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#the speech is only about 16 minutes
tloaak · 7 months
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today we lost the great Efeso Collins, during a charity event to raise funds for clean drinking water for children in the pacific. here is his incredible parliamentary maiden speech from just last week (transcript below). i encourage you to listen, and if you can, donate to childfund's water fund here
Tēnā koe, Mr Speaker. Mai i ngā hau o Ōtāhuhu-nui-a-Rangi, o Maungarei, o Motukaroa; mai i ngā awa o Hikuwaru, o Tāmaki e rere ki te Waitematā, kei te Mānukanuka-o-Hoturoa, ko Kaiwhare, ko Taramainuku kua tau, kua tau ki ngā whenua o Ngāti Toa Rangatira, o Taranaki Whānui ki Te Ūpoko o Te Ika. Tēnā anō tatou.
[From the winds of Ōtāhuhu, of Mount Wellington, of Hamlin's Hill; from the rivers of Hikuwaru, of Tāmaki flowing to the Waitematā, to the Mānukau Harbour; Kaiwhare and Taramainuku have arrived, have arrived to the lands of Ngāti Toa Rangatira, of Taranaki Whānui in the Wellington region. Greetings to us all.]
E fakatālofa atu ki te māmālu o koutou na tamāna ma na mātua, vena foki na uho ma tuafāfine kua mafai ke fakatahi i te po nei. Vikia te Atua ko tātou kua mafai ke fakatahi venei. Mālo ma fakafetai.
Fai mai ina ua teʻi ae Iakopo i le mea sa moe ai, ona ia fai ane lea, e moni lava e i ai Ieova i le mea nei. E moni lava e i ai Ieova i le mea nei. Faafetai le Atua aua e le faaitiitia lou viiga. Ua ifo i ati malie tuʻumoega o le taeao le sa tafa i vanu tafaoga o manu sisina, ae sa faalepa le au pea, sa fili ma le manoa le fetu taʻimatagi, ae sei faalaolao le puli matagi aua ua nofoia vao tutuʻi i le malumalu ma nuʻu malumau o le maota.
Ou te le fagota la i le sao aua ua uma ona fili le utu ma uu le vao fofou. Fai mai le matematega nai tumua, ua pei o se iʻa e moemauga o le atuolo, o foliga matagofie ia ma le maualuga, maualuga lava o lenei aso aisea, ae a lea ua malutaueʻe le tiʻa sa maluʻia, ua tapu lalaga foʻi le vaʻa o le Tuimanʻua mamana ua atoa laʻau i fogaʻa.
Faafetai le Atua le Tama, le Alo ma le Agaga Sa, aua sa tu i Fagalilo tapaau o le alataua, ae sa matemate foʻi aiga sa Tagaloa pe tua ma ni a lenei aso. Ae faafetai i le Atua, aua ua tepa i ula, tagaʻi i ula, foʻi atu lou viiga e faavavau. Faafetai i le tapuaʻiga a oʻu matua ma oʻu aiga, faafetai tele i matua o si oʻu toʻalua ma ona aiga, i le latou lagolago aemaise talosaga molia. Faafetai i uo ma e masani, aemaise o le paʻia o le aufaigaluega totofi a le Atua, i soʻo se fata faitaulaga—Faafetai tatalo. Ae faapitoaugafa saʻu faafetai i si oʻu toalua Finevasa Fia aemaise si aʻu fanau pele Tapuiela ma Asalemo faafetai tatalo, malo le onosaʻi. Ae tapuaʻi maia ma le manuia.
Mr Speaker, it is an indescribable feeling to stand up and address this House. As a son of Samoan immigrants who made the mighty Ōtara 274—Southside hard—their home, I am well aware of the giants whose shoulders I stand on and the masters whose feet I learnt at. The courage, foresight, entrepreneurial spirit, and hope of our ancestors who journeyed thousands of years ago through the vast waters of Te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa brings me here today.
My parents arrived in New Zealand in the early 1960s, told that this was the land of milk and honey. Dad started off as a taxi driver with South Auckland Taxis, and mum on the factory floor at New Zealand Forest Products in Penrose. We lived in a four-bedroom State house on Preston Road in Ōtara, and I attended local schools: East Tāmaki Primary, Ferguson Intermediate, and the great Tangaroa College. We're forever grateful for the State house that was our home for around 20 years, and the quality public education we received from our local State schools.
I did try my hand for a short period at a decile 10 school outside of Ōtara, but that experiment lasted only two weeks. It was during the time in the late 1980s, when families from poorer areas were being discouraged from going to local schools because they weren't considered up to scratch. I'm glad we changed course and decided to high school it in Ōtara, where the motto of our school was "Waiho i te tokā tu Moana"—"Steadfast like a rock in the sea".
Later, at university, I went on to write my Master's dissertation on brown flight, critiquing the Picot reforms that have wreaked havoc on our public schooling system. That period was also a challenging time for my family because we were being told by our teachers to stop speaking Samoan at home and only to speak English. My parents didn't want us to fail at school, so we were allowed to speak English at home and over time we stopped speaking Samoan altogether. In the end, I lost my language. I struggled, I was embarrassed, and I felt incomplete. Even speaking to you in Samoan this evening gives me major tremors.
There's a saying in Samoan: "E le tu fa'amauga se tagata"—no one stands alone, no one succeeds alone—and, for me, no one suffers alone. Over the past years, with the support of my family and friends, I've taken to trying to converse again in Samoan, reading more texts in Samoan, praying in Samoan, and sending our youngest to a local Samoan early childhood centre. Our beautiful language, Gagana Samoa, has returned to our home and is helping to overcome the inadequacy that had taken root in my soul.
As I speak this evening, I'm mindful of the many young people who are navigating these at times treacherous and unsettled waters in life, filled with so much potential, energy, and hope, yet too often misunderstood. In my time as a youth worker in South Auckland, I've spoken with hundreds of young people with massive dreams for the future. We need youth workers, we need social workers, and we need mentors to walk alongside our young people, and, yes, we want our youth to be responsible and caring and considerate. So it's our job in this House to resource the people and organisations who will model the behaviour to them that we expect, but who also won't give up on them and won't come with a saviour mentality.
Many of our societal challenges are driven by poverty. We can achieve greater social cohesion and lift our sense of belonging by addressing poverty. I've been honoured to run youth mentoring programmes for nearly 25 years—that's about how old I am—and to this day I mentor young people. When we undertook and published research on youth gangs some years ago, the youth we spoke to had the solutions and just needed the means to make it happen. Too many of our young people are filling our prisons, and it is wasted human potential. Give them the tools, the resources, and the means to make a meaningful contribution to the world, and they will. I was at a conference recently about the threats to democracy and an attendee spoke about their work in developing nations and used the familiar retort, "You can't eat democracy." And I couldn't agree more. This House, this centre of democracy, needs to do more to engage our people, all of our people, so that they can see this House is not just relevant but an essential part of their lives.
The greatest challenge facing our generation is climate change. The Pacific Islands nations are among the most vulnerable to climate change in the world. The world's continued reliance on fossil fuels, loss of coral reefs, rising sea levels, and increasing severe weather patterns means that our extended whānau in the Pacific are in immediate danger. We, as a collective, must do all we can to do as we say out south "flip the script". Truth is, those who've done the least to create this predicament are being the hardest hit. Our challenges, whether ecological, geopolitical, or cultural, are diverse, but we're bonded by the inextricable ties we have to our lands and our oceans. We've inherited philosophies, knowledge systems, and profound ecological wisdom that holds the answers and drives our collective resilience—from West Papua to Hawai'i. Our fight for a climate resilient, nuclear-free and independent Pacific remains as strong as ever. We are not drowning; we are fighting.
I haven't come to Parliament to learn—learning happens as a matter of course through reflection. I've come to this House to help. Helping is a deliberate act. I'm here to help this Government govern for all of New Zealand, and I'm here to open the door, enabling our communities to connect better with this House. During the election campaign, I spoke to people frustrated about their lot in life, scared for their and their children's futures, and feeling their dreams were slipping away. The people I spoke to expect the Government to do more and move faster. And I know that there are some in this House who believe Government is not the answer to these challenges and that less Government is better. But here's the thing: the Government cannot be a bystander to people suffering confusion and disenfranchisement. New Zealand must close the divide between those who have and those who have not, because the reality for my community is that those who have more money often wield more power, more health, more housing, more justice, more access, more canopy cover, more lobbyists with swipe cards, and more time. And the opposite is true for those who have fewer resources.
It's hard to be poor, it's expensive to be poor, and moreover, public discourse is making it socially unacceptable to be poor. Whether it's bashing on beneficiaries, dragging our feet towards a living wage, throwing shade on school breakfast programmes, or restricting people's ability to collectively bargain for fairer working conditions, we must do better to lift aspirations and the lived realities of all our people. To that end, I want to say to this House with complete surety that the neoliberal experiment of the 1980s has failed. The economics of creating unemployment to manage inflation is farcical when domestic inflation in New Zealand has been driven by big corporates making excessive profits. It's time to draw a line in the sand, and alongside my colleagues here in Te Pāti Kākāriki, we've come as the pallbearers of neoliberalism, to bury these shallow, insufferable ideas once and for all. And this, sir, is our act of love.
Paolo Freire, in his seminal work Pedagogy of the Oppressed, said love is an act of courage, not fear; love is a commitment to others. No matter where the oppressed are found, the act of love is a commitment to their cause, the cause of liberation. The most recent election campaign left many in our Māori communities bruised and targeted for the perceived privileges supposedly bestowed upon them. Shared governance is a rich concept about how we include those who've been excluded for far too long in the work of this House and the democratic institutions that are fundamental to our collective wellbeing. We are Tangata Tiriti and we have nothing to fear. As a New Zealand-born Samoan living in South Auckland, I've experienced, written about, and spoken about racism in this country. I've also been on a well-publicised journey in understanding the needs and views of our rainbow communities, and I have a long way to go. And my message to whānau who often experience the sharp end of discrimination—disabled, ethnic, rainbow, brown, seniors, and neurodiverse—is thank you for trusting us with the responsibility of facilitating a new discussion on how we move forward together and make possible what was once deemed impossible.
The American civil rights activist James Baldwin said, "Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced." We commit to working across this House as a nation and with each other irrespective of our post code, income bracket, skin colour, or level of qualification attained. But, in order for that work, we must come with humility, the desire to listen, and dare I say it, maybe speaking last. If I was to inspire anyone by getting to this House and my work over the next three years, I hope that it's the square pegs, the misfits, the forgotten, the unloved, the invisible—it's the dreamers who want more, expect more, are impatient for change, and have this uncanny ability to stretch us further.
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hum--hallelujah · 1 year
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don't want to kill time like it doesn't matter - 3.5k words, (platonic) funkobra hurt/comfort
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Ghoul is actually younger than Kobra. They always forget it though.
At least, they usually do.
Kobra's stopped shooting upright and reaching for his blaster whenever someone wakes him up at night. Stopped two years ago, honestly, when him and Ghoul started sharing a room. That was a collective decision that is very much not discussed. It left the old office as a perfect room for the Girl, in the end. Between Ghoulie and Girlie, the former of whom has wild, sleepless tendencies and the latter liking to scramble her way into bed with somebody else every other night of the week, Kobra's knee-jerk reaction has become more of a lack of reaction.
"Yo," hisses a pitchy voice. It's dead daylight, the heat of the day. This is the time of the year when you sleep while the sun's up, wait until the darkness falls to do anything or else it's too miserable or too dangerous. "Kobes."
Kobra utters a verbose "Hrrmngg?" and rolls over. He cracks an eye open to see Ghoul standing at the end of his bed. If it hadn't been light out, he'd be doing a good job of living up to his name. His hands are shaking, but when aren't they?
"You good, man?" Kobra asks groggily. He's half awake, half asleep, drifting in between the two states of being. Ghoul is shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. It makes the floor creak. It makes him look even smaller than he is. "Ghoulie?" He mumbles again when he gets no reply.
Ghoul makes a noncommittal half-whispered sound. "Wanna go for a joyride?" He asks instead of an answer.
Kobra blinks himself more fully awake and pushes up on one elbow. "Mirage or the 'Am?"
Ghoulie shrugs. Won't meet his eyes. Oh shit, that's not good. Something's got him worked up. It's too late for this. This is why they share a room now. They didn't used to, but Kobra refuses to let him sleep alone anymore. Kobra knows how he got that wicked scar that runs from the corner of his mouth nearly to his eye.
"Either," Ghoul says. "Doesn't matter much to me."
"Mirage," Kobra decides. He'll never say no to a late-night joyride. Not this kind. Party'll have his neck for sneaking out on the bike without letting anyone know, but the 'Am is too conspicuous when strange crews are out and from the look of him, riding double on the motorcycle will be good for Ghoul.
It's still too hot to be out. But going for a spin won't take too much exertion, getting to someplace with shade, so long as it's away from here, won't take too long. Ghoul's gonna get sunscorched. Maybe that's the point. While Kobra covers up with his jacket, Ghoul is still in the loose, half-covering clothes he sleeps in.
The sun glints painfully off the sand when they climb quietly out the window. No reason trying to get past Party when they've got an exit right here. Ghoul clambers out first with a probably accidental but surprisingly graceful roll and then flinches, violently, when Kobra jacket catches on what's left of the glass in the window and he tumbles haphazardly to the ground. They both hold still for a long dozen seconds, Kobra staring at the diner wall and straining to tell if anyone heard them, and Ghoul staring at Kobra and shaking.
When Party doesn't come along, eyes glinting with annoyed amusement, and yell at them for sneaking out, Kobra sits up and checks the hem of his jacket where it caught on the sharp edge. "Great," he mutters when he sees the tear in the lining. He'll have to sew that back together later. "Ghoul, you good?"
Ghoul shrugs and stands up. "Aren't I always?"
"No."
They stare at each other for a few seconds while Kobra rubs his palms together to clear the sand off them and reaches into his pocket for his gloves. "You're wearing a helmet," he says flatly.
Ghoul rolls his eyes and sneers. It crinkles the scar running up his face. "No way."
"Fine." Kobra doesn't push. Half the time he doesn't even wear his helmet. He's the driver. He'll keep them safe. It was worth a try, though. "Come on."
The heavy bay door of the garage makes too much noise to open without being caught. They slip in the side door and Kobra brings Mirage carefully back through it. He wears a helmet this time. Ghoul stands and waits, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet, while Kobra starts the bike and, out of habit, does a couple checks.
"You ready?" Kobra says, with the visor of his helmet flipped up.
Ghoul grins, but it's lacking in heart. So often, Kobra thinks he's not all there. So often, Kobra thinks this is his best friend. "Born that way," he replies.
"Come on then," Kobra says and nods for Ghoul to get on the bike with him. "Hey, hey. Hey, Ghoulie-" he says, when Ghoul is standing right at his shoulder, about to throw a leg over Mirage and climb on. "You okay?" He asks again, because he needs to know how safe any of this is.
Ghoul doesn't respond. Just settles himself behind Kobra and wraps his arms, tight, around Kobra's middle. Kobra stays there a second, until he's sure Ghoul's grip is solid, so that he can feel Ghoul breathing against his back, before he kicks off. He doesn't care if Party and Jet wake up now, they won't catch them. The bike's tires kick up a fountain of sand as he spins a loop, leaning into the turn until Mirage tilts close enough to the ground that Kobra could touch the sand if he reached out. Ghoul asked for a joyride. This is that.
"What the hell, man?!" Ghoul yells over Kobra's shoulder, muffled by the engine noise and his helmet. Kobra feels Ghoul's hands grab at the fabric of his shirt as he pulls around the first turn, bringing them around the back of a sand dune at full speed.
"Trust me?" Kobra shouts back. He's getting into it now, relaxing into each wide, showy swerve and fishtail. He slows down just a bit when he can feel Ghoul's fingernails start to bite into his skin. It makes him edgy when Ghoul is like this.
Ghoul sniffs sharply. "Well, yeah, but I've seen you crash out enough times at the track-"
"Aw, shut up," Kobra snaps back, without venom. Ghoul's his mechanic. He's seen his best wins and worst losses. "Where you wanna go?" He asks, after a few random turns, just drifting around in the sand. Ghoul is quiet. Kobra reaches back with one hand and smacks him on the leg after awhile. "Ghoulie, where we goin'?"
"I'm thinki-" Ghoul cuts himself off and when he speaks again his voice is flat and so quiet Kobra has to strain to hear him. "Turn right up here."
There's the remains of a road cutting across their path and Kobra hops Mirage up onto it, swings right and follows the pavement. Ghoul's grip around his chest has loosened, but Kobra can feel the fast, shallow rhythm of his breathing and the shaking of his hands even still. The road goes on for ages, long enough that it starts to feel infinite. This must have been a highway, back before the wars and BL/ind. At some point, Ghoul leans forward and puts his forehead against the back of Kobra's neck. Kobra can feel him pressed just below where his helmet sits.
"Get off at this turn," Ghoul mumbles suddenly, but not soon enough because Kobra completely overshoots the exit. He flips around the empty lanes of the highway, admittedly showing off mostly just to make himself feel better.
The group of buildings along the former highway off-ramp isn't really a ghost town. It's a cluster of old stores and restaurants, like the diner but mass produced, and down at the end is an ancient truck stop and gas station. Kobra slows the bike to a crawl as they drive down the street, struck with an eerie sense of deja vu. He's been here before. They both have.
He pulls over and stops in the middle of the road, beside what used to be a coffee store. Coffee is usually made in the form of compressed, dried out shots now, called Motor Juice in the Zones when rehydrated. They don't have coffeeshops in the City. They have prescriptions.
Ghoul is off the bike and Kobra's back suddenly cold even under the heat of the sun before Mirage even comes to a full stop. "Ghoul-" Kobra snaps, angry for reasons he can't even say and unsettled in ways he doesn't want to. This is a ghost town. Just not in the normal way. "Ghoul. What are you-"
But Ghoul is walking away, his back to Kobra and the bike as he moves toward the gas station as if it's a magnet and he's the blade of a knife, trembling so hard with the pull that it might break. Kobra hesitates, then swings his leg over Mirage and bumps out the kickstand. Ghoul is standing stock still, or as still as he can, on the faded pavement of the gas station parking lot. Kobra's glad it's faded. He doesn't want to see the bloodstains.
