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#Daniel corral
rainymoodlet · 11 months
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Kiss Me in Komorebi+ 🌸
[Episode Two] Group Date with House One!
For the first group date of our season, Daniel and the contestants of House One enjoyed a warm afternoon out on the terrace of the Manor!
[ Part 1/3 ] 🌹
@retro-plasma @buglaur @lre333 @rebouks @yikessims @kawaiishitty @akitasimblr
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docpiplup · 1 year
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A new upcoming film, Un cel de plom (2023)
@asongofstarkandtargaryen
On April 28, Un cel de plom (Ashes in the Sky), the first fiction film by Miquel Romans that tells the life of Neus Català, one of the last survivors of the Ravensbrück Nazi extermination camp, will be released in theaters. Nausicaa Bonnín (Tres díascon la familia, La luz de Elna) puts herself in the shoes of the historic woman in a free adaptation of the homonymous book by Carme Martí (Amsterdam Publishing House, 2012), specifically in one of its episodes, in the which narrates the return home of this activist in the anti-fascist struggle and a reference to the French resistance.
«This is a story of overcoming, of absences and of struggle for memory, a story of women fighters and dreamers. Neus died in April 2019 at the age of 103 and this film wants to be a tribute to her”, explains Romans, who makes his feature film debut with this film that will have its world premiere on the day April 22 as a film in competition in the Official Section of the BCN Film Fest 2023.
Catalá was born in 1915 in Guiamets. Once the Civil War broke out, she worked in defense of the Republic as a nurse, and finally crossed the border with France along with 180 boys and girls from one of Negrín's colonies. There she joined the Resistance, together with her husband, Albert Roger. Her militancy ended in detention and torture in Limoges prison and she was finally deported in 1944 to the Ravensbrück women's extermination camp. From Ravensbrück she was transferred to the Holleischen labor camp (Czechoslovakia), where she joined a group of women who sabotaged the bullet production factory where the Nazis made them work. They were known as El Comando de Gandulas.
In 1945, with the liberation of the Nazi camps, Neus Català returns to France after being imprisoned by the German army. As she recovers her life in freedom, she recalls the events of when she formed part of El Comando de Gandulas. But the true resistance of Neus Català begins now: the fight for memory.
Cast: Nausicaa Bonnín, Rachel Lascar, Roger Batalla, Iria del Río, Natalia Barrientos, Paula Vélez, Laura Conejero, Quitterie Picamoles, Pep Ferrer, Daniel Horvath, Christiane Dollmann and Fernando Corral.
• Screenplay: Miquel Romans, Lydia Zimmermann
• Photography: Marc Zumbach
• Production: Miquel Romans
Un cel de plom is produced by Principal 2 Films and Comando de Gandulas AIE in co-production with TV3, with the participation of Aragón TV and the support of the ICEC. Filmax will distribute it in theaters.
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solarlibros · 2 years
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Misael González Ramírez, José Luis Sánchez Gavi, Adriana Sletza Ortega Ramírez (coords.) Perspectivas trasnacionales y migración Enfoques temáticos Benemérita Universidad Autónoma de Puebla Altares Costa-Emic Editores México, 2013 414 págs. Primera edición ⭐ Impreso un 28 de junio… ISBN: 978-607 Tiene 9 años… COD: #LSCV0717-11 Precio: $270 _ En muy buen estado 💜 Presenta cierto desgaste _ Participan: Bárbara Rostecka Misael González Ramírez Adriana Sletza Ortega Ramírez Louis Mendoza Elena Oros José Luis Sánchez Gavi Oscar Calderón Mirillón Gustavo López Ángel Jorge González Ramírez Miguel Moctezuma Longoria Abel Gómez Gutiérrez Daniel Corrales Jiménez Luis Miguel Morales Rasshel Ramíre Dardón Aguilar Patricia Yunuen Gallardo Ortega Araceli Espinosa Márquez Diana G. Palmerín Velasco Pedro Manuel Rodríguez Suárez _ Síguenos en nuestras redes ☀️ https://solarlibros.tumblr.com https://twitter.com/SolarLibros https://www.facebook.com/solarlibros https://www.instagram.com/solarlibros _ Favor de escribir 😎☕ Entregas en el centro de la ciudad y a domicilio costo extra
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goodwithcheese · 1 month
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Love at First...Fight
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Summary: Your night is rescued by a cowboy. (Part of the Love at First... anthology.)
Pairing: Jack Daniels x f!reader
Rating: No explicit content, but 18+ please.
Warning: mention of alcohol, mild violence
Word Count: 1K
That drink cost twelve bucks.
That’s your first thought as you watch it fly from your fingers, watch it tip in mid-air to splash rum and Coke and ice onto the scarred wood of the barroom floor. Sure, it had tasted like paint thinner and made you wince, but you’d barely even had a dollar’s worth of sips yet.
But another thought swiftly replaces that one – oh, shit.
The drunks who are tangling with shouted curses and limp punches behind you slam into you a second time, sending you to your hands and knees in the puddled mess on the floor.
“Break it up!” You catch a glimpse of long legs in dark jeans and polished boots stepping past you. The broad-shouldered man they belong to moves his body into the space between you and the fighters, and you turn your head in time to see him shove them into the arms of their friends.
“Get your boys under control.” His voice is deep and authoritative, cutting through the air like the crack of a whip, and the two groups of men corral the bleary-eyed brawlers and pull them to opposite ends of the room.
“You alright?” For you, his voice is gentler. It drawls soft and sinuous as he crouches next to you, and he pushes up the brim of his cowboy hat to look into your face.
“Least it wasn’t glass?” You shrug limply as you look at the plastic cup upended on the floor. You shake your hands with a frown; they’re sticky with liquor and soda, plus God-only-knows what germs from this grimy floor.
“Anything hurt?” He rises, his fingertips light at your elbow as he eases you up with him. He takes a half-step back, his eyes moving from your face to your feet and back again. “Nothin’s bleeding. Probably wanna wash up, though.”
You nod, shivering at the trickle of your overpriced drink down your bare shins.
“Ladies’ room is right over here.” He blazes a trail across the crowded floor of the bar; you stay close behind, fingertips just touching the crisply-ironed cotton of his cobalt blue shirt. In his protective wake, you avoid the jostling and the ‘accidental’ brushes of your ass that had been your company for the last half-hour you’d been in this place.
It doesn’t hurt that he smells good, too: spice and smoke, second summer and wide open skies.
“Thanks.” You give him a smile as you push the restroom door open with your elbows, tacky hands held high in the air.
“No need to thank me.” He touches the brim of his hat, and you notice his dark eyes are nearly as black as the felt of his Stetson. “If I woulda rounded ‘em up quicker, they might not have laid you out like that.”
“Well, you kept me from getting stepped on, so…” You let the words drift off, tilting your head towards the restroom. “Going to go clean up now.”
He smiles – full lips beneath a neat dark mustache – and nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
The tap labeled ‘hot’ at the bathroom sink is misleading – the stream that dribbles out is tepid at best. It takes a few handfuls of cheap paper towels and a dozen squirts of pink hand soap that smells like a hospital corridor before you feel somewhat clean. You dry your legs and hands with another wad of paper towels, then stuff them into the already-overflowing trashcan.
You sigh, looking in the mirror. The flickering fluorescent light adds a sweaty sheen to your skin that you hope is just an illusion, but you force your shoulders back and your chin up with a determined nod. You paid the cover and you love this band and you’ll be damned if you’re going to let a spilled drink and a couple of drunks ruin your night out: not when there are cowboys to be danced with.
