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withwritersblock · 3 days

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Knowing me, Knowing You

~Knowing me, Knowing You by ABBA~ Author's Note: requeted, sorta. it got angsty some how? Summary: Luke goes to his daughter's youth hockey game Warnings: none Word Count: 1,733 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

Luke has always felt guilty for missing his daughter’s hockey games. Zoey was seven and had games almost every weekend. But all of her games overlapped with his. She would FaceTime him before and after the games. She would be red hot and dripping in sweat, her curly hair sprawled all over her features.

She was a center like her Uncle Jack and was the top scorer on her team. There was not an ounce of surprise with that fact as she was a Hughes after all. Y/N always made an effort to record as many videos as possible, so Luke was able to be involved as much as he can. He still felt guilty for not being able to go.

Except today. It was the mini championship for her league that she was apart of and Luke had the week off for All-Star break. This year none of the Hughes boys were a part of the All-Star tournament which meant all three of them would be there to support Zoey.

Zoey and Y/N were both already at the rink, while Luke was trying to drag his brothers out of the house. “The game starts in an hour, with traffic we’ll barely make it on time for the first period!” he shouted as he took a hold of his keys. Quinn groaned out as he walked out of the guest bedroom.

“Well it’s not my fault that Jackaboy needs to take forty minutes on his hair!” Quinn ran his hand across his chin. Jack huffed as he stood up from the couch.

“You could’ve used Luke’s bathroom!” Jack expressed as all three of the boys walked towards the door to leave the house.

The drive to the rink took forty minutes and Luke was freaking out the entire time. He parked the car and instantly hopped out. Quinn and Jack were trailing behind him. Luke promised Zoey that he would be there, and warmups were nearly finished. Zoey had to of thought Luke wasn’t coming.

The three boys walked towards the table, it was a seven dollar entrance fee. Luke pulled up his venmo and venmoed them the twenty-one dollars that was needed to enter. The teenage girl working the table flushed bright red at the sight of the three of them. She nervously added the wristbands to their wrists.

They all took fast steps towards the entrance to the rink. Luke step foot onto the bleachers to see his wife and his parents sitting together a few feet away, “Over here,” he mumbled towards his brothers before he guided his way through the crowded bleacher seats. He sat down beside Y/N, excited rubbing his hands together as stared towards the ice searching for the forty-three on the ice.

“She’s been looking for you,” Y/N mumbled, sadly. He clenched his jaw as he glanced towards his brothers who were sitting beside their dad away from him.

“They took forever to get ready to leave the house, I’m sorry,” he whispered as he leaned towards her, kissing her temple as he ran his hand up and down her back. “How was she before the game?” he asked looking at each of the tiny girls on the ice. His eyes landed on the forty-three skating towards the net, shooting and hitting the glass. Luke watched as her head tilted back as she smacked her stick against the ice.

“She’s having a rough morning,” she crossed her arms over her chest as she watched her little girl look towards the group on the bleachers again. She waved as she saw her dad. Luke smiled widely as he returned the wave. “She’s a little disappointed that you weren’t the one dropping her off,” Y/N let out as she turned her head to the side to meet Luke’s gaze.

Luke took in a sharp breath as he bit his bottom lip. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?”

“Nothing, it’s fine, Luke,”

“Is it?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. She scanned his frustrated features. She clenched his jaw.

“Let’s not do this here,” she mumbled as she shifted her gaze towards the ice. The girls were all skating off the ice to allow the zamboni to clean the ice.

“Seriously, I’m here now,” he muttered defensively.

Y/N huffed, “I’m gonna get a hot chocolate,” she stood up and walked the other direction. Luke watched her walk away clenching his jaw. He took a deep breath as he tilted his head back.

“Everything okay there?” Ellen asked leaning towards Luke. He shifted his gaze towards his mom. He shrugged. He shook his head as he stared towards the zamboni. “What did you do?” she asked. Luke rolled his eyes.

“I’m missing out on a lot,” he said keeping his gaze towards the ice.

“What do you mean?” Ellen asked.

“This is the first game of Zoey’s I’ve seen this year. It seemed like every game she had this year landed on a roadtrip,” Luke explained as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Y/N does her best at recording the games but it’s not the same,”

“What does Zoey think?” Ellen asked. Luke shook his head as he shifted his gaze towards his mom.

“She puts on a tough face but I know my girl,” he took a deep breath, “I know she’s sad that I’m not here that often.”

Ellen pouted as she wrapped her arm around his back. “She’s a tough kid, Lukey, she understands. She looks up to you and your career.”

“I don’t think my wife understands,” he mumbled just as he shifted his gaze to see Y/N walking back towards them. She was carrying three hot chocolates. Luke quickly stood up and met her halfway, taking two from her hands.

“Thank you,” she smiled politely. Luke kept one as he handed his mom the other. Y/N sat down at the same time as Luke. He rested his hand onto her thigh as he looked towards her. She took a deep breath as she met his eye, “That was unfair of me, I’m sorry. I know you’re trying,” He swallowed hard as he leaned towards her, kissing her cheek.

