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#latino baby doe
dyketubbo · 5 months
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as much as i adore roier looking through pepitos tag to see people nearly justify how roier treats pepito makes me ever so slightly insane as a victim of abuse
#negative#pressing my fingers to my temples its ok theyre video game characters mask theyre not real 🩷#'roiers right to feel suspicious of the new eggs being federation distractions' they are Babies.#'the chancla is just funny latino culture' its a part of black culture to joke about moms and dads getting out the belt#it still isnt good to hit your child. esp not a young one. theres a diffurence between roier and bobby roughhousing#and roier punishing pepito and thats a part of the Point#its ok to like characters who do bad shit i promise you#as much as the my blorbo does no wrong everything is excusable jokes are funny#roier and pepitos dynamic is as dapper puts it. child abuse#your fave is reacting to trauma in a horrible way and turning it outwards to hurt his new very young child#and it is ok for him to still be your fave. live in peace knowing no one is allowed to judge you for this 🩷#but also i can and will judge ppl for acting like reasons = justifications 🩷 he has reasons not justifications#and similarly as i want to be respectful towards other ppl who grew up poor/maybe still are#and acknowledge that yeah sunnys jokes can feel shitty to hear#i wanna say that downplaying what pepito goes through can also feel shitty for abuse victims to read and hear#pepitos a child. ultimately it doesnt matter what the federation intended with the new eggs#or if pepito was Intended to be a bobby replacement or if roier is afraid to get attached#pepitos a child and pepito deserves a parent who can every day look pepito face to face and say they love pepito#'roier didnt ask to be a parent' pepito didnt ask to be his child either.#mask mews
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dtkqer · 4 months
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like can we be honest for once. q is kinda very white passing
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allbark-no-bite · 6 months
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cowboy up.
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jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.6k)
summary: Jake’s a tease. and a cowboy. it makes your friends sick
warnings: really none i think, just talk of and allusions to sex
authors note: very loosely based off of “Dirty Looks” by Lainey Wilson. it got me into the mood to write a little something. briefly mentioned that reader is Ice’s daughter
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"Well hello, mi cowboy."
It's the deliciously sensual roll of the endearment off of your tongue that has Jake hooking two fingers through the loop of your jeans and tugging you firmly into his side as he approaches the bar. It starts up an engine-like rumble in his chest that travels up his throat and catches, vibrating while he bows down to kiss you. Just the sight of your sweet smile has the weariness of the day melting off of him.
El cowboy, you mother had appraised with great enthuse the first time you had brought Jake home, and he greeted her with his smooth as honey southern drawl. Being Latino and having grown up just along the border in El Paso, her English was still licked with Spanish flare and it made everything she said sound rivetingly amorous. Even after three years of dating, she still widely referred to him as the cowboy—your cowboy.
"Hey, darlin'. Sorry I wasn't here sooner. There were some mechanical issues with my plane and I couldn't get away," he apologizes, hence the grease stains on his hands. He had probably only taken the time to change into a fresh set of clothes before leaving base and driving straight to the Hard Deck.
You only hum, tipping your head up to steal a second kiss before he straightens. "Glad you're here now."
Jake has to stop himself from chasing your lips for a third. Penny's warned him about getting too frisky at the bar. It's not his fault when you taste like strawberry margaritas and are wearing those jeans that you know drive him crazy.
But when he looks over his shoulder, Penny's sliding him an ice cold beer from across the bar. "This one's on the house, Seresin." The gleam shining in her eyes tells him that she's caught the two of you but is going to let it slide this time.
When he opens his mouth to argue, already digging his wallet out of his pocket, she shakes her head. "Looks like you had a long day. Enjoy the beer."
"Really, Pen, I—"
Penny's back is already turned as she heads to the other side of the bar to serving an incoming crowd of aviators.
Jake glances down to his well worn boots while his hand goes to his jaw to feel at the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. Does he really look that worn out? He has to resist the urge to smell himself.
He looks back to you, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for showing up like this. Here he is, covered in sweat and engine grease, while his own girlfriend is standing next to him, looking way out of his league. Even the Dagger Squad looks fresh and put together. It would have been hard to guess that they had all been out sweating on the tarmac together earlier in the day.
"I probably should have cleaned up," he admits, running a hand over the cropped hair at the back of his neck. He's wondering if he can at least escape to the bathroom for a minute to stick his head under the sink.
What Jake doesn't know is that you might actually kill him if he does that. There's something about the combination of his off-duty khakis and dusty boots that is making your heart flutter. The tousle of his blonde hair after a long day and ruddy flush of his already tan cheeks give off the impression that he's more than just a pretty face. He looks hard working and very, very capable.
"Jake?"
"Hmm?" he hums, having been eyeing the bathrooms, contemplating even just splashing some water on his face.
Your heart squeezes painfully when his dazzling green eyes turn back to land on yours, eyebrows raised in question, fully attuned to whatever it is that you may need. "What baby—"
He stops mid sentence when you pull him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. This time it's a much less chaste kiss than the one you greeted him with, and he gets to really taste the strawberry margarita on your lips—a bit sweet, a little salty. The taste makes his mouth tingle and he's not sure if it's you or the tequila that's making him feel buzzed.
Jake's hand immediately slips around your waist, his large hand on your back, pressing you into him. A groan slips out of him when his fingers brush the warm skin just above the rise of your jeans.
The fact that you had purposefully chosen not to wear your khakis like himself and the rest of the crew makes Jake that much more hot and bothered. It's not that he dislikes your usual naval attire, because he doesn't. He loves how it fits you, who you become when you wear it, your signature "Frostbite" embroidered on the front—the name he gave you. It's the fact he's come in, dead on his feet from working all day, and his diamond of a girlfriend is wearing an outfit she put on just for him.
Really, Jake thinks his chest might just implode.
His free hand had been holding his beer out to the side, momentarily forgotten once you'd started kissing him. Blindly, he sets it down behind him, the glass clinking against the bar top so that he can get both of his hands on you without spilling. He prefers you, the taste of your skin anyhow.
"So damn sweet," he groans into the underside of your jaw, eyes shut as he fights the urge to say fuck it and take you home now. "Could just eat you."
You laugh, fingers gripping his blonde hair. "Is that a promise, cowboy?" Jake's teeth scrape your pulse point and your fingers tighten. His body is hot pressed flushed against you, moving as you move so that the contact never breaks.
"Baby, I'd devour you," he promises huskily into your ear. Mav has been working them to the bone for the past few weeks, and Jake has hardly had the energy to climb the front steps when he gets home, much less make it to the bedroom. To say you've both been left wanting is an understatement.
His lips press wetly to your neck. "You look good, Frosty Girl. You know how much I love those jeans..."
You hum, eyes fluttering closed as Jake sends you to that place. That place where only you and Jake exist, where the worries of the day melt away, and it smells like his cinnamon oak body wash and the hint of beer on his breath. It doesn't matter than he smells slightly of sweat and jet fuel because that's just him. That's what makes him Jake.
"Mmm, you do?" Of course he does. Jake Seresin drinks the air you breathe and worships the ground you walk on. "I think you'll like what I have on under them more."
If Jake had been twenty-one again, he'd have a raging hard on in his jeans right now. After two years of dating you, he's developed a bit of self control since then. He spent a lot of lunch breaks jacking off in the bathroom the first few months. All you had to do was rub up against him climbing out the back seat of the cockpit and he was sneaking off to take care of himself before any of the Dagger squad could see the missile sized hard on in his pants.
Jake smiles, his pearly white grin pressed into your neck. His jade green eyes peer up at you with a gleam of anticipation.
"Black?" he guesses, his nimble fingertips already dipping just past your waistband to brush across the lace he knows he's going to find.
"Uhh mm," you deny, enjoying the thrill of teasing him with your secret.
His warm breath fans across your neck. "Red?"
The corners of your mouth quirk up into a look that Jake can only describe as devilish. "I figured you deserved a treat. I know you've been—" Before you can finish, Jake is kissing you. His pink lips are cool and a bit wet from the beer he's been nursing, but his tongue is hot and slick and wet and it just feels so good.
"Jesus. Get a room, you two."
Despite the roar of blood in his ears, the buzzing in his veins, Jake recognizes the sound of Bradley's voice just a table away.
Begrudgingly pulling away from the kiss, Jake doesn't release you just yet, just moves his head to look over your shoulder. He had hardly even acknowledged the Dagger Squad when he walked in, too focused on you. And maybe that's on him.
"Sorry, Bradshaw. Didn't see you there." You can tell Jake's smirking over your shoulder, hand not so slyly cupping the curve of your ass as he reaches for his beer with the other, playing at indifference. He takes a slow swig of it, unbothered by the fact that your friends -you coworkers- are all watching. "I was busy saying hello to my unbelievably sexy girlfriend."
Without breaking eye contact with Bradley, Jake plants a filthy wet kiss to the pulse point of your neck. It's enough to make the other aviator's mustache twitch and his throat constrict with a impulsive swallow. Regardless of how they acted— always at each other’s throats— there was no longer any bad blood between the two pilots. That feud had been settled on the Uranium mission last year and was replaced by new found respect, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t seize every opportunity to ruffle the other’s feathers.
"This is a public space," Natasha reminds him, as if he were unaware of the extremely crowded bar.
Jake smirks. "Oh believe me, I'm holding back for Floyd's sake. Wouldn't want to ruin his innocence."
The weapon system officer emits a noise of protest from across the table, his cheeks flashing an embarrassed hue of red. "I've already told you, I'm not a virgin!"
You giggle into Jake's shoulder at his complait, content to bask in the temporary stronghold of your boyfriend's embrace. It's nice to get moments with him like this, away from the stress of work and without the pressure of success weighing on your shoulders.
Of course your friends knew about yours and Jake's relationship, had known since the very first date, but in nearly three years of dating, they had come to the realization that they knew very little about your relationship. Work was strictly professional for the two of you and even at the bar, the most intimate thing they'd ever seen occur was Jake greeting you with a quick kiss.
"Damn, Bagman, you walking in here, kiss Frost senseless, and now she's giggling? You're telling me that's all it takes to bring her from she-devil to—giggling?" Coyote asks from behind his pool cue, sauntering over to join the group.
Jake, his green eyes gleaming, slips his warm palm under your shirt to smooth over the exposed curve of your hip. "I can make her do a lot more than giggle, Machado."
You groan, burying your embarrassingly flushed face further into Jake's neck. Although your boyfriend may be able to play the nonchalance card, you can only take so much of their teasing.
You push away from Jake before he can start full on groping you in front of your friends. If there's one thing about Jake, he has no shame when it comes to showing you off.
"I don't giggle, Javy," you stress, choosing to ignore Jake's comment.
Fanboy, who is never far behind the other pilot, saunters over and slings an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Giggle? I've never even seen you crack a smile."
Before you can respond, Jake is sliding an impossibly large palm around to cup the back of your neck, fingers digging in to the tense muscle that he knows is there. Relax, is what that means. "Careful, she does bite." He's grinning, a smug, but knowing smirk on his face. 
"Fuck, man. I knew you were into that kinky shit," Coyote quips, and it evokes a few laughs from the Dagger squad, save for Natasha, who pretends to roll her eyes. 
Jake grins. "Damn straight."
"Easy, cowboy," you warn, your eyes narrowing at him in playful warning.
You're not necessarily embarrassed by Jake's insinuation of your sex life, the two of you were well established in your relationship and you trusted your friends too much to be embarrassed by that kind of thing. It's just that being Admiral Kazanky's daughter meant that too many people assumed you had only made it this far because of your old man or that you were sleeping through the ranks, which was far from the truth. 
You deserved to be here. And Jake knows this, which is why his thumb is still massaging at the pressure point at the base of your skull, just behind your ear. Everything about him, from the reassuring smile he directs at you to his relaxed body language is him letting you know that it's all in good fun, and no one here thinks that you don’t belong here in the slightest. 
Bradley's shaking his head as he lounges against the pool table. "I don't know what I'm going to have to tell my therapist about first, the fact that Frost calls you 'cowboy' or the fact you probably get off on that shit.”
Jake grins, toothpick bobbing in his mouth as his impish smile widens. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Bradshaw?”
The truth is, he does. Behind the cool and collected facade that he’s putting up, bantering back and forth with your friends while he sips his beer, he’s just the right amount of hot and bothered that he wouldn’t mind calling it a night just to go home and have his way with you. He hasn’t forgotten about the little red number you’re wearing.
Having lost the attention of the rest of the squad to the pool table during his and Rooster’s banter, Jake shifts his focus to you. Large hand coming to rest on your back, he dips down to murmur in your ear. “Think I’m about ready to turn in, kid. What do you say we get out of here?”
Your pretty face turns towards him, and you don’t miss the gleam in his green eyes. Smiling privately to yourself, you eyes reflect his knowingly. “Rooster will never let you live it down. You only just got here.” However, that doesn’t mean you can’t be coerced.
Jake hums, his lips pressing to your temple in a kiss that’s meant to hide the fact that he’s whispering— plotting— in your ear. “I’ll buy ‘em around on the way out. They won’t even notice we’re gone,” he reasons.
You smile, turning back to the game of pool as Jake leans over you before you give him. “Go on,” you finally encourage. “I’ll follow you out.”
Grinning and all too pleased with himself, Jake slips off behind you, but not before giving an affectionate pat to your ass. You have to refrain from rolling your eyes at him.
You wait a while before discreetly making your escape form the pool table, grabbing your things as you go. Jake’s waiting for you at the door, all too pleased to see you, as though he hadn’t just five minutes before. “Made it?”
