#if something doesn’t directly affect her she doesn’t care!!!!!!

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Do you love me?

Pairings - Rafe x reader

Summary - you catch Rafe watching porn. Based on this ask

Warnings - masturbation, porn, reader being sad, language, unprotected sex. (18+)

A/n- always have the conversation with your partner about porn, some people don’t care but others do so please don’t leave any rude comments.

When you had gone looking for your boyfriend around 11pm you had expected to find him asleep on the couch, credits to the movie the two of you had tried watching running in the background. White noise helped him sleep. What you hadn’t expected to find was your boyfriend watching porn, on the big screen. His cock between his hand as he tugged himself, soft moans and grunts spewing from his lips as he watched the scene in front of him.

A perfect curved blonde bounced on a thick cock, her pussy was immaculate. No hair or razor burn to be seen, just complete bareness. She was everything you weren’t, even the noises she made was better.

You had been so naive to think he didn’t watch porn, to believe you were enough to satisfy his needs. Of course you weren’t, you didn’t look like the girl on the screen. Your curves weren’t perfect, your hair didn’t look like that and you definitely didn’t sound or act the way she did which apparently had Rafe beating his cock harder.

Stepping away from the door you creeped back to the bedroom, the tears fell before you even made it under the blanket. Your body shaking against the mattress in sadness, this shouldn’t have such an affect on you. Everyone watches porn, you’ve watched porn but that was before Rafe. Before you had his perfect body at your disposal.

Pressing the palms of your hands into your face to ease the tears, taking deep breaths to stop the noises. The sound of the living room door closing has you burrowing under the blanket, hiding your face so he can’t see you.

It feels like hours go by before he steps into the room, moving around quietly as he strips his clothes off. He always slept naked, a sight you’d never get over. You feel his side of the bed dip and the ruffle of the blanket, you don’t expect his arm to pull you against his chest. “You're awake” he whispers, the thump of your heart giving you away. His hand pressed firmly just above your breast, you stay quiet though. Hoping he just lets you go to sleep but of course he doesn’t, he’s spinning your body like a rag doll. “Why’s your heart beating so fast?”.

The room is pitch black, he’s unable to see your bloodshot eyes. His fingers dance up and down your spine waiting for your answer. “Not sure” your voice is raspy, a tell tale sign something’s wrong. His hand is hitting the bedside lamp within seconds, towering over your small frame. Fingers cupping your cheek softly, his eyes search your face and a deep frown settle between his eyebrows. “Why have you been crying?”.

You push at his chest, turning until your back is to him. Embarrassment settles in your chest, a sudden wave of nausea rushes through you. “Babe, don’t do that. Tell me why you’ve been crying?”

With all the confidence you can muster you turn slightly, looking him directly in the eyes. “Do you still love me?”

The deep chuckle vibrates his chest and he pulls himself to sit, your cheeks tinted red in anger and embarrassment you press your face into the pillow. “Oh hey hey babe no. Of course I love you. Why would you ask me that?”

His grabby hands prod you in the side, pulling at your waist so he can see your face. You slap his hands away when they reach for your face again, moving yourself until you say against the headboard. Knees pressed firmly to your chest, arms wrapped tight around you. “Are you attracted to me?” Tears start falling before you can catch them, bottom lip wobbling as you stare at him. The sobs come hard and fast, he’s holding your face firmly.

This time he stares at you, it's intense and you feel shy under his gaze. “Of course I am… your fucking perfect”

Your eyes rolled hard, no you weren’t. The tears keep coming but the attitude fights it way through. “Don’t roll your eyes” he grasps your wrists, yanking you until you straddle his lap. “No I'm not.. I don’t look like those girls”

Confusion evident on his face as he waits for you to explain, so unsure on what has made you feel this way. “Those girls” you whispered, too shy to explain you had caught him masterbsting to porn earlier. “Your going to need to explain baby”

“The girls in porn” you blurt, the corner of his lips turning up. A lightbulb going off above his head, he realises you must have seen him earlier. “I went to find you… I thought you’d fallen asleep, I didn’t mean to see you- you’know”.

Gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb he angles your face up at him, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You think I don’t love you because of the girls in porn?”

You nod your head in embarrassment, you know you shouldn’t be feeling these things. “I was right here.. why didn’t you ask me to help?”

“Oh baby… your fucking perfect, those girls aren’t what I want. You are what I want… I watch porn when I don’t want to annoy you”

“Your not annoying me”

“Your pussy is fantastic, the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. I can’t get enough of it, I can’t get enough of fucking you… I love fucking you”

“Sweet girl, my sex drive is insane. I’m constantly horny, I can’t expect you to be willing and waiting for me every second of the day”

“Yes you can Rafe… if I’m around then use me, I understand if I’m not around. Of course porn would be your go to but I’m right here, I want you just as much as you want me and if it’s not sex you want, I’ll get on my knees for you”

He grins Cheshire Cat like, pupils blown to the max. His lips attack yours in one swift swoop, tongue slipping between your lips. It’s messy and full of heat, his grabby hands caress the skin of your exposed thighs.

Grinding you down onto his crotch, you can feel him hardening under you. You had forgotten he was naked for a brief moment, reaching down to grasp his cock. With just a few small tugs he was completely hard, throbbing in your palm. “Fuck baby… I hope you mean what your saying, I’m going to fuck this pussy until it’s a weeping mess every day… multiple times of the day” he states, kissing down the length of your neck.

He’s pulling your shorts to the side, pressing the head of his cock to your opening. Without warning you push down on him, his cock stretching you wide. “Shit… baby girl, I just about came. You feel so fucking good” he growls, he scoops your breasts out of the loose tank top. Sucking your nipples into his mouth harshly, your hips roll and bounce above him. “Not so fast, I want to show you how much I love fucking you” he breaths, wrapping his arm around your back he places you onto the bed.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you, it's deep and slow. Your walls spasm around him each time he nudges your clit, his lips suck deep purple bruises into your neck. “Oh yes Rafe… I can’t- I need you to go faster” you breath, your orgasm was fluttering.

Pressing the heels of your feet into his lower back, he shook his head moving his lips across your jaw onto your lips. His pace quickened only by a fraction, not enough to bring you over the edge. “Going slow baby.. want you to understand how much I love you and how much I love this body, you are the only person I want”

You nod your head, understanding his words. You had over reacted to what you had seen, completely understanding why he used porn at certain times. “Yes baby.. I understand. Please”

He loved hearing you beg, he knew you were close by the way your cunt sucked him deeper. He reached between you, pressing his fingers to your aching clit. “Yes yes yes”

This was enough to have you crying out under him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him in close. Fingernails racking up the length of his back as your orgasm washed over you, he was quick to follow, still sensitive from his previous abuse on his cock.

“I love you baby… not porn okay”

“I know, but I was serious… use me okay. I’m here whenever you want me”

“Your going to regret that”

🏷️ Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @maybankslover @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @eliana772 @gabys-gabs @applelovesposts @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @bbycowboi @teresalesbian @imnotpretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @jscameron @rafegirly @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @loverofdrewstarkey @ijustwanttoreadlols @sierraluvzz @sunny1616 @spookyscaryspoon @slvttedoutmars @ailee-celeste @ashpeace888 @xo-hayleyy-xo @exhaustedbutrelated @ethereal0810 @tayygriffith @pankowperfection @loopylemonpops @oceandriveab

#rafe cameron smut #drew starkey smut #outerbanks smut #rafe cameron #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe recs #rafe x oc #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe smut #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x smut

[bitchin-tubs]

I actually don’t mind the hell’s aesthetic of the show being a chaotic cities and towns but the question remains as why? Has hell always reflected the human’s world? Was it something they integrated later on in existence? Why are there jails and police in hell?

For my rewrite the answer is that Lucifer, being the fallen Angel who always craved a familiarity with humans, has always being infatuated with their silly traditions and systems. So as the ruler of Hell he basically molded it to his will so he could have what he couldn’t in Heaven, a human world of his making in which he is worshipped first and close to them second.

Lucifer has a conflicting relationship to humanity, fascinated by their nature but also jealous of their free will and their importance to God. So while he desires to live as one of them, he also wants to punish them. Creating a Capitalist Hellscape in which he’s the immovable market giant and everyone has to live an eternity of labor and consumerism.

Tying in Octavia calling LooLoo Land a cheap rip-off of LuLu Land, the far more lucrative and popular theme park.

However, Lucifer had to give sinners a systematic advantage in order for them to actually participate in the economy and worship him as a brand/entrepreneur/leader/“god”, raising them to middle class with No acknowledgement of the hellborn left behind.

On the other hand, Lilith is far more traditional, initially “ruling” Hell by creating creatures made for violence and torture hence why hellborn are naturally predisponed to savage behaviors. At the same time, she’s not a caring mother (unless for Charlie), before Lucifer Lilith only knew rage and indifference which is why she doesn’t advocate for her creation’s wellbeing because being forgotten for as long as she was, she grew apathetic and only what directly affects her is of importance. Though she does misses the simpler days when it’s was just her, Lucifer and the caos around them.

#helluva boss rewrite #helluva boss redesign #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #my art

[squishycheekanon]

Regency Price thot🌹🤍

I am working on Limerence and Part two of both mountain man and the pen pal au by popular demand. But while you wait for me to write those please enjoy this lovely Viscount John Price and his Viscountess.

Price sat waiting patiently, newspaper in hands reading the latest gossip of the ton. “Aristocrats.” He scoffed low under his breath. Being one of the wealthiest, best-connected members of the middle class came with privileges but too much gossip as far a Price was concerned. Unless it directly affected him he couldn’t care less.

The doors to the dining room opened and in walked a butler, white curly wig on top of his head, his hands wringing together in nervousness as he looked at his master. “Well?” Price asked without looking away from his newspaper, an interesting snippet about a whistle or a lady down or something or other caught his eye.

“My Lord she..” the lack of answer was beginning to agitate him, he rolled up the paper and slammed it on the table, finally making eye contact with the butler.

“What?” Price snapped.

“She doesn’t seem to be here My Lord.” He said, gulping with unease clear in his voice.

“One of the horses is gone too.” A maid had said a little too loudly as she rushed into the room with the important information. Everyone in the room cringed, each and every servent, perhaps at this point even the entire ton, knows if the Viscountess and one of the horses are missing, someone will either be fired or end up in the hospital.

A wave a darkness crashed through the room as John growled out “Find me who by the time I’m back from retrieving my wife.” His orders were clear as crystal as he rushed from the room, Simon, his number two following swiftly after him.

“My horse Simon.” John grunted pulling out his pocket watch from his jacket. After years of being married to you, he always knew exactly where to find you based on the time of day it was or day of the week.

You thrived in order and schedules, one of the many things that he loved about you. Loved knowing he didn’t have to worry where you’d be at eleven in the morning. Always the drawing room catching up the on stitching you’ve been putting off, frustrated when the cross stitch didn’t form the absolute way you wanted it to.

Simon, ever the loyal to a fault number two replied quickly and lowly, “Yes Viscount.” He began to rush ahead of John making it to the stables before him and barking orders at the stable boys to fetch the masters horse and saddle. Price didn’t bother with riding clothes or shoes, simply latching his everyday boot into the stirrup and hoisting himself up into his horse.

“Shall I follow My Lord?” Simon asked head bowed as usual.

“If you wish.” John didn’t stick around after that, whipping his reigns and taking off on the beautiful brown stallion. “Come on boy, we’ve not got long before it rains!” John shouted to his horse as if the creature actually understood him, though in his fear he did not care.

The looks of the sky had him worried, the last time you went riding in the rain you caught pneumonia. He remembers how you shivered, how you were covered in sweat yet cold and how you burned to the touch. He never wishes to see you that way again. These thoughts had him pushing his horse harder to get to you faster. By the cherry tree you should be, and oh does he hope you are.

You however had just become done with your rage fit and were about to leave. Stupid Miss Carmichael, one of the bitchiest women in the ton. Not even married and yet she had the gall to mock you about not getting around to giving John a child yet. Joking about possible infertility, the words made you sick as did her audacity.

You had been married to your husband two years now and yes you were yet to bore him a child. Though the first year of your marriage, due to it being a simple arrangement, you spent it away from him. Always avoiding him, even on your wedding night you locked yourself in your room.

Though finally he managed to get you to open up to him, taught you many things, you began to love him. He had loved you however since the first moment he saw you. More so when you had advertently put him in his place after he was rude to a servant.

You had spent the second year, still getting to know each other and becoming one as husband and wife didn’t happen until three months ago. It had been essentially two years of little innocent hand touches here and there, longing looks and John standing too close to you at balls and events just so he could feel your warmth and smell your scent for longer. You were both still making up for lost time, having children was not at the forefront of your minds. Well not yours anyway.

You sighed glancing at the horse you’d rode here on, you’d best get back to join John for breakfast was your first thought. Even though it would take barely a minute for him to see you were upset and demand who had made you that way. You didn’t need to put your burden on him as much as he always insisted that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do as his wife.

Blinking up at the sky, you saw rain clouds rolling in and started to feel the drizzle of water falling down from above. Then a clap of thunder and you instantly regretted your decision to ride out here after your awful interaction with Miss Carmichael earlier. “Wonderful.” You sighed annoyed as you pulled your cloak hood over your head and made your way back to the black horse waiting patiently for you. One last look at the cherry tree and you set off into the eye of the storm.

“That’s it girl yah!” You whipped your reigns, both feet tight in the stirrups. You never rode side saddle like most women do, preferring to ride properly. Just as the cherry tree was almost out of a view, the most spectacular sight came bounding toward you. Your husband Viscount John Price gallantly riding his brown steed toward you.

“Darling!” His yell was so quiet in the midst of the rain and thunder, though it was enough to have you stopping your horse and remaining stationary as he began to slow down the closer to you he got.

Pulling on the reigns John came to a halt, horses next to one another legs touching. “Before you say anything,” you began blinking up at your handsome husband who was staring down at you heatedly, he nods encouraging you to go on. “It wasn’t raining when I started riding.”

You give him a smile, and despite the fact that you’re wet through, chilled to the bone, and as far as John is concerned in desperate need of a hot bath, he thinks you’re the most beautiful sight to behold. He smiles back leaning in close to you until his nose brushes against yours, his strong hand coming up to cup your jaw as he whispers into your mouth, looking you dead in the eyes.

“I’m not mad my love, but make no mistake, once you’re warm and dry I plan to bend you over my desk and fuck you from behind. Keep you stuffed with my cum all day, then you can tell me the reason for your riding today and who I need to talk to.”

