#you don't need to quote every word the other person said
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skelezomperman · 2 years ago
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A Classic Digression on FE7 and two pet peeves in argument
I got into a rabbit hole this morning and ended up finding my way to this classic post about FE7's story being bad. This post is so influential that even nowadays you will see people pointing to it to show what's wrong with FE7's story.
(Spoilers for FE7 and FE8 ahead)
I do agree with many of the criticisms levied at FE7's story. It's not great and I would rate FE6 as better. That said, I feel that if this kind of post came out today, I would find it obnoxious. I read through the post and thought that there were several places where the OP was being too hard on the game and this is especially evident as I'm playing through FE7 right now. At one point for example, the OP criticizes that Marquess Araphen refuses to provide aid to Lyn. Yes, on paper it's nonsensical that he would ally with the guy who tried to burn down his castle, but it seemed crystal-clear to me that this is because the marquess is that racist against Sacaeans (and I would say the racism is a pretty big part of Lyn's arc). Another point is when they criticize Hector for killing (or knocking out) a soldier in Chapter 11. Yes, Hector is not exactly a paragon of maturity, but that's the point - he's a 17 year old who has to grow up through the course of the story.
It was interesting to see the amount of criticism in that thread, so much so that it got locked after a week. I would say it was earned. FE7 isn't the pinnacle of storytelling in this franchise, but you could go through any story with a fine comb like that and make it look bad. I remember that when I was first starting to get into the broader fandom a few years ago, it was in fashion to act as though FE7 was the worst game in the series. I'm glad we're past that because the game isn't really that bad, but it's worth remembering that even in the past the fandom has had its warts.
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On a broader note, I said that the post was obnoxious because I realize that it hits two pet peeves of mine which I see a lot. The first is that I see a lot of people robbing context from an argument and criticizing something because it looks bad without context. This happens in both story and gameplay arguments, but in story arguments I often see this manifest with the "plot holes mentality." By this, I mean the mentality that any sort of action that is not perfectly logical is a plot hole and a failing of the story. The problem is that if every character acted perfectly logically, the plot would be rather uninteresting. Also, I personally feel that even an actual plot hole (i.e., a part of the plot that directly contradicts the setting or facts established elsewhere) is not a big deal if the story is written well around it. But some people act like things like Eirika giving the stone to Lyon is the end of the world because they ignore the context that Eirika and Lyon were close friends and Formortiis/Lyon was manipulating her. It's so silly that people ignore context.
The second pet peeve is this style of argument where someone will go through every minor point in the piece they are criticizing and individually critique each piece. Oftentimes on Reddit, I'll see this style of post or comment reply where someone will literally blockquote every individual thought, write a block of text rebutting each thought, and then move on to the next thought. I frankly find this to be very obnoxious. This style of argument outright discourages me from reading through, firstly because it's kind of insulting to the person to comb through every word they said, secondly because it's so gigantic. Brevity is an undervalued skill. I will say, if you are tempted to write in this sort of way, just don't. Get to your main point(s) and be done with it. Nobody is going to give you a gold star because you did the most "comprehensive" rebuttal that was possible. Prioritize readability over "winning the argument."
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parfaitblogs · 1 month ago
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(totally not based on my day) but a simple request for spencer helping reader out with a bunch of chores bc she's overwhelmed with life and she decides to thank him with like the quote "best head of his life" and he's like "its okay you dont have to do that" and she's responds "but i am anyways"
it will come back ❀ s. reid x reader
in which spencer reid helps you when you're (very) overwhelmed, and you might need to return the favour.  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort & smut (18+ mdni) tags: oral (m receiving). praise. established relationship. reader's overwhelmed overstimulated overworked... very enthusiastic head giver!reader. use of honey and angel. they love each other a lot. i love them a lot. i don’t think there’s d/s dynamics but if there are it’s soft dom spencer (nobody’s shocked). word count: 3.1k a/n: thank u sooo much for reading my brain ily i need to give spencer reid head asap. new format/layout for requests sort of its the same as my normal post layout... do we like... i sure freaking hope so. as always lmk if u liked this or even if u didn't but preferably if u did!!
You were exhausted. For three weeks straight, you had been working nonstop, with a wondrous total of eight hours in between shifts. You were hardly sleeping, you had hardly had a social life, hell, you never even had time to enjoy the simple pleasures of an everything shower. You felt groggy, and cramped, and everyday felt like an awful repeat of the last. A nightmare that never ended. 
Never mind the fact that you hadn't seen your boyfriend.
Always home too late to be with him in the evenings, and up too early to get coffee with him before your days started. Spencer was so patient with you, regardless. He knew it would end eventually, and he would get his girlfriend back. It was just for the month, was what you would text each other whenever the other began feeling particularly lonely. He didn't even like texting, but the time for a simple phone call wasn't available to you anymore. 
And your apartment. Every time you stepped into it you swore a new dirty dish materialised in your sink, or a new pile of clothes sat themselves in your bedroom floor. Which was odd, because you had rotated between the same two outfits for the last eighteen days — your work uniform, or your pyjamas. 
You were overwhelmed with it all. Even as your hectic work life came to an end, and you were waking up to the sunlight pouring into your room, instead of an alarm clock while the moon was still up. You were acutely aware of the mess of your apartment, and just the thought of it all left you lying motionless in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. 
Tears stung your vision as you felt the seconds tick into minutes, and nothing happened. Attempting to will yourself to get up, and yet you simply couldn't. Exhausted beyond belief, with limbs sinking into the mattress and melding to the sheets. 
You faintly heard the click of your front door lock, and if you had any more motivation in you, you'd probably get up to double check it was the only other person who had a key to your apartment, and not a burglar. Thankfully, you didn't have to, for Spencer was calling out your name, gently.
Too exhausted to even reply and alert him of where you were, you lay still until he had found you in your bedroom, his bad dropping by the doorway, feet shuffling against the rug. 
"Good afternoon," he said, finding a seat on the edge of your bed, hand resting atop your thigh, gentle circles being rubbed into the skin. 
"Is it already afternoon?" you asked him, voice quiet. 
"Yeah. How long have you been awake in bed?" 
"I don't know," you answered, voice awfully small as you felt the thick weight of frustration with yourself blanket over you. "I need to get up. The apartment's a mess."
"It's allowed to be," he said. "You've been doing sixteen hour days."
"Yeah, but I'm not today. I have the day off."
"Your first day off in weeks. I'd be concerned if you'd spent it productively."
You stared at him, unsure if the irritation that settled in your bones was because of his insistence that you not doing a thing was okay, or your exhaustion. Logically, it would be the latter. You did know that, deep down. 
Upon seeing your eyes delve into something a little more desperate, he sighed, hand sliding up to your own, gently tugging you up into a seated position. His eyebrows knitted together at your exhausted look, and you could see his brain ticking behind his eyes.
"Do you want to split the tasks?" he finally asked.
"You don't have to," you shrugged your shoulders. "It's my mess."
"Honey, you're already overwhelmed, and all you've done is wake up," he answered, thumb drawing circles on the top of your hand that he still seemed to have clasped within his own. "Let me help."
"It's really gross."
"I've seen mutilated dead bodies."
"I'd argue my kitchen sink is worse."
"Oh would you?" his eyebrows shot up, lips twitching in amusement, that you found solace in, distracting you slightly from your overstimulated mind. "Do you want to have a shower?"
"Yes," you nodded your head, brain ticking over all the personal hygiene tasks you had been neglecting over the past few weeks. 
"How about you go shower, I'll start cleaning up, and you come join me when you're feeling better?"
Despite your aversion to anybody but yourself tackling the mess of your apartment, you knew better than to deny Spencer any further — he had set his mind on helping you. 
Sighing, you nodded your head in defeat. He had coaxed you up off the bed, gotten you to the bathroom, even found you a fresh set of clothes to wear, and waited with you for the water to warm up. It was really only once he was absolutely sure you had gotten into the shower, did he leave you be, and disappeared from the bathroom. 
Eventually, the apartment had been cleaned, with efforts from the both of you getting it to where it now was. 
You were a lot less exhausted, and your brain was a lot less fried now that you didn't have a million tasks catalogued within it to get done. 
You were lying in your freshly made bed — courtesy of Spencer. Your head on his chest, fidgeting with one of his hands as he used the other to wave around as he rambled about something you were no longer following. It had started as a simple explanation for why you had been so overwhelmed in the first place. Which you had asked as a rhetoric, but didn't have the heart to stop him when he began explaining. 
"You're not listening, are you?" he asked, free hand poking your side and emitting an involuntary laugh from you at the feeling. 
"I am, I am! I'm just not following anymore."
"Sorry."
"It's okay," you replied, turning and poking your head up to be level with his. "I like hearing you speak, anyways. Doesn't matter if I don't understand."
He only hummed as a response, and the two of you stared at each other for a beat, before you were breaking out into a smile. 
"Hi," you chirped. 
"Hello," he answered, perhaps a little too amused by your sudden energy. "Would you like something?"
"A kiss?"
"After all that labour I just put in for you?" he mused, but he was already lifting his head to brush his lips against yours, and was most certainly not pulling away when you eagerly connected them properly. 
You pulled back after a few moments, searching his face. "Do you want something for all that labour?"
His hand trailed up your spine, fingertips triggering a shiver to run up your back. "What do you have in mind?"
"I could give you the best head of your life."
He was clearly not expecting that as an offer, perhaps because you never had offered such a thing before. It wasn't even something you had talked about, which was bizarre (in your mind), considering he was quite enthusiastic about using his mouth on you. 
"You don't need to do that," he shook his head, but with how close your faces were, you could see the instant dilation in his pupils. 
"What if I want to?" 
"Then that's very nice of you, but my point still stands," he replied.
"Spencer, let me do something in return," your voice was nothing short of a whine, and if he was any less turned on, maybe it wouldn't have made his firm footed denial falter. Maybe you knew that.
"You could do anything but that."
"So a handjob?"
"Or that."
"You're such an awful liar," you huffed. "I can see your pupils dilating. I know you're turned on by the thought of it."
"It could just be because I'm looking at you," he answered, voice hoarse, no doubt from the arousal he was attempting to deny was there. "Romantic attraction triggers the same response in our hormones."
"But it's not."
He fell silent for a few moments, before he allowed his resolve to slip, shaking his head in agreement with you. "No. It's not."
"See! It's okay if you want it. I'm quite literally offering myself to you," you spouted. 
His eyes fluttered shut, and he exhaled through his nose, words coming out through almost gritted teeth. "That's not a sentence you should be saying."
"Why not?"
His only response was to say your name chidingly, and when he reopened his eyes, he was met with the shit-eating grin on your face. 
"Brat," he mumbled, lips seeking yours once again.
"Who gives really good head," you hummed against his mouth. "And would really love to show you."
"If you're insisting—"
"Which I am," you quickly interjected, staring back at him as yet another amused smile stretched across his lips. Then, he was nodding his head, and you were quite cheerfully kissing him all over again.
It wasn't that you kissed him with much fever at all — in fact, you were melting into his lips with a gentle hum. It was simply that he was kissing you back with a desperation you should be accustomed to. You weren't. 
Every kiss you received from him always felt like he was chipping away at your soul, claiming a piece of it. Maybe he was.
You mewled when his teeth nipped at your lower lip, and he was quick to take the opportunity of slipping his tongue into your mouth. Though, alerted by his sudden control over the situation between you two, you reluctantly pulled your face away from his before it could go much further. 
"Excuse me," he breathed out, scoldingly, only to be met with your hundredth grin of the day as you descended down his body. He'd take it — you smiling, albeit cockily, was much more rewarding than the concerned look you had been sporting for the majority of the afternoon. 
"I don't do this very often," you told him as you lifted your gaze to his, absentmindedly tugging his pants down his legs. 
"I hope not. You've never done it for me, and we've been together for quite a while."
"You know what I mean," you grumbled, and he was forced to poke his tongue into the inside of his cheek to keep the smile off his face. 
"Is this comfortable for you?" he then asked, having noticed your constant adjustments of your positioning between his legs. From nerves or comfortability, he didn't know. 
"Um. I guess so," you replied. "I've never done it lying down."
"We can do it however you prefer to do it, angel."
"Oh. Okay. Cool," you mumbled, sitting up straight and grabbing his hands within your own, tugging him over towards the edge of the bed. 
You sank to your knees on the rug, tapping his knees with your hands to part them so you could situate yourself comfortably between them. 
You were a vision if he'd ever seen one, and you weren't even doing anything. Perhaps you had noticed the effect you had on him, or maybe you were just largely enthusiastic about doing something for him, and only him. 
Your tongue darted out to lick your lips, eyes flickering up to meet his face, and if this was the last sight he saw before he died, he would have no complaints. 
"Have you ever gotten head before?" you mumbled, eyes fixated on him as your hands trailed up the sides of his thighs, resting at the waistband of his boxers. 
"Yes."
"Okay," you whispered, quietly, tapping his hips so he could lift them, and you rolled his boxers down his skin.
"Okay?" he parroted. 
"Okay," you confirmed with a nod of your head. "I just wanted to know if this is going to be completely new for you or not."
As you spoke, your fingertips dragged along his inner thighs, lips following soon after, kissing up the skin. 
"I don't think that's going to matter, honey," he answered, voice breathless. 
You smiled, not needing to ask what he meant. You lifted your head back up, studying his face. He gave you a nod, a silent confirmation to allow you to go further, and you took a beat to compose yourself. It's not like he would be mad at you if it sucked, but you had had a far too awful day to not do something good. 
You hadn't done this in a while, it was true. So your hesitance came more from your brain figuring out what it actually needed to do, than your insecurities (they were there too). 
Insecurities that melted away within an instant, for Spencer's thighs tensed beneath your hands that were now holding them apart the second your lips made contact with his cock, and through your lashes you could see his head tipping back. 
Your cheeks warmed at how easy it was to get him to respond, and you wondered if the satisfaction settled in your chest was anything similar to how he felt when he did this to you. 
You started hesitant. Gentle kitten licks at his tip that probably shouldn't have been garnering such a large reaction from him. But it was, and you had to preoccupy your mouth to keep the smug smile off of it. 
Wrapping your lips around the head, he lets out the breathiest moan you think you've ever heard come from him, and your mind goes hazy. Newfound blind confidence wills you to take more of him in your mouth, and it's a quiet 'Fuck' that compels you even further. 
In hindsight, he knew he'd enjoy it. It was you after all. He knew from the world shattering arousal that the simple sight of you on your knees was. He had, in a few short seconds, mentally prepared to enjoy this.
But not this much, and certainly not this quickly. 
"I've been too selfless," he muttered as you lifted your head back up, tongue licking a stripe up the underside of him as you did. When you met his gaze in question, he added, "I mean never asking you for this. I should've."
You hummed as a response (it was all you really could do), and the gentle vibrations shot heat throughout his body. A shuddering moan rocked through his body, and if not for your quick response time in pushing his hips down, they would've knocked against your face when he bucked them up.
You hollowed your cheeks, lowering your head back down, and emitting the loveliest of moans from Spencer, whose hand found its way to your hair. Upon the lack of your protests, he made a loose ponytail with his fist, gently tugging on it upwards so you could lift your head. 
You flattened your tongue on your ascend, successfully making his already weak grip on your hair go slack, within only seconds of him having grabbed it. Swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, his hips bucked up again, and you flinched. 
"Jesus—fuck, sorry, honey," he rasped, though his guilt was quick to dissipate as he saw your thumbs up against his thigh. Your movements weren't hesitant, anymore. Just slow. Tortuously slow. "Can I..." he trailed off, seemingly becoming unsure of what it was he was asking of you within seconds, but the retightening of his hand in your hair gave you all you needed to know. 
You nodded your head the best you could, and he mumbled a quiet 'thank you', allowing you to set a base pace, before taking over. 
"So good. Jesus Christ, angel. Where did you learn this? Don't answer that. Don't tell me. Shit." 
His rambling was sharp sentences, that didn't really sound like they belonged together, and certainly didn't sound like they should be coming out of his mouth. They weren't the most articulately structured phrases he's ever come up with. A thought that comforted you, because you were doing that to him. 
"Fuck," he breathed out, once more, and you came to the mental conclusion you've never heard him swear so much in his life. The thought made your stomach flip.
Fingers dug into your scalp, though not too harshly to hurt. In fact, you were letting out a quiet moan of your own at the feeling, hips wiggling. Even in his state, Spencer noticed, and he smiled.
"You—ah—okay, angel?" he asked you, and you relished in the fact that he couldn't get out sentences without moaning. 
Your response was yet another hum, and he was bucking his hips. Again.
You knew he was close for a multitude of reasons; the fact that he had quickened his gentle-turned-firm guidance of your head, his fingers tugging on your hair a little harsher than before, and the ever so lovely, "Jesus Christ—please—oh," leaving his lips, breathlessly.
It was a few more moments of that, before the fingers in your hair went impossibly tight, and the muscles in his thighs locked beneath your hands. 
The fact you had never discussed doing this, meant neither of you knew the other's stance on what to do. Thankfully, Spencer was rendered so frenzied that he couldn't do anything. 
It was a sickeningly lovely sight; you pulling back and swallowing, some of his come painting your bottom lip. His fingers twitched, before they dropped back to the mattress on either side of his body, his chest heaving just as much as your own. 
