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#but it was due to an incompetent teacher
bootlegfrank · 11 days
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I'm still very angry at my college and their bullshit teachers so I've been spitefully staying in bed this morning and doing nothing but jacking off and honestly. Great way to spend your time.
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oneknightlight · 1 year
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You know how do teachers get away with so much like. Blatant bullying? I was just thinking about my middle school experience and realizing that if another student would’ve behaved towards me as the teachers did, they would’ve been called to the principals office and punished.
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my bioethics teacher "we are very cautious about assigning medical incompetence to people based purely on the stereotypes of a cognitive disability such as autism or being elderly. removing autonomy is of great harm to the patient."
ma'am i love you but who is "we" in this scenario, because i guarantee it's not the physicians.
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bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months
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the monster trio (but make it highschool!au);
basically, what if these mf weren't illiterate?? highschool!au headcanons for the monster trio!!
luffy:
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- the class comedian (and doesn't know it) - like this man is out here just going about his day, doing stupid shit. he doesn't know why the class is laughing when the teacher asks him what he's doing and he says "eating. want some?" through a mouthful of doritos and a shit-eating grin - everyday, atleast once, he gets sent to the principle (the principle is garp lmao) and garp sends luffy back to the teacher because even he doesn't wanna deal with this precious himbo
- he runs track (and he is actually so good at it) - he's that one kid that has adhd and the whole school knows but he doesnt "adhd? what's that?" "you, luffy, that's you" - his homework? never complete; his handwriting? so shit it feels like ants crawling on paper; his uniform? something has to be missing always whether it's a button on his shirt, tie, belt, something. - one time he pulled up with one sock missing and when asked, he shrugged and said "sometimes things happen" - why did he say it like that??? - somehow, despite it all, he manages to pass (nami tutored him forcefully and made him pay her later) - best friends with the martial artist!zoro and cooking prodigy!sanji - nobody knows how these three are friends??? but they are ig - also, i headcannon him as the guy who is like 4 feet and after one summer comes back stretched out (hehe, pun intended) - always so kind to others even if he doesn't know them, always willing to help freshmen out and run errands for you if you need help - nobody knew he is related to his older brothers (ace, sabo) "how are you their brother??" "idk? how am i??" - just the bestest boy ever, golden retriever energy all day every day no matter what universe it is
zoro:
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- you take one look at this mf and you think, ah here is the classic delinquent, stick-up-his-ass martial artist and you couldnt be more wrong - he is never dressed right but that's cause he doesn't know how to tie a tie and listen if he had the willpower to find the right socks at 7 in the morning, he will - he is just an incompetent fool, trust me 😭😭 - gets late on the regular cause he always takes the wrong turn - the one "jock" who isn't anything like a stereotypical jock? like he hangs out with soon-to-be valedictorian nami, idiot luffy, theatre kid!ussop and cook!sanji - nobody can understand how this friend group was formed??? - actually gets asked out a decent amount of times and always says "nah, im good" and walks away to his friends - people are starting to suspect if he's dating luffy from how hard their bromance is going "zolo!!! gooDMORNING!!" luffy yells as he launches onto zoro in the middle of the hallway at 8:03 am on a random tuesday zoro casually drops his backpack to catch luffy "morning" zoro replies as if it's casual behaviour - the amount of trophies the school has in his name is insane (nation level martial artist, roronoa zoro) - he is actually decent at school, he is just average and he's fine by it he doesn't give all that much of a shit in the academic sphere - casually pulls up to the parents-teacher meet with thE FUCKING WORLD REKNOWNED MARTIAL ARTIST, DRACULE MIHAWK??? "i see he passed in all his exams. how wonderful, zoro. let's leave now." "aight" - he doesn't even think twice when asked if he knows mihawk, he's just like "yeah that's my dad what about him?" - a certified dumbass in every universe
sanji:
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- listen to me this mf went to masterchef junior and fucking won and people only know this cause the school hyped him up and not because he wanted people to know "omg sanji did you actually win-" "no that was my twin brother sanjo, please leave me alone" - actually prim and properly dressed, shows up at time everyday and gives in all of his assignments and submissions well before the due date (he is partially responsible for keeping zoro and luffy on track) - he was the one making cupcakes when nami was organizing a fundraiser for a nearby orphanage, he was the one who baked cookies cause sabo wanted to hand them out on his last day of school, he was the one who baked cakes for his classmate's surprise birthday party - rumor has it if you get on good terms with sanji, a mysterious box of homemade chocolate will be there in your locker the next day - despite all the hype he has, mf still gets no girls - like luffy, he is insanely kind to those who need help - has gotten almost suspended once for beating up a senior year kid for bullying a freshmen (luffy and zoro just stood by and laughed as that kid got his ass handed to him) - he is the son of THE FUCKING OWNER OF BARATIE, A FIVE STAR MICHELLIN RESTAURANT THAT IS FREQUENTED BY CELEBRITIES ALL THE TIME "omg omg sanji is it true that the rock visited your restaurant last night?!" "yeah, his daughter wanted to eat my tiramisu, she's really sweet" - so chill always (but simultaneously losing his shit) - the kinda person you'd love hanging out with - as i said, in any universe, he is still single (feed him the rizz rizz fruit pls)
a/n: tried something new tell me do you like it or love it?
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qc-wiggles · 6 months
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they say write what you know and what i know is academic stress and yearbook pain. so anyways it's a yearbook club au!!!!
YEARBOOK CLUB MEMBERS:
supervising teachers: gertrude and leitner. they become uncontactable like a week into the project (do they die? do they resign? tim has a running theory that they eloped.)
elias: head of yearbook club. dips unexpectedly in the middle of the entire thing (something about an optical surgery) and forces jon to take over. his dad paid for the adobe subscription they’re using 
rosie: treasurer, she’s very efficient, they’ve probably exchanged like 3 emails in total and she’s gotten everything funded. knows well enough to stay out of the dumpster fire that is yearbook production otherwise
jon: de facto head of yearbook club. thinks it should have gone to sasha instead. hes a bit incompetent but plans like it’s doomsday the next week so they are always in a wealth of excel sheets. writer, editor
tim: joined partly because he wanted an excuse to get out of football fixtures. also because he is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked him. he has a tiktok. marketing, editor
sasha: joined partly to impress gertrude (she’s looking for her to write her letter of recommendation as head girl in sixth form). also because she is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked her. she still uses livejournal. designer, writer
gerry: sixth form, occasionally helps out with networking at gertrude’s behest. tim is a bit starstruck over him. he saves their asses many, many times
melanie and georgie: got unofficially roped in as photographers. why you ask? manuela dominguez may have the cutting edge cameras but she is simply too scary to approach. melanie has a youtube channel that all the girls and tim are apparently subscribed to. 
martin: there is not one single picture of him. apparently he didn’t turn up for photo day, neither was he involved in any school events. even the people who have shared half-remembered facts about him seem to forget about him when questioned a second time. where did he go?
PLOT:
it’s the month before the yearbook is due to be sent in for production, and the team have discovered numerous issues with the draft: pictures of random people keep getting swapped over like they’ve been photoshopped, some pages are illegible and distorted unless they are physically written out in hand and scanned, one paragraph is a leitner. and nobody can find martin blackwood so they can get his picture in the yearbook. what will they do.
SIDE CHARACTERS:
annabelle cane: current head girl
mikaele salesa: somehow knows literally everyone, involved in the funding of yearbook production
mike crew: uneasy alliance with gerry in their pursuit of jurgen leitner 
oliver banks: had a mental breakdown sometime during his gcses but hes fine now
david from research: nobody says it to his face but he has genuinely the most atrocious clothing choice in the entire school apart from michael shelley, and even then michael shelley makes work
grifter’s bone: the band of the school, except no one actually knows anyone who’s part of it. their shows are legendarily terrible. manuela says ambulances were phoned. 
daisy and basira: prefects, currently invested in making sure yearbook club remains LEGAL and not STALKING ANY STAFF OR STUDENTS, JON
jmag: principal. boo. what a creep
julia montauk: apparently her dad went to jail. but who is she living with now? i don’t know, manuela told me. how does manuela know? julia told her in a sleepover during year 6. and she’s telling other people? wow. that’s messed up. is that old guy her grandpa? why does he carry a rifle around
jared hopworth: prejudiced gymbro, but importantly, NOT a homophobe.
the admiral: what else needs to be said
FAMOUS ALUMNI:
agnes montague (campus celebrity from literally decades ago) (her relationship with jack barnabas is mythicised)
jude perry (allegedly caused some fire-related, agnes-related events)
edwin burroughs (allegedly commited atrocities during one year’s christmas dinner)
jane prentiss (left for uni a year ago, allegedly brought many live organisms onto campus) (keeps talking about this guy called jordan)
eric delano (he did WHAT to his eyes)
MISCELLANEOUS POINTS:
daedalus crew is astronomy club
breekon and hope are the manufacturers for much of the schools equipment and stationery
jon keeps finding notes from gertrude stashed in random places about yearbook difficulties its like a fun cool treasure hunt
they cant figure out where a computer they were initially using for yearbook club is from. it says ‘ushanka’ on the bottom of the display and the keys are slightly crusty
what the hell are the drama students actually up to 
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solarwonux · 6 months
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Business Proposal || knj (8/?)
pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au
Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love
Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited
Rating: mature, 18+
w.c: 7.0
Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”
A/n: I hope you enjoy, I will add all the extra links later. Please please please let me know your thoughts you have no idea how much it helps me. Enjoy!
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10 years ago.
You have circled around Dionysus Lake at least three times, in a failed attempt to calm your nerves. In all honesty you aren’t sure why you’re so nervous, it was a simple tutoring session with your friend's brother. Yet, the hammering in your heart and the pressure around your neck was impossible to ignore.
You know this has nothing to do with you finding him attractive. You can find someone attractive but not be attracted to them. Hence Jungkook. You know it has nothing to do with the fact that his meeting place of choice was the one cafe that was slightly out of the budget you set aside for iced coffees on the weekday.
What you do know is that it has everything to do with the fact that this is something new. A little hiccup in your perfectly curated daily routine. From now on every Tuesday and Thursday you will be meeting up with Kim Namjoon at seven o’clock at Serendipity Cafe. Who by some miracle will hopefully have you understanding the PEMDAS rules that you’re hundred percent sure we’re taught wrong to you. No more will be your days in which you stay at HYBE U’s seven floor library, cranking down on research or polishing essays after math class. No more will be your days that you decide that maybe it was time for some me time, and enjoy a nice long relaxing bath with different bath salts, bath bombs, and candles in an attempt to relax your racing thoughts and aching muscles.
No, now you have to squeeze in a half an hour walk after your algebra class to give yourself a breather. So, you don’t have to face your friend's brother all frazzled and annoyed that you have successfully sat through a math class without understanding a thing. Really, your nerves are really due to the fact that you don’t want to seem incompetent; but is it your fault that you’ve had incompetent math teachers or lack of math teachers throughout your academic year? It’s not your fault they couldn’t explain complex terms in a simple form. Or that they took advantage of the system to get close to younger children. You were cheated out of a decent understanding of math because the academic system simply worked against you.
It’s a thought you have been turning over and over in your head since you woke up this morning. You’ve been trying out every other excuse in the book.
“I’m sorry they had us do flawed computer programs in middle school instead of actually teaching us something.”
“You see I couldn’t really do my math homework growing up because I had ballet class at four until eight.”
“I’m actually really smart I just don’t understand how the fuck I have to apply an exponent when there’s a parenthesis involved.”
All of these excuses were dumb. A mask for the actual truth. Math was uninteresting, impalpable. It stayed constant and lacked excitement because you couldn’t see the puzzles laid out before you. That, and sometimes you sneakily read a book in the back of the class or whispered about the next big boy band with your equally as boy crazed friends Shalimar and Ruth.
Still, after your third wrap around Dionysus lake, you’ve decided that if questioned you’d just come clean.
“I’m stupid and I absolutely have no idea why we have to have letters and numbers mingle with each other.”
Hopefully he'll appreciate your honesty and grow a soft spot for you. At least that’s what you hope for. And you keep hoping for as you steadily approach the large wooden doors of Serendipity. There’s still about ten minutes until seven, but you figured you’d get there a bit early to grab a good seat. One in a section that’s quiet but not too quiet because the last thing you want while you sip on your peppermint tea is to be consumed by your overwhelming thoughts while you wait for your tutor.
You approach the counter, gripping the leather strap of your purse, going over your order in case you stumble upon your words due to pressure.
“Welcome to Serendipity whe—oh hey you’re Kookie’s girl.” The man behind the counter says in awe. While you cringe at the fact that you’re being referred to as Jungkook’s girl. You remember the doe eyed man referring to the man now wearing a button down with what seems to be condoms printed all over it as Hobi. Though his nametag states that his name is Hoseok. You try not to dwell on it for too long because he’s looking at you curiously. Probably wondering why you haven’t greeted him back or placed your order.
You shake your head, circling your moon shaped bag back to the front of your body, attempting to hide your discomfort. “Oh, hi, um, Jungkook’s just a friend.” You swallow, while he smiles in acknowledgement.
“I see, things are complicated. I get that.” He brushes you off before turning to the iPad in front of him. Before you can counteract with a ‘no it’s actually very simple, we share classes and he’s unfortunately picked me to annoy.’ He speaks up and gets right to the point. “What can I get you cutie?” He finishes, looking at you through his bangs.
The heat in your body erupts. No guy has ever been this forward with you but you’re positive this is just part of his customer service training. If he ever had one. Either way he’s talking you up and making you feel seen, which you assume is a specialty of his and probably why the cafe is crowded with many young adults.
With a grin you say. “Just a hot mint chocolate latte.” You nod in assurance before opening up your purse and taking out your wallet. When you fish your card out and go to swipe it across the reader a hand stops you. Startled, you look up to find Hobi or Hoseok smiling wide at you.
“No need, it’s already paid for.” He takes his hand away and gives you a white buzzer instead.
You furrow your brows in confusion. How has your drink already been paid for when you’ve just entered? You aren’t complaining, you did just save some money, but that small amount of happiness doesn’t mean that you aren’t confused.
The cashier seems to read your confusion and he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Namjoon paid for you earlier when he ordered his drink.”
“What?” You glance down at your phone to see the time. Did you get it wrong? The two of you agreed on seven, and you even confirmed it this morning through a quick text just to be sure. So, why does the analog clock on your phone read 6:55, and Namjoon has possibly already been waiting for you.
You curse under your breath and quickly put your wallet in your purse before turning around to look at the almost empty cafe. There’s only a couple of people occupying the circular tables. All of them fully immersed in their books or laptop screens. Namjoon is nowhere in sight. You look back at Hoseok—you’ve decided to refer to him as such since it’s what’s on his nametag—and he laughs at your confusion.
He lifts up a finger signaling up, “he’s on the second floor, got here about an hour ago.”
His statement doesn’t do anything but worsen the panic already coursing through your veins. Maybe you did misinterpret the time, still it wouldn’t make sense because wouldn’t he have texted you by now asking where you were?
“Um thank you…”
“Call me Hobi.” He waves a hand in front of your face. “Any friend or special friend of the boys gets the privilege to call me Hobi. Plus Hoseok—” He points to his nametag with a boney finger. “Sounds too serious.” He shrugs.
You nod your head. “Thank you Hobi.” You rush out the acknowledgement and turn around and speed walk to the industrial style spiral staircase.
It’s a dizzying journey up, but once you make it to the final step you spot the man that has your nerves at an all time high. He’s sitting in the far corner next to a floor to ceiling window. His back is hunched as he types away on his laptop. Today he’s ditched the beanie and you can see his dark brown hair. A few strands of his bangs sneak their way behind the thick rims of his black glasses. He’s wearing a simple gray long sleeve, with black sweatpants. He looks relaxed, the opposite of what you’re feeling because the thing you hate most in the world is keeping people waiting.
With quick steps you approach the table, halting when you get to the front of a chair. “I’m sorry, I thought we agreed on seven.” You rush out instead of a proper greeting. In a quick motion he lifts his head and takes off the earbuds inside his ears, and you feel like more of an idiot than before because of course he would be wearing noise canceling earbuds.
“Hey, you’re here. Did you order something? I told Hobi that I would just pay for what you wanted.” He grins and stands up, extending his hand for you in a handshake.
You put your hand in his and feel a shiver run down your spine when his cold one meets your clammy one. “Am I late?” You tilt your head to the side.
Namjoon shakes his head, and lets go of your hand before sitting down again. “No, you’re right on time. I just got here a bit early to get a head start on an essay due by the end of the week.” He reassures you, and finally you can let out the breath you had been holding in.
You feel calmer now. Relieved. You set down your stuff on an empty chair and take the seat directly in front of him. You place your white buzzer in front of you, tracing the circular ridges. Now, that you’re not in such a panicked state you can finally show your gratitude to his selfless actions. “Thank you for the drink, you didn’t have to pay for it.”
The busy man smiles and waves his hand in front of his face to brush you off. “It’s no big deal, Hobi gives me discounts anyway.”