#squishycheekanon #asks are appreciated #viscount John price #john price x y/n #captain john price x you #captain johnathan price #captain john price x reader #john price x oc #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #john price x you #john price x simon riley #captain price x reader #price smut #price x reader #cod price #captain price #price #captain price x female reader #captain price x reader smut #captain price smut #captain price x you #captain price x y/n #captain john price x female reader #call of duty smut #call of duty simon riley #call of duty simon ghost riley #call of duty price #call of duty fanfic

[operator-report]

In middle school, I read a short story for English class called Flowers for Algernon. Maybe you’ve read it, too. In the story, a disabled man named Charlie is given a medicine that cures his disability. Over the course of the story, he comes to realize that his “cure” is temporary and that he will “regress” into being disabled again. The story makes it clear that this is a tragedy. As a disabled teenager when I first read it, the story affected me deeply.

I’d like to talk about David and Noelle. 

Content warnings for discussion of suicide, self-harm, ableism and eating disorders below the cut. Spoilers for Worm through arc 27. 

When I was first reading arc 18, one of the things that stuck out to me is how much time the story spends on Eidolon. For me, it was the first time I paid much attention to him - prior to that, Eidolon was just an extremely powerful background character to me. But in arc 18, we learn that (1) Eidolon is losing his powers and (2) he believes that fighting Echidna will allow him to tap into some sort of reservoir to bring them back.

We find this out, of course, through Tattletale exposing him, which is always an extremely embarrassing event for Tattletale’s target. It makes it extremely clear that what Eidolon is doing is pathetic. He is going to kill a teenage girl so he can feel something. 

Which would be messed up enough, right? We don’t need to make this even worse, right? Wrong. Because Wildblow has spent the last several thousand words building up the Case 53s as X-Men style metaphors for oppressed groups, and one of the forms of oppression that Wildblow generally writes well is ableism. I think you can consider most, if not all of the Case 53s as disabled in some way. I think the link is extremely clear with Noelle.

Noelle doesn’t get her powers from traditional Cauldron human experimentation - at least, not directly. Instead, she and Krouse are facing what is, to them, a no-win scenario. They’re quarantined with limited access to medical care. Breaching this quarantine would permanently render them criminals. If Noelle survives her surgery, which is a pretty big if, she’ll become disabled, in a way that both Krouse and Noelle agree is ugly and undesirable. She won’t be able to do “boyfriend-girlfriend stuff” because she won’t be “any good to look at, after.” 

Krouse and Noelle are terrified of death, yes, but they’re also terrified of disability. They are desperate for control over Noelle’s body, control that, as of that moment, only the state has. (Remember the quarantine?) Krouse pressures Noelle into drinking the vial. Noelle is cured. 

Noelle’s cure does not last. In attempting to assert control, her body becomes uncontrollable. Her body is her trauma and her eating disorder made literal. She still needs care.

Worm would be bad if this is why her life sucks. But Worm does something better, instead. Noelle goes through hell, not just due to the sheer difficulty of having her power, but because of the way her teammates and Coil treat her. They talk about Noelle like she’s already dead. They’re ashamed of bringing her the food she needs. When Krouse “includes” Noelle in a discussion in arc 12, it’s mostly perfunctory. They do not believe Noelle is human any longer. They lock her away.

Noelle doesn’t want to be put in a cage. Noelle doesn’t want to be dehumanized. In interlude 18, when we get insight into Noelle’s thoughts, we learn that what Noelle is angry about is the fact that Krouse locked her in a concrete bunker and placated her. When she tells people not to look at her, there’s a coda to that sentence that she doesn’t get to verbalize: don’t look at me like that. 

This is the person who Eidolon is going to kill. 

Via the Simurgh, this is a person Eidolon has unknowingly created.

A few thousand words of Worm go by. It’s Gold Morning. Eidolon is fighting Scion. Now, at the end of the book, we finally get substantial insight into David, the man behind the mask. 

David takes a Cauldron vial to cure his disability. David sees this as the only way out, after an unsuccessful application to join the military, and then, an unsuccessful suicide attempt. David is bearing an immense amount of shame and internalized ableism. David is worried that father’s friends are watching him. (Don’t look at me.) David cleaves the world into two kinds of people: those who can have jobs, who are liked and respected because they are useful; and people like him, who are useless.

It’s a terrible way to think. Without that worldview, how could a person not take the vial? David wants to be used, because David wants to be useful. He never gets the independence he craves – not when he’s in that level of debt to Cauldron – but he gets to be useful, and that’s one of the best things you can be.

Like Noelle’s, like Charlie’s in Flowers, David’s cure doesn’t work. His abilities are wearing off. He is essentially told, when Doctor Mother administers his booster shots, that his medicine is too expensive. 

Cauldron creates Noelle. David, as Cauldron’s soldier, has a role to play in her creation. David knows exactly what he is doing to Noelle. It happened to him. Worm fandom talks a lot about David being a father. He’s a father in more ways than one. (David’s father is always watching him.) (Don’t look at me.)

Cauldron never cures David’s ableism. In his world, you can be useful, or you can die. David asks Noelle if she wants to win. Noelle tells him no. You can have a job, or you can kill yourself. When David tries to kill Noelle to help himself, isn’t that a mercy?

Of course it isn’t. It goes without saying that all of this is extremely fucked up. When it comes to disability, “cure” is a complicated concept. I’m not going to get into all the ways it can be treated; this post is already a thousand words long. But I do think that Worm, through Noelle and David and the concept of the Cauldron vial, provides an extremely vivid picture of the problems with cure. 

Under ableist logic, when you have a disability, a cure is something you’re expected to want. Without it, the story goes, you can’t be useful. You can’t do boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. The expectation is social, like the act of staring. Your desire for it should drive how you organize your life – it is control, like a quarantine. David is crushed by that expectation. He throws his lot in with Cauldron, the cure-makers. The expectation is passed along to Noelle, and even though David can recognize that inheritance, he cannot imagine any other way to respond to it other than attempted murder.

At the beginning of this post, I mentioned that Flowers for Algernon is a tragedy. The reason that story has stuck with me so long is that I keep going back and forth as to why. Is it a tragedy because Charlie goes back to being disabled? There’s a good chance that’s what the author intended. I don’t know. It would be a pretty shitty story if that were the case. Is it a tragedy because people only treat Charlie well when he’s “cured,” and when that stops, he’ll go back to abuse? Seems plausible. I don’t think there’s one right answer. Regardless, when you’re disabled, there’s an immense pressure to seek out a cure, and a cognizable loss when it is withheld. The fact that Worm captures that social pressure and social loss so well is extremely compelling for me, and I’m going to be thinking about these characters for a long time.

#worm #parahumans #wormblr #eidolon #noelle meinhardt #any errors or omissions in this post are due to me reading interlude 27 like 3 hours ago #shoutout to tumblr user artbyblastweave for writing excellent eidolon meta that inspired this one #i would also give a shoutout to my friend who convinced me to read worm but i already shout at her enough. enjoy. thanks for the worms

[moonstruckme]

Burnt Out

summary: when you're overworking yourself trying to please everyone, Remus wants you to take some time for yourself

cw: mention of not eating, exhaustion 

Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus is reading in your bedroom when he hears the door open, screaming on its hinges, and slam shut. Just that noise lets him know what kind of day you’re having, but he gets up and moves towards the sound anyway, eager to see you.

“Dove?” he calls as he enters the kitchen, where he finds you already surrounded by sandwich supplies, slathering jelly onto a piece of bread you’ve placed directly onto the counter in your rush.

You turn around at his voice. “Remus, hi!” You beam, surging toward him. 

He catches you as you stumble, clipping your hip on the corner of the counter, and a soft, sympathetic hiss escapes him. “Careful,” he murmurs, covering the spot with his hand protectively as you press yourself to his chest, your arms winding around his neck. Remus brings his other hand to the center of your back, squeezing gently, and he wishes he could pour his affection into you this way, through the palm of his hand. 

“Sorry,” you say into his neck, though he’s unsure why you’re apologizing to him. It’s your poor hip that’s been slighted. “I didn’t know you were home.” 

“I haven’t been here long,” he assures you. 

You pull back, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that feels like it’s over before it’s begun, and he tries in vain to hold onto you as you move away. You resume rushing around the kitchen, letting cabinets and drawers bang shut behind you. Ordinarily you move almost silently, always easing the front door shut behind you and moving around the apartment on socked feet, much to Remus’ amusement when he comes into the living room to find you curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and dinner already in the oven, and he wasn’t even aware you were home. But on your busiest days, you turn into this—what he’s affectionately dubbed your Tornado of Productivity—and the time it takes to be your usual quiet, careful self simply doesn’t serve your goal of functioning at maximum efficiency. You’d been in this state for the last few days, never seeming to have more than a few minutes’ break between work and school and the myriad of social obligations Remus suspects you only agree to because of the guilt you’ve associated with the word “no.”

“How was your day?” Remus asks probingly. 

You blow out a breath that answers his question before you do. “Crazy,” you admit, washing a tomato in the sink. “I had a test at noon, and I didn’t study yesterday because I thought I’d have time this morning, but then I had to go in to work.” 

He feels his brow furrow. “Didn’t you work last night?”

“Yeah, but—” you absentmindedly grab a knife from the drawer, then another, until finally you find the one you need “—Mia didn’t sleep well last night, so I told her I could take her shift.” 

“Dove.” Remus tries to keep his reprimanding tone gentle. “You barely slept last night either.”

“I know,” you sigh again, and you sound so exhausted Remus wants to seize you and swaddle you in blankets so you have no choice but to rest. Get you in bed and kiss the crease between your eyebrows until it fades away. Give you the cosseting you deserve. “But she asked for my help, and—anyway, I don’t feel great about the test since I only had a few minutes to study right before.”

“I’m sorry,” he says earnestly. “I’m sure it went better than you think.”

You flash him a kind, if somewhat forced, smile. “Thanks.” You’ve just finished the sandwiches, of which Remus now notices there are three. Three completely different sandwiches: peanut butter and jelly, ham and cheese, and something involving lettuce and tomato. He can’t imagine what you need that variety for, but he rarely understands what you’re up to when you’re this scatterbrained. Your mission nearly complete, you seem to be short-circuiting in the middle of the kitchen, standing with your hands raised as if prepared for your next task and your features scrunched up bemusedly. 

“Plates?” Remus suggests gently. 

“No, sorry—I need, um—” You shake your head as if chastising yourself. “Tupperware. I need tupperware.” You roll your eyes, seemingly at your own forgetfulness. It makes Remus feel defensive, though to defend you against yourself seems like a conflict of interests. You open the cabinet above your microwave, reaching for the containers. “Marlene and Mary want to meet, but I haven’t had time to eat since breakfast…” You appear sheepish at Remus’ exasperated look, but he doesn’t interrupt. “...so I said I’d make us all sandwiches.” 

You’re struggling to reach the tupperware, and Remus nudges you out of the way, passing them to you. “Dove,” he says, using his new proximity to set his hands on your shoulders, preventing you from dashing off again, “don’t you think you need some time to rest? You’ve had a long day, I’m sure the girls will understand you wanting to meet another time.” You bite your lip, anxious at the idea of canceling on your friends. “And,” he adds lightly, “I wouldn’t mind getting to spend some time with you too. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you the last few days.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widen, so instantaneously guilty he wishes he could take it back. “I’m so sorry, Remus, you’re right. I, um.” Your brow furrows, gaze moving over his shoulder to some faraway place, and Remus can see your overworked gears turning again, your fatigued brain struggling to solve this new dilemma. “I have class in the morning, but I shouldn’t be home too late tonight if—or, I actually have about fifteen minutes before I’m meeting Mary and Marl, do you want to hang for a bit now and then maybe walk with me?”

“I want you to take time for yourself,” Remus says firmly, though not unkindly. “I’m not trying to give you another task, love, I promise.” He lets his hands drop from your shoulders to where your fingers are fidgeting anxiously, easing his own between them. “But you’re spreading yourself too thin. Marlene and Mary love you, and that’s not gonna change if you don’t always have time to meet when they do.” You slouch slightly against the counter, beginning to resign yourself unhappily to the idea of staying in, and Remus kisses the top of your head sympathetically. “You can put your sandwiches in the fridge so they stay ready for you, and I’ll make us whatever you want for dinner. Pasta?” he asks, to sweeten the deal. 

Your gaze meets his again, your interest piqued. “That sounds amazing.”

“Alright, pasta,” he says decisively, smiling at you solely so you’ll smile back. It works, and he’s pleased to note that it looks a bit less strained than before. He begins herding you towards the living room, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he imagines he can see the guilt in your eyes slowly fading away as you let them droop slightly, giving into the relaxation Remus is peddling so persuasively. “And we can watch a movie, and cuddle, yeah?”

You hum assent, releasing a little sigh of contentment as you sink into the couch cushions and giving Remus your sweetest, most adoring look as he settles in beside you, covering you with a blanket. “Thank you,” you say, packing the words with enough sincerity to make Remus’ heart ache. “I’ll try to…cut back, a bit.” 

“No one will hold it against you,” he promises, knowing you need to hear it, “and if they do, send them to me for a scolding.”

You grin. “That would be a cruel punishment, I’m not sure I could do that to some poor soul.” You tilt your chin upwards, and he meets you halfway, the kiss lingering and sweet. You brush your thumb tenderly along Remus’ jaw as you pull away, and he knows what you’re feeling before you open your mouth. The same sentiment echoes through his chest. “I love you,” you whisper, like it’s a sacrament. “Promise you’ll still love me back if I meet up with the girls tomorrow and pencil you in for after?”

Remus huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Alright, love, I promise.” 

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #marauders era #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin baby blurb #marauders

[ghouljams]

Cowboy!Ghost tries to figure out how to act around the only woman he’s ever fallen in love with when she’s off limits to him. This is very early days in their relationship. I’m talking right after they get caught by Price.

Ghost is working very hard to scare you off, and it’s kind of working. When your Dad finally properly introduces you two he looks at you with eyes like ice. All the warmth of him gone and replaced with a dead man. He doesn’t say one word to you, simply stares you down until you drop your offered hand and go back to your chores.

He doesn’t say anything to you the rest of the day, he’s singularly focused on his work each time you see him. It’s like you don’t even exist to him. Maybe that’s for the best, but it makes your heart clench. He looks… lonely. The only thing he shows any kindness to is the animals. Stroking his horse’s neck as he waits for the cattle to file past him, gently nudging chickens out of the way with his foot, he even gives the pigs an affectionate pat on the back when he walks past their paddock. He has none of the same affections for you, even though 12 hours ago you would’ve said he was one of the most attentive men you’d ever met. Ghost brushes past you to put his tack away and you almost feel the chill of it. 