Lightheaded, you slowly brought yourself back up to your feet, and Spencer's arms were quick to wrap around the backs of your thighs, pulling you into him. 
"Best head of your life?" you asked, lowering your lips to brush against his. 
"By a mile," he replied. 
"Just one mile?" 
"Maybe two."
Shooting him a glare, you huffed, and he laughed. "You're never getting head again, then."
He nipped your lower lip. "Okay."
"I'm putting my foot down," you retorted, disliking his lack of belief in your words. "Never again."
"I believe that."
"You should."
"Oh, I do," he hummed, sarcasm in his words making you frown. "Are your knees okay?" 
If his goal was to distract you, he succeeded, for your eyes were instantly dropping to your knees, indents from the threads of the rug evident. 
"They're okay," you confirmed, squirming as his thumbs rubbed circles into the skin on your thighs. 
"Tell me if they're not," he instructed, and you nodded. He stood up, hands sliding up to your waist. "Shower?"
"Shower," you confirmed with a nod, despite the fact that you had showered only a few hours prior. "Can we watch a movie after?"
"Yes."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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taintandviolent · 6 months ago
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Lime Green Jell-O; Peter Maximoff x Reader
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summary: Reader is in a situationship with Peter Maximoff. It's been casual on both ends, or so you thought. You think he's jealous and you decide to tease a little hard. Peter can't take the heat, though.
word count: 2K!
w a r n i n g s: shameless smut, smut with a little plot, unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of jealousy, possible jealousy kink.
a/n: anonymous request! you guys keep asking me to write Peter, and I'm nervous every single time, istg. I hope it delivered, and you enjoyed reading it! ps: dividers are by firefly-graphics!
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full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of future fics!
Peter sat bolt upright, as if you’d just announced the most horrible thing in the world. Which to him, you had. 
"So, you've been seeing other guys?" Peter asked painfully casually, working overtime to control the pitch of his voice. Any hint of his true feelings and he'd be done for. 
You scoffed, feigning offense. "Of course I have." You gulped down the last bit of soda, and crawled over on the bed to throw it in the bin. Most of your free days were spent in his room, fooling around, playing video games with him, and watching whatever cheesy movie he’d put on. He seemed to think you had extra free-time that you’d spent with other guys.
Though it was only a nano-second, Peter's brows furrowed, and his lips frowned. You narrowed your eyes, and he immediately shifted in his jacket, returning to his previous state. No way she saw that. No way -- it was too fast. He darted to the bed, standing in front of you. 
Getting to your knees, you squared up. Inhaled and closed your mouth, crossing your arms firmly across your chest, underneath your breasts. Your shirt was low-cut enough that he saw the shift in your cleavage. He clenched his jaw, averting his dark eyes elsewhere. This wasn’t the time to start getting a stiffie. 
"Peter," you started, a reprimanding tone in your voice. If he was going to pull the loyalty card now… you smirked. "The first time we hooked up you said, and..." You brought your fingers up to make quotes in the air, in front of his face. "I quote: 'Nothin' serious, babe'. So....." 
Damn. Peter pushed his lips forward, nodding. "Right, yeah, I did say that. And I so totally meant it." 
"Good, so… you shouldn't care if things are getting pretty serious with one of them. Like... really serious. Serious enough that we might have to stop hanging out as much." Bam. Mic drop. 
That was a lie; a blatant one. Little did he know, you had been dating casually, but doing so completely uninterested. No one had matched your silver speedster; not in sex, not in personality, not in anything. He had zipped his way into your heart and wasn’t leaving. You weren’t about to let him know that though, and decided to dig a little deeper with the teasing. He was cute when he was jealous… which he was. You knew it. 
Instead of confessing everything right then and there, Peter stiffened and mirrored your position; arms crossed over his muscled chest. He shook his head and shrugged. Cool as cucumber. No way were you winning this one. 
You smirked again, this time, raising a single brow. "Are you... jealous, Maximoff?" 
"Pffffbfbbtbt." Peter blew air through his lips, slicing his hand through the air like he was swatting a fly away. "Totally not jealous." 
"Good, because if you were, you'd hate to hear that Tommy and I went on the most adorable date the other night, and he was --" 
His hands flew up, waving slightly. "Woah, don't need to hear the deetz, babe. No thanks." 
"Oh no? I think you are jealous... I absolutely think you are, because..." 
Peter's fingers shushed you, smushing into the fullness of your pout. He didn't want to hear the (probably one-hundred percent correct) explanation that followed the 'because'. Your eyebrows flew up on your forehead, expectantly. You tried to speak through his finger, but he pressed harder. Peter screwed up his expression before rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. He huffed a breath, and looked back at you.
You yanked your face away, narrowing your eyes into knowing slits. You barked out a laugh, unable to control it. He had always been a terrible liar, but this took the cake. “Oh, you totally are. You are lime-green Jell-o, Peter.”
“I am not.” 
“Are too.” You jabbed your index finger into his pec. “You so are.” 
He huffed and dropped his arms. You weren’t budging, and if he kept up, you’d win. He knew it, you knew it. It was a good old-fashioned standoff. You cocked your hip out to the side. 
"Okay, so maybe I am jealous. Fine. Sure. Whatever. Now, c'mere."
Exhaling heavy over his bottom lip, Peter took hold of your face and pulled you into a warm kiss. The tips of his fingers stroked your hairline, urging you closer to him - as close as he could get you without melting into you. Surprised, your eyes widened into the kiss, but after a few seconds, you couldn’t help but melt into him. 
"Peter, Peter," you murmured into his lips, pushing away slightly to look over his face with a weighted gaze. "You're really jealous?" 
Saying nothing, he nodded heavily and went back to kissing you, his tongue slipping along your bottom lip before breaching. You whimpered into his lips, the vibration tickling slightly. Peter pressed his chin into yours, gently forcing you to scoot backwards on the bed. The kiss deepened for a moment before Peter broke it, his dark orbs scanning your face. 
“Yeah,” he whispered over your lips before urging your back against the mattress. “I am super jell-o…” He mocked. 
“Want you for myself. All for myself. Okay? Just… lemme’...” 
Peter nuzzled your neck, soft lips ghosting the skin and peppering kisses from your ear lobe down to your collarbone. Just above there, he began suckling the skin, pulling it into his mouth. He sucked harder and harder until you finally yelped, jerking your head away slightly. The skin left his mouth with a wet pop. 
"Ow! Peter, what are you doing?" 
"Markin' my territory.... err.... something." He pulled back to look at his handiwork. The skin where he'd been sucking was scarlet, heading to purple, and by that evening, it would be a wicked bruise.  A little gift for whoever you saw next, if it wasn't him.
He grinned as you rubbed at the skin, feeling the tenderness of it. “Did you just give me a hickey?” 
“Maaaybe.” 
“You dork,” you murmured. Peter crushed his lips against yours again, inhaling your scent. His hands trailed up your waist, gripping it hungrily. This is exactly what you’d thought about earlier; every time he touched you, it felt electric, and nobody had even come close to that sensation. You bucked your hips up into his, grinding against the tent in his sweatpants. Peter pressed back against you, hissing through his teeth at the sudden welcome friction. Beneath the fabric, you felt the heat and pressure of his hardening cock and whined. 
“What the heck d’ya want, babe? What am I doin’ wrong here? You want a romantic? You want a casanova?” 
“No,” you started, raking your nail along his t-shirt, the fabric catching underneath your nail and exposing his luscious neck just a little bit. “I  just want you, Peter. Only you. No other guys matter, and I only… I only said that because you said it was casual, I didn’t want to seem desperate.”
“I dunno, I think I’m actin’ pretty desperate right now.” He rutted his hips against you, his cock bumping into your cloth-covered cunt again. You bit your lip, rolling your eyes back. Every whimper, moan and mewl you made coursed through his veins, straight to his dick. They made it ache, and burn, and he couldn’t help but roll his hips against yours, dry-humping you urgently. 
“Fuck me, Peter.” 
Just what he wanted to hear. He nodded in response and brought his fingers to the waistband of your pajama pants, slipping inside. He drug his middle finger up along your folds, smearing your precum over the warm flesh. You were already so wet, Peter grit his teeth, slipping a single digit inside. You vocalized at the sensation, and he slipped another finger in, pumping them in and out slowly. You loved when he did that; just felt you, played with you like a little sex toy. 
His nimble fingers slipped out, and began toying with your cunt, making tiny, quick circles on your swollen clit. The muscles of your thighs quivered hard and deep with every pass of the pad of his finger. He always knew how to make you writhe around, practically shivering with pleasure. You felt the wetness pooling underneath your ass and whimpered, shyly. You always got so wet around him, almost to the point of embarrassment. Peter never made fun, though; if anything, he was always delighted by it, and loved to feel it soaking through the fabric of your cute, little patterned panties. 
As he flicked at your sensitive spots, your lids drooped shut, thinking about how good he was going to feel. It pressed against your hip, hard and demanding, like it was searching for somewhere to go. You couldn’t wait anymore. 
“Gimmie that cock,” you whispered against his ear before nipping at his lobe. Higher than he wanted to, he whined and withdrew his fingers, planting them on your hip bone. 
“Mm’yeah…. gonna’ give it to you,” he nodded, breathless. “‘Cause you want it bad, right?” 
“Yeah, I do. The only one I want.”
Wasting no time, Peter freed his throbbing dick from his sweatpants. It bounced heavily in front of you, the searing hot tip pressing against your tummy. Biting your lip, you took it in your hand, giving it a few generous pumps. You then pushed his cock between your legs, lining it up with your slit and forcing the tip in for him. The action sent a shockwave through his body; he jerked up and groaned. “Fuuuuck…” 
Peter threw your legs over his shoulders, angling your body up. 
“C’mon, give it to me…” 
He clenched his teeth and bottomed out, slamming the lower half of his toned body into yours. It filled you, stretching your walls and pressing against them in the most erotic, tantalizing way. He found a rhythm quickly, and made sure to keep it, his balls slapping against your ass as he thrust into you. You threw your head back and let out a breathy moan, pressing your head into the pillow. You swallowed, wetting your throat and looked back up at him. 
Above you, Peter was extra-whiny today. Sweat collected on his forehead, beading up before ribboning down his temples. His silver hair stuck together in clumps, and when he looked from your pussy to your eyes, he smiled weakly. He was fucking you hard, harder than he usually did and you could only assume it was because he was taking out his aggression, his jealousy.
“Oooh, yeah, just like that, baby… Just like that. You’re so… you’re so jealous.” Your words were punctured by lewd moans and breaths, but you finally got out the teasing statement. Then, Peter did something he didn’t usually do. He gripped your shoulders and pulled you onto his cock over and over again, relentlessly, bucking his hips up to meet yours with every thrust. The tip of his cock hammered your cervix, hitting your deepest parts. Your jaw dropped, brows peaking together as he fucked you. 
“....oh….oh my fuckin’....” 
“....shit-shit-shit, Peter…” 
Your pussy clenched around his cock, and you couldn’t control it. She fluttered, coating his dick in warmth. Peter groaned, closer than ever. 
“You should… you should be –” You moaned, digging your nails into his shoulders. “...be jealous more often.” 
That did it. Peter lost it, spurting his white heat  inside of you, pumping it deep. A melody of groans between the both of you filled the room, as the thrusts slowed and the sweat dripped. He collapsed on top of you, kissing every inch of bare skin that he could find. 
After a few moments, he snapped up, hands on either side of your head. He looked down at you with a quirked brow, and a mischievous smile. You grinned back at him, lust-blown and giddy. You loved these afternoons, where you just fucked each other like teenagers. 
“Wanna’ play some video games? Or did you have another lame-o date planned?” 
You sniggered. “The only lame-o I’m dating is you.”
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barcaatthemoon · 3 months ago
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make a move || fridolina rolfo x reader ||
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frido's teammates convince her to make the first move with you.
mapi snickered as she watched frido watching you. it couldn't have been a mistake that you almost always found yourself near their bench whenever you came to report on their games. you had always loved the sport, and barcelona was your favorite team. it was why you had initially jumped at every opportunity to report on the women's team. you still loved the game, but admittedly, you also had developed quite a crush on a certain swedish player.
"what is so funny?" alexia asked as she glanced at her friend. mapi pointed at frido, who was staring at you like she was head over heels. the two of you had spoken several times over the course of her time in spain, and the whole team had caught onto her feelings for you. "she's wearing that dress frido likes."
"trust me, she definitely noticed. isn't that right fridolina?" mapi teased. frido reluctantly tore her eyes away from you to glare at mapi. "(y/n) looks good in that dress. it does wonders for her ass."
"careful, frido can fight," ingrid warned. mapi didn't listen and continued to tease, earning herself a water bottle thrown her way. their antics continued throughout the end of the game, just a small distraction that you could see from the corner of your eye as you reported on the end of the game. the team began to file onto the field to celebrate, which was when you took your opportunity to speak with frido.
"excuse me, miss rolfo, do you have a moment to talk about the game?" you asked. frido let out a small sigh as she heard mapi and alexia laughing behind her.
"for you, i have as many as you need," frido said. you blushed at her words. years of media training had never stood a chance against the charming swedish woman. every single time that you interviewed frido, you felt like a bumbling idiot. some of your co-workers had noticed this, but the players that you interviewed liked you quite a bit and always let you interview them no matter what, so nobody said anything.
"thank you. congratulations on the win and successful header in the corner. i know that it's definitely my contender for goal of the match. what was going through your head today?"
"we're coming in as champions, and this first game is just a taste of what's to come for the rest of the season. everybody has been working hard, and we all just wanted to show that today," frido answered. the two of you continued your interview, and once it was finished, you reluctantly let her go and found more players to speak with. after about 30 minutes, you were finished with post-game interviews and your crew began to pack up their things.
"go on, they're getting ready to leave. this is your chance," ingrid said as she pushed frido towards you. the blonde felt like a baby deer as she tried to walk casually over towards you. luckily for her pride, your back was turned as you chatted with a young fan.
"ahem, excuse me, do you have a minute?" frido asked as she noticed your conversation come to an end. you stood up and looked at her, more than a little surprise she came over to talk after the cameras were done rolling.
"i guess i could find a few for you." you were definitely flirting with her, but were doubtful that it would amount to anything. flirting with frido was nothing new for you, and it always ended up the same way. you never went on any dates or saw each other outside of the football stadiums.
"good, i was hoping that maybe after this we could meet somewhere. i don't know if you have much work to do after this, but tonight, the girls will all be out at a bar. maybe i could get your number and let you know which one? i bet you could get some pretty interesting quotes." frido was trying very hard, and you appreciated the obvious effort.
"i would like that a lot." you scribbled your number on the back of one of your business cards. "the ones on the front are for the channel, but my personal one is on the back. feel free to call or text me for other things, i hear that i'm great dinner company."
"well, i can't drink on an empty stomach. does 7 sound okay?" frido asked. she felt like her lungs couldn't quite pull in enough air, but you were smiling at her, so she must have been doing something right.
"perfect, i look forward to dinner and a few drinks. it's a date," you said. frido swallowed nervously as she nodded, and she swore she was going to pass out when you leaned in and kissed her cheek.
"you know, it isn't too late for us to just turn around and go somewhere else," frido offered as the two of you turned down the street the bar was on. your dinner date had been nice. in terms of first dates, it was one of the best ones you'd been on. the restaurant was nice, frido was great company, and everything was just casual enough to keep you out of your own head.
"that sounds nice, but i'm kind of excited to see what everybody is like off of the field. and don't worry, i'm not going to be collecting any quotes," you told her. frido sighed and pouted at you, which nearly did get you to agree to go somewhere else, but one of her teammates spotted the two of you.
"about fucking time! do you know how long we've been waiting for you to get over here?" you had met claudia a couple of times before, mostly from your coverage from the barcelona b-team games. she had always been one of your favorites to interview, despite how difficult it could be to get to actually answer your questions.
"oh good, they're waiting for us," frido grumbled. you rolled your eyes as you grabbed frido's hand and led her into the bar. the patrons were mostly the players, and they all turned their heads to look at you when you walked inside. frido was quick to pick out a spot with some of the quieter girls and led you over to join her. "what can i get you to drink?"
"a manhattan if they have it. if not, just a shot of vodka," you told her. frido looked surprised by your choices, but didn't say anything. you had been a bit of a partier at university, so you knew that you could handle anything. the drink thing was also a good test of your dates because the last thing you wanted was someone who was overly judgemental.
frido left and came back just a couple moments later with your manhattan. she had something clear for herself that she took a sip of as she slid in next to you. it was a bit awkwardly cramped until you moved her arm around your shoulders. the two of you sat there with two of her teammates, marta and caroline, who were more than happy to sit out some of the more rambunctious activities of the night.
"do you dance?" you asked as you noticed more of the team move onto the dance floor.
"not really, no. you can go if you'd like to though," frido answered. she started to move out of the booth, but you held onto her to keep her next to you.
"no, it's fine. i'm having fun like this. i'm a little too sober to dance by myself."
"do you have to go all the way to madrid?" frido whined. you had your bags packed for your weekend in madrid. the weekend was full of games for both the women's and men's leagues, and your boss wanted you at all of them. it was a big step, and while it was a lot of work, you were more than ready for it.
