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moonandstarshyuck · 29 days ago

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"Always."

lando norris x gn!bf!reader

notes: I haven’t written since 2019, so bear with me. I’ve found myself thinking about a little blurb for Lando recently (actually a lot of ideas, but this one is sticking with me more than the others at the moment).

For some context, Lando’s been receiving a huge amount of hate online (and in-person) recently. I haven’t been a fan for that long—I got into F1 this summer, in 2024—but I’ve grown to care about him. I was there for Lando losing the championship, and while I think we all knew it would come to this (Max winning felt inevitable) but I’m proud of Lando for pushing so hard this entire year.

Still, with all the hate directed at him, I’m seeing a new side of him, and I’m learning that he’s a person with feelings like anyone else. I can tell he doesn’t always have the highest opinion of himself and tends to take the blame for anything that goes wrong during his races. What struck me about this is how much I relate to it. I blame myself for things out of my control or when I mess up. What sucks with Lando is that his small, human errors are what so many people focus on to criticize him—whether it’s why he didn’t win the championship or why they think he’s a bad person (which he absolutely isn’t).

The inspiration for this came from an interview he did after the Brazilian GP. At that point, everyone knew it was almost mathematically impossible for Lando to win the championship, and he talked about struggling in the aftermath: “I literally couldn’t sleep for the first two days…So I did like, what, 36-40 hours straight. So that probably made everything worse. When you’re tired, you’re more moody, and that kind of thing…I was just sat at home alone. It probably would have been better if I had been with my friends. But they don’t live in Monaco. They also have lives and are busy doing other things. And I’m a big overthinker, so like the whole flight home, the whole week, it just played over and over in my head. What could I have done differently? Why did I do that? Why did I not do this? You start thinking of all the scenarios that you kind of blame yourself for, why it’s now not possible, that kind of thing. And yeah, because I overthink and I struggle with that kind of thing, that took a bigger toll in the days after. It wasn’t an easy time.”

And I keep on finding myself wishing someone could have been there for him in person, so that he was okay. So, I wrote this. The reader in this is dating Lando but is written as a gender-neutral character that uses They/Them pronouns. The reader also has a service dog, a Bernese Mountain Dog named Thunder, to help with their own depression and anxiety (I’m not an expert on service dogs, so this many not be 100% accurate).

They woke up that early morning to the sunlight shining on their face, streaming in from the window outside. The bliss of sleep clung to them as they lay there, cocooned in warmth, the covers snug around their body. They stretched lazily, blinking their eyes open.

Instinctively, they turned to look beside them—only to find the space next to them empty. It’s too early in the morning to be anywhere else but in bed, even for training, they thought. Lando should still be here.

The realization pulled them out of their sleepy haze. The past couple of days had been not kind to Lando. They knew that he had a tendency to keep his feelings bottled up and beat himself up over his perceived failures. They understood that feeling all too well—the guilt, the constant sense of disappointment, the nagging thought that were never good enough. They had wrestled with those feelings since they were a child.

It wasn’t something that had an easy fix. If they had found the answer, they would have shared it with Lando years ago. But they had learned that the best way to fight those thoughts wasn’t isolation. Talking to someone, writing feelings down, even simple positive affirmations—thought they might sound silly—could help push back against the negative spiral. They had told Lando this countless times.

But Lando had a problem with not wanting to “inconvenience” anyone with his emotions. No matter how many times they reassured him that they were always there for him, he struggled to let himself. They didn’t blame him—it was human to struggle against your own mind.

What made everything worse was the constant online hate. Every little mistake or sarcastic comment from Lando seemed to turn into an avalanche of criticism. They remembered the first time they’d seen him like a hateful comment about himself on Instagram—the little heart next to a cruel statement, paired with note: “Creator liked this.” It had broken their heart. How could the Lando they loved ever believe such awful things about himself?

After Brazil, it had been clear that he wasn’t okay. He’d barely spoken since coming home, choosing instead to himself. They had given him space, hoping he’d find a way to process his feelings. But by the second morning, when he still hadn’t come to bed—almost forty hours after returning home—they knew they couldn’t stand by any longer.

That morning, they rose slowly from the bed, a plan beginning to form in their mind. Lanod needed someone to step in—someone to remind him he didn’t have to face his struggles alone. They were determined to be that person for him. They couldn’t take it anymore, seeing the person they loved so badly, punishing himself over his ‘failures.’

The first step was to confirm where he was. Grabbing their phone, they opened Twitch and navigated to Max’s stream. After a few moments of watching, they heard Lando’s voice—tired, strained, but unmistakably his. He was joking with Max, his words clipped, like he was holding himself together with sheer willpower. It was enough to break their heart. They opened their messages with Max.

Thunder's Owner

Lan’s streaming with you rn?

Sent at 7:48 AM.

After a few seconds, Max replied.

Maximilian

Yeah he’s on voice-only.

Sent at 7:50 AM.

Gonna do something about him?

Sent at 7:50 AM.

Max knew. Of course he did. He probably heard the exhaustion in Lando’s voice, the edge self-loathing that came with overthinking. They typed back quickly:

Thunder's Owner

Yeah

Sent 7:52 AM.

Going to unplug his setup and drag him out of there.

Sent 7:52 AM.

Maximilian

Lol.

Sent 7:52 AM.

I’ll keep an eye out for when he disappears.

Sent 7:53 AM.

Thunder's Owner

Thx

Sent 7:54 AM.

They quietly made their way to Lando’s gaming room and eased the door open. Lando sat at his desk, controller in hand, headset clamped over messy curls. He looked worn down, his shoulders slumped as he focused on the screen. His voice through, muted put playful, as he bantered with Max.

For a moment, they just watched him. Even now, he was handsome, but the tiredness in his expression made their chest ache. He deserved rest. He deserved to feel okay. And he wasn’t going to get that by sitting here punishing himself.

As soon as Lando died in-game and leaned back in his chair, they seized the opportunity. They crossed the room, catching his attention when they came into view.

“Why’re you—” Lando began, frowning, but they didn’t let him finish. Reaching down, they unplugged everything from the wall.

“What the hell—” he exclaimed, spinning around in his chair.

“No,” they said firmly, cutting him off. “I’m not you hurt yourself anymore. Get up.”

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. “You can’t just do that!” he protested, but they were already tugging gently at him arm, urging him out of his chair.

“Angel, what are you—”

“No,” they repeated, their voice steady. “Get up,”

Lando hesitated for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and standing. They took his hand, leading him out of the gaming room and down the hall to the living room. He didn’t resist, but he followed like a man in a daze. Once they reached the couch, they turned to him. “Sit,” they said, pointing at the cushions. Lando raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to argue, but they shook their head. “Stay.”

They turned to Thunder, who had been waiting for them in the hallway, and told him, “Thunder, guard,” while pointing at Lando.

The dog immediately moved into position, standing alert in front of the couch. Lando’s eyes widened slightly as Thunder fixed him with an unblinking stare. He shifted as if to get up, but Thunder’s stance didn’t waver.

“Jeez, I wasn’t going to get up,” he mumbled to Thunder, but Thunder just sat there and watched him until he fully relaxed back into the couch.

The thought ran through Lando’s head, how he had honestly forgotten how menacing his own dog could look. He knew Thunder was trained, saw reminders of it daily with how he interacted with his partner, but he was still shocked at how trained Thunder really was at that moment.

Thunder was still staring at him when he pulled out his phone from his pocket, opening up his texts with Max.

I was just dragged out of my gaming room and told to sit on the couch and like a dog.

Sent at 8:05 AM.

Not against it, but how tf did they get so determined?

Sent at 8:05 AM.

Thunder’s watching me right now.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

I forgot how menacing he could be.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

*Picture attached.*

Lol.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

Max (The 1st One)

He’s like ‘try me, I dare you’

Sent at 8:06 AM.

Yeah, I don’t particularly want to try him

Sent at 8:07 AM.

Max (The 1st One)

Lol.

Sent at 8:07 AM.

They told me before they did it

Sent at 8:07 AM.

I just let them. Lol.

Sent at 8:07 AM.

Helpful. What if they were trying to kill me?

Sent at 8:08 AM.

They wouldn’t have had to if you kept doing what you were doing.

Sent at 8:09 AM.

Lando’s let out a quiet sigh, Max’s words sinking in. He glanced at Thunder, who hadn’t moved, and felt a pang of guilt. He’d pushed himself too far again, and this time it had clearly worried his partner.

A few minutes later, his partner walked back into their living room. He thought they looked beautiful, wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of boxers. They were entirely focused on the bowl they were carrying, and only looked up when they got close enough to hand it to him. He gently took the bowl, looked into it and saw it was one of his prep meals. While not his favorite breakfast, he knew he just needed to eat first, so he started taking bites.

He glanced up every so often, and each time he did, his partner was just sitting there and watching him eat. Lando almost chuckled at his own thought that they looked just like Thunder when watching him, and he smiled into his bowl at the thought. His partner didn’t see his smile, but he continued to eat until he had finished the bowl.

When he was done eating, he set the bowl down, and his partner again pulled him up by the crook of his arm. He just let them do so, having a thought of what was going to happen next.

His partner led them both down the hallway to their bedroom, and opened the door, leading him to sit on their bed, then they turned around and went to close their blinds and draw their black-out curtains to cover up the sunlight from the window. They had turned on their bedside lamp earlier, and the soft orange glow of the lamp permeated the room. They walked past him again, going to close the door after letting Thunder in, then they walked back to their side of the bed, and pulled him to lie down against them.

As he settled against their chest, he felt a bit odd, it being a bit of a difference to feel how much he was loved by them. How much they cared for him. And he finally spoke again, “Thank you.”

“Always, Lan. Always.” They replied, pressing a kiss to his hair.

And for the first time in days, he let himself sleep.

author's note: got inspired to actually write something for once...ty @koalapastries for the inspiration (unknowing inspiration but ty) (also sorry for using your layout outline

comments & reblogs appreciated

and i made the dividers :)

#formula 1 x gn reader #formula 1 x male reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x gn!reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando x you #f1 x you

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tsuutarr · 3 months ago

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So I may or may not be a little (aka a lot) charmed by all of your characters because, my dear, they are absolutely AMAZING and super charismatic!

and then I found myself wondering how they would react if their darlings got a little depressed about how miserable their social life has become... I mean, how do you manage to keep your mental health up with a total of ONE PERSON in your life?!

I was thinking about this because I'm Brazilian, and we are social creatures ya'know, we NEED other people to keep living and believe me, the pandemic situation DID NOT HELP IN THAT ASPECT OF US. Besides, we are touchy people, we greet each other with kisses on the cheek, long and deep hugs whenever we feel like it and I don't really think the oc's would appreciate our affection being distributed like this 😞 unless is with them, which is totally possible because if we are touchy with strangers, with the close ones we are SUPER lovey dovey.

If you could ease my curiosity about this aspect, I would be very, very happy 👉👈 and I don't mean it's just this specific scenario, just being depressed in general, begging for any kind of normal human interaction hahaha.

Anyway, sorry for this LONG text, this has been on my mind since I started reading your works (and they are AMAZING, really, I'm in love with your writing style!). As I said before, I'm Brazilian and English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes 🤗.

Wowow thank you so much for your kind words!! I am so happy you like my yandere OCs + my writing style!! Also, this is a very fun request/scenario, tysm for requesting it :3c Your English is great, please don't apologize!

Here's the answer to your request down below!!

So, Jiu's case is really interesting because he has the intellect, power, AND money to ensure that he's the closest person to you even if he DOESN'T lock you up. He's basically puppeteering your life from the background while giving you a sense of free will (e.g., you got into your specific college because of HIM, you got your specific job because of HIM, and so on). Getting him to isolate you from society would only really happen if you rejected him/began to distance yourself from him.

If you got too lonely because you could only interact with him, Jiu would cosplay and roleplay any person/character you wanted to in order to give some illusion of diverse human interaction. If you became depressed, he'd get you a therapist and anything else you might need, but... make no mistake, that therapist (while licensed properly) is NOT on your side.

On occasion, Jiu would allow you to interact with his paid workers while he's watching. Like, he'll hire a "friend" for you (who only visits at 11 AM on Fridays) and let you talk to the nanny and stuff, but that'd be it. Now, he'll be controlling your life from the frontlines rather than the backdrop and there's really nothing you can do about it, oops.

For Finley... he's actually a very clueless yandere + extremely pathetic. His emotions are very volatile so he's easy to upset/please. When he isolates you from society, it's because he thinks it's for the greater good. People are so corrupt, can't you see? He's only doing it to protect you. If you got depressed due to only being able to interact with him, he'd just cling even harder to you. After all, you're lonely because he hasn't been spending enough time with you, right (wrong)? For him, he'd understand that you seem sad, but he wouldn't understand why. He's just protecting you! Though, he may get you some pets -- he's VERY partial to animals and likes them quite a bit more than he likes humans.

Oh man, so Tynan has mind magic, so his solution is pretty messed up. He'll either hypnotize you to be okay with your situation OR give you dreams where you interact with people. His dream magic is scary because it's genuinely really hard to tell dreams from reality, so before long, you'll be tricked into thinking you spent time with the people you love when really, you were sleeping on Tynan's lap the whole time.

As for the abandoned water god... he does care about you, but not enough to let you interact with other people, even if you're feeling depressed. After you basically helped awaken him after he was forgotten for centuries, he's super obsessed with you. He doesn't need anyone else as long as he has you, so he thinks that you don't need anyone else since you have him. He'll take you to go see a bunch of sea animals, though! But those sea animals are the only other living beings you'll see. Not to mention that he's practically cursed with immortality, sooo... yeah, you're not escaping him.

