#so many of you are so engrossed in this that you will accept and support anyone who validates your hate

[cherry-holmes]

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña

Chapter 17:

Honeymooners

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Every path you and Javi chose lead to this moment.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Mexican!Fem!Reader

Word count: +3.3k

Warnings: Lots of fluff and honey! Mentions of (lots of) sex. Just Javi and Reader having fun and enjoying their fiancé/honeymooners era🤍

Images in the storyboard are just representative - reader has NO physical description.

A/N: I can't believe this is technically the last chapter of this story!THANK YOU Thank you everyone who has been reading and supporting my work for almost two years! You're amazing, and truly change my life and the confidence I have on my writing. I have so many plans for this story further. Who knows? Maybe in the near future you heard about a Mexican writer publishing some Javier Peña inspired novel😉😙

For now, let's enjoy this chapter! And don't worry, you'll surely still reading more of Javi and Mexican! Reader from time to time.

Chapters 18 and 19 are also available!

Also, my inbox is always open! You can submit requests!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Part 1: The Planning

September, 1994

The house was quiet, illuminated only by the dim light you had left on in the kitchen so your fiancé could find his way inside.

As he turned off the engine of his brand new '94 Ford F-250, Javier took a moment to relax after a long day working with his father and gazed at the soft glow coming from the main room's windows.

He knew you were upstairs, engaged in your now habitual bedtime ritual: meticulously planning the wedding of your dreams. He could perfectly picture you in bed, hair still slightly damp from an early shower, surrounded by more bride-to-be magazines than he could count, along with a notebook where you were taking notes, pasting photos of your findings, and jotting down telephone numbers and addresses of boutiques and venues you wanted to visit... everything to make sure your big day would be exactly as you had envisioned since you were a little girl.

He smiled at the sweet thought.

When he walked through the door, he tossed his keys onto the entryway table, startling Poncho, who splashed in his water. Javier immediately felt bad.

"Sorry, dude," he murmured sincerely.

He stared at the fish for a moment, remembering the first time he'd seen him: back in Colombia, in your apartment. And when everything fell apart and you were sent back to Mexico, Javier couldn't bring himself to leave Poncho behind. So he took care of him.

Even in Washington, while he waited for the verdict on his actions, Poncho had been there; one of the last pieces of you he had left, a quiet reminder of what he was fighting for.

He could still picture the look in your eyes when he brought you to Laredo six months ago: the way you stepped into this very house for the first time, smiling at Poncho and clutching the teddy bear he'd won for you on your birthday, which he also took care of.

It was the most precious thing he had ever seen.

Javi made his way upstairs to your shared bedroom, a small smile tugging at his lips when he found you exactly as he had predicted. Beautiful,  as organized as only you could, the low sound of Te Necesito by Luis Miguel harmonizing your sacred ritual, your beautiful figure delicately dressed in his favorite short sheer nightgown, the scent of your shower products still lingering in the air, blending with the warm fragrance of your favorite candle. And, of course, a new set of magazines had joined your ever-growing collection.

You were so engrossed in your task that you hadn't noticed his arrival. He knocked gently on the door, just enough to catch your attention.

You looked up from your notes, your eyes softening as they met his. A small, knowing smile curved your lips.

"Hey, baby," you murmured, setting your pen down. "Didn't hear you come in."

You patted the space beside you on the bed, a silent invitation he gladly accepted. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he made his way toward you, leaving them at the foot of the bed before he sat on the mattress and started analyzing your well-structured planning board.

Greeting you with a sweet peck on the lips, then he reached for one of the magazines, flipping lazily through its glossy pages. "So, what's tonight's target?"

"Flowers," you said. "What do you think about these?"

Javier tilted his head slightly, studying the carefully marked pages. His fingers traced over a picture of an elaborate floral arrangement. He hummed, and it made you smile because you knew exactly what that meant: he was struggling to find something to say about them.

He didn't know or care a damn about flowers, let alone wedding arrangements. But he wanted to say something, anything, just to make you happy and show he was involved in the wedding decisions. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he searched for the right words.

He finally exhaled, tapping a finger against the page as if he had just cracked some impossible code. "This are... nice," he said slowly. "A lot of flowers. Very... floral and pretty."

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned into his shoulder. "Very insightful, Javi."

He chuckled, rubbing a hand down his face. "Look, bonita, you know I'll like whatever you pick. Just don't ask me to tell the difference between... whatever this is..." he pointed at a bouquet of white roses and peonies, "and this." His finger slid to another bouquet that, to him, looked almost identical.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "One has peonies, the other has gardenias."

"Right. Obviously." He smirked, letting the magazine fall back onto the bed. "Honey, I think I can have a better judgment about the food or the dress..."

"Hold on a minute there," you interrupted, raising your eyebrows and pointing a warning finger at him. "Food? Sure. But the dress? You don't get a say in that one."

Chuckling, he leaned back on his hands. "Why not? You know how much I love watching you try on dresses," he said, and you caught that familiar, suggestive undertone in his voice.

Now you knew exactly why he was so interested.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Absolutely not. Those were just dresses, Javi. This is the dress. It's bad luck for the groom to see it before the wedding."

As you spoke, he was already sitting up again, leaning in to press slow, lingering kisses along your shoulder while his broad hand rested on your lower belly, pushing you into his warm body. A pair of his calloused fingers traced your skin, lowering the strap off your shoulder with practiced ease.

"You actually believe in that?" he murmured, his voice a low, tempting purr against your skin.

Instinctively, your head tilted to the side, giving him space to trace your delicate skin with his soft lips.

"I'm not taking any chances," you answered, though your voice betrayed you; soft, breathless, already caught in his tricks.

"Superstitious and stubborn," his voice warm and teasing. "A dangerous combination. I think I like it, though."

You exhaled a shaky laugh, trying to regain control. "I'm serious, Javi. You can have an opinion on the flowers, the cake, or whatever. But the dress is off-limits."

His hands, warm and deliberate, skimmed down your sides before settling at your waist, squeezing your soft flesh. "Sorry, did you say something? I only caught the part about the dress being off."

Javier hummed against your skin, his stubble grazing the sensitive curve of your shoulder as his lips trailed lower.

"Fuck," he murmured, voice thick with desire. "You smell so damn good." His hands, steady and possessive, slid up your sides. Realizing you weren't wearing anything under the nightgown wasn't a surprise. You could feel the smirk on his lips, knowing you were waiting for him. His fingers curled slightly as he guided you back against the mattress. You didn't resist. How could you, when he owned every part of you?

The magazines and notes scattered across the bed were forgotten, slipping onto the floor as his weight shifted over you.

"You were supposed to be helping me pick flowers," you teased, breathless, though your hands found his shoulders, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

Javier smirked, his fingers already tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your thigh. "I am. Just thinking about another flower that needs to be picked."

You let out a startled laugh, swatting at his chest. "Javi! You're such a shameless man. Qué grosero."

He caught your wrist, pressing a kiss to your palm before murmuring against your skin, "Mhm, but you like me grosero y sucio."

Before you could protest—before you even wanted to—he was already disappearing between your thighs.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Part 2 - The Wedding

May 12th, 1995

Over the past year of planning the wedding, Javier had never felt a hint of nervousness. He always seemed confident and excited to finally tie the knot with you and start the rest of your lives together, just as you both deserved.

But now, standing at the altar, his heart pounded so hard it felt like it might break through his chest.

Not even his father fixing his tie in front of the guests, an act that had made him feel like an embarrassed little boy, compared to the nerves he was feeling now.

What if you had changed your mind? he was thinking. What if you suddenly realized he wasn't the man you wanted? What if he wasn't enough, not worthy of you?

What if your grandfather or your sisters had talked to you, made you see reason, and convinced you to walk away?

Fuck. He felt the urge to run out the Cathedral, find you before you could leave, and convince you to stay. But would he really do that? Would he stop you from escaping the tortured, traumatized mind he carried?

He swallowed hard, his hands clenched at his sides as he forced himself to stay rooted in place.

"She won't," his father's voice pierced his head, low and steady beside him.

"What?"

"She's not going anywhere, son." He told him.

Javier's throat felt tight, the weight of his doubts pressed against his chest. "How do you know...?"

His father chuckled quietly, confident. He shifted slightly, his fingers brushing the cuff of Javier's sleeve in a grounding gesture. "Because I've been right there."

Javier's brows knit together, but he stayed silent, waiting.

"I stood where you are, many years ago. Waiting for a woman who could've done better, who could've walked away. I thought about all the reasons she shouldn't marry me. But she did. And she stayed."

As his father spoke, his eyes shimmered, glassy with the weight of memories of his late wife. Javier felt a sharp pang in his own chest at the thought of his mother. Oh, mamá. He missed her more than anything.

Without a word, father and son exchanged a glance, an unspoken sentiment that echoed between them: I wish she were here. The thought was painful, heavy, but it bound them in quiet understanding. A shared loss, a shared longing.

After a few more seconds, Don Chucho added, "Love isn't about finding someone perfect, hijo. It's about finding someone who's willing to stay when things aren't."

And just like that, something inside Javier settled.

He remembered the way you had begged him—not once, but twice—to let you follow him into the hell if necessary, just so you could stand by his side as everything collapsed in Colombia. You had been willing to sacrifice your own youth and future, just to wait for him, even if he spent an eternity behind bars.

He remembered the determination in your voice, the devotion in your eyes when you clung to him. Face to face, when he was sending you back to Mexico. And later, through the phone line, when you found him in Washington.

You had refused to let him go. You had fought for him, even when he hadn't fought for himself. And that meant the world to him. It saved his life.

Suddenly, the music changed.

Every murmur, every breath in the room seemed to still. His chest tightened, his pulse thundered in his ears.

The doors opened, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. You stood at the entrance, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon light spilling through the church windows. Your dress —the dress— flowed around you like a dream, delicate and perfect, the lace of your dress hugged your body perfectly, the delicate embroidery catching the golden light filtering through the church windows.

He swore he was seeing an angel.

Your eyes found his, unwavering. You weren't running, but walking toward him.

You made your way down the aisle with your grandfather beside you, his posture strong, his expression filled with pride for his little girl.

When you reached Javier, your grandfather pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his eyes lingering on yours. You knew he wasn't looking at a grown woman; he was seeing the little girl who had once fallen asleep in his arms, the one he could never say no to.

