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reysdriver · 9 months

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Could I ask for a Steve Harrington x Reader, a story based off best friend by Rex Orange County. Friends to lovers, Steve's pov, toothrotting fluff? I've had this stuck on my mind for a while, but I'm not that great of a writer. I really enjoy your work too.

You hang out with your best friend Steve after a bad date — best friend!steve x fem!reader fluff

warnings: nothing :)

words: 0.7k

a/n: I'm not sure if this is what you want but I tried my best to include little references to the song so I hope you like it!

All night, Steve has been watching the phone in his kitchen. He made sure to sit on the recliner instead of the couch, just in case you called and he needed to answer quickly.

Steve would never admit it to you, but he secretly hoped your date went badly so that you could come over, complain, and spend more time with him. Of course he didn’t want the guy to be really bad, but the sweet spot was just bad enough that you never went on another date with the loser and hopefully you chose to spend that time with your best friend instead.

So when he heard the phone ring in the other room, Steve ran over to answer it as quickly as possible.

“Casa Harrington.” He answered the phone, then held his breath wishing it was you on the other line.

“Hey, Stevie.” You answered much to his relief. “We just finished with dinner, so he offered to drive me home and I was wondering if you’d want to come by in like ten minutes or so?”

“He seems like a gentleman; are you sure you don’t want to keep the date going with him?”

You laughed at your best friend on the other line from the payphone you were calling from. “No, Steve. He’s nice and all, I just don’t think we really click. He’s also waiting for me by his car so I think you should answer me because I don’t want to keep him waiting or else he might drive off without me.”

“I would come pick you up if he left you stranded. I’d drive anywhere you needed.”

“Okay, but I don’t need you to drive anywhere, I need you to answer my original question.”

“Nah.”

Your smile dropped at his response. “No?”

“I’ll pick you up from your house and we can go over to mine. Your place is severely lacking in the snack department.”

That was relieving. You were scared you would have to spend the evening after a boring date all alone.

“Alright, it’s a plan. Bye, Steve.”

“Bye. Tell him to drive safe and get my girl home in one piece!”

The line went dead before you could hear the whole thing, but what you did hear brought a smile back to your face anyway.

The car ride home was awkward and silent, save for the fuzzy radio station your date had on the entire time. The wave you gave him while getting out of his car was maybe even more awkward. Luckily, your knight in shining armour was standing outside of his car parked on the street in front of your yard.

You practically skipped over to Steve and he opened the passenger side door for you.

“So he wasn’t all you dreamed he would be?” He asked you.

With a shake of your head, you got in the car and responded to his rhetorical question. “Nope. I guess I just keep forgetting how boring most guys are. Not you though, of course not.”

“Well, obviously I couldn’t be boring. I have a pool at my house and my parents are never home. We can stay out all night and swim, maybe drink a few beers while you tell me all about how happy you are that I’m here to hang out with you after a bad date.”

“That sounds lovely, Harrington.” You giggled, playing with the dials on his car radio—something he only let you do. “See, this is why every date I’ve been on lately has been so boring and underwhelming.”

“And why’s that?” Steve asked, half-cocky and half-confused.

“Because my favourite boy has brought my standards all the way up. I’ll never be able to find someone as good as you.”

Steve bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying what he really wanted to say. That you should just date, and put an end to his unrequited crush—the one that you felt as well, he just didn’t know that—because he’d treat you right and you both know it.

Instead, he chose for the more subtle choice, and made a promise to really ask you out another time.

“I know you’ll find someone as good as me if you look hard enough.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #best friend!steve harrington #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff #xena's requests

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xotaemintol · 9 months

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SUB!TAEMIN x (FEM) READER: SUBBY SEPTEMBER SHORTS DAY 1

“Teach me, touch me, guide me baby.”

PRONOUNS USED: fem reader implied

TWS: Overstimulation, sub!idol, dom!reader, unprotected sex, impact play, edging, sex toys, thigh riding.

WORD COUNT: 723

Taemin’s hips shutter as bright red lashes cover his bare skin, decorating his thighs, chest, hips, and shoulders along with an array of bite marks, scratches, and bruises. His whole body looked like it had been through hell and back, but he loved it, the way you dug your nails into his skin as you demanded him to answer you, how you bit down on his shoulder as you grinded against his thigh, and how the belt felt against his skin, it all felt heavenly his entire body was sensitive to the touch and he felt like he could burst into flames at the slightest touch.

“Please…” He cried out, your hand never stopping as you stroked his sensitive cock with a slowness that had him thrashing around and panting heavily, “Please! I-I’m…gonna cum plea-“ You snatched your hand away and slapped his thigh, slapping it so hard that it made your hand sting and left a bright red print on his soft skin, the sound of it bouncing off the walls along with his loud whimpers and cries. “Who said you were going to cum?” You asked as you got on top of his other thigh, pressing your cunt right onto the sensitive skin knowing that even the slightest touch would have him jumping and whining. “I-I’m sorry! Please forgive ma’am!” He begged, “Please!” You grinned, grabbing his face as you slowly grind yourself against him. “Oh god!” You could feel his thigh muscles contracting and his body trembling.

“Aren’t you selfish?” You teased, “You act like it’s hurting you if I please myself instead of you,” He whimpered, and although his eyes were covered by a thick black cloth you could tell when he turned his head to you that he was pleading with you, “N-No! No! It feels good! Please, please keep going, please keep using me!” You bite your lip, moaning as you go even slower, “So pathetic,” Taemin whimpered, his eyebrows turned upwards as he pouted, “You don’t even deserve it.” You get off his thigh and he immediately whines, squirming around to show how displeased he is by your sudden disappearance. “B-But, I’ve been such a good boy, I’ve been so obedient and I-Ah!” You stop him by slapping his thigh in the same spot you sat on, but this time with the flogger.

“That’s what I expect out of you, I’m not going to praise you for doing the bare minimum…” You grin while tracing it up his thigh, chills raise on his body and his cock twitches as he quietly moaned. “But, I’ll reward you since you’re such a pretty boy.” Taemin didn’t know what to expect, for a second, he thought that you’d finally let him cum, but your hand never returned, then he thought that maybe you were teasing him again by leaving him blindfolded with no idea as to what he was going to do next, but his thoughts were quickly silenced when he felt you mounting him, whimpering as your thighs rubbed the welts on his hips, “M-Ma’am?” He questioned, but you didn’t answer him, instead, you covered his mouth and grabbed his cock while hovering over it.

“Sh, don’t you want to be rewarded?” You bit your lip as the head of his length bumped your cunt, both of you jolting from the slight touch, “Or do you want to continue to be punished for being a brat?” You asked as you uncovered his mouth, he could tell that although this may have seemed like a rhetorical question, you wanted a response so in a desperate voice he said: “No, please ma’am, I want to be rewarded…b-but I’ll cum if you put it inside.” The waver in his voice made you throb, filled with a desire to see him break even more you ignored his warning. “Then you’ll be cumming until I’m satisfied.” Finally, you sink onto him, your walls throbbing around him as he whined loudly, and whimpered at the feeling of your warmth surrounding him, the feeling of being so deep inside of you made him want to cry, and hearing your soft moans only made it worse. “Ma…Ma’am…ple…oh god…please I-I… ’m gonna c-cum!” Butterflies filled his stomach as you let out a breathy laugh and softly kissed him on the cheek.

“Such a naughty kitty…my perfect s-slut.”

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satorisoup · 2 months

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★ THE AFTER PARTY

⋆ CHAPTER 8 - HELPING HAND

the air outside is crisp today, and the sun is out but the breeze has a slight chill. you find yourself outside of a local cafe, busy with regular patrons in the early hours of the morning. everyone who comes in and out the doors has a purpose, one way or another. a person dressed in scrubs, probably on their way to work a double shift, and needing a shot of espresso to do just that. people dressed in bright orange vests, grouping up with their construction team to indulge in their usual cup of straight black coffee before heading to work. your exact reason for being here?

you had no clue yet.

when kuroo had texted you last night asking you to meet him for coffee, you truly didn’t have any clue what it could entail. was he upset? just trying to be friendly? possibly churring a plan to kidnap you? the options were endless, all questions left unanswered as you grew more wary every second that ticked by.

upon inspection as you enter the cafe doors, you’re able to see that unforgettable hair from its backside. kuroo sits at a small booth, large hands holding a drink as he taps fingers in rhythm against the wooden table. you walk up to him awkwardly, setting your bag down in the seat before scooching your way in. he notices you and fixes his demeanor, back straightening into a presentable posture.

“i almost thought you weren’t coming.” he says, mouth pulling up into a smile as you continue to situate yourself.

“that wouldn’t be very professional of me, would it?” you rhetorically ask, setting down your laptop as you look back at him. “so, um — what did you need to meet for?”

kuroo stares at you before he clears his throat, ready to give you an answer to the questions that have been non-stop taunting you all day.

“well first off, i wanted to apologize.” he starts, looking a tinge guilty for reasons unknown. “i hope you didn’t take what i said the wrong way yesterday, i just didn’t want you to overwork yourself. it wouldn’t of been, yknow, professional to allow that.”

you stare dumbfounded in your seat, undoubtedly surprised not only by the sudden apology, but also at the fact that this was part of the reason he had set up an entire date- work meeting with you. to apologize for something he didn’t even need to say sorry for.