Finally, for the farmer... he lives pretty isolated on his big farm anyway, so if you're his neighbor, you're already kind of isolated from everyone else. The farmer isolates you by making you dependent on him so you'll stay by his side willingly rather than locking you up. For the most part, he'll actually let some people (who are not romantically interested in you) visit you -- in fact, he actually doesn't mind it if your family visits because they all adore him (and it's so so so cute to see them tease you about how you must be dating him). But woo boy, you are very very very rarely going to be able to leave the farm. Issues crop up one way or another: blocked road, punctured tire, empty gas tank, etc... so, really, you can't leave. Unless, well, he escorts you. But it might just be better to stay on the farm since it's much more convenient, you know?

#yandere oc #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tsuuper ocs #tw yandere #jiu oh Tsuu OC #Finley Tsuu OC #Tynan Tsuu OC #monster boyfriend #yandere monster #yandere angel #yandere incubus #yandere imagines #these guys are all crazy yippee #male yandere oc #male yandere oc x reader #Mason Cane Tsuu OC #Mulsu Tsuu OC

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yelspyder · 2 years ago

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gnt do ceu, fico tao feliz de encontrar outro br 😍😍

poderia pedir miguel x reader, em q a lyla percebe q ele gosta do reader e ela tenta dar um jeitinho p ajudar o miguel

enfim oq só as melhores i.a podem fazer😉

˚‧⁺.-"All you need is to be struck by one of Cupid's arrows"

↳ summary: Miguel lives in denial about his little crush, so Lyla is forced to help.

↳ characters: Miguel O'Hara

↳ Gn! Spidey Reader

↳ notes: another brazilian? I didn't think I'd find another one, but it's a pleasant surprise. we must stick together 💪Honestly, I don't have much confidence in my writing, but I hope you like it and thanks for asking.

Miguel was in love and it was obvious. At least for Lyla. He occasionally glared at you, looked like an abandoned puppy when you left, and was absolutely more than willing to do anything you asked.

What irritated Lyla the most was that he never had the nerve to ask you out. Come up to you and ask for a mission report? That was easy for Miguel. Send you on a complicated mission? Pft, he did that almost all the time. But simply asking you out? He had no idea how to do this, not that he planned to do that.

She couldn't take Miguel anymore with the face of a dog that fell off a moving truck when you're not around. It wasn't hard to ask you out. If Miguel didn't do it, she would do it for him herself. Deciding to change that, Lyla started checking Miguel's schedule and your own. Lyla smiled when she found a vague moment in common in the two schedules. Now, it was simple. All Lyla had to do was make a date and everything would be fine.

Miguel was confused when he got a notification from his schedule saying he had an event in two hours. He was pretty sure he didn't have any other meetings that day.

As soon as he checked his calendar and saw that he had an appointment with you, he panicked and called Lyla, demanding an answer.

"Lyla, what does that mean? You take care of my schedule and I never set up this meeting." His heart was beating fast now. A date with you? This could only be a joke.

Lyla materialized beside Miguel and glared at him with a mischievous smile before speaking. "That's exactly what you saw, boss. You have this meeting in two hours. You better start getting ready and maybe even buy some gifts. People like presents, you know?"

"But I never scheduled this meeting!" Miguel looked at Lyla with a mixture of anger, despair, and confusion. "Exactly why I, your amazing assistant, did this for you. If it were up to you, you would be stranded for the rest of your life."

"I never gave you permission to do this-" "But now it's done. At this point, the calendar notification has arrived and has probably already been read. There's no way to stop it anymore. And since I'm a very generous assistant, I'll help you get dressed for your first date with your crush."

At this point, he was mortified not knowing how to respond. He would never have expected to go on a date like this. Miguel didn't answer anything and just stood there, not knowing what to do.

"Don't worry boss, you'll thank me later. Oh, and the appointment I made is in earth 57, at that restaurant you like to go to. I made a reservation in your name."

After taking a moment to compose himself, Miguel still wanted to argue with Lyla, but he already knew he couldn't cancel the meeting anymore. He sighed before speaking. "Just....guide me"

Lyla laughed excitedly and began to ramble on about which outfit he should wear.

Hours later, Miguel could be seen wearing a casual outfit and with a bouquet of flowers sitting at the table while waiting for you. As soon as you arrived and greeted him, he quickly got up from the chair he was sitting in and greeted you back, offering you the bouquet of flowers. You can barely thank him before he pulls out a chair for you to sit down.

He was slightly flushed in the face the entire dinner while you carried on a casual conversation. At first, Miguel only gave a few short and brief answers because he was embarrassed. However, after some time of conversation, he opened up more and it really started to have a date atmosphere.

Right after the two finished eating, Miguel insisted on paying the bill. He ended up accompanying you for a short night walk in Central Park and, before you opened a portal and returned to your house, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek thanking you for the pleasant encounter.

Miguel was paralyzed for a while after you left, but he traced his cheek with his hand as a small, dreamy smile formed on his lips.

Maybe what Lyla had done wasn't all bad.

Maybe...

#across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv x you #atsv miguel #atsv x y/n #atsv #atsv pavitr #gwen stacy #miles morales #hobbie brown

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asmolfolk · 2 years ago

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Hi! Sooo, theres a tiktok video that is "Ivan, how did you bag that baddie?" and this come to my mind: Tesla, Buddha, Sasaki, Jack and Ares (separate) hcs with a s/o like that? They're like: Idk how, but she picks me up like I'm nothing. Let's just say I can imagine it, lol - Sorry for my English and kisses from Brazil <3

Oh my! A fellow brazilian! I'm also brazilian, so, kisses from the southeast part of Brazil <3 Hope you liked this one, I really loved to make this one, it was very fun!

🥀♥︎.•° Fandom: Shuumatsu no Valkyrie. Characters: Nikola Tesla, Sasaki Kojiro, Jack the Ripper, Buddha and Ares (Separate) Ask: Inspired by the video 'Ivan, how did you bag that baddie?' 🦋♥︎.•°

Nikola Tesla

"Tesla, how did you bag that baddie?" The one who asked him was his friend, Robert... And that got him... Thoughtful. Tesla looked to the side, looking directly at your direction...

He was thinking about the differences between the two of you... And the similarities too. How you react to things, how you smile, how you show affection or interess in something... He is thinking all of those things at the same time. It would be a reason to "Why he stayed", after all, he never showed any interest in love or relationships that were romantical... But seeing that you were just like a Math question... [A lot of outcomes - Needs hard work and understanding to seek the problem...] That was enough to make his mind so... Full of love and interest. Of course, he couldn't not remember how did 'he bag this baddie'... Spoiler, he didn't. He still remember the day you just looked at him and straight up said "Oh, I don't have this color yet" and just picked him up like a cat and walked with him in your arms. He would tell anyone who saw that the exact thing "I accept it for cience!" But the truth was that he just didn't care to be holded... He liked that and the fact that he could still write his notes was a plus one. Since that, both of you started to talk and later on, date... It is still a surprise to most of Tesla's friends... He can still remember the first dates... And now, you are his... Girlfriend, aren't?... He can't be happier. You respect his space and actually, you were the one to start a lot of intimacy stuff with him... You seemed to always knew when he wanted something or when he acknowledges that you want something from him, but was too tired or busy and didn't want to leave you feeling unwanted by his lack of effort... So you - seeming to read his mind - do exactly what he wanted and started to give him some words of affirmation and to be sure that he knows that it's okay to not fit into some category... Or to not want to do something like sex, PDA or others.

It seemed like a he was off for some seconds IRL while in his mind, he just saw yours love story together... When he noticed that, he knew... He knew his answer. He looked to Robert and started his monologue. "Oh, you are surely mistaken, my dear friend. I'm aware of what could give the impression for you to think like that... But!" He stands there, smilling as if he is explaining math to someone "She, indeed, picked me up and straightly putted me into a consensual relationship that I do really, extremely, like." He puts a hand over his heart, as to give emphasys to his next words "This woman has a exceptional mind and strenght... Aren't I a lucky guy? Her mind is as brilliant as mine... Of course, in Differents/Same matters... Do you understand, Robert?" Robert is lost in words, he doesn't know what to say or what to do... After all, he just saw all of his - 'Don't want to date' - friend being so deeply in love with someone... He could only chuckle as his wife carries a surprise and shocked expression. "Oh my! I'm so happy that you found someone that matches you perfectly, Tesla! And her body is so pretty too... She would look awesome in a wedding dress, don't you think so?" "Hm... Wedding? I think it's a strange concept... But if she wants one..." Tesla, even having his disagreements over weddings... He couldn't say no to you. After all... You are his everything.

Sasaki

"Kojiro Sasaki, how did a loser like you bag that baddie over there?" It was the question of his opponent... He was looking directly at your face, seeing how it changed... After all, you were in fiery! How dare them say call Sasaki a loser... And before you could start approaching to 'ora ora' this person face, Sasaki holded your hand to stop you and smiled brightly. "Well... I may be a loser in battle... But she picked me from the ground and made me her boyfriend, resuming the whole story" He told his opponent as he chuckles as he feels you pinching his cheecks a bit "Ow-Ow! Sorry, sweetheart..." He laughing a bit. "It was nothing like that. I saw him on the ground and thought he was deeply hurt, so I carry him home so I could take care of him." You said, explaining it better than Sasaki resume... Or trying to. "...Okay...? Look, I don't really care..." Sasaki's opponent tried to say that but he wasn't heard, now, Sasaki and you were discussing about this first meeting and he seemed overly in joy after hearing your version of the facts. "So... How were you capeable to hold me?" He finally asked "I mean, I'm pretty heavy-" "I carry boxes that weight more than you, Sasaki."

Jack the Ripper

"How a serial killer like you got to bag that baddie?!" That was the question of Hlökk, who was actually curious to know more about this whole relationship between the two of you... After all, nobody seemed to know about Jack's partner. "Oh my... Well, it's interesting that you asked me this... Well, may I just tell you..." He said with his british accent and sweet tone appearing, he was at your side, holding your hand while looking directly at Hlökk. "She was the one and only who got me, who actually had me on her arms... When she was carrying me around." As he said it, his other hand started patting your head "Isn't it the most romantical and sweet thing someone could ever do to their partner? Carrying them around like they weight nothing" His explanation was not meant to make you feel that proud of yourself... Or to blush like you did. But in a way or other, you could only feel how much you matter and is loved by him... He is trully a gentleman. "EWWW, YOU CLINGY OLD MAN!" Hlokk seemed to think in a different way.

Buddha

"Buddha, my deaaaar friend. How did you manage to bag this baddie?!" Said Zeus... The sluttiest god "Oh my me! You should help me get a baddie like her, I swear to you... I give you candies... Hehe" Zeus - again - couldn't hide his horny. "No." A short and straight answer coming from Buddha, who looked unimpressed by Zeus atticts "I'm not helping you cheat on your wife." as he explained that, Zeus only rolled his eyes - remembering that he is married. "Aw,come on, Buddha, my great friend... It's not like I would steal your... Partner~ I just want to know what did you do...!" "...You have some serious problems, Zeus." With that said, Buddha just moved along his way... But Zeus question was enough to make him think about... That. How did this all happened?

You just looked straight at him and picked him up, saying "This is mine." and just straight up runned away from the gods. That was enough to make him be not only proud but happy - that reunion was a really shitty one.

"Hah... It seems like the puberty made her really strong." Remembering that day, Buddha couldn't hide his smile as he made his way towards you... He WILL use you as his pillow, after all, you can pick him up.

Ares

"Not that I don't respect you, Ares... But how did you... And her got together?" Asked Aphrodite with a rather... Amused expression, she seemed to be making fun of him. "How did you just do that? How did you manage that...? Did you finally follow your daddy ways?~ Because I don't see how you couldn't do that properly... You get no bitches at all~" "She isn't a bitch or anything like what dad do with Hera! She is different, I love her... I want her, she is the only one I truly love." He said, with a confused expression. "Oh love? Now you feel that... How patheti-" She is interrupted when you just walked straight to her, looking to her eyes with a hateful rage. "What did you just say to MY partner? Do you have a fucking problem with him?" As you started to swear at Aphrodite... Ares looked at you with a little smile on the face... Finally... He finally has someone who sides with him and stands up for him...

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laurents-laces · 1 year ago

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It took me 84 years, but here's the notes for Pacat's Instagram live on January 22, 2022! You can find previous summaries here. This time I added a section for things that involve both capri and dark rise because there was a lot of that.

“It’s funny, I tend to write, as I think back on Dark Rise and then before that, Captive Prince, I tend to write these book ones that kind of don't necessarily reveal themselves until the end or cohere until the end or maybe are written for the re-read rather than necessarily for the first read… I kind of have this philosophy that difficult pleasures are the most enjoyable because you have to work to achieve them, and so you know, I like the idea that you get rewarded at the end of Dark Rise for reaching the end.”