He gave your hand a small squeeze before placing it in Javier's. His grip was firm, a silent warning and a blessing wrapped into one.

"Cuídala y ámala," the old man murmured, locking eyes with Javier. "Es la joya más preciada de mi tesoro."

Javier nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I will. With my life."

The ceremony passed in a blur of vows and promises. When it was his turn, Javier's voice was rough with emotion.

"I've done a lot of things in my life, some I ain't proud of," he admitted, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "But standing here with you is the best damn thing I'll ever do."

With teary eyes, you promised to him, "You have save my life in many ways, Javi. I'll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I appreciate it. I love you."

The moment the priest declared you husband and wife, the church erupted in applause and cheers.

Outside, as you stepped into the sunlight, you shared the happiest kiss while your family showered you with the traditional handfuls of rice.

The reception was a true northern Mexican celebration. A conjunto norteño played lively cumbias, the rhythm carrying through the night as guests clapped along, their laughter blending with the music. Bottles of tequila and beers passed from hand to hand, fueling the celebration.

The dance floor was never empty. All of your families twirled their partners dancing, singing, and laughing together. Your sisters pulled you in for a spin, and even Javier, not one for dancing, let himself be dragged into the fun, his hands firm on your hips as you swayed to a romantic cumbia. Even your mother was having fun, and you were genuinely surprised when, out of nowhere, you saw Javier dancing with her.

Later, when the night seemed endless with everyone enjoying your wedding, Javier found you at the edge of the dance floor, your dress swaying gently in the night breeze.

"Tired already, Mrs. Peña?" he teased, one hand finding your waist while the other held a beer.

You hummed, leaning into him. Who could blame you? You had been awake since early morning, and after barely sleeping the night before, as your nerves and excitement keeping you restless, it was finally catching up to you.

You sighed dramatically, tilting your head back against his shoulder. "I think I earned a break," you murmured.

Javier chuckled, pressing a lazy kiss just below your ear. "We could escape, you know," he suggested, his voice low and teasing. "Ditch the party, sneak away like fugitives... just you and me." His fingers traced small circles against your hip, his lips brushing against your skin with every word.

You laughed, turning in his arms to look at him. "¿En serio? And where exactly would we go, Agent Peña?"

He grinned, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the dance floor with a playful urgency. You giggled as he led you through the crowd, dodging tipsy relatives and well-meaning friends who would have stopped you for another toast.

Outside, the cool night air kissed your flushed cheeks as Javier guided you to his truck and opened the door for you.

By the time you arrived at the honeymoon suite Javier had reserved, your heels were already dangling from your fingertips.

Once inside, you exhaled a deep breath, glancing around the elegantly decorated room. Roses, champagne, the soft glow of candles—everything was set for a perfect wedding night. But as Javier leaned against the door, watching you with a knowing smirk, you both silently agreed on one thing.

"Help me out of this dress?" you asked, turning your back to him with a playful glance over your shoulder.

He didn't need to be asked twice. His hands found the buttons along your back, undoing them one by one with deliberate slowness. "I swear, they made this thing impossible on purpose," he muttered, lips ghosting over your shoulder.

By the time you were free, your dress lay in a pile on the floor, replaced by Javier's button-down shirt that barely reached mid-thigh.

Instead of rushing toward the obvious, you found yourselves ordering mini pizzas and a couple of beers from room service, and laughing about everything that happened at the party. You both agreed it was one of the best days of your lives.

However, the exhaustion of the long day and the alcohol in your systems made you both sleepy tired, and before either of you realized it, you were curled up together, his arm heavy around your waist as sleep claimed you both.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sudadita el sol te da

y eso brilla como bling bling

–WELTiTA, Bad Bunny

Part 3 - The Honeymoon

May 20th, 1995

It was the salty air, the sea breeze coming through the room, the golden light shining over your tanned skin...

Los Cabos was a paradise. The kind of place that looks just like a dream Eden. The resort you both had chosen was right on the beach, far from the noise of the city, with private villas instead of crowded hotel rooms. It was made exclusively for honeymooners.

And, oh my, how you’re going to enjoy it.

The first three days of your honeymoon were spent in a haze of tangled sheets, sweat-slicked skin, and the slow, lazy rhythm of two people who had no interest to be somewhere else.

You barely left your villa. Why would you? The bed was massive, the minibar was stocked, and the warm Mexican sun streamed in every morning, caressing your naked bodies in golden light as Javier rolled you beneath him for yet another round.

He was insatiable. Slow and teasing in the mornings, hands roaming your sun-kissed skin as he woke you up in the best way possible. Filthy and desperate in the afternoons, after hours spent lounging by your private pool, watching you sip on a piña colada in your beautiful bikini until he couldn't take it anymore. And at night, when the ocean breeze cooled your overheated bodies, and he took his time with you, whispering against your skin how much he loved you, how perfect you felt taking him, and how he was never going to get enough of it. Of you.

When you did finally leave the villa, you explored the town, indulging in seafood so fresh it melted on your tongue, drinking micheladas as you watched the sun set over the Pacific. You danced in small, lively bars, letting the music carry you away, laughing as Javier spun you around with surprising skill. And when the tequila hit just right, when his hands found your waist and his breath ghosted against your ear, you pulled him out of the bar and into the warm night, finding little spots to satisfy your deepest desires like bandits in the dark.

By the seventh day, you both finally slowed down. Spent afternoons just lying in a hammock together, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your thigh as you dozed off against his chest. You walked along the beach, the waves licking at your ankles, collecting tiny seashells to keep as souvenirs.

On your last night, you sat on the terrace, a bottle of chilled wine between you, watching the stars and the moon reflect over the ocean. Javier reached for your hand, playing with your wedding ring, rolling it between his fingers.

"You happy, Mrs. Peña?" he murmured.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him, slow and deep. "Happiest I've ever been."

And just like that, you found yourself back inside, the sound of the waves mixing with the sound of his name leaving your lips as he made love to you one more time before the honeymoon ended, and the rest of your dream life together began.

NEXT CHAPTER

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 9

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

“This town looks peaceful to an outsider, a perfect place for a pensioner to spend their free time,” Steve commented, his gaze sweeping over the quiet streets.

“I guess the Bronze Lodge is their only destination,” you replied, noting the town’s well-known resort.

He nodded. “It's a great place and helps the economy. Most locals work there.”

You glanced around, recognizing a few faces from your past. “Hmm. I see some familiar people.”

“So, you've met the homecoming queen,” Steve said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“My number one hater,” you responded dryly.

“She will hate you even more after seeing how successful you've become,” Steve chuckled.

You nodded, and the ice between you began to melt as the conversation continued. The years apart seemed to fade as you shared updates and memories.

“Don’t you realize you're talking behind her back? Isn’t she your close friend?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Steve shrugged. “Not anymore. After graduation, all of us went our separate ways. Bucky went abroad to study business, Natasha pursued her modeling career, and others moved to different states.”

He sighed, reflecting on how time had changed their once-close group. As everyone grew older, they followed their own paths. But in the end, almost all of them returned to this town.

“What made me curious is Jake. I thought he would be the one to make it big since he won multiple competitions related to computers,” you said, recalling the prodigious talent he once displayed.

“Ah, Jake. He wanted to be popular so badly back then. Ironically, he got it in the worst way possible,” Steve replied with a hint of regret.

“What happened to him?” You leaned forward, intrigued by the unfolding story.

“Well… Jake got out of control with his IT skills and hacked the department of defense and he made a crypto scam.”

You gasped. “Really?” Would a guy like Jake do something like that?

“The government banned Jake from anything related to coding for a few years,” Steve explained, shaking his head.

“How did you know all of this?” you asked, impressed by his knowledge of the local gossip.

“His mother told her friend, and her friend told her hairdresser, and the hairdresser told everyone at the church,” Steve said with a wry smile.

Gossip travels fast. You almost spilled your hot jasmine tea, laughing at the absurdity. Steve quickly handed you a tissue, and you gratefully accepted it.

“Then… what do you think about Mayor Martin?” you asked, curious about the town's leadership.

Steve's expression turned serious. “I don’t trust him.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Something was wrong if even someone as reserved as Steve didn’t trust the mayor.

⚰️

You went home, Steve's words still lingering in your mind. You needed answers, so you decided to ask your dad about what had happened in the town since you left.

Tom sat in his favorite armchair, engrossed in a thick book. Without looking up, he replied, “There haven't been any significant changes, except for the new resort owned by the Barnes.”

“But,” he continued, his tone growing more somber, “I have noticed an increase in the number of funerals I've conducted for a single travelers.”

'Single travelers?' A cold shiver ran down your spine at his words. "Who paid for the funerals?" you asked, your voice tinged with unease.

“The town mayor, Martin, has been kind enough to pay for the funerals,” Tom added, finally lifting his gaze from the book to look at you.

Your instincts screamed that Martin’s kindness had a hidden agenda. “Don’t you ever wonder why so many tourists die in this town?” you asked, your voice tinged with suspicion.

Tom chuckled, dismissing your concerns with a wave of his hand. “Are you saying there’s a serial killer in this town? That’s impossible. The police have deemed all the deaths accidents.” He closed his book and patted your shoulder gently. “You should go to sleep. You've been working too much.”

As Tom headed to his room, you remained in the living room, deep in thought. Your father, accustomed to dealing with death, seemed numb to its frequency. But not you. The increasing number of deaths didn’t sit well with you, and the mayor’s supposed generosity felt more sinister than charitable.

Should you and your dad leave this town? The question gnawed at you as you pondered your next steps. Once a familiar haven, the town now felt shrouded in mystery and danger.

👠

The next day, you returned to the hotel feeling renewed determination. As you walked into your office, you stopped abruptly. Once cluttered with documents and black binders, the table was completely empty. A wave of panic surged through you. Had someone stolen everything? The scene eerily reminded you of when the FBI raided your office and confiscated all your belongings.

You bolted out of the room and hurried to Bucky's office. As you approached, you heard raised voices from behind the closed door.

“You’re doubting me?” a woman exclaimed.

“At first, but now I have the evidence. Numbers don’t lie,” Bucky responded firmly.

“Hmph. I still can’t believe it. She’s only been here for a few days, and you trust her over your own mother?”

You couldn't take it anymore. You pushed the door open, making both Bucky and the woman flinch. “Are you doubting my skills?” you demanded, crossing your arms and standing confidently.

