#but that's complicated; and takes time and care and thought and effort and connecting to marginalized people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moondirti · 2 months

Text

big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

#i ran out of steam towards the end could you tell #ghostsoap #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader #ghostsoap x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x johnny 'soap' mactavish #call of duty

2K notes · View notes

satoruhour · 6 months

Text

LESSON NO. 1

a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3

wc: 2.1k

“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.

the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.

always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.

a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.

but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.

although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.

“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.

“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”

gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.

the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”

nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”

geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.

“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.

he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”

geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.

at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.

“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.

“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.

“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”

“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”

suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”

the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.

“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.

“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”

you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”

suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.

he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.

now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.

silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”

“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.

“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”

your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”

the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”

this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.

“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.

but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.

“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.

“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.

“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”

“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.

the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.

“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.

it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.

you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.

the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.

suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.

@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟

764 notes · View notes

bakugoushotwife · 8 months

Text

kinktober day thirteen: somnophilia kink

>>> y'all i worked breeding into the plot again officer take me away!! i just love soft and domestic sho, and it also totally feels like something he'd love!!

>>> starring: shouto todoroki x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: fingering, oral (fem receiving) somno, breeding, reader hates working lmfao, creampie obviously, mating press. >>> wc: 2.6k >>> event masterlist

shouto loves relaxing. he was sure this was something everyone enjoyed, until he met you. you seemed to stay occupied at all times, delving into hobby after hobby to keep yourself busy. being professional heroes was draining enough, he thought, so why were you indulging in running clubs and extra gym sessions? why did you spend more time learning new recipes and anxiously cleaning the house these days than lounging in bed with him watching tv like you used to? of course, his first assumption is that he has done something to push you away or upset you, as he’s prone to doing. he’s naturally aloof and a bit distant, all things he tries to push past to connect to you, the only person who makes him feel warmth were his coldness usually lies. you know how he is, how he can come off a bit frigid and almost mean without thinking about it, or how he struggles to read your body language and cues—always missing the hints you throw him. you’re used to it by now, far more accommodating than a grown man like him deserves, so he figures this time he needs to get to the bottom of this and make it up to you and prove he can be in tune with your emotions too.

you had grown restless, but it wasn’t all your husband’s fault. you felt so out of place these days, feeling awkward in your own role in life. you enjoy being a hero some days, other days you can hardly motivate yourself to get out of bed. work had become monotonous and meaningless, the streets of japan were safer than they had been in years past, so most of your days were spent patrolling and training if they weren’t consumed in paper work. you felt stagnant, and things were only complicated further by your conflicting emotions. all your friends from school were retired to spend time with their families or in the process of retiring to go home and take care of their parents or kids—and then there was you. a family would be…perfect, but it was a touchy subject with shouto and you didn’t want to press the matter just because you needed a change in life. so yes, you started tinkering around with hobbies to try and get your mind off of things, knowing you had accepted the possibility of not having children when you agreed to be his misses todoroki. he hadn’t taken the possibility completely off the table, but you knew he wanted to broach the subject whenever he was ready. so you started using the home gym a little more, picking up books your girlfriends recommended, even working on your cooking skills all in an effort to feel something other than bored.

you didn’t associate your issues with shouto, still acting as normal as possible in other regards other than your drifting away. you really didn’t think he’d notice given the lack of emotional fluency he had, hoping if you could replace the void growing within you that everything would go back to normal and you could be as happy as you were five or ten years ago. but he had noticed, of course. he missed his wife alongside him, but it wasn’t his fault that he had trauma associated with family and was unsure of himself as a father. it certainly wasn’t his fault that when you got married right out of high school you hadn’t cared—knowing that you love him either way. this is still true, of course, but back then you hadn’t imagined you’d feel this way, this tired of the life you worked so hard for. so ready for the next chapter, especially as ochako welcomes baby midoriya number two and you’re left in charge of the elder brother at the hospital.

the little boy was only about four or so, absolutely adorable and the image of his father. he was a giggly kid, clinging to his “auntie” with excitement to meet his baby brother or sister. ochako called as soon as she was sure she was in labor, and you dropped everything to go support your closest friend, not that you needed an excuse to leave work early anyway. shouto was still working, of course, as a top five hero he was often kept busy. but that left you to wrangle the toddler on your own. it was way easier than you expected, even with the energetic little boy bouncing all over the waiting room waiting for his dad to come get him. he still conversed with you and ate his lunch like a good boy—though that’s because his parents were so good at raising him, but what would you expect from them?

all the day proved to you was that you weren’t just making up solutions to your problems, having a family really is what you want. but still, you love your husband more than this want, so you’ll double down on your hobbies until you find something that sticks.

he reads your texts over and over, waiting on you to get back from the hospital. he had set up a date, truly romantic when he tries to be, and when bakugou answers his calls. following his advice, he had your favorite dinner made and the dining room table was intimately set. ochako had her second baby, and that threw a minor wrench in his plans even lthough he was overjoyed for them, and for you for being their dependable friend in that moment. he sits at the table, all the food keeping warm in the oven as the wax of the candles starts to wane. he had flowers, wine, all the things he knew to try and connect with you and get to the center of your sleepless nights.

when you walk in, he stands, smiling sheepishly. you smile back, though it doesn’t reach the entirety of your eyes. then you notice he’s guarding the table, and you creep closer. “hey, honey.”