Important Updates

There has been some progress on the capri News™, though it was epically delayed by the pandemic. It’s not a fourth book, hardcovers, Laurent’s POV, or a TV series

There were updates about Dark Rise and Fence too but none of it is news anymore because this happened so long ago. The capri fandom is just unlucky like that

Pacat has a new project! It’s very different and is more adult in tone than his previous works. It’s kind of monster-horror-gore, he’s been wanting to do something with a shounen horror vibe like Berserk or Attack on Titan. It’s coming in the distant future, not soon

Captive Prince

Pacat hasn't heard of the capri fandom term Smaurent (small Laurent) but thinks that the idea of him does exist in the books as he was a very different person as a young child. Pacat likes writing characters who explore the idea that one’s past leaves fingerprints on one’s present self and Laurent is the most extreme version of this that she’s written

A fan said that they think of “Damianos V” as being a roman numeral, so that Damen would be the fifth King Damianos. Pacat really liked the idea

Pacat cried for a really long time while writing Nicaise’s death scene. Got a few strange looks as he sat in the Melbourne State Library with tears streaming down his face for a few hours. Nicaise’s death was planned from the beginning, he was always a bittersweet character to write

Laurent is such a private person. Writing more from his POV would risk exploding the mystery of his character and might kill some of the tension in capri

The capri News is like a missive from Rohan- it's on its way and it'll arrive at some point, just when you need it most

A fourth capri book isn’t completely out of the question but there isn’t one planned for now

The Brazilian capri covers are their own thing but they don’t represent the books well. They have a very dark-ages-hard-masc-medieval aesthetic

How tall is Damen? Laurent thinks that he’s a foot taller and that sometimes it feels like more

Orlant: Rough exterior, heart of gold, didn't deserve what happened to him

Pacat pronounces Vere like Veer (veer off course) but that is not the correct pronunciation that Laurent and the Veretians use so feel free to pronounce it how you want

Pacat wasn’t really involved in the art for the Japanese edition but has been a fan of Chinatsu Kurahana for a long time. Usually the author doesn’t get much input for foreign editions. The Japanese publisher was very welcoming and let Pacat have some input, but he was such a fan of the artist that he let her do whatever her vision was. He gave a bit of a description for clothing but didn’t tweak any character concepts once they were drawn because he likes having different versions of the characters in different media. We shouldn’t think of it as an official version of the characters or as Laurent’s canon hair length

Dark Rise

The submission date for the Dark Heir manuscript was June 2022. At the time of this live, Pacat was just past writing the midpoint of the first draft, heading towards the climax. The climax has been planned for a long time

We absolutely get James's POV in Dark Heir. Pacat had just finished writing one of his chapters when this live happened

How would Anharion describe Sarcean in one word? The answer would change depending on whether Anharion was wearing the collar. If he was wearing it he would say whatever Sarcean wanted him to say

James is not named after the gay king james (James I of England)

We will find out about James’s mother at some point, either in book 2 or later

Pacat’s current favourite Dark Rise character to write is a new character from book two

It was important that the stewards were racially diverse. When Pacat was pitching Dark Rise he had little pictures of the characters to show what the aesthetic of the book is, it was art that he found online. Things might have changed since then but this was three or four years ago and it was really hard to find fantasy imagery of non-white characters. If you wanted to find mages or warriors in suits of armor, all the artwork had white characters. So he wanted to include different types of people in the traditional western fantasy aesthetic

Favourite part of Dark Rise #1 is the ending because it was all of the pieces falling into place

Cyprian’s surname is not St. Clair but saying more than that would be a spoiler

Stewards have family in the outside world

Pacat would love to write short stories for Dark Rise like the ones for capri but she’s a slow writer so it would be some time in the future

Dark Rise/Capri

Justice’s appearance wasn’t specifically influenced by danmei, he has long hair because all the Stewards have long hair. The Stewards have long hair because everyone in the Old World had long hair and the Stewards carry on the sacred traditions of the past. This was inspired by the delightful long-haired-Laurent contingent in the capri fandom because they were so underserved by Captive Prince. No one in capri other than Ancel has really long, butt-length hair so Pacat wanted to change that in a new series

Where do you get inspiration for jewelry like Nicaise’s earring or James’s collar? Pacat has been thinking lately about the importance of creating a strong visual aesthetic for a character. The earring was created as a plot device. It’s long because it had to be very gaudy and noticeable because Laurent would use it as a disguise later, and it has blue sapphires because blue is Laurent’s colour. It's one single earring instead of a pair because it felt more poignant as a memento. The earring was more about purpose than aesthetics, but Pacat paid more attention to aesthetics in Dark Rise. When working on Fence, Johanna is so good at creating characters with an iconic visual look, and Pacat was thinking about that when he created James. He started with the idea of red because it's the colour of blood. The collar started off as a necklace that was a drop of blood, but it was changed to be more interesting and to have more of an impact. Pacat often thinks about the scene from the Hunger Games when Katniss is about to prove herself to the sponsors and they're not paying attention to her so she shoots the apple in the boar's mouth. A lesser author would’ve had her nail the bullseye but Suzanne Collins souped it up one more level, to come up with something slightly cooler or more imaginative. So Pacat goes through his finished drafts and thinks, is there anything I can turn up to 11? And the necklace wasn't at 11. So he thought about making it a choker, then a collar. A choker with rubies looks like a slit throat and that’s a very cool image, so that’s what it was changed to

Pacat is an only child so Tom and Auguste as older brothers aren’t based on personal experiences, but the idea of siblings has a strong importance to her. Dark Rise is dedicated to her half-sister Mandy who committed suicide when she was 15, which was the year Pacat was born

Fence Comic

The process of creating Fence: First Pacat writes the script, then it gets sent to the illustrator Johanna. It goes through a few rounds of notes where the two of them talk about the kinds of things they want to see happen, what would be cute or great in the upcoming storyline, and then Johanna does sketches. Then art edits happen, but usually the art is so incredible that it doesn’t need many edits so the only usual change is to make sure that Nicholas is left handed when he’s fencing. Then Boom (the publisher) looks over it before it goes to inks, then to the colourist Joana Lafuente, then to Jim Campbell for lettering. Jim places the speech bubbles and fits the script onto the page. Where the bubbles are placed and which words are emphasized makes a big impact on the flow of the script. Then everything gets sent back to Pacat for proofreading and editing of the lettering and then it’s done

Pacat worked very closely with Sarah Rees Brennan on the fence novels. They talked a lot about how events would play out, biographical details of the characters, made canon compliance edits, saw the books at every level and loved them. It’s impressive how Sarah can turn on a dime between two sets of opposing feelings when transitioning between emotions. Her books have a lot of wit and charm but also a lot of hard-hitting emotion

There was information about Rise and a preview but I'll skip over that part because it's already out now

Personal

When creating characters, Pacat often thinks of them in terms of dynamics they’ll have with other characters, or what they want to achieve, or what kind of archetype they resonate with, or how to build a backstory that gives them layers. Characters are interesting when they have more than one motivation, when they look one way on the surface but then different aspects of them from the past are revealed

Pacat was an Earth sciences major

Pacat chooses all the fanart friday posts himself and then his assistant Hannah sends a request to the artist

Least favourite book trope: band of misfits who save the world through a hail mary pass. Pacat likes a highly confident crew, not a small rabble of people who fluke their way into saving the world. It's not a bad trope, he doesn't know why he doesn't like it. He doesn't like Firefly because of this trope

He often reads fanfic on ao3 for more of a story than was in the original or more of a dynamic that was underserved in the original. But authors can’t read fic of their own works for copyright reasons

Owns multiple copies of the Lymond Chronicles. Book four is her favourite because the ending is so intense and devastating. Pacat often thinks of that ending when deciding what to do with her own works because most authors would’ve chickened out of writing an ending like that. She read book one for the first time in a restaurant at 9:00am and stayed there until she finished the book. She probably looked like a mess because of all the laughing and crying, and at one point one of the waiters came over to bring her a handkerchief and said “are you okay?” and Pacat said “I’m just at a really intense part right now"

Pacat does brainstorming sessions with friends to come up with ideas for books and looks at art books for inspiration

He’s reading the BL manga Twittering Birds Never Fly

Danmei dramas/web novels are really long so he isn’t familiar with most of them, but he ordered MDZS and he’s looking forward to reading it because he’s heard a lot of good things about it

Pacat doesn’t usually like love triangles, whenever he ships something in a love triangle he ends up choosing the unlucky guy. He liked Gale more than Peeta and liked Edgar more than Heathcliffe

#captive prince #dark rise #fence comic #instagram livestreams #cs pacat #my post

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babybatss-blog · 3 months ago

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Hii, I'm Brazilian, so I'm sorry for this shitty writing

can you write something with SDV Sam? I rarely see fanfics with him and I wanted a creative boost to imagine what his married life with the farmer would be like (with all the scenes, even some spicy ones 😉)

WITH YOU

(Stardew) sam x reader, 1400 words

a/n: since you left it pretty vague I tried to make this not too plot heavy, instead it’s a simple drabble on marriage with out fav bachelor! I hope this is what you were wanted lovely x

cw: proposal with a ring instead of mermaid pendant, marriage, slight out of characterness (which makes sense trust me), mentions of adult activities but nothing explicit, slight swearing, kissing and making out. Talk of babies at the end.

How he managed it, you’ll never know. For a man so often oblivious and clumsy, he pulled of the proposal of your dreams.

It was 11pm on a Friday, and after Sam randomly disappeared from the bar under the guise of a full bladder you thought something was off. Abigail and Sebastian were oddly giggly, the other patrons far too watchful of you and Sam was taking way too much time than he should be. Eventually you got up, walking to the bathroom to only find Alex. “Oh, he left.” He simply stated, a matter of fact tone that lazily disguised a strange excitement. “He went to the beach.”

You walk down to the beach, muttering to yourself about what he could possibly be doing. He didn’t have much to drink so this wasn’t some dumb wandering, and he seemed relatively happy earlier so it couldn’t be that something upset him. Come to think of it though, he did appear overly fidgety, like a man with something stressful on his mind.

As you near the beach, shimmering lights start to appear. At first they remind you of Zuzu city, but once you see the man standing in the middle of them, you know that you are actually home. Your home stands within the candles, a grin on his face as you realise: this is it. The day you have dreamed for since you were a child, wishing you could have. It doesn’t take a very long nervous speech from Sam to bring you both to tears, choking out repeated agreements between lovesick kisses and hugs. The next couple of months are spent in a bliss, no matter how stressful. It turns out that Sam was contemplating the day of your marriage just as much as you were, so the collaboration of the wedding went by as a breeze.

What colour is the aisle? Blue. What type of bouquet do you have? Wild grass and Dandelions. What is served at the reception? A mix of pizza pockets and joja cola (despite how unprofessional it may be, this had to be done.)

And the honeymoon phase never ended. It may be because you never actually got to go on a honeymoon, but the two of you spent everyday in a comfortable paradise, going about your daily tasks and enjoying each other’s comfortable company. “Do you think you could teach me how to plant crops?” He asks out of the blue, when the two of you were cuddled up on the couch watching another horrible sitcom. Surprisingly, Sam has managed to mellow out in his locked down lifestyle, swapping his late-night escapades for meaningless conversations and the sound of heavy metal to the rain on a drowsy afternoon. You snort, shocked by his change in attitude. The Sam you knew, so boisterous and uncontrollable has been replaced with a lovesick old pup, preferring spending time with his partner over risking his life.

“You? Mr hay fever? No way!”

But less than a week later it happened, and he was collapsed in the grass, sweaty and pouty. “Who knew gardening would be so hard?!” He whined, throwing his head back like a toddler who was told they couldn’t have ice cream. You laugh, walking over and holding his chin in your hand, towering over his weak frame. Your gloves get dirt on his face, but neither of you care because his jeans have been ripped up, hair frizzy, and he even managed to cut himself with a shovel, however impossible that may seem.

“I warned you. But you insisted that you would be fine, dumbass.” “You should have forced me not too.” “I know beautiful boy. I’m sorry.” You croon, crouching down to his level. But all prior anger dissolves within him at the look in your eyes, leaning forward for a deep kiss. Despite his grown-up demeanour, the two of you still love like teenagers, hungry for each other’s touch and fragile after every little look. His tongue lurches into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny like it’s the first time as you groan in pleasure at his unadulterated lust. You would never admit what happened next.

It's not even three months into the marriage now, and Sam wakes up to find you already up, as per usual. You stand at the window with a cup of tea in your hand, and he can smell the mouthwatering pancakes you made on the table. How he got lucky enough to have you, he’ll never know. “Good morning sexy” he teases, slinging his arms around your shoulder and looking out the window with you towards your hard work. That’s one thing he’s always admired from you… Your insane amount of dedication and resilience. When you inherited the farm, it was a battered mess, and after school he would go there with Abigail and Sebastian, always returning home with blackberry cuts and twigs in their hair. But now it is a utopia, alight with all types of plants, animals, and decorations. Plus, you managed to make an insane profit out of the whole ordeal, turning your struggle to pay the bills into shouting everyone at the saloon on someone’s birthday to a drink and a hot meal. “Have a good sleep?” You ask, looking up at him with an adoring smile. “Course, you know me.” Scoffing, you reply with a shaking head “like a baby.”

And honestly, it’s true. If Sam has one talent, it’s his ability to fall asleep in a split second. The moment the lights are off he’s obnoxiously snoring, often crushing you with his dead weight. If he was to be asked why, he would say it’s because of you. Just as much as you view him as your home, he also sees you as his. A safe haven, someone he knows will take care of him and always be there for him, no matter what.

“Like a baby.” He repeats, looking out the window with a strange, squinting expression. It confuses you, but you don’t push. After all, he just woke up. It’s not uncommon for him to struggle with opening his eyes or being a functioning human being in the morning, he’s like a bear out of hibernation. But eventually he lets you into his thoughts anyways. “Actually, I’ve been thinking… How would you feel about trying for baby. I know we are still pretty early into this whole marriage thing, but it just feels right. I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.”