“Yeah, I don’t think they—”
“Well damn, goodbye to you guys too!” Rooster calls from across the bar. Obviously having noticed your departure, the Dagger Squad is all standing around the pool table, shaking their heads in varying levels of amused disapproval.
Payback crosses his arms. “You guys make me sick.”
Opening the door for you, Jake turns and tips his imaginary cowboy hat at them with an grin. “Sorry man. If you all will excuse me, I’ve got some riding to do.”
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babydin · 1 year
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Make A Wish - REQUEST
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ANON REQUESTED: But what if Sarah never died? And Reader was married to Joel pre-outbreak but when the outbreak happened they (Reader and Sarah) got separated from Joel and he was convinced they had both died. But then they reunite in Jackson.
- Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - Joel is dad, references to violence, domesticated af, angsty, fluff, pre-outbreak, post-outbreak, time-jumps. - 2490 words  - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! A/N: I had some song inspo with this one in the way of Zambezi by Rationale (released under Tinashe). I also headcanoned that the Miller brothers are (at least) half Latino seeing as they had two Latino actors play them. Fight me on it.
Do you remember the day the soldiers came with all their guns? 'Cause I remember begging you to leave my love, "Just run! Past the river, don't you dare look back for me my love. I will come. I will come, because you're the one."
 You knew what you were getting yourself into. Your mother thought you were insane but she didn’t know Joel Miller like you did. He was 4 years divorced when you met him with the sweetest little girl. He made it clear from the outset that he was a single father, and Sarah’s mother had left when Sarah was a baby and she wasn’t coming back “I’m tellin’ y’now because girls tend t’ cut an’ run the second they find out I’m a twofer.” he explained on the first date your best friend had set you up on. “Sarah is my number one, she is my top priority.”
You hadn’t intended to date anyone who ‘was a twofer’ as he put it, but the way he spoke about his daughter, and the way his face lit up when he did, you knew you wanted to give him a shot.   You dated, you married after two years of being together, and you had 8 years of marital bliss as a perfectly happy family before the world turned on its ass.
OUTBREAK DAY
You find Joel and Sarah in the kitchen making dinner. The Clash are playing from a vinyl record in the next room and they’re both so into it; You remember Joel telling you that Sarah had been a fan of the Clash since she was a baby.
“You should be sitting down doing nothing, birthday boy.” You tell him, swatting his rear end playfully as you lean over his shoulder to see what he’s fixing. Of course it’s a chili con carne; he was half Texan half Latino.
“And leave the cookin’ to you two? Yeah ‘cus that’s how I wanna spend the rest of my birthday… dead.”
“Hey!” Sarah drawls.
You pinch his sides and it coaxes a ticklish squeal from him.
Sarah goes to set the dinner table, singing to Joe Strummer's ongoing debate about whether he should stay or whether he should go.
There’s an almighty bang from somewhere and it’s enough to make Joel put his spoon down, “Sarah?”
You both turn around to go into the dining room but Sarah’s on her way back with a fist full of cutlery to ask the same question.
“What the hell was that?” Joel asked, “Did you drop something? Did something fall?”
Sarah shakes her head, her ringlets bounce as she does and her eyes are full of fear.
Joel’s trying to figure out if she means that or if she’s saying no because she’s scared to say yes. The second bang answers his question.
“What the fuck?” he mutters, and goes to the front door to see what’s going on. Sarah finds comfort in your arms and you rub your hand over her back and tell her it’ll be okay. You can hear commotion outside and you put one hand over Sarah’s ear and press her into your chest so she can’t hear.  You can hear Joel talking to the neighbors but you can’t hear what he’s saying, then suddenly there’s a PA urging people to stay inside.
Joel comes back after a few moments, “Military jets,” he says from the hallway as he makes his way back through the house “they just sonic “they just went supersonic, there’s somethin’ happenin’.” he doesn’t come back to you, he goes straight to the living room and turns on the TV. You don’t fully listen to what is said but you hear the words ‘risk to life’ and ‘infected’.
“Jesus fuckin’ christ.”
You jump nearly out of your skin and cling tighter to Sarah when the door bursts open and Joel’s brother Tommy runs through the house “Joelie! Joel!” He finds the two of you in the kitchen and then Joel joins you all.
“What the fuck is going on man?” Joel begs the question, leaning in to turn off the stove. The chili is ruined now, he’s sure of it.
“There are soldiers everywhere, they’re telling everyone to stay inside, but the infection is spreading like wildfire here, if we stay we ain’t got a chance in hell Joel, we have to get out of town.”
You feel Sarah’s body tremble and there’s a slight moisture that falls on your shirt and you realize she’s silently crying. If you squeeze her any tighter she might suffocate but you do anyway, just to try and shield her from the horrors that are unfolding. She had started calling you Mom when she was 9 years old, and you loved her like she was yours from the day you met,  “We can’t just leave. We can’t–” You look at Joel desperately.
Joel looks at you, and he looks at Tommy. You can see he’s torn, he needs to keep his family safe and right now he doesn’t know if leaving is the safest option or staying put is.
Should I stay or should I go? 
“Alright, let’s go.” He says finally. “Go upstairs, throw some stuff in a bag.”
“Hurry up.” Tommy adds.
  You punch him in the chest as you walk past him, holding Sarah’s hand to lead her upstairs to help her pack a bag. You try to keep her talking to distract her from the screaming, and the gunfire from the situation that has escalated outside, through the window you see a faint glow of flames and you wonder how the hell you’re even going to make it out of the town. It’s difficult for a 14 year old to whittle down the most important things in her life to one rucksack, it’s difficult for you to decide what from your 10 year relationship with Joel means enough to survive the apocalypse. Because that’s how it felt. You take your wedding photos, you take childhood photos from Sarah’s life; things like that can’t be replaced but other shit can.
You both head back downstairs and you throw Joel his bag. The vinyl has stopped and it’s now skipping but it doesn’t feel like there’s time to lift the needle. You just leave the house and cram into Tommy’s truck. Something down the street catches Joel’s eye and he gets back out again.
“Joel!” you and Tommy both yell at the same time Sarah cries out “Daddy!”
“I’ll catch you up!” he yells back.
“The fuck you will.” You mutter under your breath, getting out of the truck too, “Joel Miller!”
He stops and turns around, “Run.” he orders, looking over your shoulder at his crying daughter in the back seat of the truck, “I’ll find you.” he looks back at you, “I promise I’ll find you.”
There are soldiers surrounding you who start to scream at you to get back inside your house, their guns aimed to tell you that their threats are serious.
“I’ll find you.” 
FOUR YEARS LATER
You knew what you were getting yourself into. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you fell in love with Joel Miller and his four year old daughter. Your mother thought you were insane and maybe she was right. What you didn’t expect was for a bunch of mutant mushrooms to eat away at people’s brains and turn them into, well, there was no easier way to say it than zombies. You didn’t expect Joel to be missing, presumed dead, and to raise Sarah mostly by yourself. The people of Jackson were helpful people, they were in a tight knit community because they had no choice but to be. Where else were they going to go in a world of nothing? It had been four years since you last saw Joel. Four years, nine months and twenty nine days to be exact. You made a point to count the days because you didn’t want Sarah to ever miss a birthday. She was turning 18 now, and if the world was normal she’d be getting excited to make plans for college and register to vote - because Sarah Miller was very opinionated and had a good head on her shoulders, and she definitely would not have let her voice go unheard - but the world wasn’t normal. So you woke as you always did, tucked up together in a double bed, the morning sun illuminating the room with a golden glow and the two of you stretching like a couple of lazy house cats. “Happy birthday, baby!” You croak, pulling her closer. The older she got the closer your relationship became, it might’ve been pathetic but she was your best friend and you hoped you were hers. She wasn’t a child anymore, she was an adult (although it pained you to admit she hadn’t been a child for a long time). “Thank you.” She smiled sleepily and scrubbed her eyes. She wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for you counting down the days. “What’s your birthday wish this year?” You ask. Sarah sighed and looked over your shoulder at the photograph on your nightstand of you and Joel on your wedding day, six year old Sarah who had been a flower girl, tucked onto his hip as you all smiled into the camera. A perfect picture of a happy family. “Him.” It’s been the same wish for the last four years, and you wish you could fulfill it for her. “I know, baby. I miss him too.. More than anything actually. I don’t miss going to the movies, or grocery shopping, or parent-teacher conferences or any of the boring, mundane stuff that just doesn’t exist anymore. At least not in the capacity that it used to… I just miss him.” In an attempt to lighten the mood a little you add, “I made a cake for you last night, you want some for your breakfast?” “For breakfast?!” “It’s your birthday! And you’re an adult now.” The day passes by as the days often do, slowly and unspectacularly. On slow days nothing happens in Jackson, occasionally bandits come and try to raid the dam that powers the town but their missions are always shut down quickly by those appointed to secure it. You and Sarah are tending to the patch of vegetables you have in your front yard when you hear a voice from the entrance of the town echo “Stop right there!” Both of you look up. You can’t see what’s happening but you wish people would stop pointing their guns. You can only assume someone has wandered through the forest and found the town, the guard on the gate has stopped them in their tracks. Understandably, newcomers aren’t welcomed warmly in fear of infection. You see the person set down a rifle, and a backpack and their hands disappear from their side to, you assume, rise in surrender. You strain slightly and hear a gruff voice speak but you cannot make out words and no matter where you position yourself you cannot get a good look at the newcomer.  The guard yells for Tommy, who is always close by and your interest is piqued. You rise from your knees and your eyes scan for where Tommy is going to come from, when you find him you watch him, you study his face and you watch it fall. He points a finger at the guard, “Put your fucking gun down! Don’t you dare! Don’t you shoot!” he picks up his pace, he jogs, he runs. You start to walk and you hear a second voice yell for Tommy. It’s the newcomer’s voice. It’s familiar somehow. The two men come into view, locked in a tight embrace, you can only see Tommy but you keep walking towards them, you barely hear Sarah calling out ‘Mom’ from the swirling in your head. “Tommy?” You ask when you’re in earshot. The newcomer pries himself out of Tommy’s grip and his head snaps in your direction. A lump forms in your throat and your chest heaves so much you feel as if you could throw up. Joel. It’s him. It’s really him. He’s got flecks of silver running through his hair now, maybe a few more wrinkles. Patches of darkened skin from wounds he’s gained over the years, and a few small fresh purple bruises. You haven’t seen him cry since Sarah moved up from Kindergarten to big girl school and she was gone all day and he didn’t know what to do with himself. You thought he’d be better when she went from middle school to high school but he was just as bad then. But he was crying now. He was sobbing in such a way you wondered if he’d been alone for these years apart; you didn’t ask, it didn’t matter. He was here. You could hardly believe it. Your eyes filled with tears of joy; you had dreamed of the day that Joel might be returned to you, although you had given up hope of that ever happening, you had imagined yourself being the same sobbing mess that Joel was but you weren’t at all. Your body was vibrating with delight, and your smile was so big your cheeks were hurting. “Hi.” you whispered. That was all it took for him to drag you into his arms and squeeze you so tightly that it almost winded you. You took all of him in again, the feeling of his body against yours, his arms wrapped around you, the smell of him in your nose. “I thought I’d lost you forever.” he whispered, “I thought you’d—” he couldn’t finish that sentence, but you knew, because you thought the same of him.  “You said you’d find us. You did.” Us. Joel’s eyes open and scan the surroundings over your shoulder, you hear him sob and he pulls away from you and he runs towards her. His baby girl. Sarah starts crying as she jumps up into his arms, her limbs wrapping around him like a koala bear. It doesn’t matter how old she gets, she’ll always be his baby. You approach them and hear Joel whispering “Look at you,” as he brushes his hand over the back of her head, “my little girl, look at you.” Sarah dropped down so she could look at him too, your arms wrapped around Joel’s middle as he studied her face so carefully, his fingers delicately mapping out her features, “You’re all grown up,” he says in a chuckle, but with a hint of sorrow in his voice. “I wished for you.” Sarah tells him, her voice has more childlike innocence in it than you’ve heard in a long time. “Today is my birthday, Daddy. I wished for you.” Joel put one arm around you so he could embrace the both of you, “I always knew you were magic, babygirl.” “Are you staying here with us? Are we going to be a family again?” “No.” you answer before Joel does, much to the surprise of your husband and daughter, “Not until he’s had a shower.” Joel breathes out a sigh of relief and kisses your forehead.
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thoughtsforsoob · 2 months
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txt x latina!reader
a/n: I know some people said not to write this but I desperately want to :( I think this is really self-indulgent but I hope at least one or two people will enjoy this post and maybe find it comforting or relateable. Latina!MOA, I love you !!!