"yes, i do, and while i would love to stay and enjoy your bye week with you, i have to go. don't miss me too much, okay? i have to go, my cab will be here any minute," you said. frido grumbled, but sat up to give you a proper goodbye hug and kiss anyway.
the two of you were a few months into your relationship and it felt unreal. you loved frido, you were sure of it, even if you hadn't said it yet. you hoped that frido loved you too, and a part of you knew that you wouldn't feel this way if she didn't. everything was too strong to just be coming from one direction.
"text me before you get on the plane and when you land. then, if you feel up to it, give me a call at the hotel? this feels like an awful long time to be away from you." frido cupped your cheeks in her hands and leaned down to kiss you. without your heels, you felt so small next to her. you had never really realized how much of an edge those gave you when standing around athletes all day.
"i will, i promise. see you monday night, love you," you said as you stepped out of frido's apartment. you hadn't even realized what you said until you were in the car and riding towards the airport. you were terrified to look at your phone, but when you did, you couldn't stop smiling from frido's message.
*'i love you too <3'
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sebscore · 2 years ago
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gen z!reader is this sweet, bubbly, bright ray of sunshine who could honestly do no wrong, so I'd love to see a fic where in a driver's meeting gen z!reader loses their shit and calls out the FIA for their blatant sexism and misogyny in front of everyone and everyone is shocked cause they've never seen them gets this mad before.
NO ONE LIKES A MAD WOMAN
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pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (+ cameos from brundle, susie and buxton) 
warnings: sexism. fia is fia'ing. swearing. my own unaccurate ruling of penalties (it's for the sake of the story, just go along with it). susie mothering. it wasn't sure to me who conducted the driver's briefing during this time so I just picked a random name from the many that I came across. 
author's note: less comedic one this time, hope you enjoy it anyway! 
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''Alright, thanks for clarifying, Checo.'' Derek concluded, glancing down at his journal to see what the next topic of discussion was. 
The director scratched his voice before addressing the drivers again. ''Uhm, we also wanted to remind everyone to be wary of what they say in the media regarding our organization,'' he stated, ''the FIA has the feeling that there have been deliberate attacks on them the last few weeks and they are willing to give out penalties if it happens again.'' 
The drivers looked at each other, confused by the sudden declaration that the FIA has been receiving ''attacks'' from the drivers. ''Can you give an example, because I think I speak for everyone when I say that I'm confused.'' George spoke up, the others nodding along to his question. 
Derek flipped through his papers, trying to find the notes his colleagues had given him regarding the ''offensive'' comments that had been made against them. 
''Oh, here,'' he put on his reading glasses, holding the piece of paper farther from his face, ''the comment they're referring to was one made by… Y/N at the previous race.'' 
The young woman's head sprung up at the mention of her name, clueless as to how she could have upset the FIA. ''What? W-what did I say?'' She managed to stutter out, all the eyes on her making her feel uneasy. 
''Uh, you were asked about the diversity in the sport and you said, and I quote: 'The FIA should do more regarding women in motorsport, there are still many things that need to be changed.' End quote.'' Derek answered her, putting his paper back in place. 
Y/N frowned at the man. ''I don't see what's wrong with that, to be honest.'' She told him, failing to see how the FIA would feel this was a ''deliberate attack''. 
The director sighed, already getting the suspicion the woman would not be happy with what he was about to say. ''Certain members of the board were offended by your words, because they saw it as you accusing them of being sexist.'' 
The silence in the room was deafening, every single person awaiting Y/N's reaction to Derek's clarification. The drivers took a glimpse at her, trying to read the indifferent expression on her face that didn't give much away about how she was feeling. 
''They think I'm accusing them of being sexist? What I meant was that they should take more actions in encouraging young girls to get into racing- I don't understand how that would correlate to me calling them sexist.'' Her usual cheerful tone was replaced by a monotone voice that almost scared some of her colleagues. 
Derek took a deep breath again. ''Well, they felt like you were insinuating it and they are offended by the alleged insinuation.'' 
''Just because they are offended doesn't mean they're right.'' She bit back, not missing a beat. 
''I'm simply delivering their message, Y/N,'' the director told her politely, wanting to remind her that he's not the person she should be upset with, ''anyway- if you go up there and apologize for your comment, they're considering leaving it as a warning for you and also the others.'' He finished the list of notes they had given him. 
The reaction from the room wasn't one he was expecting; absolute outrage. 
''She shouldn't apologize for that neither should she be penalized for it.'' Sebastian was the first one to speak up, directly looking Derek in the eye. 
The drivers agreed. ''Yeah, it's called freedom of speech.'' Max added, also not seeing why Y/N should go down there and say sorry to the members of the board. 
''Like I said earlier, I'm simply delivering their message.'' Derek repeated himself, feeling the tension and frustration growing in the small space. 
''But don't you see how ridiculous this is?'' Sebastian rebutted, hoping the man at the front could at least agree with them and say that it was indeed a weird request. 
Derek shook his head. ''I'm just the middle man, Seb,'' he sighed, turning his head towards the quiet female driver, ''Y/N, make it easier for yourself and go up there after the meeting, you don't want to receive a penalty for something like this.'' 
''I'm not apologizing.'' Her voice comes out strong, not in an aggressive way, but in a manner that lets everyone know she's not backing down. ''Give me as many penalties as you want, I'm not accepting them.'' She crossed her arms, indicating she was sticking to her words, almost stubbornly. 
The other drivers looked on proudly, glad she was standing by her belief and didn't give in simply because it would make everything ''easier''. Lewis gave her a nod, subtly letting her know he supported her and had her back. 
''Alright, then that will result in a fine of a number that is yet to be determined.'' Derek picked up his pen and wrote down that she would not come by their office, already knowing his colleagues wouldn't be happy with it. 
''Just so you know- I'm not paying that.'' Y/N said, matter-of-factly. 
Derek looked up from his journal. ''If you refuse to pay the fine, we can either add a grid-place penalty or a time penalty.'' He recited the rule as if he had done it a million times before. 
''Derek, this is stupid,'' Kimi decided to voice his opinion, ''the race shouldn't be affected, because of a comment she made that had nothing to do with racing in the first place.'' He defended her, allying behind her stance to not accept any of the penalties they give her. 
''I'm just doing my job, Kimi.'' 
''I also want to just do my job, Derek, which is racing, but these ridiculous rules to silence me prevent me from doing that.'' Y/N argued his response, just wanting him to see her point of view. 
The director's hand went over his face, seemingly wiping his agitation away. ''No one is trying to silence you, Y/N.'' He quickly answered. 
''That's why all the other drivers receive penalties whenever they question the FIA, right?'' Her comment must have shut him up as he solely put his pen down without saying another word about the matter. ''Yeah, that's what I thought.'' 
Y/N felt her presence wasn't longer necessary as she stood up from her chair, ready to leave the room and join her engineering team in preparation for the upcoming race. However, Derek felt different about that. ''The briefing isn't over yet, Y/L. Sit back down, please.'' 
''I'll see you at the next meeting, Derek.'' She ignored his plea and walked towards the door. 
The director stood up from his desk at the front. ''Y/N, if you leave before it's done, the board will-'' 
''The board can kiss my ass.'' 
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''Y/N Y/L RECEIVES A 20-PLACE GRID PENALTY AHEAD OF THE 2021 SPANISH GRAND PRIX DUE TO DAMAGING REMARKS AGAINST THE FIA'' 
''FIA RE-EVALUATING Y/N Y/N's PENALTY AFTER BACKLASH'' 
''FIA SUSPENDS GRID PENALTY OF Y/N Y/L DUE TO AN ERROR'' 
The day after the driver's briefing had been quite eventful to say the least. As soon as the FIA announced that she had been given a penalty, the backlash from drivers, fans and reporters started. 
Lewis had condemned their decision claiming it was based on nothing and that nothing about her comment was an attack on the organization. His teammate, Valtteri, followed him in his opinion stating: ''Drivers should be able to say what they want to say, she doesn't deserve a penalty for that.'' 
Sky Sports F1 reporter, Martin Brundle, also came to the driver's defense. ''If we're going to punish drivers for stating their opinions, we might as well get rid of the entire sport, especially if what they're saying isn't far from the truth.'' 
After finishing P5 in the race, Y/N spoke to Will Buxton in her post-race interview. ''You must be very happy with your result today, considering you almost had to start from the very back of the grid.'' 
''I'm content with today's race, obviously would have loved a podium but Mercedes was better today,'' she chuckled, ''yeah, it wasn't fun waking up to that news, but I'm happy that it was reversed and the support I received was just- wow, I'm very grateful for everyone.'' 
''According to some sources, it got pretty heated in the driver's briefing on friday- would you like to clarify?'' Will asked her. 
A sarcastic laugh left her mouth. ''I would just like to forget about it, moving on is the best thing to do right now.'' She smoothly avoided the question, figuring she shouldn't make the FIA more mad by airing out all their business. 
''Alright, thank you so much for talking to us, Y/N and congratulations on your race today.'' He nodded, bidding her goodbye. 
On her way back to her team's hospitality, she was stopped by none other than Susie Wolff. ''Lewis told us what happened during the briefing- I'm very proud of you for standing up for yourself, not everyone could have done that.'' 
''It was so awful, Susie,'' Y/N hugged the older woman, ''it's like they just wanted to give me some sort of punishment- I don't even want to know what would have happened if I went down there by myself.'' Susie rubs her back at her words, also not wanting to think about what could have gone down. 
''It's okay now, honey,'' they pulled apart, Susie's hand staying on her shoulder, ''by the way- did you really say that the board could kiss your ass?'' 
Y/N laughed at her question, excitedly nodding her head. ''At first I wanted to say something like 'the board can stick that penalty right up their ass’ but I needed a cool getaway so I opted for something shorter.'' 
''Atta girl'' 
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hellishjoel · 1 month ago
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ungodly and unprofessional
5.6k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader
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Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog
summary: who said anything about falling in love? you're just co-workers. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), smoking, descriptions of food and drink, reader is described to have hair (not descriptive of what color/length/etc.) and wears a waitress uniform, explicit smut, consensual somnophilia, swearing, pet names, allusions to bad parenting/parental abuse, descriptions of a parent abusing drugs and alcohol (please heed these warnings and do not read if you are concerned these may be triggers), lastly not beta'd (lmk if you're interested!) A/N: five or six months later, who really knows. believe it or not, I was never not working on this or thinking about it for all of those months... which is crazy. I completely wing these chapters which is probably why it takes so long but you guys don't mind, right? enjoy these cuties falling deeper <3 I almost forgot - shoutout to BistroHuddy on TikTok because one of their segments inspired something in here (but no spoilers!)
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“To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy-Ray Belcourt. 
You have this silly poetry book someone gave you as a birthday present or holiday gift exchange a few years ago. You’ve never picked it up until now. You’re shocked to say all of these cheesy love quotes and poems make you think of one very specific person: a guy with dark curls, a scruffy beard, amber eyes, and the perfect smile. Francisco. 
Falling for a man like Frankie feels like growing up— a sign of maturing compared to the ghosts of terrible boyfriend's past. 
Come to find out, it’s easier to go for the wrong guys, easier on your heart in a way — you don’t feel like you are actually losing anything. 
That’s why you would bet on losing dogs. Invest your emotions and need for romance in those who don’t reciprocate. The ones who despise commitment or lack emotional availability leave you in a state of disappointment. 
Better that than full-blown heartache. Better than ripping yourself open at the seams for another, only to be the one to sew yourself back up again. But not better than winning. 
The letter Frankie’s father sent him weeks ago had been burned into your brain. Every single word, each break of a new paragraph, lines of apologies, and convincing stories of ‘the good times’ they used to have. 
Frankie appeared to be just as wary about the letter as you were, neither of you so easily trusting. Frankie didn’t trust his father, but you did trust Frankie—end of story. 
You’ve never known Frankie to be so tightly closed about something that bothers him. He was the type of man who wears his heart on his sleeve, an open book. 
Aside from allowing you to read the letter, you two have barely spoken about it. And not due to your lack of trying. 
There wasn’t a need for you to bring clarity to the situation, it wasn’t up to you to encourage Frankie to allow his father back into his life. But there was still a lot of emotional trauma that he carried that he didn’t have to bear alone. You just wanted him to know that you support him in whatever avenue he decides is best. 
To forgive or to forget. 
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Frankie releases a sigh from his parted lips, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as your alarm chimes from your phone on the bedside table. He hates the fucking morning shift. 
The air is sticky and thick, and the fan on his bedroom ceiling is doing little to help. Late August is still taking its toll on Texas and its residents, but he’s reminded that this time last year, he sunk down on his knees in the back kitchen and tasted you on his tongue for the first time. Can’t believe it’s been a year since then. Plus all the events that have transpired since. 
There’s no label between you two other than the fact you are exclusive— putting your focus on each other and not seeing other people. It was good, better than nothing with you. 
His eyelashes finally flutter open, seeing you shift in the dark to turn off the alarm, only to dig your face deep into your pillow. He thinks you’re fucking adorable. 
Frankie is by no means a morning person, but waking up beside you has changed his perspective. Your hair is a scattered mess, the ponytail having fallen loose in the tosses and turns of last night. The sunlight peaking through the blinds highlights the slope of your nose and Cupid’s bow. Arms tucked into your front, leg hiked up like a ballerina.
His mind starts to swirl at the conversation you shared recently, that you wanted to try something… new. To be surprised. To be taken by him in your sleep. 
He was shocked to hear you say it, all shy and meek - it’s not a side of you he sees often. But it’s the vulnerability talking, advocating the trust you share together. 
“I want to wake up with you inside me.”
Frankie had to blink a few times, his large hand cradling your jaw as you spoke in whispers between the sheets. “You— I didn’t know you’d be into that sort of thing.”
“We don’t have to if it’s not your thing. But there’s something about you moving me where you want me to be, being completely under your control, even a little helpless,” you pause, uncertain if your words would scare him off. 
The exact opposite. Frankie was intrigued. 
“The thrill of trying not to wake you up.” He continues, watching your glowing smile return, indicating that Frankie understands why this would feel good to you. 
“My natural reaction, trusting you, knowing that you’ll be careful, knowing that you’re using me— it’s hot, Frankie. You have my consent, I wanna try.” 
Frankie’s stomach churns with excitement, butterflies spreading through his abdomen and up to his chest, his heart thunking eagerly. 
He was slow and methodical, not wanting you to stir from your sleepy state. Nipping at his lower lip, teeth piercing the skin, he works up the courage to touch you. A rough and calloused hand travels up your side, pushing up your sleep tee and watching goosebumps line the tips of his fingers.
Frankie presses slow kisses to the top of your shoulder, feeling his cock swell against the plump of your ass in all of the excitement. He whispers your name, soft and raspy with the morning hour. Other than a small twitch of your nose, you’re out cold. 
“Shh, s’okay angel, m’gonna make you feel good.” The desire stirs in his stomach, urging him to please you in your sleep just like you asked. 
With two crooked fingers, he curls them around the band of your panties and slowly drags them down your soft thighs. You let out a slow sigh between your parted lips, Frankie pausing to watch as you settle once more. 
 Slipping two skilled fingers between your legs, he slowly massages up and down your folds. He’s surprised to already feel the slick between your legs, a low groan of approval leaving the depths of his throat. 
There’s a shift, your hips squirming for more of his touch. You’re so perfectly pliant for him, causing the embers low in his belly to grow with anticipation, the blood rushing to his cock as it hardens against the curve of your ass. 
“Good girl,” he remarks as you let out a little whimper upon the pads of Frankie’s fingers finding your swollen clit. “Even asleep, you’re nice and wet for me, princess.” 
Goddammit, he thinks, how does she have this much of an effect while perfectly asleep? He can’t stand the feeling of not touching her, the carnal need to take her was strong like a magnet, forcing their bodies together. 
One yank and he was out of his briefs, chewing on his lower lip in concentration. He needed to move you, to perfectly fit in the nook of your body, you’d have to be good and yield to him. 
Frankie hikes up your leg and fills in the spaces between your bodies, stroking over himself as he slowly lines his leaking tip along your entrance. Just as he notches his tip inside, a quiet and sleepy gasp leaves your perfect pillowy lips. 
“Right there, baby, you just stay right there for me,” Frankie growls against your ear, his hips flush with yours as he slowly lets inch by inch of him be swallowed by your warm cunt. 
After that, there wasn’t a lot of nicety to him. The level of control he carried was lost. He just wanted to take and take, feel and fuck. He wants to use you like his own personal toy; do whatever he pleases with no resistance. You were his to devour. 
He’s still inside you, but he’s gotten this far, and you’re still out. Even in sleep, you’re pulsing around his cock, so fucking tight around him that it steals the air from his lungs. There’s a hint of discomfort in your face, a quiet gasp held within your expression. 
“Fuck,” he grunts, the hand he holds firmly on your hip now moving under your sleep tee. 
You were so fucking accessible to him, so beautiful, so peaceful being fucked raw. 
He rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, getting the reaction he’s been waiting for all morning. A sweet, slow moan tumbles loose from your throat, your hips reeling back to grind against Frankie’s lap. 
He’s somewhat pleased he knows you this well, knows what gets you worked up and gushing. The fact that even in your sleep, you have this reaction towards him makes the fire burning inside his abdomen grow. Maybe a deep part of him gets off on knowing you so well. 