“Your billet strap is too loose,” You tell him, because it’s been bothering you all day. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at you. “That’s why you’re slidin’ around in the saddle, Dolly’s a sweet horse but she’ll buck if you keep agitatin’ her.” He pauses, and nods once, quick, barely there. You nod back, satisfied that your horse is taken care of.

It’s the same thing the next day. The cold shoulder, the glare from under the shadow of his hat, the silence. You’d almost forget the way he’d held your face in the dark to kiss you. You press your hands against the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched and angry. Not with him. You get it, he’s a military man of course he’d obey his captain’s orders. This is exactly why you told yourself you’d never get involved with a military man. There was always going to be someone, something, more important than you to them. You love your Daddy, you really do, but…

But he hardly knows when to stop working. That’s why you’re making him something for lunch, because it’s what Momma would do if she was here. You swear at yourself and grab an extra couple slices of bread. 

Your whistle reaches him all the way across the pasture. Dolly’s head jerks in your direction, her ears twitching as the dog goes zipping past her feet. Ghost checks his watch, it’s not quitting time yet. He looks around for Price and sees him doing the same thing before directing his horse back towards the pasture fence. He waits, half watching as Price chats with you, his eyes following the meandering cows as they enjoy the sun. It’s so quiet. It sets his nerves on edge. 

“Ghost!” Price’s voice bellows over the grass. Ghost pulls his full attention to him, watches him wave an arm to signal him over. He clicks his tongue, knocks his heels against Dolly’s sides to get her moving. 

You’re standing on the lowest rung of the fence, precariously balanced, one hand on the nearest post with a smile. You hold a paper wrapped bundle out to him, the added height of the fence letting you hold it directly to his hands. “Lunch,” You tell him plainly, “Momma’d be mad if I let y’all work through it.”

He takes the offering from your hand and watches you hop off the fence. You click your tongue and Dolly moves, letting her reach through the fence to tighten one of the straps on the saddle. Ghost’s heart clenches in his chest. Why would a drop of sunshine like you even spare him a thought? Why do you care? You meet his eyes with a smile and he looks away quickly, past Price towards the field.

“Thanks,” He tells you low and rough, like he doesn’t want to.

“Any time.”

You do your best to try and distance the dark and silent man that works on the farm from the man that you spent the night with. Ghost seems to have had no trouble with it, and you’ll be damned if a man is better than you at anything. You treat him like any other farm hand your dad’s hired, you’re friendly and chatty even when you’re met with a brick wall. You hate it. 

Your thoughts are full of his hands, his voice, his eyes, a mouth you only felt. You are maddeningly haunted by this man, and he just… doesn’t care. Treats you like a fly on shit. The only kind word you get is the pained thanks when you hand him lunch. As if being nice to you is such a fucking challenge. And his fucking billet strap! He still can’t get it tight enough, it’s driving you crazy that you have to keep fixing it. It’s one fucking thing!

“You’re too friendly,” Ghost tells you. You glance over your shoulder at him.

“Am I supposed to be mean?” You don’t really want to do that, it’s not exactly your wheelhouse, “Daddy isn’t going to fire you just because I’m friendly.”

“You think that’s the issue?” He asks, eyes heavy on you. You make a face.

“What other issue would there be?”

“You’re-” He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. If you would just-”

You roll your eyes, “You’re such a drama queen, Si-”

Ghost’s hands grip your shoulders as he slams you against the side of the barn. “You don’t call me that,” He snarls, eyes so hot with anger it scares you, “Be a good little girl and leave me the hell alone.” 

Your chest clenches tight, and you feel your hands starting to shake with anxiety. He hasn’t said more than two words to you in a week and this is what he’s been thinking? You take a breath and fix your face, giving his own anger back to him. That seems to loosen some of the tension in his shoulders at least. His eyes linger on your lips, you can hear him breathing, see the conflict in his eyes. There’s a long quiet moment, while you’re standing held against the wall where you think he might kiss you.

“Ghost,” You try, watching his breath catch, his eyes dart to yours and he lets you go, pulling away like you’ve burned him. 

“Listen to your father when he tells you a man is dangerous.” He tells you, eyes cold once more. You nod, sliding against the wall of the barn. Your legs feel like they’re made of jelly. He doesn’t look back at you when he leaves.

#Goose immediately goes back to the house to stress bake #Price knows something's wrong but can't pry it out of her #She calls Soap to complain about Ghost being a jackass and he's like 'what did you expect? flowers?' #Soap: he's not that bad #Goose: he is that bad #Soap: did you do something to make him mad? #Goose: no comment #oc: goose #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #reader x ghost #cod x reader

[lemony-and-zesty]

Your au has hit me with the hyper-fixation stick. If I became annoying, I’m sorry.

How does everyone react/feel about JD being a hitman and him being so different from the brother they knew

And how does JD feel about himself being so different

I am sorry for taking a while to get to this but man I am so devastated by this question - especially the last part. And I wanna do right by it so I’ve been thinkin about it really hard.

I’m putting it under the read more, not just cause it got long, but it also got kinda,,, sad haha.

I’m thinkin they all have that initial reaction of “You’re a WHAT” ofc but it’s what comes directly before and after that that i really wanna nail down right.

Honestly I don’t even know which brother to start with 😭,,

I guess Floyd.

He’s shocked, of course, when he sees JD for the first time. Why’s he covered in so many scars? What could’ve possibly happened to him?

Why does Floyd feel like he’s seen him like this before

The main thing is trying to speak with him beyond just hellos. JD always seems to find some excuse to run off when Floyd’s involved.

It’s almost like he has to treat his oldest brother like a scared animal that’ll flee if he moves too quickly.

Floyd doesn’t know how he feels about that.

Once he finds out about it, he’s horrified. Both of and for John Dory. They’ve all been through so much, but this feels like something else entirely. He can see how affected he is and he’s devastated.

—

Next up is Clay.

He’d be the most,, angry,, about it all I think.

When he first sees John he’s quick to brush him off (like in canon) and that’s about the extent of it for a while. He honestly barely notices cause he’s too focused on his other brothers - especially Floyd.

It takes a long while for him to warm up to JD, and it doesn’t help that a lot of that bossiness JD had is still there. But he can tell he’s trying. Hell, they’re both trying. But Clay can’t help this feeling of unease that he gets around JD.

When he finds out,, god I can’t imagine anything but him getting furious and screaming at him. I feel like he’d storm off before even hearing JD out. He’d probably only be able to be calmed by one of his other brothers or Viva.

—

Bruce is mostly shocked at how quiet his older brother is. JD was a lot of things, but quiet was never one of them.

Honestly, much like Clay, a lot of things fly over Bruce’s head cause JD tends to just,, fade into the background when they’re all together.

And, y’know, it’s not easy to talk it out when he deflects and runs away from anything that gets anywhere close to what he got up to the past 20 years.

Bruce doesn’t want to pry, but he’s worried. The man before him is so unlike his older brother and it makes him nervous.

Once he finds out he’s devastated for his brother. Especially once JD explains the situation with the boss. And though it sounds kind of awful, Bruce can’t help but feel happy when JD finally cracks and explains it all to them, cause that’s the most like himself he’s seemed in a long time.

—

Branch is a bit of a tough one. Especially since she finds out well before the others,, what with JD being hired to target Poppy and all.

She’s furious when he first shows up, and even more so when she finds out who he is. Cause how could he do this? How could he leave her for twenty years only to come back and threaten to take away the one person she cared for most?

But, she needs him to help save Floyd, so she buries it and moves on. Still never letting herself be comfortable around him.

During the journey she finds herself noticing little things about John Dory. The way he carries himself, the way he tends to get lost in his thoughts. How he always seemed to be on guard.

She can’t help but feel a twinge of,, something.

He seems so much like she did back before she got her colors back.

She really doesn’t know how to feel about that.

When the truth comes out she’s horrified, but she can’t find it in her to blame JD too much. Not with how he describes the boss.

—

Overall, they’re just,, worried about him.

As for the target of all their worries? How does he feel about it all? Honestly, it’s pretty simple.

John Dory hates himself.

He hates every single thing about himself.

He tore his family apart, and almost like that wasn’t enough he just had to tear everyone else’s families apart too.

That’s the worst part, he thinks.

Every target, every hit, every kill. They had families. And all because of John’s mistakes, those families are ripped to shreds.

He can’t even stand to look at his own reflection cause every part of him just serves to remind him of everything he’s done.

Sometimes, especially after fleeing his boss and saving Floyd, he considers running again.

He considers just,, leaving and going back to the Neverglades and just letting the beasts tear him to pieces. At least like that he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

—

But yeah. That’s the gist of it :]

It’s a rough situation but I like to think they manage to navigate it.

Eventually,,

#zesty posts #hitman!john dory #trolls band together #john dory #bruce #clay #branch #floyd #i love them all so much actually

[deep-sea-scholar]

Okay I need to rant about Glass Onion for several paragraphs

WARNING: SPOILERS!

Glass onion is phenomenal, and I personally enjoyed its themes more than the first Knives Out movie.

Now don’t get me wrong, Knives Out is arguably the better film, but its strengths lie in the complexity and brilliant execution of its core mystery.  It’s a fantastic self-contained story about a shitty rich family and the people they directly affect.  The members of the family range across the political spectrum and all express different ideologies, but the moment a migrant working-class woman has a legitimized shot at their inheritance they band together to prevent her from improving her life.  It's interesting commentary on how wealthy people can talk a big game about helping others and being good people, but ultimately fall morally short when such actions threaten what they feel they “rightfully deserve.” But that's arguably the limitation of the film as its focus is entirely on the interpersonal conflict between the Thrombey family and Marta.

Glass onion isn’t limited by that.

The entire thematic core of Glass Onion concerns the damage that the rich and powerful can do to the world if they aren’t supervised, criticized, or limited. 

Aside from our lovely detective Benoit Blanc, the murdered Andi Brand, and her twin sister Helen, all of the characters are shitty people that are damaging the world in a uniquely horrible way as a direct consequence of the unchecked power and wealth they wield.

To start we have Governor Claire Dubella.  Her success in her political career has relied almost entirely on monetary support and influence from the films big bad and Elon Musk/Jeff Bezos analogue Miles Bron. Her platform has good objectives, and she’s passionate about hard topics like climate change, but her ability to act is entirely limited by the influence Miles has on her.  If Miles wants her to do something, she feels like she has no choice but to, which results in her greenlighting an experimental powerplant that Miles wants built to advocate for his new fuel source.  It’s untested technology, it’s volatile and dangerous as fuck, and Claire feels like she has no choice but to go along with it because if she doesn’t Miles will withdraw support from her career, or worse, support her opponents.  She likens it to selling her soul, and it really is.  She willingly undermined the health of her constituents for the sake of saving her career, and the shitty part is that Miles only controls her because she lets him.  She could deny the power plant, or leave Miles, at any time, but she doesn’t because she perceives the personal risk as to great.  She is a politician that won’t stand up for the people she represents, and no one calls her out on it.

Next, we have Duke Cody, the Alpha male men’s rights streamer who is just like, the absolute worst person in this film.  His views and opinions are incredibly toxic, his actions and beliefs directly hurt the people he influences through the hurtful products he promotes, and thanks to Mile's wealth and influence both he and his terrible, terrible, terrible opinions have official backing and some form of legitimacy.  He’s almost the direct inverse of Claire, being someone who really shouldn’t have support, but is getting it anyway because he’s Mile’s friend.  And because Miles doesn’t care and is giving Duke support and helping him dodge legal trouble, he enables Dukes terrible opinions and lets them influence and hurt people.  

Then we have Birdie, my personal favorite of the disruptors.  She is a fashion designer, media star, and breathtakingly, beautifully, stupid. She’s not actively malicious like some of the other characters, but she is just so fundamentally incapable of thinking things through. When paired with her wealth and influence, this results in horrifying real-world consequences.  She has her iconic fashion line of sweatpants made at the most infamous sweatshop in Bangladesh not because she doesn’t care, but because she thought a sweatshop is just a shop where you make sweatpants.  She’s just very stupid, but at the very least has the decency to be aware of it.  She even decides to own up to her Bangladesh mistake of her own volition, independent of the plot.  The problem is that no one corrected for her, or guided her, or worked to influence her decisions.  Miles just cared about what her brands could do for him and was perfectly willing to throw her under the bus to preserve his image.

Last of the four Disruptors is Lionel Toussaint.  Not much to say about him actually, he’s fairly straightforward.  He works directly under Miles as a scientist and is a parallel for the people that want to have confidence in tech ‘pioneers’ like Elon Musk.  After all they’ve been successful, and things have worked out in the past, surely, we can give them leeway with new technology development.  But there’s a reason why technology is prototyped and tested, and that’s because things always go wrong, and you need to take time and care to figure out how to ensure new technology is safe.

Which leads us to this asshole.

Miles goddamn Mona Lisa Burning Bron.

The absolute, motherfucking, shithead moron directly responsible for everything bad that happens in this film.

I lied about Duke Cody because this absolute buffoon is the actually the worst person in this film.

He manipulates politicians into endangering their constituents for his own gain, he enables the absolute worst and most toxic people by giving them legitimate platforms, he promotes influencers without caring for what their unchecked actions result in, and he deludes the people that work for him and want to believe in him with self-assured delusion.  This man is arrogant, an indiscribable moron (worse than Birdie because at least she acknowledges her failings), dangerously delusional, obsessed with control, and most damning of all, unchecked.

Miles Bron is a direct look at how too much unchecked power, wealth, and influence results in unmitigated disasters.  He doesn’t care about helping people, because he doesn’t take the time to make sure untested technology is safe for the public, handwaving legitimate concerns with denial and false assurance.  He doesn’t care about his friends, because he murders two of them the instant, they become a threat to his control.  He’s not smart, because all of his genius is the result of other people, he’s just skilled at advertising it as his own to get the credit.  All he cares about is doing what he wants and being in control, because his opinion and self-worth and legacy is more precious to him than any other thing in the world.  The man is a lie so absolute, so convoluted, and so stupidly straightforward that the slightest piece of truth will bring the facade of his existence crumbling down.  And it’s hard to acknowledge something like that in the real world because someone that successful being that malicious and dumb sounds incredibly stupid.  It’s an easy lie to buy because it’s more believable than how stupid the truth is.