For the first time in a long while Sam seems properly nervous, rambling his words and shuffling about. It’s nice to see that side of him, and truthfully you feel like you were at the start of the relationship too. Happy. Giddy. Excited. “Seriously?! Sam, I thought you said you wanted to take your time with that part of our life??” You place the mug down and turn to him, furrowing your brow. This unintentionally makes him panic, backing up on his words regretfully. “No, no I’m still happy for that. Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I know I wanted to take my time. Sorry.” Your heart melts, looking at your husbands worried face. Shouldn’t he know you would never judge? You peck his cheek, holding both his hands with a tender smile. “Don’t be sorry. I’d love that.” In a split second he lifts you up into his arms, kissing your face in a variety of places as you laugh.

“Baby baby baby!” he chants, jumping up and down. Soon he practically launches you onto the bed, lying on top of you and further peppering you with kisses, that uncomfortable stitch in your side forming from your pure laughter and ecstasy. It’s safe to say the next couple of weeks are spent tirelessly trying, in between sessions of rants about how great your little family is going to be.

#sam sdv x reader #sdv sam x reader #sam stardew valley #sdv sam #stardew valley sam #sam sdv #sam x reader sdv #stardew valley #stardew sam #babybatss blog

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joesalw · 1 year ago

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Old swiftie here. I'm so over Taylor shading Joe. Like, I've always defended her because she, as an artist, is allowed to express herself and sing about her life, but she's literally just been taking cheap, coordinated shots against him for months now and it's just ugly. It's one thing for her to write about her feelings, another to shit talk him to her girlfriends, and a WHOLE OTHER THING to take every opportunity to blast him in front of the whole world. It's even worse to me that he really wanted to be private and now that they're over she's making everything public as a last laugh. He hasn't said anything, he's barely shown his face since the break up. All of this could have gone away by now, if she didn't keep bringing it back up. For someone who talked a whole lot about her accomplishments being diminished by the media in favor of her love life and how unfair that is, right now she's the only one to blame for it. She's really not missing any chances when it comes to talking about Travis and even worse comparing them being public to Joe. And I'm sorry, but some of the stuff she says is just hurtful no matter what unfolded. Wasted time? Really? I just don't get how someone can write such beautiful love songs, be so in love, talk for YEARS about how being private is the right thing and what she needed for their mental health, and then go "wow what a load of wasted time you were, and I gotta tell the whole world about it." She just flipped on him so hard and that's the kind of thing I always defended her from. I'm not finding her at all different from the likes of Kanye. That's not the kind of person I'd like to be around in real life and it definitely isn't the kind of person I want to be supporting. Idk I just really can't with the way she's rewriting history. It's like she forgot she disappeared for a reason and has now fully bought into the idea that he kept her locked in her basement or something. I always thought that if you really wanted to know someone's character you should put them on top of the world and see what they do with all that power and I'm sad to say nothing Taylor has done this year has made me think she's someone I should root for. Working with a rapist, dating a racist/misogynist/zionist then defending him, turning on someone she once implied save her life, the way she handled the Rio shows in Brazil (as a brazilian fan)... It's all just rotten. A real shame bc I've been with her since 06 but better late than never I guess.

A real shame indeed, because she's someone i used to defend a lot as well. But with everything that has happened this year have put such a bad taste in my mouth and also made me realize how her haters have always been so right. I used to think she has improved herself a lot both personally and professionally but to throw away all those character development as a wastage of time just because a relationship didn’t work out is so childish and embarrassing, like how can her fans not see through this?

#anti taylor swift #swifties dni

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doctordiscocalling · 26 days ago

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New Helluva Boss episode thoughts from a Certified Stolitz Hater!!!

SPOILERS BELOW !!!!

Yeah it was pretty good.

Ill probably watch some review and realize i have more problems with this episode than i noticed or realized, but for now i think it was just. Good. Not mid, but not excellent either.

Vassago (thats his name, right?? Idk how to spell it, oh well) is probably now OFFICIALLY my fav minor character. His design is bright and pleasant to look at, his VC was killing it, and i believe hes meant to be Brazilian? Which.. dude. I LOVE the representation of languages and implied races of characters like Valentino in the show, and it never feels forced. Props to the Helluva team for that one.

Now. Ignoring all of what Stolas has done to Blitzø already - eliminating the context of their relationship thus far… Stolas sacrificing himself is actually very sweet. He gives up his status, power, and protection to save the one he loves. Im not exactly thrilled that hes given up his daughter in favor of Blitzø AGAIN however. Give my girl a break, dude.

And how she was FULLY READY TO RUN OUT THE DOOR TO GO HELP HIM OR SEE HIM if it wasnt for Stella manipulating her - that just makes me even more mad. Stolas might SAY he cares about people like Octavia and Blitzø, but his actions just about never convey the same thing.

Now… WITH the context of Stolas’ continued mistakes, manipulation, selfishness, and pushy creepiness in his relationship with Blitzø throughout the series… fuck off, man. Actually leave me alone forever.

I felt like Stolas sacrificing himself for Blitzø is now erasing every awful thing hes done to him throughout the series. Its a trope i think ive observed before - “you treated me like shit before, and we had all kinda of hard problems that i shouldve moved on from, and become a better person without you around, but you saved my life!! Lets get married and pretend none of that ever happened because of a new toxic ‘romantic’ concept - a life debt!!!”

And dont get me wrong - life debts can be done VERY well. But you need a skilled enough writer who can easily enough cut through tropes to do it right. No offense, as the writing in this show is amazing, but the Helluva writers. Well. They cant exactly subvert expectations, especially when it comes to tropes.

However, im not going to judge and throw around Stolas for being depressed at the end of the episode. Hes lost the only life hes ever known, and cant see his daughter for Lucifer knows how long. Hes allowed to soak in the bathtub for a while.

BUT!! Seeing how gentle Blitzø was with Stolas at the end of the episode - helping him bathe off the rotten food, kissing his cheek when he falls asleep, just generally being so romantic and physically affectionate with him - it made my stomach churn. This ship can’t work UNLESS you ignore everything that’s happened before in the series, which is exactly where i think the Helluva writers are taking it, unfortunately.

Call me pessimistic, but i just really stopped liking the show as much when the OG concept was put on the back burner in favor of some genuinely toxic 2015 top and bottom stereotype ship. Like. If i showed you the first two episodes of this show, and then i told you the shit-fetish cheating owl bird and the shithead lovable scamp IMP boss very genuinely and seriously got together, you would be concerned at least.

Anyway, fuck Stolas, Blitzø should illegally adopt Octavia so her and Loona can be honorary sisters, and they blow the owl up and frolic through the daisies and get their happy ending and Millie and Moxxie get double married and everyone except most of the Goectia (idk how to spell that shit) get shot by Striker.

Have a lovely day, and thank you for reading this far :]

#helluvaverse #helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas #helluva millie #helluva loona #helluva stolitz #helluva moxxie #moxxie #blitzo #blitzø #millie #loona #stolitz #stolas #fuck stolas #happy holidays sinners

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anonymous-dentist · 7 months ago

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This PJO AU hello??? It was so good!! When Cellbit mentionned the spider I was like, of COURSE this idiot is a son of Athena... so true. Anyways I'm really interested about your reasoning for Pac's godly parent... why Mars? And why roman? I never watched the brazilians or the english so my understanding of their character is not optimal.

Also, how did they live before going to camp? Did they see many monsters ?

Thank you for writing this AU!

So Cellbit met Felps shortly after his ‘disappearance’, and they ended up sticking together (because Cellbit was a scared 8 year old demigod, and Felps was the eudaemon sent to watch over him.)

Years later, Cellbit ended up in juvie all the way across the country thanks to his cursed-ass knife, which is where he met Pac and Mike. Things Happened, and they all escaped and met up with Felps outside, and they decided to stick together despite a very messy breakup between Pac and Cellbit. (Technically, Guaxi escaped with them, but he went off on his own because, really, fuck these guys)

More time passed, and the four of them were just kinda homeless and traveling the country. None of them wanted to go find their parents, and Cellbit refused to go back to camp, and Pac didn’t want to go back to his camp (he already escaped from there once, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to do it again.)

And then, maybe a few months before canon, they meet little Richarlyson, and since then they’ve been attacked by a TON of monsters. It’s for Richarlyson’s safety that Cellbit decided to bite the bullet and take him to camp, and so that’s why they went there

Pac, meanwhile, is from the other camp. His godly parent is the god of war, but that just sounds a little too hardcore, you know? Like, sure, Pac is a really good fighter, but that isn’t all he wants to do! He likes helping Mike with his little mechanical… things, and he really likes fixing up the cars the Gang steals. Pac prefers to be saved, anyway. Fighting can be such hard work, you know?

So he left Camp Jupiter after realizing that half of what it does is War Simulator, and then he ended up in Juvie for stealing a motorcycle with Mike, and now he’s planning on staying in the Hephaestus cabin with Mike and just chilling :)

(One day he’ll accept himself and his dad in the name of protecting his family, but not yet.)

#asks!#anon!#qsmppjo au

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oddlyzephyrous · 1 year ago

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last post i make about this for foreseeable future, it's a lot for my mental health to engage with this kinda stuff long-term but

I think as sad and disappointed as i am about the ccForever situation. I think I'm the most sad for the people who were making content with him, in qsmp and other projects.

Like i feel so bad for quackity and the admin team, that they have to deal with this. I feel bad for all the other streamers, like the other Brazilians and BBH and everyone who had IRL friendships with him as well as having to contend with all the storylines that they had going that involved him and his character that they have to reconsider. Like that must be so awkward and hard and sad for them to work through.

IDK man. however it all turns out it'll be hard. It's hard for us as fans and viewers and I can only imagine how much worse it is for people who were a lot closer to him and for people writing stories and content heavily involving his character. Like there is so much of qsmp that he made, so many storylines he was involved in. Like the Ninho, the presidency, Copacabana, the Happy Pills, the Nether, @v@... all such amazing parts of qsmp. Hoping everyone more closely involved in this situation is ok. It must hurt, seeing this kinda stuff from someone you trusted, and contending with that knowledge in reference to the story you're creating. Idk.

#qsmp #qsmp discourse #discourse #qsmp forever #forever player #forever situation #let me know if this needs any more tags

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estranha-de-all-star · 1 year ago

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I'm suspicious to say this because of course I will talk a lot of the brazilians CCs

But the RP that Pac and Forever are doing is AMAZING

Forever is crazy and happy all the time, but he gets SO mad with things when the pills stops making effect on him (and dude, all the cutscenes his doing in the end of the lives? Like yesterday, when he was "dreaming" and showed that he run after Cucurucho with a chainsaw, and Cucurucho runned away scared of him? And Q!Forever exploding his base and making lots and lots of TNT to explode the Island, which btw he definitely did it successfully and they did a rollback and forced Q!Forever on drugs to stopping him to do it again, because the Federation saw that he can and will do it again to get his son and the other eggs back!) And if you don't se his lives, he keeps in character ALL THE TIME, he rarely breaks character, and when he does is just to talk something with chat or explains something, but it's truly amazing what his doing! He's acting crazy and happy, but he has a few moments of lucidity and try to use it to warn the other on the island before taking the pills again!

His fight with Q!Cellbit, and both started screaming with each other and Q!Cellbit desperately tries to put some sense on Q!Forever head and show him that that thing on the bed is not their son! (Honestly that fight reminded me so much of Joui and Arthur fighting that I just started crying) And when Q!Cellbit just left Q!Forever there and he started singing to Rochas I cried much more.

And Pac? Jesus Christ!

His RP yesterday was so good! Because he is crazy and happy taking the pills, BUT, he is not like Q!Forever, when he doesn't take the pills he gets sad and Q!Forever gets mad!

And we as the voices in his head we tried to make him remember what he has to do! Take the pills and try to find and antidote!

But his moments os lucidity are very subtle, when he was lucid he started talking very fast and analyzing what was the medicine the Federation did and how it affected him and Q!Forever and how he could make a antidote. He talked to Q!Fit and Q!Tubbo and said a lot of thing he wasn't supposed to, even showed Q!Fit (and latter to Q!Foolish) the bottle of the medicine, and answered things to them!

But I think the moment that was really amazing and made me really emotional was when he was doubting himself saying that he couldn't make a antidote, and he didn't want to read the book his past self write to him, but he read it. And he remembered why he was doing it, and even if he was afraid of what could happen, he taked one of the pills and leave it to Q!Cellbit on his Castle and leaves.

That was so amazing and I was crying so much! Because even doubting himself (probably because of the pills or something that the Federation said to make him believe that he couldn't find a antidote) and him leaving and saying that it was in the hands of Q!Cellbit? Because he trust his friend very much? (Btw is really good how Pac did his character still be cautious and afraid of Q!Cellbit and making him angry because of their past, he has traumas and even if he knows Q!Cellbit changed for good, he is still afraid (Q!Cellbit knows it too and respects and reassures him he doesn't want to be that person ever again, but he understands that Q!Pac is afraid of that and is always calm and never raises his voice at him, even when Q!Pac accidentally send a private message to Q!Forever instead of Q!Cellbit, he helped Q!Pac and reassures him it was fine!)

And man, Q!Pac character is amazing and many ways, but him knowing he couldn't say anything about the pills and still find ways to show others that something is wrong? Leaving one of the bottles for Q!Cellbit to try to help him to find a antidote?? And in the few moments of lucidity he talking fast and trying to explain to Q!Fit and Q!Tubbo what the pills do to him and Q!Forever?? (Do you know how hard it is to organize in your mind what you want to say in your second language and talks fast all what you're think because you don't have much time?)