“I’m sorry too. I know I can do more to help, I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing this alone,” he said as he scanned her features. She took a shaky breath as she nodded.

It took another ten minutes before the girls reappeared on the ice. Most of the girls were only seven, but the energy in the small ice rink was electric. It was the league’s championship game afterall. She excitedly tapped her hand against Luke’s leg as Zoey skated to take the center draw.

The game in itself was slow as their little legs could only get them so far. But Luke didn’t take his eyes off the little forty-three for a single second for her first minute on the ice. He watched her skate the puck back into the zone. Her head up, not eyeing the puck like she used to. Y/N reached for Luke’s hand and he excitedly interlocked their fingers.

She shot the puck on the goal and it trickled into the net slowly. It was the fourth shot on net the girls had done. Luke threw his hand in the air as he cheered. He watched her skate away from the net and bow, exactly like he does after he scores. His mouth fell open as he laughed.

“That’s a new one!” Y/N let out as she hugged Luke.

“Atta-girl Hughesy!” their head coach shouted as she took a seat on the bench. Luke smiled to himself, remembering the days when that was his nickname.

“Luke,” Quinn hollered after him. Luke shifted his gaze towards his eldest brother, “She’s gonna be a PWHL star with that wrister,” he smiled widely.

“She wants to play for Minnesota,” he let out with a smirk, “She likes the color purple.” The entire row of the Hughes family started laughing.

It took another few minutes before Zoey was back on the ice, the game was now tied. It didn’t take long before the puck was back on her stick, “Come on, baby girl,” Luke let out as he straightened his frame to get a better look. Her teammate was wide open beside the net and she tried to pass the puck. She made the pass and her teammate scored.

“Let’s go!” Luke cheered. “What a pass, Zo,” he let out as he looked towards Y/N. She smiled widely as she met his gaze. He took a shaky breath as the realization of what he’s been missing hit him.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked quickly as she reached her hand over, running her fingers through the ends of his hair.

“I swear we just put her in skates and now-” he trailed off. She pouted as she watched him blink back the sudden emotions.

“I know, my love,” she let out, leaning her head against his shoulder as she shifted her gaze back to the ice. Luke followed in pursuit to see Zoey have the puck all alone in the the offensive zone.

“Shoot it, Hughesy!” her head coach yelled, she listened and shot the puck on the net and scored again. She threw her arms in the air as she watched the puck go in.

“That’s my girl!” Luke let out as he clapped his hands excitedly.

The game ended with a 4-3 win for her tiny team. After the game, still in their gear the girls met them in the lobby of the ice rink. Zoey took the cage off of her head as she stumbled towards Luke. Luke smiled widely as he knealed down, letting her jump into his arms.

Her curly hair was messy as her hair was falling out of the braid Y/N done. “You did so good, Zo,” he let out as he lifted her up in the air, a gigle fell from her lips.

“Did you see me bow?” she asked with a wide smile. He barked out a laugh.

“It was awesome!” he let out as he wiped the stray hairs away from her forehead.

“Just like you,” she mumbled. Luke pouted as he nodded, pulling her head to rest against his shoulder.

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ysrjune · 3 days

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DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN DILF!ANAKIN

Okay now that we got that out of the way 😇

“Keep going baby, Daddy needs you.” PURRING

You knew being involved with Anakin was wrong. He had 2 kids and is way older than you, but you couldn't help it. Not when his dick was the best you've ever had. Something about an experienced older man was so compelling to you, never leaving room for anything or anyone else. You'd babysit his twins here and there when he or his ex-wife wasn't able to because they were busy. Luke and Leia liked you a lot, so it was never a problem to take care of them

Today was a regular Monday afternoon. The kids came from school, and Anakin was home because he didn't work on Mondays. He invited you over to spend the night because he was feeling lonely. The twins were downstairs watching TV and doing whatever while you and Anakin lay on his bed, teasing him about how horny he was all day.

“Are you gonna shut up about it yet?” He asked, looking any and everywhere but into your eyes. “No, you’re never going to hear the end of it. It's your fault for telling me.” You laugh at him, pinching his cheek. Anakin groans and finally looks at you. “Why’re you always being so mean to me, darlin’. ‘M always so nice to you.. giving you everything you want without question.”

It was true. Anakin spoiled you with either gifts or his attention even if you didn't exactly ask for it. “Come on, baby, I'm not asking for much, am I? Know you love my cock in your pretty mouth.” He's so smooth with his words, what he said didn't even sound dirty. “Please, please, please, angel. I need you.” Anakin pulls your hand to feel the buldge underneath his black sweats.

The way he was begging for it made you wet. You'd never seen him be this needy. How could you say no after his plead. So, ofcourse you stroked his cock for him. Soft moans escaped his mouth, along with a few grunts and groans. He thrusted up into your fist, announcing that he was about to cum but you didn't let him. Instead, you removed your hand and waited a couple of seconds before taking him in your mouth.