Anyway, ultimately my conclusion is that we see a strikingly accurate portrayal of Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk in this film, and it was very cathartic seeing their hopes, ambitions, and house burn down around them.  Because billionaires like them are shithead morons that lie to and manipulate everyone, and their arrogant and harmful self-delusions compound through the people they manage to influence.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

#knives out #glass onion #benoit blanc #film #mystery film #movie review #elon musk #jeff bezos #Need a hard kick in the nuts #literary analysis #movies #netflix #eat the fucking rich #can't believe a murder mystery radicalized me #rambling

[natalievoncatte]

Spookycorp

Kara’s heart was racing as she stepped out of the elevator. She *knew* something was wrong when Lena sent her a single, clipped text message:

Come now. Need to talk.

The elevator opened directly into Lena’s penthouse, into her elegant, minimalist foyer. The room was dark, as was the rest of the penthouse, except for the light of a single candle. Lena sat on the expansive sofa in her living room, a box resting on her lap. Kara didn’t need to use her x-ray vision to know that it was lined with lead. Her heart sank.

“Come in,” said Lena.

Kara walked inside, waiting at a respectful distance. Lena was beautiful in candlelight, her hair so dark it dark it could drink midnight under the table, eyes sparing like chips of emerald and sapphire, chipped with gold. The light caressed her sharp jawline and made her expression severe and smoldering at the same time.

Kara had fantasies like this. Most of them involved more candlelight and more pale skin.

“I know what you are,” said Lena.

Kara’s heart skipped. She fumbled with her hands.

“You can drop the aw shucks, I’m a farm girl from Vaguely Canada routine, Supergirl.”

Kara’s heart dropped through her stomach.

“I can explain,” she began. “If you give me a chance. Lena, please, I’m your best friend.”

Lena’s eyes hardened. Very softly she said, “am I?”

“How did you find out?”

Lena reached over to her side table, swirled a glass of wine, and took a sip.

“Lex told me. After I killed him. For you.”

Kara swallowed, and took a step forward. “Oh my God. Lena, what happened? What did he do?”

“Stop,” said Lena. “No closer.”

Kara stopped, her chest tightening, tears starting to well in her eyes.

Lena looked down, then up.

“He was going to kill you, and I couldn’t let that happen, because I thought I was in love with you. Before I knew what you are.”

The words hit Kara harder than anything she’d felt before, punching through her heart like the Kryptonite stake that was probably resting in that box. No, it wasn’t possible. She’s been so careful, Kal has been so careful.

“Lex had proof, but I didn’t trust it. I had to find corroboration. That’s why I talked you into taking me to the Fortress, so I could download the records I needed and examine them.”

Kara swallowed. “I would have given you what you wanted if you’d asked.”

“No, you wouldn’t, because you cover your tracks. You tell everyone that your powers come from the sun, but you’re lying.”

Kara wrung her hands, looking out at the moon. It hung full, heavy and huge in the National City sky.

“Not exactly. We have our powers here because Sol affects us differently. It doesn’t…”

“It doesn’t destroy Kryptonian vampires like you and your cousin,” Lena finished. “It doesn’t weaken your powers in sunlight or burn your skin, so you have nothing to fear here but Kryptonite.”

Kara licked her lips, feeling her fangs aching in her gums as they often did when Lena Luthor was in the room.

“Have you ever fed on me? I know about the other powers, Kara. The ones you and your cousin haven’t told everyone one about. Like modifying memories.”

Kara started. “What? No. I don’t feed directly on humans. When I was younger, my human family took turns giving me a unit of whole blood a month. That’s all I need. We don’t need as much on Earth. I’ve never bitten anyone on Earth. Kal-El trained me not to when I arrived here. Lena, I promise, I’m not some kind of predator.”

Kara edged closer, and Lena put her hand on the box. Kara froze.

“Liar.”

“Lena, please.”

“Your cousin has been feeding on Lois Lane for years. Lex had proof. Very thorough proof. He’s not as slick as he thinks, your Clark.”

Kara looked down.

“It was her choice. It’s tradition for my people. When one of us falls in love, we…”

“What, start seeing your ‘lover’ as a glorified bag of cheeze-its?”

Kara shifted on her feet. “No, we turn them. Clark is going to turn her after they marry. She’ll be like us.”

Lena’s gaze bored into her.

“I had to know, and now I do.”

“Lena, I would never hurt you, or feed on you against your will. I never feed on anyone against their will.”

“You’re lying.”

“Lena.”

“Lex had proof of that, too,” said Lena. “You do feed. On criminals, on people you think won’t be missed, and on James.”

“James was willing,” said Kara. “The others… it hurts, Lena. Clark’s path is hard. Too hard. I’m not perfect. You can’t imagine what the thirst is like. It’s like a hot railroad spike in my gut. I need it.”

“I thought about this for a long time,” said Lena. “I had to look you in the eye and hear it from you. I didn’t know what to do. You feed on people’s blood, but the city… the world needs Supergirl. So what do I do?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” said Kara. “I can just go, or… I don’t want to go, Lena. I know you’re upset, I know you’re mad, but you asked me here for a reason. I know you want to give me a chance. What we have, our friendship, it’s bigger than this. It can survive this. I want it to.”

Lena sighed. “Kara, I killed my brother for you, in cold blood.”

Kara swallowed. “I know. I know you loved him. I’m so sorry. I wish I could have helped you somehow. Maybe if I’d told you my identity earlier, we could have saved him.”

Lena opened the box.

Kara jolted back, expecting sickly pustulant light to sear the flesh from her bones, but there was no Kryptonite in the box.

Instead there was a pair of silvery bracelets, resting on black velvet.

“I had to make sure you couldn’t see inside,” said Lena. “No peeking.”

Kara swallowed, hard. “Those are binding bracelets. Do you know what those are for?”

Lena nodded slowly.

“You can come closer now. Sit.”

Kara stepped around the coffee table and sat primly near Lena, at a respectful distance, hands folded in her lap.

Lena leaned back against the arm rest and pulled her inky black hair back from her neck, tilting her chin back. Offering.

Kara could smell her, the scent exploding in her nostrils. She could feel Lena’s pulse and her own began to throb in time with it, the aching in her gums exceeded by the pleasant ache between her legs.

“What are you doing?” Kara murmured.

“Offering.”

“Why?”

Lena reached out and caressed her bare foot along Kara’s calf. Kara couldn’t help it. Her fangs popped out against her will for the first time in ages.

“Does it feel good for Lois? When he feeds on her?”

“So I’m told. Our fangs secret a mild neurotoxin that has some pleasant effects.”

“How long have you been thinking about tasting me?”

Kara shuddered. “It’s not like that. You’re my best friend.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “You know, I used to think you were just oblivious, or very, very closeted. Now I get it.”

“Lena,” Kara said, more urgently.

Lena’s foot slid higher up Kara’s leg. “It must be hard holding back all that hunger. Surrounded by food you can never taste. Is that why you’re always stuffing yourself with potstickers? You’d rather be eating me?”

Kara swallowed, hard.

“Maybe. Yes.”

“I’m right here.”

“I won’t. Not unless you say it, Lena. Not unless you offer it. Explicitly.”

“Kara, do it. Take me.”

Kara lunged across the sofa, pulling Lena to her so she lay flat on the cushions, and drove her fangs into Lena’s throat as she ground her thigh between Lena’s legs. She knew what Lena planned and she didn’t care.

Lena yelped in pain from the puncture wounds, but her cry quickly melted into a pleasurable moan as she writhed beneath Kara, driving her nails into Kara’s back.

Kara drank slowly, gently, taking only a trickle and feeling Lena’s pulse in her throat. She’d wanted this for so long, she started to weep from the sheer release of it, tears streaming down her cheeks. Lena’s blood sang with magic, the taste of her more intense than the most exotic spices, more flavorful than the sweetest wine. It was better than sex, although now that she had Lena’s blood on her tongue, she was hoping that was on the menu, too.

She heard the click and felt the cold metal close around her wrist and sighed.

“So that’s your solution,” Kara whispered.

“Lex couldn’t make it work,” said Lena. “I always loved how much it pissed him off that his bastard sister has magic and he doesn’t.”

Lena closed the other bonding bracelet around her own wrist, and Kara instantly felt the weight of the connection, the power in it, and knew she was helpless. She didn’t care.

“Kneel,” said Lena.

Kara slid off of Lena and onto her knees, head bowed.

“There,” said Lena. “Now I know. I know the world gets to keep Supergirl and I know you’re not a threat.”

“I knew what you were going to do,” said Kara. “I let you. If this is what you need to trust me, I’m okay with it.”

Lena took Kara’s chin in her fingers and tilted her head up, leaning forward to meet her gaze.

“I could do whatever I want with you now. With a Kryptonian vampire under my control, I could rule the world.”

“You could,” Kara whispered. “You can make me do it whatever you please. You never needed magic for that. I would do it willingly.”

“I know,” said Lena, “but this is going to be a lot of fun.”

“I was a little worried you’d tell me never to see you again,” said Kara. “Or you’d demand I turn you.”

Lena laughed. “Darling, do you have any idea how much power I’d have to give up to become a vampire?”

Lena ran a hand down Kara’s arm, squeezing her bicep.

“Now, carry me to the bedroom and let’s see what you can do.”

Kara didn’t need to be ordered to do that.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #supercorptober2023 #borderline smut #kryptonians are vampires #lena is a witch #magic kink #kinky magic #kinkycorp #supercorptober

[sebbyisland]

A One-of-a-Kind Affection: Skip to Loafer 53

This chapter revealed a LOT about Shima’s character so let’s break it down because oh my god. OH my god.

As was implied in the last page of the previous chapter, Shima is seriously put off guard by his conversation with Fumi. He can’t get over her comment: “Mitsumi-chan isn’t good at anything besides studying, is she?” She directly contradicts how Shima views Mitsumi, and thus prompts him to reevaluate his feelings.

To him, Mitsumi “has this image of always being right.” Keep in mind, Shima has already seen Mitsumi at her worst— from the very beginning, when she got lost in Tokyo! Shima has been there when Mitsumi failed, struggled, or was embarrassed with herself, and each time he only saw the girl who could pick herself up and run towards her goals, loafers in hand. He not only watched these things happen, but tried to give her a helping hand when she needed it, whether it was to encourage her, or help smooth out an awkward social situation. When Shima says Mitsumi “has this image of always being right” he doesn’t mean she is literally always right, but something with much more depth. Shima thinks Mitsumi, as a person, is fundamentally always right and good. Even when she fails. Even when she struggles. These are all things that make up Mitsumi, and therefore are always good (this guy. i can't).

The thing is, Shima himself is not even aware of just how highly he thinks of Mitsumi. He can acknowledge Mitsumi’s strengths and weaknesses, but unlike, say, Fumi, her closest and longest friend, he can't conceptualize objectively seeing Mitsumi's traits as anything other than positive. He likes her personality to the point it borders on putting her on a pedestal. This discrepancy between his opinion on Mitsumi and another close friend of Mitsumi causes him to question who IS Mitsumi, if not what he's been thinking this whole time?

To verify, he asks his friend Mukai, who basically repeats Fumi's words. Now Shima knows this is not a question of who is Mitsumi as a person, but who is Mitsumi to Shima?

(Shouout to Mukai for really helping Shima reach this critical break-through!)

When Mukai brings up the possibility of romance, Shima leaps to reject it because he is uncomfortable with romantic attraction itself.

Besides Mitsumi, romantic attraction always came from people who didn’t really know him and/or didn’t really care to know him. This had the opposite affect, and made Shima feel lonely and unloved. Unlike the most of the people Shima has dated, he actually really likes Mitsumi-chan as a person. There's an emphasis on liking her as a person because these are things he sees as absent or optional in romantic attraction. To describe his feelings for Mitsumi as romance discredits Mitsumi and what she means to him, which is why he asks with a frustrated expression, "Why does it always come back to romance?" Why does "liking someone a lot" have to be romantic?

Mukai hears this and recognizes that Shima seems to see “liking someone as a person” and “liking someone romantically” as separate things, so he tries to compare notes as to how he views romance vs how Shima views romance. On a scale of liking someone "a lot" to "not really" Shima places romance at the very bottom! Romance doesn't mean shit in comparison to friendship, or whatever it is he feels for Mitsumi. This makes sense because, again, Shima understands romantic attraction at best as a surface-level understanding of a person, and at worst as a detriment to the relationship(see: his parents). So there's no way he can like Mitsumi romantically AND as a person.

Mukai explains to Shima that he sees "liking someone as a person is a baseline," which aligns more closely to the common social perception of relationships. You start with liking the general vibes someone has, and then you becomes friends, and then becoming lovers is like the peak of a relationship's level of intimacy and affection. What's interesting is that both boys are correct about their perception of love. Even though Shima doesn't fully agree with Mukai, talking with him provides a new perspective on romance that Shima didn't consider before. Now he can finally consider that romance can add to a realationship's existing intimacy, not detract from it.

For most of the people in the story, as well as the audience, this might seem obvious, but for Shima this is incredibly novel and important, because it means that

Liking Mitsumi romantically doesn't mean he stops liking her as a person

Romantic attraction is another form of intimacy, not a performance or surface-level interaction.

When Mukai describes Mitsumi's feelings as a "one-of-a-kind" affection, he means it in a conventionally romantic way. Shima, on the other hand, understands Mitsumi is one-of-a-kind because he's never had a relationship or feelings like he does with her. He knows Mitsumi cares about him as a person, but before his conversation with Mukai, he didn't consider how romance can be another way of showing that you care for someone.

Romance between his parents only showed how much his father didn't care about his mom. Romance with the girls from school only showed how much they didn't really care about him. But Mitsumi fell in love with Shima because she cares about him, not despite of it. This is completely foreign territory for Shima. If romantic love is also a form of intimacy, then how is that any different from regular platonic love, or best friends? What does romantic attraction even look like?

As Shima recollects all the moments with Mitsumi that are dear to him, he wonders if what he viewed as "caring for someone as a person" were also romantic. Is it romantic to save extra food for someone else to have? Is it romantic to bring someone a souvenir when they go out of town? Is it romantic to teach someone how to hold a crab? These questions don't really have clear cut answers. Only Shima is able to decide what these things mean for him.

I want to bring your attention back to this crab, though. Besides being an adorable little crustacean, Shima's interaction with the crab directly parallels his journey trying to recontextualize romance.