“oh— it’s no worries. i actually wanted to thank you for sending me home. best sleep of my life, if im being honest.” you say, a small smile beginning to rise on your face at the sentiment of his words.

“there’s no reason to thank me, sweetheart, really. hey, you brought your laptop with you, right?” he asks, and you ignore the sudden petname to nod in response.

“great, well the second reason i wanted you here—“ kuroo pauses, arm reaching to the side of his seat that was unoccupied.

his hand rises again, and he suddenly plops a hefty stack of papers onto the table, thick and neatly organized.

“— was because i want to help you.”

you confusedly look to him and the papers, before asking the rather obvious question. “with what?”

kuroo starts to grin, letting out a small breath of air through his nose almost laugh like, “with your songs.”

if you thought you were dumbfounded earlier, now is really the time to be shocked. you feel almost taken aback, the lead singer of a band, who you work for, wants to help you with your tasks? that’s new.

“oh— i mean… you really don’t have to…” you say, still trying to grasp onto reality as his offer sinks in.

“but i want to. and i won’t take no for an answer. your workload is intense, and all i have to do is perform and sing. i could do both.” he argues, trying to convince you to agree.

never in a million years would you of thought a man of such great popularity and power over you would be offering to help you out of pure and genuine concern.

“please.”

that’s where your resolve crumbles, finding yourself ready to agree with the sweet tone he has in his voice that sounds divine. you can tell he means good, and there was no way you could deny help when you certainly could use it.

“ … okay.”

kuroos hands clasp together in a small clap, cheshire smile wide on his face.

“knew you wouldn’t resist. now, are you a tea or coffee kind of gal?”

now you really, really hope this agreement wouldn’t be a complete disaster.

<- PREV ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ->

★ FUN FACTS

⋆ kuroo hates coffee. he was only drinking it because it seemed more “business like”.

⋆ kuroo actually had a third reason for wanting to meet, which was just wanting to get to know you, but he obviously didn’t say that.

⋆ TAGLIST

if your name is in bold, i can not tag you.

@bontensbabygirl @aichiomei @toomanygoldfish @withlovekiki @strwbrryeyes @lifesucksweswallow @snail-squasher @le000xxgrd @1lovestrawberrymilk @sereniteav

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artemfication · 2 years

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“MC goes Buzzfeed Unsolved with the demon brothers while fucking with the entire human realm internet!” Part 3

CW: swearing. Lots of swearing, mentions of death/murder, all the typical stuff related to summoning entities, haunted places, live streaming, not proof read.

Part 2

MC goes ghost hunting in the human realm pt. 3

Even though this entire trip clownshow was planned from start to finish, MC can’t help but feel slightly creeped out. Only slightly! That voice sounded way too serious and it will probably haunt them for a good few days, once they’re back in Devildom. Lucifer really is terrifying when he is taking his role as a demon seriously. Takes them back to all the times he tried to kill them…aah, the memories…

“Which room did you say that ritual took place?” Solomon interrupts their thoughts and teasingly shines his light into their eyes, getting a groan in response.

“First of all, get the fucking light out of my face, I’m already blind as fuck. Second of all, is that a holy watergun?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna use that?”

“Probably not…”

“Then why do you have it.”

“To scare the hoes.”

“You mean the demon of lust?”

“GET THAT THING OUT OF HERE!” A high screech comes through the ghost communicator and both MC and Solomon cover their ears with a pained expression.

“Argh, make it stop!” Solomon whines and MC tries to turn off the communicator as the screeching won’t stop. They desperately try to stop the call and when they finally hit the red button they slump to the ground in relief.

“Holy fuck…”

“You can say that once you get fucked by an angel.” They glare at the sorcerer who, despite having severe temporary hearing damage, still manages to take the piss with them.

“Out of the two of us, you’d be most likely to fuck an angel than I am.”

“Damn….you’re right, I’m just that divine!”

“Okay grandpa, let’s go to the ritual room!” MC jumps up and wanders off ahead of him, leaving Solomon questioning if they just memed him or outright personally attacked him.

“H-hey, how dare you call me grandpa!” He scolds, quickly following to catch up to them and only getting a victorious giggle in return.

When they finally have reached homeroom 4, MC tries to peak through the window, however, the windows are too dirty to even be considered windows so they turn to Solomon who has pointed the camera at them.

“User “skellyfucker” just asked “are you going to lay down in the pentagram if there is one?” Are you?”

“First of all, I don’t think fucking a skeleton is…pleasurable. Second of all, was that a rhetorical question or a genuine one?”

“User “Satanswhore” also wants to know how many demons you’re going to summon.”

“We’ll see how many we can contact. Also tell them to change their name, if anyone is fucking Satan, I am. He is my boyfriend!”

“Have you fucked Satan though…?” Silence falls between them and MC gives him a “be serious” look. Does he want to expose their lives in Devildom?!

“Do you fuck the demon of Lust?”

“No.”

“This is why you’re maidenless.”

“That’s not even an answer!”

“It’s a reality check!”

“Get out.”

A distorted voice says through the ghost communicator and both cry out in surprise.

“We are not leaving, fuck you!” MC screams out of habit, making Solomon lose his composure and laugh.

Sudden smoke starts filling the ritual room and MC swore it feels like they’re back in Levi’s room with the nasty scent it gives off.

“Open the window!” They cough at Solomon who is already moving and they cover their mouth and nose with their hoodie.

“You just angered an entity, I’m going to let you solve the problem too.”

“I might know who is behind this stinking surprise and we call him after an Attack on Titan character.”

“A WHAT NOW?”

“Nevermind boomer.” MC waves him off to continuing to examine the eerie classroom. The blood on the walls and the in red drawn ritual symbols with burned out candles really sketch out the typical horror room and if you would see it, you’d say it was all fake.

Well…the acting is. But the room surely isn’t. Many content creators have visited the site, though they all did an overnight video, the spookiest content they got is something that’s either not caught on camera or it’s such blurry footage, you wouldn’t be able to actually call it anything supernatural.

“Alright, if you’re done with the ratting around, should we start the ritual?”

“You always have that little pocket book of yours right?”

“It’s not just a book! It’s my precious grimoire!”

“Yeah that thing. You know some summoning spells so we can try something to lure out a demon or perhaps the janitor’s ghost!”

“The jani- are you crazy!?”

“Was that even a question? C’mon, sing one of those little spells of yours!” MC flops down in the middle of the summoning symbol and patiently waits, lying down like a starfish and giggling like psychopath.

“Are all of your spells in Latin?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“What if we translated it to English? Would it work too.”

“MC.”

“I’m just saying, what if the demon only speaks English and then he hears your singing and gets confused so-“

“OH MY FUCKING LORD MC WOULD YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I’LL MAKE YOU!”

Solomon signs as he flips through the pages of his grimoire, and clears his throat as he finally found the spell he’s been wanting to try out on their adventures.

He starts to speak as his hand hovers above MC’s head and MC can feel the floor shake a but the longer Solomon goes on with repeating the spell. The burned out candles suddenly lit up one by one clockwise and suddenly turn blue as they continue to light up brighter and brighter. The once stone cold atmosphere in the room has turned into something you could define as a nuclear explosion from the brightness of the flames. The power of Solomon’s magic puts a heavy pressure on the concrete walls and when the magic has reached it’s peak, the light disappears in the blink of an eye, returning the room to it’s former endless darkness.

The two stay quiet for a while, waiting for a sound or for something to happen. One minute…two minutes…

“This is bullshit.“

“MC.”

“That thing is a fucking coward, come out you wussie!”

“MC…”

“A whole ass demon but they don’t even answer to a summoning spell-“

“MC!”

“What?!”

“I’ve been expecting your arrival.”

Tags:

@percypup @reshi-galaxy @shmaider @seerachii-art @brushtailedhusband @darkflowerav @frozengoldie @p-ersus @lostsomewhereinthegarden @zenbutnotreally @crazypriestess @blubearxy @magimagi17 @thesimpiestsimp @cptg00s3 @xdendenx @wecky @liminalimmortal @ineedsomeconfidence @hana-chie

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certfieddilusional · 1 year

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It would kill you to try? Part. 3 Javier Peña x Female reader

pairing: Javier Peña x Female reader

summary: after that unpredictable expedition you were forced to do to save Javier’s ass. You three phase the consequences for that. And he makes you a little visit to apologize.

chapter content/warning: swearing (like always), mention of prostitution, alcohol.

english is not my first language so, sorry if you find any typos. ups!

—

“There’s going to be a little change of plans” stated Messina sitting on her chair.

Javier clenched his jaw and touched his mustache nervously. Both him and Murphy were called to Messina’s office to have a little talk about the previos situation. They didn’t have a clue of how the hell the DEA found out about their little expedition. But anything related to Pablo Escobar was known sooner or later in this country. Also his bruises and the black eye that was starting to heal could’ve gave it away easily. Murphy was as tense as he was. Even though they were used to being scolded, they both knew this one was a tricky one. But he couldn’t stop wondering one thing the entire time, why weren’t you in the room.

“Where’s Gomez?” he asked beforehand.