Honestly Forever and Pac RPs are absolutely amazing and gave me chills and made me emotional and different ways: Forever makes me kind afraid and scared of how he is and how he is acting to his friends, pointing guns and threatening them because of the clock sound his hearing in his head.

Pac, in another way, makes me worried and sad because his doubting himself so much, even saying to Q!Tubbo and Q!Fit he the weakest of the Favela Five, when this is not true (My man robbed a police guard IN PRISON, he is the one who gives troubles to the Federation without trying, he is the one who tricked the King ot Alcatraz (who is now one of his closest friend... Sure, the guy ate his leg, but this is in the past now!)

Honestly they are amazing, and their RP is really really good!

P.s.: I'm don't know how Q!Cellbit is going to react to the news today, but I just know to be prepared to his RP because knowing this son of a bitch I will cry really hard to the point I will be sobbing (years of Ordem Paranormal prepared me to be aware of this)

Anyways! Love my brazilians CC! I'm very proud of them and very happy that people of other countries are as amazed as me with their RP!!!

#qsmp #qsmp brasil #q!cellbit #q!forever #q!pactw #favela five

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mariamariquinha · 1 year ago

Text

tear you apart - Dave York x f!reader (one shot)

Summary: You were his assistant. You had a crush on him. Classic.

Word count: 8.8k

Warnings: Bad words, p in v, unprotected sex, slight mention of abusive coworker (not Dave), possessiveness (from Dave hehe) and alcohol comsuption.

Author’s Note: My mother saw me writing this and she said it was impressive that I was writing in English. That's one of the good sides of being the only one who can speak and understand English in a brazilian household - I can write 8k words of smut about a Pedro Pascal's character.

He isn't even in my list of regulars. But again, since when you guys try to understand me?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! THIS BLOG IS +18!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

--------------------------------

It wasn’t like he was your boss - in matters of hierarchy, he had more pomp, but he didn't have the power to order you to serve coffee, for example. Unlike the other agents in his ranks, however, Dave York was… likable. He limited himself to almost symbolic instructions or requests - a report, a question about the availability of a meeting room (he didn't like his).

The thing that made him tolerable was simple. Dave York knew how to ask just as much as he knew how to demand.

You mentioned him to your coworkers sometimes and you all would share nothing but a few words about the guy - that he was nice, polite, discreet. With nothing but an old LinkedIn profile, there wasn’t much to see about him. Well, in the meaning of personality.

Dave was attractive. And married.

That being said, you couldn’t see yourself as the purest of the souls for feeling such a magnetism towards him. You wouldn’t come to some excuse, to say that the looks you sent his way had this uncontrollable intensity because, hey, you would go feral over him. It wasn’t true. If you wanted, if you tried hard enough, Dave would be just someone from work. What gave you some sense of preservation was that you’d never give the first step. What took it away from you was that if he asked, if he suggested, you wouldn’t… be contrary to the idea. But you would say no.

“Did you hear?” Alessia, a fellow friend, came to your desk with fast steps and a weird eagerness.

“Hear what?” You raised your head nonchalantly, ready for whatever gossip she had on her because… Well, Alessia never hid her intense interest in whatever off-work situation was happening around the office.

She eyed your surroundings, surprisingly making sure no one was listening - it seemed so odd that you yourself looked around as well, frowning at the sudden mystery around whatever topic she would bring.

“You know Dave York, right?” Alessia whispered, body leaning over your desk.

“... Yes?”

“He’s getting divorced.”

“WHAT.”

“Shut up!” She shushed you with a scolding, enough to make you tap your mouth shut almost immediately.

“How do you-Fuck, Alessia, how do you know that?” You asked after composing your discreet tone, not even daring to pretend you weren’t interested in what sounded like a huge lie.

Dave loved his family, he acted like a girl-dad-family-guy type of man, even if in subtle ways - to not involve any business thing with personal issues. From what you saw, which wasn’t much, he would at least be in a couple therapy. Hell, Dave would fucking try. And given the number of women around the building who gave him intentional glances and flirty lines, you would know by now if he had given up to the ‘temptation’.

You felt bad for thinking of him like that, like he was a cheater, even if it was common for guys like him. There were other reasons for people to divorce, especially if you’re working on a job that takes so much of your time and-

“... I might’ve been passing by his assistant’s desk and eventually listened to her talking on the phone…”

“Alessia.” You warned.

“It wasn’t on purpose, I swear! Dave is… Well, he’s nice with us. I wouldn’t snoop through his things, he’s not Dawson or that stupid Mark Russo-”

“Mark Rudolph.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She waved you off. “The point is that she mentioned something about Dave being kinda unstable because of marital crises. Divorce. Her words, not mine.”

All of this sounded so secretive, so intimate; you know Alessia enough to be comforted by the idea of her not spreading the news. She was too curious, but not cruel to prejudice Dave or his assistant. All in all, she would just bring the subject up again in the privacy of your lunch breaks or night outs - nothing more sexy than that.

“... Oh.”

“That’s all you have? Oh?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, engage! How could you not be surprised by it?”

“I don’t look surprised?”

“You look lost.”

Because you were. During your lifetime, you had your fair share of big news or surprises - an aunt of yours assuming that she was lesbian in her late 50s, your college grades being enough to have a job in the government, finding out that losing your virginity wasn’t that big a deal. The difference was that they were all expectations, things you imagined in a way and turned out to be something else. Well, you could guess that your aunt could have inclinations. Applying for an office job in Governmental Security, in the CIA, was your first option since high school. You had at least 5 friends telling you that sex wasn’t great.

You couldn’t guess, in your spare time with the senior agents, that Dave York would be divorced.

“... We shouldn’t be speculating,” You said in a defensive tone, adjusting yourself in your seat and looking back at the computer screen.

“Don’t act so innocent, yeah? I know you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, so you think you’re always so subtle about the biggest crush you-”

“Shhhhh! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Your desperate shout came lower than her clear intention to fuzz with your absence of reaction. A hiss, you could say, with your hand slapping her wrist.

Alessia grinned like the devil itself.

“Just sayin’,” She raised her hands in defeat, straightening her stance and looking you over with a smirk. “He’s officially on now, baby.”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

And if you felt your cheeks and neck burn - if you knew that this was because she was kinda right, you blinked a few times and got back to your work.

-----------------------------

“Hold on!”

You’d heard it before you saw whoever the person was - you just held the elevator’s doors with a small ‘oof’ and dizzy feet. Just when you smelled the perfume, when you heard, again, the same voice but with a soft low tone saying a single thanks, you noticed who it was.

Fuck.

Seeing Dave standing there, both hands on his pockets with a neutral expression, not even giving you a side glance to notice your surprise. You cleared your throat, turned your heated face to the side and watched the doors closing - him staying on one side of the thing, you almost being swallowed by the wall from the other.

You unconsciously passed your hands over your dress. A new one, in a color you liked. You were so fucking nervous, as if the conversation with Alessia made you a criminal of something you shouldn’t be interested about. And, well, you weren’t, you know? It's just… Ugh.

“Seventh floor?” The sudden question made you turn to him with a frown.

“... What?”

“You’re going to the seventh floor?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, we… Our department changed to this floor.” No etiquette towards the topic of just saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’. You needed to embarrass yourself.

Dave smiled in comprehension, then nodded his head.

“Has it been recently?”

“Three months.”

“Mm.”

And you looked at him, when you dared to give him more of a real glance, you noticed that he was still watching your nervous stance with a small pleased grin on his face. You smiled back - not with the same confidence, of course, but that was something at least.

“I’ll take notes from now on.” Dave said after a long elevator ride in silence, right when you were leaving him there alone. You turned around, saw the same grin staring back at you. “That you’re on the seventh floor now.”

It seemed sweet enough, polite for a colleague; you couldn’t help but smile at the amused tone of his voice and his ease into making small talk.

“Yes.”

And even if it was regular, not odd or invasive, you stood there in the corridor, after the doors were closed and the elevator kept going up, up, up…

You stared at the thing until Alessia came by your side, asking what took you so long.

-----------------------------

For better or worse, you didn't tell Alessia about the little encounter with Dave, or the others that happened over the next few weeks. It wasn't like there was a point A and a point B - he was kind, polite and subtle in his approaches, as you would see him doing with any other colleague. You were conveniently there and the interactions were never awkward in any way.

The said magnetism was there. Your attraction as well. For that very reason, you kept everything there, in the professional line of things, where the schedule of occupations and spaces on the seventh floor were always more convenient. And until you could gather reliable information, one that didn’t come with too much excitement from Alessia because damn you loved her but she could be really delusional, you decided to keep it cool, on your quiet side of the things, without big hopes or inventful ideas. Or let your imagination flow to-

“Good afternoon?”

You gasped at the voice, startled by the sudden noise in the middle of such a quiet room, and when you turned around, pencil in hand, you saw Dave standing in the doorway with a small smile on his face.

“Hi! Erm-” You cleared your throat, blinking a few times. “Hi. Dave. Sorry for that, I was distracted. Wasn’t expecting anyone here… so… soon.”

“Yeah, a meeting of mine ended early and I thought I'd use the free time to check some emails before we start here. Do you mind?” He pointed at one of the empty chairs, not daring to move before you could nod. “Thanks.”

It was unconscious the way you rubbed your hands on the fabric of your dress before going back to the board and writing the topics Joe had asked for - it was as if your palms were suddenly wet with a taut, unexpected sweat. And to be fair, you never really liked Joe's traditional handwriting method; PowerPoints would cut your time on your feet and certainly save you the trouble of writing or erasing the same things over and over to make your handwriting minimally legible, but it would do you some good to keep yourself busy with something while being alone with York.

It also seemed like the kind of situation that was pretty depressing for your morale. With Dave there, you'd need to limit your curses and defeated mutters to each erase, which revealed itself to be a stressing quest. You would hate to give him the impression that you hated what you were doing even if you did - Dave could be nice, but he wouldn’t stop himself from giving Joe his opinions about your behavior.

And, well, you kind of needed the job.

All the silence in the room, interrupted now and then by the pen scratching the whiteboard, was only interrupted after a good few minutes, when he decided to speak.

“Do you-”

“Yes?”

Your quickness to turn with visible stress and discomfort had him frowning, then looking down at the way your fingers tightened around the pen. Maybe it just wasn't a good day or the situation itself was always this stressful, but your shoulders were tight and your posture tense. No, that wasn't it. It wasn't Dave or the writing on the board. Meetings involving Joe would always put you on edge - days of prep, practically doing all the work for charts and data, and even information you barely had access to, all to receive other types of demands that left you stuck with too much work.

Dave noticed that.

“... Do you have news from Eleanor?” Being decent enough for that, he decided to ask this instead, which made you blink a few times, as if waiting for a blow that never came. “I end up getting few updates on how she is doing. I've been pretty busy lately and I couldn't congratulate her. It's a boy, isn't it?”

Oh. Oh, yeah. Eleanor. His assistant, who became a mother recently and was out on maternity leave. That Eleanor.

“Yes. I think his name is Bryan. Or John. Or Bryan John or John Bryan… I’m not sure.”

“Seems like something she would choose,” He said with an amused smile. “And as much as I want her to take her time, I admit that I miss her around here.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone can replace an assistant.”

“You’re right. Joe is the lucky one to have you, always ready to provide and organized. If he didn't waste your time with such nonsense-”

“Nonsense?”

“I could-Yes, nonsense-I could use some help. Or just take you for me already.”

The joking tone made you scoff a giggle, hiding your mouth with your hand and averting his gaze. Dave was giggling as well, but with a huge confidence - not tearing his eyes away, measuring your reaction. When you raised your eyes again, he still had that attentive face.

“I’m sure there’s other great assistants willing to help you.”

“Well, I haven't found these ones yet. If you ever know where to find them, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“Of course,” You smiled, not being able to help but feel a little shy at the attention.

When Joe appeared shortly afterwards, along with the few who would also be present at the meeting, the topic died down, but you got the impression that Dave kept a focused look in your direction for a while longer before getting distracted with work.

-----------------------------

If you're being completely honest, you knew you were the kind of person that other people took time to feel the kind of sexual appreciation for. It took a while, without love at first sight or passionate looks - it was like unveiling a beauty that perhaps wasn't clear at first. Alessia said that you were very modest and inattentive, that people looked at you or that you didn't really notice flirting because people did; you'd rather think that you just occupied yourself with different things and, you know, that's okay. It was a normal enough life within the work you did.

You didn't have a car, despite knowing how to drive a little (with a short list of incidents in your history), so you always took the bus or train or, on difficult days, a taxi or Uber. This, of course, when there were no extraordinary conditions, such as extended working hours because Joe made you stay. That day, you were busy with a lot of documentation that had come to you late. Alessia even offered to give you a ride, but she had a date that night and you knew it would get in the way. 'That’s okay,' you said, and then saw the entire floor empty completely as the hours passed.

When you took an elevator with a defeated sigh, around eight, you thought you would be able to get the difficult day's transport; it was dangerous to walk at that time of night, of course. But then you ended up on the sidewalk of the building, no battery on your phone and not even a sight of a taxi nearby. Fine. Fine. Yeah, totally fine. That was the epitome of your career, of working with Joe, of… being a fucking ‘good employee’ just so that motherfucker could-

“Hey!”

You turned around at the sound of the voice, startled to see Dave parking his car in front of you and leaning over the passenger seat to grab your attention from the desperate swipes you made on your phone. He was smiling politely at you, waiting for a reaction you didn’t give for a few seconds.

“Hey,” You said with a small smile. “I didn’t know you were working late.”

“Yeah, had some stuff to do,” He shrugged. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“No, I’m just trying to find a ride home. My phone’s off, I can’t call an Uber and there’s no taxis around.”