He gasps and places his right hand on your head, staring down at you, admiring the sight only he ever got to see. “Do it like that, sweetie.” Anakin whispers after you ran your tongue along the slit of his tip. “huh—aww, yeah.. yeah, like that. suck it good.” he moans followed by a clutch to your hair. “fuck, you know how to make daddy feel good, isn't that right, sweet girl?”

“Yeah, my baby knows how to make me beg for more. Such a smart girl I have, hm?” he continued, starting to slide himself in and out your mouth. “You're so fucking precious. You better not let any other guy touch you, do you understand me, baby? No other guy is worthy of you.” Anakin starts panting, coming close to the edge. “They won't bother to learn what you like. They don't care about you like I do.” His voice cracks at the end, making your pussy grip onto nothing.

“Mmph—get on top of me. now.” you do as he says, swiftly taking off all your clothes and hover yourself over his lap. “Whatchu waitin’ for? Do you need me to fuckin’ teach you again? Need me to show you how to ride my dick?” He teased with a smirk. “No..” You sheepishly respond, now sinking yourself onto him with a whine. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He mouths, holding onto your hips. “Don't hurt yourself, pretty baby, s’okay to go slow.”

you nod after finally fitting all of him in. “I—mphm—Anak—” he cups your face gently with his hand. “Shh, it's okay, my baby. I'll do it, s’okay. Let me make you feel good, okay? Dont you worry your pretty little head about anything.” He assures you and kisses your forehead before thrusting his hips into your pussy while he moans. “Mm, fuck. That feel good, sweetie? You feelin’ alright?” He asks, looking up at you.

“Faster..” is what you decided to reply with. Anakin was stunned. “Are you sure? I don't wanna hurt you, baby. Maybe we should just take it sl—”, “Please, daddy? need it so bad. need you to fucking ruin me.” Calling himself daddy to you was one thing.. but you saying it? God, he could cum right there. And as you asked, he finally went faster. Only by a little bit, though. He was still concerned about hurting you.

He moaned so much while watching his cock slide in and out of you, hearing all your moans and the wet noises your conjoined sexes made. “Ani, let me do it, please.” You asked nicely, in hopes he'd agree. And of course he let you. He was feeling too good to even forget he told you not to worry about it. “take that dick, baby. cmon. show me how bad she needs it.” talking about your pussy as if it was an individual being.

fulfilling your prior request, you rode him as fast as you wanted, feeling so good. so fast it made Anakin whine and let out one high pitched whimper. “Ah, yeah, baby, fuck..” to you, every noise either of you made was loud, but in reality it wasn't really that loud. It wasn't exactly quiet, but it wasn't loud either, just in case the kids were nearby, they wouldn't hear.

“yeah, keep doin’ it like that, baby,” he pants, watching his pre-cum and your juices go up and down the base of his cock and pooling at it. the way the noise sounded so sticky and wet everytime you bounced on and off of him turned him on so much. “daddy needs you.” and with that, you came all over his cock, riding out your high with whimpers slipping out your lips. feeling your tighten around him caused him to get super close.

“please let me cum in you, baby, mmph—lemme make you a mommy, uh?” followed by those cute ‘uh, uh, uh’ kinds of moans, and suddenly he came in you.

#june replies ౨ৎ #anakin smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #hayden christensen #hayden christensen fic #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen imagine #dilf!anakin

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thetriumphantpanda · 14 hours

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close to you | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Nine

Chapter Summary | A week of not hearing from Javi since he ran out has you tearing your hair out, so you throw yourself into your work as a distraction, with catastrophic consequences.

Chapter Warnings | mentions of drugs and the drug trade, alcohol consumption, threatening language, violence, blood, descriptions of a head injury and concussion, Javier Peña to the rescue, soft!Javi.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | I am forever appreciative of how patient you guys are for updates of this series! Thank you for hanging in there whilst my muse and creativity ebbs and flows, I love you all! We're getting towards the conclusion of this little story, with only a few chapters left so I hope you guys are still enjoying this! If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You wonder when staring at the work in front of you might actually yield something worth writing about. It’s all you’ve done since you picked up this stupid story and decided to chase it. Staring at the pages on your desk has become all the more common in the week since Javi ran out on you. He’s avoided your calls to his phone, you’ve not seen him around town, and the one time you decided to call the house, Chucho answered and with the most sincere voice you’d ever heard, told you he wasn’t in but that he promised he’d ask him to call you when he got back. That had been two days ago, so you’d practically given up all hope of ever hearing from him again.

For the first couple of days, you’d cursed yourself, wondering why you’d kept any of that stuff in the first place. Newspaper clippings and annotated notes about everything he and his team had done in Colombia. You didn’t need it anymore, thesis done, completed, and with a better mark than you could ever have hoped for. But until you’d seen him in the flesh, knew he was back for good and safe in Texas, it was the only way to feel close to him. Stupid for sure. But then the anger had set in - he’d no right to rifle through your drawers, pick up your notebooks and thumb through them. The barrage of different emotions was hard to deal with, and at the very base level, you missed him, you wanted him back, and you wanted to explain everything to him - that’s incredibly hard when he won’t answer his fucking phone though.