The woman turned to face you. She was Lydia Barnes, Bucky’s mother. At fifty years old, she exuded elegance and grandeur, her rich lifestyle evident in her designer clothing and impeccable grooming. She looked you up and down, her eyes narrowing.

Lydia remembered you. You used to be a shy girl who never met anyone's gaze. But now, you stood before her with unshakeable confidence. Your eyes, so full of determination, reminded her of someone she detested—your mother.

Lydia’s face hardened. “I see you've returned,” she said, her tone dripping with disdain.

“I have,” you replied, meeting her gaze steadily. “And I found discrepancies in the financial records. Someone has been embezzling money from this resort.”

Lydia's eyes flashed with anger. “How dare you accuse me?”

You maintained your calm demeanor, but your eyes locked onto hers with a sharp intensity. “I didn't accuse you, Mrs. Barnes. But why are you so defensive?” You let the question hang in the air, trying to bait her into revealing more. “It’s impossible for a business owner to steal from their own business, isn’t it?”

Lydia's face went pale for a moment before she recovered, her expression turning icy. She was momentarily stunned, clearly taken aback by your insinuation.

Bucky stepped in, his tone exasperated but calm. “Mom, we’ll discuss this later. Right now, we need to focus on the numbers and figure out what’s really going on.”

You took a step back, observing Lydia carefully. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, and her eyes were narrow slits of fury. She was clearly not used to being questioned, especially not in her own domain.

Lydia straightened up, regaining some of her composure. “Very well,” she said coolly. “But don’t think for a moment that I’ll let this go.”

As she turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of vulnerability in her eyes—a fleeting moment of fear that she quickly masked. It was enough to confirm your suspicions that there was more to this story than she was letting on.

Bucky let out a heavy sigh once she was gone, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that. She’s...complicated.”

You nodded, taking in the tension that still lingered in the air. Lydia was an odd woman, and you couldn't shake the feeling that she harbored a deep-seated dislike for you. The first time you saw her was at her husband’s funeral—Bucky's dad.

Even then, her eyes had fixed on you like a tiger eyeing its prey. You always wondered what you had done to her.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

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[merbear25]

Hey Mer! I've been reading more on Tumblr lately and I've really been enjoying your work. I was wondering if you could write something for a trans reader (ftm) x the cross guild members (Croc, Buggy, Mihawk)?

Maybe the reader works at the guild, one of Buggy's men maybe, and the piece would be the boys navigating asking the reader out for the first time, and the reader feels like he has to reveal that he's trans?

If you aren't comfortable/feel out of your depth, no worries ✨

Hey, Logan!! Thank you for such lovely words. It truly means a lot to know you enjoy my writing. I’m totally fine with writing requests like this, so thank you for sending it in! I got a boost of inspo with Buggy’s part for some reason.😂 I hope I did your request justice and you like what I’ve written for you. 💜💜

CW: trans male reader, coming out to them, fluff

Them asking you out (Cross Guild)

Mihawk

Having first been introduced to you within the workplace, he didn’t really think much of you. He saw this business as something that should remain as such, meaning you were kept on the backburner of his subconscious, though he kept the flame under you burning ever so dimly, allowing you to burn an unforgettable image of yourself in him.

The flame of interest started small for him, burning brighter and hotter as each day passed. With time feeling as if it were standing still when you were around, it dawned on him that he had genuine feelings for you.

However, just because he was sure he had these feelings didn’t mean he was confident they’d be reciprocated. Before fully pursuing you as a romantic interest, he deemed it necessary to observe and learn more about you to get a good reading on how you felt about him.

During one of the quiet moments you spent together engrossed in your own activities, he looked over at you as if wondering what he was about to admit would put you off wanting to be around him anymore. That being said, he took this pleasant time you were sharing to give you a glimpse of what you meant to him.

“Would you care to join me for dinner one night?”

With excitement dancing in your eyes, it was slowly eaten away at. You could feel your heart starting to ache from a creeping fear, one that could very well lead to your heart getting broken. The weight of the situation was apparent by the worry you held on your face.

Not knowing what was troubling you, he gave you a gentle reminder that you were under no obligation to accept his offer, “Don’t feel as if you have to say ‘yes’ to please me.”

Although his voice was kind and supportive, it felt like a dagger nonetheless. You didn’t want him to think you weren’t interested, so you gave him an explanation.

“It’s not that,” you began. “I just think you should know that I’m trans.” With so much feeling at stake, the moment of silence between you telling him and him responding was deafening.

“I appreciate you telling me, but with all do respect that doesn’t make a difference. You’re still you at the end of the day.”

Even with maintaining that stoic demeanor, his delivery alluded to the affection he had for you rising within him.

“So, will you be joining me for dinner?”

With a sigh of relief you gladly accepted.

Crocodile

A man that many feared but few actually knew—that was the way he liked keeping it. But when that sad excuse of a business partner introduced you to him, that may have been the first time he thought Buggy had made a good choice.

Though the moments you were around each other were scarce at the beginning, he gradually requested your assistance more and more often. You were admittedly nervous to be spending so much one-on-one time with him, but as time passed and you both got used to the idea of being around each other, things felt less precarious for you. 

Despite your nerves becoming more at ease, his were doing the opposite. Those walls he’d put were beginning to crumble, letting a sinking feeling settle in his chest. When he sat alone, he pondered the marvel of the effect you had on him. “Would it be worth it? Telling you that he’d come to have feelings for you?” He asked himself. Putting his cigar out, he came to his decision.

The next day came with tension in the air, which was his doing. After mulling over the right approach and weighing the pros and cons of confessing, now it was time to put his guarded heart on the line.

“There’s a nice restaurant not far from here. I’m going there on Saturday if you care to join me.”

The invitation was purposefully left ambiguous and open-ended, so as to maintain some sense of control over the outcome.

Such a request took you off guard; you stood there for a moment like a deer in headlights, making his cheeks prickle with a blush from the rising embarrassment.

“Forget it.” He was quick to retract his offer.

“No, I-I want to, it’s just…” When he cocked his eyebrow at you, the reason you gave was far from anything he was expecting. “I’m trans and I just didn’t really know how to tell you.”

It felt as if he was staring into your soul before finally responding with a slightly cold, “You had me worrying over something like that? That doesn’t matter to me.”

In spite of his icy exterior, his offer still stood, which you happily took him up on.

Buggy

When he first hired you, it was partly out of desperation. You seemed competent enough to help him maneuver through a lot of the mess he always found himself in. You were clever and fun to be around, not to mention cute. That final thought slipped past him so suddenly that he hadn’t even noticed his fondness for you growing over the time you’d been working there. 

With all the hours you spent together, it was no wonder he was growing attached to you. He felt at a crossroads: wanting to see where the path with you would take him, while the other was muddied from doubt of you returning his feelings.

However cautious he felt about approaching you, his feet carried him to you. When you noticed him idly standing in the doorway, he buried the real reason for him being there.

“I just came here to make sure you were keeping up with your work,” he said with feigned confidence as he pretended to examine the job you’d done.

He knew that you were the only one who could see through that mask of his, but seeing as he only put that mask on when he was hiding something, you asked him gently, “There isn’t anything else you came to ask me?”

His heart skipped a beat and his eyes locked on yours, proving your hunch. “Well, I just think you’ve been slacking a bit and came to do some quality checks.” Despite the stance he took, his voice was shaky.

“And I…I thought I would,” he cleared his throat. “I thought I’d ask you out.”

When your immediate response wasn’t over the moon with joy, he backpedaled. “Nah, you know what? I don’t want to. It’d be too much trouble come to think of it.”

It was all happening so quickly that you barely had a chance to digest the situation. With him brushing off all your stuttering attempts to talk to him, the sentence, “I’m trans and that’s why I hesitated,” poured out of your mouth.

He turned on his heel to look at you, firstly to see if you were playing some kind of weird joke on him, and secondly if you were serious to think he’d reject you for that.

“I don’t care about that,” he huffed.

Watching the color come back to your face and the light in your eyes return made him acknowledge the vulnerability he felt around you—the way you made him feel like no one else could. Once you gave him the answer he was hoping for, things seemed just a tad less scary.

[smooth-perceval]

“My love, my life.”

You stupid boy

Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

PART FIVE

Max Corner

Summary: [Max and reader crossed the line in their 3 year friendship, resulting in 2 positive pregnancy test. And 1 baby on the way.]

Max and reader get an early scan to find out the gender… and at a private gender reveal, someone accidentally reveals all to the world.

Warnings: swearing, soft max, Google translate, NO PROOF READ!!

Key: Y/N (Your name) Y/L/N (Your last name)

Word count: 2,356

A/N: We are finally back with maxieee 🫶🏼 I did rush- because I got so many ideas I’m sorry :(

“Dad-” picking my dress up I chased after him back up the steps towards the house, Max trailing right behind.

“Will you slow down-” watching each step I take, glancing up every so often.

“Your mother is not going to believe this!” Pointing his finger in the air… more like a wag really. Shaking his head he then reached the top of the garden, mum and Lando sitting on the garden furniture engrossed in conversation.

“But dad-” Max hand was pressed against my back- giving me the little support I need, our pace slowing down as we got closer to mum.

“Darling! You are not going to believe this.” By the random outburst, mum was quick to scan over us all making sure we was all okay.

“Dad-”

“No, your mother deserves to know!”

“Know what?” Confused she looked between us both.

“Who the father is!”

“Oh-”

“It’s Max!” Cutting her off, he turned his face glaring at Max.

“I know…” waving a hand in front of her she smiled over at Max.

“No no… not I know! This is the sleezeball I swore if I found I’d strangle him!” Turning his full attention now to Max.

“You won’t do nothing.” Stepping more infront of Max, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“He abandoned you Y/N!”

“We’re working on that.” Looking down at the floor, I shuffled a little under his gaze.

“Please dad… just be glad we know who it is right?”

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have ran away like I did-” stepping aside, Max moved closer to my dad.

“I was silly, and scared- and had a lot of things to be dealing with family wise…”

The silence was deafening… I was waiting for a punch up honestly- more my dad lunging on Max… I mean I didn’t have a great word to say about him when he left and my dad got the earful of it all.

“I’m really am sorry…”

“You should accept- Max doesn’t ever say sorry.” Looking over I shushed Lando shaking my head.

A loud sigh left my dad as he stepped back, if looks could kill. Well Max would be a goner.

“I do not forgive you for what you put my daughter through these past few months.”