Ghoul looks small as he approaches, absolutely miniscule. He's got his arms wrapped tight around himself and Kobra can hear the harshness of his breathing even from several strides away. He doesn't want to get too close too fast. Ghoul's enough like a wild animal that it could turn out badly, and Kobra for once really doesn't want to fight him today. Not out here, at least.
They're within two years of each other, Kobra and Ghoul. They usually forget they're not the same age. But right now Ghoul looks so small and so, so young and Kobra doesn't know what to do.
"Gh- Ghoul. Ghoulie." Kobra calls carefully, stumbling over his tongue. He clamps his teeth together, takes a deep breath. "Ghoul."
Ghoul doesn't turn, doesn't look away from the door into the gas station he'd been found in, back when Kobra and Poison and Jet were a crew of three and Ghoul'd been even more feral than he is now. The gas station where Ghoul watched his entire family die and he was helpless to do anything about it. He still thinks he hadn't done enough. Kobra knows that. Ghoul always thinks he didn't do enough. That one kid with a blaster and wild eyes could take down a full squad of Dracs and two Crows.
Kobra doesn't know how to tell him that if he'd tried, he would be dead too. Kobra doesn't know how to tell him he's glad he didn't. When it comes down to it most, Kobra finds he can't speak.
"Ghoulie," he says again. "Hey. Hey." He moves closer, pulls off the helmet he'd almost forgotten he still has on. "Ghoul," he tries, one more time, as gently as he knows how even though it's not that gentle. He's never been good at this. Some of the scars scattered across Ghoul's body are from him. But Kobra had stitched up Ghoul's face and he's not going to give up now.
Ghoul finally turns and Kobra breathes a sigh of relief. Just a response. Proof of life even though he's still standing. And then Ghoul steps toward him and suddenly he's right there, shaking but otherwise just as eerily still as this entire place, like he's trapped in frozen time just like the rest of it, and he collides with Kobra's chest in a way that's both surprising and yet entirely expected.
"Oh." Kobra drops his helmet, dangling from one hand, and his arms hover uncertainly in the air for a moment before he carefully closes them around Ghoul. "Oh. Okay. Okay." He says quietly, startled, but not really. He'd felt the way Ghoul was holding onto him as they rode Mirage all the way out here.
Ghoul unfolds his arms from around himself and grabs onto the unzipped sides of Kobra's jacket. He doesn't cry, not out loud at least. He's just shaking, so much, and so, so small. Kobra's not good with words. He's even worse with them under pressure. Anything Jet or Party could say to make it better, that kind of stuff gets stuck on his tongue when Kobra tries to say it. So he doesn't. He just holds on.
"You plan on coming here?" Kobra asks eventually, even though he has a feeling the answer is no. Unless it's an engine or a bomb, Ghoul never really plans on much. Ghoul shakes his head, hair scrubbing against Kobra's shoulder and neck where his head's pressed. "You wanna... y'wanna go inside?" He asks then, against his better judgment. But then again, he's never been known for that, has he.
Ghoul tenses, but it momentarily stops the shaking. "Can we?"
Kobra huffs. "Nobody stoppin' us, and even if there were, we'd do it anyway, wouldn't we?"
Ghoul pries his fingers from their hold on Kobra's jacket and turns back toward the station. "Should we?"
"Dunno." Part of him thinks it might help. Part of him remembers exactly what happened the last time they were here. It's the Killjoy way to call death ghosting. It means some part of you lives on even when you're gone. There's a lot of ghosts in this pavement. "It's your-"
He can't think of what word goes there. Choice. Past. Grief. Place. So he stops talking. He shrugs, bends to pick up his helmet. "I can." He sucks a breath through his teeth. He's going to say it again. "I can... I can go with you. If you," he shrugs one shoulder again. "If you, uh, want to. I'm not- I'm not trying to force you," he adds, like it needs to be said. "It's your... yours."
Because that's all that really can be said. This place, the place that made Fun Ghoul what he is. The journey, however brief, that brought them here. Even, kinda, Kobra himself. It's all for Ghoul, here and now. Kobra drove, but he's just along for the ride. Weird how that happens.
Ghoul steps toward the station. Magnetism, again. And Kobra follows, because how could he not. He feels sick at the though of letting his friend go in that place alone.
The doors are gone. Shot out years ago. It looks to Kobra exactly as it did back then, but Ghoul probably remembers better. There are shelves toppled and glass and plastic broken all over the floor. Whatever hasn't been scavenged is broken and shattered. Ghoul walks toward the back of the store, the corner that's not so much a mess. Kobra stays back a bit, trying to give his friend space.
It's where they found Ghoul. Or, where Pois had found him. Ghoul was half in shock, terrified and scarred and fighting, and Party was the first one of their then three-strong group to notice the dark shape watching them hopelessly trawl the carnage for any survivors. It took Pois physically restraining the much smaller kid to keep Ghoul from going for all of their throats.
Kobra has a lot of bad memories of Ghoul. None are as bad as remembering the way he'd screamed when they first met.
"Y'okay?" Kobra asks after a while.
Ghoul has his moments. They all do. Sometimes, you wake up bad in the night and it's hard to pick yourself up. Sometimes you just gotta hit the bottom before you even can. But Ghoul's a fighter. "Yeah," he says, walking back and forth between fallen shelves once stocked with food and stupid trinkets. He crouches to pick up the shattered remnants of something once made of colorful glass and when he looks back over his shoulder at Kobra, he doesn't seem quite as small.
"'M sorry," Kobra mumbles, not knowing what to say now. Somehow, the shaking and the touch are so much easier than having to talk about it. He's never been the talker. That's Party. And he knows his brother regrets not getting there — here — sooner that day, but there's a sick, selfish part of Kobra that's too glad to have Ghoul to want anything different. But really, it's all he can say. If there's remnants of bones that haven't been carried away by carrion-eaters, he doesn't want to see it.
Ghoul slowly stands up from his spot on the floor, staring intently at the broken knick-knack in his palm. It might have been a glass teddy bear, once, something a parent might grab up for a child waiting at home. It's partially shattered, though. Half of its cartoonish smiling face is gone. The heart shape it once held in its paws is cracked down the middle. Kobra isn't great with metaphors, but this is pretty fucking obvious.
"I didn't save them," Ghoul says quietly, his voice grating through the charged, silent air. "I didn't save her."
Something clicks into place. They all know that the crew he lost was Ghoul's real actual biological family. He's a sandpup. He was born and raised in the Zones. He doesn't talk about it much. Kobra's shocked he even came back here, let alone with anyone else. Ghoul doesn't talk about his family, but they've all figured for a while that he had a sibling. You can see it in how he treats the Girl.
"Your sister," Kobra says. It doesn't sound like so much of a question when he says it out loud, but he knows Ghoul will understand it as one.
Ghoul nods. "Yeah." He steps over some toppled displays, sun-bleached ads that used to be bright colored, and slips the shiny piece of broken glass into one of Kobra's pockets since he doesn't have any of his own. Kobra can already see the sunburn forming on his friend's shoulders and the tops of his knees. "She was like, eight."
That's all the more he says about it, but Kobra slips his hand into the pocket and runs his fingers over the broken glass toy still warm from Ghoul's hands, and hears the years of grief and bitterness in the few words. Ghoul's more talky than he is, but he's cagey, too. Kobra can hear him, though. He gets it. Doesn't mean he knows what to say, though.
"Shit," he spits. He wants to say I'm sorry again, but that feels fuckin cheap. He wants to say stop beating yourself up about it, but that sounds even stupider. "Fuck." Sometimes that's all he can say.
"Yeah," Ghoul replies. "Fuckin shit."
"Exactly," Kobra agrees, fiercely relieved that Ghoul gets all the shit he's trying to say. "Hey, uh. Y'know I'm-" He stumbles over the words, cringes at himself for the inability to get past a stupid two-letter word. "I'm glad I know you." He manages, as selfish as it sounds standing here in the ghosted wreckage where Ghoul's family was killed. But if that hadn't happened, they wouldn't be here now. They wouldn't be friends. And Kobra needs Ghoul to know he's glad that any suicide run to save his family failed. The pain sucks, but he's grateful for the outcome. He hopes Ghoul can understand that.
Ghoul doesn't reply. His acid green eyes bore straight into Kobra's for a few seconds while Kobra's heart hammers in his chest. Then he kicks at some dust and looks at the floor and shrugs. "Let's go, man. I don't wanna stay here."
"M'kay."
Kobra's almost tempted to reach out as they walk back out into the glaring sun, grab onto Ghoul like he's a ghost, too, and the light might evaporate him. But he doesn't. He can't.
He thinks the feeling of Ghoul hanging onto him as he steers Mirage away, back up the ramp to the road they came down in the first place, will make him feel better. It doesn't. Ghoul holds on much looser than he had on the way here, and it makes Kobra nervous. He wonders if he should have made him wear a helmet, and steers more carefully around the turns.
And then Ghoul adjusts his seat and throws one arm up over Kobra's shoulder, loosely hooking around his neck. He leans up forward and shouts, "C'mon, Kobes, let's play with it!" Like he's itching for the risk that a couple hours ago had had him holding on for dear life. Kobra's used to thinking his best friend isn't all there. But he's also familiar with the times he is. Sometimes, he forgets they're not the same age because Ghoul is so larger than life.
He tips his head to the side in acknowledgement, and punches the throttle. He even pulls a couple of tight, quick loops. He can't slide on the pavement the way he would on sand, but he can catch a little air when there's a thermal bump in the highway. Ghoul clutches onto him, but it's not scared. Something's cleared up in the gas station. Maybe it was closure. Hell if Kobra knows.
When they pull Mirage off the highway and the diner finally comes back into view, just a small glint of signage, Kobra slows his pace and can feel Ghoul sigh more than he can hear it. His friend's arms stay firmly around him. "Hey, Kobes?" Ghoul says, just barely loud enough to be heard over the engine.
"Yeah?" Kobra says, a bit louder to be heard past his helmet.
Ghoul hesitates, then says in a rush, "I'm glad I know you too. Like, really glad." And then he squeezes Kobra a little tighter for just a second and Kobra can't even say anything in reply. It's been a long night at the wrong time of day. And they're almost home.
#yes I know kobra is doing that annoying ''r u ok'' thing very repetitively he's like me he repeats himself A LOT it's ok. we still love him#I cannot express this enough. kobra has a stutter. literally sometimes the only word that will come out is just. F bomb.#the others have gotten very good at translating him skskskddkfj#btw wrt kobra's speech patterns just know I'm cutting WAY back on the amount of repeating I do irl#like I'm giving him my (mild) stutter but cutting down the repetitions by a lot bc it looks weird on paper#so whenever he's repeating himself and stammering? yeah it's a lot more like a scratched CD than how I typed it out#in my head it's like SUPER noticeable. like everyone knows this happens and that sometimes he has to stop and be quiet#and take a minute before he can get on with what he's saying. it's just a thing#ok now that I'm done rambling about kobra kid having a stutter- :)#btw they're like 16 and 17 here. they are children trying to navigate these very big emotions and I love them so so dearly#next time I need to emotionally or physically hurt kobra skfjfnskdn I keep going after poor ghoul#ok I think that's all I have to say for now#she speaks!#she writes!#danger days#the true lives of the fabulous killjoys#danger days: the true lives of the fabulous killjoys#ttlotfk#kobra kid#fun ghoul#this isn't really funkobra just bc I don't actually ship ANYONE here skskfjdghkdjgfkd#I'm much more compelled by platonic relationships that are kinda the Secret Third Thing than I am by romance. so. yeah
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railingsofsorrow · 3 months
Text
I hate you, until I don't
[spencer reid x reader]
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summary: three times you annoyed Spencer and three times Spencer annoyed you, proving the two of you cannot stand each other. . . until the one time that there was less annoyance and more sexual tension. 
pairing: s.reid x reader 
w.c: 3.6K
warnings/content: inaccurate medical procedures (don't come for me); language; flirting; enemies to lovers; case-related violence; suggestive content (no smut but I'm classifying this as +16).
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━━━━━━━━━ 
[The Coffee] 
Smoke should be coming out of his ears by now, from the way his neck is pink and you're sure he's also got his jaw clenched by how his furiously he's writing on the board, connecting the leads.  
You've been fifteen minutes out of the room and Spencer has figure out the whole case.  
“Why are you so angry?” 
“I'm not angry.” 
You do not need to be a profiler to know he had that answer on the tip of his tongue, ready to give the excuse to someone who asked the inevitable question. Right, you're not gonna fall for that.  
“Um. Okay.” 
Spencer clicks the pen twice before you settle beside him, perching your hip against the table. His tongue travels across his lips slowly, he's trying to focus but can't.  
You don't know the reason. It could be a thousand things given that the local police you were working with have not been exactly welcoming to the FBI butting in on their case. Some cops acted hostile towards the team, but it was nothing you couldn't handle.  
By handling it you meant switching your focus to something better: Reid. You both draw limits to be around each other. It's nothing personal (maybe?) but you just don't get along as you do with the rest of the team. That doesn't mean you don't work well together in the field, no. In 80% of field work, you have Spencer by your side exchanging ideas to come up with good conclusions. The other 20% is the time apart you require to breathe away from each other.  
You don't hate him. If anyone hates Spencer Reid, they just might have to do a CT scan, that man doesn't have a single bad bone in his skinny body.  
You, however, have a field day while annoying him. Though you're not particularly close, you throw harmless jabs at one another once in a while.  
You are bored and Spencer is here, therefore... 
“I'm not angry.” His tone is final as he lets his eyes fall on you to look back to the board. The crease between his brows deepens. You tilt your head curiously. You don't really care about what got him mad, though it is an interesting fact to see him actually pissed about something. It's a rare image. “Not angry at all.” 
You kick his converse playfully, standing up fully. “I said okay, honey. You don't need to jump on my neck for it.” 
Spencer rolls his eyes, clicking the pen three times this time. You watch his fingers clenching and unclenching around the pen.  
“Don't call me honey.”  
Blinking up at him innocently, you turn around and say, “sure, honey. I'm gonna go and grab some coffee.” You raise your index finger before leaving the room, interrupting him mid-speech. “For me only, of course.” 
His mug was empty, you had seen as you walked into the room. He had dawned three of those already so of course you said that because you care about his health. Obviously. His scoff as you leave is the icing on the cake. 
By the time he finishes the geographic profile, he finds his mug magically refilled with freshly brewed coffee. 
━━━━━━━━━ 
[The Ambulance] 
“If you had listened to me—” 
“Don't you even fucking start. I have a gash on my forehead. My arm is numb and my knee is throbbing. You really think is wise to come in here and tell me I told you so? Disappear from my sight, now.” 
Those words seem to go on deaf ears because he proceeds to crouch down to survey the damage on your face the paramedic is already assessing. His gaze barely falling on yours until it fixates on your head injury, amber eyes narrowing slightly as they usually did while he is concentrated and is about to sputter out some incredibly intelligent fact.  
He does exactly that.  
“She should have an X-ray of her neck. She's been flinching every time you're turning her head. And a CT scan, she was also hit in the head with a—” 
You groan, not sure if it is because of the stitches or just deep-rooted anger towards your coworker.  
“God— can you please...” You give a begging look to the paramedic, who seems to be having too much fun by the lifted corners of her mouth. 
“— blunt object. Actually, you should be kept for observation for the entire night. Two days if possible.” He glances up at you, who presses your eyes shut instead of glaring, uncomfortable with the way the paramedic touches the sensitive spot on your neck. When you open them again, he's offering her a look of victory. 
“Shut up, Reid.” 
“It's a good idea.” The woman says for your distaste. Of course it is. Of course you agree with him. 
“No, it isn't. I have a flight to catch to get back home and sleep on my comfortable bed, I do not need hospitals or needles or blood.” You intervene, mentally dreading to spend the night alone at a hospital in a city you have never visited. 
“Do you have space for one more?” He questions suddenly, eyeing the inside of the ambulance. Your eyes widen at the implications of his actions. Before you have the chance to smash his head against the floor, he has already climbed into the ambulance, sitting comfortably in a corner.  
You stare in disbelief. The paramedic isn't hiding her amusement anymore. she's outright laughing. 
“Him? Not coming,” you say with finality, aggressively climbing into the ambulance, limping, to lie down on the stretcher.  
However, he does come, rubbing in your face the whole way to the hospital about how right he was about the situation and that you shouldn't throw yourself in danger at any chance you get.  
Hypocrite, as if he didn't do the same thing. 
━━━━━━━━━ 
[The Book] 
“Did you just skip to the end?” Spencer's voice laces with disbelief as he stares holes into the book between your fingers as if you have committed a heinous crime.  
You glance up from him and back to the book briefly. “No?” 
“You're an FBI Agent, you should know by now not to answer a question with a question.” 
“You're an FBI Agent with three PhDs, you should know by now how rude it is to interrupt one's reading.” You send the jab as quick as he had thrown his, rolling your eyes. 
“That doesn't apply if you're skipping to the end of the book—” 
You sigh, tired. “I have to see if the process is worth it.” 
“What?” Spencer shrieks out, switching his gaze from the book to you repeatedly. You press your lips shut, trying to suppress a smile. “What is that supposed to mean? You're supposed to enjoy and get surprised, not know everything—” 
“I'll forget about the end if I start reading it.” Which is true, if you read one part of the story without the context from the previous pages, then your mind just wipes it out as you come back to where you were. You had a bad memory of story plots. 
Spencer proceeds to get more offended by each word that comes out of your mouth. 
“No.” 
You let yourself chuckle this time. “What do you mean—hey!” You hiss as he yanks the book out of your hands, shutting it and hiding it behind him as some kid that's trying to hide his favorite toy so others won't find it. “Give it back, Spencer!” 
“You have to promise me to not read the end.” 
“I don't have to promise you anything.” 
“You want this back?” He waves the book in his hands. Your book. He threatens you with your book. 
You gape at him, then huff petulantly, crossing your arms like a toddler. To anyone who was watching, the both of you looked a lot like children bickering in the park. “Fine.” He offers you a skeptical gaze, narrowing his eyes with a slight scrunch of his nose and you can't help your reaction, really. Your lips twitch in a smile and you bite your cheek so hard it draws blood so you stop being stupid.  
He gives you your book back and pointedly studies your figure as you read, making sure you do not, in fact, skip to the end of the book. 
Spencer Reid is absolutely infuriating. No matter how cute he is. 