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yeonjun
the first thing that came to my head was him getting along with any siblings/cousins you may have
hispanic families are pretty big and he really enjoys being around everyone and getting to know your family
all the tias also try to steal him away from you and like to ask him all kinds of questions about his jobs
they're all impressed with him and he's all red because all the attention makes him shy
later on, they text you being all like "congrats mija, you picked a good one"
I also feel like he would want to impress your parents so badly
he wants to make a great first impression so he bring your mom a pretty bouquet of her favorite flowers and a necklace ("ay no! pesto es de marca buena!")
for your dad, he brings him a fancy liquor bottle and something else he has an interest in (he begs for your help to find the perfect gift and you're all like, "don't worry! he doesn't worry about being gifted things"
ends up buying him fancy watch and your dad is just in shock with the Rolex in his hand
he makes a great impression for say the least
you mom texts him to check on your when you haven't checked in and they even hang out by themselves when you visit home. she called him "hijito"
your dad is a little skeptical (because who's dad isn't) but eventually comes around when yeonjun invites him to a sporting event together. they have a couple drinks, get to talking and he expresses that his intentions with you are serious, which pleases your dad.
soobin
he's so shy when you tell him that your parents are coming to visit because he hadn't thought it would happen so soon
he was only doing practice schedules for that week so he was able to spend time with them when he got home
he begs you to teach him some Spanish so that he can make a good impression and try him best to connect with them, even if they also speak English.
he comes home one night and they're in the living room, you in the kitchen fixing up dinner...he's frozen but manages a small wave and a little "hola~"
your mama finds him very sweet looking and gets up, going him a hug and squishing one of his doughy cheeks.
your dad on the other hand...not very impressed...(latino dads like the mach types for their baby girls and soobin isn't very...yknow)
he notices this and walks over to shake his hand, which your dad reluctantly does
you come into the living room and call everyone for dinner, which happened to be pozole since it was super cold out
soobin loves the meal and it impresses your parents (you've been feeding him mexican dishes to prepare him for their visit and he loves them so you gave nothing to worry about)
you have to facilitate the conversation but the night ends without incident
the next day, you and soobin take your parents out to some sights
he does his best to explain where they were in the little English and Spanish he knew and you're parents appreciate his effort
he buys meals and pays for all four of you and they urge him not to but he insists because he wants to prove that he cares about them and takes care of you on the daily
they enjoy their trip and overall approve of him
beomgyu
he knew that you were hispanic when you first started dating and also begged you to teach him some Spanish so he can impress your parents when he eventually meets them
once you express your family dynamic with him, he becomes a little more understanding
he knew that you struggled to get along with your family because of the choice you'd made to move abroad but never fully understood it until one day when your parents had called you
he had just come home from filming a To Do with the boys that day and he heard you on the phone, so he sat next to you
you let him say hello and he got up and walked off to take a shower
the conversation, like it so often happens to, switch to the topic of you moving away and when you were going to come back
when you let them know you're not coming back and they you were established and had a boyfriend, your mom and dad started to get upset, once again
something a long the lines of "Hija, you can't seriously want to live there forever? What about your family? We miss you? Plus, you should really date someone a little different. Ese muchacho no es hombre."
you go off about how it's not fair how they try to guild you like this and immediately hang up
beomgyu heard a little bit of it and vaguely understood what they'd said so he comes to you to try to help you calm down a little
he holds you while you cry to him about the argument you just had and how they want you to go home and leave him for someone else
he comforts you so well
"I may not understand why they think it's okay to try and tell you what to do, but you're old enough to make your own choices and choose whoever you want to be with. I understand your culture is a little different from mine but I try to understand. we're gonna work this out and I'll make sure they like me."
your smile up and him and go about your night, making dinner and having a nice self care night since he knew you desperately needed it.
taehyun
this guy is so supportive of you, especially because he knows there are struggles that come along with being a foreigner
he is so interested in learning Spanish
he will sit there with you, textbook and notebook on the table, and go over grammar and vocab and everything
he loves practicing with you by saying sweet things and integrating vocab into everyday conversation
he really wants to impress you, and eventually your family
he also wants to connect with you on a deeper level
back to the being a foreigner thing...he really supports you and gets so angry when people say stuff about you in public
you were both at a cafe one time and an older woman kept staring at you
taehyun noticed and tried to move you behind him but she kept looking in your direction
she eventually comes up to you both and starts asking you a bunch of questions that weren't so kind and tyunnie was so annoyed and upset
you, being the nice person you are, patiently answered her questions even if they bothered you as well
once she left, tyun looked at you with his big pretty eyes and asked you if you were okay
you've also had younger girls, around your age, make snarky comments about you In public but taehyun knows exactly what to do in these scenarios
he pulls you in by your waist and kisses you just to shut them up
she loves your differences so much and celebrates them any chance he gets
huening kai
baby loves the food and when you speak to him in spanish
she loves the pet names in Spanish and says they somehow seem more sweet
his favorite would def be "mi amortico"
when you call him that he just melts into a puddle
his favorite one to call you is "bebe" because he thinks it perfectly captures you
like I said, he loves the food
when hes hungry, he now has the habit of just making a simple quesadilla just the way you taught him
he burns himself the first couple tries when flipping the tortilla with his bare hands but he gets the hang of it eventually
he hates that there isn't more Mexican food/ingredients in Korea but whenever its possible, he orders stuff online and surprises you with it!
he will want to learn all of the recipes you know and calls them your cooking dates
oh my goodness...when he meets you parents
they think he's kind of goofy looking (something my parents would say) but they would ultimately deem him a sweet boy
I feel like he is a grandmas boy so he is sticking to your grandma and you the whole time
your grandma feeds him tortillas with limon y sal and he is just so happy eating them
he also wants to learn Spanish so he can communicate better with abuelita (and you ig LMAO)
he loves your culture and how lively it is
he loves dancing with you at these family parties
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gglitch1dd · 17 days
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I have a few problems with you.
First of all, your deku work is nice and everything, but honestly you seem like some anti-feminist in sheep's clothing. Why can't reader ever be strong? Why can't they be a hero or fight back or stand at the same pedestal as Deku? It's always reader being this weak little submissive wife that makes him food and gives him babies.
Also I hate that you constantly shit on Katsuki and Ochaco. It's weird. Just say you don't like her because she's the main female protagonist of the show.
And also, maybe you're just some conservative weirdo, but why don't you ever use he/him reader or use trans readers? Or be a bit more inclusive?
Wow. Okay. That's quite something. I've been avoiding answering this but let me try.
Hey Anon, first of all, I pray that God gives you peace in your heart. I don't know who hurt you because it wasn't me, but I hope you know that you don't have to be so offended with the things I write. You don't like it? Swipe left. If it isn't your tea? Go back. If you aren't seeing what you want to be seeing, find another author.
Let me comment on what you said first. Bold of you to say that because reader (that is married to Izuku) isn't a hero and is a housewife, that she is weak. She's not. She's strong. What's wrong with being feminine or being a housewife and being happy that way? I personally like reading stories with such a more domestic reader (as I myself don't like the idea of working for the rest of my life and actually prefer being at home), and I filled in the gap where other people weren't writing for that.
Reader doesn't just keep quiet and pop out babies. She's a strong woman with a good husband that's willing to be good for her and she's a strong mother too. If you think all a stay at home mom does is pop out babies and praise her husband, you're mistaken.
I've already explained my deal with Katsuki and Ochaco, I'm not going to explain it again.
Finally, if you're offended by my writing, don't read it. Simple. Ignore it. Not everyone has to cater for everything the else I'd be here for a long time. I don't hate other types of readers, and I wish I could write for them. I can't. I include them in other ways through characters close to the reader in the story. I'm being inclusive. Katsuki being AFAB but using he/him pronouns in 'A Wishful Time' is me being inclusive. Mina being black in non-quirk aus and Sero being Latino is me being inclusive.
It's a shame you don't like my work but that's okay👍🏿 I hope you find an author that caters to your tastes more.
-Glitch1d
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muneca-lemon-steppa · 3 months
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COD Brain Rot incoming im sorry babes
THIS MORNING all I can think about are the COD men with a Latin partner.
Price who is adored by your mom and tias. But is highly prized and favored by you Abuelita. Price reminds her so much of her late husband, the patriarch of your family. Down to his twinkling eyes behind those stern brows. Whenever you visit her house, he has her point to everywhere on the house that needs fixing up. In thanks he gets a sweet and shaken kiss on the cheek. He secretly takes his Spanish lessons more seriously, wanting to speak to her more fluidly.
Gaz takes to Latin culture like a fish to water. Your dad keeps saying to him, “You’re Latino. I know it. Why are you lying to us.” Gaz is soon the right hand man at the family cook outs next to your dad. The first to grab you and your cousins to dance. The new reigning champ at lotería. Your cousins are asking you, “Does he have any brothers?” Kind of… maybe you should bring the rest of the 141 over
Soap is such a darling boy. I know he has worked with Los Vaqueros and has some fluency with Spanish, but I headcannon him to have limited interaction with Latin culture. And when he was about to meet your family, I think he was a bit nervous to impress. But once he got to the house… it was like he was always there. Soap loves a party. He loves big families. He loves to eat and to talk and to play. And your family does to. He’s recruited into the baby cousin soccer game nearly immediately, which is soon becoming an entire family affair. And is then a lesson in rugby. When you’re leaving, he’s making plans for next week with your siblings and cousins.
Ghost, our silent king. Though his body never betrays it, he is petrified. He knows you’re the princess/prince of your family, and just wants to do well. He doesn’t have the confidence that he’s worthy. When he arrives to dinner with your mom and dad, he is taken aback by your mother’s quick embrace. Much to your surprise, there seems to be an immediate connection between your dad and Simon. Maybe it’s the generational machismo attitude, but with a nod and a handshake, there is an easy understanding. But when your dad asks Simon to take a walk with him, you still feel on the verge of fainting. What could they possibly be talking about. And when they come back, both with soft smiles and semi wet eyes, you are so curious. When you get back in the truck and ask him what happened, he smiles, kissing your cheek and grasping your hand, “Just man stuff darlin’”
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tieronecrush · 11 months
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hot & heavy
chapter three: show me how
neighbor!joel x f!reader
series masterlist
series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)
series summary:
over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?
word count: 8.3k (a long-y but a goody)
warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, alcohol use, pet name (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, masturbation (f & m), light voyeurism, THIGH RIDING, dirty talk, LATINO JOEL cause it's canon which means there's likely subpar spanish bye!!!
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Joel is trying very hard to be a good neighbor.
He can be friendly enough when he needs to be, but he absolutely did not know the kind of place he was moving into. It’s like Pleasantville had a baby with The Truman Show. Everyone here is so nice.
Not that his previous neighborhood wasn’t filled with people who were nice, but everyone pretty much kept to their own business and gave a wave here and had a quick catch-up across the lawn there. Well, except for the Adlers.
And here, they also do neighborhood events.
Which is why he finds himself nursing a can of Budweiser that’s dripping cool condensation in the mid-afternoon Texas heat of late June, surrounded by husbands having conversations about the upcoming football season, the latest Astros game, and their wives. He can’t really add anything to the conversation because he hasn’t kept up on any sports news, was working during the last game, and he’s single.
So fucking single that he spends most nights fantasizing about you, his daughter’s nanny. Or just straight up watching you like some depraved, desperate man.
Which isn’t too far off base, cause it’s what he’s feeling right now as he steals glances of you laid out on a patio lounger next to the aquamarine, chlorinated water. You’re sitting in a white linen cover-up dress, but the thin crepe fabric leaves nothing to the imagination when it comes to your swimsuit underneath. It’s modest enough for a family affair, covering up everything appropriately but it still does something to see your skin exposed in the sunlight, a sheen of sweat coating your body.
He’s noticed some of the neighbors around your age checking you out, even some of the men older than him ogling at you. It was hypocritical to feel the burn of anger — he was eyeing you all the same but to him, it felt a little different. Like you were closer to his than anyone else’s. He saw you every day; knew little things about you like how you always twisted the ring on your right hand around with your thumb or how you always left one last sip or two in every drink you had, never fully finishing them before abandoning them on the counter or in the sink.
Knowing more about you, from tiny details to what you wanted to do with your life, made him feel like he was dipping his feet into the pool of temptation. Every bit he learned made him want more.
And every time he saw you through the window of your bedroom, he jumped in head first into that alluring pool. It felt so right, so justified in the moment to him, but as soon as the lights clicked off on your side and he looked down at his come coating his knuckles, shame slithered up his throat and coated his mouth with bitterness.
Yet, he couldn’t stop. And some nights, he swears to himself that he sees you looking, watching his actions. Like you know exactly what he’s doing and you let him. One time, mind hazed over with pleasure as he got himself off to the sight of you alone and half naked, he even convinced himself that maybe you wanted him to keep doing it.
Joel knew you were flirting at times, but at other times he couldn’t tell if there was any difference between your polite, sweet demeanor and a subtle hint that you found him attractive.
Even if you were into him, there’s no way he could do anything about it.
Joel’s pulled out of his thoughts when he feels a tug on the hem of his swim trunks. His eyes flit down to his daughter, standing next to him with a pout on her face.
“Daddy, can I please go swimming now?”
Joel smooths a hand through her hair, bending down to her level to look her in the eyes.
“Can you give me just a few more minutes, Bug? I gotta talk to Mr. Clark about a job he might need help with at his house. I promise we can go down to the pool right after that.”
Joel’s cool thumb from the beer can swipes across her cheek as Sarah huffs in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest and staying put as a sign of her reluctant agreement. He smiles softly at her, kissing her hairline as he stands again, turning to the neighbor near him to answer his questions about a potential job refurbishing his deck over the weekends.
Wrapped up in conversation, Joel doesn’t notice the tiny footsteps padding away slowly at first, speeding up down the stairs. He doesn’t notice until his hand reaches for her curls, the swoosh of air under his palm tearing his eyes away from Mr. Clark. Panic sets in immediately, Joel excusing himself quickly to go to the edge of the deck to search the large party for his seven-year-old. Flip flops slap loudly against the concrete, the familiar voluminous hair bouncing as she runs towards the open water without anyone there to catch her and no safety floats on her arms.
He deposits his beer on the railing, starting to rush down the stairs to try to catch her but is stopped as he watches what plays out below him.
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You saw Sarah, without her dad following behind her, and knew something wasn’t right. Joel had told you that she was still in swimming lessons — Sarah loved the water but she’d only had a few lessons last summer so she wasn’t entirely ready to be able to jump in and swim completely without aid. That pings something off in your mind, instincts kicking in as you swing your legs over the side of the lounge chair and jump up immediately to chase after her. Your arms outstretched wrap around her tiny frame right before the edge of the pool, lifting her away from the water on the other side.