Frankie lets out a sigh at his own thoughts, lightly nipping the skin of your exposed shoulder as he slowly rolls his hips back and glides in again, feeling the drag of your tight pussy keeping him lubed up and warm.
If he weren’t so desperate to fuck you, he’d love to just sit inside you like this all goddamn day. It would probably give him the same comfort as the first cup of coffee. 
He gives your breast one more firm squeeze before returning the attention back to your clit, all desperate and tingling with each eager circle he gives you. 
“So fucking perfect,” he whispers against your ear, his hips continuing at a steady pace until he simply needs more. He hikes up your leg once again to allow himself more movement, smirking as your ass smacks against the front of his hips with each thrust that now jostles your body. 
You’ll surely wake any moment, shocked and sleepy and startled at his cock so deep inside your perfectly spent cunt. 
You whimper each time he fills you, your face digging into the pillow as you moan against the cover. Frankie’s efforts grow needy and demanding, fisting your hair out of his way as he sucks marks into your neck; teeth and tongue massaging the skin before leaving a bruise in its wake.
A sweet little sob exits your parted lips, Frankie groaning at the pretty little noises you make. 
“Take me so well, princess. You want me to keep fuckin’ you, huh?” He snarls against your neck, smirking as you hiss at the sensations you’re feeling all throughout your body.  
Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. They absorb the settings around you and it all clicks. A long, desperate moan crawls from the depths of your throat, your movements sluggish but your hand eventually clasps onto Frankie’s forearm, his fingers still swirling around your clit. 
“Ohmy— Frankie, fuck,” you gasp as you feel the full force of his cock drilling deep inside your pussy. Your voice is still thick with sleep, eyes cloudy with lust, and skin-prickling sensations that you had never felt before; a million emotions, but the standout being desperation to come undone like this with a man you trust. 
“This what you wanted, angel? Wake up with my cock stuffed between your legs?” Frankie smirks as he presses his lips against your cheek, jaw dropping against your own as you ride out the high together. 
You cry out something wrecked, a garble of syllables as your spine arches against his front. You weren’t given the pleasure of feeling the orgasm build and build; you woke up at its high heat. 
In an instant, your skin was clammy, hair sticking to your skin as desperate pants filled the room, along with broken moans of Frankie’s name. 
It’s exactly what you wanted, maybe better. Yes, way better. 
You’re so tight, literally clinging to every single inch he gives you as your slick drenches his cock. Your nails dig into his tan skin, feeling the muscles and tendons work to play with your clit. 
A whimper leaves you as the warmth in your stomach boils over, turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are dark, cast over with lust as he stole you in your sleep. In an instant, he meets you with a messy kiss, your bodies and the bed still jolting with each rough thrust he gives you. 
“Please,” you moan against his lips, nodding your head as you look into his eyes. “Come inside me, I wanna feel it, please, give it to me, Frankie,” your words turn into a whine as he begins to fuck you harder, deeper, his tip tickling your cervix as you damn near blackout from the pleasure. 
The pleasure inside of you finally reaches the surface. The feeling was like a wave breaching over your rocky shores, washing over you both in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his thick cock. 
Frankie spoils your clit as his hips snap against your ass, one, two, three more times before the feeling of you overcomes him. He braces you tightly in his arms, panting against your shoulder, eyes clenching closed as he lets out broken grunts of release. He paints your insides with his spend, both of you relaxing in one another’s hold as you slowly descend from heaven. 
“Jesus Christ,” Frankie breathes, shaking his head with a tilted smirk. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He remarks as you look over your shoulder in a haze. 
You whimper as you pull him in closer, fingers weaving into the curls at the back of his head and encouraging him to meet your parted lips. 
The words are at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel them spread heat throughout your body. You can hear both of your hearts beating, thundering against the human flesh, and signaling the feeling of being alive. 
Frankie waits for the words. The feeling of anticipation has been lingering for quite some time. Your touch of nervousness was welcome, expected even. A moment in time when your heart feels exposed but also overwhelmingly full. Only hoping that the other person feels the same way, yet uncertain of how they will respond. A game of chicken of who will say it first and who will have to respond. The leap of faith one will be forced to make and the right words the other will have to find.
Both roles are downright frightening. 
You’re risking everything, the biggest gamble one can make without physical currency. 
But he sees the panic behind your eyes, the nervewracking feeling of saying the sacred words to someone, maybe even for the first time. And he knows that they will be worth it to hear. 
“I know,” he whispers against your lips, shaking his head in a way that tells you he knows what you’re thinking. “I know.” 
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You don’t attend church, so you have one question: why the fuck is God sending people to get brunch after Sunday’s service? Why is that their beck and call? 
Every Sunday morning, like clockwork, a flock of people flood the diner with their church clothes and a hankering for waffles and Frankie’s house lumberjack skillet (you wanna know what’s in it, don’t you?)
Frankie’s Secret Ingredients:
Potatoes: 1/4 lb (about 4-5 small potatoes)
Olive Oil: 1/2 tablespoon
Breakfast Sausage Links: 3 oz (about 4 links)
Onion: 1/8 of a whole onion, chopped
Red Pepper: 1/4 of a whole red pepper, chopped
Jalapenos: 1/2 jalapeno, sliced (omit if person looks too old to handle)
Butter: 1 tablespoon
Hickory Maple Seasoning: 1/2 teaspoon
Eggs: 2 large eggs
Milk: 1 tablespoon
Cheddar Cheese: 2 tablespoons, shredded
Anyway, Tommy’s Diner is slammed by mid-morning, and you’re working up a sweat. You’re wiping at your neck and forehead every few minutes, and the sun filtering through the windows does little justice to cool your skin. Tina called out sick, which is code for hungover from Saturday. It’s overwhelming. Your brain feels like the scrambled eggs you just plated for that family of four.
“Enjoy,” you whisper a little breathlessly, tucking your notepad into the front of your apron, rubbing at your temple with the heel of your hand as you walk past the rest of your tables. 
By the time you lift your head, you see a large potbelly man who is waving an arm up above his head, fingers already snapping incessantly. He looked like a chubby rat, with a large dark-haired mustache and a shirt that didn’t fully cover the beer gut he was sporting.
“Uhm, hello? Miss, can we get some service over here?” 
Jesus fucking Christ. Your jaw tightens a few notches, pushing your hair out of your face and wrapping around to their table. You remember them; you took their table’s order a bit ago now - shit, did you forget their plates? No, you didn’t. 
Stopping at the head of their table, you smile politely at the large family. 
“Hi, can I get you something while you wait?”
The man scoffs and snaps, “Uh, yeah, our food.”
Taking a deep breath wasn’t enough; you were a ticking time bomb. “Sir, do you see how many people are in the diner? We’re at capacity with a line out the door. I understand you’ve been waiting, but our kitchen is backed up and-” 
“Bull-honkey-bullcrap, little miss,” the man raises his voice, spitting violently with each syllable, “This is ridiculous! We’ve been sittin’ here for nearly an hour. How hard is it to make some eggs and Mickey Mouse pancakes, huh? You just that stupid? What the hell is goin’ on back there? Are you people completely incompetent, or are you just ignorin’ us?”
Worse things have been said to your face, but you’re at your breaking point. You can feel your face flush with warmth radiating throughout your body. Now, the entire diner is staring at you from all the commotion. Your lungs feel tight, a headache casting heavy behind your face. Tears line your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. 
“Again, I’m really sorry, but like I said, the kitchen is backed up.” But apologizing isn’t enough. This guy just wanted someone to take his punches. 
“Don’t even try to apologize. I don’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses. How hard is it to cook some damn eggs? This place is a joke. You must be the worst server I’ve ever dealt with. ‘Nd I swear, if I wanted this kind of useless service, I’d go to a fast food joint. Is this how you treat payin’ customers, or ya’ll just this lazy? Do your job, or I’ll make sure everyone knows how worthless you and this diner is.”
You clutch the empty coffee pot tightly, biting your tongue. Turning swiftly, you head straight for the back swinging door. You don't intend to contribute to the chaos or the bustling mess in the kitchen, but here, in the safety of the back section, you allow a few stray tears to escape.
Shoulder blades hitting the cold brick, you wish to blend into the wall. It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you, your chest heavy and tight. Every sound around you blurs as the man’s harsh words replay in your mind, louder and louder each time. Your hands shake just enough to want to hide them behind your back, feeling afraid to have eyes on you in such a vulnerable state. Exposed. You’ve absorbed the anger meant for something or someone else, so now, it sticks to you, something you can’t wash away. 
Your name echoes once, twice. 
“Hey,” A calm amongst the rushing waves - it’s Frankie. You blink him into focus, bleary tears slowly fading away. His red bandana is tied tight around his forehead to catch the sweat from his forehead and hair. His face is laced with concern. He wipes his hands off on his apron, gently capturing your face as he shields you from the rest of the kitchen. 
And just like that, life returns to your body. You can feel the tips of your fingers, previously tingling, wiping under your eyes as you hiccup through your breaths. Frankie knows this high-traffic area will only make your anxiety worse. 
“It’s okay, take a deep breath and tell me what happen.”
The eyes of the kitchen staff are slowly starting to turn to you, asking if you’re alright and why you’re upset. Shaking your head dismissively, you blink away your tears and look down at the grubby floor that probably hasn’t been mopped since the invention of flip phones. 
“I’m fine. This customer just got pissed and yelled at me. He was upset that his food was running behind, and I tried to explain that the kitchen was backed up.” You part your lips to continue, but the jaw drops of the kitchen staff signal shock by your words. 
They all start honking in unison like a flock of geese. 
“He what?”
“Which fuckin’ table?”
“You okay, sweetheart? Fuck them.” 
Frankie's back straightens stiff, having previously been craning to see your face, now strict with annoyance. 
“Is that him?” Frankie asks as he walks to the window between the kitchen and the back counter, narrowing his eyes on the rat man and his family. 
“Frankie, please don't,” you huff, already refilling your pots of coffee and hoping to just forget the whole thing ever happened. "It's okay, it happens."
But it’s not okay. Because this guy made you cry, and what the hell was it for? Some scrambled eggs and bacon on delay?
The rest of the line cooks have abandoned their food to gawk at the asshole who thinks he can get away with yelling at one of their own like that. 
Frankie tightens his bandana and peels off his gloves, slapping them down in the trash. 
His boots thunder across the linoleum, catching the attention of many of the patrons on his way to the booth by the window where the rat man has continued to reside angrily. Even worse, he chuckles at the sight of Frankie. 
“Take a load of this guy," the rat man appears to mutter to his wife who looks between them both with startled eyes. "Okay, okay, just bring back the pretty waitress. I’ll tell her I’m sorry.” He sneers, shaking his head. 
“No, you’re done with her. You’re dealin’ with me now.” Frankie snags an empty chair from a nearby table, turns it around, and straddles the seat as he gets in the burly man's face. 
“I just feel terrible that we’re not meeting the quality of service you expected. So what exactly is the problem?” Frankie asks with a hint of venom lining his words. 
“Well- we’ve been waitin’ here for half an hour and-”
“Right, and what did the pretty waitress say?”
The man scoffs lightly, feeling embarrassed with all the eyes on him not once but twice now. “Well, she said the kitchen was backed up.”
“That’s right, that’s right, well, I’m the fuckin’ kitchen. You wanna yell at someone? Well, I thought I’d give you the chance to yell at me since, hey, I'm in charge of the kitchen today. Please, tell me your honest review.”
The rat man stares blankly, looking from left to right in surprise, but his family all gawks at Frankie. 
Frankie waits, eyes unblinking, face hardened as the man sputters up something weak in response. 
“This is ungodly and unprofessional,” he gargles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 
“You’re absolutely right!” Frankie says, smacking the table with his closed fist before pointing at the rat man, the tip of his finger inches from his face. “I am unprofessional, but that’s because I don’t have the great customer service skills of our waitresses. That’s her job,” Frankie juts a thumb backward towards the kitchen in your direction. “So now, instead of cookin’ you and your ugly wife and kids some food, I gotta come out here and knock some sense into ya since you seemed to have lost your manners. So you gonna let her do her job so I can get back to mine?”
You can only watch from the window in shock, hand over mouth, unblinking eyes - but it’s like a car crash you can’t look away from. The man is shocked into an embarrassed silence. 
“We’ll just… we’ll wait. There’s-uh-there’s a lotta people here.” 
Frankie sighs and smiles with fake relief. He stands from the chair, looking around the quiet restaurant. 
“Anybody else have somethin' they wanna say?”
They all seem too scared of Frankie to complain again to the psycho chef. Chants of ‘Everything’s great!’ or “Thank you!” echo through the dining room. 
You smile warmly, forcing yourself to turn away from the scene and clean up your teary makeup in the bathroom. But all you can think about is Frankie. Francisco. Stupid Catfish. Stepping in like that to protect you, to make that jerk take accountability. It makes your heart flutter knowing how much he cares. And you feel the same way.
It’s about time you tell him. 
Knuckles wrap against the bathroom door, and an echo of, “You okay?” follows. 
He comes in without a response, somewhat relieved to find you adjusting your hair and wiping at the smeary makeup. Your eyes soften at the sight of him, watching in the reflection. He looks disheveled and annoyed, shaking his head as he starts ranting about rat man. 
“I don’t get how people like that- the God-loving church people- come in here and act like they weren’t just told at a sermon to love thy neighbor or whatever bullshit.”
He continues, but all you do is stare.
A part of you thinks he defends others due to his childhood. No one picks on the people Frankie cares about. That letter riled him up, maybe more than either of you had realized. He’s thinking about those times of the past, the innocent hurt by the deviant. 
“You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry, he’s a fucking dick. You don’t have to take his food out, I’ll do it. Honey,” he breathes, hand resting on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. “Are you mad at me? I know you told me not to go out there, but no one makes you cry if I can help it, y’know? I don’t want him to think he can get away with that.”
Once Frankie starts ranting, it’s really hard to get him to stop. 
“Frankie,” you breathe out, resting your hand over the one he holds on your shoulder. 
“I mean, does he really think that it’s smart to be rude to the staff? I’ll spit in his food, and it will feel really good because he’ll have no idea.”
“Frankie,”
“You’re a good fucking waitress! Doesn’t he see the entire breakfast bar and all the booths filled with guests? The line out the door wasn’t an indication of how busy it is? Get a fuckin’ brain, I mean-”
In an instant, you tilt your chin up, catching his gaze just long enough to see the shift in his eyes before your lips meet. Your hands slide around his neck, fingers weaving into the soft curls at the nape, gently tugging him down toward you. The kiss begins with an urgency, part playful, part to silence his words, but mostly, it's to thank him in a way that words never could.
Frankie’s initial surprise fades quickly as he melts into you, his breath hitching for a moment. His hands travel to your waist, sliding around until they lock just above your hips, anchoring you to him. He presses closer, his touch firm yet tender, and slows the kiss, savoring the warmth of your lips. You feel the way his body relaxes, how he leans in, letting the world around you both fall away as he holds you, close and unmoving, like he’s never letting go.
It takes every ounce of courage in your body to pull away, your lips lingering against his for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if tethered by an invisible force. Slowly, you break the kiss, your breath shaky, heart racing. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his eyes still half-closed, unaware of the words hanging on the edge of your lips.
You gently pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still laced in his hair, trembling slightly. His eyes search yours, soft and expectant, filled with something unspoken but unmistakable.
With a deep inhale, you let the words slip out, vulnerable and raw, barely louder than a whisper, but heavy with meaning.
“I love you.”
The world stands still as the words hang in the air, your heart pounding as you wait for the weight of what you’ve just said to settle between you.
And then he smiles like an idiot. And you’re joining him. 
“Did you say what I think you said? Did you say that you love me?" His voice is soft, teasing, as he presses his forehead against yours, capturing your lips with a few playful, quick kisses between his words. “Come on, say it again.”
You feel your heart flutter, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Frankie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I heard you say it. Now you can’t take it back,” he adds with a grin, pulling you tighter, his arms leaving no space between you.
You giggle, your hands pushing lightly against his shoulders, though he doesn’t budge. “Stop, that was really hard,” you huff, breathless, as though the words had stolen all the air from your lungs.
Frankie just shakes his head, his smile fading into something softer, more real, as the weight of the moment catches up with him. “I’ve thought about better places or times to tell you this, I wanted to wait until you were ready,” he whispers, his voice hushed with disbelief, eyes locking onto yours, “but I love you more than you’ll ever know. More than you’ll ever understand or dream. I love you.”
His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone, a gentle, affectionate touch that sends shivers down your spine. The intensity in his gaze mirrors your own, both of you lost in this shared vulnerability, your hearts speaking in unison.
“I love you, too,” you breathe, the words falling effortlessly this time, as if they’ve always been waiting for this moment.
So, yeah. You sort of love your co-worker Francisco Morales. 
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The sun is blinding—orange and yellow streams of light as it is forced to set along the horizon. It’s slow but noticeable, sinking into the land beyond what you can see.
The sun goes down in Texas once again. 
Frankie raises his cigarette, its glowing tip mirroring the fiery hues of the sunset.
His neighborhood is tranquil, lined with single-story homes and tree-bordered streets where autumn's touch is just around the corner. Children ride bikes, joggers and dog walkers pass by, and new parents push their baby strollers—a picturesque scene that feels meticulously arranged yet somehow distant. Frankie, too, feels out of place here.