Point a finger at Max, who was quickly nodding his head. “I haven’t forgiven myself yet-” he was agreeing with him, I finally was able to relax, moving over and sitting down next to Lando.

“But Y/N seems too.” Side eyeing me he then quickly looked back at Max.

“So I will tolerate you for the sake of my grand-baby.” Stomping off indoors he then turned back around on the patio.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be like this Max. Not to my little girl.” And then he hid away indoors… the silence growing sickly.

“Yay! The parents know.”

We all snapped our heads to Lando with a scowl, “Shut up” me and Max spoke in unison shaking our heads at him.

—

Before we had knew it- time flew by. I was officially 18 weeks pregnant, and Max was finally on summer break.

During that time- we had told drivers around the paddock- and made them swear to secrecy. Also- Max and Kelly had called it quits, behind closed doors she was absolutely furious I was having his baby… and I couldn’t blame her any woman would be.

Apart from them main events, nothing major happened- max was winning his races, helping look for good apartments in England. Overall he was fantastic… too fantastic that I’m on edge waiting for the moment he ups and leaves again… I shouldn’t think so low of him but can you blame me.

Dads grudge didn’t last long, he even took it upon himself to congratulate Max after every race win. Which was another worry off my shoulders.

“Y/N- come on, everyone is waiting on you.” Turning away from my mirror, I looked over at Max.

“I don’t look silly?” Eyes scanning over me, maybe lingering a little too long- he quickly cleared his throat.

“Not at all… you look amazing actually.” Nodding his head, his cheeks flushed a little red.

“Well you do scrub up well-” smiling I then moved past him tapping his arm.

Making my way out into the garden, a loud cheers erupted. A mixture of “there she is-” “Let’s get started!” “Where’s max”

“I’m here- I’m here.” Max hand found the bottom of my back as he followed behind.

And as always one by one people gave us both hugs and gifts. A few drivers were here, Lando obviously, Daniel, Charles, Carlos, Checo - yeah I was kinda surprised too, Nyck. It was full-

“Look how big you got!” Gesturing to my growing belly, my brows furrowed.

“I didn’t mean-” with wide eyes he waved infront of his mouth. “Charles I’m kidding-” smiling, laughing a little, I looked down at my belly.

“Bigger by the day- soon I’ll be waddling like a penguin.” Laughing also, Charles looked over at Max who was in the corner speaking with his mum.

“How’s Max been with it all?” Looking over at Max also, I hummed.

“It’s been an experience so far that’s for sure.” Smiling again, nudging Charles shoulder.

“Wouldn’t be Max if it wasn’t somewhat eventful, right?” Agreeing with me, he smiled again.

“What we talking about?” Carlos slid in joining our conversation. He was wearing a pink badge, pink wrist band, pink sash- pink everywhere.

“Oh hi Barbie.” Widening my eyes, I stepped back getting a full glance at him.

“Mate, you think it’s going to be a boy?” Charles laughed a little, also looking him up and down.

“No… a girl-” pointing at the pink badge, with furrowed brows.

“His pulling your leg Carlos.” Rolling my eyes playfully, which only caused Carlos to tut.

“Where did you find all that anyways?”

“On the table over there-”

Charles looked around before patting Carlos back “thanks mate-” , before running after the table of accessories. Shaking my head at him, I looked back at Carlos.

“So your thinking girl huh-” nodding my head a little, taking a sip of my drink.

“I knew it as soon as use told us, I just had to look at you and knew it was a girl.” Nodding his head sure of himself.

“What are you thinking?” Humming I looked back down at my belly, “is it bad I have no idea…”

“Of course not! Makes it more fun right?”smiling Carlos touched my arm in a comforting manner leaving me alone, sighing I looked around before making my way to Max.

“Hi girls!” Smiling wide, I was brought into a tight hug from Sophie- followed by Victoria.

“Hey you, how’s the baby been?” Smiling wide, Sophie reached her hand out touching the baby bump.

“Nothing new… still morning sickness- the doctor gave me some anti-sickness tablets, but there as much use as a chocolate kettle.” Rolling my eyes, my frown soon replaced with a smile.

“Buttt, baby is all healthy so why should I complain!” Max smiled throwing an arm around my shoulders.

“Shall we get the reveal going?” Nodding my head enthusiastically, he lead us over to the display he had arranged to be set up- as always with max go big or go home.

“Right everyone- just before we do this.” Everyone’s attention was drawn to Max, even mine, I told you his like a magnet!

“We do ask that if you want to take photos you can! But please keep them to yourselves- we don’t want anything on social media, not until we are ready.” Looking around at everyone he raised his eyebrows “understood?” A few nods and yes’s were heard around the group.

“Oh who has my mum and dad?” Glancing between them all, Lando then waved his phone- “their on FaceTime.” Smiling wide I waved at the camera before looking up at Max.

“You ready?” Breathing out a big breath I smiled reassuringly at him.

“Weirdly enough I’m terrified.” Taking his hand, agreeing with him we both turned to everyone.

“Countdown from three-”

“3-”

”2-”

”1-”

With a tight squeeze to his hand, everyone looked up at the sky…

And there it was painted in blue smoke.

Once again the garden filled with shouts of excitement.

“We’re having a boy-” without hesitation Max picked me up into his arms, jumping on the spot a little before setting me down. He clearly didn’t know what to do with himself… me? I was in shock-

“Oh my- we’re having a boy…” my hands came up to rub my temple- a wide smile broke out onto my face- the realisation finally setting in, I was quick to hug Max once again.

“Max we’re having a boy…” maybe it’s the hormones I don’t know- but the tears spilled once again- all I am lately is just a blubbering mess. I mean the other day I cried because the size of baby socks… baby socks!

“We are schat.” (Darling) Rubbing my back soothingly, he placed a delicate kiss to the top of my head- soon our little bubble was popped.

“And you thought it was going to be a girl!” Charles laugh was then heard and when everyone turned and looked he had a finger pointed at Carlos, bent over slightly. “Mate you look so silly.” Shaking my head at him a little smile on my face I looked up at Max. “These are your friends?” Shaking his head quickly, a smile also on his face. “I don’t even know them.”

Glancing back over I watched Lando bringing my mum and dad over, (on the phone of course), Sophie and Victoria with the two boys now slowly making their way over with wide smiles.

Another mini max… the world really isn’t ready.

Once congratulated- Waving byes to my parents, I blew them a kiss ending the phone and giving it back to Lando.

He pocketed his phone and then hugged me tight. “I’m so happy for you.” Leaning back he dragged max away from his family bringing him in the hug.

“And you- I’m so happy for you both.” Squeezing him tight, we all slipped away, me and max doing our rounds.

“Bet he feels like a boy now?” Smiling up at Carlos, who had his arms outstretched pulling me into a tight hug. “Congratulations!”

Smiling wide I pulled back, “thank you, and strangely enough… yeah.” Laughing a little I looked down at the tiny bump and back over at max.

“Think his happy?”

Carlos followed where I was looking, Max was grinning ear to ear, retelling how he felt when he see blue for the third time already.

“I would say so.” Laughing a little I then left him be, Charles now finding me. “I knew it!” Shaking my head with a smile, he then hugged me tight. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, you know I thought you was thinking girl by what your wearing.” Leaning back I looked at all the blue items.

“No… I’m wearing blue.” Shaking my head once again, I laughed a little “I’m now pulling your leg Charles.”

“Oh- I’m stupid.” Laughing along with me, Max then slid at our side. “You both okay?”

Nodding our heads charles patted max on the shoulder saying congratulations to him again before leaving us be.

“How are you feeling?” Subconsciously he raised the back of his hand to my forehead, before brushing some loose strands back… I couldn’t help gazing up at him- I’ll be honest them feelings never go away- the butterfly’s in my stomach, the blushed cheeks when his nearby… I couldn’t help it my body seemed to call out for him.

“Still in shock-" laughing a little, max smiled in return. “I can’t believe we’re having a boy…” whispering between us both like it was our own little secret.

“Truthfully I can’t believe we’re having a kid.” Max rose his hand to his chest taking a step back. “I’m going to pretend that didn’t hurt.” Rolling my eyes with a smile, I found my hand reaching for his forearm. Like I needed to be touching him somehow.

What is wrong with me…

—

Truthfully I couldn’t tell you what happened at the rest of the gender reveal, all I know is now, me and max are laying on the floor in his apartment going through baby names already.

My head was rested against his arm, my legs kicked up onto the sofa. Max was laying outstretched listening to me reel off names.

“Okay what aboutttt… Charlie?” In response a loud groan came from max.

“No that reminds me of Charles.” Laughing a little I flicked the page of the book scanning through.

“What about… Micky?”

“Like the mouse?”

“That’s off the table-” rolling my eyes at him even though he couldn’t see me.

“I like the ‘Mmm’ though- for the first letter.” Humming in agreement with him, I scanned the pages more.

“What about Milo-”

I dropped the book backwards, tilting my head back to see max, who seemed in deep thought.

“I like Milo…” smiling up at him I sat myself up, turning to face him.

“Milo… Emilian”

“You want my middle name?” Max also sat up, resting on his hand, keeping him propped, I nodded my head slightly.

“If that’s okay with you…?”

Enthusiastically he nodded his head in return. “I think it’s simply lovely.” Bursting out into laughter we both fell back into laying positions, my head now laid against his stomach.

“Another MEV.” The silence was loud-

“V?”

“Verstpapen.” Whispering just loud enough that he could hear me.

“Are you sure?”

“More positive than a pregnancy test…” both laughing a little, his hand reached down touching my cheek.

“Thank you-”

“You-” I was cut off by both mine and Max phones blowing up.

Both looking at each other we could only wonder what’s going down now…

I had millions of notifications from more instagram- when I clicked on. I felt my stomach drop.

“Max are you seeing this…” looking up at him, he only nodded his head slightly.

“I’m gonna kill him…”

Lando Norris posted to his story

—

Masterlist

[daughterofninemoons]

i need some of yall to understand the political situation in america. THE. SYSTEM. IS. RIGGED. both candidates are bad, both are asshole rich people who dont care for the people, but since so many Americans are engrossed in the propaganda machine they wont vote for a third party.

Yes i know Kamala Harris is a shit human being but her campaign says “yeah you can exist” vs Trump whose campaign is all about being racist and doing genocide.