Sarah is in a fit of giggles, the idea of you snatching her a playful game in her childish mind. Relief washes over you and you go along with her giggles, spinning her around and bringing her back over to your chair.
“Gotcha, little miss! You’re eager to swim, huh?”
Sarah’s giggles die down while she’s still in your arms, and as you set her back down next to your seat, Joel jogs over from the stairs to the two of you.
“Mija, you can’t just run off like that. You scared me. And you know there’s no running around the pool, and no swimming without an adult. It’s not safe, is it?”
Joel’s squatting down to look his daughter in the eyes, seriousness evident in his tone but not to the point of anger. He’s calm and collected as he reprimands with reminders and honesty, his voice not ever nearing a louder volume than his normal cadence.
God, he’s such a good dad.
It’s so attractive.
Internally, your palm is hitting your forehead at the flutter of your ovaries. Externally, your eyes roll into the back of your head in a curse to your mind.
“You were taking so long, Daddy! I want to swim now.”
Sarah’s indignant, her actions were completely justified to herself when she didn’t know how it could have ended up.
“I’m sorry that it frustrates you to wait, but you can’t go running off. Next time, give me a reminder, Bug. Sometimes I don’t realize how long I’m taking, it’s a curse your dad has for lack of time management.”
You snort a laugh out, covering your mouth as the comment goes right over Sarah’s head. Joel’s eyes find yours, soft crinkles showing next to them as he grins at your laughter.
He sends Sarah over to her bag sitting a few chairs over to grab her floaties for him to put on, standing up and facing you. Hands slip into the pockets of his shorts, shoulders raising an inch.
“Thank you for grabbing her. I just, I dunno, I just panicked at the top of the stairs. Like seeing everything in slow motion and I was stuck there. But, uh, yeah, thank you for getting to her.”
Voice thick with ignominy, guilt sheening in his eyes as he looks at you with a vulnerability you’d yet to see from the daily interactions with Joel.
A crack formed in your heart at the thought that he was scared, that he feels like he failed in the moment for his feelings overwhelming him. Your head shakes side to side, your feet subconsciously step closer to him and your hand reaches out to sprawl across his bicep with a gentle, comforting squeeze.
“It’s alright, Joel. Nothing happened. Sarah’s totally fine, and still chomping at the bit to swim,” you console, a kind smile on your face, “Besides, I probably wouldn’t be a very good nanny if I didn’t do anything when I was way closer to her. You couldn’t have reached her in time, and I stepped in for you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Joel.”
His shoulders relax, hands slipping from his pockets as he nods.
“Thank you. For all of it.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know. But I want to.”
The words strike you in your chest, nothing profound said but the emphasis behind them warming you from the inside out like the Texas sun. You swallow, suddenly feeling parched from the heat and breaking the eye contact that Joel was holding with you to look down at Sarah as she approaches you again.
“Can you help put my floaties on?” She hands you the deflated safety devices with a toothy grin, the gap of lost tooth on the left side of her smile making you want to squeeze her from how adorable she looks.
“Course I can, girly,” you take the floats from her, finding the mouthpiece on one and looking back to Joel, continuing before you start to blow them up, “I can swim with Sarah, if you wanna keep chatting with Mr. Clark. I know he wanted to get your thoughts on his deck. You should go back and talk to him, could be an easy job with decent pay. He’s a generous guy. Go be social, charm the pants off of everyone.”
Joel nods and glances over his shoulder to the deck filled with neighbors. He turns toward you again, raising an eyebrow in question.
“You sure, sweetheart? You’re off the clock today, you should enjoy your free time.”
“Spending time with Sarah is fun. Wouldn’t want to spend my afternoon any other way. Plus, what else am I doing? Baking out in the sun like a lizard?”
Joel laughs, a genuine one that you’ve only heard a few times when a joke of yours really gets him, and he nods, bringing a hand up to gently pat your arm.
“Thanks, darlin’. I owe you one.”
The wink he sends you nearly has your knees failing you, a heat sent to your core at the subtle flirtation.
These charged moments between the two of you have been happening much more often, and with your new (almost) nightly routine waiting up for Joel in your bedroom, you’re waiting with bated breath for whatever is built between the two of you to snap and open the flood gates.
More and more, you’re imagining how it would feel to kiss him, how his hand would feel in yours, what he could take from you and what he could give you. There was so much you were admittedly naive about, but everything that you had once been intimated by seemed exciting when you thought of doing it all with Joel.
He’s kind, and respectful, and gentle. He cares. Even when he acts like a grump or teases you, you know there’s something there. There has to be, otherwise you’re going crazy for sure.
Pulling yourself away from your daydreams, you inflate the floaties for Sarah and help her get them on. You pull your cover up over your head, depositing it on the chair you were laid out on. Sarah’s small hand fits in yours, taking slow steps to allow her to keep up with you as you cross the concrete patio to the pool stairs.
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The two of you climb down the stairs and into the water, Sarah shrieks and giggles from the chill surrounding her hitting Joel’s ears all the way up on the deck. He’s back with Mr. Clark, having finished hearing him out about what he wants done and offering his services, reaching an easy agreement with him about when he’ll come by to start and what Mr. Clark will pay him.
Joel wanders away from the group, grabbing another beer, this time a Miller Lite.
Not his favorite, but he’ll take what he can get to keep a small buzz around all these people. Nosy, overly polite, and fake people make him uneasy. He's virtually the opposite, and it occurs to him that you are, too.
Maybe that’s why he feels so drawn to you.
Well, that, and you’re one of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen.
Cracking open the can, he leans on the railing with his elbows supporting him and watches you with his daughter. He takes a long sip, combing his gaze over the top half of your torso that’s out of the water as you stand in the shallow end. The bikini top he’d gotten a peek of under your coverup is on full display now, the sweet lilac color with ditsy florals tight across your chest.
He’s seen more of your bare skin from his window, but the bikini top sends a heat to the back of his neck and behind his ears, imagining you over him on his lap and his hand slipped under the swimsuit.
Shaking his head to pull him away from the image, he takes a deep breath and a few gulps of his beer, taking one more look at the two of you splashing around in the water with some of the other neighborhood kids swimming circles around you. He holds back a smile as he listens to your laughter mixed with Sarah’s, chewing on the inside of his cheek before he returns to be social like you told him to.
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Eventually, once they’re pruny and antsy again, Sarah and the other kids get out and towel off to play tag altogether in the grassy part of your backyard. You dry off and slip your coverup over your head again, the fabric clinging to you in places that weren’t fully dry. Bare feet pad against the wooden stairs as you climb them, taking a breath to brace yourself before returning into the mass of judgy neighbors.
The contents of the cooler have dwindled, so you opt for a Corona and pop the cap off, weaving in and out of the crowd to find a lime wedge. At the makeshift bar, you grab a slice and shove it down the bottleneck, taking a sip and turning towards a group of neighbors you actually like.
Walking up to the circle, you see your brother, Chris, a kid his age from down street, Ryan, and Joel standing opposite you. Everyone’s talking about setting up a bags tournament, and you volunteer to play as well. One of the young wives offers to pair everyone off into teams, and you get set up with Chris while Joel gets partnered with Ryan.
Everyone playing meanders down to the lawn where the handful of boards are set up for play, and the four of you end up versus each other. Chris and Ryan walk to the far side, leaving Joel and yourself at the opposite end to start the game.
He bends down to collect the beanbags, handing you the blue ones with a grin while he holds the red for himself.
“You ready to lose at cornhole, sweetheart?”
You scoff and roll your eyes.
“No, cause I’m ready to win at bags.”
Joel scoffs this time, letting out a short laugh and giving you a look of disbelief.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people, darlin’. It’s called cornhole. Why do you even call it bags? You’re from Austin. We say cornhole.”
“Um, I am ‘one of those people’ cause ‘those people’ are the correct ones. And there are plenty of people living in Austin that call it bags. For example, my dad who taught me the game.”
You turn away from Joel and lob one of your bags onto the board, watching as it skids across the surface and sinks into the hole.
“Your dad is from the Midwest. Doesn’t count, sweetheart.”
Joel tosses his first one, the red bag smacking against the surface and sticking to its place. You look at him with a satisfied, smug smirk.
“It does count. And even more so, everyone in Fort Worth at school calls it bags. People from Texas.”
Your next shot only lands on the board, an annoyed sigh falling from your lips.
“That’s Fort Worth. I’m talking about Austin. Your hometown. You can’t betray us by calling it bags, darlin’. You’re breaking my heart hearing that.”
“Well, then I guess I’ll always be a heartbreaker to you. Cause if I ever call this game cornhole, it’ll be the death of me.”
Joel sinks his next shot, giving you the same pompous look you’d given him.
“Now I can’t be losing you so soon, so we can agree to disagree. But I’m right.”
“Oh my god, no! I am right. And I will be teaching Sarah the correct name for the game.”
The blue bag in your hand lands on the edge of the hole, taking a second to let gravity pull it in. You cheer to yourself and hear Joel’s laugh next to you, your smile softening.
“Now that’s just too far, sweetheart. I draw the line at influencing the youth. My youth, especially.”
Your laugh pulls a smile from Joel, the shot leaving his hand to land right in the hole of the board. He looks back to you, eyes glistening with a tinge of admiration and teasing all in one.
“Fine. I will allow you to parent as you see fit, even if it’s wrong on all moral levels.”
“I can see who’s influencing her heightened dramatics lately.”
You pause, a beat of silence as you try to find a defense for yourself but coming up short. The last beanbag in your possession sails through the air, missing the board completely. A pout tugs your bottom lip out, huffing a sigh out of your nostrils and crossing your arms to watch Joel take his last turn for the round.
His hand twitches at the last second, changing the trajectory of his throw and sending the bag off to the side into the grass.
“I’ll admit, I do come up with…climactic story lines for her Barbies. But it’s to encourage her imagination!”
“I’m just teasin’ you, darlin’. You’re great with Sarah, and we both love having you around this summer. Don’t need to change a thing about you.”
He must mean the words in a friendly manner, but your heart can help but flutter at the thought of Joel enjoying you being around him often.
The game goes for a few more rounds, Joel and you keeping up with each other and tying at the end of each of your turns.
“Guess we’re a pretty good match.” You smile sweetly at him as you reach out your hand as a gesture of good sportsmanship when you and Chris take the win. Joel’s hand envelopes yours, shaking it firmly as a grin tugs one side of his mouth up.
“I think you’re right about that, sweetheart.”
“We’re quitting, this is boring! Sorry, sis! Sorry, Joel!” your brother shouts at you both, sauntering off with his buddy Ryan. Joel looks back at you, shrugging with his hands in his pockets.
“Think we’d be good partners? We could keep up the tournament together.”
A wide smile crosses your face as you nod in agreement.
“Let’s kick everyone’s asses. At bags.” You wink before walking ahead of him back to the group, getting assigned your new opponents.
You spend the next few games across from Joel, sharing knowing glances and grins, communicating with only a look for the rest of your games. You easily climb through the small, single elimination tourney and get to the winner’s game. The pressure, or as much pressure as a friendly, neighborhood game could be when you’re a competitive person, is on with the eyes of everyone eliminated on you. After a tension filled game, both in scoring, and the look in Joel’s eyes that’s sending a tingle throughout your thighs and between your legs, the two of you earn the victory 21-19.
You both cheer goofily, overly celebratory for the simple sport as you rush to the center of the pitch. Joel meets you halfway, laughing as you raise your hand for a high five. He complies, grabbing your hand when it meets his in the air, squeezing it as he drops them together between your bodies. His eyes are darker, filled with a glint of something that intensifies the feeling at your core.
At a barely audible level, his drawl curls around his words as he tells you, “Good job, sweetheart,” with a wink and a sideways smirk.
Your long dried bikini bottoms are soaked at this point, a chill tickling its way down your spine. His hand pulls away from yours, moving to your waist to guide you to the stairs. He follows you up to the deck, and you can feel the burn of his eyes on your eyes through the layers of thin fabric, imagining the subtle jerks of his arm and shoulder that you catch glimpses of from across the lawn on those late nights you unknowingly share with him. Before you can start a conversation to stay near him, or even suss out the electric chemistry that’s reaching towards a peak between you two, you both get pulled away from each other. For the rest of the night, you can’t ever seem to catch up with him, and you resign wistfully to being stuck in a boring conversation with your mom’s friends while your thoughts circulate around Joel.
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The sun set an hour ago, the temperature dropping only a few degrees with the night fall. Most of the neighborhood is still mingling around your family’s backyard, those with younger kids all making their way home.
Sarah’s head rests against Joel’s shoulder as he holds her at his hip, adjusting her to hold her higher as he chats with your dad and brother about his last season on LSU’s baseball team. He feels Sarah rub her face against his shirt and glances at her, checking the time on his watch. It’s about half an hour past Sarah’s usual bedtime, and if he doesn’t get her back home, she’s going to be as grumpy as he is without a full eight hours.
Wishing your dad and brother goodnight and thanking them for hosting, he turns to make his way across the deck and glances around in an attempt to find you to say goodnight. It’s Saturday, which means he won’t see you tomorrow, and the thought of that contracts his chest. He can’t think of an excuse to go on a search to seek you out, and without a reason, he meanders back over to his house.
Joel gets Sarah into her pajamas and lays her down for the night, kissing her forehead and smoothing her hair back. He smiles to himself at the peaceful look on her face, rubbing her back gently before shutting off her bedside lamp and closing the door behind him.
Retiring on the sofa, he turns on some reruns of the latest cable show, zoning out on the screen as his thoughts drift to you.
