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ivystoryweaver · 2 months

Note

hi ivy!!!!

congratulations on the anniversary, I think you’re doing amazing and I’m really impressed with the frequency at which you put out stories

Could you please write me some thing super soft with Santi? That’s my baby. Maybe something smut but loving and communication, ys know, LaL style

love you

When You Come Back Home

"But on really good days, you get a picture of him."

Awww hey bb, you are so sweet. ILY! The muse has been kind lately - you know it ebbs and flows, so it's always nice to catch up. (Until I went on vacation, that is)

Yes ofc Santi is your baby, I'm so honored you trust me to write something soft, especially mentioning the amazing LAL! Leather and Lace is sooo good and you're a genius at world building.

Word Count: 3.9k

Santiago x f!reader, fluff, married life, flirting, dirty talk, lingerie, oral, fingering, p in v, language, absolute smitten husband!Santiago

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Gazing listlessly out the window, you idly pass your off day, waiting for word from your husband. Despite the ease electronic communication provides you, Santiago writes you letters, and sends polaroids. It may be the thing you love about him most - he wants you to have something tangible when he's not there to hold you, kiss you and gaze into your eyes.

Your collection of polaroids covers the side of the fridge, top to bottom, the bulletin board behind your bedroom door, you have a few on the bathroom mirror and even a couple in your car. Most of them tell the story, through scenery, of each and every place he's visited or worked.

But on really good days, you get a picture of him.

Santiago practically vibrates with energy - always on the move, ready for a mission or an adventure. When he's home, he inevitably takes on a project, hosts an entertaining barbecue, whisks you away to a special trip, and his stamina is no less vigorous when he gets you alone, between the sheets.

The mail truck rumbles around the corner onto your street, nudging you out of idleness. You rise to your feet, ready to collect the mail the moment the truck pulls up to the next driveway. Your bare feet hit the sizzling Florida pavement, hurrying you toward your destination.

But there is no letter, not today.

Slightly deflated, you rush back inside, grateful as the air conditioning kisses your skin. That's the thing about snail mail: it's unpredictable, which makes receiving it such a delight. Oh well, at least you'll be able to see your husband's face later when he calls.

Shuffling to the kitchen, you pour yourself some fruit infused water, rolling your eyes at how quickly the Florida heat can parch your throat.

Then you hear the front door open. The voice of your husband almost makes you drop your glass.

"Oh my god, Santi!" You screech, rounding the corner and flying into his waiting arms.

"Heyyy, mi cielo," he breathes against your ear as he holds you close. He's not a tall man, but he's a solid wall of strength - his forearms flexing along the curve of your back as he molds your body to his.

"How...are you here?" You gasp, sinking your fingers into the thickness of his salt and pepper curls.

"Home early," he states the obvious. "Missed you too much." His mouth chases after yours, tasting your soft lips one at a time. The heat of his breath melts you in his embrace, and it occurs to you that this experience far surpasses a new Polaroid.

"Let me take you out tonight, bebécita," he hums against your mouth between kisses. "Got you something pretty to wear."

You assume he's brought you a dress, but it's something much more...shiny.

"Don't ask me where it came from. I don't think you want to know," he cryptically warns, earthy eyes sparkling with a playful glimmer.

"Please tell me there were no drug lords involved," you half joke as he fastens a gorgeous diamond bracelet around your wrist. "Florida is way too close to all that shit."

"No drug lords. I promise." He grins, kissing your mouth for good measure.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Music pulses, colorful lights flash - the tang of alcohol fills the air. Santiago's hips move expertly to a familiar tune, the Spanish lyrics energizing the delicious Bachata he leads. You gladly follow, feeling success as a dancer, simply by matching his movement and energy.

Spinning you a few extra times to show you off, Santi grins as you laugh delightedly. You tend to recharge with alone time, but your husband needs this - friends, fun and some sort of action. You gladly give it to him, knowing that when he gets you home, you will have him all to yourself for days on end, with no one to disrupt your bubble.

“Mi cielo," he cinches you tightly against him, the shift of his hips pulsing against yours, urging you to drag him by the collar to a dark corner. "Ready to go?"

You know he's not ready. But he checks in with you, just to be sure, to give you an out.

"Already tired after one dance, Garcia?" You tease, syncing the movement of his body with your own, the motion honestly a tad scandalous for the dance floor. "Thought you wanted to show me off tonight. Me and this mysterious bracelet."

He smiles brightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight as he dips you and finishes the song with a flourish - trumpets wailing as the bongos boom out a fantastic finale.

"They're good," you huff out breathlessly, motioning toward the live band on the stage.

He nods, leading you by the hand toward the bar as the band eases into the next dance - a merengue.

The night goes on this way, with a generous amount of alcohol, a group of your best friends and a few sensational slow dances that have you desperate to get him alone.

During one particularly smooth Rumba, he kisses a trail down the side of your neck, the tequila lowering his inhibitions to a scandalous level. "Ready now, Señora Garcia?" He smoothly husks, working his lips over yours and stealing your breath as his hips once again swirl into yours.

"Si, mi amor," you gush back to him, noticing the sparkle of your bracelet as he leads you outside by the hand.

A ride share carries you safely home, but Santi's long, dextrous fingers have already temptingly edged under the hem of your shirt, anxious for the caress you both crave.

"Behave yourself," you teasingly admonish, swatting his hand away even as he nibbles on your neck, his breath ghosting your skin.

"Can't wait to get you out of this and underneath me," he rumbles on your ear, linking his fingers with yours, simply because there is nowhere else he can put them without earning another stare from the rearview mirror.

"Hey," you whisper, returning the favor by breathing hotly, making him shiver with want. "What makes you think I won't be on top?"

He growls, gripping your chin with his free hand and opening his mouth over yours - the heat of his tongue setting you on fire. You forget, for a few heavenly moments, that you're in the car with a complete stranger.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Stumbling through the front door like teenagers, your husband can't help but manhandle you, shutting the door dramatically before pushing you up against it - his strong hands gripping your hips as he touches his forehead to yours.

"How uncomfortable did we make that driver?" He jokes between lingering kisses to your lips.

"Don't worry, I gave him a good tip," You remind him, locking your wrists behind his neck and arching against him temptingly.

You carry on this way, endlessly kissing, caressing, bodies craving contact at every point. Santi hooks your thigh around his own, thrusting slowly up into the center of you as his free hand slips back underneath your top. “You really wanna do this here, bebécita?” He whispers between kisses.

Santiago is in amazing shape and you’re stupidly in love with him, but gone are the years of sneaking around for wild quickies against doors. Still…it’s tempting.

“Maybe not,” you smile against his lips. “Got something new for you too. Why don’t I go change?”

“Mmm, okay.” Although he agrees, he squeezes your hips, shifting up to rock against you with renewed vigor, lips trailing across your jaw to suck a mark into the flesh of your neck.

“God, baby…” you pant, meeting his thrusts eagerly, dizzy and euphoric from the alcohol and the dancing…and him.

“Missed you so much.” He clambers through the fog of his own lust and pulls you into a protective embrace, helping you stand up straight, so he can take you upstairs, as you requested.

But the world has spun off its axis tonight, and as he takes you by the hand once more, the way he loves to do, you find yourself stumbling down with him on the staircase, giggling like you did when you were younger - when he took your virginity and made you fall in love with him.

“Shit, sorry,” he half apologizes, his legs falling open as you drape your body over his, your thighs spreading wide across his lap.

“Told you I’d be on top,” you cheekily toy with him, shifting your aching core to rub over his obvious erection.

“Fuck…honey,” he growls, done with all the teasing and flirting. He pushes hungry hands under your shirt, feeling you up as his lips chase yours. As his tongue rolls over yours, he moans into your mouth when he feels the softness of your bra. You wore his favorite - the black lace with touches of emerald green satin. He bought it for you overseas - the biggest surprise of all being that he got the right size in a beautiful bra that’s actually comfortable and supportive.

But that’s how Santiago is: observant, beautiful, comfortable, supportive and sexy. Weird to have a bra remind you of your stunning husband but well…

He all but tears the shirt over your head, restraining himself only enough to keep from pulling or otherwise messing up your hair. Santiago is an expert at you. He knows when to push or pull or lead or follow - when to be rough or test your boundaries, and when to protect you and love you softly.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he rumbles, hands reverently steadying you on top of him by your soft shoulders, before he drags them down to cup your lace covered tits. You arch into his expert touch, slowly rocking in his lap, putting on a little show for him.

You’ve changed over the years. Your body naturally isn’t what it was the first time he took you. But Santiago never ceases to make you feel prized and adored and so beautiful. He makes you believe it somehow, even when you silently criticize yourself in the mirror.

So you let him adore you - you’re safe with him as he touches you all over, worshipping your curves and soft, plush places.

“I love you so much,” you breathe out as he nudges at your stomach, attempting to get you to lift up so he can take off your pants.

“Love you too, baby. But I’ll love you more when you’re naked.”

You snort at his cheesy forwardness, realizing he’s a bit more horny while you’re swooning with romance. You are on the stairs, after all. But he’s determined, rolling you beside him and yanking at fabric until you’re bare from the waist down. So much for the matching cheeky panties.

You forget to care that he didn’t mention them when he spreads your legs wide and drags his knuckles through your wet heat. The overexposure you feel dwindles away as he leans over to brush open-mouthed kisses against your stomach. Steadying yourself, you push your fingers through his curls. “This isn’t fair, babe. You’re still completely dressed.”

Peering up at you through endlessly long lashes, he smirks. “I don’t need to be naked to eat you out.”

“Santi,” you gasp in mock surprise, as he quickly and tauntingly kisses a trail down to your core. “What has gotten into you?”

He grins. "That a trick question? Oh shit - "

You watch him wince in pain. "Knees?"

He groans, nodding. "Knees."

"Come here, Papacito," you tease, climbing to your feet and offering him your hand.

The sight of you standing above him on the stairs, naked except for your bra and a sparkling bracelet quickly convinces him to follow.

You rush ahead of him to your bedroom, feeling a dizzy, freeing rush after a night of dancing and foreplay, but so ready to get this man of yours on your familiar, comfortable bed. After ordering him to lie down, you slip into the silky little number you ordered specifically for his next homecoming.

Slithering on top of him, you yank at his belt buckle.

“Just tell me what to do, mi reina. Make it easy for me.” He grins in self-satisfaction.

"I just want you out of these clothes," you fire back, wordlessly working him free enough for you to take hold of.

He groans out something incoherent as you tease the hot, heavy length of him, gliding your hand up and down his shaft.

"Just like that," he pants, his hips involuntarily bucking as you lean over and swirl your tongue all over his tip. "Fuck, I missed that." Slipping his hand around the nape of your neck, he has to restrain himself from thrusting up into your hot, wet mouth.

Santiago knows there's not another woman like you, anywhere. He's traveled over half the world, a couple dozen times over, so he knows. It's not just that you're beautiful. You radiate beauty. The trust you place in him and the freedom you give him to be who he is, to pursue his career, is as much a siren call, luring him back to you every chance he can manage, as it is a steady anchor for him.

As you take him deeper, his breath quickens at the thought of coming down your throat, but somehow, he's distracted by a need to reclaim you. To take possession of your body the way he dreamed of doing on the dance floor. As your lithe body swayed, matching his rhythm, following his lead, he noticed the men devouring you with their eyes.

He would grip your hips tighter, grind against you possessively and trail his lips down the side of your neck, marking you as his own.

But before he can claw his way out of the haze you're literally sucking him into, you pull off his cock with a pop, lips wet and pouting.