━━━━━━━━━ 
[The Drunk Confession] 
“I would've gotten a divorce if you were my secret lover.” You tell Emily with a slurred speech caused by the seven shots and two margaritas — maybe three, you stopped counting at the fourth shot. The table erupts in laughter at your claim. “No doubt.” 
Emily smirks at you, leaning as close as she can across from you, Luke is watching the exchange as if on a tennis match. Garcia slaps his shoulder.  
“Every. Time.” JJ mumbles with a roll of her eyes, turning to Spencer who looks bored out of his mind. “Don't you get tired of seeing them flirting every time they get drunk? It's getting old.” 
Spencer shrugs, a scowl setting on his face as he glances at you and Emily. He looks away.  
“Just ask her out, for god's sake.”  
JJ almost spits her drink. “What?”  
Spencer rolls his eyes, “you. Emily. Date. Do it.” He doesn't really feel like repeating himself again. Spencer doesn't know why he's so annoyed all of a sudden. 
“Well, why don't you do it?” JJ snaps, narrowing her eyes at him, who blinks at her. “Yeah, ask her out instead of judging me like that.” 
“No offense, but I don't see Emily that way.” 
“Of course you don't and I'm not talking about Emily, Spencer,” JJ says pointedly. “You know I'm not.” 
It doesn't take long for all of you to call it a night. The sober ones, at least, because the rest could stay until the morning without complaining, driving themselves to an alcoholic coma. That would have been your case. Fortunately, it isn't.  
And now, Spencer is in charge of driving you home against his will because you live close by.  
Great.  
“I can put on my own seatbelt, thanks.” You frown as he lifts his hand to help you put the seatbelt on. He retracts it with a roll of eyes.  
“Be my guest.” 
“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, leaning your head back and closing your eyes as you feel the car being turned on. “Don't worry, m' not gonna puke in your car or whatever.” 
Spencer freezes on his way to changing gears. “Are you feeling sick?” 
“I just told you—” 
He rolls his eyes, “I just meant that driving may make it worse, so if you want, we can wait and then I'll take you home.”  
You open one eye to narrow him down suspiciously. It wasn't that bad. You just had drink a lot, and your body is having a completely normal reaction, though it was a bit annoying. But you don't think you're about to throw up.  
“Careful, you almost sound like you care about my well-being.” 
Spencer drove off the parking lot with a huff, “sure. If you do puke in my car I'll leave you alone in the middle of the avenue.” 
A hiccup came out at the same time as your laugh and it ended up turning into a snort, which was not that graceful and you quickly covered your mouth.  
He gave you a sideways glance and you told him to keep driving, ignoring the twitch on his lips you thought you saw. No, that was definitely not there. 
“You would never do that to me.” 
“Try me.” 
“I can't believe I had a thing for you.” 
“What?” 
He almost had the urge to hit on the brakes but controlled himself. You hummed, watching the trees move as the car drove past them in the avenue. You rolled your window down, leaning your face outside a little, scrunching your nose when droplets of rain poked your nose. 
"Oh, it's gonna rain." 
"It's already raining- what do you mean you had a thing for me? What does that mean?" 
"Are you nervous?" 
"What- No!" He shifted his attention between the road and you quickly. 
You nodded, pretending you believed him and folding your arms across your chest as you leaned back on the seat, closing the car window so you wouldn't get wet.  
“You're kinda my type, Spencer.” 
“I'm- I'm your type— what does that mean?” He insisted and you rolled your eyes with a groan, you wished you were drunker than this. 
“... pretty boy with pretty brown eyes ... smart as hell and has a questionable sense of style. C'mon. It's like you're begging me to fall in love with you." You cleared your throat. "I had a crush on you, as in the past sense." 
Spencer squinted. "You just spoke in the present tense-" 
"Yeah, I knew you were going to focus on that, leave me alone, I'm drunk." 
He pressed his lips together to avoid laughing at your expense.  
"Right." 
How come he never noticed it? He couldn't stop thinking about it.  
“Are you still thinking about it?” 
Spencer turned on your street, biting his cheek. “No.” 
“Why not?”  
He spun his neck to look at you and almost drove into the sidewalk, which made you huff out a laugh.  
“Careful, genius. You might crash us because you figure out somebody has a crush on you.” 
Spencer scoffed, turning the engine off to glance at you in disbelief. “Are you serious? You just spoke in the present tense again.” 
Shrugging, you leaned back on the seat, sideways to stare at him, a little smile playing on your lips because you were enjoying the banter too much.  
“Did I?” 
“Yes.” he frowned and his nose scrunched in the cutest way possible you just felt like biting it.  
“It started when I saw you in glasses.” You admitted, nails scratching against your jeans distractedly. “You were like a knock-off Peter Parker, just cuter and way more attractive.” 
He scowled at you but you were able to see the clear pink cheeks he had acquired upon being called attractive. You weren't lying. The biggest lie and cruelty of this world was that Spencer Reid wasn't looked at twice by girls or boys. You would've been fanning over him at high school. 
“You're mocking me,” he concluded. 
You denied with a hum from deep within your throat. “Nu-huh. I'm not.” 
His eyes analyse every micro expression of your face and you stare as he does so. His lips twitch before he speaks and your eyes fall on them. 
“We're here.” 
He chose to say instead, his brain on slow thinking mode as you stared at him like you were contemplating something in your head. 
“You want me to go?” 
Spencer blinks up at you, big brown eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights, the corner of your mouth lifts upwards slightly. 
“What do you mean? I gave you a ride.” He replied, confusedly. “Do you need help to go up to your apartment? Are you dizzy?” 
“Not dizzy.” You shifted, pulling your knees up to hold them. Shoes off ever since you entered his car. “It was just a question.” 
“Are you testing me?” 
You tilted your head, causing a few strands of your hair to be released from behind your ear as you rummaged through his glove box. A book — of course there was a book in there —, a lens cleaner spray — you wondered if he still used his glasses, just not on the field —, two hair ties — you lift a brow at that — and lastly, his license and vehicle registration — you smile at the picture. He snatched it out of your hand to pull it back on the glove box and close it.  
“Why would I be testing you?” 
“To make fun of me.” 
Your eyes narrowed in slits.  
“I don't like making fun of people, less alone you.” 
Spencer held your stare for a hot second before he leaned back on his seat with a sigh.  
You poked his hip, laughing when he jumped in surprise.  
“You're so cute.” 
“Stop that.” 
“Calling you cute or tickling you?” 
“Both!” He shrieked out, holding your hand as you attempted to tickle him again. You adjusted yourself on the seat, studying the way he seemed intrigued by your hand. Or the fact he hadn't let go of it. “I can help you up to your apartment, ” he said after a moment of silence, something stirring in his stomach at the way you were looking at him.  
"You want to help me up to my apartment?" Now you are just riling him up for the sake of it. You hold his hand before he can let go of yours, a smirk dancing around your lips. "Sorry, I'll stop." 
"You're so annoying,"  
"You think so?" Your voice is low, careful. You lean forward slightly. 
"Yes," he says with uncertainty. He lifts his other hand slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear because it kept falling on your cheek.  
Your throat feels dry all of a sudden, and you swallow hard, shivering as his fingers trail down your cheek. "Spencer." 
"Mhm?" He's not paying attention to what you're saying, too busy entranced by your lips to do anything else. You just wish he'd pull both of you out of your misery. Since he doesn't move, you take matters into your own hands and break the gap between the two of you. His breath halts and he takes one or two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, lips parting in surprise. You bask in the effect that you have on him before he pulls you in by the back of your neck and it's your turn to react surprised by his actions. Your back arches and a sound of contentment escapes your throat when his fingers press against your thigh.  
You're straddling his lap in no time, his hands all over your body. You lower your lips to his neck, nibbling at his skin, satisfied with the moan he lets out in response to your touch.  
Spencer says your name once. Twice. It's the third time that you actually hear him.  
"What?" 
"You're drunk," he breathes out, chest going up and down unsteadily. "We should- we should stop." 
"I'm not drunk." You tilt your head, tracing his swollen lower lip with your thumb.  
He chuckles nervously, grabbing your hands to pull it away from his neck and his neck so he could think straight for five minutes. "You are. You taste like tequila." 
"Mhm, is that so?" 
He groans, eyes dropping shut. "Don't do that." 
Your smile widens into a menacing grin.  
"Do what, genius?" 
"This. You. You know what you're doing." Spencer insists half-heartedly, eyes fluttering open to stare at you. He can't help but stare down at your lips again, letting out a sigh.  
Finally, your shoulders slump in dissatisfaction as you realize he wouldn't want to go forward as long as you have an ounce of alcohol in your blood.  
"Who's annoying now?" You mumble, burying your head on his shoulders. His fingers trail up and down your bare arms, his hands then settle on your hip, drawing invisible circles there. You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. "You're gonna be the death of me," you whine, wrapping both arms around his middle. Spencer shakes with a chuckle and you smile into his skin.  
There is no going back from this. You either screwed up your professional relationship or just initiated something really good.  
You don't know which one is worse. 
He goes up to your floor with you and you expect him to say goodbye as you step out of the elevator. He follows you to your door and finds the key in your purse that you had spent more than a minute trying to find it.  
"You want to stay over?" You eye him, trying to sound nonchalant but in reality, you are expecting a yes.  
It's not what you get. 
"No." You conclude you screwed up your whole dynamic. He holds your wrist before you walk in and leave him in the hallway, pulling you back and cupping your cheek to press his lips to yours in a rather gentle and less frantic kiss than the ones you had just shared in the car. "Ask me when you're not drunk," he mumbles into your lips and you frown when he withdraws himself from you.  
You understand his reasoning, but that doesn't mean you enjoy the thought of spending the night without him, finishing what you started.  
"Will you want to stay over then?" 
Spencer knows what you mean. You're asking if he will want to stay over after tonight, after the moment has passed and it's another day, or if he wants to forget and pretend it never happened.  
"Yes." He doesn't hesitate, kissing your forehead before he takes a step back, ready to leave but not wanting to with the image of you leaning against your doorway, face slightly flushed after your make-out session. "Goodnight." 
You munch on your lower lip, opening the door to go inside. He waits for you to close it but you walk out again, his eyes widening as you pull him into another kiss. Just as he's about to place his hands on your waist, you pull back, patting his chest.  
"You're still annoying." You say, stepping back to enter your apartment, leaving him completely unresponsive in the middle of your hallway for a few minutes.  
God, he hates you.  
━━━━━━━━━ 
taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; @hoeshissworld ; @r-3dlips ; @pleasantwitchgarden 
412 notes · View notes
wsoc-gay · 4 months
Text
World Cup Results
Ona Batlle x Reader
Summary: It seems as though you and Ona make big decisions after big matches.
(This was originally going to be longer, but then it became too long. So, instead, I am breaking it into two parts, second will be out soon.)
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You and Ona had met during her time playing at Manchester United while you were still at Arsenal. Arsenal was your childhood club you had made your way through the youth system until you finally made your full-team debut at 16. As growing through the Arsenal ranks you also were an up-and-coming player in the England youth system making your international debut at just 17. 
You met Ona when you were 18 after she had first arrived to United, one of your best friends from the National team, Alessia, introduced you two after a match. From that day forward you two were nearly inseparable. For your years in England, it was a relationship full of afternoon drives after training and early morning goodbyes to be back to London in time for the next, but nevertheless you two did it because you truly fell for each other fast.
It was three years later that Ona decided she wanted to return to Barcelona, she wanted you to come with her, but you were hesitant at first. Your whole life was in London all you ever knew was Arsenal, but also you two weren’t public and you weren’t sure about the swarm that would come from it. Your families and friends knew about your relationship, but with how young you both were you wanted to keep it out of the spotlight, you didn’t want the media focused on your relationship over your football. However, after a year of playing in two different countries you decided you had enough a followed her to her home.
You were one of the best players in the world at the time, so it did not take a lot for you to get a contract from the Catalonian club. While you still weren’t saying anything about your relationship to the public fans quickly started to notice the undeniable connection between you two, the walks into matches, the looks during training, Ona always being your first hug after scoring, and everything in between. You slowly started to be less secretive about your relationship until the only thing keeping fans from knowing you were dating was a kissng photo. 
It now was the 2027 World Cup final; you and Ona had been together for 7 years and were now meeting for the second time in a World Cup Final. You hugged and placed a kiss on the short Spaniard’s temple during the prematch pitch inspections, but then went on your way as you both were here for business.
You scored early into the match, just a mere 15 minutes in is when you broke the deadlock. It was a brilliant through ball from Kiera that you were able to calmly finish past Cata, you immediately ran towards the corner flag to celebrate in front of your country’s fans as your teammates chased after you.
It wasn’t long after that Aitana scored the tying goal and brought the game even going into halftime. The speeches weren’t long, both teams knew what they had to do going into the second half. It was tight for the majority of second half, Spain doing what they do well and passing around your team, but you and Kiera used what you’ve learned there to hold them. 
It was the 87th minute that La Reina, herself, scored the winner for Spain. The English team and fans could do nothing but tip their hats to the Spanish captain as it truly was the perfect goal to win a World Cup with, a beautiful passing display starting with their backline which found their captain sitting alone at the top of the box and hit a first time shot perfectly into the top corner. 
As soon as the whistle blew you fell to the ground with your head in your hands sobbing, severely disappointed for now the second time. So close to being on top of the world but failing right at the summit. 
Ona knew better than to come comfort you right away, in the years of you playing together and against she learned that more than comfort at first you simply needed time to yourself. If she were to come over to you now you would’ve just shoved her away and told her to go celebrate. 
It was after the medal ceremonies when she came and found you sitting on the turf knees tucked tight against your chest. She sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you against her chest, “I’m so proud of you, mi amor,” She kissed your head.
Whenever you lost to the brunette, she always followed it up with this comment. She knew better than to apologize for winning as you would never take this from her. You let out a light chuckle, clearly still emotional, “Still can’t quite beat you, can I?”
Ona let out a breath when she heard you laugh, she was hoping to lighten the mood a bit, but didn’t expect for your comment to be the one that did it, “You’ll get to try again in four years, don’t worry.”
You sat up straight and turned so that you were facing he Spaniard, “You know if I can’t win them, I’m glad you’re the one beating me.”
She smiled and her cheeks reddened slightly at the comment. It was true if you weren’t the one winning you were glad the love of your life got to accomplish what was both of your dreams, “I take home the World Cup medals you bring home the Ballon D’ors.”
You laughed again, “I’ll see what I can do about that.” At just 26 years old you had won the last two Ballon D’ors, but you knew as well as anyone that after a World Cup year it would almost inevitably go to one of the winners.
“I think I know what could make you feel better,” You gave her a suggestive look, she leaned into whisper in your ear, “Vamos a tener un bebé.”
You couldn’t believe what you just heard and leaned back in shock, “What did you just say?”
Louder and in English this time, “Let’s have a baby.” 
The comment was dropped slightly to the Spaniard’s own surprise. She wasn’t expecting to say it at this time, but she had been thinking it for a while now. It slipped out in the moment of pure joy for her, and she couldn’t imagine a time better than coming off a World Cup win to start their family.
The topic has come up many times throughout your relationship, but always ended on saying that it was something for the future. Ona knew she wanted to carry for you both, but you always settled that it was something for the future, you didn’t want to interrupt the Spaniard’s career. However, there simply was nothing more than either of you wanted than to have a family one day, to get to see your love encompassed into a family. Both of yours love for family was one of the reasons you first fell in love, nothing came before family for either of you and that would one day include a family of your own. 
The conversation on the field quickly was pushed aside as you joined Ona and some of her Spanish teammates on their post-World Cup holiday. It was a vacation full of boats, sun, and many, many, drinks. You all had all agreed it was one of the nicest holidays and breaks from football you had in a while.
After returning from you holiday you both returned to your normal lives of training and preparing for matches. The topic still hadn’t been brought back up until one day after returning from training you noticed Ona was a bit quieter than usual at dinner.
“Is there something bothering you, mi amor? You’re quieter than usual.”
 “No, nothing is wrong,” Ona looked down at her plate as she spoke, in the tone reserved for when she was upset over something. It was quiet, slower, and slightly sharper causing her accent to come through a bit more in her English words.
“Babe, I can tell something is wrong, please tell me,” You were nearly pleading with her now, as your eyes searched her expressions for any details and as your mind raced through the contents of your day in efforts to find what had upset the short brunette.
She continued to look down at her plate, “It’s nothing I promise.”
Ona stood up from the table and collected the plates before walking into the kitchen and over to the sink. She began washing the dishes as you followed her to the kitchen. You stood a few feet away leaning against the counter, you didn’t want to startle the smaller girl by touching her, “Talk to me please, I want to help.”
She kept her focus on washing the dishes and spoke softly as if she was worried for your response, “I just thought we would talk about starting a family soon, but you don’t seem like you want to.”
Ona didn’t look towards you, but saw you freeze as soon as the words left her mouth. She was worried about your response so continued cleaning the dishes as if she hadn’t just dropped the one thing that hadn’t left your mind since the final. 
You walked over to her and gently reached for her chin to turn the Spaniard to face you, “What did you just say?” You said hushed, but sternly.
Ona’s cheeks flushed under your hand, “It’s just that you seemed excited at the final when I brought up having a baby, but you haven’t mentioned it since and I seriously meant it,” She began rambling when you suddenly cut her off with a soft kiss to her lips.
You leaned back slightly enough that she still felt your breath against her lips, “Sounds like were going to have a baby then.”
The shorter woman placed a hand against her chest and leaned back slightly with a big smile plastered against her face. Your free hand found its spot wrapped around her waist you hold her upright, “Really? You want to have a baby?”
You moved your hand holding her chin to the small of her back and pulled her flush against you, “Of course I want to have a baby with you, I didn’t want to bring it up because I didn’t want it to seem like I was pushing you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to put your career on hold for this.”
Ona’s hands found their place around your neck as she leaned into place a kiss to your cheek, “I don’t want to tell our kids stories of us playing, I want them to be able to be there, to be able to experience it themselves.”
You leaned in to passionately kiss her then pulled away with a gleaming smile, “Sounds like were going to have a baby then.”
You began the reciprocal IVF process almost immediately, both of you getting tested and screened to make sure that you both were in good enough health to begin the process. These thankfully all came back with positive results allowing for you to continue forward. 
There was worry and stress looming throughout your house during the early stages of the process. Many nights spent talking through fears and uncomfortable conversations which always ended in you both feeling more optimistic and hopeful.