“welcome home, sweetheart.” he nods, stepping aside to show you the lovely dinner scene just for you. your heart melts a little at his effort, knowing it was always a great show of his love to do something like this, much preferring cuddle sessions and shared showers over grand displays of affection.

“aw, shou.” you pout, giving him a big hug, “this is so pretty, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you giggle like everything is normal. he hums in thought, slender arms holding your waist as he stews over what to say.

“you’ve been distant as of late.” he says without a trace of malice or disappointment. his words catch you by surprise–he did notice. he lets you go, pulling out your chair and tilting his head for you to sit. “why?”

you clear your throat and sit, any charade you wanted to drum up crumbling in your brain. you can’t lie to him, but how could you approach this without feeling like you’re betraying his trust and wishes. you sigh. “i… i’ve just been trying to find new hobbies.”

“you’re hardly sleeping, and i feel like i never see you anymore.” he frowns, making his way to the oven to retrieve the dinner the chef made. “what is it really, sweetheart? do you feel as if you cannot talk to me? is it something i’ve done?”

you chew the inside of your lip as he assembles food on your plate. “i don’t enjoy hero life anymore. i’m ready for the next chapter, to feel important for other reasons.” you reply, not wanting to make him at fault for your whirlwind feelings as of late.

he takes in what you say, smart enough to connect some dots. the picture you sent him of you holding baby midoriya in your arms and big brother proudly sitting on your lap was the happiest you’ve looked in some time. “the next chapter…as in, motherhood?”

you look up at him, studying his mismatched eyes for a hint of how he feels. you sigh, “i know, i know. i guess that’s why i’ve been a little withdrawn…i feel bad about it, i know what you want.” you chuckle sadly, sipping at the wine provided. “really, i’m trying to get over it, i guess. maybe we could get a dog?”

now he was disappointed. not in your desires, but that you put his possible feelings above your actual ones without ever speaking to him about it. just like you, he had changed as well. he wasn’t the same unsure eighteen year old he was when you married him, and though he still held trauma from his childhood, he had long accepted the concept of being a father since you were by his side. he could do anything if he was with you. he cuts into the meal and gives you a sympathetic glance.

“you should have told me. a family…i think i’m ready for that, if you’re saying you’re ready to stay home in that way.” he hums, knowing you wouldn’t put yourself in harm’s way after becoming a mother. you gape at him, replaying his words over in your head.

“wh–i don’t want you to do it just for me.” you double down, blindsided by his revelation. had you really put yourself through all of this for nothing?

“i would do anything for you.” he replies instantly, and he meant that with no restrictions. “but i had considered it again around the time izuku welcomed his first.”

“meaning you were ready four years ago?!” you almost cry out just from the shock alone, and he chuckles softly.

“not ready to have one then, but i knew i would want some eventually. now is a good time. we’re stable. you made me nervous.” he sips at his wine, eating his food nonchalantly.

“i made you nervous? i–” you sputter, still grappling with the fact that shouto was more than willing to try for a baby.

“i thought i messed up, you were drifting from me. i wish i had known all you wanted was a child.” he hums thoughtfully, a full plan coming together in his head to comfort both of you. “and you haven’t been getting enough sleep for weeks, so i’ll make sure you get both tonight.”

you took that to mean that he’ll fuck you to sleep, another thing he’s prone to do at times. so you shower and meet him in bed, trying to repress your giddiness. you didn’t notice the devious smirk your husband gave you as you sink into his arms. he pulls the blankets over you both, leaning in to give you the routine kisses before bed, and then he turns over like he’s going to sleep.

you look at the ceiling in the dark with confusion. did he forget or change his mind?

“you have to go to sleep before i’ll give you that child, sweetheart.” he speaks into the night, making your heart pound with a mix of frustration and intrigue and warmth at how he cares for you, as worked up as you were for him now, you groan and turn over. your brain is quiet as it’s your heart that races for once, and eventually you’re able to drift to sleep.

he waits a few hours to make sure you’re good and asleep, his whole plan would be ruined if he woke you up. shouto loves you more than anything, and he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was worried. you had to be well rested, especially if you hoped to give him a baby after all. so only when he hears your quiet snores and deep breathing does he scoot closer, gently positioning you on your back. you dressed in a little nightgown in anticipation of him anyhow, so it was easy for him to locate your waiting bundle of nerves. he rubs you carefully, drawing small circles over your hood as you squirm the slightest bit beside him. he slides his fingers down to the familiar hole beneath, nodding at the feeling of slick appearing, your sweet body was responding to him. he crawls between your legs and carefully pushes your nightgown up over your chest, completely bewitched at the sight of your nipples perking up and goosebumps covering your perfect body.