"You got pretty worked up today—more than usual," you say softly.
Frankie lets out a dry chuckle, cigarette between his lips as he leans back on his elbows, squinting at the fading sun. "Yeah, maybe. You think I’m off right now?" He tilts his head, genuinely curious, as if searching for what’s changed.
You shrug, glancing at him with a fond smile. "I think that letter from your dad has you more rattled than you realize. I found it in your sock drawer this morning."
Frankie’s gaze drops to his lap, a flicker of shame crossing his face.
"I thought you said you were gonna toss it?" you muse gently, watching as his mind churns, cigarette hovering at his lips before he sighs deeply.
"You’re too observant," he smirks. "I don’t know why I haven’t crumpled, burned, or shredded it into pieces by now. I have every right to."
You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing the tension there. "But you didn’t. Why?"
Frankie bites his lower lip nervously, glancing your way. "At the end of the apology letter, he asked to take me out for my birthday. Put down the time, place—everything. Said he’d wait for me."
Your expression softens, letting him know you’re here, really listening. "And you’re thinking about it?"
"Yeah… I guess so. But I don’t even know what I’d say. I’ve only seen him once or twice since I moved out. It’s been years. And when I do see him, I’m thirteen all over again, just yelling at him, so angry. I see his face, and it’s like a switch flips. And that’s not me. You know that’s not me," Frankie stammers, panic flickering in his eyes.
"I know," you whisper, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He pulls you closer, resting his head against yours as the weight of it all settles.
After a deep breath, Frankie gathers himself. "He used to bring out the worst in me. I don’t know if I still hate him as much. Time’s passed, maybe he’s changed. But I’m not holding my breath."
He’s an adult now, more guarded, wiser to the people who’ve hurt him. He’s fought through battles and traumas you don’t even know about. Yet, in his eyes, there’s a flicker of hope. Maybe his dad has turned a corner, maybe he’s cleaned up, seen his mistakes. But you know better than to trust in maybes.
And you’d protect him from being let down again.
"Do you want me to go with you?" you offer quietly.
Frankie’s eyes snap to yours, wide and searching.
"Okay," he says after a long pause. "Let’s do it."
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288 notes · View notes
vax-merstappen · 10 months ago
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secret keeper (op81)
summary: trying to keep your and oscar's relationship hidden from the public was not easy, especially when the one person you trusted not to say anything may have told the whole grid what was going on.
this definitely got more funny than cute lol but this was probably my favorite fic to write! hope you enjoy!
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You were walking through the paddock to meet up with the man who everyone knew as your best friend, Oscar Piastri. You had known each other for years, meeting when your brother had raced against him in a karting series. Though your brother had quit after only a few years of karting, you had grown close to Oscar and continued to hang out with him. When he got to Formula 1, you came to the races that you were able to in order to support your friend.
At least that's what the world thought. You and Oscar had been dating for 2 years before he started racing with McLaren. As a couple you mutually decided to keep your relationship as private as possible. Fans could get nasty and with Oscar's dream of making it to the pinnacle of motorsport, you knew that every single thing you did together would be analyzed if you were to go public. You liked your privacy and Oscar did too, so naturally it made sense to just be friends publicly.
Of course your families and close friends knew that you were dating. You had also informed the members of the team that needed to know, just so they could understand why you were always in the paddock. Outside of that, there were very few people that knew the situation.
So it was shocking to say the least when you passed by Pierre on the way to the McLaren hospitality one morning and he gave you a nod of recognition. "Ah, you're Oscar's friend!" he exclaimed, making air quotes as he said the word friend. He shook your hand and smiled.
"What is that supposed to mean?" you asked, wondering if he somehow knew you were dating Oscar.
Pierre looked embarrassed for a second. "Oh, um, I just meant that you guys seem too close to be just friends? You must be best friends to show up at all these races, he must see you like a sister?"
You cringed inwardly at being seen as Oscar's sister, but were ultimately relieved that Pierre did not know about your relationship. You wished Pierre luck on the race and continued towards the McLaren hospitality. Right before you could step inside, you saw Logan walking towards you.
He smiled before gesturing at you to follow him into the alley between the hospitality buildings. "You better treat him right," Logan said.
"Treat who right?" you asked, again scared that Logan knew about you dating Oscar.
"Oscar," he said and your heart skipped a beat. "If you're going to date him, you better do it right. If you break his heart, Alex and I will break you."
Your stomach dropped. "I, I how did you know?" you stammered.
"Oh, uh, lucky guess?" Logan shrugged awkwardly. "But, uh, don't mess with my boy." He walked away.
First Pierre acting weird and now Logan. Something was up and you needed to find Oscar to figure it out. You beelined into the hospitality to find where he could possibly be hiding. Checking all the rooms, you found that he was nowhere in sight. After asking around, you discovered that Oscar was scheduled to speak with the media at the press conference. You needed to find him before he got on that stage.
You walked as fast as you could without running towards where he was supposed to be. However, you looked to your right and saw yet another driver approaching you. Fernando Alonso himself rushed to your side.
"Hey congrats on the new boyfriend!" he said jokingly, before noticing the panicked expression on your face. "Is something wrong?" he asked.
"I need to find Oscar," you said. "Somehow all of you know about us and I don't know why and I'm scared."
Fernando looked you in the eyes. "Hey, it's alright, let's go find him together. He should be at the media stage right?"
You nodded and were relieved as Fernando began to lead you towards your boyfriend. "But seriously, how did you know?" you asked.
"Well I heard it from Carlos, but I don't know how he found out," he revealed. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine, Nando, just help me find Oscar."
You finally got to the stage and saw your boyfriend already being interviewed. Fernando gave you one last reassurance that everything would be okay before leaving you to go do his own press duties. You looked to the seat next to you and saw yet another driver.
"I think you make a great couple," George said, smiling at you. The his face dropped. "Oh, I wasn't supposed to talk about it. Shit."
"It's okay," you sighed. "I know that you know now. I just want to know how this happened."
"Well," George said, looking around before dropping into a whisper. "A certain driver may have slipped and said something about it to Alex who texted Logan, Charles, and I who may have said something to Lewis who actually kept his mouth shut but apparently Charles told Carlos, who told Checo and Nando, and Pierre, who told Esteban and Yuki. That same driver also told Daniel who let Max, Lance, and Nico in and then Nico told Kevin and Valtteri and then Valtteri told Zhou."
"How do you know all that?" you asked, amazed that George kept track of all of the gossip.
"The skill of gossiping comes with the job," he said. "But you didn't hear all this from me."
You nodded. There was nothing left to do now besides wait for your boyfriend to finish the conference. While he talked, you recalled a conversation you and Oscar had during the past week.
---
"I can't believe you bring your friend to so many races," Lando had remarked. "I almost thought you guys were dating at first."
You and Oscar had shared a look. You nodded to him to confirm it was okay to tell the truth.
"Well we are dating," Oscar said and Lando looked up from his phone, shocked.
"Oh my god! I was right!" he shouted.
You and Oscar immediately shushed him. "We're keeping it a secret for now," you explained. "Don't want the press digging into our relationship."
Lando nodded. "My lips are sealed."
Little did you know, he had immediately gone to talk to Alex and let it slip that you and Oscar were actually dating. And a few hours after that, he had mentioned it in conversation with Daniel.
---
You had a realization. The only person who you had mutually agreed to tell on the grid was Oscar's own teammate, Lando Norris. And while you had trusted him, he was sort of famous for being a PR problem.
You looked up to see Oscar leaving the press conference. Your boyfriend smiled and walked over to you when he saw you in the crowd.
"Oscar, the whole grid knows we are dating."
Oscar looked panicked. "I'm so sorry, babe. I don't know how this could have happened, let me go figure it out..."
"I know what happened," you interrupted.
"What?"
"We're going to need to have a conversation with a certain teammate of yours."
Oscar rolled his eyes. "Of course it was him."
You two made your way to the McLaren garage and Oscar's face got angry when he saw Lando nonchalantly talking with one of the mechanics. Oscar was generally a quiet guy, but could be intimidating when necessary. You smiled as you prepared to watch the confrontation.
"LANDO MOTHERFUCKING NORRIS!" Oscar shouted. "Get your ass over here right now!"
Lando looked panicked and you could almost audibly hear him say "oh shit" before scurrying out of the garage. Your boyfriend looked back at you with an amused smile.
"Last time we trust him to keep our secrets."
You laughed before pulling Oscar into a hug. Even though Lando had leaked your relationship to the grid, you knew things wouldn't be so bad as long as you still had Oscar by your side.
901 notes · View notes
tumblingxelian · 5 months ago
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A Necessary Post - Yang, Taiyang & Seeing Red
I debated this being a message or a note or a reblog, but ultimately this warranted an essay. Because a hatred of nuance is not even remotely the reason why Tai is critiqued as a teacher or father.
With that fact in mind, let's begin:
During RWBY Volume 4, Episode 9: Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back Taiyang has a great deal of critical feedback for Yang regarding her fighting style, personality & Semblance.
The issue is that Tai's words and advice when compared to what we saw on screen before & afterwards demonstrate he does not understand how it works or how she used it.
So here for your reading pleasure if a more or less line by line breakdown of Tai's advice and why I don't feel it holds up & more to the point, why I don't believe Yang utilized it.
Taiyang: Do you realize that you used your Semblance to win every fight after the qualifiers?
Yang rightfully points out that her using Burn is no different than anyone else using their Semblances. I would add that Yang's Semblance only serves to enhance her already present abilities with damage taken in a fight. So her not using it would be stupidly holding back extra energy for no reason.
Tai's critique also fails to register that when using her Semblance to take out FNKI, Yang specifically disrupted the ground so Neon could not skate effectively & used the boost in power to turn Flynt's own weapon against him.
I will be addressing Mercury further down but she used it effectively and intellectually here and to great effect.
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What's more, every other fights fighting style, weapons or both were literally built around their Semblances. Yang's threat level remains fairly consistent without her Semblance, all three of these other characters take a huge dip.
Taiyang: Because not everyone else's is basically a temper tantrum.
Ignoring that calling the manifestation of Yang's soul a temper tantrum is another in a long line if dickish things Tai says to Yang. Her Semblance literally does not work that way.
Her anger has jack and shit to do with it, this has been explained & demonstrated time and time again. Yang only gets a power boost when she's been injured, the fact she tends to be angry when using it is because being hurt sucks and she's usually in an intense fight. When the fight is going well and she still gets to use it she's not angry, as seen with a pleased smirk here:
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So as before, Tai's critique is bereft of any merit, Yang's Semblance does not work that way.
Taiyang: I'm serious! Once you take damage, you can dish it back twice as hard, but that doesn't make you invincible!
Cite a time Yang thought she was invincible, cite it provably that Yang thought, said or indicated that she felt she was invincible. You can't because Yang never indicated as such this is something Tai is assuming about her at best.
& no her jumping in the Nevermore's mouth is not an example because she was not using her Semblance, did not take damage, it was a very effective strategy & seemingly either part of the plan, or was so easily understood that it could be safely and reliably worked into the plan. She wasn't using her Semblance here but finding evidence of risky behavior was hard, especially with her Semblance, go figure.
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In fact every time Yang used her Semblance she did so only because someone landed a blow, which just happens in fights sometimes.
Taiyang: It's great when you're in a bind, but what happens if you miss? What happens if they're stronger? What then? Now you're just weak and tired!
We know what happens when Yang misses, she can swing again!
After the first blow on the Paladin she missed & needed help to catch it, her missing had zero impact on her Semblances.
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As to what happens if they are stronger, um, she loses, that sometimes happens in fights. Its not something Yang can do anything about by holding back on extra strength. Not to quote Qrow but sometimes bad things happen. Other characters losing to stronger opponents don't get given this kind of diatribe's because its pointedly obvious that there was nothing to be done about it.
& on the final piece, she was very pointedly not weak and tired after using it. The only times she has been shown to be is when she was extremely low on Aura regardless in which cases not using her Semblance is a death sentence.
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So again, we've established Tai's critique comes from nowhere & his understanding of her Semblance is nonexistent.
Taiyang: But you gotta keep your emotions in check. Keep a level head, and think before you act. Your Semblance is a great fallback, but you can't let yourself rely on it.
This is so painfully unfair it hurts.
No other character gets this kind of shit for expressing emotions in combat. In fact we see characters expressing emotions in battle all the time. Nor has she stopped displaying emotions in combat:
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I already outlined how in all two of the Yang fights Tai actually witnessed she used strategy and retained excellent combat form. So again, baseless claims from Tai.
What's more, Yang primarily does use her Semblance as a fallback rather than rely on it in these fights. She only whipped it out against Mercury when he'd unleashed his seeming kill move on her and was confident he'd won.
Not using it here would be dumb and make no sense.
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Yang doesn't rely on it to save her, she deploys it when it makes sense to & she has the energy or the need. This is more than we see from many characters.
Taiyang: It won't always save you. Obviously.
So now he is critiquing her for a fight he didn't even witness & knows jack shit about. So let's break this down once again:
Yang has spent the last 24 hours questions her sanity.
Yang's new home (Her words) is burning down.
Yang's sister is missing in all this chaos.
Then Yang's partner gets fucking stabbed, and the guy who did it is standing between them with a sword & gun, with fire all over Grimm all around.
Anything Yang can do he can counter, she tries to go around he only has to pivot. If she tries to fire from long range she might hit Blake. She tries an earth shock wave, she launches Blake into the fire.
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She quite literally had no others options & zero time to try anything else because he can just shoot or stab Blake whenever he wants.
Taiyang: You definitely have your mom's stubbornness.
This, this right here is where all this is actually coming from. Tai is once again projecting Raven onto Yang despite them frankly having almost nothing in common.
With most of Yang's visible personality tells being inherited from Summer, such as the mother daughter shoulder check of V9. Thanks to chittychittyyangyang for the GIFs
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Or as outlined in some songs with Yang's side of the lyrics explicitly citing how she is trying to fill the Summer shaped void in their lives.
Like the smell of a rose on a summer's day, I will be there to take all your fears away.
Taiyang: Your mother was... a complicated woman. Like everybody, she had her faults, but those faults are what tore our team apart. And, it did a real number on our family.
Tai blames Raven for tearing their team apart. Save that by all accounts, barring her absence things seemed to be going fine. Qrow seemed to be present in their lives, Tai looked happy, the girls were happy & Summer at least seemed happy though we know she was covering up a lot of dread.
Keep in mind Tai is projecting Raven, the woman he blames for destroying the team and damaging the family onto his daughter who literally kept the family together after Summer died. Yang's established this, Ruby has established this, its canon.
Yang: I had to pick up the pieces. I had to keep things together. Alone. (pause) Weiss, if you have something to say, then say it. Ruby: If you thought we wouldn’t come for you, then you must’ve forgotten who raised me.
Tai was not the one holding that home or family together. Unless you think the writers are gonna randomly swerve & say both Yang & Ruby are big whiny liars for some utterly nonsensical reasons. So no, I don't take him seriously as a narrator or critique of Yang, I have no reason to.
But let's push on, because I'm not done.
Taiyang: You both act like the easiest way to tackle an obstacle is through it. (pointing at Zwei) That strength is all that matters in a fight.
Ah yes, Raven, the woman famously known for thinking the easiest way to deal with an obstacles is to tackle it head on. That's why she spent years adorning herself in a Grimm helmet that hid her eyes & raised a False Maiden to serve as her body double.
A woman so inclined to rely on her own raw strength that when she was ambushed by Salem's forces she decided to trick them into an ambush.
Then when fighting Cinder and was at a disadvantage she freezes her in place while making Cinder think she is going on the offensive leaving her to be crushed by Stalactites & also utilized mind games to distract her & deal the finishing blow... Cos she only relies on strength.
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As to his final piece of advice I already address it up above, there was no way around Adam, the situation was fucked from the start.
Saying it was Yang's fault she was dismembered is no more than victim blaming, I stood by that in Volume 3 to to this day & beyond.
Taiyang: But if you just take a second look, then maybe you see... (walking toward her, stepping around Zwei) there's a way around as well.
But let's actually look at Seeing Red & if Yang listened to Tai's advice or if she not only ignored it but did the opposite of what he ordered.
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Let's see she goes in with open aggression & emotions, and also takes many blows rather than going 'around' them somehow.
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Yang, as if she were 'indestructible' outright tanks a massively charged up Aura beam for the purpose of increasing her strength.
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Then burns through all of her Aura & Semblance energies delivering one direct blow, relying on it to save her & leaving her weak & tired.
Or in other words, she:
Yang didn't miss, but we know that isn't a real issue anyway.
Yang used her Semblance to 'win' the fight & very much did rely on it to save her.
Yang expressed anger & many other emotions in the battle & still continues to does so.
Yang willingly took huge risks that involved her being able to take tons of damage rather than go "Around" the problem.
Yang knew Adam was likely stronger given it was 2 V1 but relied on her Semblance to get her out of that bind and she was in fact left weak and tired.
This is also the first time she has done several of these things, or otherwise demonstrated these traits, such as being left weak and tired or willingly tanking big attacks rather than just being hit by surprise or due to being overwhelmed.
I don't take Tai's advice seriously because none of it was accurate or aligned with the Semblance we saw in action or had described to us.