“So, I’ve heard.” You whisper recalling the first night you met him a week ago. Since then, Jungkook snuck his brother’s phone number to you the next day at the library. He didn’t say anything, he just passed by you with a green drink from the only smoothie place on campus and a sticky note saying:
Text Namjoon, he’s forgetful. -JK
It took the whole day to muster up the courage but finally you sent a simple text regarding your name and the fact that his younger brother had been the one to sneak you his number. In case, he assumed you had gone through multiple deep dives on the internet to retrieve it. Thankfully, Namjoon didn’t question it and just replied with a simple greeting. Then the two of you got into a brief conversation that lasted about two days because you’re also forgetful and forgot to reply to his messages. Basically coordinating a plan further than the one you had discussed the first time you met.
It was strictly business. Yet, a part of you felt a little happy that you were meeting and talking to somebody new.
Just as you’re about to take out your small notebook and pen from your purse your buzzer comes to life, filling the spaces of silence in the air surrounding the two of you. Namjoon’s eyes tear away from his computer screen, and you’re about to stand up when he beats you to it. He quickly grabs a hold of the noisy device saying, “Don’t worry I got it,” and he disappears down the stairs.
You’re now sitting by yourself, wallowing in your over consuming thoughts. Most of them involve the story Jungkook told you about his very eventful weekend while the two of you were walking to your math lecture earlier today. Truly, it was so odd knowing that he had run into Taehyung at a club in the rich part of town. The two of them stayed together the entire night and even brought home two girls to Taehyung’s apartment. Thankfully, he didn’t share further than that, but he did share that he was in love. In which you rolled your eyes so hard it gave you vertigo.
In the few months that you have known the man. He has claimed that he has been in love with every single girl he’s slept with. Which surprisingly, given his flirty nature was not a lot. What was surprising to you was Taehyung being at the club. It’s not out of character for him, but Saturday nights were always spent at Jimin’s one bedroom apartment catching up on life, and binge watching One Piece. When his text message came through on Saturday evening saying that he wasn’t feeling very well and skipping out. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad because you hadn’t seen him in a while.
Taehyung was always out and about, chasing every new adventure he could grasp. He called it inspiration for his art, but you always knew there was another underlying reason. One he never cared to explain because in all honesty it only made sense to him. He was a tough book to get through. Sometimes it keeps you questioning why you even have a soft spot for it. Though, you suppose it is the backstory the two of you share. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt knowing he had chosen to not ditch you but Jimin as well.
The night wasn’t a bust and you managed to finally make a significant breakthrough on the anime. Twenty episodes in one night was something that needed to be awarded. It did feel a bit awkward when it was just the two of you. It was as if there was an invisible ceiling slowly crushing you, because on Saturday for the first time ever the two of you found yourself stuck. Nothing to talk about. No updates on life, only the sound of the anime doing its best to fill the void of Taehyung not being there that the both of you unspokenly felt.
It made you question a lot of things. Like was it maybe time to finally part ways? A chilling thought that sent shivers down your spine and one you pushed so far into the back of your head. One you really don’t want to think about now, especially when you’re about to succumb yourself to a full extra hour of torture. Otherwise known as: College Algebra.
“Hobi says that if you take a picture of his latte art to tag him if you post it.” Namjoon voices, placing a small tray in front of your open notebook. A white mug with a beautiful Jack O'Lantern drawn in white foam decorates the top of your warm decaffeinated latte. It’s impressive, surely puts all those swans and hearts to shame.
“He’s a big fan of Halloween, and he always says that fall time means it's Halloween everyday.” Namjoon finishes with a chuckle, as he takes the seat in front of you again.
You laugh a little, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your jean jacket. “I can get behind that.” You say as you click on the camera app and snap a couple of pictures.
Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon is watching as you rearrange the contents on the table. To get the right aesthetic for your perfect picture. He can’t lie, it's a little endearing, seeing somebody so excited over latte art he has grown accustomed to seeing. It’s something he will definitely spill onto Hoseok before he leaves. His friend was crazy talented in many areas and he hates that instead of sharing all his passions out with the world. He’s stuck running Serendipity because his grandfather wanted the neighborhood's hub to stay in the Jung family. When he should be out in the world sharing his clothing designs with anyone who’s willing to listen.
Namjoon’s thoughts are interrupted by your extended hand, holding out your phone for him. “What’s his instagram?” You grin, and his eyes make their way to the small phone screen. A beautifully taken picture, showing off the spooky pumpkin with a caption reading,
Halloween should be all year round @--
Namjoon lets out an ‘ah’ before taking your phone and quickly typing out his friend's handle. He reads the caption again, double checking to see if he made any mistakes, Halloween should be all year round @uramyhope.
He nods in approval and hands you back your phone. Deep down he feels a surge of something foreign. He can’t necessarily put his finger on it but regarding Hoseok’s statement when he first met you last week, when he asked both his brother and him for your number. He feels a little strange, knowing that he’s basically given the two of you a way to start communicating outside of him and Jungkook. Knowing the aspiring designer, he won’t miss a beat, and that makes him feel a bit odd.
He shrugs it off though, pushes away the churning in his stomach, concluding that it was because he chose to consume caffeine so late in the evening. He looks back at his computer screen, while you type away on your phone. He continues to ignore it, saves the document on his computer two times before closing the lid. He pushes it aside, and clears his throat, catching your attention.
Quickly you lock your phone and stuff it into the pocket of your jacket. You look over at Namjoon, his hands clasped in front of him and a scowl prominent on his face. It resembled the same one he transformed into the first night you met him. When he coldly stated he was done with blind dating thanks to his mother and step brother. Though, this time it does feel less intense, probably due to the fact that he knows you’re just here to be his tutee and not his future wife.
Still, it lets you know that time was ticking and it was finally time to get down to business.
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“How have you gone on this long without understanding the basic principles of algebra?”
Namjoon is serious. He means business and you’re about to pull out the hair from your scalp.
“Maybe because I never had a permanent math teacher, they’d all leave in the middle of the year.” You pout, crossing your arms in front of you and slumping down in your seat.
He lets out a sigh before sliding your notebook to his side of the table. The metal spiral scratching against the wooden surface, letting out an unpleasant noise making you cringe.
“That’s a good excuse.” He says, grabbing his red pen and making all sorts of marks along the paper. You don’t need to know what steps you got wrong while solving the math problem. You know exactly where you went wrong. It was the second you signed up for the class even if you didn’t have much of a choice.
You groan, throwing your head back. “It’s not an excuse. My eighth grade teacher left in the middle of the year because she got pregnant, my ninth grade teacher unfortunately was diagnosed with cancer. Then my tenth grade teacher was accused of being a pedophile so he was fired an—“
“Okay,” Namjoon cuts you off, setting down his pen on top of your notebook. “I understand, your school was just shitty at keeping teachers around.” He grins, placing the notebook in front of you again. “But did you ever do your math homework?” He tilts his head to the side in curiosity.
Unfortunately you’ve been caught. “No,” you whisper, dragging your fingernail down the spiral.
The sound he lets out tells you enough. He’s proven his point with the sarcastic hum that escapes his mouth. “In my defense I had dance practice everyday after school from two to four and the ballet from five to eight.” You add but it does little to prove your innocence. Instead, it makes you look guiltier or maybe not you but your parents because who would choose an extracurricular activity over academics. Especially when they knew their daughter was absolute shit at math. They did try though, but even the math tutor they hired back in high school could not get through to you.
“I see,” he puts a pensive hand on his chin leaning back. The look he gives you makes you feel small. You can’t tell if he’s judging your upbringing or the you now who can’t seem to understand the simple PEMDAS rules.
“Your problem isn’t even that bad. It’s easy to fix. You know what each operation does. You just get confused with the order along the way.” He leans forward, picking up the pen and pointing to the problem you just finished doing. “You know to do parenthesis first, but then you forget that parenthesis don’t really go away. That’s your first mistake.”
It’s like a lightbulb has suddenly flicked on inside your head as you watch him solve the problem while thoroughly explaining each step. Writing out every single step even if it was unnecessary, but it helps.
“So the answer should be seventeen and not twenty-two.” He finishes, and the puzzle slowly starts to connect itself before your eyes. The steps are laid out perfectly and neatly. The parenthesis stay until the equation is factored to the lowest it can go. And you’re about to jump across the table to give the man before you the biggest hug. He’s the only one who's been able to point out what you’ve done wrong your whole life and then explain it easily.
You lift your head up, wide eyed and say “oh, that makes sense.”
Namjoon laughs, almost as if he’s relieved but also disbelieved. You start to feel bad because for the past hour he’s been trying to explain to you the basic principles in every way possible. And it was only until he explained it to you in baby terms that you finally understood. You’re about to apologize, but instead you’re left stunned by his next words.
“I’m giving you homework for the next time we see each other on Thursday.” He hums, flipping to the next page. Your eye twitches a little at the thought of math homework. If you never did it while you were in school and getting graded for it, why would you do it now?
“Homework?”
He hums, and begins to write down a bunch of different math problems. He can sense that you’re about to fill him with different complaints, so he speaks up. “Do you want to pass math class?
“Yes, but do you really need to give me homework?”
“How many hours were you in dance class growing up?”
“I don’t remember like five hours, but what does that have to do with you giving me math homework.”
“What were you doing for five hours?” He lifts his head, handing you your notebook. You take it looking down at the ten perfectly curated algebra problems.
You want to throw up.
“Practicing.”
“Exactly, and how are you going to pass math?”
You huff, seeing exactly where his question was heading. Proving a point or whatever. Jungkook did mention his brother was a bit of a smart ass. Now you’re unfortunate enough to be at the receiving end.
With a grunt you close your notebook. “Fine, I'll do the homework.”
Namjoon smirks, tapping his ear, leaning in further into the table. “No, I want to hear you say it please.”
You stuff your small spiral notebook into your purse, snatching your special pink mechanical pencil from his side of the table. You spent too much money on it to let—your stupid math tutor who is now giving you homework to make you suffer—steal it.
“I need to practice math.” You mumble, zipping up your bag, and putting it over your shoulder.
Namjoon laughs, letting his red pen fall against the wooden table with a clank. You roll your eyes before standing up. At least your suffering was amusing to someone.
You cross your arms in front you waiting for his laughter to die down. When it does he looks at you, watery eyes from joy and you feel a slight tug in the inside of your chest. You push it to the side, convince yourself that it’s just the irritation bubbling up inside of you.
“Are you done?”
He nods, shuffles around the table to put his stuff away. “How are you getting home?” He questions, standing up and hoisting his vintage messenger bag over his shoulder.
You shrug, “the bus.” You state, pulling up your phone to check the bus schedule. If you can catch the next bus that comes in ten minutes then you’ll still be able to get home with a couple of seconds left of daylight.
“I’ll go with you then.” He states firmly, standing up abruptly and walking past you. It leaves you no room to argue against him.
You’re quickly starting to realize that once he says something firmly enough to be believed as the truth. There is absolutely no room left for a final say.
And they call you stubborn…as if.
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The bus arrived a minute late. A minute that felt longer than what it should’ve felt. The two of you were the only ones standing side by side under the dim light of the bus stop.
It’s one thing to be in the same room as your tutor while the only thing the two of you talk about is math. It’s another thing to have him offer to walk you home. There’s no conversation. There’s no way to start a conversation. The only thing you really know about him is that he’s still studying, he is Jungkook’s step brother and he’s a philosophy major. The only philosophers you knew off were the ones from Ancient Greece. All the readings for your Introduction to Modern Rhetorics course that you were assigned to do were somewhere buried in the back of your mind.
You don’t want to start up a conversation in which you know you won’t be able to keep up. You remember very little about the readings and somehow the things you do remember blend into one another. So you can’t differentiate between what one philosopher said and what the other said.
Instead, Namjoon and you walk in silence. At a safe distance but close enough to still feel the presence of the other. Then you stand in the bus stop. Neither of you sit on the cold metal bench because it’s still not cold enough for them to turn on the bench warmers. And when you see that the bus is a minute late, you start to feel the slightly awkward air around the two of you get thicker.
You’re about to bite the bullet, take the embarrassing moment for some sort of small talk when the bright blue bus turns the corner. You watch it approach the stop fast. At least that’s what it feels like and soon enough the driver opens the double doors to welcome the two of you.
Surprisingly it’s not full. There are a few people occupying the seats, but there’s enough room to not feel like you’re being squished upon one another. Namjoon lets you enter first. Once you click your transit card against the reader you scan the rows for an empty seat. And of course, there’s two left in the far back. You walk to it quickly. Pass the exhausted bystanders and take the seat against the window.
After all, you will be here for the next twenty five minutes. Though, it’s not only occurred to you that you don’t know where Namjoon lives, until he takes up the seat next to yours. You want to ask if he’s going out of his way or if his place is along this route. But you don’t want to pry too much. You’ve only just met him officially. You also don’t know what you would do with yourself if it does turn out that his place is out of the way. Probably, apologize profusely for being such an inconvenience.
To save yourself from the discomfort you sights upon the buildings outside the window. Your daydreaming only lasts a few seconds when you feel a light tap against your shoulder. In a quick motion you turn your head to face the man sitting next to you. You tilt your head in question and he opens his mouth to speak.
“What’s the deal with you and Jungkook?”
The question feels like you’ve been hit by whiplash. It’s not the first time you get asked about it. Your longtime friend Jina has brought it up a few times, but you always reply with the same exact answer. “I guess we’re friends.” You shrug.
Namjoon hums in acknowledgment, nodding his head. He looks ahead for a few minutes before looking back at you. “Are you sure?”
Now, this question takes you aback. Nobody’s ever questioned your honesty. At least until now.
You quirk a brow and nod. “Yes, we share a few classes and sometimes we study together. But it always feels like I’m there to study and he’s just there to talk because he never shuts up.” You rant.
“Ah,” he chuckles, moving his head in confirmation. “That sounds like him, when he was younger he never talked, but then he turned fifteen got a little confident because he found out a few people found him cute and he just never stopped talking then.” Namjoon reveals, making you smile. “He also talks in his sleep.” He adds, smiling when he hears you let out a giggle.
Suddenly, it doesn’t feel as awkward as before. It feels a bit simpler. And you find yourself leaning into his aura a little more.
“I think he likes you though.” He adds, making your eyes grow wide in surprise. Maybe you’re dumb or you just don’t understand flirting thanks to the two very unserious relationships you had between the transition of high school and college. But from what you do know is that Jungkook holds no romantic feelings or a liking towards you. That’s something you’re very confident in.
“I don’t think so.” You scoff. “He would be stupid if he did.” You wave him off, and look out the window. You catch his reflection in the glass. He’s looking down at you, smiling in amusement. It somehow makes your cheeks get a bit hot and you divert your gaze down to the metal border of the window.
“He sat me down on our couch last night and laid down some ground rules.” He speaks up, looking ahead again. He lifts his hand and starts, “I’m not allowed to let you out of my sight, I have to be nice to you, and Hobi is not allowed under any circumstances get your number, which somehow I failed at doing.” He shrugs and counts with his fingers as if that proves his statement.
You stare at his hand before looking up at him again, you’re at a loss for words. Your thoughts are all jumbled up. Somehow you know tonight you won’t be able to sleep. You will now be questioning every single interaction you’ve had with Jungkook in the past few months.
Clearing your throat you say, “that doesn’t mean he like…has feelings for me.”
He lifts his hands up in defense. Your tone is harsh and he finds it amusing. He continues, “don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just relaying information on something I’ve observed.”
You finally turn to look at him. Your eyebrows are drawn together in a scowl. “No offense but your observation is stupid.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting like a child. It makes Namjoon laugh loud enough to turn heads, causing you to look at him alarmed. It only makes him laugh harder and when you’re about to reprimand him, the automatic voice sounds in the speakers of the bus. It announces your stop and you scramble quickly to press the bright red button to stop the bus.
This shuts Namjoon up, he looks around, biting the inside of his cheek before nodding his head in confirmation. “This is your stop,” he voices just as the bus comes to a halt.
You nod, taking out your bus card from your purse and standing up. He copies your movements, makes his way to the card scanner and places his card against it. He doesn’t wait for you to exit he simply does and stands outside on the sidewalk, hands in his pocket. You scan your card and take the leap of faith from the bus stairs to the sidewalk. You land next to him, thanking your lucky stars for catching you and finally you voice out the question that’s been dying in the back of your throat.
“This is not your stop is it?”
“It’s not but, I promised Jungkook you would get home safely.” With that he turns on his heels and escapes the light of the stop, appearing again a few feet ahead underneath the street light. “Are you coming?”
“Do you do everything Jungkook says?” You grumble. The argument in which you state that you’re a big girl who is more than capable of walking home by herself escapes you. Only because when you’re finally standing in front of him. His head towering just a few inches above yours, it finally hits you. The jolt that springs in the pit of your stomach. The tug inside your heart that will have you up all night because it feels like a terrible case of heartburn. And the seed, his soft gaze plants inside of your mind.
It’s a mistake, a big one and you’re now regretting taking up Jungkook’s offer to have his brother tutor you. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen at all. The slow cascade down the wall you’ve built surrounding your emotions. You can feel it crumble already, ready to run down a dead end street, because that’s what it feels like. Whatever you’re feeling inside.