In this scene, the crab is symbolic for romantic attraction. Shima awkwardly holds the crab Mitsumi gives him and expresses that this is an unfamiliar situation for him, just as receiving romantic affection from Mitsumi is a new and concept for him. Mitsumi is content with being able to share the crab (her feelings) with him and getting an honest answer back. The large panel that zooms in on Mitsumi looking down at the crab in Shima's hands draws attention to how content and happy she is spending time with Shima. It further emphasizes that their relationship, romantic or platonic, is about simply enjoying each other's company.

Even though Mitsumi tells Shima how to hold a crab, he ends up agitating the crab, which then pinches him and leave. I interpret this as when Shima initially started dating Mitsumi, he ended up treating it haphazardly, which caused Mitsumi to catch-on and break up with him. Finally, when Mukai, the person Shima was recently discussing romance and Mitsumi with, asks him about the crab, Shima responds in a daze, "I don't know," mirroring how currently, Shima doesn't know how he feels about romantic attraction, or how it might apply to him.

Furthermore, through the depiction of Mitsumi in Shima’s perspective, it’s implied the reason the crab pinches him is because he was focused on Mitsumi, and not holding the crab properly. This reflects the critical miscommunication from when they were dating. Shima was so concerned with protecting his prior dynamic with Mitsumi that he didn’t consider what committing to a genuine romantic relationship would require from him. He didn’t, or rather couldn’t, commit to a relationship as much as Mitsumi did. Mitsumi knew that she didn’t deserve that kind of stress, so she asked to remain friends.

Thanks to Mukai, however, Shima can start to understand that romance is a real option for his own feelings about Mitsumi, and it won't detract from their friendship if it is the case. It's this level of self-awareness that allows Shima to get flustered by Mitsumi getting physically close to him as they look at the crab.

I would even argue that it was the panel I have pictured on the left, with Mitsumi's smile, that is the moment Shima started getting flustered, since that panel is positioned to be in Shima's eye-line point of view, and takes up the majority of its page.

What is Shima thinking in this moment? He has 0 thoughts. Brain empty. Only one-of-a-kind feelings for a girl who he thinks is always amazing<3

I wanna reiterate this is truly such a special moment for Shima because while Mitsumi has always been a special person to him, he now understands that he thinks so because of his PERSONAL feelings. In caring for Mitsumi, Shima is able to care more about his own feelings. It’s a lovely payoff to all of his progress in understanding himself as an individual. He can discuss his personal life with Mukai, a friend who he previously kept at a distance. He can l stand up for himself when he thinks he being mistreated by an old friend. And he can even defend the people he cares about when other’s are inconsiderate to them. This is all part of Shima’s growth into becoming a fully realizing individual, and I’m so glad he’s been given the space to clumsily process all of this while remaining a true friend to Mitsumi.

TL; DR:

Shima truly adores Mitsumi and has only just realized that he likes Mitsumi to a different degree than what would be expected from a friend

Shima has been nonchalant about romance thus far because he didn't think romance was really about genuine intimacy, especially based on his past experiences

The narrative presents Shima's interest in Mitsumi as romantic attraction while taking great care in showing how romance has different meanings for different people and is not always the most important or intimate aspect of a relationship

#NO BECAUSE I CAN'T FUCKING DO THIS ANYMORE #skip to loafer #skip to loafer 53 #shima sousuke #skip to loafer manga #seb out #ON PRIDE MONTH ?!?! #AROACE SHIMA RIGHTS LETS GOOOOOOOOO #ወሬ

[blackreaderfics]

TIANAMI HEADCANONS

↳ Pairing : Nanami Kento x Tiana

↳ A/N: this is literally from the top of my head from pining stage all the way to marriage.

↳ Warnings: NSFW at the end so minors dni‼️

Pining Stage

-At Tiana’s Café Nanami either orders prepackaged foods or the simplest thing to prepare on the menu i.e black tea. All she needs to do is put the tea bag in 💀 He doesn’t want to add to the work that she already does.

-Nanami doesn’t like sweets. He can only eat the desserts Tiana makes. Makes a point to buy beignets all the time because he sees how she lights up when people buy them.

-If Japan had tipping culture he would tip but instead he buys those novelty items they sell at the cafe like mugs or cups. He gives them as customary/holiday gifts to his coworkers/friends or keeps them.

-Highly attuned to social cues. Aware if someone likes him or is flirting. I wouldn’t say he’s shy—he used to be when he was younger—but now he’s just extremely jaded and pessimistic. A glass half empty kind of person (working corporate in a big city will do that to you😪) He could look like he’s shying away if Tiana flirts with him but only because he doesn’t trust others easily at first.

-Nanami didn’t ever have an ideal type. He always thought about getting married but didn’t have a fully formed idea of the kind of woman he would marry until he met Tiana. This is before they even go on the first date lol.

Dating Stage

-The beginnings of the relationship start out incredibly formally. Tiana felt he was asking to hire her instead of asking her out on a date 💀 Otherwise he’s very straightforward. There’s no beating around the bush, no situationship no fwb, he’s a very traditional man. He courts then marries.

-Such a daydreamer. After one date he’s already thinking about the house they’ll buy and kids they’re going to have.

-The ultimate gentleman. Opens all doors, carries all things. Pays for everything. He’s a provider and takes care of his partner.

-Nanami walks Tiana home from work every night. If he’s working overtime and can’t make it he will send an already paid taxi or a trusted friend to her cafe to bring her home.

Committed Relationship Stage

-Nanami doesn’t think much about his own appearance or attractiveness. Like he doesn’t think he’s handsome not bc of low self esteem but bc he just doesn’t think about it at all.

-He values neatness and cleanliness though. He also takes notes of other people’s appearances but doesn’t dwell on them. Like he can be like “she’s beautiful” and then just move on. In love, it’s slightly different. Idk how to explain it he just loves his person very much. They are more than arbitrary beauty, they’re everything and more to him.

-Notices absolutely everything. That one dress she liked in the window, he’ll remember it and come back alone to buy it as a gift. Discomfort on his partner’s face, slight change of mood. He’s very observant so he will never be clueless about that.

-Would never cheat😒 like… he’s Nanami. He is courteous. If he wants another relationship he’ll break things off cleanly with his old partner.

-He really trusts his partner. He isn’t a jealous man. Things will only affect him if he or his partner are directly disrespected. Men flirting with his partner in front of him is disrespect and he won’t take it lightly.

-Because of some of those traits he could be prone to getting taken advantage of, but I doubt it ever reaches that because Nanami is very discerning and careful about the partners he picks. So it’s highly unlikely he would end up with someone that takes advantage of him.

-Also he’s a bit pure? Of course he has sexual needs, but the smallest things gets his heart thumping. The tiniest gestures like Tiana leaving a love note in his bag? Or the smallest details like when he sees her shoes in the doorway when he gets home.

-Would literally not mind if Tiana called him about any minor inconvenience. (She wouldn’t of course) but if he heard her say something offhand about anything that’s broken or doesn’t work he’d figure out how to fix it ASAP. He’s all about efficiency so consider it done in the most efficient way possible. If he can do it by himself he will, if paying someone to do it is more efficient he’ll do that too.

-Needs to know where his partner is at all times. Like if they’re both on opposite sides of the room, he’s always glancing to make sure of her location, just in case.

-Random but he’s really fast at calculations. And keeps track of literally everything. Idk if that’s weird but he knows his partner’s cycle 😭 He knows everything about her health, dietary needs, medical history…etc He’s well prepared if something were to happen

-He speaks like an 18th century vampire if I’m being honest😭 If you text him “where are u” he’s just like “I have arrived…” Also uses ellipses a lot … 💀 but most times he just calls, doesn’t text.

Marriage Stage

-I think he’s always had eccentric tastes for a Japanese man. Like if not Tiana he definitely would’ve married outside his race one way or another. Or outside what is expected for your average Japanese salaryman.

-He remains formal in speech with his wife even if they’re the same age or married. There are couples that choose to drop honorifics and be informal with each other. But he remains formal because he sees it as a form of respect to his partner. The most informal he’ll go is using first names. Still sometimes says “Ms.Tiana” except now it’s “Mrs.Tiana”

-Nicknames and terms of endearment are more traditional. At work it’s “my wife”; At home it’s “darling” or “my love”

NSFW

-In a committed relationship Nanami is incredibly touchy in private. Literally needs to have his hands touching her at all times. Groping fetish?? Likes to squeeze ass and titties, maybe press his erection against from behind.

-Probably has a voice kink. Wants to just hear her talk all day. If he’s away, will call for no reason except to hear her voice. Will probably want to hear her speak as he fucks her. Doesn’t matter the content like she could be talking about how her day went and that could send him over.

-He can be gloomy but he’s the biggest romantic ever. When Nanami falls in love he falls hard. And he’s even willing to try anything if his partner wants it. Bottoming, subbing, femdom, even humiliation whatever. He won’t care because he trusts his partner. The only thing he probably wouldn’t do is anything public but behind closed doors all bets are off.

-Gains pleasure from his partner’s pleasure. It’s not a praise kink persay. He doesn’t care to be praised but if she likes it, he loves it. Likes to hear her moan, claw his back, grab his hair; any indications that it’s pleasurable for her.

-When he’s tired he likes when she’s on top. Also likes when some clothing is still on. That could be because he’s too tired to take it off? Or making a neatly dressed woman all messy is a kink for him.

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to saradika for the dividers

#this was supposed to be a little mini thing #I did not really proof this I hope y’all understand my rambling and run on sentences 😁 #tianami #tianami headcanons #nanami kento headcanons #jjk headcanons #jjk x disney #nanami x tiana #tiana x nanami #freeform.brf

[contentloadingandstuff]

Lisa, Kujou Sara and Ningguang caring for a sick S/O

A/N: Just some short and silly headcanons since I'm a little ill. The characters were picked by The Wheel. Don't ask why ALF is on the cover.

Lisa

"Don't worry, sweetie. Mommy Lisa will take very good care of you~" 

Enough said, Lisa is an expert at potion crafting. As soon as she notices you're sick, you'll have one of her most effective tinctures delivered to you in no time. It's bitter, but it will help - you'll be frolicking again in just a few days. If it helps, she'll be more than happy to spoon feed it to you! 

Nothing helps the body quite like a rich broth. Add some chicken, boil with carrots and top it off with some fresh marjoram straight from the windowsill, and viola - just like that you have yourself a tasty revitalizing soup. Lisa doesn't like eating meat, but she knows how important proteins are for recovery. 

Tending to you is a great opportunity to pamper the absolute life out of you. Tissues and medicine? Right on the spot. Feeling peckish? Here, let her feed you. Thirsty? The best tea will be brought directly to you. Sleepy? Lisa will tuck you in, or let you rest your head on her thighs if you want to. You will have everything you need and even more without having to move an inch. 

Lying in bed is important - it lets your body sleep and regain strength. Still, boredom strikes sometimes. Lisa will provide you with a few books from her personal collection. If you're too tired to read yourself, she will do it out loud. Her narration skills are really something special, and will keep you entertained for hours on end, or until you doze off in her caring arms. 

Kujou Sara

“The medic will be here shortly. Do you need tea or a cold compress?”

Although Sara isn’t well-known for her caring nature, she really does worry about you. Inazuma’s climate tends to be quite harsh, with all the frigid sea winds blowing through the islands day by day. Even a minor ailment can quickly turn into a long-term illness in these conditions, so she will convince you to stay home when the first symptoms appear.

If you work in the military, your leave will be signed by her without further issues. If you’re working in the civilian market, however, she won’t restrain from using her position to ensure your leave is approved by your boss. Because who in their right mind would argue with the Tengu General herself?

It has been some time since the conclusion of the Inazuman civil war, so most work regarding that period is far behind her. Sara’s general duties revolve mainly around paperwork - reading through inventory reports, approving funding requests and purchases as well as some officer training meetings every now and then. Thanks to that fact, she can work from home and keep an eye on you.

Sara isn’t the best of cooks, so most meals will be handled by your maids. This doesn’t mean she won’t contribute to your recovery. She will check up on you frequently, whether to see if you’re taking your medicine correctly, or just to keep you company.

Of course she will call a physician to examine you, and buy all the necessary medicine - she has an immense pile of money saved up due to her fairly modest lifestyle. 

One thing though - she’s sleeping on the couch. Sara can’t afford to get ill herself, even if it means forcing you to recover in a cold bed. Don’t you worry, she will give you more than enough affection to make up for that shortage once you’re back in full health. 

Ningguang

“Don’t worry, my dear. You will get better soon. Meanwhile, why don’t you try another cup of tea? I am sure it will help.”

Ningguang is a busy woman who has no time for sickness. But you? She’ll make sure you get the proper rest, else your weakened body will fall to another illness. There will be no work for you until you are fully recovered - just like Sara, Ningguang will not hesitate to pull a few strings to make sure you can rest without worry.

Baizhu will deliver only his best products, as money is hardly a concern for Ningguang. Every Mora used to help you get better is a Mora well-spent in her eyes. 

Although not a doctor by any means, Ningguang will use some homemade remedies as well - especially white tea with two spoonfuls of honey. The warm sugary drink will surely bring back your strength in no time… or at least lift your spirits. 

She will check up on you from time to time, yes, but will not take a day off. Liyue needs her, and there’s always money to be made. 

Ningguang will make sure to keep her distance - even if it is just a cold, it could affect her as well and make her work that much more annoying. That means no cuddles until you’re healthy - but, with the best medicine money can buy, you’ll be in her arms in no time.

Thanks for reading!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #sickfic #genshin sickfic #genshin impact kujou sara #kujou sara #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara x male reader #kujou sara x you #kujou sara x y/n #kujou sara fluff #genshin impact lisa #lisa minici #lisa x reader #lisa x male reader #lisa x you #lisa x y/n #lisa fluff #genshin impact ningguang #ningguang #ningguang x reader #ningguang x male reader #ningguang x you

[604to647]

Mi Galleta (Part 4 - Oatmeal Raisin)

6.4K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: Pero tries to get back in your good graces.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), angst, reader is hard on herself, pining, pet names (Cookie, princesa, hermosa, etc.), standard warning for Biker!Pero even though this isn't a biker AU, reader can wear Pero's shirt, eventual smut, unprotected PiV, oral (f receiving), they are IN LOVE OKAY 🥹

A/N: It's a HEA, don't worry! Thank you so much to everyone who has followed along with this mini-series! I can't believe I completed something 🥹

Series Masterlist

Pero is desperate to see you and to serve his penance for whatever you may have heard, but you won’t return any of his messages and all his calls go straight to voicemail; he’s pretty sure he’s been blocked.  Of course, he knows where you work and where you live, but he doesn’t want to scare you or make any of your spaces feel unsafe by showing up unwanted and unannounced, so he doesn’t go to you.  But it’s killing him.