I don't trust Tai's opinion on Yang because his take on her is explicitly informed by Raven & not the Yang we spent four & then five more volumes getting to know.
I don't take Tai's words over Yang's, Ruby's or what we see on screen because Tai is at best a secondary or minor character & a recurring theme in RWBY is the failure of older generations.
These failures are not just in the past but how they have been consistently failing the next generation as the story is being told. There is zero reason to think Tai is some magic exception to this narrative trend when much more well explored characters like Maria, Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, Raven, and hell, Summer Rose are not.
& that is my stance on that, thanks for tuning in!
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thatfandomslut · 8 months ago
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I Want To Marry You
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Regina George x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Trigger Warnings: description of making out, extra fluffy
Request:
Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Regina George w/ quote 57 with chocolate number 7. Or: "You don't marry someone you can live with, you marry the person you cannot live without." w/ falling in love
Valentine's / Followers Celebration requests are closed.
(Y/n)'s chest heaved, some hair from her bun slipping out and in front of her eyes. She and Regina had just pushed their beds together and they were now admiring their work. This was their second semester as college roommates, and they were rarely apart from each other. Even during their breaks, they called on FaceTime every day at some point. Everyone on campus knew they were together, except (Y/n) and Regina. Their tight-knit friend group deemed it to be a tragedy that it was taking them this long to realize their feelings for each other. They were beginning to wonder if they needed to help them or not. Instead, they just waited for the girls to finally realize their feelings themselves.
"Now we just have to put the full mattress on the bed." (Y/n) wiped the sweat from their brow. They went halfsies on a storage unit for the two twin mattresses that the college gave them. They knew they would have to return it to bed at the end of the semester, but that wasn't for months. For now, they stood together, wondering why they felt like this was the best idea given how much work it was becoming. They still needed to move their desks to the opposite side of the room and then pile the mattresses in the U-Haul they had gotten. "Are you ready, babe?"
The 'babe' would've thrown Regina off if (Y/n) didn't call everyone babe. It still did cause a tingle to shoot through her spine as she held the mattress onto the bed. "Perfect," Regina commented as she pulled out the sheets they had picked out together. "You know, we should get married," Regina said absentmindedly as she tossed (Y/n) her corners for the fitted sheet. The words caused (Y/n) to freeze for a moment as she thought about the right words to say. Regina, on the other hand, did not realize the depth in her words.
(Y/n) bit back a smile before she looked over at Regina, fixing the sheet to where there were no creases. "Why is that? Are you just that in love with me?" (Y/n) asked cheekily. As cheeky as she was, she was genuinely curious about what Regina had to say about how felt about her. She was hoping that this was the moment that she would hear the words that she had always wanted to hear come from Regina. Her fingers twitched as she reached for her pillow to put on the bed before they put on the final cover, staring at Regina expectantly.
Regina was now beginning to realize how deep her words had met when she had also frozen momentarily over (Y/n)'s initial question. "Well, I think the way we live together is amazing, nothing would have to change. We already have each other's schedules memorized. We have the U-Haul and the storage unit. Why not also just get married?" Regina teased lightly, trying to stop her heart from beating as quickly as it was.
(Y/n) turned on the fan she had over on her side of the bed before she laid down in thought. The other side of the mattress dipped, letting her know that Regina had joined her side. Their hands grazed together before they turned to look at each other. "You don't marry someone you can live with, you marry the person you cannot live without." (Y/n) told her softly. She had been falling in love with Regina since last semester, but the idea of Regina only wanting to marry her because they lived together well didn't sit right with her. Then again, why was she overthinking this? They weren't even dating.
Regina's eyes flickered to (Y/n)'s lips for a moment as she pursed her own. "I know, but… I want to marry you." She whispered, now making sure she put the depth in her sentence. "Obviously, we'd have to date first, but I want to do that, too. What you said is right because I can't live without you. I have loved you since Christmas, right before last semester." Regina told her, causing (Y/n)'s lips to part slightly in shock. She wasn't expecting any of those words to come out of Regina.
"I feel the same way, Regina." She said softly. They weren't sure who initiated the kiss, just that their lips were now crashing together as they ruined the sheets they had just made. But neither of them cared about that as their hands tried to find a place on each other's bodies. As they pulled away, they both adorned swollen lips and giant smiles. "I have been falling for you since last semester. I just never could imagine that you felt the same way. You're just… You're perfect, Regina."
"What's going on in here?" Their friend's voice could be heard as they entered the dorm. The door had been opened, so they couldn't exactly fault Sasha for ruining their moment. Instead, they watched Sasha's eyes widen. Regina laughed a bit, covering her mouth as (Y/n)'s face turned a deep shade of red. "I did not mean to interrupt. I'm very sorry, I should've knocked on the wall. We were just wondering if you two wanted to join us for dinner. Do you want me to tell the others that you two are busy?"
Regina stood up as she fixed herself. Looking over at (Y/n), she nodded softly. "Yeah, we have a date we need to get to. It's long overdue. But thank you for the invite, Sash." She said softly, watching Sasha leave with a wink. "What do you say for going somewhere special after we drop off the mattresses?" She questioned softly, glancing over at (Y/n) with a sly smirk on her pink lips.
(Y/n) grinned widely, standing up to kiss Regina another quick kiss. "Let me shower first, and then for sure." Regina watched (Y/n) leave the room with a giant grin, happy that she and (Y/n) finally got together. All it took was them putting a bed together to realize that they liked each other.
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transmascaraa · 8 months ago
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Idk how to write this but
Reader is so lost in being a people pleaser, they no longer defend themselves when being insulted
(like, someone saying "I wish you could just shut up and never speak again" to them seriously, and them clearly hurt, would still laugh as if what the person said was a joke etc)
🫶🫶
multiple characters headcannons!
you're a people-pleaser...
characters: lyney, gaming, tighnari x gn!reader
author's note: WHY ARE YOUR REQUESTS LITERALLY ME😭😭 i love them tho‼️ ENJOY READING<33 (random writing motivation smh)
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☆ Lyney
-off-topic but the lucille font looks so beautiful with lyney's name
-ANYWAYS
-speaking from experience, people-pleasing sucks.
-and to overcome it, you need somebody's support, because you most likely won't be able to do it on your own.
-sometimes, it can only take a few kind words to break out of it.
-and he will be the one who will help you.
-since i hc him as a people-pleaser too, playing the role as the "big brother" to protect his siblings and please 'father' because he's occupied to do so,
-yes, he does genuinely care about his siblings, but he sometimes goes too far just to be sure.
-so, back to him helping you, he'll always remind you that you're your own person, that you're not alive to just please others.
-you don't owe them anything, so why do you do it?
-nonetheless he will give his all to praise you and remind you that you're perfect just the way you are, and that you shouldn't change for anyone except for yourself.
-sometimes, if you're about to make a choice you clearly don't want, he'll gladly choose for you and say that you're just indecisive.
-"you're hurting yourself for others, it's not good. you're you, unique."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✯ Gaming
-similar to lyney, except for the fact that he isn't a people-pleaser himself.
-you probably wouldn't even need to tell him anything, he'd realize it on his own.
-your every single day would be filled with millions of praises about how you're unique on your own.
-how you shouldn't listen to others.
-how you only live once.
-soon enough, you'd probably break down to him many times about it(like you probably would to anyone)
-and when you've listened to his praises and reminders enough, you'd slowly get better and better at actually being yourself.
-yes, of course it would take some time, of course it can't happen overnight, but he'll wait.
-he'll be patient with you.
-he won't rush you.
-all he cares about is that in the end, you'd finally put an end to it.
-and trust me, it would come sooner than expected.
-"you're nobody's toy or puppet for them to play with. you're your own person, [name]."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✿ Tighnari
-get ready for the biggest mom ever.
-he would realize on his own, not like he wouldn't notice you choosing to work for the whole night rather than rest, especially because it was requested by someone you hate.
-AND IT WAS SOMETHING OPTIONAL.
-he's not dumb, he will notice.
-he'll literally call you to the living room for some "serious talk" one day and it would actually get you worried.
-then, he will start lecturing you about it and how bad it is for you and your health.
-you actually start feeling bad for him... he cares about you so much and everything while you aren't even happy yourself... you let others walk over you while you laugh at the pain.
-once he realizes that you started feeling bad, he'll apologize for coming off as rude or mean, even if you confront him that it's okay afterwards.
-he'll start reminding you about all the reasons why you shouldn't do it, but he won't rush you, he'll let you take your time.
-it may take you a but longer, but it will come eventually.
-every morning, he will put a new quote on the bathroom mirror just for you.
-quotes as in "live laugh love", "keep on going!", "you can do it!", "be yourself!", etc.
-"you don't live to please anyone, no matter how important they are. you're just fine on your own."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I LOVE THIS
writing motivation hits different fr
I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT^^
| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3
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watarfallar · 9 days ago
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If I had a nickel for every time I posted an incorrect quotes dump, I'd have a lot of nickles!
BigB: What if I lied this whole time and I'm actually 18? Mumbo: BigB, stop trying to get drugs. BigB: Don't suppress my interests.
Lizzie: Oh, my God. Do you know what this is? Jimmy: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.
Tango: Don’t stay up all night, Ren. Last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt.
Scar: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. Gem, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.
Etho: Gem has no idea I’m high. Gem: You’re high? Etho: Oh, I’m sorry. Etho, leaning over to Grian: Gem has no idea I’m high.
Martyn: Why don't we just call it, "M.C. Donald's?" Scar: Because it just sounds like a stupid rapper's name. Cleo: It'd just be like- "Eyo, it's ya boy, M.C. Donald!"
Scar: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Grian: 'Prettiest Smile' Joel: 'Nicest Personality' Ren: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Cleo: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'
Impulse: I don't follow the rules. I follow dogs on social media.
Pearl: So I’m the only one around here who can clean up, huh? You can't even lift a finger? Tango: Do I get to pick the finger?
Jimmy, talking to Impulse: Well Impulse, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Gem do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. Impulse: … Gem, from the distance: They’re not wrong though!
Pearl: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.
BigB: Tango, what if there are monsters? Tango: Don’t worry, we’re top of the food chain. Much later… BigB, lying awake at night: I am the monster.
Pearl: If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, Gem! *Neither of them die* Gem: … Pearl: … Gem: So do you wanna talk about somethi- Pearl: No thank you.
Bdubs: Aww, what's your dog's name? Tango: Spartacus. Bdubs, yelling to Martyn: TRY SPARTACUS! Martyn, on the computer: DIDN'T WORK! Tango: Bdubs: What's your favorite number?
Scott: Don’t say a word. Impulse: Fergalicious. Scott: Impulse, I said no words. Impulse: Oh, I see how it works. Two weeks ago, we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word, now suddenly it is a word because it’s convenient for you.
Skizz, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.
Cleo: Who wants to make fifty bucks? Tango: How? Cleo: I need someone to take the fall. Tango: What did you do? Cleo: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked. Etho, from the other room: Oh my god. Cleo: ... Etho: OH MY GOD! Tango: Make it a hundred. Cleo: Deal.
Mumbo: So jellyshish- Grian, laughing: JELLYSHISH!? Mumbo: You know what I meant!
Cleo: We can't lose. Because we have this. *points to their chest* Skizz: We have heart? Cleo: Heart? No, me. I'm pointing at myself. I'm going to win this for us.
Etho: Do you even have a plan? Tango: This is the plan! I break you out, chaos, destruction, something something something, we win! Etho: Oh, of course, the old “something something something we win”. That’s a terrible plan!
Pearl: Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them? Grian: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them. Pearl: Okay yeah thanks Grian, that's great but WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT?
Scar: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.
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mysteryshoptls · 1 year ago
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SSR Jamil Viper - Platinum Jacket Vignette
"Happy 100th Anniversary"
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[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Jamil: As a supporter of the Land of Dawning National Museum of Art's 100th Anniversary Celebration, I've made sure to look into every single exhibit.
Jamil: If I recall, the next exhibit over should have a painting of the Sorcerer of the Sands on display…
???: That's a good look he's got there. Makes sense, though, this captures the moment he got his hands on that Very Rare mat he'd been searching a long time for, so.
Jamil: Idia-senpai, is that you over there…?
Idia: EEK! O-O-Oh, it's Jamil-shi. Don't just suddenly start talking to me like that…
Jamil: My apologies. I didn't expect you to be this startled just by calling out to you.
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Jamil: At any rate, this painting is spectacular… It's overwhelming to see the real thing in person like this.
Jamil: He overcame countless ordeals and finally obtained the magic lamp that he had been continuously seeking for many years…
Jamil: This painting perfectly depicts the legendary tale of the Sorcerer of the Sands.
Idia: …He continuously searched for just one thing for countless years, huh. I think I can sympathize with him.
Jamil: Sympathize?
Idia: Ah, no, uh… I just meant that there was something that I wanted to have, no matter how hard I'd have to struggle to get it, is all…
Jamil: Something you wanted to have, no matter how hard you'd have to struggle for it, hm…
Idia: Th-The way you reacted there… W-Was there something that you wanted, Jamil-shi?
Jamil: Yes, I suppose I want…
Jamil: THE POWER TO COMMAND THE UNIVERSE.
Idia: HUH!?!
Idia: N-Never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth, sounds like something a middle schooler would say…
Jamil: I was just trying to mimic a quote that comes from the legends of the Sorcerer of the Sands, but… Looks like you didn't catch the reference.
Idia: Ah, so it was a joke… For a second there I thought we were similar, soz…
Jamil: No, there's no need for you to apologize… We were talking about things we want, right?
Jamil: There are many things I want, but… I suppose my current priority is networking.
Idia: Siiigh, so that's what you went with.
Idia: Still feel like I could relate better with you when you said you wanted "the power to command the universe"…
Jamil: In order to fulfill my deepest desires, I need useful…
Jamil: …I mean, helpful people with whom I can solidify and further my relationships with.
Jamil: After all, they say that the Sorcerer of the Sands also received assistance from many people in order to obtain that magic lamp.
Jamil: That is why I want to network and make human connections, so that I will never miss out on my deepest desires.
Idia: Yeah, I can get wanting to get your hands on a rare item as much as the next guy, but…
Idia: Leaving it to other people means they could end up betraying you. And it'd already be impossible to set up those human relations from the get-go.
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Idia: But hey, since the Sorcerer of the Sands held the spirit of deliberation…
Idia: Maybe he was able to work with others the same way you think through things, Jamil-shi. IDK.
Jamil: If there were any similarities in the way the Sorcerer of the Sands and I thought, then I would consider that a high honor.
Jamil: In most legends, he is described as a man who was prepared for any possible circumstance that could arise.
Jamil: That is, in both the country's affairs, and his personal affairs.
Jamil: In order to become someone as great as he was, I will continue to improve myself with care.
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[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
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Jamil: This is a painting of a bird. It seems what's depicted here is the hornbill that served the royal King of Beasts family for generations…
Idia: U-Uh-huh… Looks like it's spouting something of all smug-like.
Jamil: Perhaps he's advising the royal family on something… Or no, maybe he's just lecturing.
Jamil: From what I understand, in addition to being the king's chamberlain, he was also the prince's chaperone as well.
Idia: For him to lecture someone he serves like that, he's either got guts or is unafraid of anything…
Jamil: Well, if the prince was the type to do his own thing, or act without thinking, dragging other people around him into his messes…
Jamil: I think I also would have a few frank words to say to him.
Idia: Jamil-shi, doesn't it seem like you're bringing your own feelings into this?
Jamil: …You must be imagining it.
Jamil: Now that I think of it… I heard that this hornbill was once asked by the King of Beasts to sing lullabies.
Idia: H-He asked his stern chamberlain for lullabies… Sounds like the King of Beasts' courage knew no bounds.
Jamil: Perhaps he got along well with the King of Beasts, let alone the prince.
Idia: My vote is that he'd have him sing lullabies in retaliation for nagging him day in and day out.
Jamil: Haha, that's possible too.
Jamil: But even so… Lullabies, huh. I remember my sister used to pester me for them all the time way back when, too.
Idia: U-Uh-huh… What another lovely memory for you.
Jamil: I don't know what you may be imagining, Idia-senpai… But it absolutely isn't a lovely memory at all.
Idia: Eh, r-really?
Jamil: Yes. Even though I tried my utmost to sing her a lullaby to help her sleep…
Idia: She wouldn't sleep at all?
Jamil: That'd still be a cuter outcome than what would happen.
Jamil: She'd furrow her brow at me and say YOU'RE TERRIBLE AT THIS!
Idia: Gaha! Out of the mouths of babes, as they say!!
Idia: Oh, but you were part of the NRC Tribe, right?
Idia: So that should mean that your singing was good enough to be chosen by that Vil Schoenheit, right?
Jamil: Well, sure… Ever since my sister first made fun of me, I've practiced a lot. I thought I improved enough that I could sing in front of people without embarrassing myself.
Jamil: My sister was also watching the live broadcast of the VDC, so I said to her, "Guess you can't make fun of me for being terrible at singing anymore"…
Jamil: And she responded with, "What are you even talking about?"
Idia: So she didn't even remember she said all that!? H-Heehee… Jamil-shi, that sucks!
Jamil: Right, I felt like an idiot for overthinking it for years.
Jamil: Well, I guess all's end that ends well, since all that practice means that my grades in music class don't suffer.