"Take these off," you whine, yanking at the waistband of his pants, attempting to pull them down over his thick thighs. "Can't reach all of you."

He surprises you by climbing off the bed to undress completely. With only moonlight spilling in through the bedroom window, he wears the vigor of his last mission on his skin, darker from days in the sun. His toned muscles flex with every motion, fresh bruises and old scars telling the story of his adventurous life.

You're way past giving him a lecture every time he returns home with a new piece of the story etched onto his skin.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, you stretch out your fingers, tracing a healing bruise just under his ribs, situated beside a small, angry cut. Your eyes lock with his and he nods, letting you know that whoever inflicted this pain is taken care of. You press your lips there, learning the new marks of him, claiming this new part of him as your own.

"Show me where else," you plead, but he's shaking his head, easing down to hover you, his body flexing deliciously as he rolls you underneath him and covers your lips with his.

You moan into his mouth as his hands roam all over the shape of you, just like while you were out dancing, but wilder, more possessive. His tongue licks deeper as he grips your hips, positioning you underneath the hungry thrust of his hips against your thigh.

Your fingers slip around his neck, tenderly fingering the scar from his surgery before sliding into his hair, yanking hard enough to pull his mouth free of yours and earn you an appreciative moan. You yank again, harder, the leverage enabling you to pull your silk-covered breasts flush against the bare heat of his chest.

Slinging one leg around the back of his thigh, you meet his steady grinding eagerly, already panting as he smirks against your cheek.

"You've been wet all night, haven't you?" He teases, tugging your earlobe into his mouth. "All those men watching you dancing, but no one's touching my wife but me."

He sucks a mark into your neck, pushing one hand up your inner thigh, kneading the soft flesh, but stopping short of your aching, wet core.

"Wanted to touch you right here, make you come, soak those pretty panties," he taunts, tracing one finger over your puffy folds.

"Why didn't you?" A pout escapes your lips as you desperately attempt to shift your hips, to chase his fingers for any sort of friction. "Wanna come for you, Santi, show them I'm yours."

At that confession, he slides two thick fingers inside you, curling them forward into your spongy softness, beckoning your hips forward.

"Want me to finger you next time we dance, baby?" He huffs against your lips, rubbing the heavy length of his cock against the slick on your thigh, already dripping from your sopping core. "Wear a pretty dress for me and let me feel you up? You would be louder than the music when you come. Dirty girl.”

Your back arches off the bed at the sound of his voice goading you - something he does often during long distance sex. Your mind briefly drifts to the half dozen times he’s nearly taken you over the edge with his voice alone, uttering filthy things, finally allowing you to touch yourself for some gratification, or at least relief.

Before you can beg him to keep talking, he swipes his thumb over your clit, working a third finger into your hole, expertly coaxing your first orgasm out of you. Your thighs shake, chest heaving as you tremble and shudder around his fingers. “Oh fuck, Santi…so good,” you pant. “Missed you so much.”

Chasing after his lips with your own, you press a tempting kiss to his mouth, licking it open even as he strokes you past overstimulation, smiling into your kiss as you squirm to get away from him.

“Too much?” he grins, nibbling your bottom lip, swirling his middle finger like a cyclone inside you, just because he can.

“No. Want your cock.” You bite his lip and he hisses as you wrap smooth fingers around his hard, leaking length, pushing your thumb roughly over his tip.

Shimmying your hips closer to what you really want, you beckon him forward, rubbing his tip between your folds. But he resists you.

“Say that again,” he murmurs, biting gently on your jaw, then your throat, his hot breath making you tremble with desire.

Twisting your wrist, you work your hand up and down the length of his aching dick. “Want your cock. Want you inside me so bad.” Your tongue swirls inside his ear and he stutters out a gasp, shifting his hips to push his fat tip into your dripping hole.

He moans out your name, thrusting all the way inside. Your warm, wet walls hug him perfectly and he settles in that spot he knows you love. The stimulation and warmth of feeling him flush against you has you desperately rutting against him.

His hand grips your luscious thigh, pushing it up, folding you and opening you wider for him. Shifting his hips, he pumps into you faster, this angle hitting you so deep your head drops to the pillow as you whimper, overcome with how delicious it is to feel your husband, home, in your arms, in your bed, deep inside you where he belongs.

Grunts of pleasure pass his lips as he makes you his again, after weeks of nothing but a blurry, in-and-out video or sometimes, a crackly voice over a satellite phone.

“Don’t know how I ever leave this pussy,” he huffs, his body rolling over yours, spearing you open, molding you to the shape of his cock after so long without it. “That’s it. I fucking quit. I’m gonna spend the next month inside you.”

You know he’s not serious. Not yet anyway, but you love to hear it when he reclaims you like this. How he’ll forget everything else just to spend all his time coming inside you. And oh, does he make up for being gone when he’s home.

"This feels good," he sighs, hands tracing the shape of you through the silky lingerie you're wearing for him. His fingers drag and push the soft fabric until he's taking it over your head, licking his lips at the way your tits bounce as he fucks into you. "You feel better, though."

"Come here," you plead, luring him down all the way on top of you, kissing him wildly as his chest settles against yours. A light sheen of sweat forms between you, slick and hot as you sling your legs all the way around his waist, pulling him harder and deeper, if it's possible.

The thrusting of his tongue inside your mouth almost seems to match his hips and you grip onto him for dear life, holding him so tightly, your bodies rutting faster and harder in one deliciously fluid movement, so in sync you move as one.

The friction against your clit has you on the edge. You're unable to meet his hungry kiss with anything more than a long, breathy moan.

"Come on, baby, I'm so fuckin' close," he rumbles, his rhythm faltering as your walls hug his shaft, fluttering and pulsing, soaking his cock before you shriek in pleasure. Gripping him tighter, so wet and so tight he comes with you, filling you with his warmth, dragging his lips across your shoulder to bury his strangled cry in your neck.

You cradle his head, kissing his cheek, his ear, carding your fingers through his damp curls and whispering how much you adore him as he comes back to himself, finally going still, safe in your arms.

You rest there together, mouths fusing for a languid kiss, bodies joined and sated, sharing one another's breath. Santi holds you so close and you know he needs this. Needs to stay inside you, connected to you, wrapped up together, the heat of your bodies, your sweat and the slick between your legs raw and real and grounding for a man who has seen too much and is gone too often.

This is when Santiago is his most vulnerable, and inevitably makes his way to the question voicing his deepest fear. "Don't let me go."

"Never," you swear, wrapping your arms and legs around him tighter and squeezing him fiercely. "I'll always be right here, you know that."

He feels the slight scrape of your new diamond bracelet against the nape of his neck, toying with the scar from his operation. He knows diamonds won't make up for the fact that he's not here, and he doesn't want to pretend that it means something deep - such as he's with you whenever you wear it.

You're both years past that bullshit now. It's a beautiful piece and it belongs on his beautiful wife - it's that simple.

He asks you every time he comes home, if it's too much. Makes you promise you'll tell him if doubt has crept into the back of your mind. He does it now, and you know what he means.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He kisses you again, his body finally relaxing completely.

"Besides," you tease, "You're going to be inside me for the next month, remember? So neither of us are going anywhere."

He was teasing about that. You know it and he knows it. But now that you say it out loud...

"Yes ma'am." The next mission can wait.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Ivy's 1st Ficiversary Celebration

Miscellaneous Characters Masterlist (Santiago, Leto, Nathan, Llewyn, Orestes)

Main Masterlist

updates blog @ivystoryupdates

#ivy's ficiversary celebration #thanks for the ask!#📥 inbox #asks #📤 answered #ivy replies #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #husband!santiago garcia #triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #lovely moots 💕#WYCBH fic

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romana-after-dark · 7 months

Text

Room's on Fire: Girl on Fire

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Everyone is together, everything is complete.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

WARNINGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!!!

Extra warnings for chapter: Pregnancy, breeding kink, violent sex, domestic violence on a man, gunshots, references to murder,, death, torture, all the horrors. The end was disturbing even to me, so read with caution. If you find the end was too much, just ask me what happens and I'll tell you. not super plot important but like it was pointed out, the sex is how we see dynamic shifts. Mentions of mpreg fantesy but no mpreg will happen bc they arent actually god, just insane.

3.7k words

A/N: Some pov shifts. Madonna, Jonah, Rey, Santi all get POV's.

A.N2: context for song quote, Alicia wrote girl on fire after the birth of her son.

Support writers! Reblog and leave comments!

"She's on top of the world Hottest of the hottest girls say Oh, we got our feet on the ground And we're burning it down Oh, got our head in the clouds And we're not coming down This girl is on fire" ~ Girl On Fire, Alicia Keys

“It’s okay, you’re gonna do great.” Rey assured her, sitting on a table in the dressing room despite a chair being right there. His lanky legs liked to dangle, you noticed, or sometimes perch up in high places. He reminded you of a bird sometimes, lithe and graceful and seemed to float on his feet.

“What if they don’t like me? What if something happens? What if there’s another uprising or someone wants revenge on me because of my dad-”

“The people love you, and they were going to love you even more with this announcement. Jonah’s not going to let anything happen to you, you know that.”

Your face grows warm at the mention of Jonah. He had acted distant with you since the instance of Frankie and you on the horse, and wouldn’t let you see his face when he showed up the next morning with bruises. In fact, you’d hardly seen him at all. Rey was your primary guard, and Will had talked about moving your room to one with an attached room for Reyansh so that he could stay with you at all times. It seemed everyone knew Iris and Rey were an item, or at least they understood Reyansh was not a threat. You had begged Will not to switch around rooms. The reason given was that you liked your room, but really, you were hoping that you’d be moved into a room with one of your husbands. You weren’t visited by the incubus the night they all slept in your room.

Still, Jonah looked out for you. Under your dress right now was his bulletproof vest.

A knock on the door.

“Come in.” Iris called to the door, still working on your hair.

Will entered the room. “Are you ready, Madonna?”

Before you opened your mouth, Iris replied. “You could use her real name, you know.”

Will didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes on you. “Her name is irrelevant, her position is everything.” When he turns and sees Reyansh, Will frowns. “What are you doing in here?”

Iris was quick to answer his unvoiced question. “He only came in after she was dressed.”

He instructs Reyansh to ready the carriage. Once he was out, Will turned to you with a smile. “You look stunning, Madonna.” Your heart swells with love for your handsome husband, dressed in his loose white shirt. In your hair, small white flowers adored you, carefully placed and worked in by Iris’s hands. She was incredible, making your dress too. It was colorful, with a color representing all four of your husbands. Under it, a bulletproof vest. No one in delta outside of guardsmen was allowed guns, but he wanted to be safe.

“Wow…” Will whispers, taking you in. There was just the slightest swell of a bump, you wondered if it was just weight gained from eating more these few months. Will took you into his arms kissing you deeply and feeling your stomach. Iris mumbles close enough as you’re pulled away. He turns back to her only a moment. “Make sure everything is ready when we’re back, please.”

Iris sighs, “It always is, Mr. Miller.”

Jonah cocked his gun. “Same as last time, honey. Anything happens, you come with me. Those guys can handle themself. I get hurt, do not stop for me. Just run. Someone will come find you, you just keep yourself alive, got it?” His brown eyes were on you for the first time in a long time, and you relaxed. Jonah’s eyes always calm you. It’s scary, knowing you were responsible for not just you, but someone else as well. The priestess stood at the balcony to the side, your husbands flanking you. Pope to your right, Francisco to your left, Ben to his left and Will to Popes right. Just as you were married.