You don’t come to the restaurant and neither do your friends.  In fact, the closest Pero comes to you for a month is when he spots Dorothy leaving one of Lin’s sister restaurants.  He had stopped by to grab some paper work when he sees her getting her coat from the coat check; after he calls her name, he watches her internally debate whether or not to ignore him, eventually separating from her party to stalk over to where he's awkwardly waiting.

“How is she?” he begs, unable to muster even a greeting or something remotely more eloquent.

Dorothy extends her hand and points her index finger directly into his chest, the force with which she pokes him shoving him back, “Leave her alone or I’ll make your life a living hell.”

She stomps off without another word, and he’s left feeling even worse than before; he can only imagine that Dorothy’s ire is reflective of yours.

He has to talk to you, has to know what you heard those assholes say so he can explain and soothe away the hurt caused.  But he doesn’t know how.

---

It’s worse than Pero thinks.  He’s broken you.  You remember sharing with him your insecurities surrounding letting your family’s wealth, or money in general, define you; Pero had nodded sympathetically as you explained how important it is for you to carve something into this world beyond the privilege that’s so plainly etched into your very presence.  It would be one thing if he thought you silly.  But this… to know that money is all he saw when he looked at you?  To hear Pero, William and those men reduce you to nothing more than a rich bitch, and write you off as unworthy of respect, undeserving of true affection?  It made you feel dirty.  Your money made you dirty.

You’re humiliated.  And your heart is broken.

You’re hard on yourself.  How could you have been so stupid?  Did you really think a few cookies and a kind smile would truly win over a man who abhorred snobbery?  He must have pegged you for an empty, vapid trophy fuck the first time he met you when you were just some entitled brat who wanted to eat at a fancy restaurant.  Why would he ever think differently of you?  How stupid of you to think he might.

Once in a while, you will recall Pero’s whispered sweet nothings and his soft touches, and your eyes will well up immediately.  He had fooled you so good.  You wonder if it disgusted him to pretend to care for you when he actually found you pathetic.  Or did it amuse him how easily you had fallen for his charms? Did he laugh at your dumb naïve heart?  You hate yourself a little for being so stupid. 

And you hate yourself a lot for still missing him.

“Guess what?” asks your boss, excited.

“What?” you can’t help but grin.  Greg is a good boss.  He’s mentored and trained you, and for the past few years, he’s treated you like his co-lead on the team, giving you the opportunities and responsibilities to help you rise in your career; broadcasting your value to the firm by seeking and relying on your opinions and decisions.  He’s a good egg.  You’re really lucky.

“Joanna is coming to town!”

Ahhh… Joanna is Greg’s boss.  She’s a good boss too, just a bit more restrained in her positive feedback than Greg would probably like; more than once you’ve surmised that Greg cultivated with you the type of mentor-mentee relationship that he had hoped for with Joanna.  Still, she’s an important figure at the firm and Greg loves impressing her. 

“That’s great!  Where are we going for lunch?” your eyes twinkle; if there was one thing Joanna likes, it was going out to eat on the company’s dime.

“Well… I need to ask a favour.”

“Ask away,” you smile, if you can help Greg get on Joanna’s good side, you’re happy to do it.

“I know you’ve been to that restaurant Lin?  The one on Cardero and has the rave reviews for its fusion food?  Joanna read about it and wants to go.”

Your heart drops the moment he says the name of the restaurant, but you successfully keep a placid expression in place and nod.

“I heard it’s hard to get into.  Impossible.  No, actually, I can’t even find out how to do it?  Do you have any idea?  Or… do you think you could get us in?” Greg puts his hands up in prayer and makes a puppy dog face at you, complete with comical pout.

It’s been almost two months since the day you had run away from Lin; no, since the day when those disgusting words and the sound of Pero’s cruel laugh had chased you out.  You and your friends haven’t been back, and to be honest, you haven’t done much going out since.  Eloise and Dorothy were perfectly happy to stay in with you, watch old movies, drink wine and wallow, but you hadn’t wanted them to miss out on the city scene; besides, as you reminded them, it was their job to go out.  So, at your insistence, they had gone back to the social scene, leaving you at home with your still very broken heart.  The idea of seeing Pero, of asking him for a favour, gives you a stomach ache just thinking about it.  Would he laugh in your face?  Pretend he didn’t know you?  Some other equally awful possibility your imagination isn’t masochistic enough to come up with?  Probably.  But, Dorothy did say she had a run in with Pero at another restaurant a couple of weeks ago; perhaps he no longer worked at Lin.  You wrestle internally with whether or not you want that to be true, but agree with Greg that it’s worth you giving it a try.

Pero barely registers when a group of patrons file into the lobby, most of them stepping aside into the waiting area, probably waiting for all of their party to show up.  He gives them a cursory glance while maintaining his glowering expression; he counts seven (so far) office workers.  After less than a minute, a man and a tall woman who’s impeccably dressed, walk in.  The man is chatting excitably to her, and she is giving him polite responses while taking in the surroundings of the lobby with an air of condescension.  Unexpectedly, they also move aside to join the group that’s waiting.  Pero would have thought these two were heading up the party, but he doesn’t have any time to register his surprise because the figure that was hidden by theirs, revealed when they moved to the side, is yours.

Although you’re not making eye contact with him, you do continue walking towards him and Pero’s heart leaps into his throat; he holds his breath until you reach his desk.

“Hi,” you finally raise your eyes to look at him. 

“Hi,” he exhales.  His heart hurts.  Your eyes seem dimmed, and you look like you’re trying to make yourself small, like you would rather be anywhere but here.

“I’m sorry to have to ask.  My boss’ boss is in town,” you give a small smile when you look over and nod in their direction before turning back to Pero, “She really wanted to eat here, and my boss really wants to impress her.  Do you think it would be possible?  I’m sorry to ask this of you.”

Pero can’t stop looking at you.  You’re more beautiful than he remembered.  And still so sweet and kind.  Even now, it’s clear you don’t want to be here, but you’re extending yourself to help someone else.  He wishes you knew you didn’t have to apologize.  He would never deny you anything, happily give you anything you desired, “It’s not a problem, you don’t need to apologize.  How many are you?  I’ll call up to Leah to expect you.”

“Leah?!” your face lights up knowing that one of people you were closest to at the restaurant is working today, “Oh!  I’m so glad! We’re ten, thank you.”

So thrilled and relieved to see your smile, Pero can’t help but break out into a grin himself, breaking the illusion of the fearsome bouncer he’s supposed to be, “She’ll be glad to see you as well.  Come on, call your party over.”

After everyone has filed into the elevator, you step in last and watch as Pero reaches in to press the button; for the first time today, you really look at him and mouth, “Thank you.”

Upstairs, you find Leah waiting for you with a big smile and an even bigger hug; after an enthusiastic greeting to you and your party, she leads you to one of the best tables in the restaurant.  You see Greg giving you a discreet thumbs up as Joanna looks around the large dining room, marveling at the elegant décor. 

“We would like to offer you our Chef’s tasting menu today.  It’s 12-courses, chef’s choice of his favourite dishes.”

“Oh!“ you look at Greg unsure, and he in turn also looks very unsure, especially when he sees Joanna smiling broadly; it sounds very expensive, maybe too expensive for a corporate lunch.  You’re just contemplating how you can manage to discreetly cover some of the cost when Leah shocks you, “Everything today is complimentary, please don’t be shy.  It’s everyone at Lin’s pleasure to have you as our guests.”

“Leah,” you start to protest, but she shushes you with a knowing look in her eye and a conspiratorial smile.

“That sounds wonderful!” exclaims Joanna, and when you see how she beams, impressed, at Greg, you nod in assent at Leah, who grins back at you.  After she leaves to put in everyone’s drink order, you excuse yourself and follow her.

“LEAH!!” you hiss, when you catch-up to her next to the kitchen.

“Yes?” she looks up at you with an innocent expression.

“That’s too much! Let me pay for some of this!”

“No can do, hun.  I’m under strict orders to spare no expense for your table today.  Give your boss’ boss the VIP experience.”

“Oh Leah,” you soften.

“He misses you.”

You don’t have a response to that.

“And he’s been a miserable grump to everyone at the restaurant.”

This you can easily believe, “I’m sorry, Leah.  He… broke my heart.”

She looks at you like maybe she knows something you don’t, but also with something like sympathy; after another hug she makes a silly shooing motion with her hands, “Go on back to the table.  Drinks and the first course will be out shortly.”

Lunch is superb.  Each course more tantalizing than the last.  One might have thought 12 courses was too many, but each dish is perfectly portioned and sequenced so that the flavours of each course build upon the one previous, culminating in one very satisfying meal.  Elevating the food to another level is the impeccable service and attention that you and your table receives.  It seems like your party is attended to by more than twice the usual staff; each person’s needs anticipated before they can even voice them, leaving them wanting for nothing.  At one point, you choke down a chuckle because it reminds of you those regency dinner scenes where each diner has a footman standing right behind them; it’s almost too much, but Joanna is eating it up.  Greg is elated, and you couldn’t be more pleased at seeing him triumph. 

When the after-meal coffee and tea is served, a giant cookie is wedged between your cup and its saucer; ginger molasses, your favourite.  You take a nibble and it’s heavenly.

“Hey!  How come the rest of us don’t get cookies?” jokes one of your teammates.  You look around and realize it’s true, you’re the only one that got a cookie.

Leah is quick to answer, “It’s an apology cookie.  For our lackluster performance the last time she was here.”

You know the true meaning behind the gesture and these words, but you can’t help but shake your head, “Don’t be ridiculous, no apology is necessary.  And even if one was warranted, which it is NOT, today’s exemplary service and food would have been more than enough.  We couldn’t be more impressed.  Thank you so, so much.”

Your table mates echo your sentiments and thanks.

Before you leave you leave the restaurant with your team, you force Leah to process a generous tip for all the staff on your card; she tries to protest but stops when you give her a scowl that you think would rival Pero’s.  Giving her a hug goodbye, coupled with a promise that you’ll try to come back soon, you ride the elevator back downstairs a jumble of emotions.

There’s no doubt in your mind that the special treatment your table received today was at Pero’s behest, but why would he bother?  It was enough that he had granted your party access, nothing else had been expected or needed; but the staff had gone out of their way to make sure your experience had been special, that Joanna was impressed and wowed.  You sneak a look at Greg’s expression next to you; he’s positively glowing.  You decide that you could drive yourself crazy trying to understand Pero’s motivations, but the important thing was that he had gone to great lengths for you when he didn’t need to and you’re extremely grateful.

You find that you don’t dread seeing him now the same way you did when you came in earlier, actually looking forward to thanking him for the kindness he has just shown you and your co-workers.

You’re the last to leave elevator and by the time Pero’s desk comes into view, you see that half of your teammates have already exited the building.  Ahead of you, Greg is earnestly shaking Pero’s hand, thanking him for his hospitality and singing the praises of the restaurant.  When you see Pero’s kind expression and the sincerity with which he clasps Greg’s hand in thanks, your already softening heart melts a little more.

Finally, it’s your turn. Pero’s been waiting for you.  Waiting since the elevator doors closed earlier.  Waiting since the day he knew you were last in this very lobby.  Your eyes don’t leave his as you approach; he thinks the expression in your eyes is a little softer than earlier, a little bit of the light that he’s missed is back.  For a what feels like an eternity, neither of you say anything, then simultaneously,

“Cookie…”

“Thank you.”  Pero gestures for you to go first.

“Pero, thank you.  The lunch was such a success and an incredible dining experience in and of itself.  I know it was all because of you.  Thank you.”

“Cookie.  Not me.  It was because of you.  Everything was for you,” Pero’s tone soft and pleading.  He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he can barely contain his emotions.  To have you here before him, your sweet face looking at him like you with something that isn’t the imagined hate that’s been haunting him – it's all he’s been hoping for for the past two months.

You don’t know what to say.  Why would he do this for me?

About to thank him again, you’re stopped when Pero holds something out to you.  It’s an empty container.  The one previously filled with the snickerdoodles you had forgotten on his desk the last time you were in this lobby.  Everything comes rushing back now.  Your chest tightens at the memory of the crass and demeaning words you overheard and the harshness of Pero’s cruel laughter that still rings in your ears.  And just like that, your good mood is shattered, much like your heart. 

You take the container back, hands shaking, and mumble another thanks; leaving quickly before you start to cry.

Pero stares at your retreating form, knowing that you’re hurting and feeling helpless that he can’t do anything but be the cause.

---

You’re unable to concentrate on anything once you get back to work, still reeling from the whiplash of emotions you’ve experience since seeing Pero again.  Luckily, despite your boss’ boss’ presence, the entire department seems to have collectively decided to forgo doing any work for the rest of the day, instead chatting happily about the experience at Lin and upcoming weekend plans.  Glad for everyone’s distracted state, you attempt to process your feelings.  Toying mindlessly with the cleaned container that was returned to you today, you open it when you feel the slight weight of something move inside.  Reaching in, you find a piece of paper, folded several times; when unfurled, you realize it’s a letter.

Cookie,

I’m so sorry.  I don’t know what you overheard the day you left me the cookies that came in this container, but I have to apologize for your ears ever being exposed to anything so offensive and vile; I won’t give it any credence by repeating any of it.  

The people responsible no longer work here and have not since the moment William and I were able to express our disgust for their comments.  If for even a second you felt that there was any truth to what was said about you, I am truly sorry – I cannot bear it actually, because, princesa, you mean more to me than you can fathom.

I would do anything for you.  Serve you willingly.  Do anything to see you smile or bring you a moment’s joy.  Cookie, I love you. I didn’t want the first time I said it to be in a letter, but it’s possible this may be my only chance, so here it is. I love you.

I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you; the day you came in looking for Lin felt like first day of the rest of my life.  What did I ever do to deserve you even looking my way?  I’m just a grumpy asshole.  But you’ve lit up my life every day since you entered it.  

I didn’t know life could be so sweet until I met you, my Cookie.  

Te amo, princesa,

Pero

You read it three times.  So he did think what was said about you was horrible.  But then… why did he laugh with them?  At you?  You suppose that if he truly thought you as worthless as those men, he wouldn’t feel one way or another that you overheard.  Oh.  His feelings.  You look over those words in the letter again.  I love you.