Ona was there to hold your hand for every injection you took, and you were helping her with everything in the house to give her as little stress as possible. For every appointment she had you were sat right there next to her just as she did for you. You both knew that no matter what you were there for each other, and you’d be okay.
The egg retrieval day was stressful, you were worried about the procedure and weren’t quite fully sure what to expect, but as always Ona was right there for you calming you down as your leg bounced in the waiting room. Once you were in the room and the doctor walked you through what would happen you were much less stressed and more excited than ever to get further in the process.
After the first implantation you had to wait two weeks for the blood test to find out if it had stuck. It was a very anxious two weeks for you two full of trying to find ways to distract yourselves, and of Ona claiming she had symptoms even though you both knew it was too early for that. 
On the fourteenth day you were sat in the waiting room with your knee bouncing like there was no tomorrow. You wanted to be strong for Ona, but you knew you both were just as nervous as one another. The Spaniard was brough back alone at first to get the blood draw, but then was led to the room where you’d wait for the doctor.
Once you were brought back into the room you walked beside the bed your girlfriend laid on and took a hold of her hand. 
You brough the back of her hand to your lips to lay a kiss before you stood to look at her, “If we don’t get the news, we’re hoping for we’ll be okay. I’m still so proud of you and it won’t be your fault.”
Ona had a slight pout on her face and looked up at you with those deep brown eyes you had fallen in love with all those years ago, “I really hope it worked.”
You let up a small smile at her as you leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, “Me too baby, but it’s rare it sticks on the first try. We’ll be okay no matter what, we can try again whenever you’re ready if we have too.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you-”
You cut her off before she could finish, “You could never disappoint me, mi amor. I love you no matter what and I’m right here through it all.”
You both felt like you were drowning under the weight of the anxiety in the room but knew that no matter what either of you would say in that moment nothing could quite calm the nerves you both were feeling. 
You could’ve sworn time had never moved slower, as you stood there waiting for the doctor. There were so many times in your life, on and off the pitch, that you have wished to be able to freeze time and stay in those moments forever, but now more than ever you wished time would pass by sooner. You both wished to escape the anxious feeling deep in your bodies and for the doctor to come in and tell you the words you’ve been awaiting since beginning the process.
You were beginning to zone out, imagining a future with Ona and your family, when suddenly a slight knock on the door led in a woman dressed in a white coat holding a folder, with what you assumed were the results.
You were stood there trying to read the expressionless face of the doctor standing before you, trying to gauge any sense of what she was about to tell you both. “Are you both ready?”
Ona looked up at you, “God, I don’t know if I’m ready.”
You moved your hand to rub it along the side of Ona’s face when the doctor spoke again, “Trust me you want to know.”
Ona’s head whipped around back to the doctor, you swear she could’ve gotten whiplash, “What?”
“Congratulations, you’re officially two weeks pregnant.”
Ona collapsed back onto the bed as tears immediately filled both of your eyes. You had a hand covering your shocked expression, and Ona had one covering her tearful eyes. 
You leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, “You did it, mi amor, we’re going to have a baby,” You whispered through tears.
She looked up at you with matching tear-filled eyes, “Lo hicimos, hay un bebé ahí adentro,” You hand found its place on the side of her face as the other one still hasn’t let up its grip on her hand. 
Once you both were recovered enough to refocus on the doctor, she explained further into what expect for the coming weeks and advice on keeping Ona as healthy as possible for the baby.
You listened as closely as possible as you knew you were going to do everything you could for them both, starting now.
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magicdustsworld · 2 months
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𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬
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Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Returning home via a road trip sounded good until your car had to run out of gas. With little choices and a lot of compromises, you and your boyfriend decided to crash in a cheap motel for one night. It wasn't your fault that things got a little heated. No one will know, right? Right?
Tropes: Explicit smut, not an established relationship
Warnings: Profanity, fingering, nipple play, protected sex (not b/w main leads), voyeurism, masturbation, ejaculation, nonconsensual videography, implications of blackmail, modern AU, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.
Word count: 2.8k
Event: my work for @/levievent under the prompt of day 2 - voyeurism.
A/N: Will be posting on Ao3 soon + I only have two hours before I actually have to wake up for school hjshjs bye gotta go sleep! Hope you enjoy <3
Divider credits: @cafekitsune
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Five? Six? Or has it been Seven?
The humid breeze wisped through your hair as your boyfriend drove down the highway. You perched your elbow over the window ledge, face nestled into your palm as you absentmindedly drummed your fingers over your cheekbone. You checked your watch – 16:27. Time seemed to crawl, dragging itself and so did it drag your irritation which ascended like a straight line graph. The scowl played on your lips and you didn’t bother hiding it from your partner. Least interested. Why should you even do that in the first place? He was the reason for it, after all.
The car revved through the forlorn road, occasionally you’d get a glimpse of a shepherd or two as they returned to their homes with their flock of sheep. Given, the sun was setting down, coating the very grasslands and farms with its hues, the mild heat burnt your skin yet it wasn’t anything too sharp. Rather it was proving to be your solace from the palpable tension strewing in the vehicle.
“Just an hour more,” His voice reached your ears over the buzzing of the radio. “We’ll reach there before you know it.”
You merely hummed at that, keeping your attention strictly on the sprawling grasslands that stretched miles over the horizon.
However, your lack of response caused him to let out a frustrated groan, “How long are you going to keep up that bitchy attitude?”
“As long as I want.”
Obviously, he didn’t take that kindly-vexation flaring in his veins. “For Fuck’s sake,” He cursed. “What are you even so god damn upset about? I said we’ll be in Paradis soon enough.”
“I don’t know, Eren.” You snapped back. “Maybe it’s because we would’ve been in Paradis by now if you weren’t fucking reckless.”
“Me? I was reckless?” He scoffed, voice dripping with disdain. “We had to start off an hour late because of you and now you have the fucking audacity to put the fucking blame on me?”
“You didn’t have to breach the speed limit for that. Was it fun to get stuck in the station for two hours? And a ticket on top of that?” You rolled your eyes. “Buy one get one free, how delightful!”
“That’d only be a case of five minutes if the officers weren’t-”
“Don’t you dare start with your speech on our miserable government now, it pisses me off.”
Green eyes blazed with fury as he glared at you and you glared back with an equal fervour. The staring contest only served to heighten the chasm of agitation that dripped from you both. Until, both of you broke it off with a derisive huff-turning your individual attentions away from each other.
Spending a week in Marley with your boyfriend had been lucrative. Considering you were able to catch up with a few of your friends during the, albeit short vacation had you more jubilant than ever until... this day. Returning to Paradis via a road trip sounded good, exciting even, until it was put to practice. With each atrocious situations both of you found yourself in since the break of dawn, only made this journey unbearable.
Ten minutes further into the drive, the revving of the car engine was the only sound that cut through the cold war; until that happened to be a distant memory. The vehicle slowed down gradually, friction and the coarse road causing it to sputter and eventually come to halt on the desolate road.
You blinked. So did Eren. A second passed in silence until he spoke.
“Out of gas.”
A smile stretched on your lips, “Perfect.”
.
Amidst the darkened night sky, the neon red name of the motel stood out – The Ackerman’s.
After the car had ran out of gas, both of you had to walk three kilometres in the highway until reaching a site where at least civilized humans resided. You and Eren for the first time today, could agree that being stranded in the middle of nowhere would be more precarious than it showed itself to be. Besides, both of you had taken the highway which crossed the farmlands. Hardly any car would drive by that can offer both of you a lift and asking help from the locals was out of the question. Neither of you were psychics to know who might harbour ill intentions and who wouldn’t. Left with little options, a quick google search had you aware of a cheap motel only kilometres away. With a three point five star rating, it seemed to be a decent place to crash in for just a night.
Entering the motel, you were greeted with a small lobby comprising of a reception desk, a staircase which presumably was for the rooms above, and a door which had a hanging sign of staff only. The carpet underneath your boots appeared thin and frayed on the edges. Desk made of cheap laminate, an old computer rested on it with a file and a few pen stocked in a holder. Although, an air of loneliness surrounded the area, you couldn’t help but find how all of it was unbelievably clean.
“No one’s here?” Eren questioned, walking over to the reception desk – eyes searching for any semblance of life.
You sighed, stretching your arms and twisting your torso to get rid of all the pent up tension. “Seems so.”
“Seems not.”
On cue, a grave voice reached your ears. Rotating on your heels, you encountered him—a man who appeared a few years older. Dark hair styled in an undercut with bangs cascading over his forehead, sharp features and a poker look marked his mien. He held a teacup, quite literally on his fingertips, eyes lingering on you for a second before he strolled over to the reception.
The brief moment when he side past you, had you keenly aware of two facts. First, he’s shorter than an average man. Second, he’s hotter than an average man.
He plopped himself on the chair across the desk, keeping his tea cup down. Turning on the computer, he asked, “Room for two?”
“Room for two.” Eren answered.
He kept his eyes on the screen, the clicks of the mouse reverberating. “Night or hours?”
Eren blinked. “What?”
“Charges.” He clarified. “Should I charge you by a night or hour?”
“What’s the difference?”
“15 dollars for an hour each and 150 for a night.”
You could see how Eren’s lips twisted into a frown as if both the prices hurt his soul on a personal level. After a moment of contemplation, he answered, “One night.”
The man nodded, continuing the process of registration. After a five minute delay which consisted of filling in details such as name, phone number and asking for ID, Eren received the key. Opening a file, he pointed to the bottom right corner, “Sign it.” Eren complied without much of a thought. After he was done, the man’s eyes flickered to you. “You too.”
Therefore, you complied too.
.
The room was far from ideal.
A makeshift double bed with a nightstand, two chairs for lounging, a box TV, and an attached bathroom which you didn’t bother to check. The walls were dull yet a flair of lime scented disinfectant lingered in the air proving the room to have been recently cleaned. Honestly, with the amount the man down the reception was charging, this was literally the bare minimum. Or maybe not.
“I should’ve asked him if he had any spare gas.” Eren grumbled, pushing your bags to one corner of the room.
“Tomorrow you can,” You muttered, taking off your socks as you hummed the music of a distant song softly. Not letting yourself ponder on the negativities as much, you laid down on the bed. Enough had happened today, you didn’t need a reminder or to know any more what ifs of the situation. A sign of utter relief left your lips as soon as your body made contact with the sheets. Achieving one night’s peace in this atrocity is more than enough.
Eren, however, had other plans in mind.
Like you, he made himself comfortable on the bed as well.
“Did that bitch finally get off your shoulders?”
That caused a twist of your lips, “Nope, she’s still here.”
“Sure.” His deep voice rang in your ears and you were painfully aware of your proximity. “Wonder how she’s going to get off then?”
“Well, I don’t know,” You mused, turning your body towards him. His turquoise eyes sparkled with an underlying idea for the situation. An idea you loved. A ghost of a smirk curved on the corner of his lips and you didn’t deter from trailing your well-manicured nail down his chiselled jaw. “You tell me.”
The suggestiveness of the act didn’t elude him.
A second later, both of you were locking lips.
.
Levi hated his job.
No, he wasn’t a god damn receptionist. He was the owner of this motel – a legacy or more like a burden passed to him by his only, late relative, Kenny. And shitty Kenny had some fucked up fantasies swivelling in his head and that’s why he just happened to put up CCTV in the rooms. That was enough for him to lose any sort of respect he harboured for the man until he the reasons for his relatives depravity was laid bare before him.
The story goes like this:
Apparently, his uncle had some pals from the secret police department of Paradis and those fuckers were tracking some hefty politician who went by the name of Rod Reiss. The latter was responsible for smuggling armament and carbines to Marley – the information to the police forces by one of the members of his smuggle party. The catch? Arresting Rod wasn’t a child’s play. From the vague news, the police were sure of one thing – the deals happened in low and cheap motels like these. Hence, to catch the bastard red handed, the forces reached out to Kenny who was the, then owner, of this motel. Kenny was more than ready to get his hands dirty as if he got a thrill out of expeditions such. Ensuing miniscule cameras in the few rooms had done the job. Of course, Rod was arrested. Of course, Kenny spat on his face.
Of course, Levi was annoyed to hell when he first encountered footages he didn’t wish to encounter.
Nevertheless, that tale had unfolded long ago and Kenny hadn’t got rid of the cameras. As for Levi, he was least bothered to what happened in the rooms. Therefore, he didn’t deactivate them either.
Never will the devices prove useful to Levi. Or so he thought.
Barely dressed in a pair of black lingerie, the thin material did little to contain your perky breasts and your hardened nipples poked the fabric as Eren palmed you through your underwear. You breathily moaned while his mouth was pressed on yours in a heated kiss.
Levi’s fingers twinged ever so slightly as he watched the open pornopraphy on his personal computer screen. In the privacy of his room, he wasn’t doing very good breaching his customer’s privacy. Well, he could care less about that. In his defence, he couldn’t help his cock from straining in his briefs when the straps of your bra slid down your shoulders revealing a tantalizing pair of tits. Throat began to dry up as soon as your boyfriend pulled down you’re the last garment on your body.
Slick ran down your pussy, and Eren wasted no second in plunging two of his fingers inside your soaking cunt. Your back arched almost involuntarily, the need to feel any sort of friction increasing by second. He curled his digits inside you, velvet walls clamping at the intruder and the lubrication only made it easier for him to twist and toy with your needy cunt.
It was as if Levi’s body had a mind on its own as the next event unfolded. Spreading his legs wide, he reached down to grasp the painful bulge. That provided little relief. He bet you tasted just as much intoxicating akin to the whiff of your perfume he caught – the first thing he noticed about you.
Eren bend down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue on the areolas while he fondled with the other tit. His touch igniting a hoard of sensations on your body as your toes curled with your head thrown back. He rubbed circles over your clit, the ridges of his knuckled brushed against your pussy lips making it almost impossible for you to keep your voice low.
Shit! Unbuckling his belt, Levi pulled down his briefs – freeing his cock from cage. He grasped it by the base, blood rushing in the veins pulsated against the creases of his palm. “Ah- fuck!” He cursed under his breath, already feeling the precum ooze from his tip.
A sinfully loud whine left your mouth as Eren retracted his finger from your dripping folds. You buckled your hips, trying to press your legs together for the just any amount of touch but he managed to keep your legs spread wide for him.
“Patience baby,” Eren smirked, discarding his briefs as he pushed you further on the bed. Grabbing a condom from his trousers, he tore it open with his teeth before putting it over his length. He spat into his hands, pumping his entire length a few times before positioning himself on your entrance, “Ready baby?”
You nodded and he shoved himself inside you.
“Fuck! Fuck!” Levi cursed out loud, stroking his entire length with an intensity and fervour even unseen by him. The hormones flowed in his veins ceremoniously and violent, a sheen of sweat was forming over his forehead, some dripping to his cheeks from his bangs. His mouth was wide open as he watched the erotegenic display between you and your boyfriend. His swollen cock rested against his hand which was busy in providing it with its much needed gratification. He could hear your wanton moans from his earphones; each moan of yours incited a groan from him.
Your legs quivered as Eren placed your limbs over his shoulders, causing him to reach deeper inside your cavern. His tip rubbed against your g-spot and you rolled your eyes back, the orgasm building up with each of his heavenly thrusts as he swayed your body like a sex doll. Your perky breasts jostled with each thrust of his hips, sweat glistening over the skin while he continued to grind his hips against yours. Quite literally. He wasn’t even pulling out at one point just setting a pace to create a narrow friction and he continued to sputter absolute filth down your ears.
The live porn only coaxed Levi into building his orgasm as he stroked his cock quicker than the last time. Vehemently, he circled his thumb over the swollen tip – almost crying out loud at the sudden increase of pleasure shooting in his abdomens. He gritted his teeth while he watched just how you were digging your nails on Eren’s back, chanting his name like a mantra. You were just being fucked stupid on screen and he was rendering himself stupid while he fist fucked his shaft.
Eren reached down to pinch your enlarged clit and that was all it took – you yelled his name, so loud so clear that someone can just hear you if they listen close enough. The pleasure washed over you like a tide while you squeezed your eyes shut letting the orgasm wear off. Eren continued to grind into you following suit as he burst his seed inside the sheath before pulling out of you.
As for Levi, he was sure he could hear your shriek down to his room even without the headphones. He threw his head back, eyes squinting shut as he felt himself reaching his climax – coating his fingers with his hot release. From the ear piece he could hear the muffled conversations and ragged breathing between you and your boy toy. After giving himself a minute of rest, he detached the cord of his computer from the point. Looking down at the mess he created, a disgustful scowl made itself etch on his mien.
He clicked his tongue, “Fuck! I am filthy.”
.
Fortunately, Eren was able to get some spare gas from the man in the reception. It may only be a trick of mind but did the latter rest his eyes on you more than a second longer?
Nevertheless, you reached home safely.
.
Six days later, you received a parcel.
A small brown cardboard box, precisely taped and packed when it reached your door. Unknown sender. You were contemplating that if you had received someone else’s parcel. However, curiosity got the best of you and opening the package, you were greeted with a black pendrive.
Plugging it in your laptop, you clicked the only video file it had.
One minute in the said video and your blood ran cold.
Two minutes in the said video and you were hysterically crying.
Completed with the said video, a text popped up.
Thank you for spending one night at the Ackerman’s.
See you soon.
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kmt123whatsthetea · 1 year
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Room for two (NSFW)
Fred Weasley x fem reader x George Weasley
Fred and y/n have been dating for a whole but she still struggles to tell her boyfriend and his brother apart. The twins (being the horny, mischievous fuckers they are) decide to use that to their advantage and have a little fun. What can I say, Fred likes to watch…
TW: nsfw (under 16’s dni), mean dom Fred, mean dom George, degradation, no incest, sharing, voyeurism, spanking, slight bondage, no prep (evil boys 😏), unprotected sex, masturbation (male), face smacking, cum swallowing. I think that's everything.
A/N: This is not only my first Weasley fic, but also my first time writing smut, yay! Italic bold speech is a flashback except for the word ‘Kitten’. Read and it’ll make more sense lol.
1.4K words
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“C’mon love, me and Georgie have missed you. Spend the weekend with us above the shop, it’ll be fun”
When the brilliant Fred Weasley invites you to stay with him and his brother above their shop in Diagon Alley, there’s really no option other than yes. You had been dating him for nearly three years and you loved him more than anything else in the world. A nice, quiet weekend with the Weasley twins would do you some good…
…but Fred had other plans.