“Well, Peña, I was about to cover that part but before anything. Could you explain why you decided, like always, take matters into you own hands, risking not only your work partners lives but their work positions” Messina asked rhetorically, crossing her arms and looking at the man with a threatening stare.

The room went silent and Murphy focused his eyes on the floor. Meanwhile, Javier played with his tongue inside of his mouth.

“I was trying to prevent that from happening by doing it myself.” he started in a calm tone “I guess it didn’t go as planned.”

Murphy shifted in his seat, covering his mouth in an attempt to not laugh at his stupid response. He knew that something Peña was not good at were apologies.

“And don’t you think maybe, you could’ve prevent all of that by simply thinking before acting by impulse?” insisted Messina.

“Well sometimes there’s no time to think, boss” he finally answered seriously “I apologize for everything that caused. But I had no other choice.”

Messina looked at him with anger. Real anger. She wasn’t able to understand how irresponsable they both could be, but at the same time, she didn’t trust other people to handle their positions as much as she trusted them.

“Uh, can I say something?” interrupted Murphy holding up his hand “I also want to apologize. He called me, just me. But I was the one who reached for Carrillo and Gomez instead of informing the office. So if you have to blame someone for putting people at risks, that’s gotta be me.”

Unlike Javier, Murphy was actually kinda used to apologizing. He was also terrified of losing this job.

“Don’t worry, Murphy. There are consequences for you too.” informed him the woman standing from her seat “Now, onto the good part. I want you, Murphy, to focus on office work for the rest of the week. I don’t want you taking a step out of this walls to do anything related with Pablo Escobar or the Medellin cartel. If you do, you’ll get instantly fired. Am I making myself clear?” she stated demanding, looking directly at Murphy.

The blonde agreed immediately.

“Yes, m’am.”

“Peña” she directed towards the brunette who was waiting for his sentence “since you are so interested on knowing Gomez’s location, you must know she’s taking a couple of days off.”

Both Murphy and him looked at each other with a mix of confusion and concern.

“She wants to clear her mind about her work situation. She’s also recovering from the stress of the past events.”

This time, Javier was the one to focus his stare on the wooden floor.

“And I want you to do the same. You’re taking a week off.”

“Excuse me?” asked the man outraged.

“I don’t want you near the office or close to anything work related” she quickly explained “If I do, I won’t hesitate to send you back to Texas and I’ll make sure nobody hires you as an agent, at least not when it comes to the territory of The Unitet States.”

Shit was getting real this time.

“With all my respects, Messina, don’t you think you’re going too far with this? Keeping me away from this office, two agents at the same time? Did she asked you to do this?”

It was clear to him now. You were the one who gave her the whole information about that night. He should’ve seen it coming. The way you talked to him. How you left the hospital room, looking at him like the biggest rock in your shoe. But it was also clear to him that even if he knew sooner, he probably wouldn’t have been able to stop you

Messina ignored his accusations completely.

“Look at the bright side, Peña. I think this might be good for you, it would clear your head and it would give you time to heal those wounds properly” she went back to her seat “…and who knows, maybe after this you’ll get what you always wanted. You might ended up working alone.” She finished in a dry tone.

It was true. He had always wanted that. It wasn’t easy for him to trust somebody else with his job, even when it came to Murphy joining him back in the day. He just wasn’t good at co-working, relaying on someone else’s opinion. But the fact that you might’ve requested changing partners, scar him in a different way. Specially cause he was actually getting used to having you and Murphy by his side. It made him remembered your words. I respected you, I thought it was mutual. He grew fond of you in some way, since the very first day he saw you cry with your mom on the phone. He tried really hard to make things easier from you. To keep you save in some way. He failed at that too.

“I also don’t want you calling her.” she advised like she was capable of reading his mind “She specifically asked to not know anything from you till further notice. Take your time to yourself. Am I making myself clear, Peña?”

He agreed with his head.

“Good. You two can leave now.”

Finally outside of the office, Javier pull out a box of cigarettes from the inside of his jacket and lighted one taking a quick puff.

“Well that was nice” commented Murphy in a sigh, rejecting Peña offering him a cigarette.

“How is she?” Javier asked out of nowhere “Have you talked to her?

Murphy instantly knew he was talking about you.

“She’s pissed but, she’ll be okay” he reassured him “She’s not the first person you pissed off” he joked.

“I really didn’t want to” he confessed in almost a whisper.

Murphy patted his back kindly.

“I know, man. But I think you should really listen to Messina for once, okay. Take your time, don’t do anything stupid.”

He looked back at the blonde.

“And don’t try to explain that to her.” he advised the brunette “She won’t listen.”

—

And you sure didn’t have the energy to. Your mom calling you was the only thing keeping you out of your bed and keeping Peña out of your mind. Not for long, because for some reason she kept asking how everything was, if you were actually as okay as you try to play it off. Maybe it was the fact that it was a Tuesday and you were home instead of at the office. The day after that, maybe too intense and uncalled for night, you three try to play it off at the office like nothing had happened. Like Peña’s bruises weren’t an actual thing, despise the perpetual stares of horror from half of his fan club of women and the babbling of the men. Like your inability to focus on anything and your lack of sense was just a result of poor sleep or like Murphy almost finishing two packs of cigarettes was just the common thing. You were surprised nobody asked anything. Nobody let out even a simple joke. And even after all, things just stayed the same. It didn’t matter if any of you actually felt the same. So when your lunch break came and you left the place in search of some freedom from all of that act you were pulling, you found Messina having a coffee in the nearest café you were directing yourself to, and you couldn’t helped it.

“Gomez, are you okay?”

She invited you to seat with her and ordered a glass of fresh water for you. You seemed pale and about to cry. And so you did. You cried and told her everything. Like you cried on your first day with your mom on the phone. You dropped the act. And even at that moment something inside of you hoped deeply, that Javier could forgive you for it.

“¿Y cómo te está yendo con los chicos? ¿son guapos?” (how’s it going with the boys? are they cute?)

“Mom, please” you replied embarrassed, covering your face while washing your cup of tea on the sink.

“I guess it’s better if you don’t tell, you know what your dad thinks about you possibly marrying a cop.” She replied in a jokingly way.

“Well, dad often forgets I am a cop. Y a parte, ¿matrimonio? ustedes me tienen mucha fé” (and besides, marriage? you have so much faith in me).

“Somos de la vieja escuela, mi amor” she laughed through the phone. And you couldn’t help but miss hearing that laugh live.

A knock on the door shocked you completely out of your nostalgic state. And you were quick to put the phone down on the table to grab your gun from the drawer next to your bed.

“Honey?” you heard your mom through the phone while you tried to figure out who could possibly be.

You didn’t have any friends in Colombia yet, and the postman had already pass by this morning. You grabbed the phone again in a attempt to ignore the person behind your door.

“Yeah?”

Another knock. This time with one hand on the gun and the other on the phone, you approached the door slowly. Careful to make the least amount of sound, just to be able to hear something that indicated who the heck was the stranger that kept insisting to make you paranoid.

“¿Pasa algo?” your mom sounded concerned about you lack of response.

“I know you’re in there, Gomez” suddenly Peña’s deep voice ruined the mystery completely.

Hiding your gun inside of you back pocket, you opened the door to a -full on dress in a suit- Peña. With his glasses hanging from the collar of his white shirt and one hand resting on his hip while the other one was on the door frame.

For fucks sake. Didn’t he get the message from Messina?

“Mamá me tengo que ir, te llamo mañana en la mañana ¿sí?” you hanged the phone before your mom could ask any more questions “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“¿Le hablas de mí a tú mamá?” (Do you talk to your mom about me?) he suddenly asked mocking your spanish, a slight grin adorning his face.

“No sabe ni que existes, Peña” (She doesn’t even know you exists).

That caused him to grab his chest with one hand, faking the pain.

“I guess that’s better, moms don’t usually like me.”

“I wonder why” you replied in a dry tone, blocking the entrance.

That gave him time to inspect you better. He was so dressed up compare to you, and to him it was a little shocking seeing you in just some ripped shorts and a t-shirt. Clean face, showing the tiredness of your eyes and the posible left trace of tears in your cheeks from this morning. It made his heart sink a little, you looked so tiny in front of him. But in some way he find it cute. You looked cute as you.

“Look if you’re here to scold me for being a snitch, I don’t care.” you started looking into his eyes while shaking your head “I really don’t care about anything you have to say besid-…”

“Did you asked Messina to change partners?”

The sudden question took you by surprise, did he really just came here to ask you that?

“Umm…”

“Can I come in?” he asked again without even letting you find an answer to his previous questions.

Javier Peña, the man who almost didn’t even think to approach you at the office weeks ago, not only lectured you about your fears, put your life at risks and created your ever first conflict with someone at work, but also was there, at your house. Sitting down in your kitchen, drinking whiskey and lighting up a cigarette. Just talking and actually being concerned about you? If somebody would’ve told you a month ago, this would be your situation, you would’ve laugh at their face. And freak out, probably. You couldn’t deny, he had his ways. It’s not like you shared the same sentiment all those girls he hooked up with and the ones who wished for it, did at work. But you could slightly understand the hype. He had a way with words and after a couple glasses and some smokes, it almost felt like you weren’t mad at him anymore. You talked in Spanish, English, joked about Murphy and those pricks at the office.