No I cant leave the country all of my goddam stuff is here and the other English speaking countries are worse

No I cant not vote because I want to make sure Im not actively hatecrimed when I leave my house

Yes I know Kamala supports the genocide in Palestine and thats a horrible opinion, but every fucking candidate does

Yes I believe that the system needs to be washed in the blood of revolution but too fucking many of you are dividing yourselves and THE ONLY WAY WE WIN IS TOGETHER SO STOP FUCKING WHINING AND START FIGHTING BECAUSE THE ONLY LANGUAGE THEY KNOW IS VIOLENCE

No I dont support the genocide in Palestine for obvious reasons, and those who do and ignored it will have their shit rocked in due time

Yes I know im white and thereby have significantly benefited from the system and that there other people more deserving of where I am, I know so many bright and dazzling minds deserving of cultivation and a place that matches them be stamped and crushed beneath the heel of the system but my whiteness doesnt mean im against them

Yes I help where I can but my funds and mental capacity are limited by school

No I dont fucking want to live here

im begging you all instead of crying on tumblr about how both candidates are shit human beings, at least vote for the shit human being whose campaign is accepting everyone.

I hold the core belief that the world is a good place and each and every person can be reformed to see the error of their ways. I was once one of the trans hating misogynists but then I reformed myself.

I want to be able to love the man I love without either of us facing persecution

I want to be free

THE ONLY WAY WE WIN IS TOGETHER

- a soul of love

[jen-said-that-]

'I Think Maybe You Thought It Was Something Else' - Goldfinch Analysis

I expend so much mental energy thinking about this conversation. Was Boris really being honest here? Did their encounters mean so little to him? Tartt implies it did occur at least once after he began dating Kotku, so I'm not sure his explanation about 'needing girls' holds up. How heartbreaking for Theo, who so plainly adores Boris and has had an ongoing sexuality crisis over his experiences with him for years.

I did read a good analysis about this recently, which highlighted that Boris is a person of action. He is regularly dishonest and hyperbolic in speech, but he acts authentically. Therefore, I think he shows his love for Theo in the way he outwardly behaves towards him, both in Vegas era and NYC/Amsterdam time – he kisses him goodbye, he's the one to initiate all of their physical affection in general, and let's not forget his life advice, 'stay away from the ones you love too much, those are the ones who will kill you,' right before he quite literally risks his life for Theo and was willing to die so he could escape in that parking garage.

Why the aloof attitude about their sexual history, then? What's his motivation for undermining it in this offhand, callous manner? I think there are a few possibilities. Boris is very observant, and sees Theo's discomfort with queerness plainly over the years he's know him. Think about how defensive Theo becomes even just a few minutes before this interaction when Boris asks if Hobie is is partner, much to Boris's annoyance. Or, when they were in Vegas, how put off Theo acts when Boris asked if Hobie was 'an old poofter?' (said light-heartedly by Boris, but taken rather seriously by Theo). I get the sense that Boris suspects Theo is queer and very uncomfortable with it, and so he doesn't want deal with Theo's reaction to addressing their past sincerely.

Another possibility is tied up in Theo as an unreliable narrator. We find out in this conversation that Theo said and did a whole lot that we never heard about from his perspective during the Vegas years, whether that be due to him blacking out or simply because the narrative is framed through his own internalised homophobia. Who knows what he said to Boris about their relationship at that time, blackout drunk, or how his shame and discomfort generally affected Boris? I've always thought the suddenness of Boris's attachment to Kotku strange. He seems perfectly content and fulfilled by his intimate relationship with Theo and then one day is wholly engrossed in this random girl? This could be reaching, but I've imagined that perhaps Theo's unchecked depression and shame about his sexuality became too much for Boris. Perhaps he had to disengage for his own good.

Which brings me to my final conclusion – Boris here is essentially rejecting Theo before he gets 'rejected' himself, because loving someone who is ashamed of their sexuality feels like a constant rejection. Boris has faced a lot of loss and abandonment in his own life. He clearly fears vulnerability and real, lasting intimacy (consider his inability to remain in one place very long, lack of faithfulness in his various relationships, mistrust for anything stable or safe, etc). While he may not have the internalised homophobia in the same way Theo does (he seems fairly easy going and accepting towards other queer characters), his major obstacle to being honest with Theo about how he feels is his fear of rejection and commitment which permeates his adult life. Otherwise, this conversation would just indicate that he does not feel very deeply for Theo at all, which we know is not true. The text supports requited feelings between them that never get properly addressed. One of the (many) great tragedies of this novel.

[bloodsworn-marshal]

Writing Prompt: Third-rate Word Count: 917 ---> masterlist

“Coffee?”

“As black as night.”

“Aye. You and me both then.”

Rare was the opportunity that Pipin Tarupin and Cocobuki Lolobuki were able to meet up like this, where their schedules aligned and thus did they have a moment’s breath to catch up with one another. They were both workaholics, you see. Engrossed and dedicated to their role and to that of bettering Ul’dah as a whole. Just as they had when they first met… and just as they continue to do so even now.

“Glad was I to have you and yours at my backside when we first set out for Garlemald.” Pipin finished brewing their bitter cups of coffee, setting them down on a small table in the corner of his office. They had decidedly chosen Pipin’s private office for their little get-together. There were no listening ears in these thick walls and countless a time Pipin invited individuals for meetings much like this one. Both of them were men who valued their privacy… they were safe speak freely as much as they’d like.

“Do we not always answer your call?” Cocobuki hummed in response, gladly accepting his cup and sipping gingerly of the steamed drink. Even alone as they were, his dark hood remained and cast shadows over his one glaring red eye. “There is no others I trust more in this rotted city than those of my own… and a certain someone of the Steel Heart.”

Cocobuki cast an amused glance Pipin’s way, to which the older of the two shrugged and took to his seat. “Progress is slow but steady as I weed out the remnants of those dark days. Change is coming… and it is with your help that I’ve been able to make some headway in the places I am unable to reach.”

“Still. I did not ask you here to bemoan politics and the like.” Pipin sipped deeply from his cup. The kick he would need to make it through the rest of the day. “How are things with your brothers since returning? Or rather… the youngest of your lot.”

The one who was never allowed to come along on their dangerous ventures. The one who was never allowed to brandish a wand nor staff to try their hand at the self-same magicks their elder brothers could convey. Else their body would break apart with so low an aetheric capacity. What many whispered to be the inferior of all six brothers in the halls belonging to the mages.

That didn’t bother Cocobuki. In fact, a softhearted smile graced the guildmaster’s lips. “There is hope yet in my youngest sibling’s eyes. Though he’ll never follow the magical arts like his other brothers, he excels in many other areas that we do not. He’s come to finally accept where his talents truly lie.”

There was a fondness in that sole eye of his. That, regardless of his youngest brother’s failings, they were brothers all the same. And he’d support Cocobusi no matter the path he took—so long as he dare not tread that of thaumaturgy.

“Cocobusi has always been gifted in his alchemical creations. His contributions have greatly benefited the guild with elixirs and the like to give our mages a boost.” Cocobuki leaned back in his chair and breathed a content sigh after another sip of coffee. “Though of late, it would seem he’s dabbled in the art of culinary confections. And I must admit… he’s picked up on it incredibly well.”

“Must be nice, having someone you can depend on for grand cuisine meals at one’s beck and call.” Pipin swirled the little bit of coffee left in his cup.

Cocobuki let out a sinister laugh. He knew exactly whom his friend was alluding to. “You’re no better! Neither you nor my little cousin have a gift for it, that much is true. But at least she isn’t nearly as much a calamity in the kitchen compared to when you try your hand. Twelve forbid she lets you!”

“She’s getting better.” Pipin huffed with a roll of the eyes. Though Cocobuki did have the right of it—anything Pipin ever touched before a cookfire would come out charred and burnt through all seven layers of hell one wagered.

“And at the very least… she managed to overcome that which stunted her growth into the magical arts. She never gave up. Your cousin managed to claim back her power by her own merit.” A pause as Pipin wondered aloud. “It does make one ponder if Cocobusi might still have a chance one day.”

Cocobuki calmed his laughter once more, waving a dismissive hand. “Her situation was entirely different. She had the capacity for it. But something was blocking her aetheric channels. The moment whatever it was that was holding her back all those years had disappeared, of course she’d be able to wield magicks much like any other thaumaturge.” And so lucky was she that she did not incapacitate herself or worse before that point.

“So then there truly is no hope for Busi then…”

“And he has made peace with that.” Cocobuki set his cup aside then. Resting his elbows atop the table and leaning into the palm of his hands.

“But enough about my brothers and family. Word on the street is…”

Pipin also leaned in now and listened closely to Cocobuki’s words. Ever his informant… and a friend with many a new joke that left them both laughing from the dark humor brought to the table.

[simonsquest]

one of my favorite scenes that i just recently re-read, is the one where simon's giving his big ol speech after defeating dracula and Laurent smiles at him and says his parents would be proud :) such a wonderful reward after enduring so much grumpiness lol. and for a scene im curious about, can you tell me more about the interaction between simon and his vampire hunter friend in ch. 52? i was thoroughly engrossed in their back-and-forth! i still wonder why the stranger was so adamant about simon abandoning ship. it seemed well-meaning to me, but maybe its not! maybe he's evil! we'll see! also, it seems Simon's attitude towards his son is different than it was in the past- before, he was so resistant and even horrified by the idea of passing the whip to him, but in the future it seems to be something he has woefully but certainly accepted, with lines like "...my deeds will live on faithfully in my son”, and "If I am capable of honouring my father long deceased, my son will be, too". its a sad but necessary development to see family-guy Simon accept that he can't just show love to his family by giving them hugs and kisses and keeping them out of harm's way. loving your family sometimes means abandoning them, dying and leaving them helpless, and respectfully passing on the torch........... just aRRGHJGAHSDGJHSD

Firstly, thank you as always for your endless support and enthusiasm. I can’t tell you how delighted I am whenever I receive multiple paragraphs from you - seriously! You’re the best. ^_^

Aw that’s so sweet! I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that Laurent’s #1 fan would appreciate the fleeting moments of him showing kindness, hehehe.

With regard to chapter 52 and the nameless vampire hunter, I won’t confirm or deny if it’s well-meaning or not. And it’s tough because I really want to elaborate on it, but it’s something that’s better left to be unveiled in the story. :^)

But I’ll say this: the stranger’s plea for Simon to abandon his quest came from a very personal place. It’s rooted from a few pivotal facts: how he’s seen people around him turn to worship Dracula. Having gone on his own quest to try and reverse the vampirism in his wife without success. What he had to leave behind in pursuit of that, and of course the hurt of what it meant to lose her, and to lose what little community he could have had in Ondol.