The narrow hallway delivers you back onto the crowded floor, and you fight your way to the bar that stretches along the back wall. You try – and fail – three times to catch the bartender’s eye when you catch the scent of familiar cologne. Your cheeks feel warm as you turn to see the man from earlier leaning against the bar next to you.
“Good as new?”
“Just a couple of sore knees. Not the first time.” His eyebrows flicker up as your words offer an interpretation you didn’t intend; your cheeks grow warm but you meet his eyes. "Yeah, I heard that, too.”
A dimple flashes on his cheek but he mercifully changes the subject. “What were you drinking?”
“Rum and Coke. But I’m going with plain Coke this time.”
“Didn’t like the rum?”
“That rum is lifting the varnish off the floor as we speak.”
He laughs and you like it – it rumbles deep in his chest and crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Coke it is.”
Somehow, he barely lifts his hand and the bartender is there, nodding at his order: one soda, one beer, one shot. He downs the whiskey – the shot glass is doll-sized in his thick fingers and you let your eyes linger. He leaves the glass on the counter and picks up the beer, turning to face you.
“You here to dance or just to listen?” He angles his jaw towards the stage where a roadie is taping a strip of guitar picks to each mic stand.
You take a sip of your Coke, contemplating which answer you want to give. A quick inhale – that scent again. “Not sure yet. How about you?”
“I might be obliged to dance.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “If your knees aren’t too sore.”
“They might be.” You smile with a tilt of your head. “You’d probably have to hold me up.”
He grins and reaches out his hand. “If I’m going to be doin’ that, we’d best introduce ourselves. Jack Daniels.”
You point to the empty shot glass on the counter. “Are we giving fake names? It’s that kind of night?”
“Darlin’ –” his dark eyes twinkle beneath the brim of his hat – “it can be whatever kind of night you want.”
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jeannereames · 2 months
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Cambridge Companion to Alexander the Great
I know that academic books are often just too expensive for the casual fan, but this new Companion from Cambridge, in its paperback format, is surprisingly cheap ($44.99 pback, and $42.74 Kindle).
I HIGHLY recommend it, as it's an update to the older Brill's Companion to Alexander the Great (2003). If you have a serious interest in Alexander, you should snag it. Yes, I have two chapters in it, but that's not why I'm recommending it. I get no royalties. I'm recommending it because Daniel Ogden corralled the best scholars currently writing in the field.
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If you're not familiar already with these "Companion" books from a variety of academic publishers (Wiley-Blackwell, Brill, Cambridge, etc.), they're designed to be summaries of the current state of research on various topics in the ancient world. Yes, they have footnotes, but you won't be wading through a lot of Greek and Latin, or complicated arguments. They're meant to be introductions for serious non-specialists and grad students who want to know what the current research says, but don't have time to read thirty-nine academic articles on, say, Who Killed Philip? Each chapter has "further reading" suggestions if you'd like to go deeper. And the bibliography is comprehensive. These Companions are what I go to when I'm working on, say, a class about a topic that I'm not a specialist in (like the Aegean Bronze Age).
So YES, if you're an Alexander fan, you want to purchase this book, especially at this price. Many Companion books run over $100. That this one is under $50, at least in paperback form, is a DEAL.
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luthienne · 1 year
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I felt deeply the grief in this book. I felt less alone after reading it. —Eduardo C. Corral
this is genuinely such a beautiful collection and i can’t wait for everyone to get a chance to read it and see the world through the lens of sara’s eyes and language. she writes with so much clarity and intention, and is able to dissect experience & put language to it in such a precise and devastating way. when i feel like something is too immense for language, i turn to her. she breaks me open with her words over and over again, and without fail is a hand always guiding me out, always pulling me back to shore. i am endlessly lucky to love her and endlessly excited to celebrate the publication of her first poetry book, the blue mimes 💗💞
you can follow her on ig for more updates on when this is going to be published and where you can order it, to read more of her poetry and to see her work as a multidisciplinary artist <333
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from Sara Daniele Rivera's poem, The Split
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gemini-sensei · 1 year
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Don't mind me and my chaotic af ideas, but- (warning for abusive households (non physical), controlling behavior, forced separation/break up) (@sensei-venus)
Imagine if Reader, Hawk and Miguel are in a secret relationship because her parents don't like them. So they sneak around, fall in love, and get it on. They're so happy in their relationship even though they can't tell anyone. They'd be much happier of they could be open about their relationship, but it just isn't an option right now. Juliet and her two Romeos will just have to wait it out.
Except Reader is hit with the unexpected and shocking news that her parents have been planning on moving out of the Valley. Her dad got a great job opportunity, so they'll be moving hours away and taking their daughter from the boys that have been causing trouble to them, thinking it will fix whatever issues they have.
However, trouble follows them.
Not in the form of Hawk and Miguel driving hours away to help Reader runaway or anything like that. But in the form of the baby they put in her belly before she moved, which was unplanned and unforeseen.
Reader feels so connected to Hawk and Miguel through the baby, but it also hurts because she can't tell them about it. She's forbidden from talking to them, her actions closely monitored. Despite not liking Hawk or Miguel, her parents tolerate her pregnancy and eventually the baby that's born. However, they don't do much to help. They provide a roof over Reader and her baby's head, they feed them, buy their clothes. That's more than enough in their opinion, leaving Reader to raise and careful her little chubby baby alone. They handle the financial, she handles the actual baby, "since she went and got herself pregnant," as her mom will say.
But then the job her dad got falls through. Shit goes bad and the family is forced to move back to the Valley, with enough luck that he was able to get his old job back. Reader is silently excited, knowing that being so close to Hawk and Miguel will put nothing in their way of seeing each other again. But it's been a year, people change. She certainly has...
So will they still care? Do they still love her? And what will they think of their baby girl? who looks so much like Miguel with thick dark curls and soft tan skin.
Reader manages to get away from her parents by saying her baby girl has a doctor's appointment to find her a new pediatrician, when really she's driving up to the dojo because she knows she'll find her loves there.
So imagine Hawk and Miguel's shock when they see not only Reader walking through the gate, but the baby blankets held to her chest that wriggle and move restlessly.
Hawk can't help but think Reader looks as beautiful as ever, with a little extra meat on her bones than he being on her the last time they saw each other. Full hips, fatter chest, pudgier belly. She's glowing with motherhood and he just wants to run to her and hold her fell her body with his own so he knows that he isn't dreaming and that she actually there.
And Miguel is ready to drop to his knees and burst into tears. Here's one of the loves of his life whom he thought he may never see again, at least not so soon. And she's cradling a curious and wiggly infant to her chest, smiling nervously at them until the baby starts to fuss.
She shushes the little one and bounces her, telling her everything is alright. "It's time you meet your daddies."
Everyone else is justifiably shocked. Maybe a select few people knew they were dating, like Sam and Demetri, but the baby - she's a huge surprise.
Daniel and Johnny welcome the pair into the dojo, pausing the lesson to allow for a much needed Q&A session. However, they corral the other teens away so Hawk, Miguel and Reader can talk.
"It's so good to see you again," Hawk tells her, kissing her cheek before they get into any conversation. He's so overwhelmed with happiness, his heart might burst. "We missed you so much. Who's this?"
"This is Rosalía, but I mostly call her Rosie," Reader giggles.
And Miguel breaks down as he hears the name because he knows Reader named their daughter after one of the most important people in his whole life. Hawk has to hold him and rub his back as he sputters and tries to suck it up. He manages to do so when Rosie starts fussing and whining because he's upset, and him being upset is going to make her upset.
"It's okay, Rosie," he tells her, voice a little pitched. He sniffles and wipes his eyes, smiling at the baby soon thereafter. "I'm okay, see?"