Dave raised his eyebrows, looking around and nodding a little.

“You live nearby?”

“I wouldn’t say nearby, but…”

“I can give you a ride.”

The offer made you blink dumbly at him for a moment, phone in one hand and purse in the other.

“No, no, I don’t want to bother.” You waved him off with a smile.

“It's late and it's getting cold. I would hate to leave you here when I can leave you at home,” He argued, still without losing his friendly smile and soft tone. “I'll drop you off.”

You could say 'no', you could insist that a taxi would show up soon or that you could just use his phone to order an Uber, but you knew it would be in vain because Dave was insistent and might get upset if you refused to accept the ride from him. Besides, who were you kidding? It was a ride from Dave York, the guy you were really interested in. What other opportunity would you have to learn more about him, even just a little, outside of work?

“... Okay then,” You conceded with a nod, hearing his ‘attagirl’ while he let you enter his car. Once inside, you put the seatbelt on and kept your purse firmly on your lap to keep your hands busy. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay. What are co-workers if not to help in these difficult times?” And he said it so nonchalantly, using one of his hands to simply touch your knee in a friendly manner before putting it back on the steering wheel, that when you finally noticed the action, you also noticed that you left him hanging on a question about why you were there so late.

“Joe gave me some paperwork at the end of the day and the deadline was tomorrow,” You said, seeing the way he frowned.

“Does he always do this? Make you stay alone here until late?”

Well, you didn’t want to complain, it would be unprofessional. But you were so tired, so done with Joe’s shit, that you couldn’t help but say something about it.

“He’s always saying it’s work.”

Dave scoffed.

“This is ridiculous.”

You nodded, eyeing the streets silently. That was the beginning and the end of the conversation, with you just giving basic instructions of where you live. During this time, you noticed a few things inside the car; small things, like the childlike ornament on the inside rearview mirror or the pleasant scent of bergamot or the soft music from the radio station that played almost like a discreet soundtrack. He looked as organized there as he was in the office, without a crumb of food on the inside or a stain on the dashboard. Everything was impeccable.

“You know, that job to be my assistant is still open.” The sudden comment made you turn to him with surprise. Dave was already on the street where you lived and you thought he wouldn’t say anything else, but that made you frown.

“What?”

“There’s a big chance that Eleanor will not be back. I’m gonna need someone to help me.”

“But…” You considered. “I'm sure the agency has a list of more experienced people for you.”

He smiled at that, parking right in front of your building and turning his body to you, one arm hanging on the steering wheel and the other brushing his chin.

“I think you have enough experience for what I need. And believe me, I’m meticulous when it comes to choosing who I want to work with, and I’ve been watching you for some time.”

Really?

“Really?”

“Mm-hm. I always envied Joe for having someone so valuable on his team, I already told you that. And let's face it, as a senior agent, I can give you more benefits and I certainly don't intend to keep you working late into the night.”

That made you smile a little, shaking your head and eyeing the street ahead with uncertainty.

“... I need to think about it.”

“Hey,” He brushed his fingers on your jaw, making you turn your eyes at him again. Get your shit together, woman, for the love of God… “No pressure, yeah? You take your time to consider. And if you’re afraid of how Joe might react, I’ll deal with him.”

“O-Okay…”

“Tell me your decision when you feel like it,” Dave leaned in, disconnecting your seatbelt and brushing his hand on your shoulder, then opened your door. “I would be happy to work with you anyhow.”

“Okay,” You repeated yourself, nodding and getting out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Dave. And for the opportunity.”

“Anything, honey. Good night.”

He sped down the street and you stood for a long time on the sidewalk outside your building thinking about a few things: you should take your charger to work, Joe was an asshole, Dave York gave you a ride (his car smelled really good, like him), he had been paying attention to you and… God, he called you 'honey'?

Yeah, definitely get your shit together.

-----------------------------

It was like having one foot outside. In the morning, all it took was for Joe to send you an email saying that you should pick up his suits from the dry cleaners and, as soon as you arrived at work (without the suits), you went to the ninth floor and, effectively, to Dave's office.

He had the same charming smile he always had when you said you accepted the job.

-----------------------------

It was a curiously peaceful transfer, most likely due to the bureaucratic situation between Dave, a higher caliber agent, and Joe. Dave's room was much larger, with large windows and good lighting, and everything seemed much more comfortable. You felt impressed and wanted to impress.

Eleanor told you everything, but curiously she didn't know how Dave liked his coffee or his favorite restaurant for lunch. She mentioned that he never asked her that kind of thing, and when you mentioned it to Alessia, she said that maybe that was why people liked him there (apart from, as she herself mentioned, 'his nice, toned ass in stockings age').

As soon as you started, he had a two-week trip to Brussels. This gave you time to get used to his routine, with calendars and schedules, even with who he preferred to talk to or who should leave messages on your desk. All the effort (that you convinced yourself that came from a place of pure professionalism) had some return when he arrived that morning, after the trip, with a smile on his face and his casual blue suit, Dave had two cups of coffee on his hand, accompanied by a small paper bag from Starbucks.

“I unfortunately didn't have time to bring the champagne,” He teased, handing you a cup and the bag. “Latte and cinnamon roll, right?”

“How did you-”

“Alessia.”

Hah. Of course. That would explain why she sent you a million morning texts telling you she would be the one bringing you coffee.

“That's very kind of you,” You said with a smile. “But it's a shame I don't know yet which coffee you like.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dave reassured, walking in the direction of his office and observing you from head to toe. “That's not the first thing I value in an assistant like you.”

Like you. Of course you didn’t know what it meant, but you tried not to read into it. Either way, you smiled a little while sipping on your coffee and eating the cinnamon roll, touched by the considerate act.

-----------------------------

It would always be a cliché for the boss and the secretary to have such a passionate and fiery affair. At the CIA, there were very strict rules about this type of behavior, but they didn't have the same weight as not being able to tell government secrets or being one of those retired guys who went on TV documentaries to talk about how aliens existed. The break rooms were full of true stories of similar cases, just like an everyday convenience, so it was normal when, over time, people started to speculate or make jokes about your relationship with Dave.

At first, you just denied it with a smile. Little by little, everyone started to believe, because ethically speaking, Dave never showed any signs of giving you some kind of special treatment compared to anyone there. The curious thing was that, as people let the speculation cool, you noticed some kind of tension between the two of you.

After the first month, he started to have subtle touches on some part of your body: fingers that brushed your back when you two took the elevator together and he told you to go first, or touches of his fingertips as he asked about the color of your nails. Sometimes, unconsciously, he would stay close enough while showing something on your computer and then, before leaving, he would give your shoulder a brief squeeze before leaving.

Between the second and fourth, more or less, the stares began. At first you thought he was just staring into space in contemplation or reasoning, with you conveniently there in his eyesight, but then it seemed more like a deliberate action. You felt him watching and the next thing you knew, Dave was smiling like nothing had happened before going back to work.

From the fifth to the sixth, he started bringing you small gifts from trips he took. From Canada, a pair of winter socks; from Malta, a ceramic set of espresso cups; from Spain, a Manila shawl. They progressed from small considerations for your services to finally 'I remembered you when I saw this' and 'I thought it would go with your kitchen'. He gave you rides, paid for your lunch, complimented your hair or your nails or your skirt or your shoes and sometimes he just kept staring, as if paying attention to something.

Dave, that same man who you labored a regular interest in, wore the same tailored clothes, the ones that accentuated his body, revealing potentially strong thighs and a perfect physical structure for someone his age. At that point, though, being so close, you knew he bit pen caps when he was focused, ran his hands through his hair when he was tense, and always left two buttons on his shirt open after the last meeting of the day was over. His hands were an interesting counterpoint, steady and reflective of manual labor, even though he was always impeccable.

That all meant you were noticing each other.

Deep down, in fact, you just had the impression that he was naturally inclined to know everything from a person who would be so close to his routine, his professional environment and his life as a whole, and therefore, he would always know everything about you unconsciously while you would only know what he wanted you to know.

“Oh, what’s the special occasion?”

The question caught you by surprise, enough to make you gasp. Dave was entering his office nonchalantly, looking at you with an amused frown. You were just putting some paperwork on his desk when he came back from a meeting.

“... What?”

“Your dress. I’ve never seen you wear this one before,” He pointed out. “And it’s way too cool for the environment.”

Oh yeah, the dress. The dress you were almost dying for him to notice, but you didn’t get so lucky because of how busy his morning was - enough for not being able to see him until that exact moment, after lunch time. The dress you chose carefully at a shopping trip with Alessia, one she approved, one that was new. It was an earthy shade of brown, kind of satiny and fitted to your body almost like a glove. It wasn't really a dress, it was a discrete set - the tighter shirt had a few buttons and the skirt complemented it, as it was the same color, in a harmonious way. Well, those were things Alessia had told you. In a way, you agreed. You felt good in the morning when you wore it and you were feeling good (in a different way) about the fact that Dave paid attention; finally paid attention.

“I hope I'm not straying from dress protocol,” You said, trying to sound funny or collected about his comment. He smiled, walking closer.

“Wouldn’t say you did it,” Dave stood two steps away, both hands inside his pockets while, without any shame, looking at the extent of your body. “You are quite distracting, but I don’t think you can help it. Wearing this or not, you’re a pretty woman who happens to wear pretty clothes.”

You blinked at him a few times, taking notes on the way he said it so casually, without a single tone of flirting, then turned around his desk to go through his day.

“So? Any special occasion?” He pressed calmly, focusing on the papers in front of him.

“... No! No, I mean… I’ll go for a few drinks with some friends from work. Alessia, some other assistants… Happy hour.”

“Oh,” Unimpressed. “Seems like you’ll have a lotta fun tonight then.”

“So-so.”

“So-so?”

“Joe will be there too.”

With your time working together with Dave, you began to expose small aggressions and positions that Joe used to have. It wasn't anything serious, it was even 'normal', like comments that came very close to inappropriate and absurd during working hours. In the beginning, you mentioned things he did to others, things that Dave had often witnessed. When you told him about yourself, about what Joe directed at you, about the calls for drinks and rides that you always politely declined, Dave even apologized if he was being invasive. You said no. After that, he got weird when he heard about the guy.

Mentioning this to him made you watch that same reaction. He raised his eyes at you with a big scowl, papers forgotten and a stern expression on his face.

“Will he.” Dave said in an emotionless tone, as if making sure you said it right.

“Yeah, some agents will, in fact,” You nodded. “You could come by too if you want to. I know it’s not your kind of thing, but maybe, I don’t know, you could decompress a little?”

The offer was left hanging in the air for quite some time, with him staring at you without a reaction. You waited for a decline, really, because Dave wasn’t one of going out with coworkers just because. But then, all of the sudden, his face relaxed, he smiled and became a whole different person in a matter of seconds.

“‘Would love to, honey. Just don’t want to interrupt your complainings about the bosses ‘round here,” He teased, going back to the papers once again, being all playful.

“We’ll be careful to keep it away from your ears,” The answer made him giggle.

“Just tell me when and where, yeah?”

“I will.”

You left his room satisfied, even if not so hopeful that he would really appear at that get-together. Perhaps, and that could be a fair statement, obnoxious of how Dave’s face fell into that same ugly scowl with the reminder of Joe’s presence still surrounding your social life - or your life, in general.

-----------------------------

“What are you looking at?” Alessia asked, pushing a drink in your hand and following your eyesight at the door. You just averted your gaze, sipping in a way too strong cup of gin and vodka.

“Nothin’.”

“It must be something. Should we be waiting for someone else?”

Dammit, why did this woman know you so well?

“... I just…” You looked around, making sure none of your coworkers would hear you two. “I invited Dave.”

“YOU DI-”

“Shut up!” Preventing the storm of words coming out of her mouth, you shushed her off, giving another wary look around the bar. “I offered. Nothing more than that.”

“And I assume he said yes?!”

“He did.”

“Oh,” She raised her eyebrows. “Bold of you.”

“Yeah, I can see it.”

“No, seriously. That’s the most brave thing you did since that dude from IT.”

“Really?” You made a face at her.

“Just sayin’, baby, sorry. But let’s hope he comes by, give us some good talk instead of this… whatever this is with Joe and his guys.”

Over her shoulder, exactly where she pointed out, you saw Joe sharing some of those suspicious laughs with some other fellow agents, obviously saying something that your colleagues couldn’t find funny in the slightest. You sipped on your drink again, raising an eyebrow at her and shrugging.

“Let’s hope.”

-----------------------------

It was a long night, even if it was fun despite the company. You moderated your alcohol intake, laughed with your friends, knew how to dismiss Joe's mean or typically provocative comments. He behaved, somehow, at least for what anyone could expect from him, and the problem was just that his whole personality was just annoying. By the end of the encounter, later on, with people disappearing and any sign that Dave might appear had already vanished, you decided to call it a night, phone in hand, ordering an Uber for you and Alessia.

Chilly night, peaceful street - not a lot of cars available, which didn’t bother your friend, who leaned against the brick wall on the sidewalk, lighting a cigarette and staring at the sky during what seemed like a really good drunk state. You kept an eye on her from time to time, splitting your attention between her and the phone screen, sometimes seeing those drunk eyes looking at people passing by or just wandering around.

You turned your back for a second, anxious at the possibility of finally getting a car and-

“Hey!”

It wasn’t aggressive, nor harsh, but you jumped at the possibility of drunk-Alessia interacting with anyone by any means. When you snapped your head in her direction again, ready to start a fight or anything that she could throw your way, you saw that it wasn’t the case - that she was smiling at the sight of the person approaching.