“I don’t.” The soft timbre of his voice brings out, you’re thankful it helps you find your way back down to the ground, but you’re not a fan of the way it paints goosebumps across your arms.
He continues, “I don’t want him to lecture me for not looking out after his friend.” He emphasizes the last part, combining it with a wink. You know what he is implying and you can’t help but feel a bit of the drink you had an hour ago threatening to make its way up your throat.
“You’re not going to give up are you?” You walk past him. It’s best to have him a few feet behind than right next to you. The space gives you time to regain yourself, yet it doesn’t last because in seconds he’s right next to you. His arm is so close. It almost brushes against yours. Thankfully it doesn’t but you can smell his cologne. It’s soft, and warm. Like fresh laundry on a sunday morning. It makes your insides burn and you know that from now on you will be looking for that scent everywhere so you can call it yours.
Namjoon shakes his head. “I’ve never seen him this protective over someone apart from his mom.” He whispers now, and the lower his voice gets the lower it sinks inside of you. “You must be special to him.” He concludes.
“I think I’m just the first girl who's never kissed his toes and finds him annoying.” You halt in front of a street light, and he stops with you. The little man signals red—do not go. You turn your head from side to side questioning your safety. If you run now, you will likely still be alive but most importantly away from the man next to you. Honestly, you’re a bit confused. When he was talking about algebra the only thing you could focus on was how to get from point a to point b while solving the problem.
Now that the moon is dim and the streets are emptying out. The only thing you can think about is how soft and ethereal he looks. Nothing like how when you first met him, but something straight out of a modernized fairy tale. It’s hitting you unexpectedly and you begin to wonder if it’s because your exhaustion is finally settling in, making you delusional.
“That could be true, but I think that you’re here to stay for a long time.” He chuckles. The little man switches to green and he takes the step.
“Why do you say that?” You walk fast to catch up to him. You realize that he is blindly following you and you to him. Sure, you’re almost home, but he’s leading the way as if he knows where he’s going. As if he’s done this before with you and has been doing this with you his entire life. It doesn’t do anything to calm your beating heart.
He stays quiet. He keeps on walking, stealing secret glances your way to see if he’s still at the same pace as you. It stays this way until you stop in front of a cute town house. The door is decorated with an autumn reef. The worlds ‘welcome fall,’ take up the entire circumference. There’s a red bell on the handle, to signal when someone is home since the doorbell has been broken ever since you could remember.
You’re home. But for some reason it had already felt like you were home.
“If it’s not Kook then it’s Hobi. Plus I need to make sure you pass math.” He voices.
You look at him, tilting your head in confusion. Until your mouth widens in a silent ‘oh’ recalling the question he had failed to answer a minute ago.
“I think your brain has been corrupted by reading into things while you do your research.”
He chuckles, “again don’t shoot the messenger, it’s not surprising though.” He shrugs, “My brother never shuts up about you, and Hobi hasn’t stopped asking for your contact information since you first walked into Serendipity a week ago.”
You roll your eyes, turning away from him and pressing your palm against the keypad of your house. It lights up, showing numbers and you quickly enter the code, wait for the little lock to signal it has been unlocked and you turn the knob.
Before you walk in you turn to face him again. “I won’t argue with you against the whole Hobi thing. But I know Jungkook doesn’t have feelings for me. If he did he wouldn’t tell me about all the dates he’s gone on and ask for advice whenever he has relationship or situationship problems. Plus he says he’s in love with someone he met this weekend.” You reason.
Namjoon takes his hands out of his pockets, raising his hands in defeat again. “Fine I’ll drop it, but I do think he finds you special. That’s all.” He states firmly and once again you’re reminded of that tone. He’s gotten the last word and you won’t bring up another one because if not then you’d be walking a tight circle around each other.
“Agree to disagree.” You smile, taking one step inside your house. “I’ll take your word for now. Thank you for walking me home. You didn’t have to even if Jungkook asked you to.”
He buries his hands into his pockets and grins. “I also wanted to.” He takes one step back. “Good night, I’ll see you on Thursday.” And with that he turns around, starts his way down the same path that led the two of you here.
Home.
You’re left astounded. In a rush to feel comfort once again, you hurry through the door, slamming it behind you, pressing your back against it. For a moment you’re scared your parents might find you in this state, wallowing in feelings you can’t begin to understand. Then you remember that they were at dinner with their friends, and you’re thankful that you still have some time to regain yourself.
Namjoon’s words cut deep. Not what he said about Jungkook. You know as well as you know your name that romantic feelings between the two of you are nonexistent. But you also know that he said he wanted to walk you home.
Chivalry might not be dead but the bar is low, because he wanted…he wanted…he wanted to wa—
Beep.
Your phone goes off signaling a message. With all the ditzyness a girl with a school girl crush can have. You fish out your phone with a haste, what if it’s him.
Though, that thought dies as quickly as it was conjured. It’s not him, but it’s a notification that in the same right births a little flame inside of you. Maybe not as bright as the one Namjoon left behind, but it has the potential to grow into something more.
uarmyhope wants to send you a message.
Your smile gets wide when you swipe across the notification. It opens up to your Instagram and it quickly directs you to your DMS.
You open it, and you feel a spark when you read the few choice words that were chosen. They’re simple but they’re enough. And they’re the start of a long night of getting to know someone else.
Your next latte is on me cutie.xx
182 notes · View notes
metalnecklace · 9 months
Text
Stubborn When It Comes To This
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Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)
Words: 9075 (this really got away from me)
Warnings: Smut (mdni), Plus size reader, Use of (Y/N), Probably some historical inaccuracies, Mentions of canon character death, Language, Oral (both f and m receiving), Fingering, Light choking, Spitting, Creampie, Unsafe sex (wrap it up, folks), Praise, Consent is sexy!, Pet names
Notes: This was supposed to be a super quick thing, I have no idea what happened
Summary: Javier Peña is frustrating, until he isn’t.
Masterlist
Arrogant.
If I could pick any word to describe Javier Peña that’s the one I’d use. Arrogant. Or maybe asshole. Bastard. Piece of shit.
Maybe I was getting ahead of myself.
I had been working with the DEA for about two years as a secretary, and usually didn’t have much issue. Luckily most of the men left me alone due to my larger frame, but not even that stopped the infuriating Agent Peña from being a thorn in my side. My entire time was spent blocking him from documents he wanted, no matter how hard he shamelessly flirted with me for the first few months before he gave up the charade. I knew it wasn’t sincere, and I knew I’d be the one getting in trouble if I let him have what he wanted.
So I said the one word he hated the most: No.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he sighed, exasperated. “Just give me what I want. Do you understand what’s at stake here?”
“Yeah, my job,” I grumbled, “and my sanity. Javier, we can't keep doing this.”
“You’re right, we can’t. So give me those files.”
I looked up at him, putting down the pen I had been writing with. “I can’t give you those files. I barely have access to them, so what makes you think you can?”
He chewed his lip, staring at me while I refused to budge. “Fine. But if Escobar gets away again I’ll know who to blame.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m to blame for your incompetence.”
He narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenching so hard his lips were in a pout. I thought for a moment he looked almost adorable, but shook the thought from my head the second it entered.
“You know what? That’s fine. You sit here like a good girl behind your desk and frilly little blouse, while I put my ass on the line so you can live safely.” He stood up to his full height, looking down his nose at me. I had never felt smaller, but couldn’t avert my gaze. “Can I have the files, yes or no?”
“Fuck you, Javi.” I gritted out between my teeth.
He grumbled something under his breath that sounded like mierda, then turned on his heel and marched away.
I grabbed a scrap piece of paper from my desk and spent the next fifteen minutes scribbling on it with my pen until it ripped through the surface. It was upsetting, the way he got under my skin like no other. I had never dealt with anybody like Javier Peña.
It had been a lot tougher to deal with him since Carillo’s passing. He no longer danced around the subject as much, and got straight to the point. Or demands, I should say. His patience was thinner and it seemed as though it was getting harder for him to keep his temper at bay.
I felt bad about my comment. He had never spoken to me the way he had, even when I had frustrated him so much in the past. But I knew he was still feeling the weight of Carillo’s death. It was no secret Javi blamed himself.
I had just gotten so sick of his attitude, I couldn’t stop the words from slipping out. Of course he had called me a good girl too. I was always dressed like a school teacher instead of the usual classy outfits the secretaries had. They always looked so poised, perfect, and sexy, whereas I always felt a bit frumpy when I tried to show off a bit more of my body. So I stuck to the knee length pencil skirts with flowy, frilly blouses tucked in and buttoned all the way up.
Perhaps what bothered me most was that he was doing the one thing that most of the women in that office were accused of. Everybody knew he slept around, either with informants or the other women in the office that allowed his company. When he wasn’t partaking in those options he could be found at the whorehouse or the bar. He did everything to get what he needed, who he needed. But the second any of the women indulged in the same they were shamed by the men around them.
On my very first day I could see Javier Peña coming from a mile away. The way his jeans wrapped around his legs and ass like they were made just for his shape, and the glisten of his skin shining underneath the top three undone buttons of his shirt. The pout of his lips, the warmth of his eyes. I could feel myself drooling just watching the way he sauntered down the hall to my desk. His fingers stretched out over the paperwork on my desk in front of me as he leaned in like we were sharing a secret. The pout on his lips slipped into a smile that made me glad I was already sitting down. That smile disappeared once he realized I wasn’t going to be giving him what he wanted.
He tried the sweet approach for months, but I never budged. It frustrated him, that was apparent, but I couldn’t afford to get in trouble because of him. I had been transferred to Colombia because I was well trusted in my position at home, and didn’t need to jeopardize that reputation because of some pretty boy.
Even though he was very, very pretty.
I didn’t see him for two weeks after my comment about his incompetence. It was strange enough for me to notice, since I usually saw him every few days if not every day. I hadn’t even seen him around the office, which meant he was either away or avoiding me. I figured it was the former since I doubted I was even a speck on his radar. Sure we pissed each other off, and I usually went home imagining what it would be like to go home to him, but to him I was just a pain in the ass secretary who stood in his way.
Eventually news traveled down the pipeline that Javi had been caught up in Los Pepes, which was a complete shock to me. I never suspected he would do something like that, but I assumed that just showed I didn’t know him well enough at all.
Without his presence the office seemed duller. I found I was just moving through the days, not realizing how much I had looked forward to our little arguments before.
When Murphy announced that they got Escobar, the first person I thought of was Javi. The man who had spent all that time, all those years, just to be sent home in the final hour. My heart ached for him, but I was mostly just glad the fight was over.
The fight with Escobar, anyway.
It wasn’t long before we were assigned to the Cali Cartel case. Some of the secretaries were leaving, but a select few got to be reassigned. I wasn’t sure where I was going to be assigned, but was told that I had specifically been requested.
Imagine my surprise to find I had been requested by Javier Peña himself.
I walked into his office, expecting to find a new agent, but found those eyes pinning me in place.
“Javi?” My mouth was gaped open, and I’m sure my eyebrows were raised comically high on my forehead.
“(Y/N),” he greeted me as though it was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re early.”
“You’re the one who requested me?” I asked, still shocked. “Why are you even here? I thought you got sent home.”
He chuckled and resumed looking down at the files on his desk. “I was, then they called me back. Turns out they need someone willing to do what it takes. As for you, yes, I requested you. Turns out you’re willing to do the same.”
He looked back up and met my eyes, his lips were quirked into a slight smile.
“I figured if you could keep me away from those files that long then I’d need someone like you guarding me.”
“Guarding you?” I was so confused.
“Yes.” He stood up and walked around his desk so he was standing in front of me. Whenever I had spoken to him in the past I had been sitting at my desk with him hovering over me. This time we were face to face, and although he was still taller than me it felt nice to at least be closer to eye level. “I need somebody to make sure I’m not bothered throughout the day. I have way more responsibility and people depending on me than before, and I can’t have people thinking they can interrupt me whenever they think their bullshit is more important than mine.”
I nodded, chewing on my lip. My heart stuttered as I watched his eyes flick to my movements before moving back up my face.
“That’s funny,” I finally said, “considering it was you who used to think their bullshit was the most important.”
His smile grew into a smirk. “Exactly. Which is how I know you’ll be perfect.”
My face heated at his praise, but I turned away before he could notice. “Great. I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”
I was stationed just outside his office door, and did my best to keep people out unless he told me otherwise. Although I was slightly annoyed to not only be working with him yet again, but to be working for him, there was a strong part of me that wanted to do my best. I wanted to do well for him.
To be good for him.
Javi was right, though, he did have more riding on his shoulders. There were times where he worked throughout the night, and I would walk in the next morning to find him in the same spot as he was the evening before with the same clothes. Other times he was gone for a few days, or even weeks.
I was usually quite swamped with whatever he needed me to do, but even though I worked for him I felt like I never saw him. Javi’s voice over the phone became a comfort, because then at least I’d know he was alive and well. Or at least physically well.
“Javi, are you alright?” I asked during a phone call one afternoon.
“Yeah,” he grunted, “of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He hung up, leaving me wondering what he wasn’t sharing. Not that he owed me any explanation. His work was exhausting, and he was putting every part of himself into it.
He finally caught one of the brothers, and the office decided to go out to the bar to celebrate the amazing victory. Javi didn’t seem to care that he made a huge step forward in not only the case, but also his career, and told everyone to go out without him. I watched his back, forever tense, as he dragged his feet into his office with his head down. He didn’t even acknowledge me when he passed by, but I tried to ignore the hurt that radiated through my bones.
I was dismissed with just a wave of his hand, and I went home to change. It had been a while since I had gone anywhere but work and home, and I couldn’t help but feel as though I wanted more. Every time I went home at the end of the day I longed for someone to fall into.
My closet was almost embarrassing, since I mostly had workwear that was not usually appropriate for a bar. In that moment I envied the other women at the office with their working outfits that looked so easy to transform to nighttime events. There were a few girls I had become friends with, but they were much smaller than me so I wouldn’t even be able to raid their wardrobes, and I was too proud to ask for fashion advice.
I swiped through skirt after skirt after blouse until I came across a dress I had tucked away toward the back. The tags were still on, but the little black number was perfect. It was slightly small when I squeezed myself into it, but only slightly. I just wouldn’t be able to sit in it. I also had to leave one of my top buttons undone, showing off the slopes of my breasts. The hemline was a bit shorter than the pencil skirts I usually sported, but it did the trick.
The mirror reflected a woman that I nearly didn’t recognize, until my red painted lips turned up into a smile. My eyes squinted a bit at the corners, showing my true happiness to be out of the office and ready to take on the nightlife.
I was on my way to the designated bar when I felt a pang in my chest, like a tug toward a certain building. Leaning forward, I asked the cab driver if we could make a quick stop. We pulled up outside the office and I slowly made my way inside. The lights in the hallways were dimmer than usual since the other offices were unoccupied, but one doorway was still bright.
Of course he was still there.
I stood in the doorway and studied him for a moment. Javi’s white shirt was a bit wrinkled, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons undone. His tie was laying off to the side across his desk, next to his arms which led up to where his hands cradled his head. He was clearly stressed, if the ash tray of cigarettes were any indication, along with the empty bottle of whiskey next to them.
For a moment I thought about walking over to him and smoothing my hands over his shoulders. They seemed so tense they were almost up to his ears. But I knew that wouldn’t be the right move. Instead I just knocked softly on the doorframe.
He jumped a bit, looking up to see who was there. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head once he saw me, and he dragged his gaze down my body and back up to my face. I could feel my chest heating up but stayed steady on my feet. I knew what I looked like, and felt better in my skin than I had in a long time.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, both confusion and shock etched across his features.
“I should be asking you the same question,” I said. “You know we’re celebrating your accomplishment right? If you’re not going to join us, at least give yourself a bit of a break.”
He sighed and sat back in his chair, his hands clasped together on his lap. “Just because I caught one of them doesn’t mean crime stops for the night.”
I shrugged. “I know, but still. Why don’t you relax for the night and let them panic a bit?”
“I haven’t seen you wear that before,” he commented, changing the subject to keep me from pressing. To my shock, his eyes shamelessly roamed my figure once more.
He used to flirt before he gave up, back when I was just a barrier between him and whatever he wanted. But even then, he would comment on my hair, accessories, nails, but never my body. Even when he commented on my clothes it was a throwaway comment about the patterns or adornments.
The way he was following the way the fabric of my dress hugged my waist, my hips, my soft tummy, had me blushing like crazy. It wasn’t subtle by any means, and certainly not what I was used to from Javi.
“Yeah, I bought it a while ago but never had a reason to wear it.” I smoothed down imaginary wrinkles as a way to distract myself from his gaze. “Figured now was as good a time as any.”
He hummed in agreement and looked back down to the papers sprawled out on his desk. I wondered briefly what it would be like to be those papers before tamping down that train of thought. My face was already burning from his attention, I didn’t need to make it worse.
“Well, I hope you have fun tonight. You’ve been working quite hard, you deserve a break.” He still stared ahead at the papers, as if it was too difficult to look at me again.