“I just simply don’t understand, he’s been what? how many months in Colombia and he doesn’t know shit in Spanish?” you commented between tipsy laughs about Murphy’s situation “I just feel like….” you took a sip from your beer “at this point, it’s just deeply disrespectful.”

You both laughed and Javier watched you as tears f try to scape your eyes. You looked slightly flushed, relaxed. You didn’t really liked whiskey, you preferred beer. And he wondered how someone could still look elegant while drinking beer straight from the bottle.

“And still you prefer him over me.”

He noticed. They way you two talked to each other. Your little jokes. Steve made you feel more comfortable in your shoes than he did. This was the closest he’s ever gotten to share a moment with you without the drama. And alcohol had to be involved.

“Well I’m sorry, you scare me a little.” You replied, taking another sip. Sober Y/n would’ve never said that to his face.

“And why is that?” he asked with a grin.

“I don’t know, it’s all this” you said shaking your hands up and down his figure “It’s your aura.”

“My aura” he repeated mocking your tone.

“It’s like you’re constantly trying to intimidate people” you explained “You just have in you. Some people like it and some others, like me who just don’t have it at all, run from it.”

He kept silence for a while, taking another puff from his cigarette. He looked like someone out of a movie. You really liked his mustache. It suited his face.

“You looked pretty intimidating to me when you decided to enter that building by yourself” he finally stated finishing the cigarette and dropping the ash in the ashtray.

He remembered you. Holding the gun towards him, fierce expression in your eyes. You looked powerful. In other circumstances he would’ve find that kind of sexy.

“I wasn’t by myself, I was with Carrillo” you corrected, stealing a cigarette from his package over the table.

“But still, you lead, didn’t you?” you shrugged “Or at the hospital, you can’t deny that one.”

You felt kind of embarrassed recalling that.

“Shit. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, you’re good at pissing people off, we have that in common.”

You giggled at that.

“And…about the hookers.”

“You really do not have to explain anything to me” you anticipated.

But he insisted.

“It’s true” both of your faces fell a little “I used to frequent those places. But I don’t do that anymore.” He finished his whiskey, almost as a way of gaining energy.

“Well then you should tell the girls, they’re really interested to know, they’ll been asking me a concerning amount of questions about your sentimental status” you joked trying to brush the tension off.

“The girls? Really? Just the girls?”

“Yes” you answered raising up your eyebrows “And most of the time…I don’t know what to tell them, they’re gonna start thinking we’re fucking or something.”

He laughed. He really didn’t care about the girls.

“That’ll be fine for me. I don’t know about you.”

You rolled your eyes and he laughed again.

A brief silence grew between the both. Absorbing the moment, you spoke again.

“I just wanna make sure that you’re a good man, Javier” he was a little taken back about you saying his name, with the perfect tone, perfect pronunciation “Because just a couple days ago, I kinda thought you were.”

For the first time he didn’t look away.

“You always manage to leave me speechless, Gomez” he admitted with a side smile that fade away once he seriously answered “I’d also like you to believe that. But I’m not perfect. I had my ways to deal with that in the past.”

“You don’t have to go back to that.”

It was easy said than done. But he thought, maybe he’ll try.

“Thank you for being there” he said instead “Saving my ass and shit.”

“It’s duty. Just talk to the girls.” you insisted taking his glass and your bottles out of the table.

“I really wouldn’t mind if they think we’re fucking.”

“Okay, you can go now.”

tags: @nightlockcornucopia @jasminedragoon

#javier peña x female reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier peña imagine #javier peña #javier pena fic

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miller-brick · 29 days

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amber stones and amber liquor — and the amber blotches on your skin

Train bound for the Capitol Station, 9 hours since District 2's Reaping Ceremony

The glass was still cool to the touch, but the ice on the surface had almost entirely melted. Condensation beads drenched the outside, forming a ring of water around the base, soaking right through the coaster. Inside, the amber liquid wasn't what it had once been. If one were to bring it to their lips, they would only taste dilution. Saturation.

Miller pressed the glass against the tenderness on the side of his neck instead.

Out the window, the city looked just as diluted. Saturated one moment, completely pitch black the next as the train sped through the last tunnel before finally arriving at the station. Then, once again, bright lights.

Miller set the glass down.

As he rose from his seat, his elbow knocked the drink over, but he didn't realise it. Leaving no immediate stain on black leather, he didn't notice it spilling onto his shoe either. Only the slightest whiff of whiskey stuck, unshakable for a while even as it grew more and more saturated, a reminder of a wasted drink, of some wasted change.

Brick Estate, 2 hours since District 2’s Reaping Ceremony

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The question had simmered unspoken for almost an hour. Now, with Smith and Mason already on their way to the Capitol, it finally clawed its way out.

In response, Clayton regarded his eldest son with a pointed look. "What difference would it have made?"

A world of difference, Miller wanted to say. All the difference, he wished he could say. But, in truth, what difference would it have made?

"Hasn't he been training for this? Haven't all of you?" More rhetorical questions in place of an answer. Clayton knew he'd already finished this foolish argument before it even started.

"Why didn't you fucking tell him?" Miller kept demanding, tone rising.

Clayton remained impassive save for the slightest quirk of a brow. A warning. "I didn't?" Feigned confusion expressed solely to mock. "All these years, you're saying I never once did?"

Rage--red and pure and raw--flared unchecked, diluting every other emotion. But even as it burnt bright, Miller knew that there was no winning this, knew that there was no satisfying end waiting for him on the other side of this fight. Nevertheless, his fists clenched at his sides. All instinct. All fury.

"You missed your chance," Clayton continued, filling the pause. The look he gave his son now was one of condescending pity. "Honestly, what did you expect?"

From there, it was a blur--at least at first. Miller felt his arm move, but his mind quickly caught up. For the best? Or the opposite? Whatever the case, whichever the perspective, he hesitated. Right as his hand was about to make contact, shoving at his father’s shoulder, he hesitated. By the time it did make contact, there was no real conviction left anymore.

There was only fear; infantile, blood-curdling fear that took him back to his childhood. He had never hit his father before, never once hit back as a boy. Hell, he had hardly ever talked back.

Clayton let out a huff of surprise. It seemed that neither of them had expected that.

Where one's fury had now been diluted with dread and regret, another's had just crested, as red and as pure and as raw if not more. The difference was that Clayton did not hesitate. It wasn't in his nature to. The back of his hand struck his son's cheek, the stones on his rings leaving angry marks. Not a second later, his fist curled around his son's neck, pushing it against the wall.

"Just who do you think you are?"

Miller did not answer. He couldn't even if he had the breath to.

It had been years since he'd last felt pain like this, but now it felt like it had never left him. Suddenly, he was ten and thirteen and eighteen again, all at once, the past diluting with the present.

"You’re still my son. You all are. Don’t forget that."

There was no satisfactory end. Not for the son. Never, ever for the sons.

Miller left the house, cheek and neck ringed with bruises, beads of sweat wetting his back. Not that this mattered. His skin would cool, his flesh would heal. What would remain for a long time to come was the saturated fear and anger, a reminder of irredeemable failure, of years of wasted battles.

#self para;#games: 25 #tottask #tw: violence #tw: abuse

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eighteenoheight · 2 months

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The vague stories of Mia Winters

Thought I’d go for a punchy title for this here tirade. Because much like any conversations Ethan tried to have with her, Mia as a character is all half-answered questions.

I’ve seen a lot of fans of the Resident Evil series really dislike Mia. For being a bio-terrorist, what her lies and deceit did to Ethan, never giving a straight answer. There’s so much drama surrounding her but we still haven’t gotten much of an explanation. Shadows of Rose concluded the Winters’ story for now, yet as is now common for Mia, I have a lot of questions. I haven’t been given enough information or backstory to know exactly or even partially what Mia’s deal is. Where does she fall on the morality scale?

The Connections are a gross organisation that, despite being a huge player in the last two games, has been flying under the radar this entire time. As someone working for these bitches, Mia would have absolutely spilled the beans on every last detail to the BSAA, otherwise there’s no way she would have gone unpunished to live in “safety” with Ethan. She clearly knew way more than we do at this point in the series for whatever reasons. Maybe we will find this out at some point, but as it stands now where is the truth?

Another part of why it’s hard to get a read on Mia’s character is we still don’t know what her motivations were, or her level of involvement in The Connections and the creation of Eveline. Did she know Evie’s true purpose? It’s a slightly rhetorical question because she most likely did but Mia girl, you’ve had enough time to tell us what’s going on. Stop keeping secrets ffs. And as for the BSAA keeping quiet about her involvement, she must have given a LOT of details in order for them to not only give her a free pass for bio-terrorism, but also keep Ethan in the dark about how much she truly knew about what was going on. She was a risk to his life, and ultimately paid that price in the end. And because they never let him know, his blood is on their hands. And I want to know for sure, did the BSAA relocate the Winters’ because the connections were after them because they got infected and experienced all that, or because Mia worked for them and needed to be dealt with? Will we ever know the truth? And if my theory is correct that the BSAA were using them as bait for The Connections, would this be revealed in the next game and how would Mia react to this after it cost Ethan his life? Sure she has her responsibility in what happened but, again, the BSAA played a huge role.