“You’re, like, really late” She said to Dave, narrowing her eyes to see the time on her wrist watch and then waving it in front of his face.

“Got stuck with work, sorry,” He smiled apologetically, turning to you. “Last minute problem.”

“Is everything okay?” You asked, mind already working on what you could’ve forgotten to do before leaving to the bar.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” Dave waved you off. “I take it the night went well?”

“Except for that stupid Joe talking a lot of shit, it was good,” Alessia intervened, voice full of venom while blowing the smoke of her cigarette in the night air. “That bitch can’t shut the fuck up…”

“I think we’ve got the point, Alessia, thank you,” You scolded her, taking a few steps closer to make sure she was listening to you properly. She tsked, face turning to the side while she started to get distracted again.

That just made you huff, shaking your head while going back to your phone to find the damn Uber.

“No luck?” Dave asked.

“No, this just-” You raised your eyes in time to see him really closer, looking curiously at you and the phone screen. That made you stop in your tracks, clearing your throat before speaking again. “I’m not really lucky with this stuff, maybe.”

“Huh,” He grinned, looking around for a second. “I was hoping I could come by, but since your night ended early, I can give you two a ride.”

“That’s not really necess-”

“It is!” Alessia cheerfully said from behind Dave, raising both hands in the air. “My feet are killing me, baby…”

That made you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” You said. “Really, Dave, you can have your drink, enjoy the night. We’ll find a ride to go back home.”

“I insist,” He pressed, one of his hands carefully placed on your right arm. “And anyway, I was planning on enjoying the night with good company. The only difference is that you’ll be in my car.”

Hah. How charming… You couldn’t help but smile at his statement, seeing from your peripheral that Alessia was smirking and making pouty kissy lips in your direction.

“... If you say so.”

“Yeah, he said so, can we go now?” The way your friend throwed the comment at you two made Dave grin grow wider.

“C’mon, ladies.”

He helped Alessia to sit properly on his back seat, even opened the door for you to sit at the passenger side. Took Alessia ten or fifteen seconds to pass out, sleeping soundly in a very embarrassing way. All the while, you sat there quiet, talking now and again to give directions to where your friend lived; Dave drove peacefully, right hand on the steering wheel while his left elbow was propped up on his open window, head tilted to the side.

You couldn’t help but pay attention, like any other moment you two were in the same room. He seemed tired, stern - work clothes still on, mind probably going somewhere else.

“You should start charging me, you know?” You decided to make small talk right after you two left Alessia at her place.

“Mm?” Dave hummed absently, not taking his eyes off the street.

“For these rides.”

He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, smiling a little.

“Should I?”

“Any other person with common sense would.”

For a moment, all he did was huff, but when you two stopped at a red light, Dave leaned comfortably on his seat and looked at you.

“You should know by now that I don’t play by common sense.”

“... No?” You frowned.

“Nn-nn. There’s a lot I prevent myself from doing that could have something to do with common sense.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?” The traffic light changed and he started driving again, but now more attentive to what you were saying, almost amused by the way his face was softer.

“You’re the perfect example of someone who plays by common sense. Polite, well dressed, family man…” The last word made you hiss internally.

“Mm.” He didn’t seem affected by your words, by the slight mention of his family, because that was one of the things you two never talked about. Still, you could punch yourself in the face for that.

“I mean, the usual.”

“Makes sense.”

“Right.”

“But everyone has things that don't have to do with socially acceptable stuff,” It carried an intensity, the way he said it, one that made you shift in your seat and burn your cheeks.

You brushed your fingers on the fabric of your skirt, averted your gaze from him to watch the street. Deciding against your better judgment, or just being a coward, you didn’t elaborate.

“Joe behaved?” He asked after a beat of silence, changing the subject.

“On his own terms, yes.”

“‘Would hate to have another talk about his approach with my assistant.”

My assistant. Why did that sound slightly… No, no. Get your fucking shit together.

“You two… talked?” You asked with curiosity, clearly a little confused by such information. He clearly didn’t need to do that.

“Did I do it wrong?”

“I just don’t want to bring you any problems.”

“You’re not,” Dave reassured you, shaking his head. “You’re my friend, aren’t you? I like to be sure my friend has anything they need if I can help.”

Yeah, friend would be… Yeah. Friend. Huh. Friend.

“Fair point.”

“I know,” He smiled.

The rest of the ride went on in silence, but you couldn't tell for sure if you were comfortable or anxious or confused. Or all at the same time. It was like you felt bad for even trying to read beyond kindness, like an obsessed teenager interpreting signs that weren't there. Maybe he just thought that Joe's presence still hovering around him could interfere with the quality of his work and, therefore, he just made sure he stayed away. It made sense.

When you arrived at your house, it took you a while to get out of the car, with a strange delay. It was clear that you wanted to enjoy that almost intimate and private time with Dave, to be close, to talk about what the two of you could have talked about at the bar if he hadn't been busy with work. You wanted to continue feeling the electricity of being close, of attraction, of hearing his voice for longer, his laugh, his mannerisms.

“I have beer,” You said bluntly. “If you want to, you know.”

He stared at you for a moment, measuring your face and lightly licking his bottom lip, then using his thumb to brush his chin - that regular tick he had.

“It’s late.” He said.

“... I know, sorry, I-”

“But beer sounds good.”

At the same time as you felt relieved, you felt a feeling in the pit of your stomach of anticipation. You smiled, got out of the car and clenched your fists when you heard him do the same behind you, followed by his footsteps on the asphalt until you realized that you should start walking to your door. Dave followed silently, keeping a respectful distance but curiously watching you the entire time you invited him in.

He didn't look around your living room when you turned on the light, nor at the place where you left your bag and keys - Dave looked at you, at what you were doing, in a look that seemed to penetrate your insides. You made a comment about him not noticing the mess and he just shook his head. You started walking to the kitchen, asked him to follow you and he did, stopping next to the counter and, again, burning your back as he stared at you, taking the beers from the fridge.

It was safer to sit at the kitchen table, so you did. Only then, when you started making comments about what was talked about in the bar hours before, about how fun it was, did Dave re-engage in the conversation, losing all his silent and observant posture for a more conversational one. You managed to relax more, but your body felt the way his eyes went from your eyes to your mouth as you spoke, or to your throat as you took a sip of beer. And you could certainly never catch him making any of these observations, because they were quick, subtle, almost hallucinogenic, as if you were imagining it.

At some point during that conversation, when it was actually much later in the night, you were wearing no heels, he was wearing just one more button undone on his shirt and the two of you became more comfortable on the couch, extending what seemed like the first conversation you were having in months. It could be the buzz of the beer or the tiredness, but you started to notice more closely the same things he might have been noticing about you: the little skin that showed at the opening of his shirt, the fabric of his pants pressing against his half-open thighs, the mouth touching the bottle spout.

You didn't even pay attention to whether you were being discreet about it or not.

“It surprises me,” He said casually, pulling you out of your trance.

“What?” You asked.

“No boyfriend or girlfriend on the line for you?”

“No… I think I’m always busy enough for that.”

“I can give you some days off if you need,” He joked, which made you two giggle a little. “But really, I’m impressed there isn’t no one in the game for you.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“There actually is someone.”

Dave raised his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“But it’s more like a platonic thing.”

“So a friend from work?”

Don’t answer that. Lie.

“Yes.”

“Do I know him?”

Lie!

“Maybe.”

He nodded his head, contemplating your answer carefully without taking his eyes off you. There was a pregnant pause, with you both just looking at each other without saying anything.

He was the one who approached first.

It wasn't something blatant, like grabbing a person out of nowhere, but it felt more like a probe, as if he was testing the waters before moving forward. You let him, because you knew it was incredibly sensual to see him take such small, subtle steps towards the end of all your doubts. He just adjusted his position and sat a little closer, placing one arm stretched across the back of the couch, his fingers almost touching your shoulder but not enough.

“So I am your will outside of common sense?” Dave asked in a low voice, head tilted to the side while he brought the same fingers close to the collar of your shirt, brushing the fabric calmly without losing eye contact. You swallowed hard, feeling a heat between your legs and the most irregular beating of your heart.

“... Mm-hm.”

“I see…” He hummed, moving his hand closer to your face, the tip of his fingers now grazing the skin of your neck, up to your jaw, cheek, the bridge of your nose and then the cupid bow of your lips.

That wandering tip of his finger booped the tip of your nose lightly, almost playfully, with a smile growing on his face at your lack of answer.

“I've always admired your facility with words, dear. Why are you suddenly so quiet with me?”

You blinked a few times at the call out.

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you want me, for starters. At least just as much as I want you.”

“How can I say that if I don’t know how much you want me?” It was your turn to be the smartass, but he liked it, biting his bottom lip.

“There we go, there’s my good girl back…” Dave leaned in even more, breath touching the corner of your mouth. “You’ll have to earn this info, baby. That’s how it works. Wanna know how to do it?”

You nodded.

“Words.” He used a stern tone, eye to eye.

“Yes,” Was your answer, one that came out breathly from the proximity.

“You’ll take your clothes off, then you’ll bounce on my cock like I know you dreamed of doing. I’m sure you’re already wet, I can fucking feel it. And you’re always so efficient, I know you can do it effortlessly.”

Dave had a commanding presence, a calm but stern way of ordering. He walked away, smiling like a rascal when he saw you try to follow the heat of his mouth with a pathetic movement of your head, and sat comfortably on the sofa, legs open and both hands resting on his thighs. You would find it ridiculous if it were anyone else, but it was Dave, so you unconsciously started to go for the buttons of your shirt.

“Get up,” He interrupted your movements. “‘Want you to put on a show for me.”

And damn, you did it. You got up, wobbling a little from arousal, standing in front of his spread legs and getting even more hot with his lustful gaze. Tentatively, you unzipped your skirt and moved your hips so it fell to your feet. As soon as you opened each button on your shirt, he lifted your hips a little off the couch, taking one of his hands to adjust his hard on. It was a scene you certainly wouldn't forget.

“Nah,” Dave raised a single finger before you could open your bra. “Changed my mind. Sit here.”

Again, you obliged, both hands on his shoulders for support while you straddled his waist. He seemed distracted by your lingerie, looking and analyzing you, running his hand over the straps, then over the transparent fabric that barely covered your nipples, attentive to the care he was directing towards them. When you sighed at the contact, he leaned his head and gave one of them a small kiss through the fabric, making you whimper.

He was so hard against your covered core, you almost moved your hips for some friction, but before you had the chance, Dave grabbed the sides of your panties, pulling them up and pressing the fabric against your throbbing clit. The motherfucker was playing with you, observing each change in your expression at the teasing.

“Such a pretty pussy…” There was an amused tone there too when he pulled the panties to the side and brushed his knuckles on that sensitive area. “What’s taking you so long to fuck yourself on me, hon? Go on. Take it off.”

Gaining some ‘decency’, you went to his belt, easily opening his pants and taking in the sight of a big and really hard cock that was melting with pre cum. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight, of being able to hold it against your palm and pump him a few times. He groaned at the stimulation, as if warning you to go faster, to fucking sit on it, so you obliged again, stretching yourself with his length and moaning at the sensation of being so full.

“Thaaaat’s it,” Dave gripped your hips firmly, growling. “Get used to it, baby. Stretch that pussy, get used to my cock so you can have it anytime you want.”

“Yeah?” You panted.

“Mm-hm,” That was all the encouragement you needed to start moving, rolling your hips and going up and down slowly, savoring the moment with him. “Since the first time I saw you looking at me, begging me to fuck you good, I wanted to bend you over that desk and give exactly what you’re asking. Because that’s what you wanted, eh? Wanted me to fuck this pussy?”

“Yes… Fuck, yes…” You closed your eyes at his words, aroused by the discovery that your desire didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“So do it. Prove to me that this lingerie is for me, not for Joe.”

Dave was frowning in concentration when you blinked at him. The admission seemed coherent, like all the reactions he had about you mentioning Joe started to make sense. Fuck, he was jealous and that was so hot.

“Jealous?” You smirked, speeding up the movements of your hips against his.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fucking jealous,” He slapped one of your ass cheeks, bringing your face closer with a hand wrapped possessively on the nape of your neck. “Jealous that he got to get you, to talk to me about how hot you were and that you’re not mine. Almost taught him a lesson, almost fucking killed him…”

It could be a reaction of the intensity of the moment, but you thought it was so hot that all you could do was moan. Suddenly, then, you were on your back on the couch, with him sealing your lips in a harsh and wet kiss, pounding inside of you restlessly.

“All mine, you hear me? You’re mine,” Dave bit your bottom lip harshly, making you taste blood on your tongue, then touched your forehead with his. “Say it.”

“I…” You were close, so close, faster than with any other partner you ever had in your bed before. “I’m yours, Dave… Yours…”

“That’s it, you’re mine. Fucking mine,” He got on his knees, putting your legs up around his hips, going even more deeper while watching him disappearing inside you. “Joe doesn’t get to fuck you like this, I do.”

Taken by the same lust as you, he groaned when he noticed you getting your orgasm with a high moan, wrapping his fingers around your neck for stability while not stopping the movement of his hips. The slap sound of skin on skin made you go crazy, gripping his arms with the sensation of your second orgasm coming in full force.

He came a lot. Taking deep breaths, you just felt all of his seed inside, but also dripping around your thighs and probably wetting the cushions below you two. All of this, all of the intensity, and Dave was fully dressed.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft again, nothing like the savage he’d been minutes before. With the weight of him on top of you, his breath on your neck and his come on your legs, all you could do was nod. “Words.”