he thinks it’s almost ridiculous to think he wouldn’t want children with you. you’ve been in his life since his ua days and no one knew him like you did. you were someone so clearly meant to be a mother, it would be a crime not to give you the family you deserve. he easily parts your thighs, massaging and kneading the thickness he finds there as he lowers his face to your slick cunt. he’s always so gentle, but no time more than now as he hopes to remedy all your problems in one fell swoop like a good husband should. he laps at your center, angular nose bumping against the sensitive clit nestled above until he can hear your breathing change. he didn’t think he’d like it this much, but knowing that your body responds to him even subconsciously has his dick growing in his pants. you taste just as good as usual, growing wetter against his face with every passing second. he slides his fingers in, needing to know when you came. you spasm around the digits as his mouth focuses your swollen clit, and he knows you won’t take much longer. he may need his time understanding emotions and the like, but he knew your body like he knew his own. a few more flicks of his tongue over your nub and pumps of his fingers tickling your insides has you unraveling, and even in your sleep you look majestic cumming on his face.

he shoves himself out of his boxers, admiring the way you still jerk when he presses his his fingers to your sensitivity. he draws your thighs around his slender hips, angling his pretty cock to your folds. he nuzzles the length along your folds to coat himself despite the pre oozing from his pink tip, taking a second to enjoy that sight in and of itself. then he sheaths himself, careful not to hiss too loud. you feel amazing, clenching him so tight even in the r.e.m stages of sleep, it’s almost too much for him to process. this was the first attempt at a baby, a family he never imagined himself having until he married and matured with you. it’s intoxicating, really, the way he rocks his way into your waiting pussy, silky walls guiding him in and out without any resistance. he has to bite down on his lip not to grunt and moan at how you feel, promising himself that he’d stay quiet and fill you to the brim. he pushes your legs to your chest, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. you only pant softly as he draws in and out of you, figuring this deep angle would be the best for his seed.

all you did was follow his orders, getting the rest he demanded in exchange for his cum, even though he really won in the end. getting you to sleep, getting to see your body recognize and beg for him, getting to shove his cock deep and impress himself on your womb was more than a fair trade. a soft grunt slips past his lips as his hips stutter. his balls feel unimaginably heavy and then they don’t, his heavy load being fucked even deeper by the determined man you married. even when his warmth pools around his own dick as it goes soft inside you, he doesn’t quit, rolling his hips until he’s too sensitive to continue.

he’s the one that doesn’t get any sleep that night, watching you sleep with his seed tucked in you only inspired him to take breaks and keep pumping you full, resigning himself to rest hours later when he can’t possibly cum anymore.

#kyleewritesmha #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #shoto todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki #mha #boku no hero academia #todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki smut #shouto smut #shoto smut

726 notes · View notes

moonlightshaiku · 11 months

Text

Oops!

Spock x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: second hand embarrassment, puke

Ao3: N/A

Notes:

I just like the idea of accidentally giving spock a vulcan kiss, okay????

Tag List:

You knew that Mccoy's response of "Well be more social, then," was a result of him being busy. Not paying attention. But, you'd taken it to heart.

Being alone in your room so often had tanked your mental health. Introverted or not, part of "self care" is letting out your thoughts and feelings.

You can't help but think that self care is too complicated. Hygiene in itself is a fifty point list.

The best plan you had was to introduce yourself to someone. That in itself is difficult. There are too many options and techniques.

It was hard when it was just humans—or at least, mainly humans—back on Earth. But in the Enterprise? With even more races and cultures? Squeezed in? Together?

You enter the lift, blandly speaking out your destination. It's only when you notice the shoes next to you, shining, that you realize you have a chance to just— do this. Get it over with.

The anxiety swells in your throat, and you can't help but think it's not worth it. It'll take so much effort, and if you don't say anything, they'll never know.

"Good morning!" You chirp, before you can put to much thought in. It's much more gruff than you meant. You realize, as you swallow, that this is the first time you've spoken today.

You almost wonder if they're going to reply, but then you see a hand.

It barely takes a second to connect the dots. A handshake! Easy.

In your excitement at the ease of this venture, you bring your right hand to meet their left—and—oh.

Wrong hand. Your hands are touching. Theirs is straight, yours across it. Your ring and little finger are touching the side of their hand, your thumb tucked over their's.

You glance up at them, you don't make eye contact.

Your first two fingers presses against their last.

His last. His last two fingers.

He's male.

"Oh sorry, wrong hand!"

A Vulcan male.

He's Spock.

"Oh shit."

You jerk your hand back.

"The crude wording is not needed, Lieutenant-Commander."

"Spocckkk." You draw out through your teeth, voice high pitched.

"Yes?"

The doors open, no one is there.

"I am. Fuck, I am sorry. It wasn't— fuck, sorry."

The door closes. The lift remains still.

"I didn't mean to—" you take a breath. "It wasn't my intention to—" you pause.

His eyebrows raise, your heart beats faster.

Can he report you for harassment over this? It was just a handshake— be pretty fucked up if he could.

It would be pretty fucked up if he couldn't, too. Damn.

He probably should report you.

He won't.

"Kiss you?"

The words feel like bile in your mouth.

Or are you about to puke?