Turning your attention back to your work, you try and focus. You’ve met dead end after dead end with this stupid story and there really is only one place left for you to go. If it’s not Tyler then it has to be someone else in the family that’s involved. You can’t imagine it’s head of the family, so that really only leaves Tyler’s brother. It might be stupid and you might make a terrible enemy out of the mayor’s family, but there’s something else going on here and whatever it is, you’re going to get to the bottom of it, no matter how.

You can still never get over the size of the Johnson family home. Richard and his wife had two sons, one their pride, the other, not so much, but if you looked at their house, you’d think they had at least twelve children. No family needed this many rooms, you think, as you walk up the driveway.

It’s the early afternoon and you can see Garrett’s car parked in front of the house. Tyler will be at work, as will Richard, and you’re pretty sure their mother is never at home. You don’t really know what it is she does, but it’s some form of charitable work that involves travelling more than it does time at home.

You take a deep breath and ring the bell, waiting the appropriate amount of time before ringing it again. It’s a huge house after all, it must take a while to get from anywhere to the front door. A few seconds later, the door opens, and Garrett is stood in front of you, dressed in dress pants and a shirt that has the arms rolled up to the elbows. He smiles at you and opens the door a bit wider, invites you in - it’s much warmed than the reception you got from his brother.

“Lovely to see you,” He smiles, guiding you through the foyer and into the kitchen, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thank you.” You smile back, waiting for him to put a glass in front of you, topped up with water and fresh ice.

“I assume you’re here from the paper?” He asks, leaning cooly against the kitchen counter.

“That’s right,” You nod, sipping at the water, “Has Tyler spoken to you recently?”

Garrett shakes his head, “No, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks actually.”

You hum, nodding your head, thankful that you have the upper hand of surprise still - that this part of the family don’t know you’re sniffing around looking for a reason that one of their houses was used as some form of drug den.

“How have you been since Dylan died?” You ask, “I know you were really good friends.”

It’s a question that makes sense, they were very good friends, and although it’s been a while, you’re hoping your feigned concern for his mental welfare might make him open up.

“It’s been hard,” He starts, “He was my best friend, and to suddenly not have him around anymore…” He trails off, “I miss him.”

You nod, hoping the look of concern you think you’ve got across your face is projecting enough to make him feel like he can trust you.

“Was he the reason your dad has started being heavier with drugs in town?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Garrett nods, “He saw how fucked up it made me to lose my friend and decided enough was enough, that someone needed to do something to fix the trouble we’ve been having in town for years.”

There’s another nod from you, “Makes sense,” You offer, “Not really working very well though, is it?”

“These things take time.” He offers, in that perfectly practiced politician way that they always answer things.

“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase Garrett,” You sigh, “That house in town that got raided recently? We’ve been looking into it and it all leads back to you, to your family, and it doesn’t matter who I ask, no-one knows why that place was being used as a drug den, but someone in this family knows exactly why.”

Garrett scoffs, “You’ll want to talk to my brother about that.”

“Well, that’s the thing Garrett,” You speak, “I did, and that man is clean as a whistle, he hasn’t taken drugs in at least a year, and the last time he was at the house, it was clear of anything,” You shrug, “I can’t imagine your dad being involved in anything like this, so that just leaves you.”

You can see his demeanour change almost immediately, he’s uncomfortable, moving from foot to foot and you can see the start of perspiration on his forehead.

“You’re telling me you think I’m involved in something?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

He pushes himself from the counter he’s been leaning against, takes a few steps towards you, trying to intimidate you, but you know you’re pushing in the right direction, he wouldn’t be reacting like this if you were barking up the wrong tree.

“Where’s your evidence?” He asks.

“Maybe you’ll have to buy the paper to find out?”

“Listen here you little bitch,” He spits, pointing his finger in your face, “You ought to be careful about this, you think this is just me?” He asks, stepping even closer to you, making your breath catch in your throat, “You think you publish this story and it’ll just be me you have to worry about? You’re dead wrong, publish whatever story you’re planning and you’ll have a rain of fucking fire to deal with from people you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.”

“So, it was you then?” You can help but smirk, having caught him redhanded in a confession, the recorder in your bag that you’d pressed on before he’d answered the door your little secret.

You watch some kind of fury flick over his eyes as he grits his teeth, his hands pressed into your shoulders to push you back, “Stupid little girl.” He says as he pushes, but it’s a lot harder than you’d anticipated and it makes you lose your balance, falling backward.

It all happens in a blur, the side of your head makes contact with the corner of the kitchen island, pain spreading almost immediately across your forehead, vision blurring as your backside hits the floor. You’re sort of aware of something warm and wet dripping down your cheek, which you brush away with the back of your hand as you try and quickly reorientate yourself. Then you feel a hand wrap around your arm and a presence next to you, not quite all there enough to push it away.