I love you.

The words swim in your head and make you dizzy.  If he loved you, why did he never come to see you?  Beg for you to hear his side of the story?  Why did he let you think he was perfectly content for you to walk out of his life?  He loves you?

But you had loved him too, didn’t you?  Before that day, and if you’re honest with yourself, maybe even since.  You had loved how soft he would turn just for you.  Loved his passion, how dedicated he was at a job he clearly loved.  How he took every opportunity to make you feel special.  How he made you laugh.  How he showed you the core of who he was: generous, loyal, kind.  How he praised those exact traits in you. 

The rest of the afternoon is a blur, your mind full of Pero and your chest bubbling over with conflicting and confusing emotions.  At the first opportunity that presents itself, you clock out early, bid farewell to your co-workers, and walk as fast as you can to Pero’s building.  Opening the door with more force than necessary, you march straight up to Pero’s desk; he sits up straighter, surprised at your appearance.  You slap his letter down on his desk in front of him and practically yell, “You love me??!?” and promptly burst into tears, the whirlwind of feelings you’ve been holding in all day finally overwhelming you.

Pero is up on his feet in an instant, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you to his chest, hands stroking your hair and back in what he hopes is a soothing manner.  Slowly, never letting you go, he walks the two of you towards the front doors; once there, he locks each lock, including the ground pins, never letting his touch stray from your body, his gaze from your sad face.  Then tucking you under his shoulder and once again wrapping his arms around you as you continue to cry soft tears, he takes you upstairs.  As the elevator door opens, you hear Leah’s greeting cut short when she sees who it is.  She barely gets two words in, “Pero, what ha-,” before he very definitively orders, “Leah, send everyone home, please.  We’re not opening tonight.  Tell everyone they will be paid and to consider it a night off.”  His tone leaves no room for argument, and Leah leaves swiftly to carry out his orders.

All the wait staff who had been setting up the dining room for dinner service scatter upon you and Pero entering; he guides you to the back of the room and sits on a cushioned bench, gently pulling you down onto his lap.  You remained buried into his neck, letting him calmingly rub your neck, back and legs until your sobs subside.

When you finally lift your head and look at him, eyes still glassy with tears, Pero gently dries your wet cheeks with his thumbs before answering your question, “Yes, Cookie, I love you.”

“But why,” you feel another sob welling up from your chest, “… why did you never try to come see me?  Talk to me?  Why was I so easy to leave?”

“Oh fuck, Cookie,” Pero presses a soft kiss to your forehead as fresh tears cascade down your cheeks, “I’m so sorry.  I should have.  I should have tried every day.  I should have begged on my knees.  I wanted to.  I just didn’t want to scare you or force you to see me if you hated me.  But it killed me.  I regret not trying everyday to get you back.  I’m sorry, baby.”

He tells you about not wanting to make you feel unsafe by showing up when you didn’t expect him, and you have to admit that that was quite thoughtful.  “And it wasn’t easy to be without you, princesa.  I’ve missed you every day.  Your laugh.  And your voice.  And all the sweet and funny things you say that brighten up my day.  Knowing that you were hurt and that I couldn’t do anything, I felt so fucking useless.”

You glace up at him, nervous and pitiful the way you whisper, “You laughed, Pero.”

Pero looks confused until you explain what you heard.  His eyes widen in comprehension, realizing that all this time, it wasn’t just the foul words that you had overheard that had hurt you, but the idea, the certainty, that he had felt the same way as those morons.  His heart drops to his stomach.  He cannot get down on his knees fast enough to beg your forgiveness.  Gently lifting you off his lap, he slides to the ground onto his knees and takes your hands, laying them on your lap clasped in his.

“Pero, you don’t have to…” this is unnecessary, you think.

But to Pero it isn’t unnecessary.  In fact, it’s entirely necessary that he assumes this position of reverence and humility.  His expression solemn but desperate as he explains, trying to walk you through the events that you only partially overheard.  Needing you to understand that the laughter you heard wasn’t conciliatory, but an uncontrolled outburst stemming from his own anger.  As he speaks, you feel as if you were there with him, feeling the rage he felt at you being disrespected and insulted vibrating through his hands.  When he finishes, Pero’s exhausted at having relived those moments; the fury he felt once again fresh in his chest, but this time paired with shame that he ever allowed you to go about your life thinking he had felt anything but love and veneration for you.  He lays his head on your hands, ready to receive whatever harsh judgment you rain down on him.  He deserves it.

When he feels your soft hands move to stroke his face and run gently through his hair, he looks up to see you gazing back at him softly, eyes filled with tears again, “Oh Pero, I’m so sorry.”

Confused, he frowns a little, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Cookie.”

Shaking your head, you have to disagree, “I shouldn’t have doubted you, Pero.  You’ve shown me so many times how genuine and honourable you are, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt and let you explain rather than assuming the worst.  You deserved more from me.”

He can’t have this, you taking any blame for your own hurt; rising to his feet and pulling you up with him, he whispers, “I should have tried every day to explain.  To take better care of your heart.  You deserved more from me.”  Then he kisses you and your heart explodes; every emotion you feel: love, regret, relief, gratefulness, joy, all spill over and your lips desperately try to calligraph what you’re unable to say onto Pero’s.  He kisses you with the hunger and longing of a man far too long parched, one having just stumbled upon the oasis of your forgiveness. 

“How come Leah said we’re clos--,” William’s voice cuts through your dream-like bubble.  Pero looks up at his friend, who reads the situation for what it is immediately.  Your heart softens further upon seeing William, realizing you had misjudged him as well.  William is all smiles, his good nature not easily affected as he claps Pero’s shoulder and demonstrates happiness for his friend’s obvious joy. 

“If Leah can call everyone back, how about we still open, pay everyone double for the confusion, and I call in someone to cover the front door tonight?” offers William, and Pero easily assents with a nod of his head.

“Wait,” you say, pushing back slightly from Pero’s arms so you can look between both men, “…the two of you can just open or close the restaurant whenever you want?”

Pero and William glance at each other as you continue, “…and you make the pay decisions?  Like paying people for not working… or double?”

You look right at Pero, “And you have the authority to fire dishwashers and busboys?”

Pero takes a deep breath, “Cookie, there’s something I have to tell you.”

You’re looking at both him and William with such a high degree of incredulousness, Pero thinks that this is perhaps the first time he’s ever been on the receiving end of a look as stern as the ones he’s used to giving.  William looks sheepish and gives Pero a wide-eyed side glance that clearly says: Can’t help you, brother.  Sighing, Pero bites the bullet, “William and I… we’re not just the host and bouncer of Lin… we’re the owners.”

You take a step back and cross your arms, tilting your head and raising your eyebrows, silent while you take this in.

“The restaurant is named after Lin Mae, William’s wife… and it’s not the only restaurant we own.  We have a restaurant group in the city… and in a few other cities as well,” finishes Pero, afraid to meet your eye.

“Let me get this straight,” you say very deliberately and slowly, “you’re an internationally celebrated restauranteur… and you let me cook for you??!” You punch Pero hard in the arm before covering your face in embarrassment.

Both William and Pero chuckle and Pero rubs his big strong hands up and down your arms, soothingly, “I love your cooking, Cookie.”

Voice still muffled behind your hands, you sigh, “Don’t patronize me.”

“I would never, princesa,” Pero pulls you close and presses loving kisses to your temple, “Truly, I’ve loved everything you ever made me.”

“Your cookies are the best,” chimes in William, “my favourite were the salted caramel.”

You didn’t know Pero had shared your cookie bribes, but the fact that William’s favourite were Pero’s least makes you smile a little.

A new thought strikes you, “Is this why I’ve never been to your place?”

At this, Pero does look ashamed, “Oh Cookie, I’m sorry.  I knew if you saw my place, the jig would be up.”

You wave goodbye to William as you and Pero head to the locker room to grab his belongings before leaving; after Pero’s confessions today, you won’t make the mistake of assuming any ill intent on his part again, but you are curious, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I didn’t intend on keeping it from you, I swear,” says Pero, thoughtfully, “but I can’t say it wasn’t a little bit liberating to have you get to know just me, without all the bells and whistles.  It’s very rare to be seen for who I am, and not what I do or what I have.”

This, you can understand well, and you know Pero knows you do.  You snuggle in closer to him, listening to the steady beating of Pero’s heart for the whole of the elevator ride.  As you exit the building and walk towards his bike, Pero does apologize, “But I should have told you the truth sooner, Cookie.  I’m not sure why I didn’t, except that things were going well and I didn’t want anything to change.”

He looks a little like a wounded puppy, and you decide that the two of you have wasted enough time on regrets so you lace your fingers behind his neck and pull him down for a deep, tender kiss. “You’re forgiven, Pero,” you purr into his mouth, “for everything.”

“Do you want to go to my place now?” Pero smiles against your lips.

Eyes brightening, you nod.  For some reason, going to Pero’s home for the first time feels like the start of a new beginning, and you can’t help but bounce a little in excitement as Pero lowers his helmet over your head.  The feeling of wearing a bike helmet, Pero’s helmet in particular, and getting ready to ride on the back of his bike again, drives home for you the realness of your reconnection.  You sigh in contentment as you anticipate the familiar hum of the motor beneath you.  Pero revels in a similar sentiment, unable to believe the good fortune that when he takes off tonight, it will once again be with the feeling of your arms wrapped snugly around his midsection.

Speeding past your apartment and riding further north, Pero eventually pulls into a garage beneath a luxury high-rise in one of the city’s most exclusive areas.  You chuckle when you realize it’s about a block away from where Dorothy lives.  During the elevator’s long ride up, you jokingly ask if Pero’s ever had any near misses with Dorothy in the neighbourhood, and his laughter while he shakes his head leads you to believe he has.

When the elevator doors open to a private foyer with only one locked doorway, you realize, he lives in the penthouse, the fucker!  Your breath is taken away the moment Pero opens his front door: floor to ceiling windows border the open concept space so you can admire a near 180 degree view of the city just from where you stand.  The room has a simple, modern aesthetic, but you’re not fooled by the minimalist look of the furniture – your keen eye can tell that everything in this room has been thoughtfully selected for its quality, fit and function.  Though understated, the luxurious feel of the décor is evident; everything has its place, fitting together elegantly.  You spy a few personal touches of Pero’s, including a model of a Ducati motorcycle that looks familiar even in its miniature form.  But what truly leaves you awestruck is the kitchen: the cabinets and appliances are primarily stainless steel, giving it a professional industrial look, but the accent surfaces of marble and white lacquer tie in the space with the rest of the apartment’s sleek feel.  It’s huge.  And well loved, you can tell.  You hungrily eye all the cool kitchen gadgets and appliances resting along the counter tops and the large marble island that centers the design.  Your mouth might water a little at the thought of all the delicious food that has been prepared here.

“Hungry, Cookie?” asks Pero, amused as if he can read your mind.

Turning towards him, you see how relaxed and at home he looks among all this understated luxury, and not for the first time, you find yourself stunned by how devastatingly handsome he is.  Throwing yourself at him, your mouth connects with his, open and willing, “Yes, Pero.  I’m hungry.”

After removing each others’ clothing in a frenzy, giggling while tossing garments behind and over furniture, flinging some to the far corners of the room, Pero gently lays you down on his plush carpet, ready to worship you.  He takes his time kissing and licking each line and curve of your body, reacquainting himself with every dip and valley, as if he could ever have truly forgotten their taste.  Each shudder and whimper he pulls from you a small victory for him that your body has missed him too. 

By the time Pero buries his face between your legs, you’re boneless and aching, a sticky mess already painting the inside of your thighs as you cry out for Pero to give you some relief.  Your hands tug and pull at his hair, your words drip with soft pleas, then desperate demands, but nothing with hurry Pero.  He’s on a mission to seek penance from your pussy and nothing will deter him.  Every lick and stroke of his tongue an apology, each flick and circle of your clit an atonement for his wrongs, his two, then three fingers curl inside you pleading for forgiveness.  You grant it with your back arched and your mouth open in a soundless scream, forgetting why you had ever even been apart.

When he finally enters you, it’s slow and sweet, arms bracing your head and fingers stroking your hair as he whispers words of love and praise.

“Missed you so much, Cookie.”

“Feel so good around me, princesa.  Never going to leave this perfect cunt again.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Your eyes never leave his, even when they fill with tears.  He just feels so good.  And you missed him so much.  Now he’s yours again.  He was always yours.  And he loves you.  And you love him, too.  You sing it so he knows.

It’s slow and sweet, until it’s not.  The urgency of Pero’s thrusts is accompanied by the crushing of his lips to yours.  As your tongues dance, your fingers do the same on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the summit.  Every drive of Pero’s hips bottoms him out deep in your cunt, the force of which you absorb with pleasure, crying out for more, more, more.  He gladly delivers - he’ll never deny you anything ever.  So long as you remain his, everything that’s his is yours for the taking, “Take it, princesa.  Take my cock like the good girl you are.”  You do as he commands, taking it all until you come, clenching down so hard on his length that Pero’s own fall isn’t far behind.  Both still panting and lightheaded from your twin highs, you hold each other close with Pero softening inside you, kissing and whispering I love you until you both come back down to Earth. 

---

Padding into Pero’s kitchen wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts, you wrap your arms around Pero’s waist as he lifts the cookies from the baking sheet with a spatula.  Handing you a warm cookie, he watches you in anticipation as you take a bite.  The reversal of your roles from when you first met not lost on him.

The sweet taste on your tongue is heavenly, “10/10.  Ginger molasses, my favourite,” you beam, “This tastes a lot like the one at the restaurant.”

“Of course it does, Cookie,” Pero answers, as if it’s obvious.  He continues to transfer the remaining cookies to the cooling rack, “Who do you think gave the recipe to the kitchen?  I had them start to bake them a while ago.  Just wanted to have something at the restaurant that reminded me of you.”

“That so sweet,” you coo, reaching for a second cookie.

“And maybe subconsciously I thought, bake it and she will come.”

Munching down on the sweet treat, you quip, “You really have Joanna to thank you that.  She’s the one who wanted to come to Lin today.”

“I mean, if we’re going to get technical about it, the person I really have to thank is Dorothy, since she’s the one who wanted to eat at Lin in the first place,” shrugs Pero.

“Should I invite her over?” you giggle, only half joking.

“Why not?  But maybe put some pants on first,” chuckles Pero, as he turns to clean the dirty baking tools in the sink.

Giggling as you head to Pero’s closet to find a pair of sweatpants, you type out a message on your phone: Dorie, you’ll never guess where I am!