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[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
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Idia: Ooh, the painting we can see over there is of the Thorn Fairy. It looks like she's in a bit of a pinch surrounded by a ton of soldiers.
Jamil: Yes but look at her expression. Although there are so many weapons pointed at her, she fears nothing.
Idia: More like the soldiers are the ones who're scared of her. But, how did this situation happen, in the first place?
Jamil: They say that the Thorn Fairy held magical power so great that everyone prostrated themselves before her. That is why she is legendary.
Jamil: However, humans often fear those who have unfathomable power…
Jamil: So I'm sure there were some humans who would attempt to point their weapons at her in this fashion. Foolish, is all I can call them.
Idia: Uh-huuuh, I see. If it were a video game, I can understand getting all excited trying to figure out a way out of throng of people, but…
Idia: If I ever got surrounded by so many people IRL, I'd faint immediately.
Jamil: I'm sure you're just overexaggerating about the faint…
Idia: Overexaggerating!? J-Jamil-shi, are you saying that you could go up against a large group of people like that and stay composed?
Jamil: Hm, I would… I would come back another day and request to speak one-on-one with the king who commands those soldiers.
Jamil: Well, that's assuming that they are a king who is willing to have a rational discussion.
Idia: Oh, so you wouldn't be able to handle them like the Thorn Fairy would…
Jamil: Well, isn't she considered one of the Great Seven because she can accomplish things that ordinary people cannot?
Jamil: Not only does she harness great power, but she is also very big-hearted. If it were me, I would probably have retaliated against them.
Idia: Oh, yeah? What kind of revenge would you come up with? Make 'em stub their toe on a desk corner or something?
Jamil: Heh, perhaps.
Idia: Oh, that look in his eyes means he's definitely plotting something…
Idia: I-I just remembered something urgent I need to do, so I'll leave you to it!
[Idia runs away]
Jamil: Something urgent? What else could he possibly have to do here? As supporters we're just here to enjoy the art museum.
Jamil: Well, no matter. I was just thinking I'd like to look at the exhibits quietly without anyone else bothering me.
Jamil: "What kind of revenge would I come up with?"… Hm.
Jamil: Well, if it were me…
Jamil: I would make them feel abject humiliation in every possible way so they could never walk the earth with dignity ever again.
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Requested by @bibi-cha.
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kahluah · 2 months ago
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*puts hand up* sorry I’m very new here what’s the context with what’s happening with the tag war??
Alright, I will give my run down, but I will not be naming any blog names on either side even if I have the info and the action was net positive. I just like to use my blog to scroll and reblog for the most part and refuse to embroil myself in the drama more than just giving my view on it as a bystander. One that definitely has an opinion on the events, but also as someone who would rather curate my own experience than fight.
So all this fighting that is going on, it used to just happen in the normal "Jiang Cheng" tag because back then there was no "canon Jiang Cheng" tag; it had not been created yet. (By that I mean it was not a tag used as a tag, Tumblr's shitty search algorithm might still show posts if one typed it in to the search bar because those posts had the words 'canon', 'Jiang', and 'Cheng' in the tags separately, but there would not be posts with "#canon Jiang Cheng" because nobody normally creates a post with a tag like that when "#Jiang Cheng" was suffice. Sometimes I see irrelevant posts in the canon Jiang Cheng tag, but the actual tag isn't on the post, the tags just happen to have all three words in them. Those I ignore because that is Tumblr's fault, not the poster.)
The fighting was between people that like the character and prefer to see the good in him and the interpretation of his character, and those that may or may not like the character (just because you like a character does not mean you need to defend their every action after all) but do not share that opinion of his character and have a more neutral or negative portrayal by contrast. The former also tended to favor or have only read the novel as it is the source material for all other adaptations.
Now things really came to a head when hate and threats were being thrown about on posts that were just quotes from the book showing the negative actions of Jiang Cheng. The people posting the quotes were basically told "if you hate the character why don't you just tag the post as anti-JC?!" but is it really right to call those anti posts when they were posting how the character acts in the source material? That is the character. That is how he acted. Look it is in the book! The character really did that! It is not somebody's negative headcanon that the character may act like that, it is something the character actually did. Personally I can not consider that as an anti character post, and neither did the people who made posts like that.
But things did get heated enough that some people finally took a step back and said "Fine. You want us to make our own space to make these posts so that you do not have to see us talk about JC this way? We will. It will be #canon Jiang Cheng and you can block it if you don't want to see the posts." Was the name picked in the spirit of schadenfreude? Very probable, but it is also not an incorrect name as the people who wanted to use it base their opinion on the novel. But the point was that the tag was created so that people now had their own space to make the posts they wanted and those that did not want to see it could block the tag. Curate your own experience; we can block tags on this site for a reason and advertising tags to block is a courtesy. (Because as said previously, the search here sucks, because the posts contain the character's name they are still likely to show up in the main tag, but block the newly created tag and you will not see those posts either way). Could the other people come into the tag in good faith and make arguments with textual support? Yeah, that was welcomed, but in the spirit of debate they should expect rebuttal. Was that what happened? No.
No instead what happened was basically this meme
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They did not like the name chosen for the tag. They read the novel too and still believe that JC is good, so they should be able to use the tag too! Never mind the fact that the tag was made so they could block the posts they didn't want to see. So that they can go on with their days no longer having to deal with the people they constantly fought with. No. Instead of curating the experience of this website, they would get so hung up on the fact that there was now a tag called #canon Jiang Cheng in use that they had to use it too to defend JC from the people that post 'negative' things about him; even if it is novel text!
So while the fighting didn't stop, it did get slightly better because not everyone felt the need to jump into the new tag to defend their fave. Some people actually did curate their experience. Plus there is a block button and people do use it, so things got to a point where I would say it was relatively stable even if there was still fights here and there. (But once again I lurk, I do not participate. Things may not have been the same for more outspoken people).
But then a certain muskrat bought Twitter and a chunk of the fandom there fled here. That's when the main push to "reclaim the tag" and the new influx of people hopping into the tag to argue and defend their fave appeared. These people did not know why the tag was made, they just saw blogs that they liked telling people about the "JC-antis" that made it and how with the new people pouring into the Tumblr fandom from twitter, they had a chance to flood it and reclaim it. And since then the fighting has not really stopped.
As for what has happened in the past few days, you have JC defenders flooding the tag with fan art (not canon), screen caps from CLQ (not canon), and screenshots of a sentence or two from the novel (canon, but usually out of context or lacking additional lines that go on to rebut what was previously said) in the tag and the people who made the tag for a specific purpose getting mad about the spam. (I block so I have no clue how big the influx was or whatever but there was definitely like at least 3 new people I had to block). So when they made posts venting the anger, you got JC defenders coming back to them and going "But I never sent any hate or harassment! I just used the tag to talk about the canon character!" And perhaps they didn't, but these people in their defense always ignore and never respond to the question of why they are in the tag instead of blocking it because that is what the tag was made for. Instead they come back with "Well if you want to talk about JC that way, why don't you post in the anti tag or make your own tag!"... Remember that meme picture I used above. Yup.
The tag war began because people did not like negative posts about JC in the main character tag for JC. When told to use the anti tag or make a new tag, a new tag was made, but instead of curating the experience the stans of JC got so tilted at the name of the tag that they decided that they would come into the tag and continue the fight instead of just blocking it. Twitter fallout made the fighting worse. And now we have come full circle to the JC stans once again telling people to just use the anti tag or make their own tag.
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natsgrave · 7 months ago
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YOU'RE LOSING ME | wanda maximoff
how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? do i throw out everything we built or keep it? and you know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list
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Y/N's POV
What are you really willing to do for love? For someone so important to you?
Well, for me, I'll do everything and anything for that person. Even though it hurts. So much.
I rolled to my side and smile instantly crept into my face. There she is, my girlfriend looking so peaceful. I admire her sleeping state and curved her figures inside my mind.
"You know, it's rude to stare." She suddenly spoke making me laugh.
"What? Can't I admire my gorgeous girl?" I teasingly asked.
She slowly opened her eyes revealing my favorite green eyes, "Good morning, Y/N." she whispered with a smile.
"Good morning, witchy." I softly said with a little laugh that I tried to hide causing her to throw a pillow at me.
I love morning like this. Just us not caring about the world.
Just like the clock works before we know it, we already have to leave the bed to face reality.
"It's nice to finally see you awake, love birds." Tony said as he took a sipped of his coffee.
"We're not love birds, Stark." Wanda replied with the roll of her eyes.
Ah, yes, we're secret because she said and I quote she's not yet ready to come out. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't hurt me one bit because it does. All I want is to love her, out in the open and not like this.
I felt a hand touches my shoulder causing me to go back to reality, I look infront of me and met Wanda's soft gazes, "Are you okay? I've called you so many times."
"Oh, yeah. Don't worry, I'm good." I breathed out and walked away not giving her any second glance.
I walked towards the kitchen and make myself coffee when Natasha spoke.
"Still keeping it a secret?" I didn't even notice she's here. And yes, she's the only one who knows about our relationship. We didn't tell her for the record, she just walked in on us… making out.
Anyway, I look up at her and gave her a defeated smile, "Isn't it obvious?"
"How long are you going to ignore that pain inside your chest?" she asked and I didn't answer because honestly… I don't know either.
"Y/N, when are you going to choose yourself? When are you going to see what your worth really is?" She continues holding my shoulder forcing me to face her.
"I love her." I whispered.
"And I know that, I can see that. Hell, you wouldn't even ignore and bare all this pain if you don't." Nat said and lift my chin, "You're like a sister to me and I don't say this often but I do love you, Y/N. I care for you and it's really hard seeing my little sister getting hurt whether she does it unintentionally." She softly added.
"Nat, I-" The words I was about to say instantly cut off when I heard Wanda's laugh ringing loud. I look behind us and see her laughing with Vision. The fucking red walking toaster.
"Are you sure the reason why she's keeping you both a secret is because she is not yet ready or…?" She asked trailing her last word knowing that I'll know it instantly.
"It's nothing, don't worry about it." I reassured her but deep down, it was for me.
Days turns into weeks which also turn into months. Months and nothing changed, not even a single thing. Every time I try opening the subject to Wanda, she always find a way to divert it into different subject but today, I wouldn't let it happen. Not anymore.
"Wanda, we need to talk." I sternly said as I enter her room.
"Hi to you too, baby." she replied still sitting on her bed.
"We can't go on like this." I directly said starting the topic.
"Y/N, can we–"
"No, we can't. We're going to talk about this right now. God, we've been together for almost three years, Wanda. Three long fucking years and not even single effort you made to change our status."
"Y/N, you know damn well I'm not yet ready to make us public." She said nearly shouting.
"Three years is not enough for you? I didn't say that you make us public, all I want is for the team to know. Just them. I'm tired being your little secret, I'm tired of you being mine just around this goddamn four walls. I respect what you want and need, Wanda. For three years, I prioritized what you want, this, but you have to understand that I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this anymore. I kept pushing my needs aside because I love you, but I can't do it anymore. I want to love you, freely. I kept choosing you, I kept giving you all my best me's until there's nothing left for me. I can't choose you anymore." I ramble, on the verge of crying but I kept all my emotions under control.
"Y/N, I… I'm sorry." Wanda softly said standing infront of me.
"Are you apologizing because you're now realizing all of this or are you apologizing because you still can't give the only thing I want?" I asked quietly.
"I'm sorry because I hurt you and I keep on hurting you."
"THEN TAKE IT AWAY! MAKE THIS GO AWAY BECAUSE I DON'T WANT THIS! DO SOMETHING!" I shouted as my tears finally left my eyes.
"Y/N…"
"Wanda, I don't know anymore. Do I throw out everything we built or keep it? I'm getting tired. I tried, I keep telling myself to wait until you're ready but every time, this voices inside my head kept telling and asking me, are you even going to get there?" I cried out.
"Are you… Are you tired now, Y/N?" she shakily asked.
I nod and wiped my tears, "I'm so tired, Wanda. I feel so lost, this between us made me doubt myself so much. Am I not worth the risk for you? I'm tired of wondering how can you just pretend everyday like we're nothing." I sobbed and sat on the bed as I rest my face on my hands, "I'm tired of saying that I'm okay, that it doesn't hurt. I'm tired of pretending everyday. I'm tired of waiting for you to fulfill your promises. I'm tired of defending you against Nat especially myself. I believed in you, Wanda. I kept waiting but it seems like in this relationship, it's not us against the world. It's me against you." I said between cries looking at her to see her crying as well.
"Y/N, I know whatever I say right now wouldn't change anything. It won't take the pain that I've caused you but trust me, I love you. I really do. I can understand how hurtful it must have been for you. I know that I failed to treat you with the love and respect that you deserve. I am truly sorry for any pain or suffering that I have caused you. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I can only imagine the amount of pain that I have caused you. I want you to know that I am willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us. I am willing to work on myself and our relationship to ensure that this does not happen again. I know that sorry is not enough to fix the mess I have made. I promise to do everything I can to show you how much I love and value you as my girlfriend." Wanda sobbingly said as she held my hand.
"There, you're making promises once again. How many time did you promise me that you'll make it up to me? at first you'll make such effort but eventually, you'll stop and forget about it. I don't even know if I can trust anything that's coming out of your mouth right now." I said and walked away from her, "It hurts me to think that we can't share this part of our lives together with those who are important to us. Am I not important to you? Do you not trust me? Or is it just too scary to go against the norm? I can't keep pretending not to be in love with you when we're around others. I want to hold your hand, introduce you to my friends and family, and just be able to love you openly without any fear or shame." I added. "I don't understand." Wanda said. I chuckled, "I know you don't."
"Do you want to end this? Us?" She asked with fears in her eyes.
I stayed quiet for few seconds thinking what I really want before looking back at her meeting her eyes, "Yes." I husked out causing more tears to fall out of her eyes.
"I'm just so tired, Wanda. I'm tired of the stress and the pressure that surrounds us every day. I'm tired of asking 'how long?' I'm tired of feeling like there's never enough time to do everything we want to do. I'm tired of constantly feeling like we're not doing enough, or that we're falling short somehow. Most of all, I'm tired of feeling disconnected from you. It feels like you've been so busy, so caught up in your own life, that you don't take the time to connect with me. I miss those intimate moments where we could just talk about anything and everything, and I feel like we don't have those as often as we should. It has to be done and I don't want to place blame on anyone— not myself, not you, not anyone else." I walked towards her and wiped her tears before pressing our foreheads together, "I'm sorry, I never thought that this day will come. I'm sorry I got tired and couldn't wait anymore. I love you but I can't be with you anymore. My heart won't start anymore." I finished before lingering a long kiss on her head.
"I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry for not showing it enough. I'm sorry I failed us." She sniffles before looking at me and caressed my cheeks, "I love you… in every universe."
I finally understood that true love isn't always about being together; Sometimes, it's about letting go. Because love alone, wasn't enough.
Both ends of rope were held, but they were held by me, and only me.
I love her too much and that's my biggest mistake I'll never regret, and if I'd ever meet her again in another lifetime, I'll beg the god to let me have you this time.
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rottenpumpkin13 · 7 months ago
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AGZSC find a copy of Cards Against Humanity and decide to play. How much chaos ensues?
SOLDIERs Against Humanity
• Genesis pulls out a Cards Against Humanity deck when they're all in the break room one day. Angeal's knee-jerk reaction is to dive across the couch and grab it from him.
• Indignant, Genesis asks him what's wrong. Angeal makes it clear that they won't be playing Cards Against Humanity, on account of it ending like every other game they play together.
Angeal: I'm calling it now—Genesis is going to whine about being given unfair cards, Sephiroth is going to accuse everyone of cheating, and Zack is going to cry when he loses.
Zack: That's bogus! Where did you get that idea??
Angeal: Because that's what happened the last time we played Uno, which resulted in a crime scene tape, a table being cut in half and the discovery that you can, in fact, stab someone with a card. *Looks long and hard at Sephiroth*
Genesis: That won't happen again, I assure you.
Zack: Yeah, well behave! We promise!
Sephiroth: And I'll do it again.
*Zack and Genesis slap him upside the head*
Sephiroth: I mean....yes, we'll behave.
Angeal: Fine, but since I'm playing too we'll need a game master.
Sephiroth: Get Strife in here.
Zack: Cloud said he won't play board games with us anymore because he doesn't wanna go to jail.
Genesis: Ridiculous. Sephiroth, come with me.
• Thirty minutes later, they drag Cloud up kicking and screaming (literally). Angeal sets the game up on the coffee table—he insisted that they play right there so that the entire SOLDIER floor can hear them fighting and it'll shame them into behaving.
• Cloud shuffles the deck and hands them out to everyone. Zack takes one look at his own cards and pales, staring at them frozen in horror.
Zack: Uh...are these cards right!?
Angeal: What did I just say about complaining about the cards!?
Zack: I'm not complaining, I'M CONCERNED.
• Cloud pulls out the first black card.
Cloud: "Because they are forbidden from masturbating, planetarians channel their repressed sexual energy into_____"
Genesis: Ha! Dying of dysentery
Angeal: A family of chocobos. This game makes me feel like a terrible person.
Cloud: Sephiroth, you're next.
Sephiroth: Actually, I don't feel that these cards accurately answer the query. You see, planetarians—
Genesis: Sephiroth, do you understand the game?