“Oh shit,” You hear Garrett speak next to you, “Shit, shit shit,” He’s touching your face now, “I'm sorry, I- oh god - I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

You groan, letting your head tip back against the cool marble of the kitchen island, “Am I-” You struggle to speak, “Am I bleeding?”

“Oh god-” Garrett mutters, “I’m going to be sick.”

And then he’s gone, the sound of his shoes clipping against the floor as he runs to God knows where, leaving you disorientated and bleeding on his kitchen floor. You know you need to get out of here, slowly moving yourself just enough to push yourself to your feet, hands gripping the counter as you reach for your bag. You’re dizzy as you walk towards the door, looking down at the floor because as soon as you look up, you feel like you’re going to throw up and pass out. You can see yourself leaving small drops of blood on the floor as you move - a trail that follows you all the way down the driveway and to your car. You fumble with your keys, dropping them on the floor. When you bend over to try and pick them up, your vision goes fuzzy before you can grab them from the ground. You know you can’t drive like this.

In the haze of confusion you look around, a little way down the street you spot a phone box. It’s slow going, but you make it, pulling open the door, leaning against the glass wall, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and ease the ache behind your eyes. You shuffle through your bag to find your wallet, pulling out a handful of coins that you push into the slot. You think about phoning your father, but realise there’s only one person you want right now. Despite having his number memorised, you pull the worn card from your wallet, mainly to make sure that the haze of confusion doesn’t make you dial the wrong number. You drag your thumb over the faded number, watching a smear of blood cover it, and then press the number into the dialling pad, listening to it start to ring.

“Please Javi,” You whisper, “Please answer.”

You’re about to lose hope, expecting the phone to ring out, but through some form of divine intervention, the ringing stops and you hear the voice you’ve craved all week.

“Peña?”

“Oh Javi,” You sigh out in relief, feeling the prick of tears behind your eyes, “Help me.”

“Cariño?”

“Javi please, I need you.”

“What’s happened?” You can hear his tone change, concern and something else you can’t quite place, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, I just-” The ache behind your eyes is making you tired, “I need you to come and get me.”

“Has something happened?”

“Yes,” You reply, “I’m so tired Javi, I can’t drive.”

“Where are you?”

“The mayor’s house,” You reply, “Well- no - I'm in the phone box down the road.”

“You stay right there, okay?” He’s frantic on the other end of the phone, you can tell.

“Please hurry.”

He’s beside himself as he drives from the ranch and into town. A week of avoiding you, of avoiding his feelings towards you, and you’re hurt. He still can’t think about what happened. He doesn’t even know why he’d answered the phone this time - he’d avoided answering anything that had come through on his phone since he’d run out on you before, but there’s something today that made him pick up, and by God is he pleased he did. He doesn’t think he could have lived with himself if he’d let you call and left you hurt and injured in the middle of nowhere.

He thinks of all the other women throughout his life that he's let down. Lorraine and the way he left her, Helena and the way she risked herself for him, for the promise of a fucking visa, and paid the price. Most women in his life ended up hurt, emotionally or physically, and it was becoming evident to him that you were no different.

Not knowing, and not caring about how many speed restrictions he breaks, he makes it to the phone box in record time, cutting the engine and slamming the door behind him. He takes four or five big steps to the phone box, tearing open the door to find you slumped on the floor, eyes fluttering open at the disturbance. He takes a deep breath, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“Cariño, it’s me,” He speaks softly, “Can you hear me?”

He takes your face in his hands, turns it towards the quickly fading light, finding the cut on your forehead. The blood has dried and scabbed over, but there’s a trail of crusting blood down your cheek and side of your neck. He thinks of Helena in this moment, about draping his jacket over her naked body, cradling her to his body, reluctantly handing her over to a paramedic, not knowing what would come of her.

“Javi?” Your voice is quiet, but your eyes are looking at him, glassed over, but at least you recognise him.

“That’s me,” He speaks softly, “Are you okay?”

“Tired,” You mumble, and then you shake your head in his hands, “Head hurts.”

“Shall we move you?” He asks, knowing he can’t leave you here, “Come here.”

Letting go of your face, he runs his palms down your arms to where your hands are clasped together. He gently pries open your fingers and takes hold of the card there, holding it up. It’s the card he’d given you with his number on, edges torn and worn. He can clearly see where you've run your fingers over the printed text, and where it's sat in your purse, pulled out and slotted bacon whenever you've needed him. He tries to take it, but your hand clasps over it again.

“Don’t,” You whisper, “It’s mine, don’t take it.”

“It’s okay, Cariño,” He replies, “I’ll keep it safe, just let me have it whilst we get you into the car.”

“My keys,” You mumble as he stands up, leaning down despite the protest of his knees and his back, “I dropped them.”

He’s scooping you up, not quite able to carry you, but able to lean you against his side to walk you to the passenger side of his truck.

“Where did you drop them?” He asks, settling you into the passenger seat, leaning across you to clip your seatbelt in.

“My car-” Your head lolls to the side, eyes hooded as you look at him, “On the ground.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek, shutting the door gently. He finds your keys on the ground by your car, and then after checking that the doors are still locked, he shoves the keys into his pocket and focuses his attention back to you.