"Can we hold her?" Hawk asks, soft and hopeful, almost as if he's not supposed to ask such a thing.
"Of course," Reader giggles and passes the baby over to Hawk. She helps with the position on his hands and instructs him on how to hold her head. "Look at you. You're a natural at this."
Miguel comes close and gently touches Rosie's mass of curls, so soft and delicate. He kisses her head and smiles at her, then he and Hawk are saying hello and introducing themselves.
"We're your dads," Miguel laughs softly, making sure not to be too loud. He smiles at Hawk, who is wearing the same 'holy shit this is real' smile.
Hawk kisses Rosie's head. "And we love you so much."
Hawk and Miguel and Reader finally feel whole again after being apart for a year, though it felt like much longer. And the guys couldn't be happier with who Reader came back with.
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lightleckrereins · 1 month
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The end of an era: Six cruise productions have officially closed
13 productions (plus two cancelled ones), four and a half years and 103 queens later. A chaotic but iconic era in six history is over.
Candace Furbert, Hazel Karooma-Brooker, Caitlin Tipping, Sophie Golden, Alicia Corrales, Viquichele Cross, Natalie Pilkington, Bryony Duncan, Lori McLare, Jasmine Jia Yung Shen, Kelly Sweeney, Amy Bridges, Jessica Niles, Georgia Carr, Amelia Walker, Liv Alexander, Elizabeth Walker, Jade Marvin, Lucy Aiston, Gabriella Stylianou, Scarlet Gabriel, Rebecca Wickes, Megan Leung, Abbi Hodgson, Sophie-Rose Middleton, Artemis Chrisoulakis, Ellie Sharpe, Melinda Porto, L'Oréal Roaché, Wesley Carpenter, Maya Christian, Brianna Brito Mooney, Meghan Dawson, Marilyn Caserta, Ashlee Waldbauer, Lauren Irving, Danielle Mendoza, Shelby Griswold, Kennedy Monica Carstens, Abigail Sparrow, Jarynn Whitney, Madeline Fansler, Channing Weir, Gabbi Mack, Casey Esbin, Ellie Wyman, Sasha Renae Brown, Nicole Lamb, Aja Simone Baitey, Willow Dougherty, Kayla McSorley, Jessie Bodner, Jasmine Hackett, Janice Rijssel, Lucia Valentino, Elena Breschi, Princess Sasha Victomé, Rae Davenport, Gianna Grosso, Kathryn Kilger, Reca Oakley, Jillian Worthing, Bethany McDonald, Sunayna Smith, Hannah Taylor, Sarah McFarlane, Eden Holmes, Fiorella Bamba, Lucinda Wilson, Haley Izurieta, Caitlyn De Kuyper, Amanda Simone Lee, Gabriella Boumford, Meghan Corbett, Analise Rios, Ruby Gibbs, Cydney Clark, Caroline Siegrist, Eloise Lord, Deirdre Duncan, Audrey Fisher, Lorren Santo-Quinn, Billie Kerr Amelia Atherton, Giulia Marolda, Izzy Formby-Jackson, Laura Blair, Maddison Firth, Emily Harrigan, Kara-Ami McCreanor, Sadie Hurst, Adrianna Glover, Alizé Ke'Aloha Cruz, Kristina Walz, Chelsea Lorraine Wargo, Emily Rose Lyons, Meg Dixon-Brasil, Lois Ellise, Jasmine Smith, Jaelle Laguerre, Kate Zulauf, Brooke Aneece, Hannah Lawton
Plus Gabrielle Davina Smith, Melissa Ford, Kaylah Attard, Fia Houston- Hamilton, Rhiannon Bacchus and Rhiannon Doyle who were set to join Breakaway before lockdown.
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vampcubus · 2 years
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KISS HCS | simon, daniel, & nines 
 a/n: bonus round!! no one asked for em but I’m a whore for PL600s and warming up to RK900 so i figured why not. these really got away from me, apparently i can’t write headcanons without exposition 🧍‍♀️ 
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Simon (PL600)
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— What sets domestic androids apart from a lot of the others is their remarkable ability to blend into human families, they have expanded knowledge of affectionate gestures and often double as “significant other” models. So Simon knows why humans kiss and comes to the conclusion very soon that it’s something he wants to experience with you. 
When you kiss Simon for the first time he thinks he’s gone blind and dumb, swears his thirium pump stops for a moment as your lips gingerly brush over his. You see his eyes go half-lidded and soften in a moment. Your hands grip the collar of his shirt like the scruff of a cat. You’re supposed to be angry with him, you remind yourself. He almost died on top of that tower, you were worried sick for hours, and now he’s back admitting he volunteered to be left behind.
Markus and the others got their earful earlier, it’s his turn to have his ear tugged on.
But you can’t find it in yourself to be cross with him because you’re just so happy he’s back, and the icing on the cake is the way he sighs “I love you, i’d never leave you.” against your lips. and suddenly you’re throwing yourself at him, tears streaming down your face as you cup his face and kiss the android with all you have.
— He didn’t know kissing felt like that.
— Simon loves soft and sweet kisses, they are his kryptonite and if you ever want anything from him that’s how you get it. No matter how firm he starts off, he always melts into compliance with every saccharine kiss you tease at the corners of his lips, tilting your head away when he chases your lips, insisting he yields. He always does.
— The type to kiss oh so gently over your closed eyelids just to see you grin with your eyes shut.
— Simon likes kisses to be a part of your routine, like a kiss goodbye before both or one of you is off to work, and a kiss hello when you get home. MANDATORY BEDTIME KISSES, they’re non-negotiable. Simon doesn’t need to sleep but he wants to sleep next to you at night. It always takes an eternity for the two of you to finally settle down and sleep because you’re too busy smoochin’ and whispering sweet nothings to one another. 
— While the majority of the kisses Simon initiates are intended to be chaste and innocent, you have a way of drawing him back in and making him want more so easily. Will literally lay on the couch for hours with you just lovingly(?) making out with you, trying to fit as much of his tongue in your mouth as he can as you teasingly swirl your own around his, your fingers tangled in the synthetic blonde strands of his hair. 
— Moans into kisses like a whore fight me.
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Daniel (PL600)
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— Like Simon, he knows about kissing and I mean his previous owners were a married couple that wasn’t necessarily embarrassed being affectionate in front of their android. He just never expects to get the opportunity to try it. Daniel is grateful you even let him stay, let alone pursue a romantic relationship with you– which was very hard, by the way, getting someone who literally just had their trust shattered into pieces to trust you.
— Despite Daniel’s trauma initially prompting him to distance himself from you, being a part of a family is something he craves so deeply. 
— When you kiss Daniel for the first time, it’s hesitant and you aren’t sure if it’s the right move. 
He’s having an episode, pacing around the kitchen mumbling about Emma, how it wasn’t fair. How he didn’t mean to do it. When you finally corral him against the counter, hands on either side of his face in a way you can only hope is comforting. The touch draws those silvery blue eyes to yours and suddenly the guarded, bitter Daniel you’d known up until that point melted away and you knew you were seeing a glimpse of who he used to be. He’s vulnerable now and you know you need to be careful.
“I never meant to hurt them.”
“I know, Daniel. It’s in the past, you aren’t just their machine anymore. You’re safe here.” you soothe, but the PL600 is unconvinced.
“The police are rounding us up and sending us to camps, if you’re caught with me- “ he starts, and you realize he’s worried about what might happen to you for hiding him.
“I won’t let them take you, you deserve to be free. If that means we have to pack up and sneak you across the border, then that’s what we’ll do.” You asserted, your thumbs brushing away his synthetic tears as his hands come up to hold yours over his face. “I won’t lose you.”