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The smell of chlorine on your hair starts to give you a headache, so you make your way inside and up to your room to shower off. Changing into your oversized sleep shirt and shorts, you fall back into bed and grab your book from the nightstand to read some pages to distract your brain before going to sleep.
You glance out your window to see if Joel’s come up to his room, like that first night you had waited for him and every time since then. When you can’t see his silhouette or any lights on in his window, you take a guess that he must be parked in front of the TV since he brought Sarah home.
After a chapter or two of your book, a vibration muffles against your comforter. The book gets discarded, probably losing your page while your hands scramble to find your device before the ringing stops. Right before it rings through, you grab the small phone and hit accept without a chance to check the contact.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
The raspy drawl crackling through the line raises your heart rate, your eyes glancing to your alarm clock to see the time - 11:48 pm.
Why was Joel calling this late?
“Joel? What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. Well, nothing serious. I, uh, just got a call from Tommy and he’s way too drunk at some bar downtown to drive home. I gotta go get him, but I don’t wanna wake Sarah to put her in the car or leave her by herself here obviously. So I was wondering if you’d—”
“I’ll be right over.”
Joel sighs, full of relief and breathes out his next words filled with gratefulness.
“Thank you so much, darlin’.”
You make a quick goodbye, gathering your phone and slipping out of your bedroom. Downstairs near the door to your garage, you slip on your flip flops and head over across your front yard and Joel’s. The humidity in the air has lessened, but your damp hair still sticks to the back of your neck. Your nails scrape up the hair and hold it off your neck, legs carrying you up the short set of stairs and up to the Miller front door. Your right hand knuckles tap quietly against the painted wood, letting your hair down and rubbing your sweaty palms on your t-shirt.
The door swings open with Joel on the other side, a sleepy grin on his face as he waves you in. He looks soft in his washed out Cypress Hill t-shirt and gym shorts, the vision of him in his version of PJs tugging at the corners of your lips.
“Thank you again for coming over here, darlin’. Sarah’s sleeping, should stay asleep while I’m gone. She was exhausted after tonight.”
Following Joel into the living room, he gestures to the couch and the TV that is still turned on to whatever he was watching before.
“Should be back soon, feel free to hang out here. Help yourself to anything to drink or if you want a snack, you know where everything is.” He smiles at the mention of you knowing your way around, grabbing the keys to his truck and slipping on some sneakers as you plop down onto the couch.
“Sounds good, I’ve got my cell so if you need any more help, text or call. But I’ll be camped out here until you get back.”
“Hopefully won’t need anything else, been dealing with Tommy my whole life. Always gonna be the annoying little brother,” he chuckles softly and lingers near the door, glancing around before his eyes find you again, “Guess I should head out, I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“Drive safe! And tell Tommy I say hi,” you add with a quiet giggle, watching as Joel shakes his head and laughs to himself, heading out the front door. The truck rumbles to life in the driveway, and you watch from the window as he heads down your street and towards the city.
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The engine shuts off in the driveway, and Joel can still hear some echoes of the party carrying on from another neighbor's backyard. Getting Tommy from the bar took way longer than he thought it would, and it’s now 1:26am. Traffic was horrible attempting to cross the city ‘cause of some country show getting out right as he hit downtown, and Tommy wouldn’t answer his damn phone when Joel did get there. He sped back to Tommy’s and basically made him roll out of the car, idling to make sure his brother got inside alright. He was insufferable with his drunk babbling, and now by the time Joel finally got home, he felt a swirl of guilt in his stomach for making you come over. He thought it would be quick, and now he’s slinking inside to apologize profusely for taking an hour and a half.
The front door squeaks on its hinges, the hollow sound of the TV cracking through its speakers at a low volume. You don’t greet him as he slowly clicks the door back in place, locking the deadbolt and kicking off his sneakers into the pile of shoes in the entryway.
Sock covered feet echo muffled thuds across the wood floors of his living room, a grin tugging on his lips when you finally come into view.
Fast asleep, you're laid out on the leather couch with your legs curled into your stomach. One arm’s under the throw pillow your head rests on and the other is bent limply in front of you, fingers wrapped into a loose fist. The movement of your chest is languid and deep with your breaths, lips parted in relaxation and eyelashes resting against your skin.
Painfully angelic.
He’s frozen for a moment across the room, watching you sleep until the time reaches past 1:30am and he knows that he needs to wake you to get you back home and into your own bed. He selfishly wants to let you sleep there, doesn’t want to interrupt any sweet dreams you might be having or the rest you need after taking care of his daughter all week, after helping him too.
Sighing faintly to himself, he moves towards the couch and bends down to gently rub your shoulder to wake you.
“I’m back, sweetheart, you can head home.”
You gasp from the shock of being woken from a deep sleep, scrambling to sit up in a panic with heavy lidded eyes. Your soft touch presses warmly against his thigh through the fabric of his gym shorts, and he looks down at you as you start to fully wake.
“Joel? Oh god, I’m so sorry I fell asleep, I shouldn’t have—”
“Hey, hey, it’s alright, sweetheart. I took a lot longer than I thought I would,” the cozy look in your eyes plucks at his heart strings, and the touch lingering on his leg turns into an electric burn, “‘M sorry you had to sleep on the couch for a bit.”
Your head shakes with a dopey grin, fingers brushing his skin as it slips back towards your lap. The spot once covered with your touch sends a chill throughout his body. His eyes track your motion and his own hand reaches out for you. Large fingers slip between yours, Joel’s gaze returns up from your locked hands. Before you can say anything to him, and before he can overthink, he leans in and catches your lips in a fragile kiss.
Everything stops around him in the moment. The TV is muted in his ears, the chill of the AC isn’t felt with the fire alighting in his gut, his eyes close and bring him into an abyss where all he can feel is the plush of your lips against his and all he can smell is the candied scent of your green apple and lime body wash mixing in his nose with the bluebell and jasmine notes of your shampoo. It’s overwhelming, the way you have completely surrounded him with one kiss.
Your mouth is still against his for a few more beats, Joel imagining the shock you must be in and he immediately feels his stomach drop in a rush.
Fucking idiot. Why would you think it would be okay to kiss her? She’s obviously uncomfortable and now you are going to have to grovel out an apology for being creepy and completely unprofessional.
Joel’s head moves back to break the kiss, his eyes opening with dread flooding them. Scanning your own expression, he can’t quite read you.
“Darlin’, I’m so sor—”
“Do it again.”
Now Joel is still with shock, confusion contorting his face as his head tilts minutely.
“What d’you mean, sweetheart?”
“Do it again,” the smooth skin of your hand trails up his arm, across his shoulder, and wraps around the side of his neck, “Kiss me.”
His brain takes a few seconds to process your words and fire actions to his nerves and muscles, but when everything finally connects in him, he’s leaning in and molding his mouth to yours in a deeper exchange.
With hands intertwined, he reaches his other up to caress your cheek. His fingers splayed across your face, grazing the line of your jaw as you sigh into his mouth. The slight part of your lips with the exhale gives him a chance to lick into your mouth, his tongue tasting yours. Your hand on his neck tugs to pull him over you further, his back aching at the angle.
He pulls apart from you, breaths shallow as his eyes search yours for any signs of wanting to stop. When he can’t find any, he moves to sit on the couch, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap.
Joel chases your honey kisses, taking peck after peck as his hands run over your back. He feels your hands scratch into his five o’clock shadow, groaning against your lips when you sit back on his thigh and the front of your shorts brushes against his semi-hard cock in his pants.
Kisses intensify, heating up again. Joel’s hands skim down your back and each grab a handful of your ass, coaxing a small whimper from your lips. The sweet sound flips another switch in Joel, his hips canting up against you as he feels himself swell more in his pants.
Against your lips, he rasps out, “Y’have no idea how much I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you, darlin’.”
“You could’ve. I’ve wanted it just as much…” you breathe out, a soft whine slipping after, “Don’t know how you didn’t—didn’t notice how much I wanted you.”
Joel’s mouth presses kisses at the corner of your mouth, along your jaw, and down your neck. He nips at your lush skin, moaning quietly and fanning out humid air at your collar. His hips grind up against you again, your inhale catching in your throat in a gasp.
“I noticed, sweetheart. Trust me, I noticed. Just couldn’t bring myself to touch you. Didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” his words tumble out in a lustful haze, the taste of you and the feeling of you lowering his inhibitions, “But I wanted you so bad. Ached for you, darlin’, and when I saw you in your window from my bedroom one night, dressed in nothing but those sweet little white lace panties you got, I watched you putting lotion on and fucked my hand. Felt so good watching your hands all over yourself, wanted ‘em to be mine.”
He moves one of his hands from your ass, slipping it between your bodies and groping one of your breasts through the thin material of your sleep shirt. You moan his name louder than before, your smaller hand gripping right onto his shoulder. He catches your lips in a kiss again to stifle your noises to be sure you two wouldn’t wake Sarah.
Your lips detach from his with a smacking sound, eyes looking into his blown wide with wonder.
“I knew you were there. I did it for you.”
Joel stares at you in disbelief, lips parted as he waits for you to continue.
“I wanted you so badly, that I thought—I thought if you saw me, it would maybe make you see me. Think I’m pretty or something. So I waited for you that first time, glancing over until I finally saw you in the window. And when I noticed you staring, I started to change my clothes but that wasn’t going to be enough cause it would be over so soon. So I put on my lotion. I could see you sitting there when I looked out my window, and I just—I guessed what you were doing cause I saw your arm moving and your head tilted back a lot. And it seemed like you liked it, so I kept doing it for you, and waiting for something to finally happen.”
His cock is rock hard and throbbing for some kind of attention. He can feel a wet spot forming on the fabric of his boxers from his pre-cum leaking out of him.
You knew. You saw him getting off to watching you parade around your room mostly naked. You liked it, and you kept doing it for him.
It’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever told him.
“Aren’t you a sweet little thing, huh darlin’? You did that for me every time?”
Joel uses the hand that was on your breast to brush your hair behind your ear, eyes piercing yours. He can see the shyness in you still, the hesitancy coating your expression and shaky breaths.
“Uh huh.”
“You wanted me to feel good? All those times, I got to take care of myself, but nobody took care of you?”
An audible swallow cuts the silence you’ve created, a shrug of your shoulders before your meek voice vibrates Joel’s ears.
“Um, sometimes—sometimes I would touch myself or rub against one of my pillows after I turned out my light. Not every night, but when I really needed to I did.”
A pout juts Joel’s bottom lip out, his head shaking back and forth.
“Mmm, poor thing having to touch yourself, bet it didn’t ever feel like enough, huh? Probably were thinking about my hands, my mouth, my cock. Am I right, sweet girl? Were you wishing I would find you in your room and make you come?”
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His words are shooting right to your cunt, fluttering inside of you and soaking your panties. This moment is more than enough for you to have your imagination run free, even if Joel never so much as kissed your cheek again. But his voice is addictive, his touch setting of ripples of goosebumps and making your body feel as if it’s filled with helium. You thought you would float to his ceiling if he wasn’t holding onto you so tight.
“Yes, yes I wanted that,” you close your eyes, the contact with Joel’s too much as you work up the courage to spill out the embarrassing reality that you’ve been dreading to tell him if you were ever caught in a moment like this, “I’m, um, I’ve never had anyone…”
Joel’s one hand plays with your hair and the other squeezes your bum gently. Your eyes open to see him staring at you full of doting affection.
“You’ve never had anyone touch you? You’re a virgin?” Your eyes cast down to the graphic on his t-shirt, nodding and feeling that meager inadequacy you’ve felt when the confession has come up to other guys and boyfriends in the past.
It wasn’t like you were saving yourself for any reason, it just never felt like the right moment. You never really wanted it with anyone in the past, and you took it as a sign when most guys, especially during college, would bolt after you told them. Your friends comforted you, after the first time telling you how shitty guys were and how they all had this complex that girls become obsessed and clingy with the guys they lose it to.
You braved yourself for that moment to happen now, waiting for Joel to tell you that ‘this wasn’t going to work’ or ‘that it’s getting kind of late’.
“Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. We can do whatever you're comfortable with. Including doing nothing if that’s what you want.”
“What?”
Your head snaps up in surprise, facing writhe with skepticism. In Joel’s expression, you can’t find any signs of him being humorous or lying to you.
“I said, we can take this at your pace. I’d be happy just having you near me, pretty girl. I don’t wanna pressure you into anything.”
“No, no. You’re not,” your hands run across his broad shoulders, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to his lips, “I want it with you, all of it. What I’m missing out on.”
His chuckle fills your ears, not laughing at you maliciously but as if you’re endearing to him.
“That can all happen eventually, darlin’. Not tonight,” Joel gives you a heady, yet tender kiss, pulling you by your waist over to his right more. Your knees lay on either side of his thigh, and you stare at him when he pulls back from you.
“How about tonight, you just show me how you make yourself come? I want you to show me what you like. Wanna see your beautiful face when you come. That alright with you, sweet girl?”
“What d’you mean?”
He’s patient with you, a warm palm running along your side as his head tilts.
“You rub your pretty little clit against my thigh. Just like one of your pillows. That okay? Think you’ll feel good doin’, sweetheart.”
“Okay, yeah. I wanna try it.”
Joel’s smile is sweetened as he looks at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. He pushes you to stand from his lap for a moment, holding you up on shaky legs while one hand tugs down the waistband of your shorts a few inches. He looks up at you through his long lashes (why do men always have the best lashes?) and presses a kiss to your hip bone.
“Can I take these off for you, darlin’?”
You nod slowly, feeling the words get caught in your throat as tension builds between the two of you.