“Men! Women! Children of Delta!” She shouts to the crown. “I present your Gods and your Madonna!” The crowd erupts into screams, and your heart fills with love for your people. “And!” A hush falls over the ground, waiting breaths quiet as they wait for the news. “I present to you, THE SAVIOR!”

The sound was deafening, a noise that shocked you and made you stumble back. To your surprise, Pope was behind you. It was a greater surprise when he rucked up your skirt.

Immediately your hands, out of instinct, go to bring the material down but his fingers quickly dig into your skin, warning you to behave. So, you stand there, humiliated, left hand gripping Francisco’s tighter. Pope loved you, he loved you and he’d never do something just to humiliate you! How stupid of you for feeling that way. This child was long prayed for, they and your body belonged to your husbands, belonged to Delta. Pope lifted your dress over the small bump,exposing your underwear to the crown. No one outside of your husband, a few house motherns and prefects had seen you in your underwear, so this was difficult…

But then Pope kissed your neck, and the worries melted away. Will, Francisco and Ben come to you, each placing a hand on your stomach as the priestess shouts, reaffirming that the savior’s parentage was of all four, that each of your husbands fathered this baby. You were called the vessel for their seed.

Then, you were placed on a tour. On a sitting carriage with all 4 of your husbands, you were paraded around to cheering people, the faces of women from your dormitory and even your room recognizable in the crowds. One woman whose bed was next to yours shot you a deadly glare as you passed by. She was mean, frequently detailing her escapades with Ben and throwing your own lack of attention in your face, but who was laughing now? Ben choose her for a short term fuck. You had a greater purpose.

When you reached the mansion again, the gates were crowded with people reaching out for you, and although there was fear as the mass of the crowd grew, there was also power. The savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned lay in your holy womb, you were the bringer of life. YOU were the divine mother.

The gunshot brought you back to reality.

“WILL!” You scream as your husband is shot backwards, stumbling into his brother’s arms who he shoved out of the way of the bullet. Jonah didn’t care about Will, however. He didn’t care about Ben falling at him brothers side under the weight. He didn’t even care about Francisco scrambling to grab at Ben in the chaos, and he certainly didn’t care about Santiago dragging Frankie away.

He cared about, sobbing in his arms desperately trying to get to your fallen love. Jonah wrapped an arm around you and pulled you away into the riotous, scampering crowd. You needed to get away from the shooter.

“NO!” You bawl loudly. Howling that he’s dying, that you need to be with him, but Jonah didn’t give a shit about that prick. He calls to Reyansh, who jumped out of the carriage the second the gun goes off. It was intentional, having Rey at the helm with him; only Rey would care enough about you out of all the guardsmen that Jonah could depend on him. Into the madness, you wouldn’t stop screaming and that rainbow dress of yours was not helping the situation.

“Rey! The tunic!” Jonah had to spin you around to disorient you enough to make you stop fighting in your hysteria, forcing your arms up while Rey slid a long, brown standard tunic over your body, making you blend into the neutral tones on the crown. Jonah clamped down over your mouth and pulled you away as the center of the shooting grew further away, Reynash covering you both. Once at the posting for a guard, Rey held you as Jonah mounted the steed and pulled you up, riding off with you.

You hadn't stopped sobbing for hours. Reyansh watched in concern, wanted so badly to comfort you lest the heaving and thrashing harm the baby or yourself. Rey loved children, he couldn’t wait for a day he could take Iris away and raise a family together, to finally be with her intimately and live a life with her.

Even if children weren’t in the picture (Iris wanted one in theory, but was hesitant to bring one into this world, understandably.) he’d cherish a life growing old with his lover. Maybe they’d some orphaned child; Iris had a soft spot for children in need. Her maternal instincts are why, despite not wanting to be friends or even really know her, Iris took care of the girl. Iris had ten years on the naive child. Continuously, she had warned him about keeping his distance, not raising suspicion that anything was happening between him and the girl, but it wasn’t his fault she was damn delightful. However, despite her obvious beauty, talents and sweet demeanor, nothing compared to Iris.

Reyansh could wax poetry about her all day long, and often did. He barely had any free time, most of the pockets of time he had, Rey liked to help Iris with her Herculean tasks, the laundry and dishes like Sisyphus and the boulder. He couldn’t take away the fact the next day would be filled with more dishes, more wall washing, more cooking, but he’d gladly sacrifice an hour of sleep so she could gain one. With him at all times, however, was his notebook and pen. As he sat at a mount or perch Rey liked to try his hand at poetry and writing.

Sometimes it was about the beauty of nature, the flowers he planted and gardens he kept, how they gave him joy during difficult times. Sometimes it was about the complex nature of family, of Iris and Jonah, Santiago and what he knew of Beatriz, which wasn’t much, the strained love and hatred between Will and Ben, or his own desire for fatherhood. Sometimes he wrote about the 5 lovers, the girl, the men who claimed to be gods, how each individual relationship strengthened them and weakened them in their own ways and how the girl changed things for better or for worse. Mostly, he just wrote about Iris, the prettiest flower he had.

He caught a glimpse of Jonah at the window, motioning him to come out. This safe house was his idea. Apparently, he and Marcus used to escape here sometimes.

Rey tries to tell you he’s stepping outside but you aren’t listening, curled up in a ball on the bed sobbing. He makes his exit.

Once outside, Jonah offers him a sip from his flask but Rey declines.

“I was going to ask how she is, but I can hear my answer.” The sound of you wailing penetrates the walls.

“How Will?”

“He’ll live, unfortunately.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” Jonah sighs, lighting a cigarette. “Wish those fuckers would just die.”

There was a long pause, Reyansh thinking hard before saying what he was thinking. He didn’t defy or talk back to Jonah, he respected him as his superior and, for all intents and purposes, his father in law. But Jonah was flawed. “You’re the one with a gun, Jonah”

Jonah inhaled a long drag before answering in a puff of smoke. “We’ve been over this.” He walked into the safe house.

They had talked, several times. Rey wanted Iris out but he didn’t have much power and knowledge. Jonah had the gun and a hundred reasons not to. There was no way to kill all 4 because everyone was armed. The community would riot. There was no where safe to go. A failed attempted would end Iris’s life. All these may be true, Jonah did have 4 decades of guard experience… but really, Rey thought he was just a coward, and maybe he cared for Pope and/or Francisco more than he’d like to admit. He’d been with those two since infancy, helped raise them, been a father figure most of their lives… it was understandable.

When he walked into the house, it was to crying but this time, relieved. He must have told her Will would be okay. You had your arms wrapped around his neck and he held you close to him, rubbing your back.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey, everyone’s gonna be just fine.”

Ben was changing Will’s bandages when you walked in and it made you nauseous to see the blood. Jonah said the bullet went straight through, that he’d be okay he just needed to rest, but the sight was disturbing.

Will groans. “Baby, don’t want you seeing me like this.”

Benny flicks his brothers arm. “Let her be, she was worried about you.”

The older Miller grumbled, but allowed you to kneel his side. He thumbed away a tear, “Don’t cry for me, beautiful girl.”

“What happened?” You sniffle, looking between Benny and Will.

“A girl from the dorms, she took the gun off a guard and tried to shoot-”

Ben interrupted. “You, Madonna.” He looked to his brother. “Melody, your old roommate, she tried to shoot you out of jealousy, she wanted to be with me. Will pushed you aside, took the bullet.”

You blink at that. Melondy wanted to shoot you? She wanted you dead? And Will. was he even standing by you? “But… I don’t remember being pushed.”

“Oh sweet girl…” Will cood. “Do you not remember? Poor thing, it was probably so traumatic-”

“No, I remember-”

“Your brain probably blocked a lot of it out, repressed it to protect you.”

Yeah, yeah that made sense. Memory was fragile. Will winced and Ben finished cleaning him and you took his hand as a new packing kit was applied. “Thank you for saving me…” You kiss his hand, feeling the rough knuckles warm skin. “For saving our baby…”

You fell asleep beside him that night, laying on his chest. He was warm, firm, inviting and protective. Nothing mattered more than the fact your husbands and your baby were safe.

Melody was dead. After the first shot missed, she approached where the four men had gathered intent on finding you, but Ben said Pope shot her square in the forehead, that he protected you while Jonah and Reyansh took you to safety. Ben said he had stood in front of his brothers and you, fearless, brave and bold. Pope loved his people, but he loved you most of all.

When you awoke, it was lae evening and although you wanted to go back to sleep, after some tossing and turning you realized you could. Not wanting to wake Will, you check his pulse and breathing, both strong and head out of the room to see if anyone is up. You know they dont like you wandering around the mansion without protection but you weren’t a child.

After Jonah and Rey had taken you back home, you were desperate to see William, but Pope demanded your presence with Francisco, both holding you tightly and checking you over again and again, tell you how precious you were, how loved. Pope knelt in front of you, hands on your belly, kissing it. You were thankful to have such loving and protective husbands. Despite the horrors of today, you felt blessed beyond measure

You came to the kitchen first seeing a light on. Sometimes Benny liked late night snacks. Instead, you see Iris and Reyansh slow dancing in the kitchen. Iris was actually smiling. No doubt Rey was fearful of his own women’s safety being forced in the cabin with you for so long after a riot broke out right outside where she was. Silent, you step away from the cute lovers and allow them their time. Rey helped save your life today, you needed to thank him, and thank Iris for all she did for your family, you were lucky to have them both.

You try to see if Pope is awake next. When you approach his room, the grunting sounds make you stop, peaking through the slightly cracked door. Pope was on top of Francisco, fucking into his ass with his legs bent up into a press. It was a position he used on you many a time. Francisco was a puddle beneath him, his curls stuck to the sweat on his head. He looked incredible. The way Pope kissed him so deep… You couldn’t help feeling warm inside. How lucky you were that your husbands loved each other so much.

Ben was found in the gym. For a moment, you merely watch him. Shirtless in his red shorts and throwing punches at a punching bag. He probably had so much energy in him after everything today, watching his brother bleeding in his arms. She knew they didn’t always get along, Ben holding anger for Will so often and over what, you couldn’t yet discern. Maybe this tragedy would bring them back together. You admire his body, carved out and chiseled in perfect form.

You loved the bodies of all your husbands, in each and every different.

Will was largess; tall, muscular, wide everywhere. Everywhere. His body consumed you just as yours consumed him; he was like a shield, metaphorically and now literally.

Santiago was softer. A small belly that was only noticeable when he was bent over, plush though and a moon shaped ass. He was all curves, from his nose down to his calved you had massaged so ardently.

If Pope was soft, Francisco was a pillow. Heavy weight surrounded him, the broad expanse of his shoulders to the fat at his waist and you just wanted to bury your face into it, you want to bite, nibble, and worship the pudge that spilled over his pants.

Ben was lean, the tallest of them and slim hips under rippling muscles. Golden God, beholden before you and it was as if his glory radiated off him. Despite the strength he was light on his feat. He could have been a boxer in another life.

“How are you feeling?” His deep voice breaks the tranfiction of the way his body moved, stilling the punching bag.

“I’m good, just woke from a nap with Will.”

Still looking away, Ben nodded. His mood matched the storm clouds out the window. After wiping his face, Benny chugged water and then finally made his way over to you in long, quick strides. His eyes flashed with the lightning outside.

Pope fucked Frankie with a fury he couldn’t recall in years. Frankie had defined him, ignoring his orders to leave but no, he wanted to stay with Ben.

“You don’t think I wanted Ben and Will safe too?” He growled in his lovers ear.