You know you’ve finally broken through that icy barrier he’s kept between you when he leans down to rest his forehead against yours. His LED is blinking yellow, but before you can ask why his lips are on yours. The kiss is gentle and riddled with hesitation, but you only sigh and wrap your arms around his neck in encouragement. 
— He’s yours now, be gentle with him.
— Hug him from behind while he cooks, pepper butterfly kisses from his shoulder up his neck to that spot behind his ear that makes his whole body shudder. You discovered gentle touches around his biocomponents could be immensely pleasurable and most definitely took advantage. His audio processor is right there, so he can’t help but sigh when you kiss there.
— Daniel’s kisses are usually soft, slow, and loving, the type where you can’t help but stop what you’re doing and lose yourself in the moment.
— Daniel’s kisses are radically different when made jealous; however, they’re desperate and possessive. You often have to tap at his shoulder to remind him to let you breathe 😅 there’s no better way to reassure him than to match his energy. Kiss him until he forgets what he was even worried about, till all he can think about is your lips against his. 
— Kissing’s a part of his routine. A kiss hello and goodbye before and after work, a kiss good morning and goodnight. It’s muscle memory at this point.
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Nines (RK900)
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— Kissing is pretty foreign to Nines, he was designed specifically to be cold, calculating, and efficient at hunting down deviants- and now he is deviant and very lost on how to cope with the change. Cyberlife did their damndest to prevent him from achieving deviancy, so naturally, he takes longer to grasp emotions and how to handle them. 
— That’s not to say he doesn’t have urges to kiss you, because he absolutely does. He just doesn’t know what to do about those urges.
— If you only saw how fascinated he was when checking the footage from the last stand outside the recall center during the revolution. His LED flickering between blue and yellow as he watches Markus and North kiss in front of hundreds of soldiers, shocking the media and stopping the assault altogether.
— He knew straight away you were who he wanted to experience it with, but Nines was quite notoriously terrible at expressing himself without coming off as a huge prick. You butted heads for sure in the beginning, which made the android's feelings for you even more frustrating to deal with. He wanted to bond with you but every time he opened his mouth he just made you angry.
— You don’t see this of course, but you know how androids can construct routes of action? He absolutely reconstructs kissing scenes but never executes them. 
— You’re often saddled in cases together so obviously all that tension has to burst sooner or later. 
It happens when you’ve finally had enough of him and burst into Fowler’s office demanding to be put in a car with anyone else—you’d even have taken Gavin at that point. Nines only catches the last bits of the spat but puts things together pretty quickly. Before you can storm off he corners you in a hallway of the station.
“You don’t want to be partners anymore?” it’s accusatory, and you hate that it makes you feel guilty. 
“Partners? All we do is butt heads and disagree over cases, Nines. I’m done trying to understand you.” You seethe, but you’re taken aback by how unhinged the usually stoic and polished android detective looks. His LED is spinning between yellow and red with every word and he’s deliberately blocking the exit. “You should be grateful, you’ll get a more compliant partner.”
“I don’t want a more compliant partner, I want you.” He's wearing an expression you recognize as desperation.
“That doesn’t make any fucking sense, you’ve never wanted anything other than to be a huge pain in my a- “ but you’re cut off by his cold lips against yours and that certainly shuts you up.
You had resigned yourself to believing you’d probably never know why he hated you so much. That maybe Nines just didn’t want to build connections with anyone, that deviancy just wasn’t his thing, but this new… information was providing evidence to the contrary. 
— Nines is a pretty awkward kisser in the beginning, and it takes practice and some pointers for him to improve. Once you get past the stiffness, and teach him where to put his hands and how to move his lips against yours he quickly becomes obsessed with kissing. The RK models are one of the few with the ability to taste things, and once you’ve introduced Nines to kissing with tongue it’s all he really wants to do.
— Will literally make out with you for hours if that’s your desire. There’s nowhere he feels more content than up against a wall somewhere with your tongue down his throat. 
— Most arguments turn into angry kissing nowadays. Say sorry later kiss me now, that type deal. 
— And once Nines finally thaws out? Everything about him—including the way he kisses you softens. He takes his time kissing you, gives you that longing look when you pull away first (because otherwise he’d keep you there all day) he can never really get enough of you.
— If you’re ever interrupted right before your lips meet he’s so pouty, sending death glares at the distraction until he gets his kiss 😤
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solipseismic · 1 year
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2022 poetry rec list
wrapping up this year w another poetry rec list! this year i’ve leaned a lot more into actively reading and writing much more poetry and hope to be publishing a compilation of my work (hopefully!) this time next year as well :) once again, i’ve tried to link what i could back to original sources + authors but a few of these link to tumblr posts / screenshots. this one is MUCH longer so i’ve organized it into my fav 15 + the rest below the cut!
top fifteen:
desert hymns no.2 (@/prophetfromthecrypt)
despite my efforts even my prayers have turned into threats (kaveh akbar)
erishkigal specializes in butchery (joan tierney)
for the dogs who barked at me on the sidewalks in connecticut (hanif abdurraqib)
fricatives (eric yip)
hammond b3 organ cistern (gabrielle calvocoressi)
let your father die energy drink (daniel lavery)
morning prayer with rat king (kaveh akbar)
not even this (ocean vuong)
on coming back as a buzzard (lia purpura)
the swan (@/tinyghosthands)
sometimes i wish i felt the side effects (danez smith)
song of the insensible (andrew kozma)
space boy wearing skirt (lee jenny)
the stars are warm (chung ho-seung)
everyone else:
14 lines from love letters or suicide notes (doc luben)
blood makes the blade holy (evan knoll)
border patrol agent (eduardo c corral)
carpet bomb (kenyatta rogers)
death comes to me again, a girl (dorianne laux)
desert (john gould fletcher)
do you consider writing to be therapeutic? (andrew grace)
dust (dorianne laux)
first will and testament + missing persons (sam sax)
fish (richelle buccilli)
for the feral splendor that remains (caconrad)
glitter (keaton st james)
gravedigger (andrew thomas huang)
heart condition (jericho brown)
it is maybe time to admit that michael jordan definitely pushed off (hanif abdurraqib)
leaves (lloyd schwartz)
letter to s, hospital (emily skaja)
metaphors for my body on the examination table (torrin a greathouse)
miss you. would like to grab that chilled tofu we love (gabrielle calvocoressi)
my brother, asleep (steven espada dawson)
my brother out of rehab, points, (ron riekki)
my cat is sad (spencer madsen)
notes from jonah's lecture series (tanya olsen)
publick universal friend contends with orthgraphy & meditates in an emergency (day heisinger-nixon)
red stains (allen tate)
red shift (david baker)
salvage (hedgie choi)
shoulders (naomi shihab nye)
social skills training (solmaz sharif)
the 17-year-old & the gay bar (danez smith)
the desert dispels this hallowed ground of coarse insinuations (julia wong kcomt)
the twelfth day (rosanna warren)
two-mom energy drink (daniel lavery)
two poems (rachel nelson)
two times i loved you the most in a car (dorothea grossman)
un [naming] / trans (after golden) (angelic proof)
valentine for ernest mann (naomi shihab nye)
vi. wisdom: the voice of god (mary karr) 
WAITING (keaton st james)
what mary magdalene said to the young transsexual (elle emerson)
wild geese (mary oliver)
worms (shyla hardwick)
171 notes · View notes
mistressemmedi · 4 months
Note
You find yourself responsible for a group of 20 four year olds for a day. Who would you choose to help you manage to get through the day?