Despite the Winters’ story allegedly being over, I can’t see how this era of the story is going to continue without Mia. She has to be around in some form, likely through files or recordings. She’s the only link to the illusive company that we know of so there has to be more to her story than what we’ve been given. Because fans are still stuck on whether she’s a villain, a hero, an anti-hero, whatever she is, answers need to be given, otherwise we’ll be stuck wondering forever.

Also big shoutout to Katie O’Hagan because her voice acting was phenomenal and I don’t think she gets enough credit because Mia’s character is so confuddling.

Did I repeat myself in numerous places because I put this dissertation away a few times and add bits when they popped into my head? Probably most likely. We’ll just say I’m trying to heavily emphasise what I’m talking about even though we both know it’s because I don’t read what I write out and forget. I like doing these kind of word vomming essays on an interest because while writing this out I had another big thought. Very excited.

#resident evil #Mia winters #should refresh my knowledge on the whole situation because I forget #get it together mia I need answers #please just tell us what’s going on

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jojo-hut-jrs · 2 years

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*immediately flops in* 49 for Rubber Soul

Alright trial run let’s try this on for size

Rubber Soul X Reader:

49. “Are you okay?"

Somewhere, beneath the faded gold of the ever darkening horizon, you think there might lay a purpose you haven’t seen yet. A reason you can justify this existence to, an excuse you can cling on to when you have nothing left to rely on.

It’s damming to think about, even more so to accept, but since uncovering truths too absurd to rationalize it is the only thing that prevents you from breaking completely. That somewhere there are answers that are going to piece everything together into a single coherent picture, and with that you will finally know peace amidst this world of confusing abilities and even more confusing people.

The other crusaders each took their own approach when things got quiet, and so you had taken the chance to slip away for the time being. Singapore is lovely enough, and the city provides a nice backdrop for your thoughts to get lost in, a moment to displace yourself with.

Your drifts in a fuzzy haze of emotion and thought so complex and numbing that you don’t even notice that someone has joined in your brooding.

Or that they look exactly like you.

“Are you ok?” Your own voice is foreign and unrecognizable, an unnoticed suspicion in the amused, rhetoric tone that hardly rouses your attention until the question is repeated in volume.

You hardly raise your head in acknowledgment, not even bothering to turn around and address the stranger that you could hear slowly approaching you.

“I’m fine,” you answer back, your tone level but barren, like dry earth. “I’m just thinking for a little bit.”

“Oh?” Your voice sounds curious, and very close, “You’re just sitting here thinking? All by yourself?”

There’s a smile in their tone you can almost feel on your skin, but the numbness hasn’t dissipated, and the sunset still captivates you entirely. Blazon reds slowly deepen into blue, and the warmth of the body behind you is an accoutrement to your already complicated flurry of emotion.

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter in the long run,” you reply on reflex faster than you realize, “but at least this is more peaceful than anything I’ve been through in the past few days.”

The voice hums in curiosity, bending close to your ear so that their breath trails along the nape of your neck.

You hum back without explain further, listening to the steady breath of the stranger behind you as you attempt to lull back to a faded haze.

A prickling of impatience spikes the tone, and the body behind you shifts as it bends forward to just barely within your peripheral.

“Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous to be out here by yourself? You don’t know who you might stumble across if you’re not careful.”

The voice is taunting you, goading you into an expected response, if only you would turn your head so you could se your own eager face staring back at you, you own teeth bared and smiling on a way they never had before.

But you don’t. You only shrug so that your shoulders brush up against the body next to you.

An irritated whine resonates next to you, the body practically enveloping you as it keeps looking for the response that it wants.

“Can I ask you something?” You offer a question of your own. The person with you seems almost affronted by the suggestion, but your question spills out before they can object.

“What do you think it takes to be happy?”

You can sense the person pull back a little in confusion, the slight nod to their head barely a blur out of the corner of your eye.

“That’s kind of a stupid question, isn’t it?” They offer. “Why do you think I would bother answering this shit?”

“Just because you’re a stranger doesn’t mean I don’t value your opinion. I’d like to know your perspective, even if i don’t know you.”

There’s a beat where you can almost hear the expression on their face, a mix of confusion and irritation, a silent debate on whether to humor you for the sake of finding out where this will lead.

“Everyone wants the same shit, even when they don’t admit it.” The voice finally responds to you. “Money, for one. Power, adornment , stuff they can have. People can say they want peace and love all they want but what they really want is the stuff that comes with it, the stuff you can have for yourself.”

“I suppose, there’s a truth to that.” You reply to them. “Do you have all of that?”

Their grin is an audible crease of wet skin across slick teeth.

“More than you can even imagine.”

You smile despite the implications.

“I feel very lucky to meet you then.”

“Yeah, you damn well should be.” There’s genuine amusement in their words, a pride that radiates stronger the heat still close to your back.

“So you’re happy then?”

The voice hums close to your face.

“I think I’d be even happier if you turned to look at me.”

You turn your head, but not before closing your eyes, your smile genuine and soft, amusing and tender in its open playfulness. You can almost picture the look of frustration on their face, and the thought brings a light bout of laughter as the body shifts away from you.

“Do you think I’m a joke?!” Your own voice rises to a stern slap of a tone, not quiet shouting, but no longer the pleasant hush it had been teasing you with.

“No,” you respond, “I think this is the happiest I’ve been in quite some time.”

The person clicks their tongue, sounding a little farther away.

“I’m sure you’ll feel different soon enough.”

A moment passes before you open your eyes and find yourself alone as the sky darkens into black.

#jjba rubber soul #rubber soul x reader #reader insert #jojo's bizarre adventure stardust crusaders #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #agents of dio #shittys jojo writing #I’m sorry this is probably not at all what you alwere asking for but I got. carried away #I actually wanted to be a horror novelist and I think it shows #I can…rewrite this of you want. you can resubmit it and I’ll do something else

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witchlockmonsterfox · 1 year

Text

that post reminded me how i was thinking last night, when i first joined tumblr, i had a lot of young people wanting to know about my experiences as a trans man

the fact i was not on T did not matter — i remember still fielding questions up until about 23, after having been trans since i was 18 years old, the concept being introduced to me at 14 by a teenage girl who was trans.

even at the time, “just google it” was a weirdly common answer. a big part of my blog was stating i was open to answering questions about being lgbt, being bi, being trans, being disabled, being mentally ill, a drug addict, and when people noticed i had formal education as well as a lot of lived experience and lived experience in a VERY oppressive place (the southern united states), is what eventually led to my reputation as an educator, and some kind of generalized activist.

i was never an activist for anyone or anything except drugs and the disabled. i did some LGBT activism work, but all my activism offline had focused on drugs, the treatment of the mentally ill, rights for the disabled, etc.

i figured out years later many people i was dealing with were not adults. they were kids. they were teenagers. ive had people confess to me they have been following me since they were 13. i’ve had people confess they lied about their age to me. none of this was an issue or anything in what i talked about or how, as i always kept teenagers in mind, but i had believed i was speaking to adults.

this post spiraled widely off topic about my start here on tumblr (back in 2010), after migrating from livejournal. we existed in communities there, where longer commenting was more acceptable and read, where people would stop and recommend basic books for people looking for an “intro” point. the rule “lurk more” was a big thing. it is very, very good advice despite how much i hated that phrase and still do.

my stopping point here was about 23 and there’s a reason for that. the reason? i became pregnant. i did not intend to become pregnant. instantly the assumption became i must be being “forced” or “pressured” into not getting an abortion — what trans men would get pregnant?

in around the year 2009, there was an entire exploitative documentary and case made about a trans man, on T, as heteronormative as could be, who had stopped testosterone to get pregnant. i remembered the backlash against him and the responses from trans communities. that there were many reasons for trans men to get pregnant. many get pregnant before they even transition, or realize they are trans! it was well known rhetoric that a trans man getting pregnant didn’t make him less of a man or less trans.

i’m not entirely blaming this on like, the internet or anything — but it was about this time, now 2013, my own community began to increasingly isolate me. i noticed more and more attitudes cropping up — some directed at me — that trans men would never get pregnant. “what kind of heteronormative bullshit is this”. now everyone getting HRT started dictating the conversation, and people like me must “not really be trans” or else we would fight harder to get testosterone. i have seen such an attitude increase and increase and increase.

and i don’t want to be mean — but trans healthcare is not that stable. informed consent is not allowed in the majority of the US. my state was the first to ban trans healthcare for *children. most states are still heavily gatekept. what i’m saying is that maybe, just maybe, as this one post said “open your hearts and minds to us” because that might be you, and i have a feeling it won’t be long before the voices like mine start speaking up again — “we’re here, you left us when we helped you, and now you’re directing that same transphobia back at us.”

#joel talks

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my-makeshift-masquerade · 2 years

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whats ur prob with clara?

I really don’t have the energy to answer this in depth, but if I must… It’s gonna be a long one. I think the fandom likes to think Mrs.Afton was a perfect mother to her children because the Afton children got a real shitty hand in life and they deserved good parents. That is totally valid. However, in terms of evidence, Mrs.Afton is characterized mostly by her absence from the story.

Either she died, or she is just not involved in the protection of her family at all. Nobody mentions her even being dead, which would be really traumatizing to her children. Micheal never says something like: “Mother may be gone, but I know you’re still here, father…” Elizabeth never says anything either, and while begging for permission, you’d think “Mommy would let me!” would’ve been a retort she’d make. This would’ve been an extremely easy way to fix this.