The second order made you put your arms around his torso, holding him close.

“I am, Dave. I am.”

He groaned a little to support himself on his hands, eyeing you from above and taking in your cock drunk expression.

“You look even more gorgeous like that,” The comment made you smile shyly at him. “Been jerking off for quite some time imagining your face after I fucked you, not I’ll need to do more times so I can’t forget.”

“I’m willing to help.”

“Good,” He smiled, leaning down to kiss you slowly and sensually, probably tasting a little blood from your injured lip. “Because I’ll fucking tear you apart.”

#dave york x reader #female reader #dave york fic #dave york smut #dave york x you #equalizer 2 #dave york fanfiction #dave york x female reader #pedro pascal

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iambic-stan · 7 days ago

Text

Benevolent Heretics

I started writing this the other day and didn't stop until it was done. Can it please happen IRL? I plucked an older character, Vera, from this dream-turned-story and here she is, a bit older and bolder but still somewhat self-conscious.

If it was a waiting room, it certainly didn't feel like any I'd ever occupied. First of all, there was complimentary coffee. Don't misunderstand me, though--it wasn't a slender Keurig sitting next to some Styrofoam cups. There was an actual barista with beautiful taupe skin, box braids, wide-leg jeans and a crop top that said "Hillman College." There was a fancy La Marzocco espresso machine and freshly baked pastries. The lemon basil mini bundt cake looked delicious but I couldn't bring myself to eat. That, and the pastries weren't free and I'd almost gambled all of my paycheck on this visit, hoping for, but not counting on, reimbursement from my insurance. I eyed the dry erase board of specialty drinks, trying to read through ingredients quickly so the barista wouldn't become impatient.

"Baby, you can take your time," she said. "I love your hair, by the way. What do you call that color? It's like there are little specks of gold in the blue when you turn a certain way."

I beamed. "Thank you so much. Lapis lazuli."

"Oh, perfect!"

"Do you have a favorite scene in A Different World?

"When Diahann Carroll is telling Dwayne Wayne to just die," she said without missing a beat.

I laughed. "Oh, I suppose I wanna try a hot Purple Haze?"

"Medium or dark roast?"

"I guess medium?"

I stared at the art behind her. It depicted a dark-haired white man sitting in a booth, a sort of frustrated expression on his face. Seated next to him was a great blue heron that almost seemed to be wearing a smile. So strange.

"And what's your favorite scene?" she asked, setting the drink in front of me, little purple crystals sitting on top of the cloud-shaped foam art. "Lids are on the counter to your right."

At that moment, an older middle-aged woman opened the door across the room, said, "Vera?" and looked in my direction. I took her in for a second. Her long, curly brown hair cascaded over a kaftan with, was it narwhal print? The straps on her sandals were ocean waves.

We made eye contact. "Ready for you," she said, smiling airily.

"Oh!" I said. 'Ok." I grabbed my drink and started walking toward her, then recalled the question. Before I disappeared down the hallway behind the woman, I turned and called out, "When Lena is explaining the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet!" I thought the barista was smiling but it was hard to say.

The hallway was a bit of a labyrinth, but every twist and turn had a surprise. The first treat was a banana ball python in a terrarium. "That's Bert," the woman said, turning back to glimpse my face. "Ernie's at the vet overnight, but he's fine."

"Oh that's adorable!" I exclaimed, sipping my lavender and chamomile latte.

"By the way, I'm Celeste," she said warmly. "It's great to meet you in person." She reached for my hand, her bangle bracelets clanging against each other.

"You're the lady I talked to all last month!" I blurted out. I took the hand she offered, and she gently placed her other hand on top of mine, soft and smelling like jasmine.

I looked up at her, then down at my feet. This woman knew just about everything...about one thing. But it was one of the most important things in my life. It felt frighteningly vulnerable. I racked my brain to recall what I knew about her so I'd feel less disadvantaged. It felt like I was running a search in Windows for "celeste" and opening every relevant file of hundreds, not quite knowing what I expected to find. I knew she was married and had two black labs. She started out as a physical therapist and then decided to specialize in....whatever this was. My own physical therapist had recommended her. She loved David Lynch films, Isabelle Allende novels, and lots of Brazilian bossa nova singers I'd never heard of. She loved Italian restaurants but never ordered spaghetti because "you can make that much better at home." She sang in the choir at the Unitarian church down the road. She researched everything she bought to ensure it was vegan. She had family in Washington, the state. She really liked Animal Farm when she read it in school, too. Everything I knew about her felt so surface level compared to everything she knew about me. And some of what I knew was from doing my own internet research, if I was honest. She let go of my hand and I shuddered for a second when she turned and said, "Just a bit further; we're almost there," and kept walking.

Up ahead, I saw that the walls turned into aquariums full of colorful fish: gouramis, oscars, cichlids, danios, and barbs. I stood mesmerized as she opened a door and motioned for me to step in front of her. "The fish are always a big hit," she said. I followed her into an office-like room with a very 70s vibe. The groovy aesthetic went so far that it had one of those conversation pits with an orange plaid couch and bookshelves. I started reading titles and spotted I Can't Date Jesus and A Queer and Pleasant Danger. She stepped down onto the couch, sat down, and started writing notes in a little pad.

"You can sit," she said, noticing how I was just standing there, my eyes flitting from macrame hanging pots to lava lamps to fabric posters, overwhelmed by all the mustard yellow, avocado, and earthy brown tones everywhere.

I rubbed my sweaty hands together and sat several feet away from her on the same side of the square-shaped couch. I looked her way and my eyes fixated on her turquoise necklace and the movement of her chest as she breathed. My eyes travelled up and I searched for a neck pulse, then quickly looked away as soon as I realized what I was doing. She stopped writing and looked straight at me. "Whatever you're thinking is ok here," she assured me. "Nothing to feel self-conscious about."

"Do you see a lot of people like me?"

"In what way? Do you mean cardiophiles? If so, not a lot, but you're not the first."

I let out a long sigh. "There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about this," I confessed.

"And there's nothing wrong with that. It's more common than you think, even more so for neurodivergent people like yourself."

"I prefer 'neuro spicy,'" I chuckled. She smiled, nodded.

"Is your heart beating fast, Vera?" she asked plainly. It was a simple question, but as soon as she uttered it, the words stretched out in my brain like cold cane syrup. I stared into her eyes and heard the words "heart" "beating" and "fast" over and over again for several seconds. I was so entranced that I didn't hear myself say, "Yeah. It is," until it had already escaped my mouth.

She laughed casually. "And that's perfectly normal. The last time we had a cardiophile here, he was an older man, many years ago. He was recovering from cancer treatment--that was what led him to physical therapy, and then to me. I started out as a more traditional physical therapist, and in my practice I learned about the more unusual ways that physical intimacy healed--for those who have interests that aren't mainstream, and nonsexual kinks, if you will. It works in tandem with conventional physical therapy. I set my own boundaries because I have to, and they are firm, but you might be surprised how much one can do with clothes on, and how gratifying that can be for the client. I don't have a personal investment in most of the services I provide here, but in my line of work I've become deeply interested in sensuality and the multitude of ways that humans experience it. The pre-visit chats are designed to help us feel comfortable with each other, and if you're wondering--yes, they are covered under your insurance, as are our in-person appointments. As long as your therapist and I can justify to the insurance company that you're making progress, they will provide at least partial coverage."

"What if...I no longer need physical therapy but I still want to come here and do this?"

"Many people do, and you can discuss payment plans with Yasmin up front. She's the barista who served you."

"Oh wow. Ok, great."

"Do you want to play music? Since your interest is largely about listening and being listened to, I know that might be a distraction, but I could play it at a low volume. Also, this is something we ask every client."

I nodded, and she continued, "We have a record player and mostly 70s music to fit with the room's motif, but if you want something else, I should be able to pull it up for you."

I only thought about it for a moment. "Do you have Fleetwood Mac's Tusk album?"

She nodded, ascended the two steps that led out of the conversation pit, and crossed the room to an refurbished old phonograph with an oak horn. She flipped through a crate of records and within a minute had retrieved Tusk. "For the longest time, it was all about Stevie for me," she said. "And then, I don't know, I was at a party and they were playing Mirage. Somehow I'd never heard 'Hold Me' and I just thought Christine and Lindsey's voices blended so well. I love all of Christine's tracks on Mirage now, even the cheesiest." I smiled at this anecdote, closed my eyes and listened to the soft whine of Lindsey's slide guitar. Christine's vocals came in as smooth as honey, and I thought about how a song with such insecure lyrics could be so soothing sonically. The sound mattered much more to me.

She reached into an armoire and pulled out a cardboard box. She placed it beside me as she stepped back down into the pit. "You can pick out a stethoscope from there. Or like I said the other day, you can bring your own. I just need an extra minute to sanitize it. Just standard procedure," she shrugged. I rifled through several stethoscopes and pulled out a Littmann with a rose gold teardrop-shaped chest piece and a pink satin finish.

"It's like if Glinda had one," I heard myself saying.

"You liked Wicked?" she asked. "I need to find time to go see it."

"Oh it's sooooo good," I told her.

"Alright, so we have thirty minutes left. I'll lead the session, but your job is also to let me know if there's anything else you need or if you're uncomfortable. In the case of the former, I'll see if I can accommodate, and in the case of the latter, we will stop and discuss what needs to change. Does that make sense?" I nodded. "Ok, if you don't mind, I need you to unbutton the second button on the top of your shirt." I did as she asked, all the while wondering if she could see my heart pounding. My chest was small, so I wasn't revealing any cleavage, but my thin build almost made it easy to see through. She slowly placed the palm of her hand over my heart and kept it there for a few seconds. "I can feel it; it's so fast," she remarked. The practiced smile on her face really only indicated a passing, and I suppose professional, interest in my heartbeat, but that was enough for me.

By the time she was wearing the binaurals and positioning its chest piece on my bare chest, the frantic, rushed "The Ledge" was playing and my heart pounded along with Lindsey Buckingham's bass. Unlike any doctor I'd ever seen, Celeste moved the chest piece all around the terrain of my chest, stopping for a bit at each location to hear what my valves would do. I took deep breaths without realizing it, and I looked down to see the stethoscope rise and fall with my body. "I haven't listened to a great deal of hearts in my line of work, but this one sounds pretty great to me." I looked over at her face, the metal tubes peeking out from behind her hair. There was something so reassuring about looking at someone wearing binaurals like that, knowing they were listening to me. I saw her eyes on her phone and wondered what she was looking at until she said, "109, how about that? That's pretty fast for resting. I'm glad I've gotten your heart to engage with me so fully." I thought I would melt. When she was finished listening, "Think About Me" had played and the mercifully short "Save Me a Place" had just ended.

"Would you like to listen to my heart?" she asked. "It's a little fast because I think it has reacted to yours. Just a heads up. You're welcome to listen if you'd like. But also know that it's ok with me if you don't want to. Either way."

"Can I lay down on the sofa while I'm listening?"

"Absolutely, let me grab one of the throw pillows for your head."

The entirety of "Sara" played while Celeste held the chest piece under her narwhal kaftan and I closed my eyes while facing the ceiling. I mean I knew that "Sara" was the next cut on the record, but the noise-cancelling feature of the stethoscope worked so well that I couldn't even tell music was playing. I just heard her fast heartbeat layered with her steady breathing. For a moment, I wondered how old she was. At least mid-50s, probably? Maybe older. Definitely at least ten years my senior. And all the while, I thought to myself, she'd had this organ working inside of her all the time. Unless she'd had a transplant, I reasoned. But my mind didn't dawdle on those thoughts. With my eyes closed, I could imagine I was swimming, or hiking, or biking. I settled on imagining I was floating in a blue lagoon, seeing a waterfall up ahead. I swam a leisurely breaststroke to the waterfall and let it pour all over my body. And then my mind just went blank. There was just nothing--except for the sound. And the sound was crystal clear and exquisite. I didn't realize how much time had passed and was surprised to hear "but never have I been a blue calm sea," when I took the stethoscope off. We were already at the end of "Storms"?

I sat up, turned around, and saw that Celeste was smiling so warmly I could've mistaken this scene for a Hallmark movie. My brain wanted to stop and take a screenshot of the moment she handed me the other end of the instrument and our hands were both touching it--hers a deep olive, mine rosier. My hands were unadorned but she wore delicate little rings with tiny rhodolite and hematite stones. "You can put it on the end table to your left," she indicated.

"If it was mine it would have a gender and a name and everything," I told her excitedly.

She laughed heartily and I had a revelation that being proud of making your therapist laugh applies to just about all types of therapists. "How was that?" she asked.

"It was wonderful. You sound great. It--it was great," I said with the imagination of a Tumblr bot.

"Did you tell me a few weeks ago you have an electronic stethoscope?"

"Yes--an Eko Core 500 named Christine, actually."

"Feel free to bring her next time." She pulled out her phone. "I have you down for...this time in two weeks. Does that still work for you?"

"Yes, that sounds great," I said like a broken record. I would have more and better words for the experience later.

She asked if I had any questions, and if this was what I'd had in mind. No and a million times yes. We exchanged more small talk about weekend plans--work and a hike for me, house cleaning and possibly seeing Wicked with her partner for her. She walked me back through the labyrinth and I waved goodbye to an indifferent Bert. I made sure to give Yasmin a thumbs up on my drink as I sipped the rest on my way out, and when I stepped out into the chilly December morning, I felt brand new.

#cardiophilia #cardiophile #stethoscopes #auscultation #cardiophile story #cardiophilia story #therapy #70s #Fleetwood Mac #A Different World #1970s

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