Sephiroth: I do.
Genesis: Then answer with a card.
Sephiroth: But the cards don't make sense. In what world do planetarians channel their repressed sexual energy into, quote, Filling every orifice with butterscotch pudding??
*Angeal and Genesis lose their shit*
Cloud: Zack, you're next.
*Zack is trembling in fear*
Cloud: "Because they are forbidden from masturbating, planetarians channel their repressed sexual energy into_____"
Zack: Sephiroth's mother.
Angeal: WHAT?
Zack: IT'S NOT ME, IT'S THE CARD I SWEAR *he shows them the card*
Genesis: HOW DID YOU GET A SEPHIROTH-THEMED ONE? THAT'S NOT FAIR.
Zack: Sephiroth, you're not mad are you?
Sephiroth: Of course not. It's merely a game.
Cloud: Zack, one point. Let's continue.
Cloud: "In Midgar County Jail, word is you can trade 200 cigarettes for_____"
Genesis: Blow Up Bianca the Latex Lovedoll!
Angeal: A defective condom.
Sephiroth: Again, I'm unsure how one can trade, quote, "Feeling aroused by vehicular manslaughter," for cigarettes. Usually, when in jail, one will look to trade comestibles and other—
Genesis: I am going to choke you to death with your own hair.
Sephiroth:
Cloud: Zack, you're—stop crying—you're next. In Midgar County Jail, word is you can trade 200 cigarettes for_____"
Zack: A night of passion with Sephiroth's mother.
Genesis: HOW COME YOU GOT ALL THE GOOD CARDS?
Angeal: SERIOUSLY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR CARDS?
Zack: I DON'T KNOW.
Zack: Sephiroth, please don't be mad!
Sephiroth: I'm slightly irritated, but otherwise calm.
Cloud: Zack, two points. Moving on. "A romantic, candlelit dinner would be incomplete without____"
Genesis: Calculating every mannerism so as not to suggest homosexuality!
Angeal: Oh my god. Dwarf tossing. Zack, are you sobbing??
Sephiroth: Due to my limited romantic experience, I cannot possibly—
Genesis: FOR THE LOVE OF SHIT USE THE CARDS.
Cloud: Zack is having a panic attack.
Sephiroth: But it doesn't make sense. How is a romantic, candlelit dinner complete with, quote, Fetal alcohol syndrome?
Cloud: Zack, you're next. A romantic, candlelit dinner would be incomplete without____
Zack, sobbing: A mutual orgasm with Sephiroth's mother.
Genesis: THAT'S IT. I CAN'T PLAY IF ZACK'S GOING TO CHEAT.
Zack: I'M NOT CHEATING LOOK AT MY CARD.
Angeal: GENESIS, SIT DOWN YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD BEHAVE.
Cloud: WHY ARE WE FIGHTING?
Angeal: WE'RE NOT FIGHTING. WE'RE HAVING A LOVELY GAME AMONGST FRIENDS—SEPHIROTH WHY DO YOU HAVE A KNIFE?
*Zack is sobbing louder and trying to run away, Genesis is holding him down*
Sephiroth: I like to have it on hand should I feel the need to use it.
*Lazard pokes his head in the room*
Lazard: STOP YELLING OR I'M GOING TO CALL THE POLICE.
Cloud: GUYS, SHUT UP. SIT DOWN. Zack, one point.
Genesis: WHY ARE YOU GIVING HIM ALL THE POINTS??
Cloud: BECAUSE HE'S THE ONLY ONE WITH GOOD ANSWERS.
*Lazard pokes his head back in the room*
Lazard: WHAT DID I JUST—
*Angeal rips off his boot and violently throws it at him*
Cloud: Next round. "What's the gift that keeps on giving?"
Genesis: Being a dick to children!
Angeal: A snapping turtle biting the tip of your penis—HEY! WHERE ARE YOU—Cloud, sit on Zack so he doesn't escape.
Zack: I'M GOING TO DIE.
Cloud: Sephiroth, you're next.
Sephiroth: I feel that I need more context to provide an accurate answer.
Angeal: I FEEL THAT I NEED TO REARRANGE YOUR FACE WITH A TIRE HAMMER TO GET YOU TO PLAY PROPERLY.
Genesis: AH-HA! YOU SAID WE HAD TO BEHAVE!
Angeal: WE'RE NOT FIGHTING. WE'RE BEING CIVIL TO EACH OTHER.
Sephiroth: You're red in the face. That suggests internalized anger.
*Angeal rips off his other boot and throws it at Sephiroth*
Cloud: Zack, now you. What's the gift that keeps on giving?
Zack, sobbing: Sephiroth's mother's breasts.
*Sephiroth puts Masamune on the table*
*Zack screams and sobs louder*
Genesis: UGH! WHY DIDN'T I GET ANY SEPHIROTH THEMED ONES??? HOW IS THIS FAIR???
Cloud: Zack, another point to you.
*Genesis flies at Cloud but Angeal and Sephiroth hold him back*
Genesis: THIS IS BULLSHIT. I'M AT A DISADVANTAGE.
Sephiroth: Angeal, you were wrong. Genesis is the one crying because he's losing.
Angeal: CAN WE JUST FINISH THE GAME ALREADY? ZACK, STOP CRYING. SEPHIROTH ISN'T GOING TO HURT YOU.
*Sephiroth is sharpening his sword and smiling sweetly at Zack*
Zack, sniffling: I only have one card left and it's not about Sephiroth's mother. Maybe I'm safe now!
Cloud: Good. Next round. "What did Sephiroth bring back from his trip to the labs?"
*Zack sobs loudly as he holds up a card that reads "AN OEDIPUS COMPLEX"
Sephiroth: THAT'S IT
*Sephiroth dives across the table and grabs Zack by the neck. Zack is screaming. Angeal is trying to pull them apart*
Cloud: Zack wins.
Genesis: FUCK ALL OF THIS.
*Genesis breaks the table in half*
*Lazard pokes his head back in the room*
Lazard: ALRIGHT! NO MORE CARDS AGAINST HUMANITY. YOU PEOPLE CAN'T HAVE SHIT.
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thebloodredraven · 4 months ago
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"He's more of a brother to me than you ever were to him."
- Naruto, talking to Itachi about Sasuke
I'm rewatching Naruto as a whole because I'm introducing it to my friend, and I like to watch it every few years as I gain new life experience to get a new perspective of something I've been watching since I was a little kid. I've never finished the series past the very beginning of the war arc, though (working on it!).
We're up to the Tenchi Bridge mission in Shippuden and I have some thoughts on how remarkably similar Naruto and Itachi are, specifically when it comes to their shared trait of unintentionally dehumanizing Sasuke and viewing him as a possession, and an object to obtain, rather than a person with his own autonomy and free will. I also kind of wanna go into how Kakashi and Sakura (kinda) were probably the only people to love him as he was but still ultimately failed him, and how all of them drove him away.
Disclaimer: These are all my own opinions and you're under no obligation to agree with any of it. If any of what I have to say bothers you, you're more than welcome to exit the post at any time and ignore me instead of sending hate mail and leaving heinous comments. Anything you have to say in response can be said respectfully. Thanks!
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In episode 41 of Naruto Shippuden, there's a scene where Naruto is in his own mind as he's transforming into the Nine Tailed Fox (Kurama). In this scene, he sees an apparition of Sasuke walking away from him and when he tries to go after him, water floods all around him and he can't get to him. He's falling into his own darkness and giving in to Kurama's influence.
During this scene, he says, "I am weak, so my words don't reach [Sasuke]. Because I am weak, I can't win his recognition. So, whatever happens I must become stronger so that the bond I've finally forged will not be severed. So that Sasuke won't sever the connection with me."
It can be said that the entire reason Naruto is so obsessed with getting Sasuke back is because, as he's stated himself multiple times, he can't confidently fulfill his goal of becoming Hokage if he can't even save his friend from darkness. His entire self-worth rests in the validity that others provide him because he was deprived of that his entire life, and he represses his emotions to the extreme.
It's why he's irrational and dangerous to be around and difficult to work with; it's why he foregoes any plans or strategies people have on almost every single mission he's been sent on from the time he became a ninja till the war and is always the first to attack in these scenarios; it's why he's willing to start giving into the power of Kurama until Yamato tells him how he injured Sakura and how he needed to prove his strength with his OWN power: his need to prove himself to others and get that validation he craves trumps over anything, and anyone, else.
When it comes to Itachi, he told Sasuke that in order to become strong enough to kill him he needed to sever his bonds with those closest to him.
Opposite of Naruto, Itachi kept Sasuke at a distance at all times because of his own goals to rid the world of war and get into a position where he can render ninja obsolete (via Itachi Retsuden). His tunnel vision when it came to his personal goals caused him to disregard how his actions affected other people because he saw it as a means to an end, including slaughtering his own clan and becoming a double spy in the Akatsuki.
When Naruto and Itachi run into each other during the Gaara Retrieval arc, they get to talking about Sasuke.
When Itachi asks why Naruto is so obsessed with Sasuke, Naruto replies with the quote that leads into this post.
I was talking to my friend about Naruto's possessive nature when it comes to Sasuke and that led into be thinking about how Itachi also viewed Sasuke.
I came to the conclusion that neither of these people viewed Sasuke as someone capable of having his own autonomy, his own philosophy, and as someone deserving of having his own personal goals and feelings recognized. Sasuke was always within his full right to end up as hateful and as angry and as hurt as he was, but because Naruto and Itachi care more about their own goals and their own proximity to Sasuke, they don't view him as someone that can make his own decisions; that's why I feel Naruto had such a negative reaction when Orochimaru reminded Naruto that Sasuke came to him of his own free will after Naruto was screaming at him to "give him back." Even after three years, he cannot stomach or accept the fact that Sasuke made the choice to leave him, and it pushes him further into his obsession.
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Sasuke made his own decision to go to Orochimaru because he felt like no one else around him genuinely tried to understand what he was going through. They, essentially, just wanted him to let go of his pain and keep living a "happy" life with them. How could they understand when they view him in such a way? Orochimaru was up front with his intentions and his plans for Sasuke from the very beginning. Yes, he was manipulated by the curse mark, but Orochimaru wouldn't have chosen him to begin with if he didn't see what was already in Sasuke.
He was very up front with the fact that he needed Sasuke's body in order to continue living as a powerful being and find immortality. He told Sasuke what the game plan was and knew that in order to get what he wanted, he needed to give Sasuke what everyone else had denied him: a choice. He saw a gifted child filled with jealousy and hatred, which was something fostered by his need to compete with Itachi and Naruto and gave him exactly what he wanted.
Sasuke's entire clan was annihilated by the one person he sought the most validation from. After that heartbreak, he was forced to live in that same Uchiha compound all alone.
While he was dealing with the trauma of that, every single person around him was idealizing him and treating him in a way that probably drove him further into isolation: he was constantly bombarded with girls that were crushing on him and wanting him for his talents and good looks, and the adults around him saw him as the perfect student that didn't need too much attention, so no one paid attention to his needs outside of what he provided in skill. Even though they very much provided the validation and attention he was seeking from his family, no one really bothered to see him.
Naruto was seemingly the only person that actively saw what he was going through because he also knew what that loneliness looked like, but his rivalry with him mattered more than that connection. That's why physical fighting is their form of intimacy. People propped him up on a pedestal from the time he was a small child and when that position was threatened by the least talented kid in his class, it threw him into a spiral (which is another topic).
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Getting back to Itachi, he never saw Sasuke as his own person at any point in his life. I know he loved him in his own way. In some ways, he was the somewhat attentive father Sasuke should have had.
But Itachi was not always a good brother. Not in the least.
He always saw him as someone to protect, to coddle, to keep ignorant, keep below him because he subconsciously did not want Sasuke to become a shinobi and go through the same trauma he did (Itachi Retsuden). Eventually, that was no longer an option and that's when the distance happened (in conjunction to what was going on in his own life as a tool that others wanted to use for their own goals).
After Itachi slaughtered the clan, he reinforced Sasuke's lack of autonomy by giving him his own means to an end.
Itachi saw Sasuke as a tool -- a means to his own long, drawn-out suicide.
Naruto viewed Sasuke as the ultimate validation to his own goal to become Hokage.
Neither of them saw Sasuke for who he was or who he wanted to be -- for who he could have been.
I'll even add Sakura to this mix because she has a complicated relationship with him as well. She did end up with him and was his friend before anything, but she’s idolized him to the point of nausea since she was a little girl. She was obsessed with becoming the object of his affection. She had an unhealthy amount of loyalty to him just like Naruto (even though I'd argue she wasn't nearly as bad as Naruto was). She changed her own opinions of something to cater to what he thought so she could seem more favorable to him. For most of their childhood, she dehumanized him and didn't see him as anything other than a love interest for herself.
However.
You can see her slowly taking off the rose-colored glasses in the first part of Naruto during the Chuunin exams at two major points: when she chastised him for acting like a coward and freezing up while Orochimaru beat Naruto, and when she finally cut her hair in the middle of battle (context: she heard that Sasuke loved long hair and that's why she always kept it long).
Beyond that, she actually paid attention to his well-being and noticed when something was wrong or when he was hiding something and brought her concerns up in a non-aggressive manor. At the time, he was aggressive and agitated by her actions, and he reacts as such. Genuine concern is hard to come by for him, so how was he supposed to react?
But clearly, he recognized it and appreciated it because it's been confirmed through his Japanese VA AND English VA AND the novels that Sasuke was starting to fall in love with Sakura long before he realized it and was full of guilt when he left her on that bench.
When the time came to acknowledge that he was an internationally recognized terrorist and killer, the life drained from her face because she realized she had to put her feelings to the side and do what needed to be done.
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Because she was willing to accept the reality of who he was and see him for what he'd become. And even though she was unsuccessful, she took steps to have Naruto forget about Sasuke and kill him herself.
At this point, he's learned to use the same tactics people used on him his entire life: only keep people around you that further your own goals. This time, he was in charge. When he formed his own gang, he encountered that dehumanizing behavior again when Karin constantly threw herself at him and practically begged to sleep with him. It was only after Itachi died and he decided to take down the Leaf that he was able to finally have a goal of his own that was solely for him.
I won't go into it too much because I'm already pushing 2k words, but it's worth noting that Sasuke was pushed to do crime because that was the only period of time where he was allowed to make his own decisions and have his own autonomy enough to pursue his OWN goals before that was swiftly taken away by The Akatsuki to....you guessed it, further their own goals.
Sasuke has never been the idol the people in proximity to him saw him as, from any person's point of view. Not Naruto, not Itachi, not Sakura, not Orochimaru, no one. Obito may have been the one closest to seeing Sasuke as he was, but he immediately took advantage of him.
They all wanted to possess him and obtain him in different ways, and one of the reasons I love his dynamic with Kakashi so much is because Kakashi did grow up very similarly to Sasuke, except his own dad died of his own accord and Sasuke’s father was taken away from him.
One of the main ways Kakashi has always been able to connect to Sasuke was the fact that throughout his life he’s had to watch every single person he’s ever cared about die around him. And for a while he was that cold detached person that didn’t want to keep up with friends, didn’t want to be around people, minded his business, and he was mean to everybody.
The whole reason he gave Sasuke that speech about choosing his own path right before he went to Orochimaru was because he intimately understood what he was going through emotionally.
Naruto and Sakura can say they get where he’s coming from, but Kakashi is really the only person able to empathize with what Sasuke was going through. And if Kakashi hadn’t been consistently sent out on missions and was able to take care of his kids the way he was supposed to, there was a slight chance Sasuke could have still healed from his trauma even with the manipulation of the curse mark. 
People forget that Kakashi very well could have ended up on the same path as Sasuke, even without Orochimaru’s influence, because he went through some very dark things. He had every reason to be a very dark character, but he didn’t.
He ultimately failed when he spoke to Sasuke as a soldier and not the traumatized child that was acting out on his pain.
In summary, Sasuke only went to the lengths that he did because of the people around him treating him as a possession to keep or as an object to obtain rather than treating him as an actual person. Sasuke goes through some of the most dehumanizing relationships, and I think that’s what irritates me so much about Naruto as a character.
Because he treats Sasuke, and he talks about him, like he’s a possession to obtain and because someone else “has” him, he has to get him back because Sasuke is his and his only. This extends to other characters around him, as well.
That lack of autonomy was what drove Sasuke away because he very clearly wanted to be seen as his own person but no one around him was willing to do that because they saw him as a means to their own goals. It's why Sasuke developed a "do you really think I give a fuck about what you want" personality trait.
All that being said, do I think they all genuinely loved him? Yes.
Ultimately, we have to remember that these are all small-town children with very little experience of the outside world and that the adults around him grew up in the same conditions because that's what the politics of that world demanded.
I have my opinions about the manga's imperialist propaganda, use of child soldiers, Sasuke's emotional development and how people chronically misunderstand complex PTSD, fascism, queer baiting, etc. but that's another post. Several others, actually.
Believe it or not, I had to shave down a lot of what I originally had in order to keep this relatively short LMAO
If y'all read all of this, THANK YOU! I rarely ever flesh out my thoughts about this show like this and it felt refreshing to get off my chest. Feel free to send me DMs and RESPECTFULLY speak your own mind in the comments/reblogs! ♥
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