The few implications we get of what she is like from The Immortal and the Restless don’t paint a very good picture. It was quite toxic, with every episode having Clara focusing on getting Vlad to admit his responsibilities over their child…while the baby is clearly having a lot of difficulties and she is only escalating tensions. Now, before you accuse me of blaming the battered wife because we know William went on to murder children, hear me out.

Disclaimer: I am aware this is a cartoon, but when it’s the only real depiction we have that could be close to how Mrs. Afton would behave, we can’t exactly tell what details are irrelevant.

It is so comically obvious that the child is Vlad’s, just like how Micheal bears such a resemblance to his father he got mistaken for William in sister location.

Clara’s focus on getting Vlad “involved in his child’s life” isn’t for only her child’s sake. She says it is, but her real anger comes out when she mentions paying child support.

Clara set both her and Vlad’s houses on fire in response to not getting what she wanted. She even criticizes his house’s decor after she burned it down.

Clara also keeps only claiming valuable items in the hypothetical divorce settlement. Then her entire character shifts when she heard Vlad bought one kid’s meal.

If that is what Mrs.Afton’s behavior towards William and Micheal is identified as being like in this clear analogy of the characters, she wasn’t exactly a saint. If anything, William desperately not wanting to be involved and his wife being desperate to get him to pay her child support makes me think Micheal was a result of a teen pregnancy. Neither of his parents were really mature enough to focus on the child’s needs over their own relational conflict.

What really stuck out to me was Mrs. Afton’s depiction in Clara is painted as the one we are supposed to be rooting for, because we already know what William’s sins are. Yet, her behavior is more psychopathic and inconsiderate of the child present than Vlad’s blatant neglect of responsibility. She commits arson not once, but twice! That’s not just getting emotional and lashing out. That’s a crime that endangers everyone and leaves the child homeless!

Considering these factors, she is portrayed as self absorbed, hiding behind “won’t somebody please think of the children” to try and get resources or reconcile some dispute with her husband. Apply that rhetoric to the rest of her kids. It explains why they had three of them, and why she didn’t come around to protect them when they literally got killed off by their father. It was never truly about the children in her mind. The kids were just pawns in her attempt to make William stick around, but she eventually must’ve died or walked out on the family in order to not be mentioned at all.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!

#fnaf clara afton #fnaf mrs afton #mrs afton #fnaf headcanons #fnaf theory

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lemonthepotato · 2 years

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Considering I just saw a transphobic post by two rather familiar conservative blonde women who are infamous on the internet (if you know, you know). I really have to laugh at the rhetoric transphobes use. If you dye your hair brown and you’re naturally blonde, you have brown hair. Gender is determined by your brains response to your sex, though that’s just one of many ways dysphoria can manifest. A trans woman is a woman because she doesn’t identify as a man anymore. What is a woman? What is a man? The anti-trans people cry, yet they can’t seem to answer that question either. Is it chromosomes? If so, what about intersex people? For a crowd who claims that intersex people aren’t inherently a third sex (which is usually true; I won’t speak/try to dictate how intersex people define themselves) y’all sure like to place them in a third category when it comes to the chromosome game. Is it one’s ability to reproduce? Because not all women can reproduce. Is it gametes? What if someone had their gonads removed for medical reasons? More importantly, why does this matter? Women/men aren’t perceived as women/men because of their chromosomes; you can’t see chromosomes. Testosterone and estrogen usually shape who is viewed as a man and who is viewed as a woman/man; though it’s possible for there to be an imbalance. I’m not a doctor; I am willing to admit fault in regards to this — or anything mentioned here for that matter. But I still think that saying someone is viewed as a man/woman due to their chromosomes is uh… not a very good argument. Though, I don’t really think the “sex = gender” crowd make this argument often I have seen it going around (the whole “If I see a woman I’m calling her a woman” shit). Another reason why gender is highly complicated. At least when it comes to a certain… crowd of people… their transphobia is rooted in misguided activism. But people who are transphobic just for the sake of their idea of “biology” (which ironically ignores biology) make 0 sense. I’m not saying you should blindly accept the quote enquote “trans movement” I’m saying that the entire debate about the validity of trans people is based around semantics & trying to force rigid definitions of gender on to people when sex and gender are often made in distinction for a reason. They describe two different experiences. You can say gender and sex are the same thing but that doesn’t change the fact that the experiences of transgender people are real experiences. If you want people to make up a new word to describe their experience with gender identity, fine. Whatever this helps accomplish, fine. But in my opinion the conservative “sex = gender” movement is just irritating because there is no point in it. I truly believe it isn’t about biology to them, it’s about controlling the bodies of trans people.

#trans #trans rights #transgender #nonbinary #agender #bigender

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pensivegladiola · 3 days

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Confinement

This is a short story/flash fiction submitted for a Penana competition ‘Tropes Reversed.’ My reversed tropes were ‘friends to strangers’ and ‘needing space.’

I’ll add the challenge link at the bottom if you want to give it a go with your own writing! It has a full list of tropes.

———

Brodie had to give it to the government official. This punishment was certainly a unique one, although he wasn’t sure that it was packing the punch they intended.

He and Nathaniel had built that bomb together, yes, and they had hidden it in the undercarriage of the governor’s car, and they had detonated it from afar. But the target was intended to be the governor himself, not the man’s twelve year old daughter. A small change of plans, a school cancellation due to weather, and a little girl with fatal shrapnel injuries had derailed all of their plans. They had been so sure that the public would welcome them as heroes after killing the man who had revoked so many civic rights after taking power. But even in the face of so many disappeared journalists, students, and intellectuals, the murder of a child did not win them public favor.

Brodie had expected execution by firing squad. But it turned out that the governor had been reading Satre when his daughter died and here they were.

Hell is other people.

Now he and Nathaniel were housed in a single room together. No amenities except a lamp, the most basic of facilities, and the occasional food delivery. No company except one another. No books, no beds, no sunlight. No distractions. They had taken the man’s beloved child from his life forever and in return, he had doomed them to a lifetime of never escaping one another.

Frankly, Brodie believed that the man had made a mistake. He and Nathaniel were like brothers. They had met in the revolutionary fervor of an underground student organization and connected right away. Their minds were of one and with time, their plans had grown far beyond the scope of the secret pamphlets and newspapers and protests on which the other students dedicated their time. No, they would make real change.

It hadn’t gone so well. But if Brodie was to be stuck with anyone, it should be Nathaniel, with whom this entire journey had begun. They had done nothing wrong and they could both rest with that knowledge.

Nathaniel had made a horrifying mistake. Caught up in all the rhetoric and enthusiasm, he had taken the life of a child. How was he any better than the soldiers who beat people in the streets? What had he become?

At the beginning of this crusade, he had been so sure of himself. Of course, they were on the right path. Of course, blood should be spilt in return for blood. But now, with nothing but the room and Brodie to remind him of his errors, this no longer rang true. Even if that little girl had not been the one in the car, Nathaniel would still have been responsible for the death of a human being. Even if that man were abominable, he was still a person. Nathaniel had lost sight of that. How many days had he agonized over the disappearance of his older sister? Wondered how the soldiers who had reportedly dragged her away in the night had failed to look her humanity in the face? And now, he had become what he so despised.

But what he despised more was Brodie.

“Why are you weeping, huh? I hope it’s for yourself and not that girl. She would have only grown up to be like her father. We did the country a favor even if we missed our original target. Maybe it will inspire others to action.”

“She was a child, Brodie! Don’t you recognize what we’ve done?”

“I know exactly what we’ve done and I defend it.”

Every waking moment, Nathaniel was forced to stare his sins in the face. And that face belonged to Brodie. Hatred grew like a creeping vine.

Brodie paced the room while Nathaniel stared at the wall in silence. After hours of arguing until their voices had gone hoarse, Nathaniel had stopped answering Brodie’s provocations.

How could Nathaniel betray him like this? Brodie had thought that they were ideological equals. Brothers. And now, Nathaniel thought him a murderer? Blamed him for everything that went wrong as though the other man had no agency of his own. Pathetic.

Brodie strode up to the lamp and turned it off, yanking hard on the cord. It swayed from the force, making a ringing sound against the floor. They were immersed in darkness.

“Turn the light on!” Nathaniel shouted.

“Why should I? I don’t want to see you, moping in that corner!”

Nathaniel stood up and returned the light to the room. They stared at each other. Nathaniel’s eyes were bloodshot.

“Of all the people to be stuck with! I would rather have faced the firing squad!” Nathaniel shrieked, face turning puce with rage, “Every time I look at you, it makes me want to claw my eyes out!”

Brodie laughed bitterly.

“Well, you haven’t a knife to do it with! You ensured that by failing to follow the car’s driver like I told you to!”

“I was only a pawn to you, wasn’t I? Just an impressionable little lackey!”

Brodie had never so desperately wished for solitude. Nathaniel returned to the white wall on his half of the room and began to scratch at the surface. The count of days on the wall continued to increase.

After three weeks of spats, the occasional fist fight, and an aching, desperation-inducing need to rid themselves of the other, an unusual food delivery arrived. Nathaniel glanced back at Brodie who was eating as usual. He discreetly opened the note that had been hidden in his tray.