"That's not a question. I did not mean to phrase that as a question." You attempt to repair quickly. "I did not want to kiss you."

Oh that sounds plan rude!

"Or, er— you know what I mean."

You blink at him. How long have you been talking?

"Are you done, Lieutenant-Commander?"

You stay quiet, and after a few moments, you realize that it's a genuine question.

"You can— you can call me Doctor. And yes. Sorry."

He nods. "Doctor. It was a mistake. It is of no consequence, and does not alter my opinion of you."

You nod, anxiety not fading. You do, however, remember to breathe.

"Can I make it up to you?" Is your timid reply. You find that Spocks eyebrows can reach impressive heights.

"I suppose so. However, I do not see a reason that 'making it up to me' is needed."

You let out a breathy chuckle after a long moment of silence, and it does good to ease the tightness in your chest.

"Okay." You breathe. "When... do you have time?"

Spock doesn't take any time to think. "Tonight would be sufficient."

You nod. "My quarters."

He nods.

"Okay, you'll probably have to add another bead, so it'll fit. Let me—" you shift closer to him, taking a look at the bracelet in his hand. "—look at it."

It's only slightly too small for him, now. He'd decided to use the small glass bead in an elaborate pattern of rust, royal blue and copper. You had used the large plastic beads, and jokingly put an S bead on the bracelet. Baby blue.

"I do not see the point in making bracelets, Doctor."

You laugh. He's been happily putting beads on a string. He'd taken around ten minutes just choosing colours.

"Only idea I could come up with, really. Part of human culture."

You lean over, shoulder bumping his. "Okay, that looks good. Can I check it?"

Spock's eyebrow twitches. "Yes. That is agreeable."

"Alrighty." You gently grab each end of his bracelet, and he sticks his hand out. You bring the bracelet up, cupping his wrist like a U.

"Huh." You huff, scooting forward. "Okay, yeah, that's good. Want me to tie it?"

You glance up, making eye contact with Spock. The green of his face makes your eyebrows crease, but his face stays impassive.

He nods.

You promptly begin tying the bracelet, tearing your gaze away from his.

Once you have it double knotted, you reach over to the table, retrieve the scissors, and grab his hand.

Once you've snipped the excess, you hide the knot under a bead.

"Doctor."

You hum. "Yes?"

When looking to Spock, you are met only by his unwavering stare and green cheeks. No words.

Your gaze travels down, your hand holding his.

"Oh fuck me."

"That does seem to be the message you are sending, Doctor."

#star trek spock #spock x reader #tos spock #aos spock #vulcan kiss

477 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 7 days

Text

Our Little Secret (Part 50)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

Over the next three months, Cillian and you attended family counselling together once a week to establish a parenting plan and some serious boundaries after Cillian had overstepped the line on numerous occasions, bursting into your home uninvited and without any reason whatsoever. You were determined to work on your past relationship and give Mara the best chance at a healthy family life.

"Communication is the key" was what the therapist drilled into both of you, time and time again and, much to your surprise, Cillian was making a real effort. He attended every counselling session despite his busy schedule, and you could see a change in him.

He was no longer the hurricane of emotions, but a man on a mission to heal and rebuild what he had lost.

In time, you even started to see some glimpses of your old relationship with him, moments where you would laugh and talk like you used to. It was comforting in a way, but at the same time, it made things even more complicated than they already were.

You couldn't deny that you still had feelings for Cillian, and it seemed like he still had feelings for you too. But you also couldn't deny that you had moved on in some ways.

Over time and with the help of the counsellor you found a rhythm whereby Cillian took care of Mara most days when you were attending university again. She also stayed with him two nights per week, giving you a break from motherhood.

It was not an ideal situation considering the circumstances, but it worked for all parties involved and you managed to share a communication book so that you could avoid endless text messaging just as the therapist had recommended.

During these months, you also continued to see Sean, casually, for a date or two. He had turned out to be an unexpectedly sweet and sensitive lover and the sex between the two of you improved too.

You even managed to reach complete satisfaction now and then, whenever you were able to take charge of the situation, as Sean's love-making was unfortunately, rather passive compared to Cillian's experienced touch which, deep down inside of you, you craved deeply.

Usurpingly, Cillian insisted on no contact between your newfound lover and Mara until you considered something more serious with him which, to you, seemed fair. The therapist concurred with Cillian in this regard, demanding the same from him if he was to start dating again, and you were simply grateful that, after all this time, Cillian, as Mara's father. accepted the fact that Sean was in your life now.

Occasionally, Cillian would call Sean your toyboy to get under your skin while, at the same time, reminding you how much you still meant to him without being too pushy.

He still couldn't stand the thought of you sleeping with someone else and it was clear to you that he missed you terribly and was struggling to deal with the fact that you had moved on.

This was an issue that came up during therapy now and then where the counsellor reminded him of your boundaries, but overall, Cillian's interference in your life was minimal.

So, in the grand scheme of things, you were able to focus on your new relationship with Sean while also trying to establish some level of peace with Cillian for the sake of Mara which was, at least, until you both got caught up in a situation neither of you could foresee and this was Siobhan's wedding.