The drive out of town is slower, Javi conscious that he doesn’t want to jostle you too much. Each corner he turns makes you groan. He had considered taking you to your own home, but he decides instead to take you back to the ranch. He pulls up, noticing the lights on in the living room. He knows he’s going to have questions from his father, but he doesn’t worry about that, instead he focuses on getting you out of the truck and into the house.

There’s a look from Chucho when he bursts through the front door, but Javi gives him a clipped shake of his head and instead walks you up the stairs and into his room. He sits you down on the side of the bed, kissing your forehead as he grabs some supplies from his bathroom - a warm, damp washcloth and his bag of first aid supplies, put together by Chucho when he’d come back to the ranch - his dad not convinced he wouldn’t injure himself with the manual labour.

“Hey, cariño?” He speaks softly, on his knees in front of you, “Look at me?”

You do, but your eyes are barely open. He works quickly, wiping away the crusted blood from your face first before he turns his attention to the actual cut. Once he’s cleaned it a little, he can see it’s not as deep as he’d anticipated. He brushes it with an antiseptic wipe, soothing you when it stings enough to make you gasp, and then covers it with a small plaster.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as he eases you back on the bed, head down on his pillows.

“What for?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair from your face.

“Scaring you off.”

“Oh hermosa,” He breathes, feeling guilt pool in his stomach, nut not ready to quite face the conversation of what really made him run that night, “I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”

He listens to you groan in approval, moving your body to get a little more comfortable.

“What happened today?” He asks quietly, trying to keep you awake so he knows who did this to you.

“Went to the house,” You speak, punctuated with a yawn, “Asked Garrett about the house.”

It’s almost like you get a second wind, trying to sit up, but he knows you need to stay still, so he gently pushes you back down.

“It’s him Javi,” You groan, “He’s the one dealing the drugs.”

“Shhhhh,” It’s the only thing he can think to do, “Just rest, cariño, we can talk later.”

Javi sits there for longer than he needs. You’re softly snoring within minutes, but he still sits there to make sure you’re out for the count. When he’s sure you’re settled and still breathing, he heads downstairs, ignoring his father’s knowing look as he pours himself a generous amount of whiskey.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Javi shrugs, “I’m not sure,” He answers honestly, “It’s new.”

“Not that new,” Chucho huffs, “You were always shit at sneaking around,” He picks up his own drink, “Saw you after my birthday.”

Javi tips his head back and can’t help but chuckle because it’s true, he was never good at keeping things from his dad. He just hopes you’ve both done a better job at keeping things from your parents.

“You know what you’re doing with her?”

It’s a question he doesn’t really know how to answer, mulling over the answer in his mind before he lets his mouth speak.

“I just know I want to keep her safe,” He speaks, “And that I think I might love her.”

Javi watches as Chucho’s mouth grows into a smile, a small nod given in his direction.

“Will she be okay?”

Javi nods, “I think so yes, hit her head pretty hard, but I think after she’s slept she’ll be okay.”

Chucho pushes himself from his chair, draining his almost-empty cup. He puts it in the sink and then puts a warm hand on Javi’s shoulder with a squeeze.

“I just want you to be happy, finally,” He says, “That’s all that matters.”

Javi watches as he walks away, off to his room to sleep, and speaks into the silence of the empty kitchen once he’s gone, “Thanks, dad.”

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yarrayora · 4 hours

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Idk how to explain properly, but I’m a really big fan of the dynamic you portray between Marcille and Falin. I’ve always loved . idk how to say.. divorce? trouble-in-paradise? arcs/portrayals that look at problems in otp, and yours is super interesting. Sorry if this is weird just wanted to say :)

not weird at all! im flattered, thanks!

i wasnt really into farcille at first, mostly i was just impressed an f/f ship managed to be the fandom's no1, basically proving that when two female characters in a mostly male dominated cast are allowed to bond with each others and be their own characters people will latch on to them

mostly though aro touden siblings is still my no1 and even back then i didnt care about shipping because any type of romantic relationship in dunmeshi is less interesting than the potential of political intrigue the worldbuilding set up (yes, even chilchuck's failing marriage is less interesting to me than how living in the dungeon was safer for the orcs than being neighbors to human civilization) (shocking, i know)

but it all changed when i saw the daydream hour about marcille thinking falin looks cute in feminine clothing while falin herself is obviously uncomfortable with it

i can't sleep. i have to think about this. i have to think about how it's their first love and their first relationship and one is going in blind while the other set up her expectations based on a harlequin romance novel. they are NOT in the same wavelength at all and neither of them are particularly good at communicating their intention, with falin who grew up a convenient kid because she thought it was the least she could do for her family and marcille who frankly speaking was used to being treated as someone superior back at the magic school

thank god kabru exists because who else is going to give them a real advice for their very real relationship? chilchuck will be like "okay just break up" while not seeing the mirror to his own relationship with his runaway wife. senshi, wise as he is, is never in a romantic relationship. laios would be like :((( you guys are fighting? and gets stressed out on his own which makes it even more stressful to the girls. namari is like. "i, uh, please talk to kabru."