I'll do you one better - let's list everyone currently on the grid and whether they're a yay or nay for this situation
Valtteri Bottas ✖️ - absolutely not. Every toddler I've ever met seems to be allergic to wearing pants/clothes, so I don't need Valtteri to encourage that kind of behaviour.
Zhou Guanyu ✔️ - Absolute yes. He would be super patient with them. Also, by the end of the day all of the kids end up wearing Prada.
Yuki Tsunoda ✔️ - Yes but also no. He would somehow corral them into the kitchen to help him make treats. (Messy) disaster would ensue.
Daniel Ricciardo ✖️ - No. He's a toddler himself and would be zero help. Would leave halfway thorough the day and somehow Liam Lawson will be coerced to replace him.
Esteban Ocon ✔️ - somehow he would convince all the toddlers to terrorize Pierre
Pierre Gasly ✖️ - he would get overwhelmed by the first hour and start googling "vasectomy - does it work 100%?" halfway through the day
Fernando Alonso ✖️- they're not toddlers, they're minions. His minions. Absolutely terrifying prospect, no thank you.
Lance Stroll ✔️ - by the end of the day the kiddos know how to spell "NDA" and "hostile takeover". His dad approves
Charles Leclerc ✔️ - his spirit is already broken by Ferrari. 20 hyper four year olds waging psychological warfare on him? Nothing compared to that.
Carlos Sainz ✖️ - he would spend most of his day on the verge of a panic attack while texting his dad "ARE YOU SURE NONE OF THESE ARE MINE??????"
Kevin Magnussen ✔️- Daddy Kevin to the rescue. He would absolutely love every minute of it
Nico Hulkenberg ✔️ - He would help Daddy Kevin. Dream duo. But also would teach swear words to the kiddos
Lando Norris ✔️- Man would have a field day. Would be absolutely pooped by the end of the day but would love every minute of it.
Oscar Piastri ✖️ - Would hyperventilate through the whole thing, then panic, cry and then cause the kids to cry. 10/10 would not recommend
Lewis Hamilton ✖️ - no. Only because I would fold like a wet napkin upon seeing him with kids. The baby fever 😭
George Russell ✔️ - somehow manages to teach the whole group the ins and out of Microsoft 365. Terrifying prospect yet somehow endearing?
Max Verstappen ✔️ - he's already surrounded by toddlers irl. What's 20 more?
Sergio Perez ✖️ - he would take one look at the room full of kids, panic and call 5 nannies to replace him
Alex Albon ✔️ - takes the kids to his home aka "The Albon petting zoo" for the day. They love it.
Logan Sargeant ✔️ - would teach the kids how to play juice pong, which is exactly like beer pong but with juice. By the end of the day all 20 kids know the words to the Pledge of Allegiance. None of the toddlers are American.
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theemporium · 4 months
Note
Okay that Danny ric pic he’s so beefy 🫠🫠 but like where are the danny ric thots ????? We have been lacking. Let’s talk daniel!!!
Brat tamer Danny who can just curl his arm around your waist and sit you on his lap whenever you breathe back. The way it takes almost no effort at all to press you tight against him so you can’t squirm away. 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
Also thinking about fluffy werewolf Danny with his little curls. he’s all big and buff as a human but as a wolf he’s fucking massive. And all he wants to do is curl up next to reader and and cuddle like a big fluffy weighted blanket.
And like werewolf!maxiel???? Don’t even get me started. like max in wolf form is not small by any means, he’s a lot bigger than a normal dog. But the way danny dwarfs him in comparison is insane. And the way that Danny is not above using his wolf form size to his advantage. like he’s trying to get max to be silly goofy with him he’s using the sheer size of his body to corral max and push him around. And the way max brats back and gets all snippy when Danny pulls the big burly wolf card. Idk they’re just silly and I love them
-🌠
brat tamer daniel just does live in my head rent free😔he gives the vibe of soft dom in public but he’s a little meaner behind closer doors and it just makes me🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠
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timeforsomewhump · 9 months
Text
Begging
Masterpost
CW: electric shocks, nonconsensual surgery, dehumanization, temporary blindness
AS-01 wakes up to the familiar feeling of cold metal on its back, restraints across its form. There’s the quiet beeping of monitors, a murmur of speech between some of the assistants. A throbbing pain is settled in its jaw and behind its eyes.
It opens them- and nothing happens. It stares blankly into the darkness for a second, confused.
Closes its eyes. Opens them again. Nothing. 
Its breath comes faster- it can feel its eyes, feels them turn when it tries to look, but when it opens them all it can see is nothingness (It- it’s Owner wouldn’t blind it, wouldn’t make it useless to her, surely-)
(It can’t see, it can’t see)
(Has she decided it’s no longer of use?)
(It knows what happens to failed experiments. It’s seen the remains)
Fear and panic claw at its mind- overwhelming its Rules, its Training- and it cries out (surprised at the lack of its usual muzzle), thrashing against the cuffs- speaking without permission, begging in a meaningless jumble of words- 
(Please, please, it can be good, it will be better, it will-)
Electricity sparks around its throat, stopping its words with a scream as it tenses against the table. The heavy metallic taste of blood fills its mouth, its tongue catching on teeth much sharper than it remembers.
“I’m disappointed, AS-01.” The sound of its Owner’s voice rings out clearly in the sudden silence. It freezes, breath still coming short-
(The Rules, it broke so many Rules, if its Owner wasn’t going get rid of it before she certainly will now-)
Through the pounding in its head, it hears its Owner talking- “Calm it down.” A moment passes, and it feels liquid flow into the tubing in its elbow, slowing its heart, quieting its racing thoughts. A cold hand touches its face, and it leans into the soothing chill (its Owner likes when it appreciates her kindness).  “Why were you panicking, 01? You may speak.”
It takes a second for it to corral its thoughts into words. “It is sorry for breaking its Rules. It…it can’t see-” a hint of the earlier panic returns, and it feels a tear run down its cheek- “It can’t see, please, it can still be useful, it will be good, don’t throw it out, please-” 
——
Daniel watches from the side, carefully impassive (luckily the guard uniform’s mask covers most of his face). He took this job because he needed the money- and it pays well, very well, enough for him to turn a blind eye to what he was doing, to the atrocities he’s helped Hund commit- but sometimes it gets a bit much. 
Watching this kid, already brainwashed into worshipping Hund, into being less than a person, their body changed to her whims, come out of surgery blinded and panicking, begging- not for help, or comfort, but pleading to not be thrown away as if they were a toy to be discarded- insisting that they still have use- would turn all but the most hardened of stomachs. He tunes back into the conversation in time to hear Hund speaking. 
“It’s fine, 01. After this upgrade, eyesight should return in 2-5 days. Your punishment will wait until you’re healed. You may speak.” The kid takes that in for a moment, before smiling (he barely stops himself from flinching at the blood coating their new implants), pressing into Hund’s palm. 
“Thank you, Owner, thank you, it is so grateful for your kindness.” A drop of blood runs down the corner of their mouth. Daniel winces behind his mask (he should really start looking for another job).
——
A few days pass - it is mostly kept strapped to the table (for its own safety, of course), fed through a tube (eating could disrupt the healing process of its new…well, it doesn’t really know what to call them, the jagged plates that have replaced its teeth. It just knows they’re sharp- it bit clean through the feeding tube by accident). 
And on the third day, it opens its eyes and it can see again. It takes some time for it to make out more than simple shapes, light and dark, but soon its vision is completely restored, and even sharper than before - they run tests, as they did before the surgery, getting it to read smaller and smaller letters, in a slowly dimming room, and it beats the most difficult level of the test with ease. Hund is very pleased with its progress, and for a while it thinks that perhaps she forgot about its disobedience.
She didn’t.