“Need you to tell me. Always need to hear your words.”
Swallowing hard, your throat clears with a barely there hem and your voice comes out thick with want.
“You can take them off. Please take them off.”
Joel moves with your consent, smoothly pulling your cotton shorts down your legs and dropping them to the ground. He leans forward and grazes his lips along your thighs with a warm exhale, ending his exploration with a suckling kiss.
“Such a sweet, polite girl. How’d anyone resist you?”
His hands grip the backs of your thighs, bringing you into his lap and settling you over his right leg again. You whimper at the feeling of your weight pressing your clit against his thigh, the moment of friction as he adjusts your positions sending a jolt of energy throughout your bloodstream.
“Alright, pretty girl, you just move your hips how you do in your bedroom alone. Right here against my thigh.”
Hands on his shoulders brace yourself as you give your hips one roll against Joel, the wetness of your cunt leaking from your panties and onto his skin. When you pull back, you can see the slightest hint of sheen on him, mouth falling open at the sight of part of you marking him, even temporarily. A slow rhythm builds, Joel’s large hand encasing one of your ass cheeks and the other on your waist to help you find your pace.
“I imagined you over me like this all the time. Y’know what I would say to myself when I was looking at you, sweetheart?” The timbre of his deep drawl vibrates against your eardrum as he leans his head in to press a kiss right under your lobe.
“W-What would you say?” your voice is high-pitched and throaty, eyes screwing shut as you focus on his voice and the feeling of your clit dragging against him.
“I would say things like ‘Quiero saborearte’ and ‘Apuesto a que te sientes tan apretada y mojada’ and ‘Quiero dártelo’. Do you know what any of that means?”
Is he really giving you a Spanish lesson right now?
When you don’t answer, his hands grip you tighter and skid your hips to a halt, a whine pulled from your lips involuntarily as you look at him.
“I asked you if you understood what I said, sweetheart. I wanna know. Then you can keep going.”
He’s being serious, and you huff out a breath in frustration before you respond.
“All I understood is ‘quiero’ which is ‘I want’ and ‘saborear’ is to savor? I think?”
Joel rumbles out a satisfied hum, removing his hands from you completely. At the freedom, you move your hips faster, your arousal forming a wet spot on his shorts and skin. Quiet moans of his name are the only thing that you can speak as you listen to him again.
“‘Quiero saborearte’ is ‘I want to taste you.’”
Oh fuck.
His hands grip you again, moving you in figure eights to grind you harder on his leg.
“‘Apuesto a que te sientes tan apretada y mojada’ means ‘I bet you feel so tight and wet.’”
“Fuck, Joel…”
His dark chuckle cuts through after your breathy adlib, the burning hot coil in your gut twists tighter.
“God, you look so pretty like this. Can’t wait to see what you look like when I have my fingers or tongue on you. I know I’ll get you screaming my name.”
Smug fucker.
“And ‘Quiero dártelo’ translates to ‘I want to put it in.’ Is that what you thought about when you were making a mess on your pillows, sweet girl? Thought about me giving you my cock?”
“Joel, I-I’m gonna—“
“I know, sweetheart, I know. Let go, come on my thigh.”
That’s when the dam breaks and you're swept up into the flood of pleasure that washes over you like a tidal wave. All you can respond to Joel is “yesyesyes” as your eyes roll back into your head with your jaw dropped, his hands continuing to slide your hips back and forth to ride out your orgasm.
“So beautiful, darlin’…”
The feeling dissipates eventually, your chest heaving breaths to slow your heart rate down. Your eyes meet Joel’s again, a Cheshire smile wide across his face as he leans in and kisses you passionately. He pulls away, pressing quick pecks on your lips and around your cheeks, coaxing a laugh from you. You press his back against the couch, grin filled with a shy affection as you stare at him. You move to stand on your knees to climb off of him, your leg brushing his bulge and feeling his cock twitch in his shorts. Eyes snap back to his, a curious expression covering your features.
“Can I do something for you?”
“Another time, sweetheart. S’real late now, probably should get back home to get some sleep.” Joel thumbs your lip as you pout, wrapping around him in a tight hug.
“I don’t wanna leave.”
“I know, darlin’, I wish you could stay with me all night. But wouldn’t be the best look for you to walk home tomorrow morning from my house in your little PJs.”
You sigh deeply, pressing a light kiss to his neck before sitting up again and nodding in understanding.
“You’re right. I should get home,” you stand from the couch and pull on your shorts, slinking over to the front door with him in tow to slip into your flip flops, “See you Monday?”
You look up at him with wide, doleful eyes filled with hope, relief washing over you as he pulls you into him and gives you a breathtaking kiss.
“Can’t wait for it, sweet girl. Have a good Sunday.”
He sends you out the door after one, or a few, last kisses, standing in the doorway to make sure you get in alright.
Feeling your mind in the clouds and floating on adrenaline, you glide up to your room and flop onto your bed. Laying with your thoughts recounting the last hour of your life, you’re only pulled out when your phone buzzes with a message.
Joel:
Think you can sit up on your bed, sweetheart?
The message confuses you for a second until it clicks and you sit up quickly, turning on your mattress to face your window.
Joel’s lights are on for once in his room, his silhouette standing in the window. One hand supports him against the glass, shirt off and shorts pulled a few inches down his thighs. His arm flexes as he jerks his cock, breath fogging up the spot he’s closest to.
A wave of arousal rushes to your core, watching him on full display unlike every other time you’ve been the one to put the show on for him. It only takes a moment looking at you sitting on your bed, even in your pajamas, before his head is rolling back, jaw dropped and hand against the window clenching into a fist as he paints his hand with his come.
You fall back onto your bed when he walks out of sight, assuming he’s cleaning up. One more buzz sounds before you turn your light out, a second message from Joel:
Need you to stay late on Monday.
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taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @sunakochansama43 @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain
539 notes · View notes
strwbgirls · 1 year
Text
Random Jason Todd headcanons that are now canon because I said so
~ As we know Jason Todd is big ass shit canonically being 6′0 and 225lbs I believe he is 6′3 but his boots defiantly add height so just imagine this 6′7 225lb man towering over whispering the dirtiest shit ever in your ear I'm combusting
~ I also heavily believe Jason smokes he's not a chain smoker he only does it when he gets in a shit mood or just needs to relax. it is very attractive watching him smoke
~ That being said when is in a shitty mood he finds comfort in your presence so just be there don't say relax with him, he appreciates more than you'll know
~ He has mommy and daddy issues so he definitely babies you but wants you to baby him back. he's the little spoon
~ He definitely looks out for the kids around Gotham. Bringing them groceries, and new clothes, getting them away from drugs, getting their parents into rehabs,  and letting them spend a couple nights at his warehouse.
~ I always used to headcanon that Jason was Latino but when I started reading Red Hood: Outlaws the webtoon  his shoulder tattoo reminded me of a Polynesian Tribal tattoo so now I believe he is defiantly mixed(latino&poly)
~ He is a feminist through and through. He actually believes women are the shit and is into powerful women. likes being dominated sometimes. 
~ He is into WOC I don't make the rules. He would wholeheartedly embrace your culture, any food, and special events. If you had curly hair he would learn how to take care of it and ask to help out with it sometimes. He would take time to research your culture. Definitely either cuss out racist or just kicks their ass really depends on his mood.
~ He is the world's biggest literature NERD. Reads people like William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, George Orwell, Alexandre Dumas, and Sir Conan Arthur Doyle. He would quote certain lines to you.
~ He loves it when you play nurse patching him up after patrol even if your medical knowledge is limited he would walk you through. Even better if you both heroes and you're just patch each other up trying making to make each other as comfortable as possible. 
962 notes · View notes
writinandcrying · 3 months
Text
TMNT HEADCANON / how the turtles text
A lot can be said from how someone express themselves through texting, so this is just some crack / light headcanons !
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Not really based on a single version per say, more that turtles have been deprived of social interaction for the majority of their life and I think texting them would be an very interesting experience lol
Idea based on @avery73 last random turtle post (thanks for being one of our strongest soldiers and writing wonderful pieces 🫡) English is not my first language and I didn’t proofread this, if there is any grammatical erros pls don’t hesitate to tell me!
Mikey
🎢 Single texts
🎢 Just like this
🎢 Loads of it
🎢 You got 60 new messages
🎢 in the past 2 minutes
🎢 Loads of gifs too
🎢 And voice memos
🎢Oh look
🎢6 personality tests links
🎢What do you mean you won’t do it
🎢He needs to know what kind of cupcake you are!!!!
🎢 And music recs
🎢 Your phone won’t stop vibrating
🎢 for the next weeks
🎢 After you meet him (Honestly really annoying unless you have a crush on him)
🎢 For the latinos/latinas; if he EVER finds out about WhatsApp and the stickers. Oh you are so done. If you have an older phone that shit WILL blow up / malfunction for SURE
🎢 uses TONS OF EMOJIS !!!!! 😍😍😝🤪😋🤩AND CAPS AS WELL!!! 🥳😽✌️👅🗣️
🎢Mikey live reaction when you ask if he’s upset that you asked him to tone it down a notch with the texting on a busy day:
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🎢 Will lowkey tone it down with the emojis when he finds out some ppl find it cringe, but with his angels cakes ???????? 🫵 YOU BET 🗣️ HE WILL SHOW YOU WITH IT 💋🫦💅🏻🤳🏼💃🏻🕺🏽🙈🦋🌺🧡🌚🌻🔥💥🌟
🎢Will accidentally send you some random ass emoji that wasn’t supposed to be on the context of the text, also the autocorrect is def not his friend
Mikey : how’s it going baby gorila
Mikey: babygirl*
Mikey:
Mikey: I’m sorry
🎢 adds emojis to very contacts in his t-phone:
Leo: Leader of the pack 🐺 🐢 🫡
Donnie: Eistein 📚🧬⚗️ (Raph also shares this name on his t-cell)
Raph: Murderous teddy bear 🧸 🧨
Splinter: Mafia Boss 🪤 (no one knows about this name tho)
April: Chanel N.6 🎤(or World of Apes 🦧 lmao)
Casey: New York Hockey League 🏒
Vern: Some dude (adds 🦅 so he knows it’s Vern and not “some random dude”)
Y/n: angelcakes pookie wookie baby boo boo love of my life !!!!!! 😍🥰👀🧚🏻‍♂️
🎢Mikey live reaction when Raph yells at him to stop flooding the chat, followed by mikey texting him “make me” (they are sitting next to each other):
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Donnie
🔭Huge blocks of it in the speed of light. many topics, many questions and also explanations at just one sitting
🔭But won’t hold back on a smart ass short cut response for one his brothers (literally has the sharpest tongue)
🔭Will hardly uses emojis, only when it’s a single text to express an emotion (most current used emojis: 🤓when he does something impressive 💜: for y/n 🙄: when venting about something annoying Leo / Mikey / Raph did)
🔭Will want to discuss random ass problems he has encountered in his projects, in forums online, specially if you ever show interest in debating / doesnt hold back into showing your strong opinions
🔭 Has named their brothers as “Failed Lab Experiments” and managed to color code their messages (has the only t-phone that has this feature)
🔭Donnie creating the most unique and smartass way to charge his phone just cuz he can:
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🔭Deadass his reaction when texting his crush 👀:
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🔭 Has modified Mikey’s phone so he doesn’t have access to emojis for a whole week after his baby brother decided to spam him “out of no where” (after Donnie won consecutively 10 Mario Kart matches AND ate the last 2 slices of cold pizza)
🔭Result: mikey spammed EVEN MORE and only spoke to EVERYONE by Japanese emojis. Leo and Raph begged demanded that donnie install his emojis back cuz they were DONE with the whole situation
Failed lab experiment N.4: ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ" °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° (♡´౪`♡)
Failed lab experiment N.1: Stop.
Failed lab experiment N.4: ┬┴┬┴┤ᵒᵏ (・_├┬┴┬┴ Failed lab experiment N.4: (;﹏;)
Failed lab experiment N.2: You stupid IDIOT Failed lab experiment N.2: look what you've done now he’s sad
🔭 Donnie also has to deal with his brothers thinking he is their personal Google (he will always answer their questions, even out of spite):
Failed lab experiment N.4: Donnie what’s a Cochlear implant
Successful lab experiment: A small, complex electronic device that can help to provide a sense of sound to a person who is profoundly deaf or severely hard-of-hearing. The implant consists of an external portion that sits behind the ear and a second portion that is surgically placed under the skin.
Failed lab experiment N.4: :0 yikes
Failed lab experiment N.4: Okay thanks!!!!
Successful lab experiment: Stop asking me stuff when you can just Google it.
Failed lab experiment N.4: But I like talking to you 🙀😔
Failed lab experiment N.4: You are my favorite turtle Siri!!! 😉
Successful lab experiment: I’d prefer if I wasn’t... Also, why are you curious about cochlear implants?
Successful lab experiment: Mikey?
Successful lab experiment: Mikey!!!!!