Due to the close connection you had shared with her for almost a year now, Cillian's sister Siobhan invited you to her upcoming wedding in Cork where she would marry one of Cillian's friends.

The two of them had been dating for almost 18 months now and their decision to get hitched caught everyone by surprise. Siobhan, being Cillian's younger sister was like a second sister to you and she had been your confidant more times than not during the early days of your breakup with Cillian.

Now, she was inviting you to her wedding at the idyllic Bay View Hotel, nestled along the coastline overlooking the ocean. It was a beautiful setting, but it was also making you somewhat anxious due to the fact that Cillian would be there as well, which Sean wasn't too happy about either.

"I don't know, Y/N. Being surrounded by Cillian and his entire family can't be a good thing," he confided in you as you told him about the invitation and the fact that you would not be taking him as a plus one simply to defuse any potential conflict with your ex.

"Cillian's family has been great, Sean. I have to go. Siobhan is a friend of mine and I couldn't have gotten through the breakup and counselling without her," you explained, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Despite, it's my decision and we aren't even dating, so there's nothing for you to worry about."

Sean looked at you, his eyes full of uncertainty. "I know, I just don't like it though," he stammered and you immediately rolled your eyes.

"Please tell me that this isn't jealousy Sean, because we agreed to be friends with benefits, and nothing more," you replied sternly. "I don't want a relationship right now and you told me that neither do you," you added, trying to make him see reason.

Sean hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground as he fiddled with his hands. "I know, and I'm not asking for one," he said, looking back up at you with a sincere expression. "I'm just concerned that he will ruin what we have built so far."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes again. "Cillian and I are over Sean. We have been trying to remain cordial for Mara's sake, but our relationship is purely platonic now," you assured Sean, knowing that both of you were still in limbo and trying to figure out where your relationship was going.

You weren't ready to commit to Sean, and neither was he, refusing to introduce to his friends because of your complicated past with a man who was in the public eye.

It upset you greatly that he never introduced you to his friends and you knew that he was embarrassed about being with someone like you, someone who had a child at a young age with someone famous.

But what upset you even more was the fact that he brought Cillian up continuously, asking you how you were able to fall for him, a man so much older than you.

He would ask you why you were still hung up on Cillian, why you couldn't move on from the past when it was clear that things between you and Cillian had come to an end.

You tried your best to explain it to him, telling him it was because you had a child together and went through a lot with Cillian, but Sean never seemed to fully understand. You knew that he was insecure about the situation and you couldn't blame him for that, but it still hurt that he couldn't see things from your perspective.

You didn't want to be stuck in the past, but you also couldn't forget about it either so, in the end, you became rather excited about Siobhan's wedding, which was a small gathering of only fifty or so people.

A week later, you went dress shopping with Siobhan and two of her friends who, just like her, were in their early forties. They turned out to be fabulous women with sharp wit and sarcasm that matched your own. You laughed and joked together while trying on various dresses in a quaint store on Grafton Street, which is when one of the women brought up a more sensitive topic again.

"So, I hope you don't mind me asking Siobhan, but is your brother Cillian going to bring a plus one to your wedding?" she inquired innocently, looking at her friend thoughtfully, while not realizing that you were Cillian's ex-girlfriend and the mother of his child.

Siobhan shot her friend a look before turning to you. "I'm sorry, Y/N, she doesn't know," she said apologetically before explaining to her friend that you are, in fact, Cillian's ex-girlfriend.

"Oh shit," she gasped, looking guilty before apologizing again. "I didn't realize that! I'm so sorry for bringing that up then."

"It's alright," you laughed, brushing off the comment. "We are on reasonably good terms," you told the friend , hoping that you sounded convincing.

"So, you wouldn't mind if I made a move then?" the woman then asked, causing you to chuckle.

"Not at all, go ahead," you replied, smiling awkwardly just as the friend looked back at Siobhan who rolled her eyes again.

"Geez, what is it with all you women taking an interest in my brother?" Siobhan complained, causing you and the friend to chuckle again.

"He is a good-looking man Siobhan," the friend continued, causing Siobhan to want to throw up while you took another big sip from your glass of champagne to ease the discomfort in the pit of your stomach.

"Well, if it's any help to you, I can confirm that he will be attending the wedding solo, as the best man of the groom. He is still single after the beautiful Y/N here broke up with him and, from what I have heard, he has no interest in dating anyone right now, whether casually or otherwise, so good luck to you," Siobhan informed her friend before sipping her own glass of champagne, relieved that the awkward topic was behind them.

"That's a shame," the woman said, pouting her lip pensively. "You broke his heart, sweetie," she then teased you, genuinely trying to be funny, but causing you to relive some of the pain you went through when you broke up with Cillian.

"I suppose I did," you agreed, trying to keep it as lighthearted as possible, but finding it difficult.

You knew that breaking up with Cillian was the right decision for both of you, but it still hurt as you missed his company every day.

"But hey, that's life, right?" you continued, trying to brush it off and everyone agreed to change the topic. You and Siobhan walked around the store, trying on various dresses for the wedding, with the woman and her friend tagging along.