“Javi,” I said, causing him to drag his eyes away enough to finally look me in the eye, “you should really come.”
He nodded slowly, then looked away once more. “I’ll try.”
I sighed and wished him a goodnight, hoping I would see him again before the night was through. The click of my heels echoed throughout the empty hallway as I walked away from Javi’s doorway.
Although I occupied myself with my small group of work friends at the bar, I still kept a lookout for my boss just in case he actually attempted to make an appearance. After about an hour I gave up, realizing that he wasn’t going to grace us with his presence.
I had known that in the past he would only go out with either Carillo or Murphy, that he wasn’t the celebratory type, but I had hoped things had changed.
One of my coworkers approached me. I hadn’t really talked to him other than being the middle person whenever he needed to speak to Javi, but he seemed quite nice.
“I don’t normally see you out of work,” he said. His name was James, and he was slightly taller than Javi, but didn’t have an ounce of his charm.
“That’s because I’m hardly ever out of work.” I chuckled, bringing my drink to my lips. When I first ordered it I had to struggle not to cringe at the strong taste, but after another two it was going down like water. Dangerous, but much needed.
“I’d love to see more of you,” James said, not shy in the way his eyes took in every part of me. I felt myself struggling not to shy away, so unlike the confidence I felt when Javi did the same. “You’ll have to get the boss man to give you some more time away.”
I smiled. “Yeah, like that will ever happen. You know he needs the best,” I joked.
James stepped closer, his cologne invading my senses. “Well, he needs to learn how to share.”
“Who needs to share?”
My back straightened as though someone shoved a rod through my spine. “Javi?” I asked spinning to see him standing behind me, a smile directed at me, his eyes downright murderous toward James.
“Hello, (Y/N).” Javi brought his glass of, what I assumed was whiskey to his lips, and raised his hand to my lower back. I welcomed the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric of my dress while his eyes remained on the man in front of us.
“I didn’t think you’d be coming out,” James spoke calmly, as if he couldn’t tell the tension radiating between us. “I heard you weren’t the partying type. Well, anymore.”
Javi’s smile never wavered, but his eyes darkened enough that I noticed. “I wasn’t planning on making an appearance but somebody reminded me of how hard we’ve all been working.” He turned to look at me, his hand tightening slightly on my back. “If we don’t celebrate our successes we might as well let them win now.”
“You mean your success?” James wasn’t backing down.
“Teamwork.” Javi countered, looking back up at James. “I couldn’t have done it without my team.” His hand slipped around to my hip, pulling me into his space. James’ eyes flickered to the motion, his smile turning into a smirk.
“Wow. Looks like you’ve grown up a bit, Peña.”
“Someone had to.” His hand tightened, my chest felt on fire.
James glanced toward me, then the hand at my hip, before aiming his glare back to Javi. “Although it is comforting to see some habits haven’t changed.” He stepped back, turning to part from us, but not before throwing over his shoulder, “you two have a wonderful night!”
I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye before James was out of sight. Javi removed his hand from me and started to walk away, but not before I spun on him, ready for a fight.
“What the fuck was that?” I was shocked at Javi’s display, but mostly downright furious.
He shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“All of this,” I gestured between us, and to my hip, still feeling the warmth of his skin, “and the whole ‘someone had to’? Are you serious?”
His eyes darkened. “What are you trying to say here?”
“You have no right,” I hissed through my teeth in anger. “I may work for you but I don’t belong to you.”
“I didn’t even do anything. If you want to keep talking to James, be my guest.” He stepped closer, I could smell the whiskey on his lips. “But don’t think I’m going to stand by while that shitbag tries to pick you up.”
“Maybe I wanted him to pick me up, ever think about that?” I crossed my arms, then immediately uncrossed them when his eyes flickered to my cleavage on display.
“I did think about it, but thought you might want to know what kind of man was trying to do it.” He downed the rest of his drink then zeroed back in on me. “That man has been sleeping his way through the office and leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him. I didn’t think you’d want to be one of them.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “So he’s you?”
His lips tightened into a thin line, his jaw clenching. “Right.”
It felt like someone reached into my chest and squeezed my heart. I knew I wasn’t being fair, but I wasn’t completely wrong either.
“Javi, I’m sorry I-“
He held up his hand. “No, you’re right. I won’t be bothering you anymore, don’t worry. Have a good rest of your night.”
I didn’t bother trying to stop him as he set his empty glass at the bar and walked away. I sighed, finding myself alone, and when I looked around I noticed James was already chatting with another woman, her head thrown back in laughter. My night was ruined, so I went home.
Javi didn’t return to the office for another week. I had been told he was away looking for ways to keep Gilberto Rodriguez in prison, but he hadn’t left me a single note. He never even called me the entire time he was away. I worked away with what I had delivered to me by others, but Javier Peña never contacted me directly.
He had to return to his office eventually, but it only happened after Franklin Jurado was murdered. I knew Javi was beyond pissed and frustrated. But so was I, especially after he walked into his office without a single acknowledgment thrown my way.
I immediately stood and followed him into his office before he even had a chance to sit down.
“What do you need, (Y/N)?” He asked, still not looking my way,
“What do I need? What do I need, Javier?” My chest heaved while I tried to contain my anger. “What the fuck?”
He finally looked up, his face placid. “Unless this has to do with keeping that motherfucker locked up, then I suggest you save it for later.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, then walked out of his office, slamming the door behind me. I barely paused to grab my purse before storming out of the office, not giving a single shit who was watching my temper tantrum.
I marched myself to the nearest bar, ordering the cheapest whiskey they had. I wasn’t wanting to get drunk, just needed to dull the senses a bit. Calm the fires that licked at my heart.
Two drinks later I found myself feeling enough of the effects and bravery for what I wanted to do. I laid more than enough cash on the bar and clutched my purse to keep me steady as I walked out and in the direction of a certain apartment.
I had only been to Javi’s apartment once before, and it was only to drop off paperwork he had needed. He had barely cracked the door, not wanting to cross our work and home boundaries, which I appreciated in the moment. This time I was ready to run across those boundaries if he’d let me.
Javi never answered his door. I knocked over and over but no response. I sighed, realizing he probably hadn’t left the office. It felt as though I was doing a walk of shame as I made my way out to the street to try and flag down a cab.
The cab passed by the office and I almost asked if we could stop, but no longer felt the fight that had brought me to Javi’s apartment. Instead I just rested my head on the window and watched the lights pass by until we stopped outside my place. I trudged up the small flight of stairs and rounded the corner to find the man I had been looking for leaning against my door.
He was still in his navy suit from work, though his white dress shirt underneath was slightly wrinkled. His tie was missing which gave me room to see the expanse of tan skin exposed with his top three buttons undone.
I stopped in my tracks. “What’re you doing here?”
He shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge deal. “It’s later. I figured you still wanted to talk.”
I glared at him, his expression still not changing as if he was already bored from what I would have to say. Instead of lashing out in my hallway I pushed past him to unlock the door. I walked in leaving it open, he got to choose whether or not he crossed that boundary. Sure enough, I heard the door close with a click and the lock slid into place. I was glad he took the same safety precautions as me.
“Take a seat wherever.” I waved toward my living room before making my way into the kitchen. I grabbed two glasses and thought about it before pouring myself more whiskey. Javi would appreciate it, but I probably needed to slow down. I poured myself a glass of water instead.
I brought his alcohol and my water out to the living room and handed him the former before sitting in the chair opposite him.
“So,” he started, “what did you want to talk about? Back at the office, I mean.”
I took a deep breath in and out. “You’ve been a real jerk.”
He didn’t seem shocked whatsoever and nodded for me to keep going.
“I’ve been working my ass off for you, even though I did not like you, and you’ve been so rude. You hardly give me the time of day, and the whole James thing was fucked up.” I felt like everything I had to say was falling apart. I was spiraling, no longer fueled by the alcohol and anger running through my bloodstream just an hour earlier.
“Okay,” he said. “You done?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m done.”
He stood up, drained his glass, and placed it on the table. “Alright. Sorry for being an ass. Hope you have a good night.”
My mouth dropped open as he turned to leave. “Javi!”
He stopped but didn’t turn back to look at me.
“You can’t just leave, don’t you have anything to say?” I stood up and walked over to stand in front of him. He wouldn’t look at me.
“I don’t have anything to say. I apologized, what more do you want?”
“Javi, come on. There must be something else going on. I know you’re frustrated with work but that doesn’t explain your behaviour-“
His head snapped up, his eyes locking on mine.
“You have no idea what I’m feeling so don’t fucking act like it.”
“Then tell me! Tell me, Javi,” I begged.
He grabbed my upper arms and pushed me back toward the wall. His hand came up to the back of my head to cushion it against the hard surface, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I couldn’t look away from the heat burning in his eyes, intense and focused directly on me.
“I have seen shit that would keep you up nights. Stuff nightmares are made of. And I’m so fucking tired. Half the reason I smoke as much as I do, no matter how hard I’ve tried to quit, are to stop my hands from shaking, and the only comfort I’ve found is either in someone else’s bed or at the end of a fucking bottle.” He softened his grip on my arm. “Until I met you.”
I opened my mouth to speak but the look he gave me was enough to stop me in my tracks.
“Ever since you walked through that door you’ve been the only thing I think about. Whiskey doesn’t taste the same, smoking has lost all its effect, and I wouldn’t dream of being in any bed but yours. If only you’d have me. I know I don’t deserve you. You’re so good, you’re the hope in this world. I don’t deserve to carve out my own comfort in you.” He pushed himself even closer. I could feel the heat between our lips. “But that doesn’t stop me from wanting you. Craving you.”
He leaned in, his nose brushing against the underside of my jaw. My eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled my scent, sighing out and causing goosebumps to erupt over my skin.
“If you tell me to stop then I will, just say the word. I’ll walk away, I’ll move away if I have to. I’ll never bother you again.” His voice was raspy, a restraint pulled tight over his vocal cords. “But if you don’t stop me then I’m afraid I never will. I’m addicted to you. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
“Javi,” I breathed, finally opening my eyes again to find him pulled away enough to observe my reaction. “I-“
He shook his head slightly. “Yes or no, querida. Do you want this? Do you want me as much as I want you?” His voice was a whisper, barely loud enough to hear, shared only between us like a secret though we were alone.
I nodded my head, then said, “yes, Javi. Yes.”
Kissing him was like coming home after a long day. The plush press of his lips quenched a thirst I didn’t realize was that strong within me. It was everything I wanted. Everything I needed.
His arms were strong as they held me against his body, pulling me in tighter and tighter. I couldn’t breathe, but I couldn’t stop. Our lips slotted together perfectly, he pushed and I pulled, drinking him in. I moaned into his mouth, giving him an opportunity to slide his tongue past my lips.
We pulled away gasping for air, our chests heaving together. His eyes searched mine for any sign of regret or hesitancy. He never found it. The only thing radiating from my very being was want.
“Wow,” I sighed out, “that was… wow.”
He chuckled and leaned in to peck at my lips. “It doesn’t have to stop if you don’t want it to.” His lips smudged kisses across my jaw, then down to my neck. I moaned when he reached my collarbone, licking a strip up behind my ear.
“I don’t ever want to stop,” I said, slightly out of breath.
“Good,” he growled against my skin before sinking his teeth in enough to make me groan. “Me neither.”
“I need you, Javi,” I said, my voice turning to a moan at the tail end of his name.
“I know, lo se, hermosa,” he spoke between bites along my neck. “Show me your bed, baby.”
I pulled back as much as he would let me and led him by the front of his shirt through my hallway until we got to my room. Before I could turn around to face him again he had wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his front. His name left my lips in sighs and moans while his hands slid up my body to cup my breasts, all while his lips still continued exploring any inch of skin they could reach.
My ass pressed back against his aching cock that could be felt through his suit pants. He pulled his lips away from my neck enough to whimper in my ear as I kept grinding myself back against him. His thumbs rubbed against my nipples through the fabric of my blouse and bra, but soon enough he pulled away with a huff.
“You look so sexy in this outfit, baby, but I need to feel you,” he said, his eyes roving over my clothed figure. He reached up and flicked the frills at my collar with his fingertips, smiling gently at me.
“Thought you hated the frills.” I remembered him commenting on them several times.
He shook his head, disbelief in his eyes. “They drive me fucking crazy, keeping up that good girl image. You were always such a good girl with everyone.” He leaned in and kissed me, pulling away just enough that I could still feel his lips. “For everyone except me.”
I gasped as he bit my lower lip, tugging on it slightly. His hands started undoing the buttons on my blouse as he kept talking.
“Always so vulgar, dismissive, uncaring with me. Pushing me away, telling me no.” His lips followed the skin he uncovered as he continued to slowly unbutton my shirt. “But you can be a good girl, can’t you?”
He looked up at me, his big, brown eyes tugging at my heart. He smirked and shoved me backward onto the bed. I barely got my bearings before feeling his body following mine, caging me in. There was no way I could move as he pressed me into the mattress and continued kissing his way down my body.
“You’re going to be such a good girl for me. Aren’t you, baby?”
“Y-yes, Javi,” I moaned. “I’ll be so good for you.”
I had never planned on giving in so quickly to Javi but I melted as soon as I felt his lips on me.
“Good fucking girl,” he growled against my lower abdomen. His hands slipped down to my skirt which he peeled down my legs. “God, these thighs. They look fucking delicious.”
I went to close them, feeling too open for him, but he slapped the inside of one of them before I could. He chased the sting with a gentle kiss, then sucked a trail of marks inside my thighs up to my center. He practically ripped my panties off, bringing them to his nose and inhaling while his eyes were locked onto mine.
Lord, he was sinful. And I needed him bad.
“Javi,” I groaned, pressing my head back into the bed.
“Ask nicely, hermosa.” His hands slipped up my calves and thighs, pushing my legs apart enough for him to settle between them. He was on his knees on the floor, and my legs were over his shoulders. “I thought you were a good girl.”
“Please, Javi. Please,” I begged. I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for, pleasure forming a steady haze in my mind. All I knew was that if he didn’t touch me I was going to go crazy.
“There we go,” he said before sliding his thumb through my slit. He ran it over my clit before moving further toward my hole. “Fuck, so wet. You’re absolutely soaked for me.”
I gripped onto the blankets as his tongue swiped over my clit. His name and ‘please’ were the only words I could say or think while his head was buried between my thighs. My back arched as his tongue was relentless on my clit, his hands warm and firm holding my legs in place.
“Are you always wet like this? Or is it just for me?” He asked, pulling away enough to circle me with his middle finger. I writhed on the bed, wanting more. “You don’t have to answer that, baby, I think I already know.”
His finger slowly pushed into me, and I moaned for him. “Javi, fuck, need you, Javi.”
“Lo sé, querida, but I need you to be patient for me.” He continued to fuck me slowly with his finger, then slipped another one inside. I practically lifted off the bed when he crooked them and hit the right spot. “There we go.”
“Javi, please,” I breathed, my chest heaving. “I want to cum.”
He smirked at me, then spit directly on my clit. My eyes rolled into the back of my head at the feeling of his spit sliding between my folds.
“Filthy, baby, you’re fucking filthy. You love this, don’t you?” He dove back in, sucking my bud into his mouth while he was rubbing against the exact spot I needed.
Lightning started to shoot through my veins, and I knew I was close. Just in time for him to leave my clit. His tongue traveled down until it was fucking into me between his fingers. My chest burned as a blush spread up to my neck as I opened up for him. His nose nudged at my clit once, then twice, until it became a steady rhythm.
He pulled away. “Ride my face, baby, use your hips.” He pushed his tongue into me then pulled back out. “I won’t break, I can take it, come on. Fuck my face.”
I groaned and reached down to fist his hair between my fingers. He slipped his fingers from my cunt and wrapped his arms around my hips, pulling me down on his face. His nose pressed deliciously against my clit and his tongue continued to lick into me. I started to buck my hips, testing out the waters until he used his grip on me to encourage more movement.
It wasn’t long before I was pulling his head as close as possible and grinding my hips against him. Javi moaned against me, the vibration racing through my body. My toes started to curl as his grip tightened into steel. A thrill ran through me at the thought that there might be marks afterward, that his fingerprints would be worn into my skin as a reminder of how I felt in that moment.
My orgasm hit me like a bolt of lightning as it shot through me. “Javi, Javi, Javi,” I chanted.
He groaned and finally pulled away once I fell limp. “Holy fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.”
I lifted my head to look at the man still on his knees for me. His face glistened with my juices, and my mouth watered at the thought of tasting myself on his lips. A blush continued to creep up onto my cheeks as I took in his disheveled appearance. He was still wearing his suit, which was extremely rumpled, and reminded me that I was still in my blouse and bra.
He leaned forward and kissed me, before he started to slide my shirt off my shoulders, then moved his hands to the straps of my bra. It was almost strange how delicate he was after the strength he showed while holding me to his face, but he was gentle as he slid my straps down my arms. One of his hands went up my back to the clasp, and he undid it with a simple motion. I gasped as he smirked at me while pulling the fabric off my chest.