Once AS-01 is cleared to move, she leads it to a small room with a desk and a chair, and directs it to kneel in the center. Then she sits at the desk and taps a few commands into her control tablet, before turning to face it.
“Speak.”  
It does as it is told, or tries to at least, but it only gets out the first syllable of ‘thank you’ before the collar sparks, electricity coursing down its spine. It screams, and the collar sparks again, trapping it in a loop for what feels like hours but is probably seconds of torturous agony. Finally, it manages to keep itself from making noise, both hands clamped over its mouth (it should know better, the memory of the ache of a now-old beating curling through its bones).
Hund waits until it stops convulsing, and returns itself to proper posture. “You have permission to scream all you want. Speak.” It looks at her with pleading eyes, but obeys, managing “So-” before the collar comes on again. 
Time passes. The pain starts. The pain stops. Its Owner tells it to speak. It must obey its Owner. 
The pain starts. The pain stops. Its Owner tells it to speak. It must obey its Owner- and it does, it tries, but nothing happens. The whispering hiss- all that escapes its throat- is not even loud enough to set the collar off. 
“01? Speak.” And it tries- and can’t and it can’t tell her that it can’t, so it clutches at its throat, begging without words, and its Owner, in her infinite generosity, understands. She smiles. 
“What are you, 01?” When it predictably fails to answer, she leans down to it, stroking a hand through close-cropped hair. “You’re not a person. Only people get to have opinions- get to decide what happens to them.” It nods frantically, then freezes as she reaches down to grab its throat. 
“If I decide you’re no longer useful, that will be that.” Her fingers dig into the veins on the side of its neck for a moment before she lets go. “So no more silly little outbursts, hm? There’s an event coming up soon, and I want you on your best behaviour.” 
She turns away, pulling a muzzle out of the desk drawer. “It’s not like you can make all those annoying sounds now, but your new teeth could cause some real damage if you decide to be disobedient again.” Hund pauses for a moment to let it shake its head (no, it’ll be good, it’ll make her happy, it’ll be good), before she puts the muzzle on, carefully adjusting the straps. “You’re going to be a stunning centerpiece. I expect you to make me proud.”
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z3nitsusgf · 2 years
Text
cannonball
solider boy | reader
cw: alcohol, dirty talk(?) kinda, sloppy make out, solider boy makes you chug whiskey… yuck, not proofread
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The motel isn’t glamorous, far from it. It’s got ugly yellow carpet from the 80s, stained in… god knows what. Everything is muted and painted dark tans. Even the TV in the corner is a little boxy thing that is more static than family feud. You sit on the edge of one of the loveseats, letting Ben stand between your knees.
You don’t know why you even told him you can’t get drunk, or why you asked for tips on how to feel tipsy again. But you’re starting to regret it with the way Solider Boy is hell-bent on getting you hammered.
He told you, “you’re just not doing it right. I can help you, if you want.” Looking at you with such an intense stare, you didn’t refuse.
Now you’re dealing with his “help”.
He cups the back of your head, fingers sowing through your hair, tilting it back so he can tower over you. His thighs cage you into the loveseat, thick corded muscle preventing you from moving out and away. Corralling you into the backrest, that stupid smirk on his mouth.
“Come on, open up.” He leers, holding the heavy bottle of Jack Daniels between his forefingers, waiting for your lips to slowly part.
He can see the fleshy pink of your tongue, bobbing and twitching along your palate. The ribs of your teeth, pearly white molars. You open up shyly, looking up at him through thick lashes and a sense of embarrassment. It’s oddly erotic to you.
“Good, good. Now—“ Ben lifts the thick caramel-colored bottle of whiskey in his hand. Pressing the lip of the bottle to your mouth, letting you feel the cool glass against your mouth.
“Drink up.” He’s slowly pours the alcohol into your open mouth, letting it pool on your tongue as you try not to choke on the taste. It’s bitter, smoky, and acetone-like. Your fingers blindly reach for him, slipping into his belt loops for support, tugging at his hips when he sloshes the bottle.
He’s chuckling, baritone smoothing over your brain as you gulp down the Kirkland sized bottle of whisky. His fingers smooth over your scalp, holding you tight so you don’t jerk away.
“There you go, fucking taking it like a champ aren’t ya?”
He hardly allows a breath, and in the back of your mind you get the feeling that this is what it must be like to let him fuck your mouth. It makes you clench your thighs, eyes fluttering as droplets of whisky spill from the corners and drip down your chin.
“Damn, you’re pretty easy. Opening your mouth for me like some hooker.”
You don’t like that you’re enjoying this as much as you are. Eyelashes fluttering at his words, grunting as you try and swallow the mouthfuls of whisky. Ben’s hand comes down to hold your jaw when you start to get squirmy, the alcohol sliding down your throat at a slow pace, thick like molasses.
You refrain from making any gagging noises, knowing he’ll just poke even more fun at you. You push at his abdomen, trying to tell him to let up. He only slightly pulls the bottle back to let you pant in a breath before he’s practically shoving the neck of the bottle between your lips.
“Ben-“
“Don’t pussy out now, sweetheart. You asked for help getting drunk, so keep chugging.”
You make a muffled noise, tugging at his belt loops, scraping your nails along the denim of his jeans. You’re having a hard time getting air in through your nose, trying not to choke. Your eyes water, lashes smearing with prickling tears.
Solider boy is looking at you with half-mooned eyes, his lips parted to mimic yours. It’s like he’s entranced with the way you gulp down each mouthful. His knees come to dig on each side of the cushion, encasing your thighs. His thumb slides down to caress at the expanse of your throat, feeling the way you swallow.
“Yeah, you like this don’t you.” He mumbles, lips curling up to sneer at you. You look up with such starry eyes, Ben has to bite his cheek to keep from moaning at the sight.
The bottle is nearly empty, you’re sure if you weren’t suped up than you’d need to get your stomach pumped. But you’re still not drunk, if anything you’re only slightly buzzed - which is more than you’d thought could happen.
When the last droplets hit your tongue, Ben drops the glass onto the yellowed carpet. He doesn’t stop for a beat, he doesn’t even ask if you’re okay. He just reaches for your face with big calloused palms and smashes his mouth onto yours.
You groan, feeling his teeth hit yours. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, tasting the smoky orange and spicy cinnamon. His scruff scratches your Cupid’s bow, tickling at your chin. When you open, he dives in. Lapping at the inside of your cheeks and against the roof of your mouth. He doesn’t care if it’s messy, he wants it to be. Spit swapping, tasting the hard liquor on your palate like it’s straight from the source.
He likes that you huff and whine when he nips your lip, running the tip of his tongue over your back molars, under and over and fucking everywhere. It makes you breathless, holding his biceps as he tilts your face to meet him. When he pulls away, webby silver strings connect the both of you. You look blissed out, lidded eyes and all.
Soldier boy laughs, “Goddamn, you kiss like a fucking pornstar.”
You twitch in his hands, still trying to inhale as much as you can. You’re unbelievably soaked, the warmth spreading throughout your tummy like embers on a fire.
He nudges you with his nose, “You drunk yet, or do I need to make you chug the other bottle?”
Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “No! No, I’m- I’m good.”
He gives a hearty grin, settling down farther on top of you. He’s weighty and heavy against you, warm with the alcohol he drank earlier. Ben nuzzles his cheek against yours, uncharacteristically gentle.
“Ya know I could just fuck you till you’re cockdrunk, might work better than having you choke on another Jack Daniels.”
He’s completely serious, you know he is. And it makes you squirm, flushing with the promise. You tuck a lip between your teeth, looking up at him through thick lashes.
You know you’ll regret it in the morning, when you’re sore and throughly fucked out. But that’s the fun part.