2 years later

“… the bride was a vision in custom off the shoulder, full length Vera Wang.  The bridesmaids wore matching vintage Gucci from Tom Ford’s 1996 collection.  Not to be outdone, the groom, elusive restauranteur Pero Tovar, impressed in his custom black and white Zegna tuxedo.  Guests were in for a special surprise and honour; the reception of the joyous nuptials was held in the restaurateur’s newest addition to his culinary empire with the celebrations serving as the restaurant’s private opening.  Per a statement from the groom and his business partner, William Garin’s representatives, the restaurant, which will have its public opening following the happy couple’s honeymoon, is named ‘Mi Galleta’ as a gift to his new wife.”

#pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fic #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #modern!pero tovar #modern au #no y/n

[apatura-ires]

Listen. I am not a Souvieshu fan, but I am a Souvieshu truther, in the sense that I hate how people misinterpret his character. People in this fandom seem to genuinely think Souvieshu is a guy who will chase any pretty woman, or that he’s a creep who specifically wants women who are childish, and easy to control, but like. Neither of these are true? (Souvieshu is still absolutely a creepy weirdo but like. In a different way. I’m sick of fans using the word pedophilic to describe Souvieshu, because it’s not even fucking correct in application to him, even when used as a short hand for when someone likes childish, sheltered and innocent people. Like this is a side note but you people have got to stop throwing that fucking word around.)

Souvieshu doesn’t want just any pretty woman. He specifically has only ever, truthfully and genuinely loved Navier, even if that love has become warped, and that’s a fact. Rashta is his side piece, yes, but it’s clear that Rashta is just some girl that he’s infatuated with, to fulfill his emotional needs, and eventually, for his political ones as well. He was never in love with her. It’s always been obvious that Souvieshu craved Navier’s affection, and that he has been wanting to try and not only make her happy, but rekindle their bond.

Please take note that:

1. Souvieshu knows Navier puts on a mask for people. These two used to be super close, and that likely carried on a bit into their marriage. But eventually, Navier starts putting up walls, and eventually, she starts doing it to him. There could be plenty of reasons for this, but it doesn’t matter, because they both seemed to have mutually drifted apart. Souvieshu is shown actively trying to get past her facade, although, he does so poorly, because he comes at her with a sense of entitlement most of the time.

2. Souvieshu likes Rashta, because Rashta gives him what he craves from Navier; which is to say, Rashta gives him affection, is expressive, has easygoing and light hearted conversations with him, and is able to speak honestly with him. Things that he and Navier used to be able to do with one another. His literal first observation of Rashta, is that she’s easily pleased and excited over small things, which is directly paralleled to a later chapter, where Souvieshu and Navier dine together on her birthday. Souvieshu asks Navier to smile, to which, she complies and gives him a fake one, and Souvieshu then asks her to be sincere about it. Navier makes a comment about needing to be actually happy to do that, so Souvieshu tries to make her happy by giving her a gift. This doesn’t go well with Navier, and like most of their arguments, Souvieshu ends up wishing that Navier could just be more expressive in a sincere, non-petty manner. He is always asking Navier to drop her mask with him. With Rashta, Souvieshu didn’t initially have to dig past a mask to know how she felt. Souvieshu liked her honesty and openness, and while he considered her innocence and childish nature part of her charm, it’s also implied that those traits are traits he could only handle when he was in the mood for it. It’s not actually something he likes, and we see further along the story that her childishness begins to grate on him. Furthermore, there’s a point in the story where he becomes sick, and he mentions that Rashta is not a calming presence, but Navier is.

3. This is the big one (and also me just making observations and assumptions), but both Souvieshu and Navier didn’t know that they loved each other. This is a big one for Souvieshu specifically, because he never assumed that Navier loved him, the way he loved her. I’m sure that’s probably one of the big reasons why he took Rashta in as his consort— and it’s because he sincerely thought Navier wouldn’t care beyond it being a possible image issue, and he genuinely thought that it wouldn’t hurt her. It’s actually Navier who is frequently bringing up that their marriage is one of convenience in her inner monologues— although I don’t doubt that she’s actually brought it up before as well, which probably wouldn’t help his assumptions that Navier wouldn’t be hurt if he brought a consort in.

Do you know why, it’s so upsetting to see Souvieshu mischaracterized? It’s because (outside of how people just slap on whatever term they think is fitting of him) Souvieshu’s side of the story is just as important as Navier’s when it comes to the intensity of the tragedy, that is their lost friendship and love. The gut wrenching heartbreak here, isn’t just from Navier being effectively cheated on, but it’s the fact that they both loved each other, and that all of this heartbreak could have been avoided if they both sincerely talked to each other without any hidden motives. Souvieshu didn’t seem like a bad guy before he took Rashta as his consort. As a matter of fact, I’m fairly certain that if Navier and Souvieshu had patched their relationship, and even confessed to one another, that Souvieshu would have brought Rashta in as a servant—possibly even asking Navier to make her a lady in waiting. Souvieshu wouldn’t have been so emotionally deprived to want Rashta, Navier wouldn’t have had reasons (that she couldn’t get past) to hate Rashta, and Rashta wouldn’t have had a reason to hate Navier.

And to be clear and reiterate, I do not like Souvieshu as a person. He’s a possessive, hypocritical freak, who didn’t take the time to actually get to know Navier again, and was almost always the instigator in their arguments. His love for Navier has warped and changed, and even if it’s ‘genuine’ in the sense that he sincerely loves her, it’s still not healthy. I am not an apologist, I just think he’s an interesting character. His character being misinterpreted, dilutes the tragedy of his relationship with Navier, full stop, and that is what frustrates me.

#the remarried empress #souvieshu #navier trovi #rashta #tw pedophila mention

[loki-us]

Can the same parallel of Thor and Jane be made for Loki and Sylvie the way you are making for Loki and Mobius? I'm genuinely curious. Do you think the show in its writing and direction makes that parallel?

Didn't Sylvie change Loki the way Jane changed Thor? In his own words, made them soft.

(Ask is referencing this post about the parallel between the relationship of Thor/Jane and Loki/Mobius)

I think the way Tom and Owen play Loki and Mobius makes it very clear that the parallel is between them and not Loki and Sylvie. From the very first episode, Mobius is the only one who sees Loki differently, who sees him for who he really is and believes in his capacity for good. Before Loki even meets Sylvie, he spends time with Mobius in episode 2 and learns what it means to have a genuine friend who trusts you and doesn’t expect you to be anything besides yourself. Because everyone in Loki’s life had always based his worth on a throne, on his ability to be a worthy prince and live up to the image of Thor and Odin and then here comes this soft analyst who has seen everything Loki has ever done and says ‘you’re not a villain’ and ‘you could be anything you want to be, even someone good.’

The impact of having that one person believe in him is enough to allow Loki to realize that his worth isn’t tied to a throne and that trusting other people doesn’t have to make him vulnerable. With Sylvie, I think Loki was starting to learn what it meant to love himself, in the sense that he started feeling protectiveness and affection toward her and had no context for that feeling as someone who has always felt only shame and hatred for himself. However, Sylvie never transformed him like Mobius did. Sylvie was so blinded by her trauma and her need for revenge that she was literally incapable of trusting anybody. Loki says this to her in 1x6 and then Sylvie uses his feelings to manipulate him so she can achieve her own goal. Sylvie never truly cared about anyone besides herself, which is shown in season 2 when Loki has to constantly ask her to return to the TVA and only gets her to help once her own timeline is destroyed. Loki never stops trying to save the TVA, and it’s all because he knows Mobius was happy there and he wants his friends to be happy again.

Sylvie on the other hand is actively trying to stop him and they are constantly opposing each other the entire season. Note that after this line, when Loki says he wants his friends back, he is by definition referring to everyone besides Sylvie because they are the only two who know what really happened at this point and Sylvie made it clear she wants to be left in her timeline alone.

Finally, Loki explicitly references Mobius’ impact on him later in the episode, just before Mobius asks if Loki is really his friend. Loki makes it clear here that Mobius’ belief in him was something he had never even considered before, that the power of that belief had changed his entire perspective.

Loki and Sylvie never have anything close to this type of transformative relationship and the way that Mobius changed him directly inpsired his actions throughout the entirety of season 2. Through Mobius, Loki found people he could care about, he realized his self-worth, and he found the strength to sacrifice for others, all things that Sylvie never taught him. If you imagine taking either Mobius or Sylvie out of the equation, it’s clear that Loki’s growth and journey to his own glorious purpose was made possible by his relationship with Mobius and how he was changed by it.

#ask answered #I do appreciate the question! #quite enjoyed writing this analysis here #hopefully something here is thought-provoking/interesting to you! #loki #Mobius #Lokius #mobius m mobius #thoughts-theories #loki-us blog

[mercedesvince]

If your requests are still open, The losers club x male reader who’s popular and doesn’t care if talking to them ruins his reputation.

Losers Club x Popular Male Reader

“Arcade”

[F.N]-Friend’s name

[N.N]- nickname

You doubled over in laughter, putting your hands in your lap, holding up your head. “Oh dude, you gotta be kidding me?” you said looking up, still hunched over. [F.N.] just continued laughing, “No [name] i’m being serious! He really did that! I was standing right next to her!”

You were both laughing at the story [F.N] had said. It involved a guy, who you both new was kind of a douche, asking your friend out. She had obviously rejected him, but if the reason hadn’t been for his reputation, it would’ve definitely been for his very corny and embarrassing pick up line.

“Man, all the good stuff always happens when i’m gone,” you said finally sitting back up, leaning against the bench. [F.N] looked at you, a smiling still adorning their face. “Yeah man, but you were the one who ditched us to go hang out with that losers club”. You looked at your friend, before your smile slightly fell. Rolling your eyes, you responded with “Whatever, they’re super cool once you get to know them, actually, I think you’d get along with Richie”. Your friend just raised an eyebrow, “[Name your like one of my closest friends, but if you keep hanging out with those kids you’re gonna end up being grouped in as a loser,” they sighed. “Yeah, yeah whatever man,” you had not a single care in your tone. You would say that you were pretty popular, nothing you did on purpose though. You just happened to know and get along with a lot people. Probably your charisma, but all that popularity didn’t matter to you. So what if hanging out with the ‘losers club’ ruined your ‘reputation’. You’ll hang out with whoever you want, not because of the benefits they bring, but because you like being around them.

——————————————————————————

You made your way out of the school, waving goodbye to your friend who was staying for an after school club. You were technically also supposed to be at that meeting, but you had promised you would hangout with Stan, Eddie, Richie, and Bill at the arcade. [F.N] said he would cover for you, tell them you weren’t feeling well, but you know he was starting to become annoyed with you.

Whatever, he’s not the one hanging out with your friends, this affects him in no way possible so he has no reason to be upset.

With your backpack slung over your shoulder, you spot your friends near their bikes. Smiling you begin to make your way over, until you see Bowers and his little gang beat you to them. He has that cocky smile on his face, clearly saying something insulting to them. Immediately picking up your pace you decide to interrupt whatever Henry was planning.

“Hey guys, what’s up ?” you ask, pretending to not take into account Henry and his little group first. You look directly at your friends, only then do you take a glance at Henry. “Bowers,” you greet. “[Last Name]” he returns. You see his smirk fall, turning into a glare directed at you.

“[N.N]!” Bill greets. “W-What’s up man?” he says. “Nothing much, you guys ready to head out?” Henry watched the whole interaction, he and his two friends started distancing away from the group. “I’ll talk to you later [last name],” he said, still holding a hostile gaze towards you. “Yeah,”you replied watching him and his little group walk off.

There was a moment of awkward silence, before broken by Richie ”Wow thank god for our Knight in shining armour”. A smirk grew on your face as you playful punched Richie on the arm. “I’m gonna start charging you if you keep making me your bodyguard”.

“Oh [N.N], we invited Bev, Ben and Mike to join us. Mike said he’d meet us there. We’re just waiting on Bev and Ben.” Stan said.

“Alright, Cool”.

Once Beverley and Ben joined you guys outside the school, you all headed towards the arcade. You mainly talked to Eddie on the way there as you guys rode your bikes next to each other.

“It’s just so unsanitary of her, I mean we’re dissecting frogs! Why does she think it’s ok if we just do it without gloves!” You listened to Eddie ramble on and complain about his science teacher and the classes new lab. “Yeah man, I mean usually I tell you you’re overreacting, but that’s actually disgusting and probably a safety hazard,” you said, what a gross teacher. “Well at least you’re lucky [name] you got the only good science teacher”. You laughed at Eddie’s comment continuing to make you way to the arcade with the group.

Once at the arcade, Eddie parted ways with Richie, something about Street Fighter. You had previously tried to beat Richie’s record. Thinking you had a chance as you considered yourself pretty good at the game. But you learned that day that no one compares to Richie.

Although you were all still hanging out together, you mainly stuck with Stan at the beginning, the two of you played a few rounds of [favorite arcade game], before trailing off to his favorite machine. At one point you two went to take a turn on Street Fighter with Eddie and Richie, but you moved on after a few rounds.

Bill was mostly playing air hockey with Beverly. You didn’t bother those two too much, and instead went and joined Mike and Ben at Pop-a-Shot, as Stan had left to go play at the Price is Right machine.

You, Mike and Eddie ended up playing Skee-ball at one point. You got the highest score 4/7 times, with Mike getting 3, and Eddie ending up with none, as he was skeptical about touching the plastic balls, saying that his looked “chewed on”. He ended up rolling one or two at least.

Eventually you made your way over to Ben and Bev, who had ended up sitting facing each other in a booth, talking about music. “Alright but have you listened to ‘Covergirl’? Has to be the best one on the album,” you said. “I have to agree Ben, ‘Please don’t Go Girl’ is good, but ‘Covergirl’ is just better”. “You guys are crazy,” ben said smiling. You were all sitting at a small booth, discussing witch song was the best off ‘Hangin’ Tough’.

“Well well what are you nerds talking about?” Richie said walking up to your guys table, taking the empty seat next to you and Bev. You saw Stan slide in next to Ben, followed by Mike. Bill and Eddie soon made their way over, sitting down as well, the booth ended being able to fit all of you somehow. As your guys day came to an end, you ordered a pizza and some mozzarella sticks, laughing and joking with each other. As you sat with your friends laughing, you couldn’t believe you ever considered staying after school and passing up such a good time.

#it x male reader #it x reader #it 2017 #losers club #losers club x reader #losers club x male reader #x male reader #male reader