(He still doesn’t know why)
Raph
🥊 Barely uses emojis. Lowkey barely texts? doesn't see the appeal to it, rather prefer to hang out with you 1 on 1 than being far away from you (will never ever admit to it. maybe after 3 years in a relationship)
🥊as a friend: he wont be the one spiking a conversation, but might keep going if he's truly bored (this is prone to happen during daylight / evening when they still can't go out) but will probably be the one to ask to hang out when he needs an outlet and such 🥊*sees messages* eh i'll reply later *completely forgets about it*
🥊 will effortlessly take the most breath-taking pictures of new york during patrol and send it to you 🥊 if you are already his s/o / someone he trusts: will most likely text you to ask about stuff (if you need anything or something he needs from topside) or to diss / vent / gossip about his brothers 🥊 will send embarrassing pictures of his brothers to you cuz he can't deal with that shit alone lmao
🥊 will either be pretty clueless with the most random ass stuff or out of propose just to tease you: y/n: jniasunoakpfa raph: what was that y/n: keyboard smash? raph: how do i do that y/n: just press anything raph: 7 🥊 Raph Live reaction as soon as he realizes he has feelings for you:
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🥊 Also Raph Live reaction when he comes to terms with this feelings and has an excuse to ignore Leo (even if he doesnt like texting) just bc he can ignore Leo as he pleases:
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Leo
🎏 Perfect texts 🎏 looks like an email/letter sometimes 🎏 to most people: 1 message with divided topics. pretty direct 🎏 when he can't reply right away: "Hello. I'm happy you wrote to me. I try to reply promptly but currently I'm not available at the moment-" Like omg bro RELAX. 🎏 to his s/o: 70% direct, the other 30% likes to send little reminders, either with songs or pretty things she has seen during a patrol with a "thinking of you" message. lowkey romantic when he doesn't even mean to be, def shows how thoughtful he is 🎏 prefers to call you rather than texting. especially if you are dating/has a crush on you he might not even realize why he likes calling you so much, until it hits like a brick that he just wants to hear your voice 🎏Leo when he calls you and doesn't know when to "intervene" / his time to talk back (god forbid he's unpolite and interrupts you):
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lowkey him listening to April vent about smth dumb shit Casey did /any human friend venting and he doesnt know how to react lmao 🎏Just like Donnie, has favorite emojis and will only use it in specific situations (this will take time for it to happen, like after years Donnie first invented the t-phone and finally relized he didn't had to be so formal when texting): 🐢 when talking about team work or his brothers / 🪷 for meditating or mindfulness (thinks its peaceful) / 💙 for his boo and his boo only / 😏 only in a relationship, especially when he's feeling scipy (extremely rare for it to happen over text tho)
——————————————————————————
Group chat (more than one reaction)
💚 catching social cues irl can be hard, you are telling me there are hidden social cues in texting too??
💚 “Nah shut up” group, doesn’t care much about it and won’t change their ways: Leo, Raph
💚 Will research about it, will talk to every single human he knows (yes. you. Vern. Casey and April) Needs to know the social cues. NOW: lmao try to guess
💚 Also needs to know, but for meme reasons, he has to say up to date w the terminology/ slangs: another hard guess /j
💚 Oh btw, Donnie totally uses /j /Tw /srs terminology WHILE he texts fast AND huge text blocks. none of his brothers know how he does it
💚Will over use fresh lingo he has learned overhearing humans on patrol, shows, from his humans friends to the point it’s almost unbearable: Mikey 💚Live reaction of Raph and Leo trying to understand when Mikey or Donnie spamming the group chat with their extremely recent memes or hyperfixations:
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💚the chat WILL be flooded with things related to their favorite basketball teams, show they want to see or dumbass pictures of their daily lifes, example: Mikey: *has sent an selfie*
Mikey: you know y/n
Mikey:If you’re fortunate enough
Mikey: your internal organs will spend their entire lifespan in absolute darkness
Mikey: but mine?
April: oh boy here we go
Mikey: Hasn’t. 😏😏😏
Y/n: Oh?
Mikey: *send another selfie flexing muscles* you see when you fight crime everyday-
Raph: yeah he shallowed a glow stick
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punkeropercyjackson · 3 months
Text
Related to my prev post:
I don't give two shits if Bruce is written like a bad dad if it means we get good writing for everybody else since i think minorities are more important than a white cishet male nepotism baby unlike his butch lesbian counterpart who's judaism is an actual fundamental part of her character and since he's been written as abusive so consistently over the years it's in-character anyway
Dick can be both bi/pan and demisexual and there's more evidence for the latter than the former so making him be sexually loose is aspec erasure and mspec stereotyping and he dosen't have a thing for redheads,he has a thing for black women and to me the only guy he seems to like romantically is Roy and that adds on to his demisexuality since they're childhood best friends
'Catholic guilt Jason' is a shit headcanon that misses the major and critical part of him being Red Hood that he didn't feel the slightest bit bad about killing people and the point of his redemption was learning remorse,afrolatino Jason isn't based on stereotyping but him filling out so many black and latino cultural aspects and if any hcs for him are stereotyping it's the one that he's a slut because he's a very handsome and hot and cute goth punk man
Tim is perfect the way he is and dosen't need power ups or to get 'punished' for the oh so horrible crime of being a realistic teenage boy,he's not JUST huge a loser or a super cool dude but both at once and it's bad writing and fetishistic to ignore his wide range of relathionships that consists of mostly of women to make him a 'guys guy'
Stephanie is heavily autistic and bpd-coded so she's far from a 'normie',much less an 'it girl' but people see blonde hair and blue eyes and throw away everything else about her because that's all she's worth to them or call her an abuser and a pick me just like they do irl bpdtistic women and she's also canonically pastel/indie punk and a Team Mom but gets her presentation switched to basic and made out to be a womanchild instead
Cass had a million times more moral conflict than Jason ever did,would never in her LIFE wanna be feminine even in the chinese way and would be butch in it instead,turning her scattered speech into sign language is ableist not unlike(but not on the same level as)changing Babs' type of wheelchair disability and she'd be a better Batman than any male character in existense
Duke is only a golden child in the sense he has a yellow motif and is as disruptive and authentically quirky as his siblings,We Are Robin is a better team than the canon Outlaws,his powers are cooler than any Al-Ghul ones you could come up with,he has more femme energy than Tim does and Carrie Kelley ain't shit and only gets brought back to replace him because DC is antiblack
Damian's introduction mentality was a result of not only child abuse but also psychological grooming to get him to dehumanize himself and all his bigoted comments are explained either by him being like 12 or his writers trying to demonize brown people and anybody who thinks he's a bad person is a super-sized pissbaby with no sympathy for kids of color,shipping him with Jon is making a bisexual man into a ped0phile and Jay is good even if aging Jon up wasn't and he should be friends with Maya,Suren,Nell,Colin,Kathy,Maps,Tai and Miles,Gwen,Peni,Pavitr,Hobie and Margo from Atsv and Nico and Hazel from Pjo instead of Billy Batson or Danny Fenton or ANY Mcu characters
Talia is super hot but should be drawn in accurate arab clothes instead 'sexy assasian gear'(not that these two can't co-exist but you get what i mean),her personality is extremely rich and her stories are mega interesting,she's a good mom to Damian and literally never 'took advantage of Jason' seeing as That Scene In Lost Days was decanonized by it's writer who said it was ooc for her on his part,she should've been a mom figure to Stephanie in her Robin Days too since they would get along and she deserved her own run where she takes over Lexcorp to transform it into a force for good and become Superfam-adjacent to free herself from having only male connections
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amailboxlemur · 2 months
Text
Simon thoughts for season 3
My poor poor baby 💔💔💔💔
I love Simon. So much. And this season… he’s really going through it. Like the Erik bombshell really took over in episode 5 but up until then I genuinely think Simon was even more of a main character than Wille. I’m so glad they brought him back to the forefront this season.
Right off the bat, Simon is uncomfortable this season. He wants the trial? Settlement? Legal process? To just be over with. He hates that his classmates are staring at him. He wishes Wille gave him a heads up before the speech so he could have prepared himself.
His family life is a mess. Linda has finally clocked what’s going on and doesn’t trust him. Like I get it, he did steal and sell drugs. But also, he’s not using and more than anything he just got himself into a messed up situation. And it feels unfair that she missed what was going on for so long but now that she knows she’s acting like Simon is CURRENTLY drug dealing. Seeing him breakdown to Linda was absolutely heart wrenching, I’ve been waiting for the Simon breakdown and Omar did not disappoint.
And he’s not speaking to Sara. After doing everything to protect her for years she’s betrayed him in the worst way. I also think it’s interesting that they really leaned into SARA hating Micke and Simon only cut him off for her sake. After she comes home crying when Micke disappoints yet again it seems they’re on the path to mending their relationship but we’re not there yet.
Then there’s the online hate. It’s so easy to fall prey to the endless stream of negativity. Wille doesn’t understand, it’s always been his life and he’s probably at least somewhat accustomed to tuning it out. So Simon feels so alone in this. I also think the “the ones that like me only like me because I’m with wille” comment is very telling. It probably feels so fake and shallow to him. There’s also the “typical Latino” comment which… ick. I can’t imagine that’s the only comment of the sort out there.
So what does Simon do? He tries to carve out some positivity. He posts his song and receives some good comments immediately. He meets a young child who looks up to him. And gets a call right away from Wille that kind of… deflates his good mood. Why is Wille being left to “handle” Simon. And I can understand Wille trying to be gentle about it, but Simon just doesn’t understand the “rules” of the Royal court. It’s just an all around mess.
And then it gets worse. He starts getting hate comments even on his song. The kids at school are making fun of him. He even says he doesn’t love singing anymore which breaks my heart because music has always defined Simon. He gets a rock thrown through his window!! And the police are saying “ah yes, probably just a prank”.
No wonder he deletes his social media, no wonder he’s deleting himself. Nothing he does is right. The moment he gives in and joins the hillerska protest is so heartbreaking. From now on, these are the only ideals he gets to stand up for.
But he’s still insecure about his place with Wille. When Wille is distant after finding out about Erik, Simon immediately thinks he’s the problem, that he’s asking too many questions about what to wear to Wille’s birthday.
I want wilmon endgame. I believe in wilmon endgame. But Simon absolutely needed to take that pause at the end of episode 5. I hope they can save what they have without breaking up first. I hope they can have a genuinely honest all cards on the table conversation. I hope Simon can really let himself be fully vulnerable. And I hope to god wille listens, hears him and moves heaven and earth to make the situation better for Simon. Because the way it’s been going isn’t working.
I also can’t post this without a massive WOW to Omar’s acting this season. The role of Simon has always been complex but subtle. This season he really brings it with the big emotions.
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isa-ghost · 2 months
Note
ok
*insert coin*
Can I ask for q!Phil hcs BUT when he's fully un Bird mode :D
Jokes on you that's easy, those are just more plain qPhil hcs for me >:D
qPhil headcanons masterlist
Sometimes if he's in a fight that he's not taking seriously he'll put some goofy ass music on in his headphones. Some favorites include the Mario invincibility star theme, Waltz of the Meatball Man, and the kind of bubbly anime ending music that plays over an emotionally devastating scene
After way too much stress, once he gets Chayanne & Tallulah to bed and is on his own he'll go somewhere and just. Scream. For as long as it takes. And then he chugs tea or noodle broth to prevent his throat from dying on him.
Sleep schedules his beloathed <- wants to spend more time with a bunch of islanders he doesn't get to see often
Out of the 3 polycule members, Fit is best at cheering him up. He knows Phil best and the extent to which he lacks a filter sometimes is too powerful for Phil not to at least smile at
His wheeze laugh is the best thing ever to the the kids. If the two of them can make him wheeze, they know they've done their job right.
As soon as he knows something is safe (the maze, an event site like the code builds, that new mountain at old Spawn, etc) he's the first one to start exploring. He's been that way as long as he can remember ;)
*Slaps top of his head* This old man can fit so much survivor's guilt in him
He's only old in age and wisdom, if you try to imply he's geriatric he will get SO out of pocket about the things he's done with Fit & Etoiles and you will regret it
Okay so I've talked about how his worst fear is not having control, especially of himself. And I've talked about other fears of his, but I don't think I've mentioned his fear of loss yet. He tries to pretend he isn't, he'll insist he isn't, and to some degree he isn't Entirely wrong, but he is afraid. Being as old as he is means you get a bit desensitized to loss because it's natural when the things and people around you don't live for as long as you do. The part of it Phil fears, or maybe hates is a better word, is all the emotional turmoil after. That bone-deep ache of grief, the heaviness that refuses to leave his chest, how easy it is to emotionally compromise him, the hollowness that consumes him. The way he can't think or sleep properly, how his motivation is completely wiped out, how embarrassing it feels to not be at 100% in front of people. He HATES the aftermath of it all.
Excursions, Shuniji, and ofc Weirdest Year by C418 are Phil grief songs, in this essay I will
The Federation has learned that if they want Phil to attend an event he isn't particularly interested in, all they have to do is have really good food there, especially Latino food
He does legitimately gag a little when he kills a mob and flies or maggots come out of it. That's not just drama, he fr is like 🤢. It reminds him of the first time he saw Ender King's corpse
A fraction of the reason why he has people he trusts very deeply, like Fit, whitelisted on his security stuff is bc he knows if he ever got too depressed (like when the kids were missing), he'd never leave the house and just bum around feeling awful despite being restless. Having them whitelisted means they can get in and force him to get some air and stop festering in his emotions.
See I could get into a whole analysis abt this but like. So many of my angst hcs for him are abt how he's kinda shit at taking care of himself, esp when the people he cares for the most are removed from the equation. But it's not that he's incapable of it, he's not a baby or something like that. It's another part of how he's so locked into being the caretaker, the protector, the Strong One, the wise one, etc etc etc that he Hates being in the reversed role. He's gone so long without it that now it's foreign and unpleasant to him. He feels weak & like a burden. But at the same time, going so long without being in the reversed role is unhealthy and he NEEDS to be the one taken care of or protected sometimes. Everyone does. It's a double-edged sword: be the caretaker, shoulder everything & suffer OR be the one taken care of, feel awful about it for one reason or another. He can't win. He hates the latter but he needs it occasionally just like anyone else. He prefers the former, but the toll it takes over time is extensive.