I was always very conscious of my breast size. They were considerably larger from a young age, and something I had always tried to hide. The first time I hadn’t was that night at the bar. I thought about shying away from Javi as he uncovered them, but the look in his eyes made me freeze. His pupils almost completely engulfed the deep brown, and they were fixated on my fully exposed body.
“Holy fuck, hermosa,” he growled, reaching up to cup both breasts in his warm palms. “I knew you were beautiful, but seeing you like this? Unbelievable.”
His thumbs smoothed over my nipples, making me moan. The warmth of his mouth pressed on my sternum, then moved to my right breast.
“Javi,” I sighed, one of my hands coming up to the back of his head. His hair was still ruffled from when my hands were in it before, and he moaned when I gave a gentle tug to the curls at his nape.
He licked over my nipple, making my body jerk. “What do you need, baby?”
“Clothes, off, please,” I panted as he absolutely tortured my nipples with his teeth and tongue. “Need to see you.”
He pulled back, locking me in place with just a look. Slowly he started to slide his suit jacket off, maintaining eye contact even when he started undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt. My skin vibrated with a restless want, my fingers itched to reach out and touch the tan planes of his stomach that he revealed to me. I was practically salivating by the time he dropped his shirt to the floor. His fingers moved to the button of his pants but I reached out to stop him.
“Wait,” I said. “Let me. Please.”
He smiled and dropped one of his hands, the other coming up to smooth the hair out of my face. “Okay, baby. You go ahead.”
I continued on, beaming up at him, trying my hardest to be sexy but the euphoria running through my limbs made it impossible. My fingers were trembling at the thought of what I was doing, but I pressed on, determined not to let him see how nervous I was. A firm grip on the underside of my jaw caused me to pause.
Javi lifted my face so I could see his. “(Y/N). We don’t have to keep going. We can stop right here if you want.”
I shook my head as much as I could in his hold. “I don’t want to stop. Just nervous is all.”
He nodded. “Take your time, I’m in no rush as long as I’m with you.”
His words caused my smile to grow almost too large for my face. I could tell he meant it, his smile matching mine even through the dark look in his eyes. Even if I couldn’t feel the heat radiating from his body, and the hardness just on the other side of his pants, I would know how turned on he was.
I popped the button on his pants and slowly dragged the zipper down. “Such a good girl,” he cooed above me, keeping me going.
The dusting of hair leading down his pants was soft against the back of my fingers as I revealed more and more skin. Where I thought his underwear should begin was bare, and when I started to pull the fabric down I was met with the thick base of his cock.
I glanced up and his hand reached down and cupped my jaw, his thumb smoothing over my bottom lip and dragging it down until it popped back up. I felt like I was barely breathing as I refocused on the task at hand and pulled his pants the rest of the way down.
His cock was smooth as velvet and heavy in my hand. I heard him inhale sharply as I started to drag my hand slowly toward his tip then back down to the base. I lowered my head until my lips were perched at the slit, and poked my tongue out to catch the bead of precum that had gathered there. He hissed through his teeth as I hummed at the taste of him.
“Fuck, baby, stop teasing,” he grunted, reaching his hand to the back of my head. I waited for him to pull me closer to his length but he never did.
I parted my lips and slid the head of his cock into my mouth further and further until I could feel the weight of him settle on my tongue. The taste of him was heady, and flooded my senses. Salt, skin, warmth, and him.
Before I could continue pushing myself further, his hand came around to my throat and wrapped around firmly. He pressed back and I had no choice but to pull myself off his cock, and continued to follow his grip until he had me pinned on the bed. His hand squeezed once around my neck, enough for me to feel lightheaded for a moment, and then he pulled away.
Javi slowly tugged at his cock, now throbbing and fully hard, while he watched me. My mouth was still agape and my chest rose and fell steadily.
“I’m sorry, hermosa, but I need to fuck you.”
I couldn’t speak, too stunned at the ghost of his grip on my neck. I had never had somebody do that, but the way he had wrapped his hand around my throat caused a steady pulse to erupt between my legs. I wanted his hands back on me, wherever he wanted to put them.
He kicked off his pants and socks, then climbed on the bed next to me. I pushed myself up until I was laying on my back toward the top of my bed, my head on a pillow. Javi watched with his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’, trailing his eyes up my legs, my stomach, my chest, then landing on my face.
He moved so he was on his knees between mine, and brought his fist down to his cock once more. I watched, mesmerized by the sight of the wet head of his cock disappearing in his large fist, as he lazily stroked himself.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his voice soft but firm.
I obeyed immediately, bringing my hand down between my legs and circling my clit with my middle finger.
“Fuck,” he groaned, “you look so good. You’re doing so good for me, baby, so good. Fuck.”
“Javi,” I whimpered for him. “I need you. Please, I need you so bad.”
I was absolutely aching for him, electricity lighting up my nerves while he watched me pleasure myself all for him. I gasped at the feeling of his cock sliding between my folds and looked to see him thrusting his hips against me. He held firm onto the base of his cock, directing it to nudge against my entrance before sliding it up to my clit instead, over and over and over.
“Beg,” he said. He didn’t ask, he spoke calmly as if he wasn’t torturing me.
“What?” I asked, unsure that I even heard him right.
“I said,” he slapped his cock against my clit, making my entire body jolt on the bed, “beg.”
I thought about what that meant for him. After years of begging me for something as simple as basic files, and after years of me telling him no, he now had me in the palm of his hand. For a second I thought about saying no, then he slapped his cock down again. Tears sprang to the corners of my eyes at the sensitivity, and I gasped when he pressed himself at my entrance.
“Please,” I whispered, “please, Javi. I need you, I need your cock inside me. Please fuck me.”
He sighed, pulling back. “You’re lucky my patience has run out. Next time you’ll have to do better.”
The thought of ‘next time’ raced through my mind, but that was cut short when he started steadily pushing in. The stretch of him caused my head to fall back into the pillow and a guttural moan was ripped from deep within my chest.
He stilled when he was settled all the way, and I wiggled my hips to feel more of him. He leant down and braced one hand on the bed next to my head, while the other gripped onto my outer thigh.
“Want to be gentle with you,” he said, his words coming out tight. “Want you to feel good.”
“Don’t. Don’t be gentle, please.” I panted underneath him, sweat starting to prickle at my skin. “Want to feel it, I want to feel all of you, Javi. Don’t hold back.”
He pulled out abruptly, and I whined at the loss of him. “I need you on top,” he said, helping me move so he could take my place on the bed. His hands guided me so I was straddling him. “You want to be good for me, right?”
I nodded, feeling my nerves creep up. He could see all of me, and I would be the one in control.
“Then fuck me like a good girl.”
He pulled my hips down into his length, and I threw my head back as he sunk further and further in. Once I was fully seated my entire body shuddered. His lips were parted with his tongue sliding out to wet them as he looked at me like I was his next meal.
“Look at you, baby, mierda,” his voice somehow came out incredibly sweet and syrupy, even though I could feel every ridge of his cock against my walls. “Ride my cock, that’s it, ride me like I’m yours, I’m all yours, baby, all yours.”
The only sound I could make was a squeaky, high pitched moan as my legs burned from bouncing on him. My hands were perched on his chest while his traveled up my body to grasp my tits. He held me firm and I used the opportunity to switch up what I was doing.
“Oh, Javi,” my voice came out lower than expected once I started to grind myself against his pelvis. His name continued to pour from my lips, getting more and more breathy until I was just shaping my lips around the letters.
“That’s it, good girl,” he continued his praise, which made me grind down even harder. “Such a good fucking girl.”
My orgasm approached steadily, less of a punch to the gut as the last one, and my thighs tightened around his torso. I continued to grind myself back and forth, my toes curling, his words and moans spurring me on. I reached up to one of his hands and pulled it off my breast, leading it up to grip around my throat. Finally I gasped out his name as my pleasure pulled me under, squeezing the air out of me until I slumped down over him.
“Oh fuck, such a dirty girl, cumming with my hand around your throat,” he growled.
He barely gave me time to recover, and pulled my upper body closer so he could bend his legs. “Stay still,” he grunted before pounding into me so mercilessly the only thing I could do was hang on to him.
My teeth latched onto his collarbone, and my hands scrambled until they found purchase on his shoulders. He was grunting and gasping while pushing himself in and out of me, my cunt deliciously trying to grip him while I sobbed from oversensitivity.
Javi chanted my name over and over while I continued to bite down on his neck. His hands reached down, one wrapping around my lower body to press me down onto him further, while the other gripped my ass. His body jolted, messing up his rhythm, and he held me even closer to him. I felt so incredibly full as his grip of steel held me firmly in place. His cock pulsed inside me before his hot cum started filling me up.
“Baby,” he whined against my temple, his voice gravelly and torn. “Baby, baby, baby.”
Eventually his body melted, his cock softening inside me. We made no effort to move, and stayed still just breathing together.
“I am never letting you go,” he murmured, his lips still pressed to my hairline above my ear. “You hear me? Never. You’re stuck with me now.”
I chuckled, then gasped when I felt his cock stir. “Sounds good to me.”
He helped me roll over so I was on my side, and he went to find a warm cloth to clean us up. I could feel his cum steadily leaking out of me, but was still a bit sad when he wiped it away. It helped when I saw the way he watched it drip out of me first, almost like he didn’t want it to end either.
We slept in each other's arms that night, and when I awoke to find my face still buried in his chest I couldn’t help but smile. He slowly woke up not long after me, and we laid in bed kissing each other slowly. Our tongues moved lazily together with our soft moans waking us up more and more. He pulled away and I reached for him.
“I can’t, we have to go to work.” He chuckled while gathering his clothes.
I groaned and rolled onto my back so I could watch him. He got dressed while I wished he would do the opposite.
“Can’t we just call in sick?” I mumbled, sleep still thick in my throat.
“Yeah, cause that won’t look suspicious.” He buttoned up his shirt, and started to roll the sleeves up his forearms a bit. “Bad enough I have to walk in there with the same clothes as yesterday.”
I smirked, and got up to get dressed. My smirk turned into a full blown smile, and it didn’t leave when we got into his car together, or when we walked into the office side by side with his hand on my lower back, and not when I sat at my desk.
And it certainly didn’t leave as I watched him continue on into his office with the top three buttons of his shirt still undone, showing off the purpling bruise on his collarbone.
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Hey Raven, hope your doing well. I was rewatching book 5 and something struck me. Crowly stills does his thing to get yuu/mc to host the NRC tribe at Ramshackle. But compare to previous chapters hes seems a little nicer, i guess? He offering renovations and upgrades ( a positive), instead of just threatening to cut yuu's food budget or something (a negative).
Where im going with this is, do you think Crowley may have felt a tiny tinge for his (in) action in book 4? Or atleast, realized he actually screwed up. He did give Yuu in case of an emergency.... and promptly ignored it (or just turned it off) when he went on break. He likely had to have heard what happened over the break...an likely saw his missed calls and put 2 and 2 together. Sure he may not feel bad enough to apologize (at least openly), but he does seem to make himself scarce early in b5. That could just be him being, well, the headmage. Maybe he's just not sure how to deal with MC or how they'd react to seeing him? So instead of threatening Yuu, he offers them something instead? Idk, maybe im reaching. Crowley relationship with Yuu is complicated. I do like to believe he has some empathy or regret (or maybe he just has more respect for yuu by b5?) After everything up to that point
Like i said, i may be reaching here. Wanted to get your input. Sorry for the long ask. Have a good one :)
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In many fandom depictions of Crowley, he often serves as Yuu's guardian who is incompetent but well-meaning. I'm also guilty of doing this, Crowley is considered my OC's father figure (even if my OC isn't a Yuu). That's how we choose to engage with the characters and the world that we love! However, I don't believe that Crowley has that sort of tenderness for Yuu in canon, whether at the start or as their relationship develops over the course of the main story. Now, that's not to say that I think Crowley is cold or hateful towards Yuu. Far from it! He does care for them, but in the same way that a teacher might care about nurturing their students and preparing them for the world beyond graduation. Crowley demonstrates a similar attitude towards other NRC students, with one very clear example being in his Raven Jacket vignettes. In those stories, he likens his students to apple trees that he raises and nurtures, hoping that one day they might bear fruit. He does not particularly grant Yuu special treatment unless it's a scenario where he wants them to do a favor for him. (Though here I would also argue he does the same for other students when he wants them to resolve an issue in his place, which happens frequently in event stories; in Fairy Gala, he warns the boys they'll be held back if classes cannot proceed due to the wacky weather. In Ghost Marriage, Crowley shames the boys for not expressing interest in rescuing Idia, etc.)
I also want to set the record straight regarding how exactly Crowley gets Yuu to comply with his requests. Reviewing all avaliable books in the main story, Crowley rarely outright threatens Yuu if they refuse to help him:
Prologue — Crowley does not initially ask anything of Yuu, but he does provide them a temporary home and food until they can sort something out. During Yuu's stay, they are meant to do handiwork to earn their keep. However, Crowley tries to expel them after their involvement in breaking what is considered a precious chandelier. In this case, his anger is somewhat justified but it's still the one major example of Crowley leveraging something to force Yuu to act in a way that he desires. The thing is, it's revealed in chapter 19 that Crowley did not believe Yuu could acquire the magestone he asked for and was all set to finalize the expulsion papers. So really, he wasn't serious at all in giving Yuu a chance to redeem themselves and was going to expel Yuu anyway (until they happened to prove their "usefulness"). Whether this counts as an example of Crowley "threatening" Yuu, then, is up to individual interpretation.
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Book 1 — Crowley makes no specific request to Yuu. He shows up late in the book and suggests to the frustrated Adeuce that they fight Riddle to claim his seat as dorm leader, but does not tell Yuu to do anything in this situation. Recall that it was Ace that marched up to Ramshackle's front door and demanded that he be allowed to stay overnight; Crowley had no part in that.
Book 2 — In 2-7, Crowley asks Yuu to investigate the strange string of accidents that has befallen the students set to play in the upcoming inter-dorm magift/spelldrive tournament. There is a part where Crowley says he "never promised to cover living expenses". You, as Yuu, have the option to ask him "Is that a threat...?" to which Crowley never properly responds. Interpret that how you wish. He then offers Grim and Yuu a chance to participate in said tournament if they succeed, seeing as they lacked the 7 players needed to form a team. Crowley even says he will find 5 other players to fill in their missing team seats for them.
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Book 3 — Here in 3-6, Crowley never actually threatens to cut off food. Instead, he is trying to earn pity from Yuu by guilt tripping them and emphasizing that he, the headmaster, is so busy with his tasks (like finding Yuu a way home) and will provide them with the funds they need regardless because he is so very kind. He's trying to tug at their heartstrings by pointing out the things he selflessly does for them, so they feel obligated to do something for him in return. Once Yuu agrees to help, he lavishes them with praise and says it is "expected" of someone he personally chose.
But!! I want to add that in the Episode of Octavinelle manga, this same scene is depicted as Crowley threatening to cut their food budget. I'm not sure if this is just a different interpretation (since Yuuta seems to prepare more food than is usually implied in the game; this would explain why their food costs go up significantly) or if Crowley truly was also threatening to cut the budget in the game.
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Book 4 — Crowley makes a reasonable request in 4-2; he asks Yuu and Grim to tend to the fire fairies over winter break since it's a task no one else will be present to handle. In exchange, he says he will give them a banquet of tasty foods (which is not an empty promise; in 4-39, the Ramshackle Ghosts tell Yuu and Grim that the headmaster has left them with a ton of food as thanks.
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Book 5 — Crowley appears in 5-21 asking that Yuu allow the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle for their month-long training camp. He explains that Vil and Rook are willing to give up their share of the prize money if Yuu agrees to these terms. It is then that Crowley adds that he will help with renovation too, most likely to sweeten the deal with his word.
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Book 6 — Crowley does not ask anything of Yuu. He does, however, call in STYX in 6-2 because he becomes concerned about the threat that Grim poses after consuming multiple crystallized blots. After Grim is taken, Crowley instructs Yuu in 6-4 to wait until Grim has recovered and been evaluated by a third party to speak with him again.
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Book 7 — Crowley makes no specific requests to Yuu.
You can see in almost all instances that Crowley uses a variety of tactics to get his students to do what he wants them to. He bribes, shames/guilts them, points out very real consequences if the problem at hand is not resolved, and, yes, occasionally makes what can be interpreted as a vague threat. Despite this, the fact remains that he was always nice, not just post-book 4 (in fact, Crowley was also nice during book 4). I don't see the circumstances as "anything before or during book 4 is him being negative and threatening to punish Yuu and anything after book 4 is him being kind and positive to Yuu". In most cases with Yuu, he is offering them something they would want. His go-to strategy isn't threats, it tends to be the promise of a reward.