anyway theres also the bonus comic about falin inviting marcille to watch daltian clan's opera adaptation and while there is something to say about marcille thinking the humans playing elves doesn't fit her aesthetic (and the difference of societal expectations of dressing up as a different race in dunmeshi universe compared to in ours) all i can think of is that in modern day au where daltian clan has a movie adaptation marcille has a tumblr blog where she posts Hate on the daltian clan movie tag and calling it criticism which it is but also not the place, girl, go to rotten tomatoes for that

falin also has a tumblr and she and marcille had no idea the other is a tumblr user. falin made a post like "just watched daltian clan with my gf i get why shes really obsessed with it now" and marcille, against her better judgement replies to the post like "really sorry that you were misled by your girlfriend like that, you should read the novels instead, it's way better."

laios who sees falin looking shocked at her phone asks whats up and then after receiving the answer says "wow sounds like a real jerk! just block them"

anyway thats my modern day farcille when there's no high fantasy problems involved

#dungeon meshi #farcille #marcille donato #falin touden

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lavampira · 2 days

Text

book recommendations

tysm @winedark and @rosenfey for the tag <:

passing it along to @hythlodaes @scionshtola @coldshrugs @likeabirdinflight @lesbianalicent @veeples @narrativefoiltrope @kirnet @disequilibria @jennystahl @elvves @queenofthieves @weird-ecologies @erielake @verbose-vespertine @solarisrenbeth @onceinabluemoony @queerbrujas @oldblood but ofc no pressure!!

1. the last book I read:

GOTH WESTERN by LIVALI WYLE — well. technically, it’s an indie graphic novel. but it’s a western meets magical realism about necromancy, revenge, and the power of love. and lesbians. I burned through it in a couple hours sitting because I was so gripped by it tbh.

2. a book I recommend:

THE HACIENDA by ISABEL CAÑAS — an absolute all time fave book in my heart; I would say one doesn’t even need to necessarily love horror to get invested in this one, since it also involves very interesting critique of spanish colonialism, religion, and class struggles in post-independence mexico only using hauntings as the lens to view it.

3. a book that I couldn’t put down:

THE PRIORY OF THE ORANGE TREE by SAMANTHA SHANNON — I was glued to this book for a solid two weeks despite its length. I have a lot that I would change about the pacing and certain events or qualities of some characters’ outcomes, but it was such a fun fantasy read, and I had a difficult time even moving on from the setting and protagonists once I was done.

4. a book I’ve read twice (or more):

THE SONG OF ACHILLES by MADELINE MILLER — my first time reading this myth retelling was my freshman year of college, so I reread it again ten years later to see if it would still hold up for how much I loved it, and it absolutely did. the perspective of the man standing beside and in love with the hero interwoven with the tragedy of achilles and patroclus takes me right out and the passages that tumblr enjoys to quote from it have so much more impact in the full context of the narrative.

5. a book on my TBR:

OUR WIVES UNDER THE SEA by JULIA ARMFIELD — this poor book keeps getting knocked down on my TBR but I’m determined to read it this year. I’m intrigued by the horror of the protagonist’s wife ‘coming back wrong’ in a sense, and the recommendations based on its similarity to ANNIHILATION, but also the fact it seems to be a wlw scifi horror, too.

6. a book I’ve put down:

AFFINITY by SARAH WATERS — I wanted to like this one so bad, considering how often waters has been hyped up to me as The Author for historical lesbian novels and the fact it delves into victorian spiritualism, but the pacing felt so slow at getting to the point in the plot, and when it finally did, the twist put me off on finishing the end. it’s probably more of a case of ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ but I def had to DNF it.

7. a book on my wishlist:

GHOST STATION by S.A. BARNES — space horror quickly became a fave niche genre that I got into last year, so I’ve been very excited for this release, too. I’m also a fan of how barnes writes atmospheric dread and I have high expectations for it.

8. a favorite book from my childhood:

WUTHERING HEIGHTS by EMILY BRONTË — it altered my brain chemistry as a teenager in high school and I haven’t been the same since I read it. I distinctly remember listening to ‘you said I killed you — haunt me then!’ read aloud and having to pretend like it didn’t make me feel so completely unhinged in the middle of class.

9. a book you would give to a friend:

PIRANESI by SUSANNA CLARKE — I was recommended this one by a friend to begin with, so it feels like an even more perfect book to pass forward. I think it’s one of those books that’s easy to get absorbed into even if it’s not a typical genre one would read, and it’s such a life-altering experience to go through with the protagonist, too. the underlying message that we’re all changed by our own trials and we’re never the same as we were before lingers with me.

10. a book of poetry or lyrics you own:

CRUSH by RICHARD SIKEN — it’s taken me so long to finally track down a physical copy at my bookstore but it was worth it because it remains my fave book of poetry to date. I could quote so many lines, after how hard they’ve hit me, and some of them have influenced my own writing or pairings in some ways.