____________________________________________
You arrived on Friday and walked into the shop, seeing one of the ginger haired twins behind the counter and the other stocking a shelf nearby, neither one aware of your presence. Fuck, which one was which? Maybe if you let them notice you first, you'd be able to tell. You pottered around the shop, browsing the shelves of different potions and colourful boxes containing all kinds of mischief, trying to attract the attention of the twin stocking the shelf. He looked up with a smirk and instantly knew what you were up to, and he didn't plan on revealing who he was just yet. He knew that Fred would be alright with this, they had discussed it the night before. He can still remember Fred’s words clear as day:
“She’ll love every minute of it, she can be a needy little slut when you give her what she wants”
“I've seen how she looks at you, she wants us both but she likes to act all innocent and pretend that she doesn't”
“You can have her for the night, as long as I get to watch. She’s my dirty little whore after all”
The twin in front of you simply smirked, knowing that with one simple nickname, you’d think he was your loving boyfriend. Getting you into his bed would be easier than Fred said it would be.
“Go on up, Kitten, and wait for me on the bed”
George smirked at how fast you moved up the stairs to the flat above the shop. He finished stocking the shelves before shooting Fred a wink and following you up. Fred had been watching everything. This was his idea in the first place, and he wasn't going to miss a single thing. You always acted so innocent when he talked about George, but he knew how you felt. He could practically see the way your mouth watered when you would watch them at Quidditch practice. He could see the way you rubbed your legs together when they sat either side of you in the common room. Now that you had all graduated, he had promised George a turn with you.
As soon as the shop shut and all of the customers had left, he would go upstairs and enjoy the show.
____________________________________________
You didn't even have time to enter Fred’s room and get undressed before George had come up behind you, gripping your waist tightly and sucking harshly on your neck. His right hand trailed up, practically ripping the buttons apart on your dress to reveal your bra covered tits beneath. He would never get sick of looking at them. When he’d sit next to you and look down your shirt, knowing that all of your attention was on Fred. He couldn’t help himself. George ripped off your bra, groping your bare tits harshly. He listened in on every gasp, every moan, and every whimper that you made, only becoming rougher as he pinched and tugged on your nipples.
“F..Fuck..Freddie…”
George chuckled darkly and tore your dress off, followed by your soaked panties. He pushed you onto the bed, smirking mischievously at the way your legs opened wide, your glistening cunt on full display for him. Poor little slut, George thought, Getting this turned on for her boyfriend's brother.
“On your hands and knees, now”
George growled, pushing his suit trousers down and getting behind you. He ran his hands over your ass before bringing his hand down swiftly, making you yelp from the stinging sensation. But he didn’t care, George seemed transfixed by the way your ass jiggled and the skin turned bright red. He kept spanking each cheek, making sure to leave handprints and a painful memory whenever you sat down.
“Freddie, Please…been so good, please fuck me. Need you so badly” you whined, your thighs rubbing together to give your needy clit friction.
“You’re such a desperate, whiney little slut. Bet you’d love nothing more than my cock deep inside of your slutty cunt. Keep begging, beautiful, let me hear how much you need me” George started stroking his cock to your pleas. He’d give you what you wanted eventually, he’d been dreaming of your tight pussy ever since his brother introduced you to the family. The younger twin suddenly had an idea and pulled your arms behind your back, tying them securely together with his tie.
He gripped your joined arms tightly and rammed his cock inside your wet pussy. The stretch made you yelp in pain and squirm in a (not so) desperate attempt to flee, but George only held you tighter, a cruel pout on his lips.
“Thought this is what you wanted, little love. Don't tell me you can't be a good girl for me now”
His cock was so deep, hitting that spongy spot that made you clench around him and shut your eyes tight. His hands gripped your skin with a bruising force, you were so close…
“Well, well, well, look who’s enjoying themselves” an identical voice quipped, but it wasn't from above you, it came from the doorway.
The older Weasley twin stalked close, making you squirm in embarrassment of being caught by your boyfriend's brother. But he only knelt in front of you with a devilish smirk.
“Guess my little kitten really is a slut for it, huh?”
Fuck
Your eyes widened as everything seemed to click into place. The man in front of you was your boyfriend, the man with his cock pressing deep inside of you was his younger twin brother. A pout spread across your lips, thinking that Fred was mad at you for being underneath George. But Fred simply got up and sat in the chair across from the foot of the bed, getting comfortable but exposing his hard cock.
“Go on Kitten, show Georgie just what a little slut you are. Put on a show for us”
George smirked and snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath from your lungs. He started his brutal pace that rubbed your insides raw. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you buried your head into the soft sheets beneath you. But George wasn't having any of that. He pulled you up by your hair, your back pressing against his chest, causing his cock to somehow push deeper into your cunt. You hissed at the sting from your scalp.
“Such a spoiled brat. Doesn't even say thank you for her lovely surprise” George spat next to your ear, his other hand coming up to lightly smack your face. “What do you say, slut?”
“Thank you, Freddie…Feels s..so good”. Your moans got louder with every word.
Fred pumped his cock, trying to match the pace his brother had set so that he could pretend that he was the one fucking you. But he knew you’d need more, you were his insatiable little slut. Fred simply looked into your desperate eyes and grunted through gritted teeth…
“Cum for me, Kitten”
At his command, you let the blinding pleasure take over your entire body. Your velvety walls clench around George, pushing him over the edge too. You could feel his cum spurt deep inside of you, staining your walls. He let go of your hair and you dropped forward onto the mattress. Fred got up and walked over to your fucked out body and you immediately opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, smiling as you felt his warm, salty sweet cum hit your tongue and lips. You swallowed all that he had given you and licked your lips, collecting every last drop. Fred stroked your hair softly.
“My turn, kitten”
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randomshyperson · 1 year
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Another Love II - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: Being late doesn’t always mean you lost your chance. Wanda might not be yours now, but if there’s something an Eternal can do is wait. | Chapter Summary: Finally, the wait is over.
Warnings: (+16) unrequired love, hints of mutual (?) pining; mild angst with happy ending, friends/team partners, canon divergence, fluff, some tension, language.  | Words: 5.051k
Part One || General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |
-&-
Wanda has only been to London on business before, both for the Avengers and the Coven. It's refreshing in a way, just being a tourist, even if only for the short train ride to the National History Museum.
It was Sersei who revealed to her where you were working. For some reason, and to annoy Wanda's nerves, you were much more distant lately both physically and emotionally than she would have liked. 
The place was crowded and perhaps Wanda used a little magic to avoid being recognized by any of the Avengers' fanbase, making her way unhurriedly to the reception desk. 
She could trace your aura easily but was cordial in introducing herself and following the instructions of where your class was taking place.
Through glass windows, she saw you for the first time in months, and couldn't help a soft sigh escape her lips. With her hands held in her coat pockets in an attempt to have some sort of ground, she approached through the open door at the back of the room.
Your monologue about Mesopotamian constructions was lost in mid-sentence as soon as your eyes met hers. Wanda smiles shyly, and you stand there, adorably surprised.
The teenagers present in the class soon assumed curious expressions at the interruption of your speech, and it was one of the boys in the back who looked between you and Wanda before loudly teasing, "Damn, Professor just got tongue-tied because of the Scarlet Witch!" 
The room exploded into giggles, and you blushed awkwardly, eventually chuckling too as you waved for them to calm down. Wanda smiles coyly at the scene, waiting for you to approach her.
"Thank you for this, Mr.Matthews." You say to the student, nodding to the board. "Finish reviewing the chapter, please. I'll be back in five minutes, no fuss, don't you all forget you're in a Museum." 
You walked over to Wanda, and she tried not to show how she trembled at the gentle touch on her elbow to guide her to the coffee table area, but she didn't do such a good job when you were finally alone outside and you hugged her in greeting.
"It's good to see you, darling." You said, pulling away to hold her shoulders for a moment. Your gentle and tender smile and eyes made her feel warm. "I didn't know you were coming to see me. Nothing wrong happened, I hope?" You asked frowning in concern, but Wanda quickly denied it, offering you a reassuring smile.
"No, I just... I wanted to talk to you. And see you." She confesses with a weak laugh. "Can we go out for coffee after your class?"
"Of course, Wanda. It will be over in a few minutes, you can enjoy the exhibition in the meantime." You say, biting your lip when it looks like you're going to say something else. Wanda swallows dryly, nodding, and you take a chance. "You look breathtaking, sweetheart."
She can feel her face heat up, but she handles smiling in appreciation. "You don't look bad yourself, Professor." She teases with a wink, managing to make you chuckle awkwardly. 
You touch her again, squeezing her arm in farewell before heading back to the classroom, and Wanda thinks she replays the feeling in her head the whole way back to the exhibit.
She is facing an exhibit of Ancient Greece when she senses your presence behind her.
"How many of these artists have you met in person?" She asks interested, and you let out a small laugh.
"Not as many as I would like I'm afraid." You reply with a slight nostalgic sigh. "But I did meet Σαπφώ (Sapphō). She was a rather passionate lover." 
Wanda snorts incredulously, patting you on the shoulder in indignation. "Oh my god, you slept with her?"
You shrug, laughing softly and raising a finger in front of your lips in a sign of secrecy. "Kérkolas, her husband, must be cursing me from the afterlife right now." You joke managing a chuckle from Wanda. 
There is a moment of tender silence between the two of you, the long-time complicity of a long-missed friendship where you just stare at some of the displays around, walking side to side with each other. 
It is amidst one of the statues of Ancient Greece that your gazes meet again and no longer waver away. Wanda sighs and you nod towards the exit, she doesn't even need to think for her feet to start moving on instinct, following you wherever you want.
It is to a closed office that you take her, closing the door as soon as she enters.
Wanda swallows dryly at the gesture of helping her remove her coat, placing it on the support as she moves further into the room.
"Can I get you something to drink?" You ask working on the buttons of the sleeves of the social shirt you are wearing so Wanda understands that you are indeed going to prepare something for her. 
"Hm, sure, you can surprise me." She murmurs, and you offer her a mischievous little smile before walking toward the small bar at the corner of the office.
"Not that I'm not happy about your visit, darling, but I'm getting curious as to why." You comment and Wanda sighs deeply in the center of the room, trying to build up the courage. She keeps her gaze on the tall windows that illuminate the room and doesn't face you when she finally speaks.
"I'm getting a divorce."
You stop the motion of cutting a lemon and raise your eyes to her, your frown frowning in surprise. "Oh. I... I'm sorry to hear that."
She chuckles softly, staring at you. "No, you don't." 
"Yeah, I don't." You respond without hesitation, turning your attention back to the lemon. "Not for him, of course. Even though it bothers me that you're unhappy."
Wanda sighs, watching you prepare two drinks that honestly look delightful. "I'm not unhappy, Y/N." She retorts and you hum in a sign that you are listening. "I guess it was only inevitable."
"You're being a little hard on yourself." You comment with a tiny smile, finally holding two cups in hand, of which one you bring to her. "Tell me what happened."
She nods in thanks for the drink, and you raise an eyebrow as she turns the glass over in one gulp, chuckling dryly at the scene. Wanda grunts softly.
"Shit, that was good." She compliments the drink, and you smile as you see her staring at your cup as well. Without saying anything, you also hand her yours and take the empty one away. At least the second, Wanda tries to enjoy it more. After a sip, she sighs and begins to explain: "Vision took your advice. A little after the honeymoon, he went to visit Shuri. I think Makkari was with them. They talked about the safety of the stone and he decided to do the splitting in Wakanda." She counters breaking into a forced laugh. "And apparently without the stone, he runs out of love for me too."
You swallow dryly at the hurt expression on her face and raise your hand to take the cup away, slowly so as not to startle her. Wanda sniffles and you sigh. 
"I'm sorry about the end of your marriage."
She huffs. "No, you don't."
"I never wanted you unhappy, you know that." You insist firmly on her watery eyes. "And if his love lingered to a magic stone, you know it was good to find out about this early. It's less painful this way."
Wanda huffs angrily, taking a step forward. "How dare you, honestly?" She demands bitterly, but you don't flinch in your attitude. "You have ruined my marriage. I should... I..."
You raised a brow, waiting, but Wanda grunted and walked away, hiding her face in her hands. 
Hearing her cry finally breaks your posture, but you dare not touch her yet.
"I really thought I could be happy with him." She confesses low and vulnerable and you sigh. "How could I be so stupid?"
You move closer, circling her until Wanda can see you again. Your hands find her cheeks and she wants to hate the way her skin warms over your touch, but she can't even be angry about it.
"You haven't done anything wrong, my love." You whisper tenderly, wiping her cheeks with your thumbs. "You are so majestic, Wanda Maximoff. You deserve someone better, you've always deserved more than a machine. I could-"
Wanda pushes you by the shoulders, and you shut up at the fury in her red irises. 
"I'll never forgive you for interfering, you had no right!" That's the last thing she says to you before turning her back and leaving.
The drinking cup ends up on the wall with a throw, and half the items off your table as well. Wanda's coat is forgotten in your office for weeks until you leave this job too.
She won't answer your calls anymore.
-&-
There is a cold breeze passing through Massachusetts that makes Wanda shiver in her armchair. She gets up to close the windows and curtains, and her office is less bright than before with the action.
Candles are lit by themselves as she makes her way to her armchair again. On her desk are several documents to be reviewed: some are magical contracts on parchment because witches have quirks they refuse to lose, and others are printouts as one would expect to exist in the 21st century, some contain the symbol of the Avengers, others of the Kamar Taj.
A knock on the door followed by its opening makes Wanda raise her eyes.
"There's mail for you, Maximoff." Agatha announces with a sneer, tossing the items she holds into the air - which float toward Wanda's desk. "They might be late, no one checks the mailbox in this place."
It's Wanda's turn to grimace. "Thanks, Agatha." She retorts wryly, picking up the cards as soon as they reach them.  Her stomach does a complete turn when she reads the name, and it doesn't get any better when she reads the date. "What the...? Agatha, by god, some of these are months old!"
The older witch shrugs her shoulders, approaching Wanda's table unceremoniously. As the younger one opens the older letter, Agatha wastes no time in checking the newer ones, ignoring Wanda's slap of protest about this.
"Hmm, love letters, how sweet." Ironizes the witch as soon as she opens one, and laughs when Wanda grabs the item from her hand with a tug, the warning does not look very effective on account of her pink cheeks. "It's from Miss Immortal, I imagine."
"That's none of your business." Wanda retorts, turning her attention to one of the old correspondences from one of the Coven contacts that everyone thought had given up on making a deal, but apparently had just been ignored by the witch mail. 
Agatha chuckles lightly. "You know you can't ignore your girlfriend forever."
Wanda huffs impatiently. "She's not my girlfriend! She's nothing really. Just go mind your own business, will you? I'm working."
But Agatha ignores the request, leaning on the table to steal the letter back and fleeing from Wanda's hands before the woman can reach her.
"Please, Wanda, please forgive me. I never had any intent to hurt you in any way or cause you any pain-" The reading is interrupted when Wanda's magic does the work of snatching the letter from the other witch's hand, who falls into laughter. "Wow, you’re pissed off enough to rip an apology letter. What did she do, cheat on you?"
Wanda huffs impatiently. "For the last time, she's not my girlfriend!" But Agatha only giggles at the outburst, which makes Wanda sigh impatiently. "We were friends, and she...is the reason for my divorce."
"Hmm, spill the tea." Agatha makes mention of sitting down in one of the armchairs but Wanda rolls her eyes.
"Stop it, I'm busy." Grumbles the witch. "Thanks to you I just earned months of late work."
"No way, it's not my fault that most supernatural creatures don't trust the internet." Agatha retorts as she throws herself on one of the couches. "Every Winter Solstice is a real hell, with so many wolves on the loose and the council bothering us with the safety of mortals..."
Wanda sighs. "Agatha, I'm busy." She repeats, receiving a roll of her eyes in return as the other begrudgingly stands up.
"You know what, Maximoff? You need to get laid." Declares the other causing Wanda to choke in indignation, her ears burning. " Yes, you heard me! You've been a nervous wreck since you took over the leadership of the coven! You don't leave this office for anything and stay working all day, not even joining our festivities! And all this time you have a hot immortal sending you sex letters? It's truly absurd that you're still here." In complete shock, Wanda stares at her. Agatha grins at her expression. "My mortal years were the most fun, you should enjoy them as well. You are the Scarlet Witch, Wanda. One of the most powerful cosmic entities in the multiverse, you are going to have many centuries to focus on work, but your mortal life is only one. You should pay her a visit."
Wanda sighs in defeat, nodding in concordance after a moment. Agatha smiles in victory, and while the other searches for her cell phone, she risks spying on other letters.
"I have to admit that she sounds a lot less terrifying in these passages." Agatha comments as she reads again, ignoring Wanda's protest and continuing to talk. "She scared the girls off when she was here last year, and I heard stories about her strength. But reading this, I think she's just a simp." Jokes the brunette but Wanda doesn't laugh, looking at her with a frown of curiosity.
"She was here last year?"
Agatha snorts through her nose. "Of course, she was, silly." Replies the witch as if it's obvious. "She came as a diplomatic action between her people and ours, full of questions and agreements. It started out well, but you know how witches are. And in general, we don't trust strangers. It ended with her intimidating anyone who threatened to harm you, I believe."
Wanda felt her face warm and stared at Agatha in disbelief. "She... was here for me?"
The other chuckled again. "By all the holy ones, Maximoff, you are impossible! Where do you think I got the impression you two were a couple from? 
Wanda opens her mouth but doesn't know exactly what to say. She babbles something about being married at the time and Agatha laughs in disbelief. "Please, as if a piece of paper means anything to someone like her." Ironizes the older witch. "Especially the union with a microwave." She mutters the last part, but Wanda listens, grimacing.
"Don't talk about him like that. I loved Vision truly." Wanda says but that only brings a glint to Agatha's eyes.
"Hm, ‘past tense’? I think the Immortal one has a chance..." The witch fell into laughter as Wanda tried to hit her with an energy ball, ducking just in time. "Listen to someone who has lived as long as I have. You need to get laid."
"Agatha I swear to god I will use violence-"
But the older witch raises her hands in surrender and finally leaves the room, laughing all the way out and down the hall.
Wanda sighs at the empty room, the cell phone that has been turned off for weeks in her hand. 
She can do this, she repeats to herself. It doesn't have to be weird. She can call you and ask you for a drink and it doesn't have to be anything more than that. You have been friends before.