I wouldn't tie any of Crowley's actions to feeling a sense of remorse or guilt on his own part. While it's true we don't really get to see inside of his head, from what we see of him... this man is utterly shameless. He's willing to resort to emotional manipulation to convince literal children to solve problems that he, the powerful mage and adult, should be dealing with. What's more, he praises himself for Yuu's competence and willingness to step up. That's him placing a lot of faith in his students, and I don't think he feels any guilt in doing this. Why else would he send them into dangerous situations over and over again? He must, to some extent, believe they can already handle themselves just fine, otherwise he's creating tons of legal liabilities for himself by purposefully throwing children of tons of affluent families into the line of fire. Besides, he's a highly skilled mage himself--if any true, TRUE danger were to befall them, surely he could save the day himself. My thought is that he has sort of a "tough love" approach where he tosses his students into the fires and sees how they get out of it in one piece, but it's just presented in a "devil-may-care" way because of his lackadaisical attitude.
Regarding book 4, I personally see Crowley giving his cell phone number as just a means to provide reassurance to Grim and Yuu, since they (especially Grim) are protesting about him seemingly leaving on vacation. It's an empty gesture so he can have his getaway without much of a fuss; I totally believe that Crowley did not ever intend to answer his phone. When he returns in book 5, he's already asking another favor of Yuu, so I get the sense he isn't really bothered by what happened. I would even say that Crowley still has several major appearances in book 5, not that he has made himself scarcer. He appears to ask the favor, appears again to evaluate their performance, and then a third time at the cultural festival to speak with the headmaster of RSA. Crowley gets plenty of screen time here, much more then in books 6 and 7. If he truly felt bad or actively wanted to avoid Yuu, he could easily just tell other students (ie Vil) or even school staff (ghosts, teachers, etc.) to relay the deal for him.
Again, I want to be clear: THIS IS NOT CROWLEY BASHING. The only thing I am expressing in this post is that while I do love this bird-brained goober and think he cares for his students, I don't believe it's done in the conventional sense you're thinking of. Crowley can be selfish and callous and throw his students into danger, and that's okay! Sometimes we want to love a useless man who's trying his best, even if his best is pretty lousy/j
Whew, that was a lot of brain dumping! I hope I properly responded to all your thoughts and that you found this read semi-entertaining~
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deepmochi · 2 years
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Saturn and restrictions 🪐
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In astrology, Saturn restricts us and usually comes from our childhood traumas. [Edit] Sometimes, In Roman mythology, Saturn was related to time and harvest, in Greek associated with Cronus the titan, Zeus (Júpiter). He knew that one of his children would defeat him. So, he decides to eat each of his children, basically, he restricts them from living.
There is no surprise that our placement regarding Saturn presents delays and restrictions. These restrictions come from authority figures since we are young.
Edit: I mistake Kronus and Cronus in my original publication, but phonetically in my Spanish brain it sounds the same. It's not a excuse, but here we go. Also, I did this theory while thinking in Goya's painting "Saturn eating his son"; it's quite gorish, but my original inspo / idea comes from that "Saturn" aka the painting.
⚠️Read. This post is about things that I notice about Saturn in the houses. Just take what resonates. If this post triggers you for any reason, it's okay to try to breathe and don't force it.
Furthermore, Saturn can show our restrictions due to karmic consequences. If you have Saturn retrograde, this may take longer to acknowledge.
These are possible issues, but just take what resonates.
꩜ Saturn in the 1st house: these natives were restricted in their appearance or approach to life. Others, rigorous figures dislike the way they present themselves to life. Restricted household name. Imposition of a purpose. Problems with self-image due to parental comments. People tell you how to behave and act in front of others.
꩜ Saturn in the 2nd house: they were restricted in drawing boundaries. It may be the case that the native always feels pressure to share their possessions with others. Stability and comfort were not expected. Money was too much or nonexistent. Stability over love. Poor self-esteem. Others took your time and things for their use without asking.
꩜Saturn in the 3rd house: Parents or teachers restricted the native communication. They make the individual feels incompetent or out of place, whenever they share opinions or ideas with others. Bad relationships with siblings. Siblings laugh at how they talk. Problems with words. Others tell you how "awkward" you sound or the worst thing. They make you regret expressing yourself.
꩜Saturn in the 4th house: a restricted home, this could be throughout inheritance of some sort of. Their emotions and feelings were prohibited by a mother or a maternal figure. This could also be a physical space: a small house. The 4th house is ruled by the moon. You were called "weak" or too sensitive. You should honor your traditions even if you didn't like them.
꩜Saturn in the 5th house: these people were obligated to act mature or calm. Even though they were expressive, others degraded their creativity. They were too happy or too naive. People make them feel out of place. They were told to shut up because they were too loud. People make fun of them.
꩜Saturn in the 6th house: they were exposed to overindulgence in childhood. Also, poor health habits or poverty. Their parents never limit their habits. So, now they may overwork in their health or workplace. Routines were so present that bored them or everything was spontaneously making them feel unsafe. Being organized was part of their routine. Eating was complicated. Eat guilt and shame from your parents "you should finish your meal because many people are starving"
꩜Saturn in the 7th house: power struggles and restrictive relationships and partnerships. Parents were always in conflict. People who were close neglected or ignored the native's needs. They didn't learn what companionship or equality is. Others push your boundaries, and you didn't act on it. A need to be perfect was a thing.
꩜Saturn in the 8th house: identity crisis or hiding self. They were dictated to hide due to an image. This also means someone controlling you like a possession. Sexuality was a taboo, so they restrict you from expressingyourself. Other people manage your money or possessions to leave you in fear. Hiding your fear under your bed. Religion imposition and all the issues around it. Feeling ashamed because they are "different". They put you on the pedestal and you didn't like it.
꩜Saturn in the 9th house: You were restricted from following your convictions and philosophies. Life was under a regime of education for others. Maybe, you study too much in different educational institutions. Learning was too insufficient or too exhausting. They make fear knowing things; you were constantly told to stay still. "Don't move"
꩜Saturn in the 10th house: People give you responsibilities that you didn't deserve. They make you grow up too fast. They make you aware of your persona, and now you feel restricted to feel free. Constant burnout, too. Child prodigy issues. You need to be active all the time because productivity is key to success; this constant movement makes you feel empty.
꩜Saturn in the 11th house: you were restricted to use your knowledge and compassion toward others. Your parents reprimanded you for using technology devices or you didn't have any device. People restrict your higher knowledge and being "different" was seen as bad. Also, you were pushed to be alone and be away from communities or "your people".
꩜Saturn in the 12th house: people restricted your inner essence. The unknown part that they felt was not you. Also, you were secluded from religion; either your spiritual beliefs and experience or religion restricted you, too You may lie to yourself often. Mental health was restricted too. Parental figures hide you from others.
Take care <3
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lonesilverw0lf · 3 months
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My take on the RWBY/40K idea. It’s not a ‘Jaune is a Lost Primarch’ that @guardsman-of-remnant or @the-wayward-arc have, or as thought out as @weatherman667 Astartes Chapters.
Juane was a normal guy who’s planet was destroyed. Then he decides to do something about it and potentially changes the course of the galaxy.
Jaune’s early life and world was dealt a bad hand. On a planet considered backwater, ruled over by incompetent lords, an over paranoid and self-righteous Inquisitor, continually and unrightfully drained of resources, repeatedly denied aid and due process, castigated for things beyond their control, and so on. Punished for ‘refusing to pay their tithe’ despite the fact they did pay the tithe but it was attacked by pirates. There was even a time when an enterprising farmer designed a better water pump, really all he did was find an older and better model and made more. Yet somehow the Mechanichum got wind of it and declared it Technoheresy. They destroyed every model and glassed a good swathe of the planet. Those are just a couple of many examples that Jaune was alive to experience. When everyday looks like hell, the Warp starts looking pretty good. Well between a Chaos uprising and a surprise Ork Waaah, alongside the possible threat of a Tyrranid fleet, the planet was declared hopeless and Exterminatus was ordered.
However instead of dying with the rest of the system’s population, Jaune was whisked away to another dimension. A pocket realm in-between the Materium and Immaterium. This realm was reined by a goddess yet not a goddess, who also sits in a weird in between with the materium and immaterium. Said goddess was an entity from another galaxy before the War in Heaven. She started off as just another galaxy conquering dragon, but after a few zillion years that got boring. Seeing the Old Ones and their creations she decided to observe. She’s got nothing but time, so why not? Over time she became loving, a gardener, a collector, a teacher. She doesn’t interfere with the Materium much because of her overwhelming power, and her control over the Immaterium is mostly spent keeping her corner of the galaxy protected from everything else. She’s pretty hands off and lets everyone else do their own thing, hence she didn’t take part in the War in Heaven. Or much else for that matter. She likes to watch the galaxy spin and all its different paths.
In her Library Jaune finds out the truth of the Horus Heresy, along with many other Heresies and major calamaties from alternate timelines that brought the Imperium to its knees and eventual demise. Horus Heresy, Robutian, Dornian, Lion, Erebrun, each and every Heresy and their potential variations. In a desperate bid to prevent these calamities, Jaune convinces his goddess to send himself and a motley collection of volunteers back in time to just before the Great Crusade. A Suicide Squad consisting of those that the Imperium would execute on the spot: Mutants, Abhumans, Heretics, Traitors, Xenos, Abominable Intelligence, and more. I’m sure Big E would get a laugh out of the irony.
Jaune knows that he can’t do half of what he wants to do. They can’t deal with anything big, like E’s journey into the Warp, the creation of the Primarchs and Astartes, the scattering of the Primarchs, the Great Crusade, etc. He can’t just go and tell the Emperor or Malcador about this. They won’t listen first off, and then they’ll just kill him for knowing too much, trying to play with things he has no business in, or just because Jaune refuses to kiss their asses.
He can’t just go out and pick up all the Primarchs and raise them like his own sons post-scattering. They’re scattered too far apart, their homeworlds need them in some fashion, the worlds are too big and dangerous to be looking for them, the Crew is always on the move which would be bad for their personal growth, each of them are too intelligent to not notice something’s different, they grow too fast for their limited resources, and more. Not to mention the unwanted attention they’d bring themselves from Chaos and Big E. That would spell doom in no time.
What they can do is use their knowledge of what happened and what could be to alter small yet key moments. A quick bombing run to eliminate the Butcher’s Nails factories, ensuring Corvus makes it to the surface, eliminating Kor Pheron, erasing Erebrus from the equation, keeping RG’s family alive from the deamon(Robutian Heresy story), warn and prepare several civilizations of what’s coming, plant a few bugs into each of the Primarchs’ flagships regarding certain orders, and more. These guys do not get a day off. They have to move in relative secrecy because who’s going to believe them? And those who may will likely have him killed for ‘interfering with the Emperor’s will’.
He’s met with relative success in his endeavors. Angron wasn’t implanted with the Butcher’s Nails, but with a different kind of device of similar purpose. This new set wouldn’t turn Angron’s brain to soup like the Butcher’s Nails did, this set gave him a form of split personality in the same way that Bruce Banner has with the Hulk. So Angron can be either the Stalwart Paladin type he was meant to be, or the Raging Barbarian type from canon. It’s a flip of the coin with him. Give the guy some more complexity than just rage rage rage.
It eventually comes to a point where he’s too far into the game to know what to do next. He’s changed too much to know the right call. The Primarchs are all gathered and conquering systems, so trying to do anything to them is out. Chaos has to know about his meddling by now, probably the Emperor as well. Despite the anti-aging tech, he's getting too old. His entire crew has fallen one by one. He’s the last man standing in this crusade.
Out of resources, options, ideas, allies, full of desperation, Jaune decides to throw one last Hail Mary. He calls in a favor from his Goddess, and through means that I haven’t decided on, gathers all the Primarchs in one room, locks the door, glues them to their seats, and lays it all out on them.*
He explains who he is, what his mission is, the nature and rise of Chaos, large parts of the Emperor’s plan, and all that. He tells them of all the potential futures, all the Heresies, the one where E decides to make Eye of Terror 2.0, one where all the Primarchs go balls to the wall mosh pit civil war, how each of them could/did fall, the War of Heaven, the Tyrranids, Necrons, Tau, many other subfactions, potential allies, those that would’ve been very helpful but were butchered, allies in one but not another, what E has done and his potential plans, their own half Warp entity souls, lots of history, lots of secrets exposed, what Jaune and crew have done, and so on.
He doesn’t hold anything back either. He rants on about how badly humanity has fallen, how logic and reason are replaced with fanaticism, progress with stagnation, the hypocrisy, the injustice, the stagnation and corruption of the Imperium, the bloated and rotting corpse of a once great civilization, the works. He even has a nice little partial Abominable Intelligence helping him out. It puts up all sorts of data, photos, videos, recordings, etc. to supplement Jaune’s rants. Just a little guy that gives intel like how Astartesanonymous, Majorkill, Isyanderandkoda, Livefromtheblacklibrary, Wes, and them give lore explanations.
 “But it’s only one guy who did a cute trick of keeping us in our seats and talks a lot, why should we believe him?” Sorry to do this to you Sanguinius, but he just casually drops the fact that your legion suffers from the Blood Thirst in front of everyone. The thing that you fought so hard to keep quiet from everyone and only a few even within your Legion knew about? Yeah that’ll get your attention, along with everyone else’s given how badly you react. Dropping a couple less dangerous secrets from the Lion’s assortment of secrets is also on the table. Pretty sure Alpharius wouldn’t mind getting pointed out as the actual first Primarch recovered, #sarcasm. He drops a little skeleton from each of their closets in front of everyone.
Suffice to say he isn’t going to be invited to any family cookouts after this.
He calls out each of them on their critical failures, dangerous shortcomings, hypocritical mindests, how easily they fell to Chaos, all the ways Papa E screwed up and is still screwing up, and more. All while calling them the stupid nicknames the Crew used. Mufasa, Simba, Long Johnson, for the Lion. Rowboat Girlyman, Bobby G, Robot Gorrillaman, for Robute. Fido, Balto, Scruffy, for Leman. And so on. He only calls them by their proper names once, at the very beginning when he was introducing himself and being respectful.
Is it smart to insult a room of the most powerful people in the galaxy and their daddy? Or talk down to them like the emotionally immature people they are? No. If it weren’t for the Goddess favor pinning them to their seats and disabling their gear and abilities he’d be dead and he knows that. They try to use their Primarch Aura on him, but after however long serving his Goddess he’s relatively immune to it. And he’s in such a IDGAF mindset that the most they get out of him is a raised eyebrow. It’d take one of the Chaos Gods’ or the Big E’s aura to really make him shake.
However pointing out flaws without a solution is just bitching. He gives credit where credit is due. He offers help and suggestions to a lot of their problems. He asks everyone to start appreciating Perty a little more, tells the Prophecy duo to get together and speak with some Farseers about their visions, commends the achievements of the Builder Brothers and ways to make their stuff even better, etc. He gives them self-help books, some psychiatric care books, and some insights from various sources to help out with some of their more human problems. God knows E isn’t helping them out with any of this.
Jaune had the foresight to make volumes of his findings. He drops many encyclopedias worth of books in front of them, all scaled up in size for their convenience. They hold everything. Names, dates, quotes, specifications, supply lines, blueprints, maps, numbers, persons of interest, items of interest, planets of interest, deamons of interest, xenos of interest, xenos that are beneficial to the galaxy and the Imperium, xenos that Leman can have fun exterminating, xenos that must be protected, xenos that can be uplifted, xenos that are up in the air, events that could happen, things that Jaune prevented from happening, nothing was left out. Not just books pertaining to the Primarchs and their dealing with Chaos, as both opponents and slaves to it, either. He also dumped books detailing events from the various futures for the next 10 millennia. Greatest victories, worst defeats, the breaking of the Legions, Successor Chapters, betrayals, redemptions, plots, plots within plots, the power of Faith, the detriments and benefits of groups like the Inquisition and Ecclesiarchy, the strength of character in Xenos races, and on and on and on. The Primarchs have quite a bit of reading to do.
Don’t worry Lemon Rush, you can still have your fun hunting down Xenos. Here’s a stack of books detailing all those filthy Xenos that are detrimental to the Imperium and galaxy at large! This lists where they are, what danger they pose, what their biology is, how best to kill them, and so on. Have fun!
Guilliman, here’s a stack for you regarding Xenos that are good guys that could use a hand. Vulcan, here’s a buncha worlds that could really use your more human touch. Horus, these worlds are major players so will be better won with your diplomacy. And so on.
So what is the Primarchs reaction? Do they accept the things he’s said? Do they bring this intelligence to the Emperor and Malcador? Do they take a hard look at themselves and decide to do better? Do they throw themselves at the feet of Chaos? Do they slow down the Crusade to better reinforce the reclaimed worlds? Do they help each other overcome their weaknesses and petty grievances so Chaos has less of a foothold on their souls? Do they exacerbate their flaws? Do they watch each other’s backs for Chaotic influence? Do they start training their Sons in Astartes vs Astartes combat? Astartes vs Chaos combat? Do they purge the corrupt members of their legions? Do they decide to eradicate the dangerous Xenos while uplifting the benevolent ones? Do they go hard in ways to better the Imperium? Do they become the mindless tools that E wanted them to be? Do they start to stand up to the Emperor and call him out on his shit when he needs it?