“I know!”

“You’re more important!”

He almost lost Will, Ben, the savior, and most importantly Frankie today. The girl would pay, fuck she’d pay. He couldn’t do anything Madonna might see, she thinks she’s dead already… no, a gunshot was to quick for someone trying to harm his family, but he’d make her suffer.

His anger toward Francisco wouldn't be helped when today, when he went to make love to Frankie, he found him in Ben's arms, cumming on his hand.

Ben had you pinned against the wall, fucking into you with your legs hitched around his narrow hips. The wind outside picked up speed, displaying his anger, his frustration, his love and his lust. You let him take you, fucking into your pregnant womb with his face tucked in your neck. You felt as if you were floating, like you were the center of the world right now. The sun God orbited you. Someone had tried to take you from him, a women he used to claim as his own but she had been cast aside for a reason. In her jealousy, she though she could regain her place at his side but that was foolish. Ben would never have loved her the way he loved you, the way he loved his husbands. Will, Francisco and Pope could never love her.

She was not the Madonna.

She could never carry the savior.

She could only ever have a bastard.

“Gonna fill you up, Frank.” Pope grunted, breath hot against Francisco's cheek, mouth to mouth, lips to lips. “Gonna fill up this tight little hole of yours until you’re pregnant with my baby, you got that?”

Frank’s eyes went wide. “Santi, wha-” But he stopped when Santiago slapped him. This shocked Frankie, Santi didn’t slap him, he didn’t hurt him like that…

“Take it!” Santiago screams, tears of anger blurring his eyes. He chose Ben over him. He’d rather stay in danger with Ben than safety with him. “Your mine, under stand?!” When Frankie didn’t answer right away, Pope gripped his jaw and felt a warm tear fall down his cheek. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

Long fingers gripping your asscheeks, digging into the sensitive skin.

Firm abs rubbing against your body.

Hips stimulating your clit.

A finger fucking into your asshole.

Everything was better than your wildest dreams. No incubus, a child on the way, friends and family. This was a life your father tried to take from you, but you were like gold that’s tested in fire.

Ben came inside when the thunder cracked, lightning still flashing and illuminating him with light. He muttered Francisco’s name.

“YES!” Francisco shouted in pain, face grimacing. “I’m yours! I’m yours Santi, fill me up! Make me-” He swallowed, tears forming at his long lashes. He gritted his teeth. “Make me p-pregnant!” Francisco was saying anything that'd make Santi stuff, just to make him cum and end this. He just wanted it over. All of it. He didn't understand why he wasn't allow to be happy, to feel safe, to have peace. Instead he had to submit to Santi's whims just like Beatriz.

Santiago tucked his face into his lovedrsneck, biting him as he came inside. Whimpering, tears streaming wildly down his face, Santiago bit into Frankie’s tender flesh: neck, then shoulder, till finally he just continuously bit into the skin on his large arm, drawing the blood and bruising the skin. It hurt like hell, Frankie's head thrashing back and forth on the pillow trying to take the pain and bare it. Santiago's tears mixed with blood as he finished cumming, thrusts slowing into a lul.

Francisco didn’t know where his body ended and Santi’s began.

He wanted Ben, to be held and protected by him. To be touched gently, with love. To be not possessed but show off so that he knew Ben was proud of him, proud of what they had, not what the fuck Santigo was doing to him. He wanted Madonna with her sweet kisses and open adoration. He wanted Will with his healing nature, tender hands on his arching, bleeding arm. He wanted anything but Santi’s touch right now.

Santiago curled behind Francisco. His hand rested on Frankie’s stomach.

***********

This disturbed me writing the end asdfghjkl

Madonna crying Reminds me of tww bonus chapter where little one thinks joel is dead and is just ugly sobbing

Madonna has... a lot to process today, and absolutly no therapy and no one she can be honest with about what she's witnessing.

I hope you all enjoyed... or .... something....???

Thoughts on Santis episode, Benny having a fit because he wanted Frankie but had to take madonna, will being shot, madonna is pregant, rey's thoughts!!!!! Jonah protecting madonna, etc.

UUUHHHHH poll?

love you all dearly <3 I hope to get at least one more tf fic for the triple frontier anniverary evnt before the end, and maybe something else like a TWW bonus chapter i've been wanting, but no gurantees. next week is spring break and i have 10k worth of commissions to write so il be busy! I wanna get the last chapter of my handmaids tale au out though, end that baby <3

also if you havn't yet, consider following me on my main @romanarose because im like 20 followers away from 2k and once i do, ill be open to writing stuff for a celebration!

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

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If I forgot someone or you'd like to be added/removed LMK!

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defectivevillain · 1 year

Text

bound by blood

paring: Raphael Santiago/Reader

synopsis: As you’re recovering from top surgery, you realize you’re bored out of your mind. You decide to visit Raphael and an interesting conversation ensues.

The reader’s gender identity is unspecified, but they do undergo top surgery. [This is completely and unabashedly self-indulgent.]

ao3 version

warnings: blood, mentions of surgery

Raphael Santiago is far from the most friendly person you’ve ever met, but you’ve never considered him to be rude. He’s always gruff and blunt, but he never acts above anyone else and he makes an effort—albeit a miniscule one—to make conversation with you. The more you get to know him, the more you realize that he’s a good guy. So when you walk into the Hotel Dumort one day to visit Raphael, you certainly aren’t expecting him to react with profound disgust.

“What?” You ask self consciously, not sure what’s prompting him to display such a reaction. Raphael isn’t super expressive in the first place, so the thought of him reacting so viscerally is throwing you for a loop.

“You reek,” Raphael says through gritted teeth. His hands grip the counter with frightening strength and his head is tilted down to avoid your gaze. You blink at him a few times, trying to process his comment. When you finally do, it’s hard not to be offended. You manage to make your voice sound calm.

“Sorry, I’m not allowed to shower yet; that’s probably why,” you grimace, itching at the binder on your chest. It’s far from comfortable, but thankfully, the pain has been decreasing with time as you expected it would. You’re counting down the days until you return to the doctor and get the binder and bandages removed.

“No,” Raphael says with a shake of his head. It sounds as if it’s hard for him to speak. You give him a moment to evidently regain his composure. “It’s… blood.”

“Oh, yeah,” you remark casually. Raphael gives you an absolutely murderous glare at that. “What?” You ask. “I just had surgery, so… it’s kind of unavoidable.”

“It’s so strong,” Raphael says, placing a hand over his nose.

“Probably because of these,” you explain, bringing the drains out of the confines of your pockets. Raphael’s eyes go comically wide and you watch in confusion as he slaps a hand over his mouth and turns his head to the side.

“Why would you show me?!” Raphael hisses, his voice sounding slightly warbled from behind his palm.

“Because you asked?” You respond with furrowed brows. Raphael is steadily avoiding eye contact. There’s a bead of sweat trickling down his temple and he looks to be in pain. “What, do you want the blood?”

“...No.” He’s never sounded less convincing. You huff in amusement.

“You can have it,” you offer. Truthfully, the blood serves no purpose anymore. Once it’s expelled from your body, you’re supposed to dispose of it. However, you suppose you shouldn’t let it go to waste—not when your vampire companion so rarely gets to drink human blood. You know Raphael well enough to know that he’d never harm a human and drink their blood, so he’s likely been drinking rodent or animal blood for as long as he’s been a vampire. Perhaps human blood will increase his strength. You’re not entirely sure—you’re no expert on blood or vampirism.

“Are you sure?” Raphael mutteres, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still steadily avoiding eye contact, as if willing you to drop the conversation and forget the interaction. Unfortunately for him, you’re too stubborn to let it go.

“It’s of no use to me, now,” you shrug, looking at him expectantly. Despite the clear resistance he’s showing, Raphael’s eyes are blown wide and his pupils are dilated in evident hunger. You can’t imagine how much strength he must have to resist the blood that is right in front of him.

Raphael doesn’t speak for a few moments. You sigh, before taking a few steps towards the bathroom. You then realize that you don’t hear any footsteps and, when you turn back around, Raphael is frozen in the same position as before. “What?” You ask, gesturing impatiently for him to follow. “Come on; don’t back out now.”

“Right.” Raphael responds with frightening sincerity. He follows you at a rather unusual distance. You’re grateful that Raphael seems to be controlling his urges for your benefit, but you can only hope that he isn’t causing himself any physical pain. Although, when you think about it, Raphael is easily one of the most composed and practiced vampires you know. There’s no way he would lose control in such a manner, you reassure yourself internally.

Once you make it to the bathroom, you pull the first drain out of your pocket. Raphael watches from his position leaning against the doorway. There’s a complex expression on his face. You tear your gaze away from him and carefully line up the drain with the measuring instrument you were given, before squeezing and allowing the blood to fall into the capsule. Thankfully, the process is painless. When you’re finished, you squint at the tiny numbers on the side of the container—only for Raphael to take it from your hand and drink all the blood in one fell swoop.

“...I didn’t get to measure it,” you remark regretfully.

“Sorry.” The vampire grimaces. His fangs glimmer in the dim lighting of the bathroom. He has the grace to look mildly embarrassed and remorseful. You resist a well-intentioned laugh at the genuine concern and regret on his face.

“It’s fine; just… let me measure this one, okay?” Raphael nods. You feel a bit nervous when you notice his gaze burning into the side of your face, but you manage to replicate the process with the drain on your other side. This time, you get a measurement of the amount of blood. Raphael is clenching his fists so hard that it looks as if he could break a knuckle. You push the capsule towards him on the counter and he grabs it with unfathomable speed, before drinking it without hesitation. He doesn’t shotgun it in the same reckless manner he did before; rather, Raphael pauses and turns to look at you for a fleeting moment.

“This feels… intimate,” Raphael remarks vaguely. You freeze and stare at him, wondering if you misheard him. He’s avoiding eye contact with you again, which convinces you that you heard his statement correctly.

“Do you want it to be intimate?” You hum, surprised by how confident and unbothered you sound. Surely, your rapid heartbeat will betray your confident facade—your heart is jackhammering in your chest right now. Raphael finishes draining the blood before wiping a hand over his lips and leveling you with an incredulous gaze. You stare back at him without hesitation. The vampire seems to need a moment to process the implications of what you just said.

“Yes,” Raphael finally answers. You stare at him in surprise. He’s staring at some unknown point in the mirror. When you try to make eye contact with him, the vampire is quick to avert his gaze. “But… I’m not interested in sex.” Silence settles in the air. For a long moment, there is nothing but a strange tension. It takes you several moments to realize that Raphael is waiting for a response from you. You blink at him a few times.

“Okay,” you eventually say, wondering why the vampire looks so high-strung and defensive right now. Had he really expected you to react poorly? Perhaps he’s had bad experiences in the past. The thought makes your stomach turn.

“That’s it?” He asks, a hint of wariness in his voice.

“I don’t plan on forcing you to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” you say. It seems as if there’s a physical relief that Raphael experiences after that admission. His shoulders relax and the grimace on his face softens. He had been clenching his fists at his sides, and he moves to loosen them. For a long moment, there is nothing but silence. You busy yourself with washing your hands and valiantly pretend not to notice Raphael staring at you the entire time. It isn’t until you move to leave the bathroom that he seems to snap out of his trance. The vampire places a hand on your shoulder.

“Next time,” Raphael breaks off, as if the effort of speaking is laborious. His hand slips from your shoulder and falls back to his side. Raphael looks uncharacteristically restless. “I can help you empty them.”

“The drains?” You ask for clarification. The vampire nods. “Okay. You have to give me time to make measurements, though.”