‘Dear comrade,

During the trial, I could see that you felt genuine remorse for what happened to my little girl. As such, I would like to offer you a pardon. If you remain the only man living in the room, I will open the door and return your freedom.

Signed,

This mourning father and dedicated governor’

Nathaniel slipped the note into his mouth and ate it. Was it really possible? Escape from this place? From Brodie? But what if he wasn’t the only one who had received the note? If that was the case, time was ticking. His self-serving former friend would surely act sooner rather than later.

Could he really kill Brodie? He had spent weeks agonizing over his choices, convinced that taking any life was wrong. But it was Brodie who had led him to that choice in the first place. Maybe this act would finally balance the scales.

Brodie was positive that Nathaniel had received a similar note in his meal. The man was acting too suspicious to believe otherwise.

‘Dear comrade,

Due to occupancy limits, we will be downsizing to solitary cells. Since we cannot fit both of you, please decide as you see fit who should receive such a cell. The other will be sent as a dissection specimen to the nearby medical school in service to the country’s students as a gesture of my benevolence.

Signed,

This mourning father and dedicated governor’

Could he really kill Nathaniel? They had been like brothers once. But now his presence made Brodie’s skin crawl. He wanted nothing more than that solitary cell to himself. Nathaniel wanted atonement, yes? Maybe death was the answer that Brodie could provide.

The governor had lied. No one ever came to retrieve Nathaniel. Nor had they come to retrieve Brodie’s body. Now he was finally alone. And he would never be free of Brodie, stuck in the same room, forever...

———

‘Tropes Reversed Challenge’

#short story #writeblr #writing #flash fiction #suspense #dystopia #horror #friends to strangers #friends to enemies #I knocked this one out in half an hour #Penana #writing prompts #writing competition #short fiction #fiction #writing challenge #reversed tropes #tropes

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todoscript · 3 years

Text

making out until your phone interrupts you two

characters: bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff, suggestive

word count: 2.8k+, 850-1000 words per character

warnings: characters are aged up, suggestive and mature content, implied sexual content, minors please beware

author’s note: how did these get as long as they did

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

As your soft hands brush along the nape of his neck and pinch at strands of ash blond hair, you feel his larger, calloused hands run along your thighs. Your lips come back for each other, hot and needy. Bakugou bites down harshly on your bottom lip, eliciting a squeal that grants him an opening to pry his tongue into your mouth to melt with yours. You follow in the frantic rhythm he sets, barely keeping pace as your grip on the slim fabric of his black tank top wrinkles in your curled fingers. Smirking, his hand runs up the skin beneath your shirt. He finds your squirming all the more amusing the more he rubs and gropes.

“Aw c’mon, babe. No fun if you’re already turning into pudding this fuckin’ early. Show some resistance, why don’t ya?” He eggs you on, but doesn’t cease in his ministrations, and in fact, only makes it harder for you to show any kind of fight. You detach your lips from his, pouting profusely with a scrunched nose. He looks back at you, expression sly and slick, well aware of what he’s doing. Well, you’re going to be sure he doesn’t get the last laugh.

Shifting all your weight onto his upper body, you move him over to lay down on the couch. He peers at your form towering above him, curious as to how you go about turning the tables against him tonight. His palms are flat on your thighs, remaining there as you settle your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. You move your head down so your lips can touch and Bakugou cranes his neck slightly to meet you in the middle. However, a clamor sounding from a phone on the coffee table sends a rift in the atmosphere you’ve established and the incessant chime captures both of your attention. Your eyes go wide before blinking in realization that it’s your phone that’s going off right now.

Much to Bakugou’s dismay, you begin moving off of him. You get up to reach for your ringing phone, but his hand grabbing your wrist is faster.

“Don’t you dare answer it,” Bakugou orders, failing to suppress the blunt annoyance in his tone.

“What if it’s an important call from work?”

Hearing your response, he begrudgingly lets go of your wrist, sitting back on the couch, and grumbling beneath his breath.

“Fuck, it better not take long then.”

You playfully roll your eyes at him. You take a glance at the screen before pressing the green icon and nestle your phone next to your ear.

As you converse with the person on the other line, the blond is glaring knives at the device, no doubt mentally sending curses to whichever asshole decided to interrupt the mood just when things were starting to get good. Now he’s contemplating as to why he was generous enough to let you answer the damn phone in the first place. Shoulda just chucked that thing into the next room, left to be forgotten as the two of you would’ve been occupied with much more important matters.

In retaliation with his thoughts, he abruptly pulls your body into his lap, legs on either side of his thighs, straddling him. Being so occupied with your phone call, you don’t have much opportunity to comment on his behavior. In fact, Bakugou actually doesn’t allow you any opportunity.

Without warning, he plants his mouth on your neck, proceeding to nibble and suckle with just the right amount of pressure that makes you jolt in his lap. A small squeak leaves you, the noise eluded by the other person on the line thanks to you shifting your phone away from your mouth in time. You glare at the blond, silently asking with pointed brows what the hell he thought he was doing. But Bakugou only finds amusement in your struggles.

“Go on, keep talking, princess,” he mumbles loud enough for only you to hear and you feel his lips curl against your skin. You notice his hands busying themselves, tugging at the hem of your shirt, but despite that, you can’t do anything but continue with your conversation, unless you want your caller to start suspecting you’re undergoing other… activities as you were speaking to them.

You are so gonna get it later, mister. You mentally note your promises of retribution before returning to the chat while trying to ignore Bakugou’s mischief to the best of your ability.

After powering through the next couple of minutes of exchanges—your replies hastening and voice hitching whenever Bakugou’s ministrations became impatiently persistent—you finally say your hurried goodbyes, hitting the end call button.

That acts as Bakugou’s cue to pounce on you. He swipes your phone right from your fingertips and tosses it half-hazardously on the couch, out of your reach.

“Katsuki, you—!”

The moment you open your mouth to say something in retort, your words are cut off. Bakugou’s lips slot with yours to resume your intimate lip-lock, even more intense than earlier by how he barely allows you to draw a single breath.

“Oh no you don’t. No fucker is going to interrupt us this time, I’m going to make sure of that,” is the last he says before hoisting you up from your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist, and leading you both to your bedroom.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Entering your living room, Midoriya finds you lounging on the couch with the TV on, curled up with a blanket and watching the latest episode of a show you’ve been following. He stretches out his muscles as he approaches you, body aching at every extension of his limbs. With his groans sounding rather exasperated, you face in his direction.

“Tired?” you question as Midoriya takes a seat beside you.

“Yeah, just a bit. The villains keep getting tougher these days,” he answers, cracking his knuckles, craning his neck to relieve a particular spot that’s been bothering him. You open up the blanket to let him take refuge in your warm haven and he scoots closer to you.

As expected of being the Number One Hero, his duties to the populace only grow more challenging with each passing moment. But he knows better than to complain about the job he was so heavily entrusted to by All Might. Besides, nothing beats saving the day and putting a smile on every citizen’s face. Well, nothing… except maybe spending time with you at the end of the day.

“I’m proud of you though, Izuku. You’ve been working so hard lately,” you say sweetly as your hand goes to massage Midoriya’s neck, rubbing at just the right areas that make him relax beneath your touch. “So proud of you.”

“Y-Yeah?” Midoriya doesn’t mean to stutter, but he fights back a groan when your fingers slowly travel up to his scalp.

“Yeah…” Your voice is tenderly hushed between you two, leaning in closer, to the point where your faces are seconds from touching. With your fingers still twined in his curly green hair, you angle him ever so slightly to meet the smoldering look in your eyes. It doesn’t take much for him to mirror the expression, eyes growing equally lidded and just as desirable. Then, before you had even realized it, you both closed the distance.

Tongue and teeth immediately clash. Midoriya is quick to overpower you as you let out a giggle, being forced to lay back on the couch. With your show inevitably about to be forgotten, the green-haired male smoothly reaches for the remote on your side before pointing the off button at the TV and tossing it to the ground.

He cradles your head from behind to bring your lips impossibly closer. Your hands remain laced through unruly emerald strands, occasionally tugging at his scalp, evoking a hum that vibrates between your lips coming together again and again.

When you finally separate after a rather lengthy session of lip-locking, your breaths are ragged—faces hot. He stares down at you, transfixed by your swollen, plush lips that he wishes to dive down again for more kisses.

“God, what did I ever do to deserve you?” he asks—a rhetorical question, but you smile at it nonetheless.

“I should be asking you that, Number One Hero.” You cup his face in your hands, thumb delicately brushing against those endearing freckles of his as you’re about to pull him down again.

But, just as your eyes close, waiting for your mouths to meet, the world splits open at a blaring echo crashing upon you. You abruptly halt your movements, watching as Midoriya does the same, eyes blown wide. You both turn your heads in the direction of the sound coming from the phone next to the kitchen.

“The phone…” Midoriya murmurs, wondering who would be calling at this hour. But upon glancing over at the wall clock, you remember something. It was actually around that time you were expecting a phone call from a friend of yours anyway. It had entirely slipped your mind after being so caught up in your make-out session with him.

“Sorry, Izuku. It’s probably for me,” you inform, an apologetic smile on your face as he slowly gets off you, allowing you to cease the ringing in the distance.