“This number is offline or out of range, please try again later or leave a message after the tone-”
With a frustrated grunt at the fourth attempt to make contact, Wanda returned the cell phone to her pocket and marched determinedly out of the room. She wouldn't be stopped by technology from finding you, not a chance. If Agatha didn't know how to help, two speedsters probably would.
-&-
The loud music almost made her turn around. It was a generic but addictive electronica, and it was so blasting from the speakers that even before she stepped through the portal she opened to get there, Wanda could already hear the noise that the vast majority of the neighbors in the area of that Spanish nightclub could as well.
Makkari was courteous enough to tell her where you were last seen, going so far as to joke that if Wanda couldn't find you at this party, she should try the next bars down the street. Wanda couldn't laugh at the joke, her stomach suddenly wracked with strange guilt as she heard stories about how your last few months had been spent on intense partying that wasn't at all typical of your behavior, and that had a lot to do with a fight you haven't told any of your friends about, but which Wanda remembered every detail of as if it were yesterday. Makkari tried to comfort her, saying that every Eternal has their period of dissatisfaction with immortality and that parties are a good distraction, but it didn't help to know that not even her best friends were sure of your current location or state of health.
Wanda tried to be positive about the reunion, but as soon as she entered the crowded nightclub, and with the help of some basic telekinesis, she reached a VIP area with clearly magical people, she didn't feel much at ease. And there were you too, in all your melancholy glory sitting on a leather couch watching a gambling game with two beautiful girls practically sitting on your lap.
A security guard made mention of stopping her entrance, but red irises stared at him for half a second and it was enough for him to make room for her to pass instead.
She noticed your lazy eyes, dilated pupils, and easy smile, and hated the hand on the thigh of the girl on the right as if she were suffering the greatest of betrayals. Wanda knew she had no right to feel this way, having been the one to fight with you, to blame you for the end of her marriage, and to have ignored all your attempts to apologize, but this is exactly the way she does feel.
You lean in, whispering something dirty enough in the girl's ear to make her blush and close her legs, and Wanda loses patience.
"Makkari was right. You truly hit rock bottom." She mocks in a tone loud enough to be heard throughout the entire backstage, the music slightly muffled by the walls in the rest of the club. All eyes turn curiously to her, but yours are the ones she's looking for, and they take almost a full moment to focus. Your relaxed posture doesn't change, but your smile fades.
"Look who decided to show up." You returned with a certain coolness that made Wanda swallow dryly. "Greetings to the legendary Scarlet Witch."
Each individual in the room turns their face and greets her at the same second, the hypnotized chorus of 'Hello, Wanda' makes an eerie shiver run through her entire body. She doesn't have time to create any theories about the whole scene, because out of a curtain in the background comes a figure she doesn't know as well as the other Eternals.
Druig's presence is a complete surprise to her. Wanda remembers well all the disagreements you two have had and the stories she has heard about the past. So finding that Eternal in a fancy, expensive suit, controlling an entire nightclub by your side is not exactly a predictable situation.
"Wanda Maximoff, what an honor to meet you again." He comments as he moves closer to kiss her hand, taking on old customs with natural ease. His hand remained holding her for a full moment, and Wanda understood it to be a warning. The attitude made her blood boil. But when Druig turned his attention back to you, he was smiling. "You didn't tell me old friends would be visiting you, sister."
You locked your jaw. "Don't call me that, Druig." Was your warning, detaching yourself from the grip of the girls beside you without any trouble to get up. "And stop trying to scare Wanda. You wouldn't stand a chance with her. Nor with me, brother."
A wicked smile played on the man's lips, but he remained with his hands behind his back and nodded in understanding to your statement. You exchanged a quick glance with Wanda and it was enough for her to follow you to what looked like a balcony of the chamber, which provided a view of the magnificent capital of Barcelona.
As soon as Wanda was beside you at the edge, you gestured back, creating a transparent wall in the doorway to prevent snooping. She recognized the privacy spell and kept to herself the realization of how cold and twitchy your magic felt, very different from the last time she felt your presence at the university in London.
"Why are you here, Wanda?" You asked her immediately, with no patience for small talk. 
"I called." She returned without caring about the aggressiveness, her hands clasped tightly inside her pockets, seeking some warmth in her own jacket to protect herself from the cold night. Not so long ago, you would have wasted no time in offering her a scarf, or taking any action to warm her, and the lack of friendliness and nurturance made her shiver more than the cold. "Makkari said-"
"I can deduce exactly what she said, thank you." You cut her off with a certain impatience. You didn't keep your gaze, rummaging through your pockets for something until you pulled out of your jacket a silver bottle marked with the Asgard symbol. Thor had one of those, and Wanda knew immediately that it was a traditional drink. The way your fingers were trembling made her understand that this would not be the first sip of either Asgardian liquor or an earthly drink.
"I wish you were sober for this conversation."
You chuckled, short and ironic still with your gaze on the bottle you were opening. Your laughter lingered during the big gulp you took, and when you looked at her again, you commented, "You were always funny, Maximoff. Truly enjoyable company." Your gaze faded to the landscape, nostalgic and hurt, and Wanda sighed.
"I didn't come here to fight with you, Y/N." She tried again, though dissatisfied with your distant posture, still determined to set things straight. "But I was surprised to find you so..."
"Miserable?" You complete for her with a weak laugh, still looking out over the city. Wanda swallows dryly, and you sigh. "Don't martyr yourself. No matter how devastating the broken heart feels, it always heals."
"I'm sorry." She declares softly. "I never meant to hurt you."
You clear your throat, pulling away a little to look at her, and with the posture you assume, Wanda almost feels physical walls between you.
"You didn't come to Barcelona for an apology, Maximoff. What happened? Is it something with work?" Your frown is gently worried, but the insinuation irritates her.
"Do you really think I wouldn't talk to you for so long just to show up asking for work favors?" She retorts but you don't flinch.
"I don't think anything, Wanda." You retort indifferently. "I've stopped having expectations of you, or anyone else. That way I avoid being disappointed."
"Is this you or Druig talking?" She challenges, and instead of hitting a nerve, you smile. 
You bring the flask closer to your lips, and whisper, "Always too quick for me, clever girl." before drinking and accomplishing a small smile from her.
"I mean it, Y/N." Wanda insists, though softer than before. "I want to apologize for the last time we saw each other. I shouldn't have blamed you for the end of my marriage, nor put down your attempts to fix things between us."
You study her face for a moment, finding only sincerity in her eyes. Then you sigh, and finish all the liquid in the bottle in one gulp. Wanda opens her mouth to say something, but you interrupt her.
"When was the last time you had fun, Scarlet Witch?"
She frowns, hesitantly. "I'm really not in the mood-"
But you grabbed her hand, grinning. "Don't be boring, Maximoff. We were friends before any of the drama. Come, I'll show you how the Spanish celebrate life."
Since becoming the Scarlet Witch, Wanda had gotten better with crowds because of her job. Still, it was a little hard to be inserted into a fair of bodies squeezed inside a lounge with vibrant colors and loud music. And your hand pulling her close, spinning her around as your body moved against hers to the synchronized beat wasn't helping her nerves at all.
But eventually, Wanda felt all the tension dissipate within the songs - only to be replaced by an equally suffocating feeling. Your hands roamed over her body as your hips slammed together and Wanda found herself unable to think of anything else but you.
She spun again, one last time before you grew tired of ignoring your own will, and grabbed her face, your mouth against hers.
Wanda choked on her own breath, and the world stopped for a whole moment. All the sounds, and all the people around just disappeared. You kissed her and that was all that mattered in that second.
But you let go before she could respond the way she wanted to, and the look on your face made her swallow dry.
"What's wrong?" She whispered half breathlessly against your lips.
Your hand was warm against her cheek, and when you moved it away, Wanda almost let out an audible protest at the lack, her body practically tumbling towards you, begging for your touch.
You shook your head in the negative, turning and moving further into the crowd and Wanda almost lost sight of you. 
The people around seemed to hinder her path to you, but a glimpse of the red glows and the hall cleared a path for the witch. If Wanda began to use her powers with more confidence now, Agatha Harkness had a strong influence on it.
You went outside the nightclub, and Wanda realized you must have spent some time dancing because the street was much emptier than before.
With a hand on your chest, your breathing labored and your shoulders tense, Wanda realized you looked like you were on the verge of a panic attack.
"Hey, darling, talk to me-" She reached up trying to touch your wrist but you pulled away. Your back was turned so far but when you turned around, Wanda saw that your eyes were filled with tears.
"Don't you dare." You raise a finger towards her, gasping and emotional. Then she falls silent immediately, gulping dryly at the fury in your gaze. "You don't... have the right, okay? You just can't."
She sighs, taking a step forward. "You're the one who kissed me."
You chuckle in disbelief, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Fuck you, Wanda."
"How classy." She sneers to which you only shake your head.
"You did this to me." You retort determinedly, gesturing to yourself. "Look at me, Wanda! I'm a mess! I'm sick! You've carved your way into my heart, and I can't live without you! Do you even realize what you've done? Do you even care?"
Heart racing, Wanda opens her mouth but the intensity of the confessions has left her speechless. She has no chance to speak, however, because you continue.
"Seven thousand years I've been on this earth, and I've never felt like this. Who gave you the right? I'm not made for it, I don't know how to... deal with it. This pain, this lack. The longing... I can't do it, Wanda." You gasp. "I was fine without you! I was working, sticking to my mission. And then you came along and ruined me for good!" Your hand pulled her close again, your forehead resting against hers. Wanda waited and waited for a kiss that never came. Instead, you held her hands against your chest. "Take your love away, Wanda. I don't know where to put it if I can't dedicate it to you."
She smiled tearfully, brushing their noses together. "I haven't lived that long, but I will, my darling. And I want it spent with you." She whispered, holding on tighter as you look at her doubtfully. "I will only take your love with me if I can leave mine with you."
"Wanda-"
"Stop babbling and kiss me for once, you drunken fool." She cuts you off, and you don't waste another second. 
You think all those centuries were worth it for this moment. Wanda kisses and kisses you, and can't believe she resisted this for so long. That she dared to marry another when she could have had this.
You let out an audible moan as she sucked your tongue and she was grateful for your hands around her waist, for she would have slipped to the floor.
When you broke apart, panting and flushed, you stood with your faces very close together.
"You should have married me." It is the first thing you say, and it draws a hearty, husky laugh from the other.
"There's still time, I suppose." She retorts, shy about the look of adoration she catches the next moment. She swallows dryly. " I'm sorry I hurt you before."
You shake your head quickly. "I hurt you first, I know. I should have told all the others to go to hell and run away with you when I had the chance."
She giggles, pleased that you recognize the past. Your mistakes too, not just hers. But none of that mattered anymore now, and she told you so.
You decided that enough had been said and that words could be left for tomorrow.
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Text
The Senior: A Night in a Hotel Room
(The last Re-Upload)
Chase and I continued our interesting relationship after the events that took place after the choir concert. But the holidays are always a busy time, even during school. I had projects to complete and so did Chase, our daily routine of me giving Chase’s underwear a pull died down for a bit. I did get him a couple times. One time during a break at our choir practice, I yanked his American Eagle trunks up his butt when we were alone in the church's library. Oh man, that was so hot. His jeans were so tight that day, and he was wearing a maroon sweater.
He looked like the preppy guys I'd always jack off to that I wish I could wedgie, and here I was. wedgieing him. What made it even better was that he liked it, and I knew it.
               Before the holiday break I got to wedgie him one more time. Chase had recently joined the speech team, and I was also on the team. I’d like to believe that he joined the team so that he would have more reasons to spend more time with me, but it probably was one of many reasons. He did a great job in the musical and participating in speech is like participating in judged theatre. So, the cast members and teammates encouraged him to join, so he did. As a member of the team, we were required to work the tournament that our school would host. But Chase was also very good at playing the trumpet so during the day of the tournament he wasn’t available because he earned a spot in the All-Region Band. So, he stopped by near the end of the day and his job for the day was to deliver flowers that we were going to put on the table with the trophies for the awards ceremony. He texted me to help him bring them in. I met him at the loading dock as he was pulling in. Now, the wedgie that I gave him as he was getting out of his front seat was a unique one. He got out and I somehow managed to just grab the waistband without digging for it. His Blue and Red stripped American Eagle boxer briefs went right up his ass. I tugged his leg holes past his dress pants waistband, and as the tug reached its height I said “sup”, and immediately snapped his white waistband to his back.
               “Come on” he said, surprisingly annoyed with his wedgie.
               “What did you expect? You asked me to help” I said.
               “With the flowers?” he asked as he was walking to the trunk of his car while simultaneously picking at his underwear. At this point I'd wedgied him so often that he no longer would go out of sight to adjust himself anymore. He would just pick outright in front of me. I found that hot. It was unexpecting how hot I found that to be.
“Well, sorry I'll hold off on the wedgies, I got those”. I lifted a box of flowers and walked with him into the auditorium. We were alone as we were arranging the flowers, but since the stage was so big and the curtains were down, we had no way of knowing if anyone else was there. So, it wasn't the best time to try to give Chase another wedgie. We continued working quietly getting everything all set up.
               I didn’t see Chase until after the holiday break. We texted each other though, he was very good at keeping the text conversation going. It wasn’t all about wedgies. We discussed books and movies that we were both currently reading or watching. Our families. He was very present to listen to my problems. At the time my high school theatre department were prepping auditions for that years play competition. This was the closet that theatre departments in high school got to competing with one another like sports teams do. The point of the competition was to take a play, any play and cut it down to no longer than 50 minutes. My theatre teacher took this play very seriously, taking a lot of time for us to read the play in class, analyze it and audition for roles. There were 16 people in the class and only 7 roles. There was a specific role in the play that I thought I'd be right for. The role required for the actor to be able to play a young prince who may or may not have had an affair with a prince from another country. The point of the role was that you never knew for sure if the characters were gay or not. I was obsessed with the idea of possibly getting the chance to play this role, I memorized scenes, I actively participated in discussions about the play in class. I made it obvious to my theater teacher that I really wanted the role. Being in the cast for this specific play in the theatre department basically marked you as someone who is a top actor in the school.  I knew I was good, but there were a lot of other guys in the department that were older and talented too. But the other kid that was my age in the theatre class Micah, was in the competition play last year and he had the experience and could very well be cast in this role. It shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did, but Micah was the top of our class, and he participated in theatre because it was something that he could put on his college apps. His family were very devoted Christians which isn’t a problem except for the fact that he would argue that the role I wanted wasn't a homosexual. He would argue this because he knew that if he was cast in the show that it would be in that role and he clearly felt that it was against his religion, so he was trying to find a reason to be able to play it.  I’d say I was straight, but I knew that I wasn’t. But this role spoke to me, especially at that time and if I got it, maybe it was the reason that I needed to give myself permission to accept myself. I really wanted that part.
               The weekend that the cast list was supposed to be posted, my speech team was away at a speech tournament six hours away from home. The prelim rounds went okay on that first day and Chase and I were placed in the same hotel room for the night with twin brothers that were specifically on the debate team. So, that night after the speech kids were done with their rounds, the debate kids were going to remain there till late. The hotel room had two beds and since the twin brother debaters would obviously sleep together in one of them, I was going to sleep with Chase in the other. And not only that, I was going to get to spend a lot of time alone with Chase in a room with a bed
               When Chase and I got back to the hotel room, I went ahead and took a shower. We had a long day of traveling and both Chase and I had been in suits all day. I brought my sweats and tank that I would sleep in the bathroom with me and showered. When I got out of the bathroom with my sleep clothes on there was Chase, standing at the closet in only his boxers. He was hanging up his suit, after taking everything off. Though I've wedgied Chase a lot, I had never seen him without his shirt, and staring at him from behind I immediately noticed the smoothness of his shoulders. Chase wasn't muscular in the sense that he looked like a Calvin Klein model, but he was close. His butt in those boxers were very nice as well. The boxers were navy blue, obviously American Eagle because there were multiple Eagle logos al over them. He turned around,
               “Hey, my turn’ he said.
               I must have not been hiding my looks of intense lustful admiration because his lips slowly curved to a smirk, and he flexed his chest and hell.  He didn’t have a six pack, but his chest was hot, nonetheless. He didn’t have a lot of hair, but there was some that formed a line from the bottom of his belly button to the top the waistband of his boxers. This was the first time that my thoughts went to the possible size of his dick under those boxers. I can't remember for sure, but I was probably hard. Chase started to walk across the room.
               “I know what you're thinking, don't do it” he said as he walked by me to go into the bathroom. I quickly turned around after he walked by me. He stopped walking and turned his head slightly.
               "You can’t help it can you?” he said.
               “I guess not” I replied as my hands slowly gripped his boxers.
               I tug slowly. This was my first time giving a wedgie with the other guy not wearing pants. The more I tug the more I see Chase's ass. It was firm and the more his boxers went up his butt, the harder my dick got. I drop his boxers and gently tap both of his checks with my hands.
               “Enjoy your shower" I said.
               “Thanks” he said walking into the bathroom.
               He stayed in there for about ten minutes. When he came out of the bathroom, he had pajama bottoms with multiple XBOX logos on it. He was still wearing the same boxers that I had just wedgied, but the only way I could tell was that he was sagging his pajama bottoms slightly. But I only had a moment to observe that because he ran at me and jumped on me on the bed.
               It happened very fast. I can’t remember the specifics. But we were basically wrestling, He was the senior and he was obviously a lot stronger than me, but I gave it my all wrestling wise. He pinned me in headlocks and to the ground. He was a lot stronger. But Chase and I had different end goals. His was to pin me to the ground, mine was to pull his boxers up his butt again. I got his boxers a couple of times in the struggle, but not enough to really count the wedgies I gave him legit. But there was one moment when I ended up on the top of his back. My ass was sitting on his head, and I had to have been tea-bagging Chase as I gripped his boxers in both of my hands. I was also fully hard by that point, and there was no way that Chase didn’t know because my bulge was bulging into his shoulders. But his boxers were in my hand, and I started pulling. Pulling with all the strength possible. Chase was moaning but from pleasure or pain I couldn't tell. I successfully pull one mare strong pull and I heard a slight ripping sound. I snap his boxer’s waistband onto Chase’s back, and I roll off him.
               “Fuck, man that was the best wedgie yet” Chase said standing up with his hands in his,
butt fixing his boxers. I stayed laying on the bed breathing heavily.
               “Damn man, you sound like we just fucked” he laughed.