Raphael rolls his eyes, letting you know exactly what he thinks of that idea.

#defectivevillain #trans reader #transmasc reader #nonbinary reader #Raphael x reader #Raphael santiago x reader #Raphael santiago #sigh #he #him #he's everything to me

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stormyoceans · 4 months

Note

Sleepover Saturday! 😊 Where have you traveled, and where would you like to travel to?

i gotta be honest, i actually haven't travelled that much outside of italy and most of these trips date way back to my high school years ;;;;;;;;;

it's not that i don't like traveling, i just didn't really had the chance to do it for a lot of different reasons, but hopefully i'll be able to do it more often in the future, especially because there are so many places i would love to see!!!!!!

so to answer your question!!!!!!

PLACES I'VE SEEN

a few french cities (nizza, cannes, lyon, strasbourg). my ex girlfriend spoke french really well and sometimes we would just. travel to one of those cities (which are pretty close to italy) for the weekend and sleep in her car.

the netherlands. my favorite high school trip, those were awful years but i have such fond memories of the places we saw here!!!!! we visited amsterdam, rotterdam, and maastricht, climbed to the top of the domtoren's cathedral in utrecht, saw the windmills of kinderdijk and the keukenhof botanical garden, and even got to take a walk on one of the beaches!!!!!!!

barcelona. another high school trip but unfortunately i don't have as many memories of this one, which is why i would love to go back to see it!!!!!

bucharest. first time i ever travelled alone and it was to meet an online friend. let's just not talk about it ;;;;;;;;

PLACES I WOULD LIKE TO TRAVEL TO

paris. just because my mom has always wanted to see it and i would love to take her there one day.

prague. everyone who went there loved the city, so im really curious about it.

spain. just would love to do a proper tour of the entire country, seeing barcelona again but also madrid, valencia, granada, ronda, seville, santiago de compostela.......

iceland. my brother went there and i just find it fascinating!!!!!!!

japan. another country i would love to do an entire tour of to learn more about its culture first hand!!!!!!!

thailand. same as above!!!!!!!

usa. im not really interested in its big cities, but i would love to do at least one of those cross country routes, i think scenery wise it must be beautiful. also i would take a detour to iowa to meet @clandestinegardenias!!!!!!!!!

IM DEFINITELY FORGETTING SOME PLACES BUT THIS IS ALREADY WAY TOO LONG SO IM SHUTTING UP

#sorry for all the unnecessary commentary idk why i can't simply write a quick answer ;;;;;;;;#but thank you so much for asking karen!!!!!!#sending you a big hug and wishing you a wonderful day!!!!!! 💜#ask games #karen 🧡#m: ask

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damnmeatyhands · 1 year

Text

a much needed sabbatical

irving pov, canon-typical violence, hint of pre-tyrving

a quick drabble i couldnt get out of my head! takes place right after irving starts driving away on his sabbatical. may write more of this, please let me know what you think! :D

Even dressed back up to the nines, Irving’s blood was still rushing hot under his skin, burning him up inside his jacket. The memory of the act kept swirling through his mind: the handle of the ax gripped tightly, the way it had felt to follow through on the familiar motion, familiar until the dull squishing sound had resounded in his ears. The caving in of a chest, rather than a brittle log splitting.

He knew he was a twisted son-of-a-bitch, but he was still surprised how there was no growing horror, no deep guilt, just an ever growing sense of satisfaction and something primal itching to go back to the corpse and whack into it again.

His hands slid up and down the steering wheel, the stimulation of the smooth pleather surface not enough, not nearly enough to settle him back down. Center himself.

Irving knew where he was driving. What a strange compulsion. But as the ax had landed those last few strokes, he’d known where he would go. First stop on his sabbatical. He knew he would get in trouble if anyone noticed, if Whiterose decided to care. Given the ever-present danger of visiting someone caught in the eye of the media, it was a risk he wouldn’t usually take.

He flicked another speck of dried blood off his thumb. He could just barely glimpse the small blood splatter at the top right corner of his glasses. He left it alone. He liked looking at it.

He drove in complete silence, the sound of the ax in Santiago’s body echoing in his ears, overpowering the ambient noise of the road, and his blood ran hot, hot, hot. Irving rolled the car to a stop in front of Tyrell Wellick’s house.

#mr robot #irving #tyrving #irving x tyrell #tyrell wellick #irving mr robot

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prvtocol · 9 months

Text

@badtrigger :🎄 My muse introduces your muse to one of their holiday traditions // any for bri, any verse | Sharing the Holiday Season Prompts ᠂ ⚘ ˚

“Just pull the other side, same time as me,” Brianne explains to her skeptical companion, a hopeful smile in tow. One hand grasps the wrapper of the festively decorated paper tube, while the other coaxes Santiago’s larger hand to the other end.

For December’s cash pick-up, the courier threw a few Christmas crackers in her bag, thinking it seasonally jolly to distribute to some of her Rook colleagues, and of course, to share a few with him. They will not be spending Christmas together, or any such holiday for that matter. A noted deficiency to any long-distance relationship, but especially to one that must remain hidden in his little shack on the southside beach of this islet. A place he somehow grew to not mind sharing with her on visits that never seem to last long enough. It doesn’t mean she’s going to neglect the holidays altogether, however.

At the pull (activating the tiny amount of gunpowder inside), the cracker gains its name. The "pop" makes Brianne's shoulders flinch with a grin. Meanwhile, Santiago’s heavy brow flexes further. After all, shots fired is an all too common sound for a seasoned pirate like himself.

“Oh, looks like you won.” More of the broken tube is in his hand and inside it, a junk plastic ring and wooden spinning top, a piece of paper with a terrible joke they must read out loud, and a little paper red crown — which, of course, she will make him wear at least for a brief minute. It’s tradition.

#badtrigger #⚘ ˚◞ answers ◞ 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓊𝓉𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝒸 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝓁𝓎.#⚘ ˚◞ verse˚ far cry 3 ◞ 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓈𝒻𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓈𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝒶𝓎𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈.#(( the image of santi wearing a paper crown is sending me ))

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slowroadtosantiago · 1 year

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Day 19 - Hornillos to Castrojeriz

(Posting delay of yesterday’s walk as there was rubbish signal and wifi at the albergue)

It was about a 20k day, 12 miles or so.

Each day when we set off I think ‘what on earth am I going to write about today? It’s not a long day, we eat, we walk’ and each day something different happens…so here’s today’s story.

After a reasonable night’s sleep we were rudely awoken by an alarm going off at 6, and people shuffling about and opening the door. Then the light went on, hrmph!

We had breakfast at the hostel then set off about 7:20 with full packs today. My blisters have now all healed so I walked without plasters, and Jane was walking for the first time without strapping her feet up too. Jane’s heel is also OK after rest.

There was a steady climb out of the valley onto the plateau at the top. It was a cooler morning but we still stripped of our jackets half way up. The land is very open with chalk white soil on the hillsides. The fields are full of barley or wheat and young poppies are just starting to appear on the verges and you can see that in a couple of weeks it will look gorgeous.

Across the plateau we started having a go at the Welsh national anthem. My Bethan is going to send through a line a day to learn so we should have it sorted by the time we finish!

We were caught up by an Irish couple who had heard the ‘singing’ and we chatted about our journeys. They were travelling light and doing it in stages so soon sped past us.

Scott also caught us up and we walked down into Hontanas together for our first proper coffee of the day. Hontanas is a nice place that just suddenly appears as it’s down in a dip. On the way out we passed an old 2CV, haven’t seen one of those for ages, and whereas you usually see a fountain cherub having a wee, today we saw a full sized version!

The path followed a nice valley and where it joined the road again we found a comfortable spot under a proper tree to have a rest and change into our sandals.

The road eventually led to an old ruined monastery at San Anton where there was a huge arch over the road and where some of the old buildings had been preserved as an albergue.

The last stretch on a long straight road brought us to Castrojeriz looking impressive in the distance with a castle on the hill and church down below.

Our hostel is clean and the beds not too rickety. It is also unusual as the evening meal is South Korean inspired.

We dumped our stuff then found a cafe for a beer and some lunch for me - I had been looking forward to a wedge of tortilla. We met up with the Texans in the same cafe though they are sleeping elsewhere tonight. We clocked that the church was closed so would visit it later.

Back at the hostel it was time for a shower and a chill. We then had a mammoth session sat in the garden planning out the rest of our trip. Nicole, the Australia, was planning on celebrating her birthday on the 15th of May in Herrerías so we’ve worked out how to get there for then. At the moment it looks like we may get to Santiago on the 24th May and fly out on the 28th, but things can change.

We decided that after all that hard work we deserved a glass of wine so started making our way to the local bar. The clouds behind were very ominous.

The church on the way was open so we thought to drop in there first. It’s a museum as well and the guardian very enthusiastically talked about some of the exhibits, in Spanish, so we nodded along enthusiastically too!

As we reached the entrance again the skies started to open up. We decided the better course of action was to get back to the hostel. As we were running back it started hail storming! A bit damp we got back and watched the streams of water running down the street.

After a while we were called to dinner. The Korean meal was delicious. There was rice on the bottom and different veg arranged on top along with ground beef. You then added a fried egg, soy sauce, miso soup and as much spicy red sauce you could manage and mixed it all together. We’ve got quite a few Koreans in the bunkhouse and they enjoyed it very much.

We’re now in our bunks listening to the thunder outside. The bad weather is due to move off tonight and we should have a dry day tomorrow, fingers crossed.

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surrealistnyc · 1 year

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More information about David Coulter's upcoming exhibit at the Fundación Eugenio Granell:

Next Thursday July 13 th at 19:00, The Eugenio Granell Foundation presents ”Calle Cervantes: The Art of Collage by David Coulter”, a project curated by Allan Graubard, open to the public until October 8 th .

“Here’s the story. When we visit Madrid, the pension that Kate and I usually stay in is on Calle Cervantes in the Barrio Letras. There is a laundromat at the top of the street, near the corner with Calle Leon. Next to the laundromat was a very discreet (but not that discreet) brothel. Who knows, it may still be there” (David Coulter, personal communication, 2022). A real place, an imaginary place, somewhere to live on and walk through, somewhere to dream about and transform, the quotidian infused by adventure at every turn. This place identified by name -- Spain’s finest author – comic and tragic, realist, fantasist and commentator on what was – speaks to David Coulter’s art precisely. It’s where David lives, too, and where his art roots from and flowers. Calle Cervantes is a place where commedia refines contemporary masks, and what is morphs into what can be, what desire seeks and the imagination grants. From the street up as if weightless, David Coulter explores our contemporary world in this, his theatre of imagery. His is a restless art. With a painter’s hand and a surgeon’s finesse, he works his collages –rich with stories we know so well, fed by issues we grapple with so much: from disease to our social, cultural and political conflicts, and all the laughter, loves, excuses, wit, struggles, power plays, hopes, joys and despairs that they and we conjure. Eclectically drawn to illustrations from trade publications – magazines, children’s books, movie posters, textbooks, you name it, whatever intrigues or compels him – David Coulter builds alternate worlds. Don’t be shy. The door is open. Enter. In this theatre, surprise, passion, critique, and humor await you … Allan Graubard Curator

Para máis Información: EDUARDO LÓPEZ VALIÑA. Conservador xefe FUNDACIÓN EUGENIO GRANELL. Pazo de Bendaña Praza do Toural s/n. 15705. Santiago de Compostela tel. (+34) 981 57 21 24 tel. (+34) 981 57 63 94 fax. (+34) 981 56 40 69 e-mail. [email protected] web. www.fundacion-granell.org

#David Coulter

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kteabug · 2 years

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it just wasn’t meant to be

Summary: “If it’s meant to be, we’ll end up back together” is what Iwaizumi told Oikawa when they broke up ten years ago and the one thing that kept Iwaizumi from falling apart. But will that statement hold true when Oikawa returns to Japan ten years later with exciting news?