You’re absolutely right about that. I have a headcanon that there’s a very specific reason why Juste is the one to inherit the VK, and not any of Simon’s direct descendant(s):

because Simon chose to hold onto, and fight with, the VK for as long as humanly possible. His intention from the very beginning was to spare his child(ren) of that burden. Rooted in this headcanon, in my mind the VK would never be inherited by Mathieu, even when he reaches sixteen. It would only go to Juste when Simon truly cannot fight any more. (I have so many ficlet ideas brewing about this very topic…)

But that isn’t to say that Simon would not prepare Mathieu in other ways. Simon deeply respects the Belmont family history and would want for that to be valued and honoured well into the future. That can only be done by sharing stories, and allowing Mathieu to be the witness to them. To fight alongside (see: behind) his father when he’s of age, but Simon would never permit him to bear the weight of it as he did, entirely alone.

Simon’s a bit over-protective, but with good reason!

But it’s inevitable and futile to continue to try and spare anyone strung along into this bloodline from their part in it.

“loving your family sometimes means abandoning them, dying and leaving them helpless, and respectfully passing on the torch……….. just aRRGHJGAHSDGJHSD”

DSJHFBSIDFHBSH I’M EMOTIONAL aaaaaa. You hit the nail on the head: Simon realizes his mortality in his cursed state, and that Death might claim him far sooner than he could have ever hoped. And that changes everything.

“Return to your family, to your wife and your son waiting for you.” (Author’s translation: “Go cherish your time with your family while you have it, you’re not long for this world.”) […] And though Simon wants to vent his frustrations for having more of his time wasted, there is something about the manner in which his travelling companion has conveyed his words that causes Simon’s heart to ache. He knew well the risk of venturing on this quest. He knew that he may never return from it, deteriorated as he has become.

All of this introspection just makes me even more excited for you to experience the story as it continues. Thank you again!

[boybandposter]

[Headcanons]

⤷𐙚 featuring: Anna 🤍

⤷𐙚 this was the second part to another request ! thank you for requesting me anon ♥︎

⤷𐙚 WLW ♥︎

₊˚ʚ 🤍₊˚✧ ﾟ.

- The day you met Anna, you two immediately clicked. After meeting at an art class in your boarding school, you couldn’t help but notice the meticulous detail in her paintings. In your eyes, it lacked the personality that most art held, but it was impressive how she captured the likeness of any scene. After approaching her and complimenting her, you two were always seen with one another.

- Whether it be at your own house or Anna’s, it would always be filled with afternoons of painting and watching her practice fencing. Watching her handle a blade was similar to watching her brushstrokes— planned and precise. It was mesmerizing how aggressive she could be as such a gentle soul, which has inspired many of your paintings of Anna.

- Even though Anna has a “glass half full” mentality, she’s nearly ranted to you about how frustrated she secretly is about not being good enough. The amount of time she’s spent on art, only to be told time after time about the lack of emotion that was in her pieces. Anna has spent many nights crying to you, only for her to put on a smile the next day. It worried you, but all you could do was offer your unending support for her.

- After two years of knowing Anna, deep down you had come to realize your feelings for her. Luckily for you, she had as well. The two of you had painted one another portraits to express your love for one another. With paintings tucked under your arm, both of you confessed under the light of the moon, giggling and kissing one another senselessly.

- I feel like with Anna being colorblind, you would be the one helping her with clothing shopping. It was almost like Anna was your dress-up doll, and she was more than willing to do so for you (plus, she’d much rather let you make those decisions for her).

- At times while Anna is engrossed in her painting, you’ve caught her off guard— making her jump from the disturbance. She’ll never be upset about it though; she considers it a welcome interruption. Nothing would beat the feeling when you would drape your arms across her shoulders, your face nuzzling against her own. Gods, it’s her absolute favorite.

- Anna’s a light sleeper for sure. When you two are sleeping and you move away from her, she’s wide awake. She’ll practically hunt you down to cuddle up against you— she hates being away from you, even if she knows you’re right there beside her.

- The one thing Anna will make sure of is that you two have a pet or two. She wouldn’t accept anyone who doesn’t love pets. Anna loves cats, but I can imagine her taking you on a date to pick two kittens. Her entire camera roll is filled to the brim with pictures of you with the pets, and she frequently looks back on them with a smile.

- Before you two had even gotten into a relationship, she always expressed her love of traveling. Every year during the summer, you two will take a week-long trip to wherever you two decide. Anywhere with the ocean and art galleries is her favorite, but what’s most important to Anna is that you’re happy.

- Anna cherishes the times when you clean the paint off of her skin. The gentle caresses of the cloth in your hand make her melt under your touch immediately (she won’t admit it, but she’ll purposefully wipe paint on her arms or face).

- You’ll have to teach her to communicate her actual feelings. All her life she hid how she felt— and it transferred into her relationships. Anna often pushed her opinions aside to please you, but you could always tell she was telling white lies. Anna doesn’t mean to, but losing you would ruin her.

- What else would Anna paint more than her only muse? You’ve already found several little sketches along notepads and the like, plus many portraits that Anna has done of you. She can’t help it though; you’re always on her mind and her canvases.

₊˚ʚ 🤍₊˚✧ ﾟ.

⤷𐙚 author’s note: man what a writers block tbh— I have so many ideas but my keyboard has been acting up :(

[thoughtsaboutautism]

The romantization and trivialization of Autism Spectrum Disorder in the book "Unmasking Autism"

It's taken me a while to post this, even though I had the whole text written already. The problem is that every time I pick up this book or write anything about it I have a really hard time dealing with my emotions. This book is so bad and harmful that every time I have to think or read it – even if I'm doing so to criticize it – I have a hard time.

Anyways, I came across this table of "common, healthy autistic behaviors" (I didn't get that far in my reading yet) and I decided to make this post based on what I had already posted on Twitter.

The first thing that I need people to understand is that however you feel about your autism, however you identify, autism is, inherently, a severe developmental disorder that causes severe disability. You CANNOT have autism if you do not have deficits and impairments and I DO NOT CARE how you feel. Autism is classified so because people who have it need help, need A LOT OF help, REGARDLESS of whether we live in an accepting society or not and autism does not exist without impairment/deficit because if it did it would not be autism, it would simply be a personality trait.

The second thing that I need to say is that the traits listed on this table absolutely do exist in ASD but they are being put in an extremely romanticizing way and if one experiences ASD purely as described on this chart, then they likely do not have ASD. This is the exact problem with Tiktok, Twitter and other social media current content about autism, it's shallow, lacks context and is romanticizing. This kind of content is why so many people end up self-diagnosing with autism without actually having it, it's why people like myself – who have more difficulties – have a harder time fitting in, because current autism advocacy, such as this book and other social platforms, are advertising a type of autism that is cute and fun and easy to deal with, while autism is an extremely difficult condition to live with not only for the autistic person but for their family and friends as well. By advertising this cute, quirky autism, you are once again, like the autism community has always done since "Aspies for Freedom", leaving out those of us who are most marginalized. And I dare to say that this does not only happen to high support needs, but low needs people too who don't fit the new ASD criteria you have created.

Now, about the chart, the first sentence says: "intense studying of a new favorite topic". Not only is this type of wording extremely vague and could apply to literally anyone, but it's also undermining the intensity and the reality of having a special interest. Having a special interest is time consuming to the point of losing sleep, not using the bathroom, not showering, eating or interacting with others. A special interest itself causes so much self-stimulation that many people end up having meltdowns from overstimulation, a support worker once contacted me for help because their patient was so excited about Doctor Who that they'd talk about it to the point where they'd hyperventilate and trigger a panic attack and even lightheadedness due to lack of oxygen. Well, for myself I have experienced similar symptoms, like when I almost failed high school because all I could think about was this one TV Show I liked? Or when I almost passed out from crying and excitement from seeing Katy Perry at a concert when I was 15? Or when I was taken out of class on my first day of University because I was so excited about the topic we were studying I started making noises and disrupting the class? Or when I triggered a meltdown because I spent the whole day studying this same topic to the point where I overwhelmed myself?

"Not noticing sounds or social signals when focusing on an engrossing task": oh, do you mean when my dad and uncle accidentally mixed two chemicals to clean our pool causing a mild explosion in our backyard and a toxic fog that came into our house and I didn't hear my mom calling for me because I was too focused on a book I was reading? Or do you mean when I was a kid when I would be so focused on lining up my toys or watching the fan that I could literally spend hours and hours without having any other type of interaction which could lead to neurological damage because I wasn't using language and interacting with anyone? Or do you mean when autistic kids are usually so interested in objects that they barely recognize and acknowledge other people, leading to difficulties with development of language, cognitive and motor skills? A lot of autistic kids need to go to speech therapy, ABA or early interventions because we could very easily spend our whole days focused on a task or a toy to the point where we won't interact with anyone, which could lead to serious neurological issues such as completely lack of functional language. Social interaction is key to development of language and other important skills that will improve an autistic person's life, including those who are nonverbal and have very high support needs, and the fact that many autistic people won't acknowledge sounds or people interacting with them when they're focused is dangerous for their physical and mental health. See here the problem of intensity? How this book is shallow and lacks true understanding of ASD? Everybody happens to ignore one or two things if they're focused, doing it constantly to the point where it's dangerous and almost impossible for anyone to interact with the person is ASD.

"Needing to know exactly what to expect before entering an unfamiliar situation": yes, absolutely, every time I have to go to a new doctor my family has to call them beforehand, make sure they can see someone like me, ask them whatever procedures or exams they plan on doing and STILL I have to take extremely strong medication to allow doctors to touch me and for me not to have a meltdown because it's a new situation. Do you know what else? Needing a support worker with me on my very first day at University because the thought of going to this unfamiliar situation was so overwhelming I needed support, and still do every once in a while. Of course this is an extremely healthy behavior and doesn't cause any distress at all. Of course that I will always have people to tell me exactly what's going to happen to lessen my anxiety a little bit but still have a meltdown in the end (irony).