               I laughed that off, at at that moment a feeling of intense shame came over me. I hadn’t cum but I was close. What did those feelings mean? Why do wedgies turn me on? How can I keep this up? It was clear after today that I had extreme lust towards Chase. After seeing his body, smacking his ass, and wedgieing him like I just had.
               “Everything alright man?” Chase asked as he sat down at the front of the bed. But before I could say anything there was a knock on the door.
               I went and answered the door, and it was Lexi. She was one of the strongest actresses in the theatre department. A shoo in for the lead role in the competition play. She was texted the cast list for the competition play and wanted me to see it. I didn’t get the part… or any part in the play. Micah got the part. Lexi said that she wanted me to know because she didn’t want me to have to wait until Monday to see the cast list myself, but I think she wanted to tell me because she was (and still is) a world class bitch. I walked back into the room and crushed, I just started crying, I had never been more disappointed. I didn’t get the role that spoke to me and my true sexuality, and here I was crying in front of the only guy that I had ever had strong feelings for. Chase was very nice. He asked me what was wrong, and when I told him he didn't try to console me. He was just quiet as I laid down on the bed,
               I must have cried myself to sleep because one moment the lights were on, and the next they were off and there was an arm around my shoulder. It was Chase's. I looked over at the other bed and saw that it was still empty. The twins weren’t back yet. I twisted my body around and there was Chase, with his eyes wide open staring at me. He said nothing and we continued just looking at one another. I wanted to kiss him, and I was positive that he wanted to kiss me. But we didn’t kiss. But what I did feel was a hand gently placing itself around my groin. Chase's hand was over my sweatpants, and he slowly put his hand into my sweats and then, into my boxer briefs. Upon impulse I reached in a removed his hand from my pants. But still staring at him. I let go of his hand. I then proceeded to stick my own, hand in my pants. I gently surrounded my dick with my fingers, and then slowly started lifting. and lowering my dick. I did this while continuing to stare at Chase. Chase decided after a couple moments that he would follow suit. He lifted the covers and stuck his hand in his boxers. We continued touching ourselves while still looking at one another. This was a new experience for me, jerking off with someone else in the room. I found it to be a very exhilarating experience. Someone else looking at me and jerking off too. I couldn't see his dick, and he couldn't see mine. That seemed to make it even hotter. We tried to keep rhythm with each other. I don’t know how long we did this, but I do remember that we didn’t climax at the same time. Chase came first, and I followed about ten seconds after. There were no words spoken during or after except for our moans. After we were done, we put the covers back on and just laid back down in bed together. I started crying again, but it was weird. There was so much sadness in my tears, but also a little comfort in the fact that in that singular moment that I was not alone. I cried gently but was surprised to feel Chase's arms wrap around my body, holding me tightly. We laid there spooned into each other. He was there holding me tightly not letting me go as slowly drifted off to sleep.
I think back to this night often. We were both in the closet at the time, and we were both not ready to admit to ourselves that we had these strong feelings. We just had this strong night together. if we were able to let ourselves be open to each other that night, maybe we would have gone farther in our sexual explorations. I did wish I kissed him that night. I wished that I let him touch me, blow me. I wish I could have seen his whole naked body, and that he could see mine. That night was more than just a wedgie fetish. But regardless, I am still grateful to what we did that night because it was a part of my story, and it was truly one of those moments when I realized that I could be attractive, that I could be desired, and that I won't always have to be alone.
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gideonisms · 2 years
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top 20 characters in tlt who might agree to officiate my wedding ranked by how likely I am to let them:
20. Ortus. it's not a wedding it's a poetry reading now
19. Ianthe. I don't know how this wedding would go or whether it would end up with a marriage or even with all of the guests still intact. Would be interested to find out
18. Mercymorn. She hates you, the concept of marriage, the idea that someone somewhere might be in love, and ceremonies longer than 5 minutes. She Will let you know.
17. cytherea. She shows up in a gown fancier than yours and faints dramatically halfway through
16. Augustine. It could not be more apparent he doesn't give a fuck and he's judging you
15. Wake. your wedding is an excuse to get all your friends in one room so she can destroy them. That said, the speech is pretty good
14. G1deon. he has some interesting ideas about love but he doesn't mention any of them. He gives a brief clearly rehearsed speech you can tell he's put together from a google search
13. Pash. Her speech is mostly swearing and at one point she gets out her knife to gesture
12. Judith. The vows are perfectly correct. It is the stiffest wedding you have ever attended
11. John. Listen the wedding ITSELF would be fine if a bit casual. it's the reception you don't want him to attend.
10. Gideon. She cannot help putting on the gideon nav show on your big day. She puts her own distinct spin on the traditional vows but you're not repeating any of that
9. Pyrrha. she definitely will throw multiple inappropriate jokes in there and/or say something wildly bleak in a cheerful tone. But the rest is so heartfelt you can't be mad at her
8. Camilla. The speech is three sentences long but somehow we are all crying
7. Magnus. He's going to cry. It's going to be lovely but he will cry
6. Alecto. I don't think she'd do a good job but I think the ceremony would be memorable for years to come
5. Coronabeth. she'll pull out all the stops to make it a special event but she may or may not flirt with everyone involved
4. Harrow. The upside is she's so used to holding ceremonies that she can do it in her sleep. She will say the correct thing at the correct time and the wedding WILL happen, but the overtone of impending doom in her speech might kill the vibes
3. Marta, I think she'd show up looking very professional, give it her best shot, and add a bit of humor at the end
2. Palamedes. His enthusiasm is apparent and he's probably officiated a lot of things, only downside is he may or may not ramble a bit
1. Abigail Pent. Assuming she agrees with the wedding I think she'd do a lovely job but if she thinks we're not good for each other we may be back to square one
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thissying · 1 year
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Christian Horner about Max in Formule1 magazine, October 2023 issue You've worked with several top drivers. How does Verstappen compare to the 'greats' in your opinion? As a team we've had a great and successful period with Sebastian, an exceptionally good driver. Of course there have been more extraordinary drivers. Since I saw guys like Ayrton Senna when I was a little boy, I haven't seen anyone like Max. Michael Schumacher did similar things at the time, but what Max is showing is truly phenomenal. Did you recognise his talent from day one, like adviser Helmut Marko? Max continues to amaze us. He's only 25 years old, but by now a veteran. He uses that experience, it gives him an advantage. He uses his head more, but he's still got that pure speed and skills that he had when he came here as a 16 year old boy. He's merged all those elements in a brilliant way. Besides that he's just a nice guy and fantastic to work with. Fame and fortune hasn't changed him at all: he's the same Max Verstappen. He's just a more adult version of himself.
A leader within Red Bull Racing. Absolutely. Everyone looks at him, he's the leader in the garage, in the team. Because of how he drives, because of the results he gets. Everyone walks just a bit faster for him, goes just a bit farther. Because everyone knows there's usually a reward in the end. In that way, he's a great motivation for everyone. No, verbally he's not loud or exaggeratedly present in the garage. I mean: he's not giving a speech every five minutes or something. But when he says something, people listen. Max is just one of the guys, everyone appreciates that he isn't a diva. The British and the Dutch share a good sense of humour; there's a lot of laughter in the garage. Because you have to enjoy your work. And Max does, he fits perfectly in the team. Does that make working with him easier?Max is one of the most straightforward drivers I've worked with. No bullshit, or anything. You know where you stand with him. He's a professional, comes in and does his job. He gives a hundred percent and expects the same from others. […] What specific things does you appreciate in Max Verstappen as a person? With his family and Raymond (Vermeulen, his manager) he's got a close-knit group of people around him. And the team as well, I think. I think he feels safe and at ease in that environment. He's the same boy he was when he joined us. Whether it's at our home for a barbecue or at Silverstone: he always enjoys playing with the kids. Max is genuinely a really nice guy for whom family is the most important thing, too. Demanding, difficult to work with? Totally not, Max is actually very predictable. You know exactly what you've get with him. Max doesn't do politics, just does what he says. And he expects the same from the people he works with. He's direct and clear, that's how he was raised. He's always on time. I've worked with drivers who kept to their own time-table… Not Max, he knows why he's here and he always delivers craftsmanship. Do you often have discussions with him? To be honest, no. And if there is a point of discussion we talk openly about it. I don't believe in the conflict model. If there's something you need to get off your chest or have an issue, you sit down together, talk about it and try to resolve it. Is your relationship with Verstappen different from his with Marko? Helmut is a bit like Max's grandfather, the older wiser man. Their relationship is bit more personal, I'd say. They get on well, are both straightforward. Max is just less traditional in his thinking. Helmut is Red Bull's adviser, responsible for the talent program and obviously very proud of Max's achievements. My relationship with him is a bit more operational in nature: how the whole team functions, how Max functions with in the team.
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hikaritakaishi · 4 months
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Digimon Adventure 02: The Beginning [My Movie Review]
♡ ! SPOILER ALERT! ♡
This review will contain spoilers of the movie, continue reading if you already saw the movie, or just don’t mind the spoiler! Enjoy & comment something if you want to share an opinion! ♡
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After what seemed ages of waiting, Digimon Adventure 02: The Beginning finally aired in Portugal, on May 16, 2024, several months after it’s national premiere in Japan, on October 27, 2023. I was worried that it wouldn't come to my country, but perhaps due to the huge acceptance of Digimon Adventure: LAST EVOLUTION KIZUNA, the distributor made the hearts of the DigiDestined from the most hidden corner of Europe warm again and brought us the sequel. Thank you remembering us once again! ♡
I really tried to keep my expectations as neutral as possible until the day I went to see the movie, which was pretty difficult, due to the fact that I was constantly being bombarded with online information about it, whether on Tumblr or Twitter, or through video recommendations on Youtube. I was so excited for the movie, that I had to control myself immensely not to go see the spoilers.
Initial considerations? I like it. In general. But let's go in parts!
This will be an analysis of what I consider to be the most important points of the movie and what caught my attention the most. A personal analysis, so don't take it too seriously if I don't talk about a certain point or a certain specific topic, I probably just missed that.
Firstly, I would like to comment on the initial dynamics of the movie.
Everything seems to happen much faster here than it did in Kizuna. Despite being two movies with practically the same time span, this one seemed to go by much faster. But it might just be me. [LAST EVOLUTION KIZUNA have 94 minutes, and The Beginning have 87 minutes total].
 We're introduced to the key plot problem pretty quickly too.
People's digital devices are glitching, and the same message is repeating itself on all of them, not just on the phones and televisions, but on computers and large digital screens in cities all around the world. And this all around the world is very important, because it not only brings us closer to what will be the future of humanity and it’s increasing contact with the Digimon and the Digital World, but it opens the path we take since 2012 [time of the movie] until to the epilogue of 02 (which the production team and Toei animation seem to insist on wanting to keep canon, despite all the script inconsistencies it can cause, or how different from the initial profile of each character it may be).
“May everyone have friends, may everyone have a partner Digimon”
It's the message. Meanwhile, we are told that a suspicious and unknown Digitama appeared in the sky of Tokyo, right above the Tokyo Tower, and it’s been there for a while. Taichi and Koushiro are showned to be trying to help resolve this issue as professionals in the field of diplomacy and technology respectively, but without major progress.
I think it's important to highlight that they are the only two characters from the first season of Adventure who appear in this movie, and even so, without any direct speech or great relevance, beyond contextualization, and later Taichi as well again for the context of “space- time”, in that frame we see in the trailer of the movie with Hikari, which we later discover is located in Hikarigaoka, where Rui also lived when he had his first contact with Ukkomon.
The focus is on the characters from 02, or at least, it should have been. But as in Digimon Adventure Tri, this focus is overshadowed by the introduction of another new character in the story: Rui Owhada [or Lui, in Japanese pronunciation].
Rui [or Lui] is a much more charismatic character than Meiko was in Digimon Adventure Tri. There is no doubt about that.
Meiko was a somewhat empty character. A static character without great charisma. The only pleasant scenes she had were driven by the other characters around her (namely Mimi).
Rui doesn't. Rui is a character on his own. With a much more aggressive personality and a much more interesting past. The only issue here is the length of the movie: This movie is too short; too short for us to get attached to this character and actually be able feel empathy for everything we are shown about him. So short, that it's difficult to develop both this new character and the others around him, which, by the way, is a shame.
I mostly went to see the movie in hopes to see more from the 02 cast, and not because, again, of a random character they created for this new script. Just like what happened in Tri.
And this is important because notice that one of the most complex and best-built characters in the Adventure universe is literally the character with the most screen time: Takeru.
Analyzing Takeru's character as a whole is extremely time-consuming, because he was in every season, and practically involved in all the main events of the plot, either by himself or through the relationships he establishes throughout the plot, which feed the character's emotional charge. Which makes him a very complex character.
There's no time for that here. There is no time to establish a relationship between Rui and the other characters, nor to establish a relationship between Rui… and the audience.
Rui's childhood is very shocking and once again, Digimon brings a very strong narrative based on a complex and deep family plot.
We had already had examples in Adventure of family issues with Takeru and Yamato, Koushiro, and in 02 with Iori and also Ken. To a certain extent, even with Miyako. But here we reach a higher level of complexity... and violence (remember that the age to see the movie is over 12 years old. I can totally understand why).
Rui is physically abused and neglected by his mother, who leaves him out in the cold, starving when he makes a childish mistake or does something she doesn't like... when he is only four years old. His father has a very serious illness and depends on his wife to survive. Rui is then shown as a sorrowful child, lonely and without any support network. We've never had anything in the Digimon Adventure series so… raw. The aura of the movie is deeply heavy and dark.
The evolutions and battles in this movie are far from being the focus, which probably frustrated many people who went to see the movie for this more dynamic side of the anime.
It is a film with a moral content and even touches on the philosophical, about the bonds we create with others and their nature, about how we should relate to others and learn about them every day we have them in our lives.
It's about healthy communication, and how it's okay to correct the people around us, as long as it's made based with pure intentions. Because love is not omissive. Love corrects, love draws the other's attention for what really matters, in the form of love. In the form of companionship. Nothing physical or superficial is worth the price of a real bond.
The movie really grew with it’s audience. It is not, at all, a movie targeted for new fans of the franchise, or for those who know little about the Adventure series universe. It's for those who know the characters, for those who grew up with them. If you don't know the characters, you will miss details and conversations that are important to really understand the plot as a whole.
Daisuke and Ken look on Rui’s past with him. They see the arrival of Ukkomon in his life, who should’ve bring peace and comfort, but it is only the beginning of all his problems.
Let's take a break from the movie's plot to talk about the characters of 02.
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I'm going to divide them into groups, because it seems like they individually… don't have much progress or very memorable scenes, honestly. It doesn't even make sense to separate them, in my opinion, and you'll understand why.
♡ Daisuke & Iori
There is not much to talk about them here. Daisuke and Iori are the flattest characters in the movie. Iori much more than Daisuke, let's be honest. Iori barely speaks, and has very few relevant scenes.
Daisuke works at a ramen restaurant, as he always wanted, where he gathers his friends to talk about the problems they are facing right at the beginning of the movie.
His personality is practically the same, Daisuke from 02 is the same Daisuke from The Beginning, and even the same character as in Kizuna, he is just taller here and wears different clothes. He still aspires to have his own ramen business and is extremely focused on his career goals. Which was predictable, given the way he talks about his dream in 02.
Daisuke's only two relevant scenes are seconds long: the first when he convinces Rui that the bond of friendship he and his Digimon partner share is much more than something superficial; it's something that comes from the heart, and that no object makes a difference between them, namely the Digivice, (something we also expected to hear from Daisuke in 02, which justifies my opinion that in the meantime... he remains the same).
The other is a scene that had enormous potential, but is cut short by a comical moment in which Miyako pops up.
Daisuke is talking to Ken seriously about Rui, and how he and his Digimon could understand each other better if they just communicate more effectively and directly, and Ken comments that Daisuke's more serious side is very pleasant and rarely appears. However, Miyako speaks up and dismisses the subject. Sadly.
We could have had a conversation here that could tell us more about Daisuke’s presente self and way he sees life now.
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*sigh* Anyway.
Iori, again, doesn't speak much. Seems to only have intermediary interventions, and serves as a “pair” for Daisuke and Rui in the snowball fight that we see at the end of the movie. A very beautiful scene, don't get me wrong, but only if we see it from the perspective of Ken and Miyako, and Hikari and Takeru. I'll talk about that now.
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♡ Ken & Miyako
Ken and Miyako are two characters who seem to grow more together than apart within the movie's plot. Which is natural, given that we know at the end of 02 that they become in fact a couple, and that they build a family together in the future. Here we see the first steps towards their future as a couple.
As expected, nothing explicit or direct is given to us about the nature of their relationship, but we can understand that there is progress, especially by the end of the movie, before the snowball fight, when Miyako tells Ken something that seems extremely vague, but actually means something.
 “Let's do it together! "  What? I don't think they are aware yet. Ken also seemed very confused about it.
“ Keep thinking Ken, we have to find another solution. “ We also see Miyako trying to support Ken at that moment when they have to make a decision about the future of Ukkomon and the world.
Here comes what I said above: Love cannot be omissive. We cannot expect the least from those we love. If we know the potential of the person we have by our side, we have to support them. If we see that they are trying to go further, we must support their journey and be a source of advice and rest. Alone we can go faster, but with the right company we can certainly go further.
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And I think this is where the movie touches on something really important.
It is in these small moments that we see that they really want to tell the audience something beyond, but we need to have a fine power of perception.
No conversation or comment is random, everything contributes to the story. Digimon Adventure has always been made up of metaphors and subjectivities, it is necessary to know how to interpret and be attentive.
In the midst of that dilemma of whether or not to defeat Ukkomon that we talked about a moment ago in relation to Ken and Miyako, we have another moment that I consider important between Takeru and Hikari, which for those who don't know the characters, can take it as a normal conversation of two people who know each other well. Too well, even.
♡ Takeru & Hikari
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Keeping in mind their journey, and everything they went through together, is the key to understand the nature of the relationship they share now. But before that:
Much like Ken and Miyako, Takeru and Hikari do not exist separately in the plot. It's ridiculously difficult to separate them. If you talk about one, you have to talk about the other.
At the beginning we see them together in the city when the electronic devices break down, and this dynamic continues throughout the entire movie.
They practically always walk side by side, Hikari takes the front seat in Takeru's car, and even when they are talking to Rui and trying to understand what happened to him in his past, they were a nucleus apart from the others. Nothing new, really. More of the same. But it's in that conversation I spoke about earlier that we understand something that is even part of the main moral of the movie: the way they now communicate with each other now, is different.