You were the most comfortable in a stunning emerald, green dress that hugged your curves perfectly, but it was way out of your price range.

You took a deep breath as you turned away from the mirror, hunched over with disappointment.

"It looks absolutely amazing on you," she told you , standing so close behind that you could almost feel her excitement.

"It's stunning," she admired the dress again, unable to take her eyes off it, but deep down, knowing that you couldn't justify the price.

"I know, I absolutely love it," you sighed. "But I just can't afford it, which is fine. I have other priorities," you said, turning to face her with a frown on your face.

"My brother is giving you money, isn't he?" Siobhan asked knowingly, a smile playing on her lips.

"Yes, and I told him many times that I don't want his money, so I have been putting it all straight into Mara's bank account," you admitted , knowing that Cillian has been trying to assist financially, knowing how hard it is to provide for a child on your own.

"But that was not the agreement you had put in place, and I know that because I wrote up the agreement between you and my brother well before Mara was born," Siobhan reminded you, squeezing your hand lightly as she stood beside you. Siobhan had always been the voice of reason in your life, and you were grateful for that.

"He is giving you money until you graduate and find employment in a law firm. That money is not child support. It is money for you and Mara to share, so you can afford that dress Y/N," Siobhan continued, looking at you with gentle knowing eyes.

"I know, but it doesn't feel right," you told her honestly, feeling a pang of guilt and remorse. "So, I will just think about it, okay?"

you finally told Siobhan, trying to appease her without making any promises.

You had always been proud of your independence and self-sufficiency, and the thought of taking money from Cillian felt like a step backwards.

But Siobhan was right, the agreement had been made and Cillian was determined to fulfill his obligations towards you and Mara.

You had to admit, the money would come in handy, especially now that you were back in university and had student loans to pay but that all was for another day.

For now, you wanted to just enjoy your time with Siobhan, whose wedding day was fast approaching.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy

80 notes · View notes

moonshynecybin · 5 days

Text

i thinkkkkk this one is gonna be part of something larger but here's the first part of a fic (2.8k so far) where the first chapter is literally just rosquez having a conversation in an airport set around jerez 2024… i also wanted to add some good ole marquez brother goof arounds:

“Look, if you’re just gonna make fun of me—”

“No, please! I wanna hear the rest of this,” Alex says, leaning into Marc’s space and raising his eyebrows, goofy. It makes Marc let out a big laugh— full and loud. He stretches against the plastic of the airport gate seating, the movement pulling at overtired muscles. It feels like they’ve been here forever.

It’s been a long journey back to Spain— storm delays and rerouting stranding them in the airport for hours. They’re still here waiting for a connecting flight, puttering away next to their gate and shooting the shit. It’s been a good weekend —a podium for him— but he’s tired, and ready to be home.

“No no no no, I’m done.” He settles into his seat, pushing Alex’s face away from him. Alex cackles, and Marc points at him. “But you should do that professionally!”

Alex pulls one of his mild, exasperated faces, and it makes Marc smile wider. They’re probably being too loud. Marc doesn’t care.

“You know,” Alex points out, dragging out the last syllable of know so it sounds like knowwwww, “You are the world’s absolute worst loser.”

Marc shrugs. “It’s a good thing, too— in our line of work you have to be.” He’s unrepentant. It’s how he’s built.

He ignores the face that Alex is surely making and leans down to rummage through his carry on, looking for headphones. For sure, if he has to lose to anyone, he’d prefer it was Alex. With him, the nagging bite of loss usually manages to morph into something lighter, more fun, just because he knows Alex won’t ever blame him for how he gets, how involved he can be in winning. That doesn’t mean he enjoys losing—he’ll never enjoy that—but it takes it back to being a game. None of the anticipation of a sour aftermath that he’s faced in the past, the wait for the other foot to drop, and the play to slide towards resentment without him noticing.

“I doubt losing at a video game will help you gain a competitive edge on the track,” Alex asserts dryly, turning his attention back to his phone and tapping open the Kindle app. He’s been obsessed with those fantasy novels, lately. “You can’t win at everything.”

“Trust me, I know,” Marc laughs, rubbing at his arm. He needs to call his PT. Whatever. “But! I don’t think that first thing is true.” Banishing the thought from his head, he leans over to poke Alex in the arm. Alex swats at his hand, not looking up from his book, and Marc pokes him again, harder this time. “I have a winner mentality.”

“You have a loser mentality. You just lost.” Alex is staring at what Marc thinks is the table of contents.

“Semantics.” Another poke.

Alex looks up, incredulous. Victory.

“You were cheating! And you still lost!”

“But you don’t have any proof of that.”

And Alex shakes his head like he can’t believe him, laughs again. “You are insufferable.”

Marc grins and Alex sighs, scrubs a hand over his head.

“I’m going to go grab some water. Maybe eventually they’ll let us board this fucking plane. You want anything?”

Marc shakes his head.

“No, I’m good.” He ate earlier. He opens his phone back up, thumbs over his home screen. Nothing looks exciting. He hasn't been on instagram so much lately– avoiding comments.