Pairings: Oikawa x Iwaizumi (part tense) | Oikawa x OC

Word Count: 3289

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of breakups and alcohol.

AN: Santiago Pellegrini is an OC from my IwaOi omegaverse series (joor) - just minus the omegaverse traits lol

February 2022

Iwaizumi wakes up, letting out a deep sigh as his hand slides around his nightstand, trying to grab his phone. His eyes squint when the screen lights up telling him it’s only 3:27AM. It has been like this – waking up randomly throughout the night – since Oikawa called two weeks ago, telling him of his visit at the end of the month.

The excitement of seeing his childhood friend has him like a kid on the eve of their birthday: too eager to sleep, eat or anything other than count down the days. Sitting up he tries to rub the sleep from his eyes, part of him worried about the reunion while his mind drifts back ten years ago.

* * May 2012

“Long distance doesn’t sound so bad compared to this.” Oikawa tried to laugh, but the words got stuck in his throat.

They weren’t breaking up because someone cheated or they stopped loving each other. In fact, both were sure they loved each other more in that moment than when they first started dating in their last year of junior high.

“We agreed this was best since neither of us know what our schedules will look like.” Iwaizumi gave his partner a reassuring smile. It had actually just been Iwa’s idea, the brunette had wanted to make things work long distance, but Iwa was certain that would only lead to them breaking up.

“But maybe we were wrong.” Watery hickory eyes look over at Iwa, but he’s met with the side of his head.

“I don’t.” Iwaizumi kneeled in front of Oikawa, reaching a hand up to gently wipe away a tear, “it’s hard but if we wait and break-up because of being too busy, it’ll hurt worse. Better to end things before we grow to hate each other.”

Logically, Oikawa knew it made sense, but emotionally he’s not so sure. “I could never hate you, Iwa-chan.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to never have to find out?”

* * The hot water relieves some tension that’s built itself in his shoulders. Letting out a deep breath, he wipes his hand across the steam fogged shower door, mind wandering.

It’s technically been less than a year since they last saw each other, but that time it was practically by chance. Running into each other outside the locker rooms, spending most of the 30 minutes dancing around awkward small talk. Despite their semi-constant communication via texts and calls, it hadn’t changed the fact that not only had it been nine years since they last saw each other, but since they had broken up too. The sting of a first love ending has a tendency to linger and those two were no exception.

He cuts the water off, taking a moment before sliding the shower open and stepping out. The cold air further wakes him up as he wraps a towel around his waist, a second towel is draped around the back on his neck. The water drops he leaves as he walks down the hallway would have his mother in a fit but he just shrugs it off, too worried about tonight to care about the flooring of his apartment.

Iwaizumi stares in his closet a bit too long for someone who typically opts to wear basketball shorts and a tee whenever he meets up with his friends. But he has plans for tonight, plans that warrant something more than gym attire so he places a pair of khakis he got for his last job interview and a dark navy v-neck shirt on his bed.

Choosing not to risk wrinkling his clothes for later, he walks back into the living room area wearing sweats he bought while studying in California and some random tank-top he can’t remember buying. There’s an audible huff when he flops down on the couch, leaning forwards to open his laptop that’s sitting on the coffee table.

Streaming Service A: Check out these new titles!

Food Delivery App: Order Confirmation #924508

Birtwistle University: Job Offer Reminder!

Social Media X: Your account has been logged into.

Streaming Service B: Catch up on these titles before the new seas…

Birtwistle University: Iwaizumi - we’re still interested in your resu…

XYZ Gym: Are you using the right pre-workout?

It never ceases to amaze Iwaizumi how many emails he gets even when he checks his account regularly, though most were ones he could simply ignore. He pinches the bridge of his nose, already feeling the stress of everything getting to him; opting to ignore the emails directly related to his future. He’ll have time after tonight to deal with it, right now his focus was making sure everything went well when the four of them got together.

* * October 2015

Iwaizumi was sitting in his Kinesiology lecture, eyes focused on the powerpoint, but mind elsewhere. Three years of scheduling his own courses, yet here he was in an important class after lunch. He scrunched his brows, pulling his phone out of his pocket, confused at who would be calling during his class. He bumped his knee on the table trying to get up quietly, getting an unamused look from the professor and a few peers. He mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ before walking out into the hallway, answering the call.

“Hello?”

“‘Wa-cha!” The rest of the words were slurred, Iwa had a hard time understanding the tipsy dialogue.

“Oikawa? It’s like what,” he looked at his watch, confusion covering his face, “2AM over there.”

There was some sniffling on the other end, somehow overpowering the loud background noise from Oikawa’s end. The words sounded more like a whine than a serious question, “can we share a taiyaki?”

Iwa chuckled, remembering all the times they’d do just that as a way to make up after a fight. When he answered ‘of course’, there was an amused hum from the brunette. Abandoning his lecture, he walked outside to sit on a bench, his bag sitting between his feet, assuming Oikawa had done the same since the background noise on his end ceased.

It was awkward at first, neither really knew what to say, three years is a long time to go without talking to each other. Especially when before that, the two were inseparable, barely going 12 hours without interacting with another. There was also the fact they weren’t just friends that lost contact, but exes as well, making the tension encasing them a bit heavier. Though eventually it goes from silence to the two of them fumbling over their words before resting into easy conversation.

If the two hadn’t been friends for as long as they were, the words might have seemed like an overstep, but they don’t hold any malice, instead sounded like a friend checking in. At least that’s how Oikawa hoped they came across once they slipped between his lips: “Are you seeing anyone?”

“No. I’m not.” The lie fell effortlessly off his tongue. The truth was that Iwaizumi had been seeing someone for a handful of months, but things didn’t match up to when he was with Oikawa. In fact, in the few times he had dated someone since their break-up, no one made him feel anything close to what he felt with the brunette.

“I find that hard to believe.” He teased, though he meant every word. Maybe he was biased, but Oikawa felt, and still felt, that Iwaizumi was perfect in every way and anyone would be lucky to be with him.

Iwaizumi laughed, “well, what about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh yeah, like a whole volleyball team of guys.” Oikawa chuckled.

“Nice to know you’re still a smartass.” Iwaizumi noticed that Oikawa sounded a lot happier than he had the last time they talked. It had been six months after their break-up and the last thing he could remember Oikawa saying was that he was a lot more homesick than he thought he’d be and even considered going home. Clearly whatever happened since then had changed that.

“Always.” There was a slight smile in Oikawa’s voice, “but no, I’m not seeing anyone.”

Iwaizumi felt his heart flutter, a warm giddy feeling filled his chest. He hadn’t felt something like that since the first time he caught Oikawa staring at him back in middle school. Or maybe it had been way back when they were kids and a flustered Oikawa asked him to play volleyball randomly at the park.

The two sat and caught up about a few topics, barely even touching the surface of half of what they spoke on. Most of the conversation was about their families and the last thing they talked about three years ago that was outdated now. It wasn’t until he saw his classmates coming out of the building that Iwa realized how long he had been out there.

Something felt right as he walked across campus to his dorm, listening to Oikawa call his name if he was silent for too long before he mentioned details about tomorrow’s game - the one Iwa had already planned to watch.

If it’s meant to be, we’ll end up back together, he smiled, recalling the words he told Oikawa back in high school, realizing just how true they were.

* * Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

“Yes?”

“Is that really how you answer the phone when your best friend calls?”

“It’s how I answer the phone when you call.”

“Anyways,” Makki scoffs, Iwaizumi could tell the pink-haired man was rolling his eyes. “Are you still good for tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

There’s a pause on the other end, “it’s just…well you two haven’t seen each other in so long. It might be hard or awkward or something.”

Iwaizumi reminds his former teammate that he not only saw, but did speak to Oikawa back during the Olympics, though he doesn’t mention just how brief their interaction had been. The brunette hasn’t bothered to think of things going anything but smoothly tonight because they’re Iwa and Oikawa after all. Where one was the other would shortly follow and sure, things were a bit different now, Iwaizumi knows they’ll always fall back into rhythm.

* * July 2021 - Olympics

Iwaizumi ran his fingers through his hair, rolling his shoulders a few times as he walked towards the locker rooms. Losing the Olympics was bittersweet. He had watched the Japan team train harder than most, watched them fight on the court, but them losing meant getting to see a bright smile on Oikawa’s face and that almost made it worth it.

He had hoped that he’d get a chance to see Oikawa this time around, more than just across the court, since he didn’t get the chance when the brunette was in Japan a little over two years ago. Back then Oikawa had mentioned coming back to their hometown for a few days which had excited Iwaizumi. However, his trip landed right in the middle of a conference Iwa had been planning to attend and despite his attempts to skip it, Oikawa told him not to worry and that he’d rather Iwaizumi keep his plans. It felt nice knowing that even after all that time, Oikawa still cared about him and looked out for him, though he never did find out why exactly the brunette made such a randomly scheduled trip.

“Oh, sorry.” A rushed voice said, having run into Iwa’s shoulder.

“It’s oka–Oikawa?”

The brunette’s head snapped up, an unreadable expression on his face. “Iwa…hey!”

It was awkward. Phone calls don’t make up for lack of face-to-face communication nor change the fact they’d spent years on opposite ends of the world. But seeing Oikawa caused something in Iwaizumi to relax, taking in how beautiful Oikawa still was even with shorter hair. They stumbled over each other, words awkwardly overlapped before they found some sort of rhythm.

For the short time they had together, things felt similar to when they were back in high school, back before things got all muddied and tangled together. Back before they made promises of forever before they knew just how heavy those promises were. Oikawa laughed and it was like music to Iwa, similar to an old familiar tune that you remember, but can never fully place.

The athletic trainer noticed that even with the span of years changing them, the brunette still has some of the same nervous habits he had as kids. He still anxiously twirled the ends of his hair between his fingers and bit the inside of his cheek, both which Iwaizumi found endearing. He wanted to reach out, put a comforting hand on his shoulder or even pull him into an embrace because he hated the unreadable expression on Oikawa’s face.

“There you are!” A husky voice called out from behind Iwaizumi, he turned to see one of Oikawa’s teammates. “Mateo’s whining that he’s about to die if he doesn’t get food.”

“Ever the dramatic one.” Oikawa looked back at Iwaizumi, “this is my libero, Santiago Pellegrini and this is my childhood friend/the athletic trainer for the Japan National Team, Iwaizumi Hajime.”

The two men exchanged pleasantries, both trying to subtly size the other up before Oikawa intervened.

“It was nice seeing you. C’mon Santi, before Mateo tries to snack on Pablo again.”

“It was nice meeting you, Iwaizumi.” Santiago gave him a pleasant smile, nodding his head at the athletic trainer.

“Likewise.” He watched as the libero guided Oikawa away, seeing two of their other teammates waving for them to hurry along.

A lump formed in his throat watching the four of them interact, it reminded him of how he, Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki were back in high school. He thought back to their post-game trips to the nearby ramen shop and how Makki and Oikawa always tried to out eat each other which just resulted in both getting a stomach ache. It was strange seeing Oikawa act in such similar ways with other people because so much of their lives had been intertwined for as long as Iwaizumi could remember, that it felt wrong to have parts that didn’t overlap.