Jaune has no idea what they decided, or what any of their thoughts were. After he drops everything on them, gives them the books and AI, he walks out the door. His only thoughts were getting blackout drunk and working on the next step after the hangover. That particular conversation never left that room as far as he’s concerned or aware. He’s fully expecting any one of them to turn him into a red mist for his attitude, or a visit from the Banana Squad for a ‘chat’. He doesn’t even care what happens to him now.
He doesn’t even manage to find a bottle before he’s in trouble. He’s hit from the side, a mortal wound that kills slowly and painfully. However his attacker isn’t anyone from any branch of the Imperium. A deamon has been hunting him and his crew ever since he came back to the past. This is the thing that’s been orchestrating the deaths of his friends one by one. It’s very proud of its work and monologues like a cartoon villain. He just saved Jaune for last since he’s the leader. Something about helplessly watching as your friends are picked off as you can do nothing.
Taking this as confirmation that Jaune was doing the right thing he gets up for one last go. As noble as he is he can be a spiteful little shit, so he’s not going down without a fight. Jaune uses a single word of Enuncia to banish the demon, however his previous injuries and the power of the word kills him at the same time.
This is a good ending right? Did everything he could, gave those who hold the galaxy in their hands everything they need to keep things going right, gave a big middle finger to Chaos, the Emperor, and the demon, and died an unsung hero. Good place for retirement right?
However Jaune’s not done! The word quit doesn’t exist in his dictionary, especially when he knows that he was making a difference. Or was at least enough of a thorn in Chaos’ side to warrant a personal Demon after him. He reject’s his Goddess’ offer of a peaceful afterlife to go back for more. He’s a sucker for suffering sometimes. He crawls his way through the warp to be reborn in an Avatar type way. His DNA is identical, he holds the same kind soul and indomitable spirit, but he’s a fresh slate in everything else. The ‘current Jaune’ doesn’t know anything about the potential futures, his past lives, or any of that. The most that his original past self, the ‘original Jaune’, can do is subconsciously nudge him in what should be the right direction. Eventually the Demon, which I dub Little Timmy, comes back from the Warp to kill him again. To which Jaune’s original soul takes over in a sense, like how Ozma fights alongside his current host and body, and the two die in a draw yet again. Then he crawls back through the Warp to be reborn yet again, and so the cycle repeats.
Jaune does most everything during this series of cycles. Was an Astartes for each of the legions at least once even the Lost 2, guardsman, Commisar, Rouge trader, mechanicum, planetary lord, bounty hunter, Psyker, Blank, anything and everything as long as it wasn’t under E’s direct oversight like the Inquisition, Assassinorum, Custodes, and the like. Not to say he hasn’t tangoed with and against such organizations over the cycles.
Despite having the same face and dna, he’s missed completely by those in the know. Besides the fact his Goddess is blocking certain figures’ sight from recognizing him properly, think how just a piece of fabric over the eyes works for most heroes identities, he’s just one guy in trillions of trillions in that particular sector. They might have an idea of ‘that guy seems familiar’ in a déjà vu kind of way, but easily dismiss it. How common are blue eyed blonde dudes? The only confirmation that the Primarchs get that Jaune has been reborn again is during or after his fight with Little Timmy. Jaune leaves a message or calls them or whatever, and the original soul makes sure he calls them by one of the stupid nicknames from the chew out session. Who else would have the balls to call Ferrus Manus Tin Can Sam, or can tell the difference to know which TweedleTwin he’s talking to? Not like they can do much by the time/if they get the message, he died in the duel again. They’re lucky to find parts of his body from the fight. Little Timmy tends to desire a lot of collateral whenever possible, and Jaune isn’t always the roided up transhuman super soldier to trade blows so he has to get creative when he fights.
*As everyone else is stuck to their chairs, Jaune is standing on the table to look them in the eyes and move around easier. Also allows him to move close enough to the Primarchs to drop the reading material in front of them, but not close enough to be grabbed. It’s a funny image, but couldn’t find a spot where it would fit so here it is.
~
I have no idea where some of this should go, but I know that it should be a mess of things anyway because it’s 40K. As much as I don’t want any of the Primarchs taken by Chaos now that they have guidebooks on what to look out for and just how fucked that would be if they do, I can see a few of them falling anyway. Fulgrim for instance. I can see him taking the Laer Blade just to try and show Jaune that ‘Oh look, I guess you were wrong and I am strong enough to carry a demonic blade and not get corrupted!’ That’s the reason he talked down to you like a child, ya Purple Nurple! I love the idea of Snakegrim and Clonegrim duking it out, a duel of both loyalties and ideals. Although from what I hear from the various fangroups I’m in we probably won’t see that. Dangit GW. You’re missing a trunkful of easy money.
I’m not sure how the other Primarchs should be affected by Jaune’s meddling either. Angron was just an easy picking on how to change things up.
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pinkxlicious · 11 months
Text
Yule Ball
Part 2
Draco Malfloy
*Doesn't follow timeline*
Words: 2,017
'''
The first day of Draco's 6th year had just started. New classmates, new students, same teachers. But new students meant new blood, and new blood meant new victims. As Draco scanned the Great Hall for any unfamiliar faces, new faces to pick on... His thoughts were quickly interrupted by Dumbledore's voice from his wooden podium.
"Welcome, new and old students! This year, we have an abnormal amount of new students, of course this is not a bad thing. I am very excited to learn about every new student, I expect all students who have been here before to help guide our new scholars. I wish you all an exciting year... Now let the feast begin!" Dumbledore said with a chuckle, the old man waddled back to his seat with a satisfied smile.
"Disgusting..." Blaise mumbled under his breath, "Have you heard? We're probably all going to be separated due to the amount of transfer students and new coming students. Our classes are all gonna be filled with newbies."
Theo and Draco scowled at the thought.
"Imagine having to be some insufferable freak's personal guide because they can't find the toilets," Draco scoffed as Blaise chuckled.
"This is even worse, new students AND confused first years. The amount of questions we will be asked..." Blaise groaned in annoyance, "I hope my potions partner won't be some incompetent newbie."
Draco scoffed,
"At this point I'm just hoping for a random that's been going to Hogwarts. I'm not in the mood to be someone's tutor," Draco held his head up high with disgust at the thought of having to walk through every single step of a potion with a confused newcomer.
"Personally, Potter sounds like a good potions partner right now," Theo joked,
"You've gone mad,"
'''
Draco was overwhelmed by the amount of students in the hall. Yes, it was usually crowded, but this was different. New students flooded the halls, millions of voices asking for directions. Draco prayed for a tablemate that wasn't a new stupid student.
When Draco reached the potions classroom, he was nearly five minutes late. But he wasn't even the last one to make it into the class. At least half of the class was missing due to the hall traffic. Professor Snape looked annoyed, but he understood why half of his students were missing.
"We should've sent the rest of the student body to the bottom of the Black Lake," Snape grumbled under his breath as five new students rushed into the room. Stress painted on their face as they ambushed Snape with gushing apologies, hoping to make a good impression. Snape felt a migraine coming as he yelled at them to get to their seats.
Draco snickered and checked the seating chart. He suddenly felt his body freeze, an unfamiliar name was written in ink right next to his name. His head rose and turned to his table, and he suddenly released a breath of relief. He hadn't recognized the name, but he knew the face... a little too well.
He had seen this face in the hall, he had only gotten quick glimpses of her. But he had a slight hallway crush on her. He knew nothing about the details about her, the only part of her that he knew was her face. He knew nothing about what house she was in, her name, her friends, nothing. He glanced down, hoping to see a Slytherin uniform, but his hopes were quickly crushed by a black and yellow tie and Hufflepuff crest.
She was speaking quietly to Harry Potter, which instantly made his blood boil. His mind searched for possibilities for why she would be speaking to such a lame loser. He walked to the table confidently and placed his items down on the table with a loud slap. She barely flinched and ignored him, but Harry didn't.
"Quit your staring, Potter, or I'll knock your teeth out," Draco snapped in annoyance, as Harry began to retort Snape slammed his hands on his table and the classroom went silent.
"You will be doing textbook reading and you will fill out this 50 question paper about the polyjuice potion. If you do not finish it by the end of class, its homework," Snape said lazily, already exhausted from the start of the day.
"Who even are you," Draco said, masking his curiosity with annoyance and disgust.
"I'm Y/n L/n. And you are?..."
Draco scoffed,
"Draco Malfloy, do you not know?"
"No I don't" She replied simply, and just as she began to open her textbook, Draco slammed it down.
"Well I've never seen you before," Draco taunted, "you're just another Hufflepuff nobody, is that right?"
"Yes, I suppose I am," She said, attempting to take back her textbook, but Draco kept his hand firm on the back of the book, keeping it in place. "What's your issue?"
"My issue is that I'm paired with a filthy mudblood Hufflepuff nobody. I deserve a better potion's partner, I need someone who can actually read." Draco sneered, silently regretting his harsh words. But there was no going back with his 'bad boy' facade. It would be so pathetic of him to suddenly apologize for his behavior. He was Draco Malfloy! He never apologized to anyone, and she is no different, so she didn't deserve any special treatment.
"Okay, then take that up with Professor Snape. I didn't choose the seats, therefore it is NOT my fault," She grew irritated by his insults, although she tried to calm herself down. Not wanting to let him have the satisfaction of her reaction.
"Well yo-"
"SILENCE," Snape boomed, "If either one of you two utter a SINGLE word again its detention for the whole week. I have enough of this bickering and it is ONLY the first day."
She glared angrily at Draco and shoved his hand away from her textbook and began working. The presence of her hand lingered on Draco's hand as he attempted to hide the butterflies dancing in his stomach. He decided that he would try to get her attention, he liked seeing her mad, and he just wanted to look at her.
He kicked her leg and her breath hitched slightly,
"Hey" Draco whispered, "Hey!"
"What?!"
"Give me a pencil,"
"No,"
"Wh-"
"DETENTION," Snape roared, she side eyed him with anger.
"Now look at what you've done," She tugged on her tie, "I literally hate you."
'''
Draco? Draco!" Blaise waved his hand in front of his face as Draco flinched,
"What?" He snapped, his train of thought was suddenly lost.
"You've been staring at that girl for like five minutes. Kind of creepy,  eh?" Blaise snickered as Draco swatted his hand from his face.
"I have not, I don't even know who you're talking about,"
"Y/n L/n? Literally the finest girl in Hogwarts? How have you NOT heard of her, half the student body asked her to the Yule ball already. I heard shes considering going with that one Durmstrang dude," Theo butted in,
"Victor Krum?" Blaise asked, Draco's face nearly dropped as his veins exploded with jealousy.
"No not him, some other kid, he goes to Durmstrang but hes not Krum," Theo explained, "I heard Harry Potter was asking her in potions today."
Draco let out a breath, proud of himself that he interrupted their conversation earlier before class started.
"Are you gonna ask her out, Draco?" Blaise asked smugly as he watched his friend's face.
"I- no, why would I?" Draco said scoffing, "I already argued with her in potions, why would I switch up so suddenly."
"Sure, acting like you weren't just drooling over her five seconds ago,"
"Shut up you prick,"
'''
Later that night in detention, the two were furiously scrubbing the already dirty cauldrons.
"This is all your fault," Draco scoffed angrily, as her eyes widened with disbelief.
"How are you blaming this on me? You kept on bothering me, of course we got detention. You can't keep a hold of yourself," She snapped back,
"If you had just given me a pencil instead of arguing with me, none of this would've happened," Draco said flatly, secretly enjoying talking (arguing) with her.
"Why would I give you a pencil if you started your first impression by being rude to me,"
"Oh please, I was doing you a favor by waving away that Potter fellow for you," Draco said smugly as she shook her head.
"You're ridiculous, and have you not forgotten about how you insulted me like five times," She looked at him, "What did I even do to you? I know you're a bitch but I've literally never spoken to you in my entire life."
Draco was slightly caught off guard, he didn't have an answer. What was he supposed to say? 'I'm only mean to you because I'm too afraid to be nice to you and let my guard down.' Absolutely not.
"Your presence annoys me,"
"That's real sweet, Malfloy,"
"Thank you, love,"
She stared at him for a second before brushing off the nickname, ignoring the fact that made her heart increase it's speed.
'''
As the sky darkened so did the classroom, the two were nearing the last few cauldrons as they were nearing their last straws with each other.
"I can't stand you! You're so stuck up and I don't understand how you have a whole dog pack following you everywhere!?" Y/n shouted as he yelled back.
"Oh I'm insufferable? Look at you! You're so obsessed with being nice and good to people, do you know how lame that is? You're such an insufferable love bug Hufflepuff," Draco sneered,
"Is that supposed to offend me? You spend your free time bullying people! Who's the pathetic one now?" She shot back as she threw down the dirty sponge, she finally finished her last cauldron as did Draco. She began to stand up but Draco snatched her wrist and stood up with her. He got close to her.
"This isn't over mudblood," he hissed as she kept the eye contact,
"You think I'm scared of you? I'm not even muggleborn, you have no idea what you're talking about," She whispered, the tension in the room was thick as the two stayed in the close contact position before she backed away.
"Aw, you couldn't handle a simple staring contest?" Draco taunted, pouting his lips in mockery.
"Ugh, you're so immature. I truly despise you," She said irritatingly as she slammed the door on her way out.
'''
For the next few evenings, the two spent hours cleaning dirty cauldrons and potion bottles. Y/n had gotten used to his stupid comments and insults. She just tuned him out as he grew annoyed at the fact that he wasn't getting a reaction from her anymore.
"Hello?? Can you even hear me?" Draco asked annoyed,
"Yes I can hear you," She mumbled,
"I asked you a question," Draco said as he rolled his eyes,
"And what was that?"
"I asked if you were going to the Yule ball,"
Her head perked up,
"Yes, I am. Are you?" She asked curiously,
"Uh, yeah," he coughed, "Are you going with anyone?"
"Yeah, why are you asking?" she said cocking her head to the side, unsure where the conversation was going.
"Just making conversation," He grumbled, disappointed by his response. "I haven't really talked to anyone other than you for the past few days, so I figured I would make conversation before I went insane from boredom."
"Hm, are you going with anyone?"
"Typically, I don't but I'm going with Pansy Parkinson. She wouldn't lay off unless I said yes," He said annoyed, "She's so insufferable, even worse than you."
"You're so snarky," She responded, "Pansy's pretty, do you know what you're gonna wear?"
"Just a tux, who are you going with?" He asked disinterested, waiting for a name of some lame nobody.
"Well, it was a hard decision-"
"Why, you have so many suitors?" Draco scoffed,
"Yes, I actually do, jealous?" she teased, smiling a bit.
"Never, just tell me who it is,"
"You were the one who interrupted! Whatever, I'm going with Blaise Zabini, he's real charming. I don't know why I haven't noticed him before," she said as Draco's eyes widened.
"Blaise?" He said, taken aback, "He's one of my friends, I didn't know he was into you."
"I didn't either, I didn't even know he knew I existed,"
"Should've stayed that way," Draco huffed, growing jealous and a bit angry. He was going to have a talk with Blaise later.
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suratan-zir · 6 months
Text
rambling about language, rats and dreams..?
Recently, for the first time in two years, I had to speak Russian. I had to remember how to speak Russian, or rather how to write in Russian. The things I do for love for my rats...
explanation for those who doesn't know me too well: I was born and raised in the eastern Ukraine (the so-called Donbas), in a Russian-speaking environment. Studied in the "Russian" school, which means that all subjects, except for Ukrainian language and literature, are taught in Russian. Everyone around me spoke Russian. People there can understand and speak Ukrainian, obviously, as everyone in Ukraine does. But it's not used in everyday life, due to the years of russification.
Then, as soon as we moved from Russian-occupied Donetsk, a few months before the invasion, we (my husband and I) completely switched to Ukrainian. We didn't want to have anything in common with those people. (and after the invasion, many Ukrainians also made this choice)
Anyway, one of my rats, Krobus, has a disease unknown to mankind. In all the years of keeping rats, I have never been in such a situation. Something makes it difficult for him to breathe through his nose, yet it is not a respiratory infection. His lungs are fine, he doesn't sneeze too much, doesn't have a runny nose etc. No antibiotics, nebulizer inhalations and even corticosteroids have any effect whatsoever. Vets specializing in rodents don't know what to do. Most likely, it's some kind of growths in the nasal passages.
After a lot of trial and error, incompetent and idiotic advices, I decided to contact our old and trusted vet in Donetsk. But I didn't want to explain to her why I switched languages, I didn't want to have any political discussions, especially with Krobus' health being at stake. So I had to write all the messages to her in Russian. And it was HARD. I don't mean like morally hard. No, plainly hard. I kept mixing up prepositions, word endings, etc., and generally had a tough time finding the right words.
You don't understand how huge this is. I don't know how to explain… Russian wasn't just a simple tool for me. I used to write poems and prose, long letters and essays. My favorite author was Russian. (Nabokov, probably the least Russian Russian but still). In my school years I was that one annoying girl whom the Russian teacher used as an example for others or selected for language competitions to represent the school/town. I know you can't tell that from my shitty English, because the teaching of English in Ukraine and Russia is generally at a terrible level, to the point that English teachers often barely speak English themselves.