"Sticking to a very rigid schedule and rejecting deviations to that schedule": this wouldn't be a problem in a neurotypical person who can easily adapt to changes and eventual issues that come up in our daily lives. Unfortunately, I hate to say that most autistic people like myself deal with inevitable changes by banging their head against the wall causing themselves a concussion. Good changes? Bad changes? Ugh, it doesn't really matter. "I was finally hired to this job I have been rooting for in a long time", too bad dude, all your schedule will change and the only way you can cope with that is by having multiple meltdowns and eventually needing to be put to bed under the affect of Xanax. "Amanda, your cousin stopped by to make a quick visit", ugh, sorry, I wasn't expecting that pleasant surprise, I unfortunately must have an anger attack and self harm to cope with my feelings. "Amanda, your grandmother died and now your mom is staying home for a week on a grief work-leave", hum, not really on my schedule, will have to spend the next days trying to not sound like a dick to my mom because she disrupted my routine and I am having many conflicting feelings while she is dealing with the death of her mother. "Amanda, you have to come home right now because your grandfather just died and we have to travel for his funeral", ugh absolutely normal and healthy behavior to have a full blown meltdown in the Uni hallway because I wasn't planning my granddad's death and needing to be helped by a Professor who then called 911 because she didn't know what to do with me.

"Spending hours or days alone sleeping and recharging after a socially demanding event or stressful project": clear example of trivializing ASD. For most autistic people, even for people who have low support needs, socially demanding events cause episodes of mutism, inability to do any task at all, inability to shower, eat, take care of themselves, work. Autistic people aren't just chilling on their couch watching TV after a social interaction. Autistic people are laying in bed, feeling sick, having symptoms such as fever and panic attacks, feeling overwhelmed. I would argue this applies mostly to low needs people because for people like myself and other higher support needs people I know and live with, social events are not even a possibility in the first place.

"Needing 'all the information' before coming to a decision": this one absolutely pisses me off. When I need to make a decision I do need all the information, but not only the information available, I really need ALL the information that I WANT, regardless of whether it makes sense or not, such as wanting to know what will happen if X is chosen, but how will you know for sure something about the future? And no, I cannot let it go, autism causes something called cognitive rigidity, which makes every thought and feeling get stuck in an eternal loop which we are mostly unable to stop. On my second year of University I had to make a decision to follow a degree in Hebrew or Linguistics. I needed all the information. But the information that I needed was "how will I do on the linguistics tests if I choose this degree?" and "how will I be able to complete all the Literature courses on the Hebrew degree if I have a hard time with reading and comprehension?". This was one of the hardest times in my life when I got stuck in thoughts to which there were no answers for and this caused me extreme anxiety and distress.

"Not knowing how they feel or needing a few days to figure out how they feel about something": this is the number one reason to why I will bang my head against the wall. Not knowing how I feel, not understanding how I feel is an extremely distressing experience if not to say dangerous. Many autistic people don't notice serious illness and symptoms because they just don't understand that whatever they are feeling is normal. Luckily, I have had fewer experiences with that, but I know people whose appendix were bursting and they thought it was just a stomach ache. Last week I got up feeling weird. I didn't understand what it was, I thought it was anxiety. I went to my therapy appointment and came out still feeling a little bit off. I get home and vomit for 10 minutes straight in the bathroom and proceeded to have one of the worst food poisoning I've ever had. I had to be taught what feeling happy was, I had to be taught what feeling sad was. I have to be taught how to comprehend simple human emotions and how to understand them in my body because I simply cannot understand them. I am 22 years old. This is not healthy, this is not normal. This causes extreme distress, this is dangerous. And at least I can communicate to some extent how I'm feeling but there are family friends whose kids' are completely nonverbal with very little functional language. Whenever something changes in their mood, they have to be taken to the hospital to make sure it's nothing physical because they cannot communicate or comprehend their emotions.

"Needing a rule or instruction to 'make sense' before they can follow it": again, cute and quirky if you're an adult and the only situation you can think about this is things like "ugh, why would I treat my boss any different just because of a made up hierarchy?", not so fun when it's an adult person who cannot understand danger and thinks that riding the car with the seatbelt doesn't make sense. Not so fun when it's a 30 year-old man who doesn't understand what the police is and might act improperly around them, risking his life. Not so fun when it's a 12 year-old kid who doesn't understand death and thinks that playing "killing his sister" (by choking her) is fun. These are all real people I've met in my life.

"Not putting energy toward expectations that seem unfair or arbitrary": again, quirky if you're an autistic woman who doesn't see a point in make up, not so quirky when these things are like me, who sees exercising as totally pointless and I could very much spend the rest of my days not doing absolutely anything to move my body. Not so quirky when the expectations are actually adult people who don't understand the need to shower or personal hygiene.

I think I have made it a bit clearer with my examples how incredibly romanticizing this book is. It's a shame that so many people see this as some kind of autism bible when it's a book made by someone who we don't even know if is truly diagnosed with autism, with an extremely shallow understanding of ASD and complete disregard to the impairing nature of ASD. As I said before, ASD is inherently a condition that causes deficits and impairments and people who – most of the time aren't even diagnosed – don't get to redefine and trivialize the reality of living with autism, specially with someone with higher support needs. We can talk about different experiences of autism, we can talk about differences between high and low support needs, but we need to do it carefully in order to not trivialize what ASD really is – which is exactly the opposite of what this book does.

[prettycalla]

Hihi came across your post and am interested in the matchmaker!

To give a little info on me,

I'm a horrendous procrastinater and can get distracted so easily sometimes but when I have to concentrate I *can* knuckle down.

I do like art, particularly painting things on stones and pebbles, so my match would be getting loads of pet rocks with random stuff painted on it (id paint them things they like ofc but can't promise they wouldn't get a random painting of a shoe or something one day for the shits and gigs). I also love watching the F1! (Can't drive myself though, that's not for lack of trying to pass the bloody test)

I've got several face piercings and tattoos, and two tone hair, (why settle for one?)

I'm one of those who's funny without always actually trying to be, I do chat some serious shite sometimes though. I do love to make people laugh and am quite good with accents (answering spam calls with a Scottish accent when I'm not Scottish for one)

I can be quite grumpy at times especially in a morning (don't talk to me before 10am unless you want to *die*) but then can switch in an instant and be happy again, it depends lol

Im would need my partner to be interesting, so we can have fun and enjoy ourselves with whatever it is we get up to/have something distinctive about them I think that keeps drawing me back, & they find me interesting in return, (Im a Gemini your probably not surprised after reading this)

Pets: I have a cat that I love very dearly! (She has her own insta and cat sunglasses too cause she's a bad bitch like that)

Once when I was very mentally unwell I had a pet onion called frank, (I'm not in that era anymore) he lived on my cooker and I refused to cook him because he was a member of our household (he went mouldy eventually so that was that) but I would like a tarantula!

Films that I like: I love a horror film, slashers and scary ones and historical ones!

I love music, and to dance! I can do the splits and would do so to the most absurd music in slow mo for added affect. I read tarot so can give my match guidance and insight if they need it!

I can be a silly little soul but can actually be serious when its needed, and when my match needs me I'm there for them, with humour, or with support, snacks or in whatever way they might need it. They need to be prepared for lots of laughs (either with me or at me or us laughing at something else it's all good)

God there's a lot of text here I'm so sorry! 😂 My poor match lol they better be accepting of a pet cabbage if I feel so inclined

I think you and Caracalla would be a good match!

Caracalla would love your spontaneity and creative streak. He often struggles with the numbing, all-consuming irritation that boredom brings, but he would certainly find himself entertained by you.

There are many words that could describe him, but dull is not one of them, and you would surely find yourself engrossed in his many stories and adventures. Being a twin, Gemini would be a good astrological match for him too, as they are known for their adaptability in social situations and imaginative nature, and these are definitely traits that would be helpful to have in the company of a wild card like Caracalla.

He isn't a morning person himself, and conversation with him is little more than grunting for the first hour or so until he finally wakes up. If you can learn to understand him, you would quickly develop your own secret language with him.

He would love that you have accessories for your cat, and would proudly show you all of Dondus' little outfits. (If social media had existed back then, Caracalla absolutely would have had an Instagram page for Dondus.)

The two of you together would often be chaos, and Caracalla would adore every minute of it.

Gladiator Matchmaker

[paruvlv]

The Woman Men Adore and Never Want To Leave

 Opening the Doors: The Real Reasons Behind a Man's Heart Race. 

Knowing what genuinely captures a man's heart in the complicated realm of relationships may be a perplexing path. Many women may have been left feeling bewildered and dissatisfied by the conventional wisdom to be less sentimental and more accepting. This essay will examine the subtleties of male psychology and provide advice on how to become a lady that men admire and would never want to leave.

Cracking the Code of "Quit Being So Emotional" Title: Revealing the Mysteries of Men's Expectations:-  

Ever had someone tell you to "quit being so emotional"? It's a typical phrase that confuses a lot of women. In actuality, this claim frequently masks a male unconscious need for destruction—a desire that satisfies itself when you actively try to win his approval. This piece will examine the real meaning behind men's requests for you to control your emotions and how realizing this might improve your relationships. 

Though it may sound extreme, comparing a man's destructive impulse to a vampire draining a young woman of her life illuminates potentially dangerous marital dynamics. By going a little further, we'll learn why some men express a need for continual accommodation, even if it might not be optimal for a happy, fulfilling relationship.  

Though it may sound extreme, comparing a man's destructive impulse to a vampire draining a young woman of her life illuminates potentially dangerous marital dynamics. By going a little further, we'll learn why some men express a need for continual accommodation, even if it might not be optimal for a happy, fulfilling relationship.

Love and Anger: Handling Emotional Upheaval:-

Dispelling the Myth That Men Are Driven Away by Anger:-

The Woman Men Adore and Never Want To Leave:-

Dispelling the Myth of Unending Giving: The Dynamics of Love through Giving and Receiving:- 

There is a widespread misconception that a man will love you more deeply the more you give to him. This section of the essay will refute this idea and highlight the significance of reciprocity in interpersonal interactions. Learn how to build a foundation for enduring love and connection through setting healthy boundaries and practicing mutual giving. 

For more information, you can type your Comments:-

A more meaningful and genuine connection can be achieved in the complex dance of relationships by having an understanding of the subtle desires of men. Women can empower themselves to become the partners that men adore and never want to leave by delving into the meaning behind phrases like "quit being so emotional" and questioning common beliefs. Recall that building enduring relationships requires finding a balance, remaining true to yourself, and encouraging understanding of one another. 