He shook his head, trying to erase such somber thoughts when he heard someone call out to him. Iwaizumi turned around to see Oikawa rushing back to where the former ace stood, almost tripping over his own feet.

Oikawa threw his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, shocking the both of them at his actions, but neither dared to say anything. The embrace lasted long enough to stir up all those emotions Iwaizumi tried to keep at bay, but too short for it to feel like other than a hug between friends.

“It really was nice to see you, Iwa-chan.”

And just as quickly as he ran into Iwaizumi, Oikawa was gone again, having dashed back down the hall. Iwa stood there, unsure if that had actually happened or was just some figment of his imagination, but those ten words played repeatedly in his head and he couldn’t help but smirk: if it’s meant to be, we’ll end up back together.

* * Iwa wouldn’t tell Makki, but Iwaizumi is a bit nervous as he walks into the restaurant they all decided to meet at. He runs his hands down the sides of his thighs, his anxiety has the palms of his hands sweating. He lets out a deep breath just as he finds the table his friends wave him over to, telling him that Oikawa should be there any minute.

“Why do you think he’s in town?” Makki asks, sipping on the beer he ordered, “I know he said he had something to tell us, but what could be so big he flew home to say it?”

“Maybe he’s transferring to a Japanese team.” Mattsun suggests, but Iwaizumi knows that’s not it; he may or may not have already asked around.

“Could be that he’s retiring.”

“He just played in and won gold at the Olympics, I doubt that.” Iwaizumi quickly dismisses his friend’s statement. There is no way Oikawa is finished with volleyball just yet. Sure, he may not know the setter like he did years ago, but he saw the passion and determination in his eyes and the way he played against Japan, no way he was ready to give that up.

“We can ask him.” Mattsun points towards ahead and Iwaizumi turns to look.

The brunette looks breathtaking in skinny khaki pants and a black turtleneck, the sparkle that filled his eyes when he finally saw Makki waving him over and the little pep in each step as he made a beeline to his friends. It’s all so familiar, so Oikawa.

Iwaizumi takes another deep breath, running back over his plan for tonight. He’ll wait until Oikawa makes his announcement, let them talk about whatever it is before he asks the brunette if they can talk outside. Regardless of what Oikawa tells them, whether it’s that he’s coming back home or moving to yet another country, Iwaizumi will promise to follow him there this time. He now knows that letting Oikawa go to Argentina alone was one of his biggest mistakes, second to thinking that they needed to break-up ever. And he’s prepared to tell all of this to Oikawa because he needs him to know he can fulfill all the promises he made when they were younger and any that they’ll make in the future.

“So? What’s so big you had to come tell us in person?” Makki asks and the three notice Oikawa looking down as pink dusts his cheeks.

“Oh, well,” he smiles a sincere smile before looking over his shoulder at the man Iwaizumi failed to see until now. “This is Santiago, my fiance.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t hear anything after that. The blood rushing in his ears makes it hard to hear the congratulatory statements from Makki and Mattsun. Fiance? Had he heard that right? That doesn’t make sense because everything had lined up for them to be together again, didn’t it?

Oikawa calling him drunk to rekindle their friendship and still being single, those were signs, right? Signs that they were meant to be together again. Signs that they were on track to finding each other again, weren’t they? It feels like cold water is dumped on his shoulders as he listens to Oikawa excitedly map out the timeline of his current relationship.

He hears how they first started dating five years ago after Santiago eventually wore him down by asking him out on a date every day after practice for six months. How the seemingly random trip to Japan Oikawa made in 2019 wasn’t so random, it was him introducing Santi to his family, noting that his mother was devastated when the two broke up later that year. Iwaizumi listens to how he missed a chance at the Olympics since Oikawa had been single there, that he and Santiago had finally been able to go back to being friends by then before making up about a year ago.

Then Iwaizumi watches Oikawa show off the engagement ring he’d been keeping covered for a big reveal and how his face lights up telling the three how Santiago proposed on New Year’s Eve just several weeks ago. Iwaizumi sees a happiness on the brunette’s face that he’s never seen before, watches as he effortlessly fits against Santiago and he realizes that not everything that falls apart can easily be glued back together when you’re ready.

Iwa excuses himself, slipping outside as he scrolls through his voicemails for a specific number while heading outside. He looks back one final time at Oikawa, accepting that the setter has moved on and that it’s his turn to do the same.

“Hello, is this Mr. Gordon? Yes, this is Iwaizumi and I was calling back to accept the position at Birtwistle University.”

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

m.list | joor m.list

#haikyuu #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #iwaoi #oikawa x iwaizumi #oikawa x oc #iwaoi angst

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bvdsigns · 1 year

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name : jordan mateo sanz nicknames : jm, jordy gender & pronouns : cis man, he / him age & date of birth : 44 ( september 28, 1978 ) hometown : los angeles, ca occupation : podcast host / television personality / actor sexuality : bisexual faceclaim : santiago cabrera career claims: dax shepard ( armchair expert ) & carson daly

trigger warnings: mentions of an eating disorder and substance abuse.

BIOGRAPHY

jordan started his career in hollywood acting in small-time roles or as a background extra for tv shows from childhood throughout his early adolescence. his father was a gaffer and his mother a set designer, so having ties to the industry through his parents was the leg up that helped jordan secure his first auditions.

his first major tv appearance was on a star search-esque program on mtv featuring talented teens from all over the country. though he didn't get the top prize, jordan's charisma and quick wit had him becoming a fan favorite. the network producers were well aware of his popularity among viewers and just a year after this stint, he was signed on to host total request live, continuing to do so well into his late twenties.

for the better part of at least two decades, the name 'jm sanz' was almost synonymous to pop culture. it was just so easy to associate his name to all these celebrities, even when he moved on to hosting other programs (most notably the voice on nbc) and even tried to make his own name in his feature film debut for a supporting role in an indie film that has become something of an unexpected cult hit as it made the festival circuits.

though he wasn't a backstreet boy nor was he mmmbop-ing his way up the charts, he was not spared from the scrutinizing eye of his audience, either, forcing him into a difficult relationship with food and the way he looked after his body.

what alarmed not only his fans but also anyone who even remotely browsed the tabloids was how often his appearance changed in public, how he would gain weight and lose it just as quickly. this how he would have to be relieved by a guest host every now and then due to rumored 'hospital visits' until he was permanently replaced aroused suspicion from spectators about the state of jordan's mental health.

then there were the rumors that he'd lost his apartment, was allegedly homeless somewhere in LA, was no longer on speaking terms with his family. he'd just fallen off the grid after that.

the years he'd been flying under the radar are all muddled in his head. there was a lot of pain involved. a lot of hurting people, hurting himself. despite the falling out with his family, he was lucky he found a steady stream of support from friends who managed to pull him out of the dark place he had been in. he checked himself into rehab for his substance abuse issues and started seeing a therapist as well as a nutritionist so he can start taking care of his body, something which he'd openly claimed to never having done before even when he looked 'fit'.

somewhere towards the end of 2020 and the beginning of 2021, photographs would surface of an older, somewhat healthier jordan walking his dog in santa monica or selfies of fans with him in coffee shops and broadway shows and comic cons. then he presented an award at the vma's in his first tv appearance in something like ten years followed by a guesting at an old friend and former co-host's talk show where he opened up about his past and before anyone knew it, jm sanz was making his comeback.

he started a podcast in 2021 where he would talk about film, music, tv, games, and generally all things pop culture with celebrity guests, a lot of whom were, like him, popular in the 90s and 2000s and had been forgotten about. he'd also recently started a health and wellness podcast called headstart which he hosts with a professional life coach and psychologist in what he describes as a 'full circle journey' and a way of paying it forward.

in 2023, he got engaged to his on-and-off partner of seven years. there isn't a set date for the wedding yet as he and his partner are still working out some stuff between them and jordan is secretly having second thoughts, what with his history of failed relationships but doesn't know how to voice out his apprehensions just yet.

TIMELINE

1998 - age 20, started hosting total request live.

2007 - age 29, total request live airs its final episode.

2008 - age 30, stars in his first feature film. gets married to his first wife.

2009 - age 31, starts hosting the voice. gets divorced.

2010 - age 32, gets engaged just months after his divorce. calls it off just three weeks later.

2012 - age 33, makes his last tv appearance on the voice before going on a decade-long hiatus.

[the missing years, tbd]

2021 - age 42, hosts the vmas. it's his first tv appearance in 9 years. starts his podcast, armchair expert.

2022 - age 43, starts a health & wellness podcast called headstart.

2023, may - age 44, gets engaged for a third time.

SUGGESTED CONNECTIONS

ex-wife. they're a lot more amicable now tho their relationship was filled with spite towards the end of their relationship.

best friend, helped him start his journey towards healing and recovery. also probably let him crash on their couch while he was homeless for a lil while.

celebrities who have been on armchair expert.

someone he'd shared a journey in showbiz with. probably lost touch over the years but have recently reconnected ( or about to reconnect? )

90s/2000s artists who've been on total request live. would be interesting to find kindred spirits who've gone on a downward spiral but have now recovered / are recovering and they can look back on the good ol' days that they probably don't miss lol.

someone he'd publicly had beef with in the past a la taylor v kanye, most likely due to his rude and chaotic statements before he got sober.

someone he's had a big crush on.

someone who's had a big crush on him.

someone he was romantically linked with only via tabloids and they laugh about it but 👀 it won't be the worst thing in the world tbh??

#hqglam:intro #maybe one day i'll make a proper graphic for this but for now we're keeping it simple <33 #ch. jordan sanz

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naivara · 2 years

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top 5 places you've ever travelled to and top 5 places you would really like to go <3

White Cliffs of Dover ;A; <3 , England.

Bern, Switzerland <3 (always want to visit again)

Cajón del Maipo, Chile. (Not as fancy as the Alps, but you know? I feel something special in these mountains, Los Andes are Impressive, powerful, alive, full of volcanos, amazing landscapes, there is something magic about these mountains. I hope someday you can visit Los Andes. sadly, greed is destroying the place. I have good memories, the best? its super close to Santiago <3)

Fritzlar, Germany. (a dream come true, since my childhood I dreamed about Germany) It was real, and thanks to Uschi und Reinhold for the visit to Fritzlar, a tiny medieval town that survived time. <3

Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland. Autumn visit, was so cool and pretty, the valley with those red, green colors. <3

NOW, top 5 places I really want to visit. -GERMANY, Heidelberg, or any other place, Im happy with anything, you can show me a pidgeon and I would be happy, <3 -England, Bath . -Edinburgh, Scotland. -San Petersburg or Moscow. - Mexico. or Mongolia, Tibet , sorry, more than 5 XDDDD

#personal #ask game

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travelsbliss · 1 month

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Santiago de los Caballeros, Dominican Republic: The Heart of the Cibao Valley

Santiago de los Caballeros, known as the second-largest city in the Dominican Republic, is rich in culture, history, and natural beauty. From its vibrant markets to its beautiful parks, Santiago offers a unique glimpse into the heart of the Dominican Republic. 🌆🌳

📍 Discover Santiago’s top attractions: Best Places to Visit in Santiago de los Caballeros, Dominican Republic

#SantiagoDeLosCaballeros #VisitDominicanRepublic #CulturalTravel #ExploreDR #CibaoValley #TravelCaribbean #DominicanCulture #HistoricSites #CityExploration #TravelsBliss

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nisafari · 2 months

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Summer is the perfect time to explore new places and create unforgettable memories. If you're looking for a destination that combines history, culture, stunning architecture, beautiful beaches, and delicious food, Valencia, Spain should be at the top of your list. This vibrant city on Spain's southeastern coast is often overshadowed by Barcelona and MadridValencia is a city where the old meets the new, where tradition intertwines with innovation.