“Okay,” you hum, “give it your best shot.”
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ultrasofts · 1 year
Note
for a prompt: seb/lewis, person of your choice staging an intervention with lewis :) and whatever comes next ;)
i guess they won't be shorter after all... 1.5k words, somewhere between cracky and not. set around that goddamn dinner.
//
Daniel holds his tongue for months. He sees the posts, he hears the quotes, and he doesn’t say anything. He’s got a bit going on himself, after all. A seat for 2024 won’t materialise out of thin air. 
He’s already in Abu Dhabi when Lewis texts him on Monday. Daniel reads the message, puts his phone down, and puts his head in his hands. Maybe it’s time to say something.
Love the idea mate let’s make it happen, he texts back. 
*
Daniel bides his time through the genuinely excellent dinner. He annoys Lando as much as he possibly can without Lando outright throttling him, and flirts with Pierre until Yuki starts to frown at him. They’re easy company, and Daniel tries not to think about the fact that this might be his last dinner as one of them, too.
Throughout, his eyes stray down the other end of the table. Lewis spends most of the meal smiling at his plate or smiling at Sebastian. More than once Carlos tries to start a conversation and Lewis doesn’t even hear him. 
It’s definitely time to say something.
The opportunity comes in the lull after dinner. There’s dessert coming, although if Daniel knows F1 drivers, they’ll all take one bite and push it away. People start to move around, swapping seats, or standing to stretch their legs and forming little pockets around the room. Lewis ducks out, presumably for the bathroom, and Daniel gets up to position himself by the door.
“I just gotta,” he says, waving his phone at Lando in response to his questioning look. 
Lewis is easy enough to intercept when he slips back into the room.
“Great idea, this,” Daniel says.
“Least we could do, right?” Lewis says it like Daniel really had much to do with it except helping him corral anything. Daniel’s not the one who spent two hours on google trying to find a restaurant that would work for everyone. 
“Yeah,” Daniel agrees anyway. Lewis looks a little tired—don’t they all— but he soft light of the dining room gives him a glow. “Kind of offended you didn’t organise a dinner for me, though,” he adds.
Lewis shakes his head. He looks a touch embarrassed, but when he speaks he sounds earnest.
“Nah, you’ll be back, I’m sure of it,” he says. He reaches out and squeezes Daniel’s arm. “You deserve to be.” 
“You seem to reckon Seb will be too,” Daniel teases. 
“If Fernando came back, why not?” Lewis says stubbornly, but he’s smiling just at the thought. Jesus Christ. 
“I guess if your least favourite rival found his way back...” Daniel says, even though he suspects Fernando’s spot has been supplanted recently.
“Then my favourite could too?”
“Might be a bit tricky, but I’ll do my best.”
Lewis laughs, but there’s something pitying in the look he gives Daniel and, nope, that’s not what this conversation is about.
“Have you told him? That you don’t want him to leave, I mean,” he says, before Lewis can say anything else. It’s not the most graceful segue, and sure enough, Lewis frowns. His eyes flick to Seb, who’s taken Daniel’s vacated seat. He’s gesturing broadly as he explains something to Charles and Lando, looking particularly animated. 
“He knows,” Lewis says. “I say it every time someone asks me about him. Of course I’m going to miss him.”
Daniel can feel his eye twitch.
“But have you said it to him, not just about him?” It feels a bit like explaining something to his nephew.
Lewis drags his eyes back to Daniel. 
“Of course, I don’t know what you—”
“Do you remember Coachella?” 
Daniel’s probably giving Lewis conversational whiplash, but he’s running out of time and for some stupid reason, he’s so invested in this. 
“What do you—” Lewis starts out looking confused, then bites his lip. “Oh.”
Adorable. Daniel wants to pinch his goddamn cheek. 
It was more than three years ago now, even though it feels like both more and less time has passed since then. Hanging out with him and his friends, seeing Lewis much more relaxed than he ever had before, had felt like the kind of perfectly serendipitous good time you can’t construct if you try.
It’s always been clear Lewis knows how to have a good time, and Daniel wasn’t disappointed. Sometime late into the night, grabbing some downtime between parties, they’d wound up in a tent sharing a joint, and Lewis had rambled for twenty goddamn minutes about how pretty Sebastian Vettel’s eyes are. Lewis’s friend, the tall one, Miles, had caught Daniel’s eye and laughed.
“He gets like this,” he’d said, and Lewis had playfully punched him in the arm. He hadn’t shut up about Seb, though.
It had been enlightening, and Daniel’s always remembered it with fondness, and more than a little curiosity. 
“Don’t you just want to get it off your chest?” he asks. “Seize the day and all that shit. No risk, no reward?” He racks his brain for another cliche as a crease appears between Lewis’s eyebrows. 
“I don’t know how much more obvious I can be, without…” Lewis spreads his palms like he’s offering something up. “I don’t know how he can possibly not know,” he adds, quieter. “And he’s never been afraid to say what he thinks, has he. So he clearly doesn’t—” Lewis creaks off and looks around them, like he’s remembered they’re still surrounded by others. 
Daniel can recognise the signs of someone who’s turned something over and over in their head, rotating it every which way trying to get it to fit. There’s a fundamental piece missing though, without which he’s going to be stuck at this impasse forever. Daniel is happy to provide it.
“I wouldn’t assume he knows,” he says. Despite their time as teammates, and almost ten years on the grid together, Daniel feels like he’s gotten to know Seb better this year than any other. Sebastian has always been so private but all the times he’s reached out to Daniel to offer his support, he’s given away a little bit more of himself. “When Seb says he doesn’t really think he’ll be remembered, he kind of means it.” 
Lewis looks stricken. 
“But that’s about everyone else,” he says. “The paddock, and the media, and the fans. Not the people who really know him. Not—”
He stops, looking completely perplexed by the idea, and Daniel feels like the clouds are finally parting.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” he says, clapping Lewis on the shoulder. “Maybe just make sure.” 
*
By the end of the race on Sunday, Daniel mostly feels a sense of relief. P13 is about right, probably, and a tiny part of him is glad he never has to drive this fucking car again. He works through his press commitments, congratulates the podium finishers, and makes his way around the whole garage, thanking every single McLaren employee. 
He missed Seb in the press session, still no doubt caught up with his team, so he ducks into the Aston Martin garage to find him and give him one last hug. No one looks at him twice, too busy packing everything down, and Daniel winds his way through the corridors towards Sebastian’s driver's room. 
He rounds a bend and stops abruptly. Someone else beat him to Seb. 
They’re half tucked into a corner, but not remotely as hidden as they seem to think they are. Lewis has his hands in Sebastian’s shirt, tugging him into his own body like he’s afraid Seb will dissolve the second he lets go. They’re kissing, the kind of kiss that Daniel immediately feels embarrassed to be watching. He doesn’t look away, though, because he’s earned this satisfaction.  
There’s a cough from next to him. 
“Finally, they have stopped being stupid.” Fernando looks almost as tired as Daniel feels. He adjusts the cap on his head. “Well, not really. But at least they are being stupid in the same direction, no?” 
Daniel stares at him. If Fernando is here at the same time as him, and is just as unsurprised as him… well, the conclusion draws itself.
“What did you do?” It’s hard not to make it sound like an accusation. 
“Someone needed to say something.” Daniel’s not sure if he’s imagining it, but he thinks Fernando sounds defensive.  
“And that someone was you? And Lewis listened to you?”
“Lewis?” Fernando scoffs. “Of course not. I spoke to Sebastian after the press conference on Thursday.” 
That’s only slightly less baffling to Daniel, but before he can interrogate him any further, someone in a nearby room drops something with a crash and Daniel instinctively looks back at the pair previously lost in their own world. 