It's why he'll do little things in an attempt to remedy it. To avoid being full-on taken care of for once while also not Only doing the reverse. Watching the sunset with the kids, adventuring in new and exciting places, sparring with friends, etc. His escape is making vivid fond memories to look back on and smile about, even if they don't always fix his emotional state. At least he isn't fully neglecting himself.
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luvhughes43 · 1 year
Text
soccer royalty | trevor zegras x reader
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luvhughes43 masterlist🌷
request: Trevor Zegras x Latina!reader where she’s the daughter, sister, and granddaughter of three famous soccer players from Mexico but when her dad retired they moved to the states to raise their family. Maybe shes very private with her life due to how famous her last name is in the Latino community, and when Trevor announces that they’re dating everyones freaking out because he’s dating soccer royalty and he’s just like “huh?” Because she never brought up who her family is. 
note: i know nothing about how soccer works
word count: 0.8k
soccer was in your blood. your father, grandfather, and brother were all accomplished and famous players. when your dad finally retired from the mexico national team, after helping mexico secure their first world cup win, your family name became cemented into the latino community. 
you grew up playing soccer in california, which came to no surprise to anyone. however, after an injury in your freshman year playing for the california golden bears, you were forced to quit the sport. after your injury, you sort of dropped of the face of the earth. you had felt so much pressure from your family, and families fans to be good at soccer, that now that it was all over for you, you were glad to just take a step back.
therefore, when you started dating pro athlete Trevor Zegras, you didn’t rush to tell him who your family was. he knew about your injury, and that your brother was on the mexico national team, but he didn’t know how famous your family was in the soccer world. 
trevorzegras
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trevorzegras night out🌃🔥
tagged: ynuser
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fan1 BRO IS DATING YN LN???
ynuser ❤️❤️
trevorzegras ❤️❤️
fan2 does he even know who she is…
jackhughes congrats man🔥🔥
trevorzegras thanks jacky wacky
fan3 jacky wacky??😭😭
jamie.drysdale where was my invite??
ynuser you’re coming next time
jamie.drysdale next time where ditching trevy and going out on our own liked by ynuser
trevorzegras jamie.drysdale 🤔
fan4 hard launching yn ln is crazyy😭😭
Trevor sat next to you on his couch scrolling through his insta comments. he read through all the comments talking about your family and how famous you were in the soccer/latino community. 
“hey … yn” Trevor started, tilting his phone so you could read his comments. you froze, completely unaware of how Trevor was going to react now that he knows the truth about your family. “why didn’t you tell me about your family?” he asked, switching over to google so he could search your family name. 
“I was going to tell you I just… i dont know” you trailed off which made Trevor snap his head in your direction and drop his phone on the couch.
“oh baby i'm not upset!” he announced, grabbing onto one of your hands. 
“i just, my whole life i’ve been attached to my familys name and i just… i don’t know. after my injury and everything i’ve just wanted privacy away from it all” you explained, and Trevor nodded along to your every word. 
now that he knew, you explained everything to him. the pressure you felt, the injury, your family's fame. he listened and understood, holding onto your hand the whole time you were talking to him. you weren’t ashamed of your family by no means, you loved them and you loved your community, it was just nice to have privacy. 
a few days later you walked into Trevors room for your weekly movie night. 
“what are you watching?” you asked as you laid down next to him.
Trevor set his phone down but you still heard the audio. 
“are you watching my dads soccer highlights?” you laughed, succeeding in grabbing Trevor's phone from him. on the screen was a twenty minute compilation of your dads “best moments”. 
you laughed again and Trevor huffed, grabbing his phone back from you. “what? he’s good?” Trevor said as he lightly gripped your waist and pulled you in to cuddle with him. 
“you’re cute” you smiled, pulling away to place a kiss on Trevors nose. Trevors smile lit up his face and you felt butterflies rising in your stomach.
“You’re cuter” he replied, pulling you down to place a kiss on your lips, his hands trailing down your sides. 
“mhmm, and by the way my family wants to meet you” you pulled away from Trevor who looked at you with wide eyes.
“they what?” he asked a little frantically which made you giggle.
you hummed in response, “yeah my brother is playing a game in a few weeks and since it’s off season for you…” 
“oh my god i'm going to meet your family,” Trevor said, pulling away from you and sitting up. “AND we’re going to a soccer game? what do i wear to a soccer game? do you think they’ll like me? where’s the game at? okay but what if-” Trevor went off on one of his tangents, nonstop asking you questions about your family, and how meeting them would be like. you answered his questions once he slowed down, happy that he was excited to meet your family.
ynuser just posted !
ynuser
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ynuser trevors first pro football (soccer) game🫡⚽️
tagged: trevorzegras
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yourbrother trevorzegras so cool to finally meet you!
ynuser yourbrother you have to come up for a hockey game now!
yourbrother ynuser i’m down
trevorzegras yourbrother it was cool to meet you too! loved the game⚽️💯
fan1 trevor meeting the family🔥
jamie.drysdale looking good trevorzegras
trevorzegras had the best time! thank you so much for bringing me! I love your family❤️
ynuser i love you😭❤️
trevorzegras i love you more❤️
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so-many-sainz · 1 year
Text
backstage bitch — lando norris
instagram edit
lando norris x trap singer!yn
fc: nicki nicole, argentinian singer.
i'm sorry for all the argentina references, u asked for it.
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
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landonorris I swear i love paris.
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pierregasly 👀😂❤️
bizarrap nice to meet you man!
yninstagram ????? quien eraaaaa 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻 (who do you think you are?? but in a friendly way)
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yninstagram Magic night in París. Thanks to everyone who came to the show last night, it was amazing. 💗💗💗 Nos volamos. 🚀
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bizarrap te amo amiga 🤏🏻🐒🤎
iambeckyg tiny 🤏🏻🤏🏻💖
ynslovies WE LOVE U SO MUCH YOU WERE SPECTACULAR
pierregasly queria decirle bambinooo 😂🎤🎤
yninstagram stream mala vida, thank you!
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f1driversinfo Pierre and Lando with @bizarrap at YN LN´s concert in Paris last night.
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yninstagram icons 🤟🏻🤟🏻🤟🏻
l4ndoxlatam YN WTF OMGG
bizarrap and lando.jpg added to their story
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two weeks later...
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landonorris santa came super early 🤠🤏🏻😏
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carlossainz55 🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻🤏🏻😂
yninstagram how convenient!! do you think you can be my new beat maker?
bizarrap ex-fucking-cuse me???? ↪️yninstagram you're not that popular anymore, sorry
pierregasly so you were a good boy this year 😏😏😏
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yninstagram otra noche llorandote🌕💖🎤
📸 @lando.jpg
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landonorris god i'm talented
yninstagram actually it's impossible for me to look bad, you just have a cute target
badbunnypr VAMOS MI REINA 💗 ARG X PR
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landonorris getting the complete rockstar experience.
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bizarrap stop leaking my music bro
yninstagram thanks for the promo, stream ya me fui ft. duki 🤟🏻😂
landonorris anytime 🤏🏻💖
carlossainz55 does this make you a groupie??
landonorris oh.my.god i'm a backstage bitch 🙃 ↪️yninstagram a hot one
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landonorris MIAMI with a boyband outfit.
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danielricciardo the miami hotties ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
yninstagram cute
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yninstagram vamos checo 🤠💚🤍❤️
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schecoperez gracias yn!! 😂😂❤️
carlossainz55 i'm latino too
yninstagram mexico is closer to arg, perdon
landonorris i'm deeply wounded
yninstagram no english today, we're in miami show some respect
yninstagram added to their story
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yninstagram que lugar increible miami, con el biza fuimos a ver la formula 1 y terminamos en una fiesta completamente random. I lied to juan today, i wanted lando to win. I'm sorry landonorris i love you. 💖 what an amazing place is miami, we went to see the f1 race with bizarrap and finished the night in a random party.
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landonorris love you baby 🤏🏻💖 i forgive you for the treason on live tv.
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fatphobiabusters · 1 year
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Scientific articles and official health websites talk about lactose intolerance the same way they talk about fatness.
This is how the National Institutes of Health describes it: "Lactose intolerance is a clinical syndrome that manifests with characteristic signs and symptoms upon consuming food substances containing lactose, a disaccharide." "Lactose intolerance is a common disease; however, it is rare in children younger than 5. It is most often seen in adolescents and young adults."
It's a syndrome. A disease. A medical problem with symptoms and signs.
And then...
"On average, 65% of the world's population is lactose intolerant. The prevalence of lactose intolerance is variable among different ethnicities. It is most common in African Americans, Hispanics/Latinos, and Asians and least prevalent in people of European descent."
Wait wait wait, hold up. It's in 65% of the world population??? 65% of all humans are lactose intolerant??? 65% of the world is diseased and has such a serious health condition?
Then you start learning more about it outside of these medical articles and organizations. You learn that other animals can't digest lactose past infancy either. Not even cats, even though we all believe they love milk. Animals, including humans, have a special enzyme as infants that allows babies to drink breastmilk. And after a child stops drinking that milk, the enzyme goes away, leaving the child unable to digest milk anymore.
In the 300,000 years that humans have existed, drinking milk past infancy did not start happening until about 10,000 years ago. It wasn't until ancient populations in Europe who were pastoralists, and thus raised cows as livestock, forced their bodies to drink milk and caused it to slowly became a genetic mutation that spread throughout different human populations over thousands of years.
You realize that the ability to drink lactose is not the norm. It's not the default body at all. The ability to digest lactose is a human adaptation that only some humans have, like missing wisdom teeth, blue eyes, and red hair. Lactose intolerance isn't abnormal. It's what human bodies were designed to do in the first place! No wonder it's "rare in children younger than 5." That's when babies still have the ability to drink breastmilk!
And what does such a serious disease as lactose intolerance require?
Not consuming dairy.
That's it.
This "disease" requires avoiding lactose and taking a pill to help you digest it if you need to in a given situation. And if you don't? The awful consequence of this disease is DEATH—oh, wait, that was a typo. I meant diarrhea. Dairy products like butter and some cheese have very low levels of lactose compared to straight up milk and can sometimes even be eaten without any pills for lactose intolerance at all.
So then why do health organizations and scientific articles consider this a "disease" when it's just genetic diversity? Well, you were already given the answer.
The people most able to digest lactose? White people. Europe. America. Canada. Australia. Groups so often considered the default. The quotes I gave are from the American government itself, as described by the organization's website: "Founded in 1887, the National Institutes of Health today is one of the world's foremost medical research centers, and the Federal focal point for medical research in the United States. The NIH, comprising 27 separate Institutes and Centers, is one of eight health agencies of the Public Health Service which, in turn, is part of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services."
It's also important to recognize that the US government extremely subsidizes dairy. There are underground caves of billions of pounds of cheese surplus that the government has stockpiled. Billions upon billions of dollars have been spent on keeping the dairy industry afloat, no pun intended, to the point that everything from those "Got milk?" advertisements to milk in school-provided lunches to Taco Bell's double steak quesadillas were funded by federal tax dollars put into some cheesy goodness propaganda. Federal tax dollars were even used after the 2010 recession to bail out Domino's and keep the cheese uh-flowing.
So in a country where most people can digest lactose, most of the people who can't do so have bodies that are not viewed as the default already, and the government is extremely invested in getting people to eat dairy products, it becomes clear why that country—that government—believes lactose intolerance to be a disease.
Then when you consider:
how fat people are not viewed as the default body either and face immense oppression
how the facts of fatness being incredibly genetic and intentional weight loss not being sustainable in the slightest are kept under the radar from the public
how weight is not actually equal to health when you take all context into account beyond stereotypes and studies with horrendous methodology
how the BMI was created by a statistician (who was never a doctor in the first place and whose work was later used to support eugenics) during the 1800s in order to figure out which body was the average, not the healthiest, in select populations of white European men in the 19th century (and thus which body was the "default," the "norm," superior)
how the population measuring tool that is the BMI, never meant or designed to be used on an individual scale, was not commonly used as a measurement of "health" until insurance companies wanted a way to fabricate reasons for charging people more money
how the weight loss industry makes hundreds of billions of dollars every year off of pretending fatness is inherently bad and selling a "cure" that doesn't work while blaming consumer error to keep people buying said "cure"
and how creating a weight-based social hierarchy benefits the people on top who have power over the rest
...you start to understand why fatness is medicalized.
It's even a common talking point of people and companies obsessed with dieting that humans have evolved to hold onto fat and refuse to lose it in case of potential starvation. In fact, facing starvation even changes your body to want to hold onto body fat even more than it did previously, which includes when you diet since dieting is just self-inflicted starvation. When you face starvation, your descendants are more likely to have genetics that prefer fatness too. And there's evidence of fatness in human populations going back tens of thousands of years despite diet culture wanting people to believe fatness is a new trend due to people's "lifestyle choices." The Venus of Willendorf, an ancient figurine of a fat woman, is estimated to have been created around 30,000 years ago, and there are numerous other Venus figurines of fat women from that era too.
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It's human diversity, but people who aren't fat and who pedal diet culture can make so much money and obtain such powerful positions by pretending fatness is abnormal, inhuman, and wrong. Why give up an easy money-making punching bag or admit that your body is not the only "correct" human body when you have no reason not to and so many incentives for keeping the status quo?
As a side note, one of the best examples of diet culture is how you can find countless news articles about whether milk is "good" or "bad" for you despite humans having consumed milk for the past 10,000 years. I think by year one thousand we would have learned if milk was "bad" for us, but the headline "Milk still okay" doesn't get a news website any clicks.
-Mod Worthy
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