Its historic heart, El Carmen, is a maze of narrow medieval lanes filled with Gothic and Renaissance architecture, while the futuristic City of Arts and Sciences, designed by renowned architect Santiago Calatrava the golden sands of Malvarrosa Beach. Visit the bustling Central Market, one of the oldest in Europe

The city is the birthplace of paella, a delicious rice dish typically made with rabbit, chicken, and a variety of beans and vegetables. But there's much more to Valencian cuisine than just paella. Try horchata, a traditional drink made from tiger nuts, or fideuà, a noodle-based dish similar to paella. Visit the Central Market, a foodie's paradise with over 900 stalls selling fresh produce, meats, cheeses, and other local products. Visit https://nisafari.com for travel guides and more destinations across the world.

Its historic center is home to numerous architectural gems, including the stunning Valencia Cathedral, the Silk Exchange, and the Gothic-style Serranos Towers. The city's museums, such as the Museum of Fine Arts and the Valencian Institute of Modern Art, house impressive collections of art and artifacts. Valencia is also known for its lively festivals

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umichenginabroad · 3 months

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Week 5: Cultural Immersion

My family came to visit this week! Started off strong with an organized lunch with our professors where we the students cooked lunch. I got the chance to show off my chops by searing some steaks and topping them with a red wine sauce I made from scratch. After that I met with my family for dinner. I got the chance to show them around and experience some of the nicer restaurants that I can’t afford on my own. It was really nice to see my family again as it feels like every year I see them less and less. With college and internships I spend a lot less time at home so it’s always refreshing to see them again.

Here’s Diego and I whipping up the steaks and another pic with my fam

Wednesday after work I took them to one of my favorite restaurants/tavern called Juantxos. We had bocadillos de tortilla and I taught my mom what a kalimotxo is. Typical drink here that’s half wine and half coke, delicious.

Little bro got a new haircut. They gave him the classic spanish cut.

Thursday was much the same with us exploring the city. We did some shopping and I packed a bag to stay with my family for the weekend. I had Friday off as part of our program.

Friday we decided to drive to the French side of the Basque Country. We explored Saint Jean De Luz and Saint Jean Pied de Port. The Pyrenese are gorgeous. Incredible green landscapes full of cattle. Saint Jean de Luz is a gorgeous city as well. Similar to San Sebastian in that it is a coastal city. It was incredible to see the similarities and differences between the Spanish and French Basque Country. Saint Jean Pied de Port was my favorite place we went to this weekend. Quintessential French Basque town where every house is white with orange roof tiles and built around a stone palace atop a hill. It is the start of the Road to Santiago, a pilgrimage many christians do to Santiago de Compostela. We had delicious food and delicious cider in a cider house.

Saturday we explored Biarritz. My dad has an old friend he met there when he worked at Epcot in college. It was awesome to be shown around by a local and we capped the day off with one of the best meals I’ve ever had at Cafe de Paris.

Souffle at the Cafe De Paris in Biarritz

Sunday we head towards Lourdes. The spot of the appearance of the Virgin at the Grotto of Massabielle. It is a cute town home to a breathtaking church and pilgrimage site. Being raised catholic it was an incredible experience to share with my family. We ended the day back in San Sebastian for the Noche de San Juan celebration. A tradition here for the summer solstice characterized by traditional basque dancing as well as the burning of a tree.

Overall, I had an incredible week. I saw my family, explored new cities, and connected with new cultures. Always a city boy I still think I love the idea of living in a tiny town more than a big city. Hopefully sometime in the future I’ll be able to return to these little towns and stay for longer.

Mateo Jimenez

Mechanical Engineering

Engineering in San Sebastian, Spain

#umichenginabroad #ipetecnun #spain #mateojimenez #ipesummer24

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celtfather · 4 months

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Ireland's New Road #663

We’re going on the road with the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast #663. Subscribe now!

Arise & Go, Philippe Barnes and Tom Phelan, Santiago Molina, The Out of Kilters, Lissa Schneckenburger, Logical Fleadh, Patsy O'Brien, Clay Babies, Louise Bichan, Joey Abarta, Fire In The Glen, Toby Bresnahan, Tradify, Tim Cummings, Pete Sutherland, Brad Kolodner, Altan

GET CELTIC MUSIC NEWS IN YOUR INBOX

The Celtic Music Magazine is a quick and easy way to plug yourself into more great Celtic culture. Enjoy seven weekly news items for Celtic music and culture online. Subscribe now and get 34 Celtic MP3s for Free.

VOTE IN THE CELTIC TOP 20 FOR 2024

This is our way of finding the best songs and artists each year. You can vote for as many songs and tunes that inspire you in each episode. Your vote helps me create next year's Best Celtic music of 2024 episode. You have just three weeks to vote this year. Vote Now!

You can follow our playlist on Spotify to listen to those top voted tracks as they are added every 2 - 3 weeks. It also makes it easier for you to add these artists to your own playlists. You can also check out our Irish & Celtic Music Videos.

THIS WEEK IN CELTIC MUSIC

00:07 - Arise & Go "Strathspeys & Reels: Lennox's Love To Blantyre / Captain Campbell / The Iron Man / Elizabeth's Big Coat / The Bird's Nest" from Meeting Place

04:28 - WELCOME

05:24 - Philippe Barnes and Tom Phelan "New Kings Road/Órlaith's/New Found Out" from The Clearwater Sessions

11:34 - Santiago Molina "The return from Fingal" from Desde un nuevo lugar

14:19 - The Out of Kilters "Ruffled Drawers / Buck Mountain / Speed the Plow" from Hot Potatoes

17:48 - Lissa Schneckenburger "The Ranch" from Falling Forward

22:25 - Logical Fleadh "Gary Bennigan's" from Logical Fleadh (17 - Track Album)

24:01 - FEEDBACK

25:50 - Patsy O'Brien "Lucky In Love" from Onward

28:33 - Clay Babies "Irishman's Heart To The Ladies / SilverSpire / SilverSpear / Fisherman's Hornpipe" from Speechless Vol. 1: Sloppy Session in the Sticks

33:58 - Louise Bichan "Qouyburray" from Out of My Own Light

37:12 - Joey Abarta "The Longford Piper/The Balintore Fancy/Follow Me Up to Carlow (Single Jigs)" from King of the Blind

40:53 - THANKS

42:32 - Fire In The Glen "Boys of Blue Hill / Toormore Polkas" from Cutting Bracken

46:09 - Toby Bresnahan "Miller of Drohan" from All In Good time

49:22 - Tradify "El Garrotín & Muñeira De Casu" from Take Flight

52:31 - Tim Cummings, Pete Sutherland, Brad Kolodner “MacGregor of Roaring Fork" from The Birds' Flight

54:29 - CLOSING

55:26 - Altan "Port Árainn Mhór/Port Kitty Rua Mooney (Jigs)" from Donegal

58:50 - CREDITS

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast was produced by Marc Gunn, The Celtfather and our Patrons on Patreon. The show was edited by Mitchell Petersen with Graphics by Miranda Nelson Designs. Visit our website to follow the show. You’ll find links to all of the artists played in this episode.

Todd Wiley is the editor of the Celtic Music Magazine. Subscribe to get 34 Celtic MP3s for Free. Plus, you’ll get 7 weekly news items about what’s happening with Celtic music and culture online. Best of all, you will connect with your Celtic heritage.

Please tell one friend about this podcast. Word of mouth is the absolute best way to support any creative endeavor.

Finally, remember. Reduce, reuse, recycle, and think about how you can make a positive impact on your environment.

Promote Celtic culture through music at http://celticmusicpodcast.com/.

WELCOME THE IRISH & CELTIC MUSIC PODCAST

* Helping you celebrate Celtic culture through music. I am Marc Gunn.

This podcast is for fans of Celtic music. Not just the big names you’ve probably heard of. But also the Celtic bands in your neck of the woods, at your festivals.

It is here to build a diverse Celtic community and help the incredible artists who so generously share their music with you. If you hear music you love, please email artists to let them know you heard them on the Irish and Celtic Music Podcast. Musicians depend on your generosity to keep making music. So please find a way to support them. Buy a CD, Album Pin, Shirt, Digital Download, or join their communities on Patreon.

You can find a link to all of the artists in the shownotes, along with show times, when you visit our website at celticmusicpodcast.com.

Did you know that Patreon has an app?

It’s one of the easiest ways to listen to the podcast and also to vote in the Celtic Top 20.

If you are a Celtic musician or in a Celtic band, then please submit your band to be played on the podcast. You don’t have to send in music or an EPK. You will get a free eBook called Celtic Musicians Guide to Digital Music and learn how to follow the podcast. It’s 100% free. Just email Email follow@bestcelticmusic and of course, listeners can learn how to subscribe to the podcast and get a free music - only episode.

THANK YOU PATRONS OF THE PODCAST!

You are amazing. It is because of your generosity that you get to hear so much great Celtic music each and every week.

Your kindness pays for our engineer, graphic designer, Celtic Music Magazine editor, promotion of the podcast, and allows me to buy the music I play here. It also pays for my time creating the show each and every week.

As a patron, you get ad - free and music - only episodes before regular listeners, vote in the Celtic Top 20, stand - alone stories, you get a private feed to listen to the show or you can listen through the Patreon app. All that for as little as $1 per episode.

HERE IS YOUR THREE STEP PLAN TO SUPPORT THE PODCAST

Go to our Patreon page.

Decide how much you want to pledge every week, $1, $5, $25. Make sure to cap how much you want to spend per month.

Keep listening to the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast to celebrate Celtic culture through music.

You can become a generous Patron of the Podcast on Patreon at SongHenge.com.

TRAVEL WITH CELTIC INVASION VACATIONS

Every year, I take a small group of Celtic music fans on the relaxing adventure of a lifetime. We don't see everything. Instead, we stay in one area. We get to know the region through its culture, history, and legends. You can join us with an auditory and visual adventure through podcasts and videos. Learn more about the invasion at http://celticinvasion.com/ #celticmusic #irishmusic #celticmusicpodcast

I WANT YOUR FEEDBACK

What are you doing today while listening to the podcast? Please email me. I’d love to see a picture of what you're doing while listening or of a band that you saw recently.

Email me at follow@bestcelticmusic.

Dawn Davis sent a St Patrick’s Day photo:

Ellen Mandeville emailed a photo: "I baked a Guinness Chocolate Cake for St. Patrick's Day dessert! It reminded me of the fabulous meals I enjoyed at Teach Nan Phaidi café on Inis Mór."

Raven Lunatic sent a St Pats photo:

Todd B emailed a photo: “Hi Marc, Had a fantastic St Patrick’s Day. Cooked up some brown soda bread and some beef stew for the family while listening to the Irish and Celtic Music Podcast of course. A couple of my favorite episodes I listened to while cooking included # 185, 2 - hours of Celtic Rock Music, and #141, Bagpipes Rock. Picture of flying the colors and brown bread on the table. Thanks Marc. Slainte."

Rich Hoffman sent a couple photos for St Patrick's Day: "Made traditional Corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, carrots and had a Guinness listening to your music. Wore green, went to church and enjoyed a parade.

Thanks Marc! Still loving your work. Slàinte."

Check out this episode!

#celtic #Irish #Scottish #music #Ireland #Scotland

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