Sebastian has his eyes open now, and they land on Daniel and Fernando. He’s already flushed, but even from here Daniel can see that the colour deepens. He doesn’t move though, and lets Lewis press a kiss to his neck. Fernando makes a displeased sound, but Daniel gives him two thumbs up. 
Sebastian flips them both off, the ungrateful bastard.
“Drink?” Daniel asks, turning back to Fernando. 
“Yes,” Fernando says. “I need to forget I ever saw this.”
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movievillainess721 · 2 years
Text
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Cowboy Attire
Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x plus size f reader
Summary: Jack's cowboy attire always makes you want to go for a ride.
Warnings: Jack comes with his own warning. Spicy fluff, swearing and smut.
Taglist:@whiskeynwriting @axshadows @vanemando15 @wildemaven @littlemisspascal @fishingforpike @boliv-jenta @ikinmahlen @just-here-for-the-moment
********************************
You had never been so happy that it was Friday. The work week had been long, busy and truly tested your patience. It was rough to sit at work all day knowing that Jack stayed home today at the ranch to work in one of the fields. You wanted so badly to stay home with him and help out but you couldn't.
When you pulled up to the house you noticed one of the horses missing out in the corral. You took a deep sigh just knowing Jack was out in the fields riding his horse. Your brain instantly thought of your husband in his full cowboy attire. Hat, boots, rolled up sleeves, leather gloves....god you hoped he was in chaps. Chaps: the best piece of cowboy fashion invented. Christ...Jack's ass always looked amazing when he was in chaps. Your favorite part of Autum wasn't the changing of leaves on the ranch or Halloween nope it was the fact that it was getting chiller and Jack would have to break out his long black duster coat. Your mouth was starting to water. You really needed your husband...but you also wanted a shower. What if you waited till Jack came in for the evening...he would need a shower too. Then you could have both.
You huffed then headed up stairs to at least change clothes. Picking a comfortable t-shirt and a pair of jeans shorts...and barefooted. The country girl in you wished you could always be barefooted, shoes and socks were not your friends. You walked out into the kitchen and started to gather items to make for dinner. You figured Jack would want something hearty from being out working so hard...but you wanted it to be light enough so the two of you wouldn't be having sex on full stomachs. You decided to just go ahead and start cooking...honestly it wouldn't hurt if dinner got cold.
You had just finished setting the table when you heard the familer metal chink of Jack's spurs on the wooden back porch. Each chink chink with his footsteps was turning you on. You wiped your hands on your jeans shorts then tired to fix your hair as you hurried to the back door. Jack didn't even make it to the door before you flung open the door and leaned up against the door frame.
Your eyes looked up and down your husband's body. His hat was pulled down alittle over his face to help shield his eyes from the sun. His sleeves on his light blue button up shirt was rolled up to his elbows. His tight denim jeans....and you'll be damned....fucking leather chaps!! You were definitely drooling over this cowboy. Jack noticed as he snickered.
"Hi Darlin....I take it you missed me today." He said as he pushed his hat back so he could look at your face.
You smile sweetly then reply. "I did."
Jack nodded then took a step closer to you but you put your hand out to stop him. Jack took this that since his boots were dirty you didn't want him tracking mud in the house. He looked down at his boots then back up to your face.
"Oh Darlin, I'm sorry just let me take my boots off then I'll come inside." He told you.
You tilted your head then shook your head. You stepped directly in front of Jack, you looked him in the eyes then a wicked grin formed on your lips. You reached your hand out and gently began rubbing the crotch of his jeans.
"You see...there is this handsome cowboy who lives here....and everytime he puts on his spurs and chaps it makes me wet....do you know where I can find him....because I really need to ride his... pony." You asked in a seductive tone never once stopping your hands movements over his now semi hard cock.
Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned down to your lips, hovering over them but never touching.
"Everytime, you say? This handsome cowboy have a mustache?" Jack asks as he lightly pecks your lips.
"He does...infact I don't let him shave it because I love the way it feels against my pussy."
Jack groans. He loves when your sweet words turn to complete filth. He rolls his hips into your hand. You feel the tent and you press alittle harder indicating your becoming impatient.
"I really need to find him..." You whispered then slide your tongue over his bottom lip.
Jack immediately wrapped his arms around your waist and devoured your lips. You softly moaned into his mouth as you pulled him into the house throwing his hat on one of the kitchen countertops. You pulled him into the laundry slash mud room just to the right of the back door. You pulled away from Jack's lips to breathe but to also pull your t shirt over your head.
Jack growled . " Darlin....tell me whatcha need?"
You pushed Jack down onto the bench next to the laundry hampers. Still standing you desperately reached down for his belt buckle. The both of you frantically undid his belts, Jack lifted his hips so you could help him push his jeans,the chaps and boxer briefs down to the top of his boots.
You spit into your hand then reached down and stroked his cock. Jack moaned and you smirked. " I just need you, baby." You purred.
Jack placed his hand over yours and the both of you stroked him together. You let go and stepped back so you could take your shorts and panties off. Jack slide down on the bench to make enough room for you in his lap. You straddled his lap batting his hand away. You notched him at your entrance and then sunk down until he was fully inside you. You both let out a moan at how good the other felt. No matter how many times you had sex with Jack, the stretch that his cock made was still delicious and always left you satisfied and full.
Jack's hands slide from your thighs up yours sides to your back. Jack was after the clasp of your bra. You knew your cowboy was a boob man and he loved yours. He loved the size, the softest...he just loved them. He pulled each strap from your shoulder then threw your bra to the side. As you slowly rolled your hips you felt him take each one of your breats in his hands. He kneaded for a few moments just admiring them.
"Sugar....can I? You know how much this cowboys loves them." Jack begged.
You nodded then leaned back just alittle. Jack kissed each one respectfully before he smooshed his face against them. You heard his muffled moan as you rolled your hips again. Jack took one nipple into his mouth. His tongue licked and swirled. He pulled away and gave the same attention to the other.
"Jack...baby you feel so good." You praised. Jack kissed between your breasts then leaned his head back against the wall. He reached around and with both hands squeezed a big handful of your ass cheeks. You clenched around him with a moan. Jack let go of one of your cheeks then smacked your ass.
"Come on Sugar....let's go for a ride." He grunted then planted his feet and thrusted up into you as you came down. You gasped loudly and placed your hands on his shoulders. You grind harder and faster down on Jack. Jack wrapped his arms around you and soon the sound of moans and skin slapping skin filled the room.
"That's it Darlin....that's it. Fu....fuck." Jack said through gritted teeth then reached inbetween the two of you. His middle finger rubbing tight circles on your clit.
You moaned then gripped Jack's hair and gave a gentle tug. "I...I'm so close...Jack."
Jack added more pressure on your clit. His arm that was still wrapped around you pulled you closer so he could whisper the flithesty things into your ear.
" Soak this cowboy's big ol cock, Sugar.....pussy feels so good.....that's it.....let go."
Your head fell back with a loud moan of Jack's name. "Good....good fuckin girl." Jack gave three more hard thrusts then let a loud groan escape his lips and he sent rope after rope inside you. Both of you panting to catch your breaths. One of Jack's hand slide over shoulder, up your spine into your hair. You signed as you felt him soften inside you.
When your breaths became normal, you pulled away long enough to brush some of Jack's sweaty hair from his forehead. And you looked lovingly into his eyes. I smile speard across your face.
" Round two in the shower or you do want dinner?" You asked as you started to get up off Jack.
Jack smirked. "I'll take my dinner IN the shower, Darlin." Then he smacked your ass.
End
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