He sighs and contemplates opening his dating app. He doesn’t.

Nothing’s felt— he’s busy.

It’s always been too much— too complicated with his schedule, with travel, timezones, turning over battles in his head. Braking maneuvers and tire pressure edging out any relationship before it got off the ground properly. Lately, since his arm, and since Alex had told him to go find someone— it’s been nagging more.

But no one gets it. Not like he does. And he’s just never found someone that felt like they were worth all of the effort it would take, keeping a relationship together in a life like his, bending himself around racing. There’s been flashes, some false starts, but nothing has ever–

He hears a distracted chuckle behind his back, a light sound, happy, and it hooks him, hard. A sucker punch. He glances over, his previous train of thought abandoned.

It’s—

He's heard that laugh before.

They haven’t seen each other— properly, actually exchanging words— since last year. The end of the season. They were both in the bathroom at the Lights Out Gala. Marc in a tux, Vale in a flannel. Marc had held the door for Vale as he had left.

Vale, once he’d registered his presence, had thrown him a thin lipped, restrained smile, and thanked him. Asked him vaguely about his surgery. Moved on.

And now he’s on the phone, a few feet away, and he probably hasn’t even seen Marc yet. Instead, he’s chattering lowly, head slightly tilted as he drags a thumb over the handle of his suitcase.

Marc has to wonder if stuff like this happens to other people.

Alex hasn’t left yet, but is about to. He's noticed, of course he noticed, and he tugs on Marc’s sleeve, voice low. “You need me to stay?”

Marc shrugs, shakes his head. He's been around Vale before, after everything, in close quarters even. It's fine.

He's had a lot of practice.

Those last few years, before Vale retired, after Argentina—after Sepang, really, though he maybe hadn’t processed it yet— he worked on it a lot. On taking Vale off of the pedestal, making him more of a person. On realizing he was always going to have a different relationship to Vale than Vale would to him.

He works hard at that distance, enforcing it, maintaining it. Tending to it.

And he had gotten somewhere better, once he had realized that. Had stopped trying to say hi to him every time he saw him. Vale is his hero, and he knows by know that that’s never going to change completely. The precise way his presence lights Marc up, makes him giddy, the disbelieving undercurrent that Valentino Rossi knows his name— but he also has come to terms with the fact that it's never going to be like he imagined when he was twenty, and he thought maybe he could matter as much to Vale as he did to Marc.

He knows that.

But it was an adjustment. It took some time. It’s better now. He's used to it.

Now, he can sit at an airport gate with him and ignore him.

He’s probably been staring at his phone screen a little too hard.

“Allora— so, how have you been?” A voice asks, simply, closer to his ear than it should be. Of course.

He puts the emphasis on you, the full force of him narrowed on the word. Marc stays very, forcibly still. Projects calm.

Vale’s across from him, now, got there without him noticing. His legs are spread out wide in the seat across from Marc, hat pulled low and posture easy. His face is neutral— pleasant. Marc knows that means absolutely nothing.

Vale’s gaze charts over him, carefully, taking him in. Marc swallows, steels his jaw.

Vale has always had a way of observing. Leveraging that beam of attention. He doesn’t miss a thing, never has, and he looks good— tired, but relaxed, thin frame bundled up in a hoodie, hat pulled low over his forehead. Incognito mode, Marc remembers him joking sometime in 2013, after they had snuck out of the paddock to grab a drink at a bar post media day. But you always dress like that, Marc had said, probably too confidently, and Vale had laughed, had leant in and said Well, if I want them to recognize me, I just wear the Yamaha shirt.

Marc blinks. Vale’s eyebrows are raised, expectantly. He’s been quiet too long.

“Why?” He asks pleasantly. No use pretending.

“How have you been?” Vale asks, evenly, continuing as if Marc didn’t talk. “It has been a few months, yes? Since we’ve seen each other? The gala?” He looks away, shrugging. “I wondered about your arm– it seems better.”

“You could have texted.” Marc says, furrowing his brow. He's being overly serious, he knows, but he’s curious. He didn’t expect Vale to text, knew he wouldn’t actually. It still, despite it all, prickled at him. Whenever he was injured, before, Vale would always ask. He hadn't, anytime in the last four years, despite the severity of the injury.

So why is he asking now.

Vale huffs a laugh, swipes a thumb over his phone case, waves it lazily. “My number, it ah, leaked.” He makes a face. “I had to get a new phone a while ago. I don't think your contact made it over.”

It’s better than him deleting it. Better than Marc expected, to be honest.

It could also be a lie.

“Oh. Well.” Marc, says, unsure how to continue. He smiles at Vale anyways, lifts his good shoulder, combing through his brain for what he actually wants Vale to know about his arm. Not lying, just slightly to the left of the truth. He doesn't want anything getting back to Pecco, but Vale can sense insincerity from a mile off.

“I can't complain. The last surgery, it helped.”

Vale’s eyebrows jump, making a little grimace. “I heard, it did not look very pleasant.”

The documentary, Marc thinks, Did he watch the fucking documentary?

“—Now it’s just the bike? Managing the new braking style?” Vale asks. Marc cannot fucking remember the last time Vale asked him two questions in a row.