11. a nonfiction book you own:

HAVANA NOCTURNE by T.J. ENGLISH — back in 2015-2016ish I went through a true crime phase in the prohibition era through the foundation of the US mafia, and this is a very informative book on how the mob became tied to cuba and how the revolution affected it.

12. what are you currently reading:

AN EDUCATION IN MALICE by S.T. GIBSON — I stumbled across this retelling of carmilla set in a late 60s massachusetts women’s college after reading gibson’s A DOWRY OF BLOOD and had to give it a try. I’m enjoying it so far; the prose is full of thick emotional yearning and electric chemistry, and the balance in the narrative of toxic mentorship, historical romantic and sensual attraction between women without shaming them for it, and vampiric elements is really fun.

13. what are you planning on reading next:

WHAT FEASTS AT NIGHT by T. KINGFISHER — I only found out the other day that the sequel to WHAT MOVES THE DEAD was even released but I’m so desperate for the next part of alex easton’s story (and how eerily kingfisher writes horror) that it shot up to my next read.

#childhood is a stretch but i only read like. where the red fern grows. as an actual smaller child #and honestly? who let me do that? i sobbed for weeks i can’t consider it a fave after how bad it shattered little dani’s soul #dani.txt #tag game

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daysofmoron · 2 days

Text

Okay, by this point I'm tired

A little bit of my thoughts on some situation, that one, by my surprise, that is still going and i see it like some hell of the ride

My discussion going to take places around one person /I'm not going to name them/

I met this person online while drawing in magma, and i thought/and still think/ about them as a fun to talk to and draw with

Let's be honest - we drew some NSFW stuff /in closed magma sessions/

At some point they revealed that they’re turning 18 and not 19.

After this everyone suddenly went into rampage mode/again, this is how i see the situation, you can have your own opinion on that/

Some people, like me, didn't care about their age, if they're fun to communicate with, I don't really think about how old they are

But other audience...well, some said that they're just disappointed, and i understand, they have their own reasons

But there were people who started anonymously or even openly harass this person

Let's be honest - nobody is going to sue you

You didn't know their age when you interacted with them. The fact that they were hiding their real age is their responsibility, not yours

Second of all - once they will turn 18 nobody is going to care or call the police. As if police would want to get involved in something like this

Okay, now to the point

On insta some other day i saw a couple of people posting in their stories "don't talk to this person" and sharing this person’s account

By this point i was so tired of seeing all of this happening, and I don't want people harassing one person because of one mistake they made, and, again, they admitted they were wrong, they’re already paying the price. Of course this doesn't mean that people will suddenly forgive them, but again, does this age stuff really matter when you just chatting?...

Anyway, i texted one person that posted this on insta, expressing my opinion that they shouldn't probably share this person's account, because let's be real, it can encourage more harassment, it even looks like harassment when you post stuff like this with some rude comment about this person

They replied to me that they weren't trying to harass anyone, just wanted to make sure that other people won't get involved in some weird stuff this person causing

. . .

What?

I then saw that they also shared in the story that they have proofs

I asked for these proofs, they send me some screenshots of conversation with another person, who told that the person this whole situation is about not only hid their true age

Is also a t-cest shipper...

//a VERY heavy sigh//

I'm sorry...wHaT?

In this message i saw they were writing about this person following the artist that loves drawing t-cest, not only turtles, but April, Casey Jr and etc and etc

. . .

So like, we can't now like just the drawing style of artist? If they have some strange thing that we don't agree with, we should just ban this person

I still don't see people leaving, for example, fnaf fandom because creator hates lgbt

I still don't see people leaving the fandom of attack on titans because it’s chief editor killed his wife

And i still don't see people leaving hazbin hotel fandom knowing how shady vivziepop has been throughout many years, accused in drawing ped**hilia and z**philia

And wow, people still follow these fandoms and people just because they like what they’re doing.

They don't need to follow artist's ideas or thoughts just to like what they draw or make

And, somehow, we came to a point where the person this post is about is accused in being a t-cest artist basically without proof. Just because someone somewhere told something about that they think they saw. Just baseless words.

How about if I tell you that I am a huge unicorn with rainbow hair and i live in a big castle with butterflies as my servants –

Do you believe it without any photo proof? No, I don’t think so.

I’ve been drawing with them for months. I never saw anything remotely close to anything they’ve been accused in.

I follow their every account I know of.

And again, i didn't see any of this stuff -

I now think, that people are trying to make this person to be seen by others as a black sheep.

And now, I even think about stopping to interact with anyone in ROTTMNT fandom.

Why? Well because of people’s hypocrisy and egoism, how easy they’re ready to give up and turn their backs on a person because of one mistake.

Did the story of Alek Holowka didn’t teach us anything? Or recent story with Ed Piskor? Are you really forgetting that you’re talking about and with a real human beings? Or you just simply don’t care?

I'm getting sick of this -

P.S. again, this is my opinion on things, you can have your own thoughts on the situation

#some thoughts

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