In the grand narrative of accomplishment, it is common to find a sincere admission that the journey wouldn't be as meaningful in the absence of a loved one's support and company. The line, "To This Day He Admits That All of His Success Would Mean Nothing Without Her by His Side," perfectly captures this feeling. Let's examine the great importance of having a supportive partner and how it can affect one's career and personal development.

Achievement is Not a Solo Expedition—It's a Journey:

It is easy to become engrossed in the idea of individual victories when pursuing our objectives and dreams. But in actuality, achieving success is rarely a solitary endeavor. Every successful person has a pillar of support behind them, and in this case, that support is their committed partner. The admission that sharing success with a loved one makes it more meaningful says a lot about the depth of human connection.

The Influence of Emotional Help:

Success is about more than just accomplishments and recognition; it's also about the emotional satisfaction that goes along with it. A partner by your side offers a special kind of support that transcends the work environment. When you succeed, they rejoice with you. 

A significant reality about the nature of success is captured in the quote "To This Day He Admits That All of His Success Would Mean Nothing Without Her by His Side." It's an acknowledgment of the immeasurable value of having a supportive partner that goes beyond personal achievements. Let's treasure and honor those who support us through life's challenges, adding depth to our path and transforming achievement into an incredibly fulfilling experience.

The Essential Feeling Men Require to Fall in Love"

Emotions are important in the context of relationships and love. Admiration is the one essential feeling that consistently emerges when it comes to men falling in love. The key component that lays the groundwork for a strong and enduring bond is admiration.

A man experiences more than just fondness when he feels appreciated. The sincere acknowledgment and appreciation of someone's attributes, accomplishments, and character is known as admiration. It's about appreciating the special qualities and strengths that define him as an individual.

For more information, you can type your Comments:-

In a man's heart, admiration ignites a feeling of significance and validation. It complements respect in a way that is very potent and fosters a close emotional connection. A deep connection that transcends the surface arises when a man senses that you genuinely admire him. Being admired does not entail elevating someone above others or overlooking their shortcomings. It all comes down to appreciating the uniqueness and value of the person you are with. An environment of positivity and affirmation is created by this recognition of his worth, both in terms of his character and accomplishments.

To put it simply, admiration is the key that unlocks a man's heart. It creates a link that enables love to develop and thrive. Thus, if you're wondering how to get a man to fall in love, never underestimate the power of admiration. It's a straightforward yet profound feeling that can turn a relationship into something truly exceptional.

The Woman Men Adore and Never Want To Leave:-

For more information, you can type your Comments:-

[beachesgetpeaches]

if you are a swiftie (or anyone really) who has criticised matty and you are now applauding azeali a bnks for her clout posting really

the hypocrisy really does drip through and it spreads like wildfire

[semipyrrhicalsys]

Why do so many sysmeds seem to base their whole identities around the concept of pain and suffering?

One of the most common arguments we see amongst anti-endos is the idea that endos and their supporters promote this fantasy where DID/OSDD is all fun and happy. Anti-endos claim that we downplay the difficult parts of having a dissociative disorder (fragmented memory, PTSD, an altered or incomplete sense of self, etc).

But here's the thing..... endos aren't actually saying that.

Having DID/OSDD is hard, especially when you don't have access to the proper support. Nobody is denying that fact. But what's so bad about the people who have these disorders choosing to seek out the positives instead of being miserable all the time?

Anti-endos will even attack other traumagenic systems for not having the same mindset. To us, it almost feels like the people who make this argument are jealous that other plurals with DID/OSDD don't let their suffering dictate their sense of self. In fact, it even feels like these people don't even want to heal or seek help. They've become so engrossed in their misery that they can't possibly fathom the idea that others aren't also suffering 24/7. When you build your whole identity around your pain and misery, seeing anyone who doesn't think and act that way is going to make you angry and upset.

It's so incredibly easy to fall down a rabbit hole of thoughts when all you can think about is how miserable you are. That's why so many people struggle to get out of depression; it eventually becomes second nature for your brain to adopt a negative thinking pattern, and changing your thought process is unbelievably hard. This is especially true with people who have suffered abuse and/or trauma, because of the way these things impact them mentally and emotionally.

And maybe this is why so many anti-endos make the argument that our community downplays the negative aspects of having DID/OSDD. They see the plurals who have these disorders and seemingly aren't constantly suffering, and they get defensive because how DARE these systems who have the same disorder as them not be in misery all day, every day? How DARE these systems make the decision to accept the good and bad things that come with their disorders. How DARE people choose to not let their suffering define who they are.

- Blu

[thefanficmonster]

Idk if this is too much? Carmy having a crush and finding out or trying to help you with an eating disorder?

TW - ED talk below the cut

Hi dear, no worries, this is perfectly ok. I have been dealing with an eating disorder for three years now and I feel like being able to finally honestly express it via my fics will be therapeutic for me. Hope you enjoy these headcanons💕

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader (Gender Neutral) [The Bear]

Warnings: Discussions and Symptoms of an ED as well as the healing process, Swearing, Mentions of Anxiety

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Comfort Fluff, Angst

Summary: see request above

Now that he's staring at undoubtable proof, running the reel of the last few months in his brain reveals there were many more hints he should've picked up on

The endless busying, all the declined invitations to go have dinner with the staff of The Bear, recipes you didn't want to try when he asked you for an opinion

He skipped out on the group dinner last night, opting to bring sandwiches home so the two of you can enjoy them together and finally spend some quality time with one another

A proper conversation hadn't been had in a while - you went over serious subjects like the bills and rent, the paychecks he has to give his staff, the paycheck you still haven't received etc.

Both of you had been so engrossed in the chatter, Carmy didn't think twice of it when you'd proclaimed you'd hit the hay and excused yourself to wash your plate while he finished his sandwich

Ten minutes later, he went to wash his own plate, but when he went to throw the napkin in the bin, amidst a pile of napkins and receipts peeked out the practically whole sandwich he'd thought you had eaten

For a moment he wonders if the sandwich was the problem

And then he issues an investigation

He checks the box of cereal only you eat in the mornings - unopened despite it being bought a week prior

Unopened milk carton

A full pack of eggs, once again purchased a while ago

His question was semi-answered, but the last thing he wanted to do was jump to conclusions

So he called Sydney to tell her he'd be a bit late the next day

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mumbling to yourself as you enter the living room, dressed and ready for work, you yelp when you see a figure sat on the couch, looking at you

"Damn it, Carmy, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?" You question, a hand coming up to rest on your chest, feeling it race under your palm

Your boyfriend shrugs, "We always miss each other in the mornings, so I thought I'd change that. Made us breakfast and all."

He sees something in your expression wilt, but he has not time to dwell on it because your words certainly back it up

"I gotta get to work, I don't wanna be late, my boss will screech his lungs out." You barely give him a moment to process your response before bypassing him to the foyer

"You have to eat, Y/N. That asshole be damned." He protests, following you in the hall

"I'll grab something along the way."

"I know you won't." His tone coupled with his words send a chill down your spine, stopping you in the process of putting on your shoes

He's noticed

"I didn't want you to worry." He rolls his eyes at your words, sipping his coffee

"I always worry." You'd negotiated you'll only have one pancake and a cup of coffee

He didn't argue which was a relief

"I know, thanks mom."

The easy conversation you'd used to distract him from your avoidance of the food last night is now used on you

Because when he slips another pancake on your plate, you don't complain, engrossed in gossiping about your coworkers

There's a long way to go into being able to accept yourself and feed your body the way it deserves without the need for a distraction

But with a support system such as Carmy, you're given the comfort it'll be at least a bit easier to bear emotionally and physically

[newmih]

Kiss cam

Words: 582

Characters: Dick Grayson x reader, Tim Drake, Damien Wayne

Summary: Events take a different turn than usual, not that Dick is unhappy about it. Imagine any version of the characters, as usual.

A/N: I'm not sure what to make of it. No rereading! /English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistake I made./ /Picture is not mine!/

Masterlist

Bonne lecture

You were too engrossed in what was happening on the court to even notice the big screen above your head. When Dick had asked you to go to your brother's basketball game with him, you'd accepted right away. You'd been friends for a long time and there was no way the two of you couldn't go. Plus, he wanted to support his friend.

He leaned into your ear to try to tell you something, but you didn't have time to hear what he said. Your attention had shifted directly when you saw your face in the middle of the gym. It took you a few seconds to realize it before you blushed violently and hid your face in your hands.

You'd been showing up at games with Dick for years and this had never happened. The man next to you laughed inwardly at your reaction before finally giving the cameras a negative wave. There was no way he was going to kiss you for the very first time in front of hundreds of people for the kiss cam.

The crowd started booing you but not insisting, the cameraman turned his attention away from you two. You were mortified and hoped it wouldn't happen again. If you had nothing against the fact of kissing the former Robin who you had no shame to admit was very attractive, the fact of doing it in front of so many people still made you step back.

Finally, you refocused on what was happening on the field, without even glancing at Dick. His quick dismissal had actually hurt you a little.

[...]

Obviously, whoever was manning the camera had decided not to let go of you until you made out. Everyone had seen Dick eat ungraciously several times and even seen you choke on your drink.

No matter what ways you refused, you kept coming back to the center screen. This game was clearly a lot of fun for the spectators, who were almost screaming more for the two of you than for the players. Finally, Dick grunted after seeing his face for the umpteenth time in the center of the room and turned to you, not thinking for a second.

"Oh for goodness sake!" You didn't hear him swear like that often, so you dared the shoulders and was about to make a comment when you felt his hand grab onto your neck and pull you closer to him. Too shocked to even understand what was going on, he kissed you and you let him. And boy, he was a good kisser.

The crowd cheered loudly, finally happy to have gotten what they wanted. You finally pushed the dark-haired guy away, after having regained some semblance of your senses, and watched him return his attention to the game as if nothing had happened.

You spent the rest of the game staring into the void in silence, still trying to realize. Finally, the last whistle blew and after many long minutes of trying to make your way through the herd of humans and occasionally getting a whistle or a pat on the back, you found yourself outside with Dick. He was smiling, obviously happy with the turn of events, even if a question was running through his head.

"I wonder why the camera was only coming back to us."

[...]

Across the gym, Tim, accompanied by Damian, pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and slammed it into the cameraman's hand, a smile on his face.