Losing it, a giant part of my identity, one of my very few skills…it should feel terrible. But it's fucking amazing! Trying to speak Russian and sounding weird? Wonderful! Trying to write in Russian and forgetting the correct spelling? Fantastic!
In the modern world, learning new languages is a very common practice. But trying to forget a certain language? Now that's a somewhat unique experience that is now shared by so many Ukrainians. Not all of us give up the Russian language for moral or ethical reasons, although many do. And not only in order to correct injustice and the consequences of years of colonization. For some of us, the Russian language is simply a trigger for our trauma. It's a reminder of the pain Russia is subjecting us to. When Russian missiles fly over our heads, at least in they can't penetrate our minds. Eh, it wasn't supposed to sound this pretentious. Ew.
This whole language-switching thing confused my brain a little bit and now I dream mostly in English. So that's a fun side-effect? I don't know why not in Ukrainian though.
In case you're wondering, no medication is helping Krobus still. He feels and acts fine, it's not getting significantly worse for many months, but nothing makes him better. We'll keep trying.
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drdemonprince · 9 months
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How do you feel about “weaponized incompetence”
I see a lot of people talking about it, and I know it can definitely be a thing that people do purposefully, but so many things that fall under the umbrella seem like things that some neurodivergent people tend to struggle with.
I don't think a person needs to be consciously or intentionally weaponizing incompetence in order to leverage it for their benefit. Due to forces like systemic sexism, sometimes a weaponized incompetence dynamic plays out without anybody meaning it to.
Now of course, weaponized incompetence is absolutely a dynamic that some people deliberately create (famously, a husband or boyfriend knowingly washing the dishes poorly so his partner never asks him to do it again), but more often than not, it's the byproduct of capitalist overwork and alienation meeting sexist norms that play out on an intuitive level rather than some malicious, evil plan.
My ex-partner absolutely benefitted from weaponized incompetence; he was also almost certainly an undiagnosed ADHDer who was struggling, and not a bad guy. From my perspective, it didn't matter. I still ended up having to pay the bills, sign us up for all the utilities, figure out a new place to live three different times when our rent went up, hire the movers, remind him to get a new ID when his old one was expired and we had a flight coming up, find him a dentist when his tooth was aching, help him write emails for his work when he first got a job, ask him to clean things rather than being able to trust he would contribute, make all the decisions regarding decluttering the house, take care of our pet, etc etc etc.
He deserved more help than he ever got, as a (very likely) disabled person living under capitalism. But I also covered him and shouldered his life burdens in a way that made me miserable and offloaded a lot of his responsibilities onto me. It drove me nuts and made me dysphoric to admit it, but a large part of how we wound up in that dynamic was systemic sexism, because he was a cishet man and I wasn't.
All that said, and my considerable real-life biases having been put on the table, I do think it's the case that many disabled people are unfairly accused of 'weaponizing incompetence' when all that they've done is express a limitation as clearly as they possibly could, which ought to be a good thing. There is nothing wrong or manipulative with asking for help, or for articulating what you are and are not capable of as honestly as you can. (And this honest communication piece was absent in the relationship I am describing; he wouldn't even acknowledge that he wasn't and could not contribute to maintaining a life together in any practical way. When I tried to name that dynamic, he would shut down, walk away, say things were going to change without any plan for how that might happen, etc).
In much the same way that an excited Autistic person who is infodumping or communicating super clearly in order to be helpful can be unfairly branded a "mansplainer", lots of disabled people are seen unfairly as manipulative, lying about their limitations, taking advantage of other people, lazy, and weaponizing incompetence.
The trope of the fake disabled person who is just gaming the system cuts deep. It's pervasive and it's responsible for a lot of social problems that disabled people face, from impossibly difficult benefits applications programs, to cruel teachers who refuse to provide the accommodations to which their students are entitled, to abusive and neglectful partners who fail to meet their disabled loved one's needs. Arguably I even was one of those partners, even if I did have genuine reasons for grievance and very real disabilities of my own.
The reality is that the lines between all these things can be blurred, as a person's intent and their impact can be wildly different. people who are doing their best can still leverage sexism and leave a partner feeling taken advantage of. And a partner who feels taken advantage of can have real reasons for feeling that way and can also still be ableist, or even cruel and unfair to their disabled loved one. it's tough.
Thanks for the great question, it is one I think about a lot for obvious reasons.
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Text
I wish the last Abbott episode showed Janine becoming a bit more disillusioned with the district due to wealth inequality between the district and the schools and made that explicitly part of her rationale for leaving along with wanting to teach because the material was right there.
For 2 seasons, the district is incompetent and the schools are completely underfunded, but then after Janine meets Manny, the district is just magically different and she can contribute to making effective change? I can see why someone with such optimism (and sometimes naivety) would believe that she could, but the district also seems to be portrayed like there are much fewer problems within it with the exception of the superintendent or a bit of pushback with paperwork. But this last episode showed more than ever how the district really hasn't changed because they give the benefits to themselves. Why did Janine magically get a new Apple computer when she had a perfectly good laptop the same day the superintendent said that all plans for the schools needed to be free? How can Simon afford a condo when Janine could barely afford rent last season? Why do the district employees get way better healthcare than the teachers? Janine's negative reactions to this info are shown to be more about her simply not wanting to work there because she wants to be at Abbott with her students than the inherent unfairness.
I wish instead of her just showing up at Avafest, that she had a moment where she called out the district at her party for prioritizing themselves over the students and teachers. In season 2, Janine wants to use the rest of the little grant money they have for a laptop because the school doesn't have ANY that the kids could use. It would be the perfect callback if she pointed out that fact that the district gave her one she didn't even need without even asking.
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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 3 months
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⬇ What I've Been Reading Recently! [In No Particular Order]⬇
Rivers and Roads (Rivers Till I Reach You) Series by peterparkersbff @pbpsbff
[Series Description and Notes] Zombie Apocalypse, No Powers AU centered on Peter, Tony, and Rhodey (But if we're being honest, it's pretty Peter-centric)
Updates will likely be posted out of order, but will be reordered so they are in preferred reading order. I'd recommend reading in series order.
Peter Benjamin Stark Series by MoonBoo
[Part 1, Stars Align Summary] Pepper is concerned about Stark Industry's image and organizes a tour for a group of orphans. It's during this tour that Tony meets a five-year-old Peter Parker, who is mute due to the trauma of witnessing Ben and May dying in a robbery, and realizes they're soulmates.
Time Brings All Things to Pass by MsWinifredQuale
Tony feels like he's in a good place right now. He's got a great fiancee, a makeshift but settled little family, and he's even in a fairly ok place with the former Rogues.
So naturally the universe decides to throw him some curve balls, when he gets a call one morning from the police claiming they've just picked up Howard and Maria Stark from the side of the road.
And that's not the only time-related event about to unfold.
Tony really hates time travel.
[Also includes de-aged Peter Parker]
Please obey the signs by Bergen
“This young man claims to have been invited by you personally.” Tony has learned to read Happy’s expressions. That one is disapproval, and it’s highly familiar. “Peter is helping me out in the workshop today.” “Why?” “Uh.” Tony has enough presence of mind not to carelessly throw Peter’s alternative identity around. “He won a competition.” Happy’s expression flickers, grows tense. “I did not approve any competition that included a trip to Avengers Tower.” “Okay. Well. If we had theoretically organized a competition, he would definitely have won it.” - Tony’s life lately has been a perfect storm of incompetence. But perhaps he can get some solid spiritual advice from a mischievous teenager with a secret identity he meets by the side of the road one evening, like a lucky little leprechaun. If only Happy would stop being so paranoid about Tony inviting a random kid into Avengers Tower, sheesh.
The Chill Factor by Tashie
5 Times Peter's thermoregulation caused issues +1 Time Others tried to do something about it.
Broken Thoughts (I Remember Everything) by blackwatchandromeda (avenris)
"Peter, who am I?"
He hesitates. "I'm sorry. I... I don't know."
Peter Parker has been missing for thirty-six days. When Tony Stark finally finds him, he's wandering around New York with no memories, unaware of where and who he is. The missing month is a mystery, and nobody knows what happened to him - least of all the kid himself.
Peter, meanwhile, is trying to piece together who he was. What doesn't help is the big secret he's sure Tony is keeping from him, or the way the man is avoiding him.
Nobody notices how the missing month is catching up to them until everything goes wrong.
(Not Infinity War compliant, but takes place after Civil War.)
When spiders tour their houses, chaos ensues by pirateninja9
"I am very pleased to announce that we’ve been invited for an overnight tour at Stark Industries.”
Join Peter and his Academic decathlon team on a chaotic field trip to the Stark Industries. Featuring a bullying teacher and student, a confused tour guide and many Avengers shenanigans. With luck like his, Peter should have known this would be as far from a normal tour as possible.
Mugs Are A Problem (I Do What I Want) by JAWorley
It’s not usually a problem. Tony doesn’t usually have to work so hard to hide it because Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey know. He can be himself around them. Right after the compound had been built, Tony had been worried about moving in with the Avengers full time… worried they’d notice his tics and figure out his secret. Then Germany had happened and the team had split up before they could fully move into the compound. Tony had had two years where he hadn’t needed to worry about it. Now that the Rogues are back and are living in the tower full time, it’s on his mind again and stressing him out. The problem? Coffee mugs. Well… coffee mugs, and other things and the fact that when he’s stressed out, the tics get worse. But mainly coffee mugs. Coffee mugs are the bane of his existence. OR Tony has Tourette Syndrome and he doesn’t want the Avengers (or Peter) to find out about it. The newly returned Avengers think Tony is just being a jerk when he knocks things off of tables and counters, because they think he’s doing it on purpose. Despite the angsty summary, this is all about the team coming back together and Tony learning that the people in his life can’t accept him as he is until given the chance to know him as he is.
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willsimpforanyone · 9 months
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I just remembered this prompt from wattpad or Tumblr and that it's good for angst.
Request for a Brother!reader x Percy Jackson, where the reader is slowly getting tired of always just being compared to Percy (about how he did so much while the reader just did small things for camp) which leads to reader holding some animosity towards Percy, so he just run away due to Percy not saying or even noticing what's happening to his brother leaving Percy to be sad and wishing he could've been there to stop some of the comparison
(sorry if this was too long, also, you can decide what happens to the reader after running away)
thank you for requesting!
----------------------------------
I stared at my reflection. I don't look much like Percy. Less muscled, for sure, but when one of us has ten times the life experience of the other, that's bound to happen.
I don't even know if I look like my dad; my mom always said I had his nose, a strong, Grecian nose. Both Percy and I have his eyes, though mine have always been... more muted, like the ocean in December.
"Hey, c'mon, we gotta practice."
Percy's voice filtered through the door of the bathroom and I sighed, zipping up my hoodie and throwing the hood over my head. "Yeah, yeah, like you need the practice."
He threw his arm around my shoulders and grinned at me. "Okay, then you gotta practice so I don't have to cover your ass every time there's a battle."
I ducked my head and elbowed him. He backed off, laughing, and I kept my eyes to the ground to hide my scowl. He didn't mean it, I know he didn't, but it still pierced through my ribs, icy and sharp.
There were about a dozen people in the amphitheatre, choosing weapons, slashing at dummies and each other. Percy uncapped Riptide, bronze blade gleaming in the midday sun, and gestured for me to unsheath my own weapon. I pulled out my shortsword from it's sheath at my side, the enchanted iron a familiar weight in my hand.
Already there were whispers surrounding us; watching Percy fight was a spectacle for a lot of campers. I doubted it even mattered that he was just here to help his incompetent brother, they were waiting to see him kick someone's ass. In this case, it would be mine.
I took a deep breath, shaking off some of the negativity. This was Percy, who I trusted to be able to resist the siren call of a performance in favour of actually being a good teacher. It shouldn't matter that there were more people here than there were a minute ago, he was here for me.
That gave me a little encouragement, and I faced him, sword at the ready. He grinned at me, and I managed a smile back. "Come on then, Jackson, what're you waiting for?"
He lunged forward and I swiftly sidestepped, slashing towards his arm. My sword hit against his armour and he spun round, aiming for my side. I could tell he was taking it easy on me, giving me a chance to learn to anticipate his moves.
I was almost having fun. For a moment, it was just me and my brother, the way it was when we first came to camp. I remember being terrified I would never see him again each time he was sent off on a quest, that I would lose my brother forever but he always came back, eventually.
For a split second, I gained the upper hand, pushing Percy back from the assault and attacking rather than defending. Swordplay had never been my strong suit, but I was good enough.
Until somehow he slipped under my arm, dodging the mad swing I made for him and twisting so he ended up with Riptide at my throat from behind. Both of us were panting, and I realised I really should have taken my hoodie off before I started fighting.
There was a cheer from around us, and Percy took his blade away from my neck, clapping me on the shoulder. "Maybe next time," he panted, backing away slightly. I made to turn and reply, but Percy was already swamped, younger campers and friends congratulating him. Annabeth sauntered over to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Don't know why they're so excited, it's not like it was a difficult fight." She said it quietly, in his ear, but I heard it anyway. Percy just laughed, and pecked her lips.
I was torn- I tried! I tried to fight him properly, I swear, it wasn't an easy fight, at least I don't think so. Even if it was, why should he get all the praise and attention? No one else other than Annabeth was willing to fight him, I was holding my own against him.
I shrunk in on myself, hiding as much as I could in my hood, and slipped away from the amphitheatre. My sword tapped against my leg in it's sheath as I slunk back to the Posiden cabin. I shut the door, not bothering to lock it behind me; it's not as if anyone would come looking for me now wonder boy was outside.
Rooting around under my pillow, I withdrew a photo. It was a couple years old now, creased in the middle. I traced the fold lines, time separating me from my mom. She died trying to protect me from a monster that came to kill me when I was 12. I still have some of her things, everything else was burned down with the house.
My mouth tasted bitter as I remembered that Percy, only a year older than me, had found me and taken me to camp in the middle of the school year. I'd idolised him, and for a while we were inseparable until he kept being chosen. He was special, he was the one sent on quests and given power and was more connected to our dad that I would ever be.
I took a shuddering breath, looking down at my mom and feeling that gnawing, craving ache of grief; for her, for never knowing my dad, for feeling like I was losing the only other family I had.
There was a noise outside, a few feet from the door. I snapped my head up, eyes watery. From what I could hear, it was a couple of kids, no older than 8 years old.
"That's Percy Jackson's cabin!"
"Whoa, cool! He has a whole cabin all to himself?"
"No, dummy, his brother lives there too, duh."
"He has a brother? I didn't know that."
"Did you know he defeated Ares when he was like, 12? That's so cool."
They walked away, fully invested in their hero worship of my brother. People didn't even know I was his brother? Maybe they were new, they didn't know anyone, it wasn't fair to be angry at them for something out of their control.
They knew him, though.
That voice was insidious, echoing in my skull. They might have been new, but they knew who Percy Jackson was.
I folded the photo back up, and went to put it back under my pillow. Slowly, I reached into the drawer of the bedside table, pulling out a notebook and slipping the photo into the middle of it.
Without even really meaning to, I found my backpack stuffed into a corner. I scanned the room for my stuff, acknowledging that it couldn't all fit in my bag. Didn't matter, I didn't need much.
Some of my clothes went into the bottom of the bag. The contents of my bedside table was packed, a couple toiletries, as much as I could fit. I changed my shoes, finding a sturdier pair than the ones I was wearing.
I needed food. It was about lunchtime, I could grab some stuff and give an offering to Posiden for safe passage or something. Not that he'd be much help. I found a plastic box from somewhere and hid it in my clothes. I was out and back in 20 minutes, ignoring the few attempts at conversation. The plastic box was filled with food, and I swiped a cannister with water from a table.
I waited until it was dark, the sun just dipping below the horizon and painting the sky in dusky pinks and purples. Everyone would be getting something to eat after a long day at camp. Perfect.
The door shut quietly behind me, backpack slung over my shoulder and my sword at my hip. I should be able to get out unnoticed if I cut through the forest, and I slipped into the shadows of the trees.
A cough came from by my side.
I jumped a foot in the air and swore loudly, clapping a hand across my mouth a little too late. Nico di Angelo was leaning against a tree, dark hair not quite hiding his judging look.
No, not judging. Curious.
Feeling a little under the microscope, I let him take in everything about me- there was no reasonable explanation as to why I'd be here.
After a painful minute of silence between us, he shrugged. Reaching into a pocket, Nico tossed me a piece of plastic; a phone.
"Someone should know where you are."
I nodded and Nico seemed to melt into the shadows of the trees. I was alone, actually alone. Maybe I should have been worried he would immediately run to Percy or Chiron, but I trusted him. He didn't try to stop me, it seemed like he just wanted to make sure I didn't die.
Which, in a weird way, is the most caring thing anyone's ever done for me.
I steeled myself, slipping the phone into my pocket. I couldn't see the barrier that kept camp safe from here, but I knew I'd know once I passed through it.
Deep breaths. Let's get out of here.
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ooo i love writing angst, thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoyed!
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