Anyone who has followed Takeru and Hikari throughout the series knows that the main “problem” in their relationship has always been direct communication.
Exposing things to others as they are is scary. And none of them were good at doing that.
Deliberating about feelings, exposing what disturbs us, what distresses us, what we think of a certain attitude of the other person. That was always Takeru and Hikari's problem and what hindered the possible evolution of their friendship, into a real love relationship.
In Tri we discover that Hikari starts to look at Takeru differently. And we know that Takeru has concrete feelings for Hikari (Said by the actor who plays Takeru's voice) And then? It's done? Things… are much more complicated than that.
They first need to accept the situation in question (And I tell you this as someone who also developed a romantic relationship with a childhood friend. It's not easy. Trust me. It's far from easy!)
And far from being quick.
It requires a lot of deliberation mostly. Just accepting the fact that we see that person we grew up with differently, someone who has always been part of our life, and we can lose them. Just because we developed feelings. Is scary. There's a lot to lose. It's all or nothing. Especially when one side has trauma associated with romantic relationships. (remembering that Takeru's parents are divorced) it's even worse.
What seems to exist between them in The Beginning was the result of a long process. But effective, it seems to me. Whatever decision they made, it went… pretty well.
Takeru is completely against defeating Ukkomon, from the moment he realizes that this could also imply the disappearance of his Digimon partner.
He probably saw the suffering Taichi and Yamato went through when Agumon and Gabumon disappeared and the suffering he would go through if he lose Patamon... again. And he is extremely vocal and firm in what he says and what he thinks about all of that. Impulsive really.
Until Hikari intervenes. Which cuts through his catastrophic reasoning. She asks him to think, opening up a new perspective on the situation.
Here we have a conversation between them that is quite lengthy (compared to the fast action standard of the rest of the movie) in which Hikari tries her best to make Takeru use reason and not emotion in his deliberation on the situation.
Takeru who, remember, whenever “darkness” or “sacrifice” is mentioned, leaves his rationality aside, becomes blind with pain because of his past traumas.
Hikari's role here is almost the same as Miyako’s in Ken's case: calling to earth and calming Takeru, always in an understanding way, because you can see that she knows where that feeling comes from and that position initially adopted by him (and it is something which she can almost predict would happen, by the speed with which she responds) but she knows that he is better than those triggers that make him impulsively speak based on emotion and neglect reason.
It's about getting to know each other. Knowing how to talk to our person about the most difficult topics. Because it is necessary to strengthen your union. Predict reactions, and be there to calm them down, because you may even know that the person is not to blame for the feelings and traumas they carry, but believe that they are bigger than them. And expect the same from the other side.
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The way Miyako knew that Ken could find a solution, he just needed to think a little more. Hikari understood perfectly where Takeru's impulsive reaction came from, but she knew that if she appeal to his racional side he would be able to think of a better alternative to the problem, which he thought would be the end of the world.
That's why I separated this analysis into groups (although the first one isn't... substantial) and decided to analyze the characters together, because that's what this movie is about.
It's about who you are with your people, and the bond you share with them. In a world so individualized, so selfish and so distant (largely because of technology, which distances us from each other), I found it a very necessary message.
And the role of adults? With children and more painful lives?
It is to understand that children are also humans. Who also think, and feel, and understand things. Just like them. Adults tend to forget that they were once children themselves.
We already saw this topic being developed in Adventure 02, but seeing Rui as an adult, reaching to his mother in the past, and drawing her attention to the fact that she neglects her son, is something very touching. Sometimes, we just need a wake-up call, and we can change the future. Ours, and our future with others.
 The DigiDestined of 02 encouraged Rui not to give up on someone he loved, Ukkomon, because after all, he only acted the way he acted because he thought it would make Rui happier, even though he failed. Several times.
Ukkomon basically gave Rui everything he thought he needed, everything he wanted. But this is not always ideal.
He acted with his partner's happiness in mind, and this blinded him to the risks he was putting him into. He idealized their entire relationship, and everyone's relationship with him. Instead of being, real. And real things are never perfect.
Rui wanted friends? He gave him friends. He even reprogrammed his parents. They became manufactured humans. And the movie is about reality and accepting it as imperfect as it is.
Do you know what that reminded me of? That whole fantasy created by Ukkomon of “perfect world where Rui is never sad and everything is wonderful?” The fantasies in which the characters from 02 cast were trapped in at the end of the series. That world created with the characters’ deepest desires.
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Takeru wanted his family united. Iori wanted his father back and to be able to show him the Digital Word. Miyako wanted attention. Ken… wanted to redeem himself. Hikari wanted peace. It's exactly the same thing.
Think about it with me: For example, Takeru's parents could’ve stay together, they could never have divorced, but they would still have problems. They would argue, and there would be conflicts. Which doesn't mean that this wouldn't traumatize their children even more. Maybe the divorce was in fact the best option for all four of them.
Ken felt he deserved the same suffering he inflicted on others. Would that really be the answer to appease his soul?
But none of it was real.
Not even Hikari's utopia of a world constantly at peace is real. Not even the absence of siblings in Miyako's life would solve anything. Things are not black and white and really, what we want is not always what we need.
Rui just needed to talk to Ukkomon and be sincere.
Where is Mimi tho?!
I will end with a few quick notes that I think are worth highlighting: First, the music and animation in general. As expected, they are excellent.
Very well done visually, appealing scenes, and the last snowball fight scene is so simple… but so delightful.
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Life is made up of beautiful moments as well as tragic moments, light and darkness.
Did you notice that part of the movie takes place in a much dark environment, and when the main action is resolved, the movie gains light? I believe that is not just because!
Visually it can be very strong because there is blood, there is violence, there are physical wounds, it conveys the affliction in a very literal way.
Another thing that was expected to happen, but that probably wasn't even thought of properly when the Epilogue of 02 was made, was the problematic of whether or not everyone deserves, has enough morals and ethics, to have a Digimon partner.
How do you maintain peace between humans when you give them free access to machines of war and mass destruction? How do we build the world we see bz the end of 02 where everyone lives in peace even under these circumstances? Which is the the role of the government?
We'll probably need one more movie to find out.
Honestly, I hope you enjoyed this short (not... that short in fact) and sincere review. If I were to give stars, I would give the film 4/5 stars.
It could’ve been better, sure, if there was at least another half hour of animation.
But I don't complain. Despite that, I liked it. I cried, I laughed, just like I cried and laughed when I saw Digimon in my childhood, and that's everything for me. I was surprised by the message of the movie and the way they chose to visually convey it to us. Either way, I hope there's one more movie. To finally conclude the arc of all these characters, and finally, reach the epilogue of 02 (but in a dignified way please).
♡ Thank you once again Digimon ♡
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saintmeghanmarkle · 1 month
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Harry making controversial statements about British social unrest and online censorship: Why it is dangerous for them to have titles by u/snappopcrackle
Harry making controversial statements about British social unrest and online censorship: Why it is dangerous for them to have titles From the Daily Mail: "Prince Harry takes veiled swipe at Elon Musk after Southport riots: saying 'what happens online transfers to the streets in minutes. People are acting on information that isn't true....In an ideal world those with positions of influence would take more responsibility."The British family is supposed to represent all Brits and avoid divisive topics, and Harry is starting to take sides. (The riots occurred because 3 girls were killed at a dance class by a non-indigenous Brit). There have been race riots in Britain going back at least to the 1970s, long before social media and the internet were invented. So saying that they wouldn't have happened without the internet is a stretch.This post is not about the riots or their cause (so please no debate about them), but that Harry is wandering into the murky territory of political speech, choosing sides and pouring gasoline onto an already volatile situation. People are being imprisoned in Britain for tweets, even for sharing tweets, while rapists and murderers get let go early. The country is on edge and he is using it to promote his non-royal money-making endeavours. This is why they can't have titles. If they were saying these things as Mr and Mrs Windsor, no problem. But they are saying them as Prince/Duke and Duchess while on a pseudo royal tour to a foreign nation....It is only a matter of time before he says something that will go over the line and trigger a diplomatic emergency or cause outrage and further unrest in the UK or Commonwealth. Not everyone wants to live in a despotic tyranny where the leaders take "responsibility" by shutting down speech and the right to protest government policy.Also there is the hypocrisy that they want to crack down on controversial speech by the general public, while using controversial speech themselves. https://ift.tt/9lmiXR5 post link: https://ift.tt/UidtYM6 author: snappopcrackle submitted: August 16, 2024 at 09:56AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.
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Was I the AH for making a joke no one told me they didn't like?
This happened back when I was 12.
I was pretty... not popular, but friends with a lot of semi-popular figures in a certain fandom. I know you aren't supposed to be on social media until you're 13 and all that, but it was a good while ago [2019ish] and I was a kid who never made friends IRL.
One of my friends [16, I think?] had a delusion [it was a diagnosed disorder they had and told me about, if I remembered I would tell you, MAYBE OSDD but I think it was something else] that they were one of the characters from the show the fandom was about.
I had other friend groups into the same show, and I would often make jokes "pretending" to be one of the characters [usually just posting a memed up version of a screencap and mimicking the speech pattern of the character], which would land well and make them laugh, so I saw no issue using this joke around the friend with delusions [who I'll call Lucas]. I only did it twice.
The first time I didn't notice anything different, but the second time they started treating me like this character [who I later learnt but didn't know at the time Lucas recalled having memories of being in a romantic relationship with]. Lucas was the only person I knew who had these types of delusions, so I didn't know what to do and just went along with it until they, uh... "snapped out of it", I guess?
Soon after, I was added to a group chat with a few other people. All of them were 16, except for who we'll call Dawn, who was 12 or 13, and who was the leader of their whole group. I'll call the other people Rosa [someone who I had gotten in a huge argument with before for a reason I don't remember but I think she started it and I overreacted, if this was about that it'd probably be YTA or ESH, but I apologized and we didn't really talk anymore], and Nate [someone who I hadn't ever talked to outside of a large group setting]. Lucas was also there in this group chat.
They were staging an... intervention? They were basically making me explain my actions and were telling me how I was a horrible person for "tricking Lucas into thinking I was this character". Lucas wasn't very responsive to the situation, and I was pretty sure Dawn was the one who orchestrated the whole thing and roped Lucas into it, maybe as a confidant or something like that. Rosa brought up how awful I was to her before, and how she never forgave me even though I thought she did. Nate also brought up how "aggressive and violent" I was, citing one of the only times I had talked to him [which I thought was just a funny way to greet someone, akin to like "*knocks a door off its hinges and it explodes everywhere, I take several minutes trying to put it back together but it clearly isn't done well* Hi guys"], using a screenshot he had taken MONTHS prior and had been saving for that moment, he told me.
I was supposed to go out shopping, so I couldn't keep on checking my phone without my parents getting suspicious of me. I was also hyperventilating and kept on having to take breaks to make sure I didn't freak out. I kept on trying to reply to things in chronological order, and they were getting more and more progressively upset. I told them the first part about my parents getting suspicious, and one of them even told me that "your parents should know what kind of sick fuck you are, maybe then you'll understand your actions." Eventually, we DID go shopping, and I couldn't reply for several hours.
When I got back, Dawn and Rosa had made several call out posts on their social media each, and I had several DMs from other people about it. I couldn't read the posts, and all I did was deactivate my account. I couldn't post art I had done online until about a year ago, couldn't even think about the show until a few months ago when my friend wanted to try it out, and I still can't go onto that social media platform because it makes me so nervous and I can't breathe, afraid that someone will recognize me even now and "expose me". Lucas wanted to keep in touch, but they were a bit clingy and only came to me when they were having mental breakdowns. I couldn't handle the constant reminders, so I eventually deleted their number.
Note: while I am very safe about my identity online, these people [at least Dawn, since she said how old she was before me and even showed pictures of herself in cosplay online before, she WAS very 12] did know what age I was [I had lied about it before then to other people].
I still feel really bad about this, and I was wondering if I really was being an asshole. Maybe I was just being biased because I was the one being persecuted? I don't know. Maybe I was the AH because I was suffering from the horrible illness sweeping the nation called being 12 years old?
I'm sorry if this is a little silly, but I'm 17 now and this is still a part of my past I'm ashamed of.
Could you tag this post "12 year old confrontation" so I can find it? Thank you. Sorry, again.
What are these acronyms?
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sergeantpixie · 8 months
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my thoughts after watching the sixth episode of the Artful Dodger
1. Gaines can’t chill for like one minute, can he?
2. “the only fit response would be to fill my pockets with stones and walk into the sea” “sea’s that way” 🤣🤣🤣
3. Hetty taking charge bc all of the doctors are out getting trashed, HELL YEAH BABY GIRL
4. “Hetty have you eaten anything at all?” “no time” someone take care of my girl 😭
5. “i’d run away like your wife” JACK WAS READY TO THROW HANDS BUT BELLE IS A SAVAGE
6. “lady bloody cheekbones” why do ppl who dislike belle have the best nicknames for her tho
7. RED, MY QUEEN
8. can’t believe they walked into a cupboard to argue, not makeout 😤
9. “do you think you’re frightening? well you’re not.” there’s something about her that is so fucking electrifying, that speech gave me shivers
10. “are you going to kiss now?” franny is all of us tbh
11. “all right then, silver spoon, don’t mess it up” “i don’t think i can do it alone” “you’re not, i’m here” my three girls together in one scene, i am being blessed
12. “what are you going to do captain? hang her corpse?” YEAH BELLE!!!
13. “thievery is still thievery” “your family are the biggest thieves in port victory” YOU TELL HER RED
14. THEY DRANK THE PISS
15. belle booping franny on the nose was so unexpected and sweet
16. KISSING IN THE STREETS
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princeescaluswords · 1 month
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Not Hard to Say You're Sorry
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I've heard it before and I heard it yesterday: Parts of the fandom don't like Scott McCall because he never apologizes for what he does. It's a common argument. However, it's not true. I would argue that Scott shows he's sorry all through the show by actions more than words, but that might be a little complex for people looking for a reason to hate a minority lead protagonist. So, lets just list the times he literally told someone he was sorry about something that happened in Season 1. This list is restricted to the precise word: "sorry." (Note: I just realized I've done this before. Well, if at first you don't succeed ...)
Wolf Moon (1x01)
Says “sorry” to Allison for touching her cheek without permission.
Says “sorry” to Coach for interrupting his speech during tryouts.
Says “sorry” twice to Stiles for losing his temper when Stiles tried to cancel his date with Allison
Says “sorry” to Allison for ditching her at the party.
Second Chance at First Line (1x02)
Says “sorry” to Chris three times for getting hit by Chris’s car.
Says “sorry” to Allison twice for running away and for acting weird.
Pack Mentality (1x03)
Says “sorry” to Deaton twice for being one minute late.
Says “sorry” to Allison for being bad at bowling.
Magic Bullet (1x04)
Says “sorry” to Allison for his phone interrupting their time together. 
Heart Monitor (1x06)
Says “sorry” to Stiles for being distracted thinking about sex while Stiles is talking about anchors.
Says “sorry” to Stiles for realizing he’s in love with Allison.
Says “sorry” to Derek for his second howl being so loud.
Wolf’s Bane (1x08)
Says “sorry” to Jackson insincerely, pretending not to know Jackson is accusing him of a werewolf
Formality (1x11)
Says “sorry” to Allison for trying to get her to laugh when she’s being serious.
Scott apologized sincerely at least 16 times in Season 1. Again, this isn't counting the times he tried to make up for his mistake such as when he let Stiles beat him up or brought back Allison's necklace to her. These are only the times he said the word "sorry."
He wasn't the only person, of course. Many other people said they were sorry, though some of them were insincere. Here's a list in order of numbers.
Allison Argent: 10
Stiles Stilinski: 7 (1 insincere)
Alan Deaton: 4
Melissa McCall: 4
Chris Argent: 3 (1 insincere)
Jackson Whittemore: 3 (all insincere)
Kate Argent: 3
Garrison Myers: 2
Adrian Harris: 1
Peter Hale: 1 (insincere)
In direct contradiction of fandom's statement that Scott never apologizes, at least in Season 1, Scott told someone he was sorry as much as the next two characters combined. What is also pretty weird is that the fandom darling, Derek Hale, never said the word once. (He'll say it insincerely in Shape Shifted (2x02) when he's flirting with the night desk deputy).
Want me to go on? I can! Or, maybe the parts of the fandom so riddled by unjustified hate for a minority lead protagonist might want to watch the show again.
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1eos · 10 months
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While I completely agree that Ao3 sucks it's a little funny to post like this on Tumblr. Who also has a zionist CEO. Who also allows antiblack/otherwise racist content and actively blazes it. Who suppresses the Palestine tag. Who banned NSFW content because they hosted so much CP the authorities got involved. I'd say the only difference between these two websites is the amount of people who vocally support the bad policies. I promise you someone could upload their slavery raceplay fanfic from Ao3 to Tumblr right now and not a thing would be done about it because it isn't against their TOS.
i can't believe you did this unironically and expect me to take you seriously
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here's a question ik you can't answer. what website WOULDN'T it be funny to post? twitter? elon musk is an apartheid child encouraging hate speech. hell he was JUST in Israel. youtube? they've had years of taking down/suppressing videos that mention anything abt lgbt rights. youtube JUST took down a massive archive of israel human rights violations in palestine. racist white supremacist can have massive platforms on there and be PROTECTED if they're big enough. twitter alternatives? any of the ones that brag abt freedom of speech literally are overrun with racists/neo nazis. livejournal? half of us on tumblr were traumatized by fucked up fanfiction on there when we were 16. so, pray tell, what website would be good enough for you? hmmmmm it's almost like zionism is VERY pervasive and every platform is rife with fucked up shit 😳 which is why normal ppl tell you to STOP buying checkmarks and premium. ohhhhh but that's not good enough for you :( so tell me what website should we be posting complaints on? oh but even if there is a perfect website we're still in a fucked up society so i guess it would still be funny to you huh? like do you see how stupid you sound 😭😭😭😭
anyways now if i had 30 checkmarks you'd have a point but i don't so now we're all abt to make fun of you for being a fucking idiot. did you get the embarrassment? did you get the mockery? did you get the little rush of adrenaline when you hit send anon and when you refresh my blog every 20 minutes waiting for a response? is your heart pumping fast? do you feel special? do you feel smart?
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