Sitting up on the couch, he watches you traverse to the kitchen, his elbows resting on his thighs. He drops his head into his hands, noticing his leg hopping up and down restlessly. It’s hard to come down from his high after getting worked up like that, and with that phone call appearing out of nowhere, he’s not sure what to do with himself other than not to get too excited.

Despite that, Midoriya musters the most patience as he possibly can. I mean, the amount of times you’ve been interrupted by Midoriya’s own urgent calls coming from his agency warrants him to exercise some self-restraint, knowing how riled up you could get at times, yet still kindly letting him go about his work like the saint you are.

But after a long day of patrolling the city and defeating foes, all Midoriya desires at the moment is to drown in all the love you have to offer him and leave everything behind to think of only you and him together. He overhears your conversation due to the silence spread across your living space, making out bits and pieces but never taking the time to distinguish the topic of your discussion.

No good, he thinks. Midoriya resigns to the fact he simply can’t keep as still as he would like, already getting up from the couch to seek you out. When he finds you, you’re laughing into the phone, likely finding whatever your friend said humorous, but when he wraps his arms around you, you jerk in surprise, that same laughter replaced by a quiet squeal. You feel Midoriya’s head tuck itself in the space linking your neck and shoulder, planting a single delicate kiss on the exposed skin. He glances at you, emerald eyes gleaming in a silent plea.

You smile in reply, understanding what he wants as you hold up a finger to tell him to give you a moment. “Um, sorry, I’ll have to call you back later. There’s something I have to do right now,” you say into the phone and after exchanging farewells, dismiss the call.

Turning in his arms, you come face-to-face with the relieved look in his eye. “Baby couldn’t wait?”

He releases a sigh, smiling warily. “You know I can never wait when it comes to you.”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

Fresh and clean out of the shower, you toss your towel around your slightly damp hair as you walk into the bedroom. Todoroki is already there waiting for you, sitting on the edge of your shared futon while checking something on his phone. Upon hearing your footsteps, he glances up, and smiles as soon as your eyes find each other. He clicks his phone off and sets it to the side before beckoning you over with spread arms.

You kneel in front of him and lean into his comforting embrace. His body is just the right temperature against you that soothes the heat abiding your skin from your steamy shower. Feeling you melt into his chest, he tilts his head, pressing his nose into your hair, and notes the fragrant scent of your shampoo that harmoniously washes over his senses.

“You smell… nice,” he comments, nuzzling his nose to your neck.

Honey… and vanilla…

You giggle at the tickling sensation. “I would hope so, considering I just took a shower.” Todoroki hums at your humor, lifting his head to find your eyes. He takes a moment to pay every detail its utmost attention, from your misty hair to the warmth flushed on your cheeks as his knuckles graze over your skin. You look away from his punctilious gaze, his gray and turquoise eyes making you feel small.

That won’t do, he thinks.

Before you can even process his actions, he leans forward to capture your lips. Taken by surprise, a faint sound floats above your mouth that is quickly swallowed by him.

Again… and again… and again.

As you let yourself surrender to the fervent kisses, Todoroki maneuvers you two onto your futon, where he hovers over you, lips never once parting throughout your movements. You hum in delight when his tongue immerses itself in your mouth. The gratuitous feeling doesn’t stick for long though.

A ringing sound resonates above the futon, and your attention is immediately diverted. Your motions falter beneath him, causing you to fall off beat now that your mind has one more thing to worry about. On the other hand, Todoroki is least bit concerned over the noise, unrelentingly nibbling at your lips to try and elicit more sweetness from them. Unfortunately, his fun is cut short as you lay your hand on his chest, lightly pushing him away so he removes his mouth from you.

“Shouto... My phone.”

Todoroki glances at the phone in question before returning to your form, disheveled under him. He gives you a look of indifference. “It can wait,” he states simply, about to dive down to resume what he started, but you don’t concede so easily.

“It could be important,” you reason.

Releasing a sigh, Todoroki allows you some space to turn over on your stomach and reach out for your phone, the chiming desisting as you answer it and greet whoever decided to call you at this time of night.

The conversation you’re having flies over Todoroki’s head. The only thing on his mind right now is you finishing the call and continuing where you two left off, praying it won’t take long.

However, eventually his impatience gets the best of him. His eyes wander the room simply to return to you—laying with your upper body propped on your pillow as you hover the phone next to your ear. He peeks at the small droplet of water trailing your hair just before it falls atop the skin of your neck. He seems almost mesmerized by it as it begins its trek down your collarbones, reveling in the enticing sight despite how ordinary it must be to the common eyes. For him, it just makes things all the more difficult to sit still.

Needy and with little to do, he shifts toward you.

“Right, and I– Ah!” your sentence slips on you mid-speech as you feel something cold touch the nape of your neck.

“Y/n? Everything alright?” your caller asks, static voice laced with concern that you almost overlook when the chilling sensation on your neck returns. You turn your head and discover Todoroki bending forward to place his lips repeatedly on your neck. You can’t tell if his lips are particularly colder than usual or if you’re still a little heated from your shower. Either way, the heightened sensitivity raises goosebumps on your skin.

“I-I’m fine! I just bumped into something, is all!” you reply, though your voice pitches, feeling Todoroki’s equally cool hands graze your back under your shirt.

“Oh, please be careful! The fatigue must be catching up with you after such a long day, and I did call you at a pretty late time, huh? Tell you what, we can talk about this again tomorrow morning so you can get your rest for the night, okay?”

You are beyond grateful for the convenience bestowed to you. Though, you honestly think resting is surely the last thing on a certain someone’s mind right now.

“Right! Thank you..! Have a good night!” With that, you promptly end the call. Repositioning onto your back, you cross eyes with Todoroki, making a point at hardening your expression and seeming offended. Though the man knows it’s more so a facade than anything and that you’re not actually angry at him.

“Oh, you..!” You emphasize your words with a bump of your fist against his shoulder, albeit with minimal strength.

He chuckles at your pouty lips, leaning down for a peck before moving some hair out of your face. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he admits, the curve of his lips bordering on a smirk and a genuine smile that you find hard to be mad at.

“Shall we resume where we left off then?”

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha imagine #bnha scenarios #mha x reader #bakugou imagine #midoriya imagine #todoroki imagine

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extasiswings · 2 years

Note

scream you dont need to reply to this but i cant message bc we aren't mutuals but i just wanted to say thank you for your hot takes abt the *** article-- i didnt read it bc i know it would just piss me off more BUT seeing the ripples through the fandom (right before a new episode we are excited for nonetheless) had me back in to see what people were saying and yeah, it's just nice to come here and see you calling it like it is :)

You’re welcome! I’m just—*sigh*

The thing is, I knew this was going to be a shitshow. That’s why I preemptively started making posts about it days ago as soon as we heard an article would be forthcoming. And I was prepared to roll my eyes and be frustrated and annoyed at the inevitable pessimistic doomsday despairing. What I wasn’t anticipating was the level of upset from my fellow queer folks, not about the implication (because we’re all still Buddie canon truthers) but because of the rhetoric. And I get it, I do, because it’s incredibly hurtful to have your lived experiences dismissed out of hand, to have someone reiterate the same sort of thing that many of us have had people say or assume about our own identities and relationships and feelings—that our experiences are invalid, that we’re confused, that we don’t actually know what we want or what we’re seeing—the sort of will-they-won’t-they “it’s all just platonic and you’re reading into it” lines that get bandied about so readily for non-canon het couples come with a certain amount of baggage when placed in the context of non-canon queer couples. Because it inadvertently steps into a very particular strain of queer pain. And straight people just…do not get that. The fact that it isn’t intentional doesn’t make it hurt less, but they don’t, and I do think it’s worth acknowledging that. And I also think it’s worth acknowledging that as much as we as fans don’t have a blueprint for this situation (a slow burn non-canon queer ship going canon), neither do the showrunners.

That said, I also do think it is incredibly important for everyone to be aware of the myriad issues involved in this piece. It was written by someone who has a very well-known agenda of trying to claim the show is terrible about queer rep (blatantly false) and queerbaiting (also not true) and is extremely aggressive, combative, and unprofessional in interviews while trying to make that point. We don’t know the questions he asked, or how many questions he asked, or how he went about asking them. We don’t know if the quotes that were published were part of a longer response, and we don’t even know if they were the first response—it is entirely possible that initial answers were more polite/vague/cagey and he pushed and pushed and pushed until he got a soundbite that he could use to paint them in the worst light possible (and when someone is baiting you by asking the same thing over and over and you can’t get specific, yeah, you’re going to get frustrated and say things you don’t mean—and maybe we don’t know for a fact that’s what happened here, but based on prior experience, particularly re the tone and questions of the post-finale interview where he explicitly accused Tim of queerbaiting, it seems likely). So basically…all that to say, I think everyone’s feelings are valid, but I also think it’s worth directing the anger and hurt to the right places—to the person who manipulated the situation specifically for this result for clout and to serve a personal agenda. That’s my two cents.

(Also, as a reminder, this wasn’t the piece they signed up for either—it was just supposed to be a standard PR piece for 5x11 and he asked extra questions because there was time. It wasn’t the focus of the interview and wasn’t necessarily something they were prepared to discuss)

#chapel talks #oatmilkbuck

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