“Ah, you know. Trade secret.” Vale’s team is also vying for the GP25 — best to keep as much as he can close to his chest.

Vale raises an eyebrow and Marc folds like a cheap stack of cards.

He sighs. nods. Who cares. Vale’s watched him ride for years, he knows Marc still has a little bit to improve on the year old Ducati. He’s seen the data.

“Now it’s just the getting the bike, nailing the setup.” He goes for the PR version of the truth. Nevermind that his arm is still in PT three times a week. The Ducati is good— Marc is having more fun. Fighting at the front. Adjusting easier than he thought he would.

But it’s not a Honda. He needs a bit more time, and he needs– he needs the factory spec. And it looks like Jorge Martin might be the one to get it.

Vale nods, neutral, like the conversation’s ending, like he’s being gracious with Marc’s answer, letting him keep his emotions close— and a sharp, unexplainable feeling digs into Marc’s chest, that same way it did when he was watching him from the seat over in whatever press conference, those first few years. He wants to keep Vale talking. Wants him to keep looking at Marc, wants to— Marc doesn’t quite know, exactly, but it feels a lot like he does on track, when he just can’t quite keep himself from reaching for the win.

He speaks. Vale’s gaze snaps back to him, head following after, a little lazier.

“You? How's endurance racing? Missing anything about MotoGP?”

He says like he doesn’t know. Like he doesn't keep tabs. Like people don’t ask him about Vale’s results.

Anyways, it's hard to be involved in MotoGP and not hear about Vale, even when he’s been retired going into three years now. People talk, always eager for Marc’s opinion on his great rival.

There’s a quirk at the corner of Vale’s mouth. Like he’s won something. Marc curls a fist tight, ignoring the feeling that he’s given information away.

“Some things.” Vale replies, an odd glimmer to him. His brow furrows, then: “I miss how it was around ten years ago, more.”

Marc blinks.

“— Getting old, I mean. It was not so fun, there at the end. I could see everything I wanted to do, every move I would've made on track, ” He sits down across from Marc, leans back in his seat, long torso bending with his lazy posture, the mood shifts and he laughs. “But I was too old! It was harder.”

Of course that’s what he meant. Marc doesn’t— he doesn’t miss Marc. doesn’t think about him much at all, probably. Wasn’t saying he missed how it was between them, ten years ago, when they were friends. Marc knows that.

“I'm getting up there, now.” Marc jokes, “Acosta, he is on the horizon.” He’s not sure it lands, but Vale huffs a laugh anyways, rubs at his eyebrow.

“You?” Vale asks, incredulous. That x-ray quality is back in his vision. He always— He used to always get Marc that way, when he would dial in and make Marc think the words he was saying mattered to him.

Vale shakes his head, shimmies a shoulder, wags a finger. “No no no no, don’t try that– you are still young, you cant talk to me about old.”

Marc grins. He doesn’t feel it so much, now, the years between them, but it’s a nice reminder of how good it felt, being the up and comer on the scene. The next Valentino Rossi. That was fun.

But he’s older now, has been in the paddock longer than almost anyone, just like Vale had– and he can feel it, dragging at his arm. can see it, in the lines under his eyes, the unfamiliarity of the faces around him.

He wonders how Vale did it for so long. That slow decline— new people popping up every day, ones who learned from him, perfected ideas he pioneered, then using them against him.

He remembers how he felt on the podium yesterday, and decides not to ask. He leans back.

“Ehhhh, you are not really that much older than me.”

Vale’s expression doesn’t change, still set at his default neutrally animated, but something charges in the air, and Marc gets the sense he wants to say something, toying with the edge of the cliff.

Marc searches for something that won’t rock the boat. He settles on a compliment.

“Pecco was good this weekend— He beat me. You trained him well.”

Vale’s shoulders slide down, relaxing minutely. The charge slips away. Success.

“Ah, he’s a lot better than he was when you showed up at the ranch ten years ago, yes.”

Marc leans forwards, “Hey!” So much for avoiding fraught topics.

Vale tilts his chin, considering. “What did you say about him? I don’t think it was flattering–”

“—That was ten years ago! I’m wrong ONCE.”

“Once is enough!”

“Apparently.” Marc hits back.

And it’s good— they’re laughing, Marc thinks, he’s laughing— but that last bit, the apparently, hangs there, snagging in Marc’s mind.

Once is enough. Apparently.

Vale’s smile dies slowly, once it’s clear Marc isn’t about to continue, and it’s odd. Not fraught, for once— though Marc hasn't been the best at recognizing when it was in the past, but he’s pretty sure here. The moment dangles for a second, as they sit across from each other in an airport looking at each other. Vale’s face is doing that thing it was earlier, where he seems to be on the verge of some moment, and his mouth opens. For some reason, Marc flushes hot on the back of his neck. His skin feels tight, and their eye contact holds.

“All good?” It’s Alex, coming back with his Smartwater.

Vale sits up straighter, immediately, posture snapping into place. He nods at Alex, who ignores him, and slides back into his seat. He shrugs at Marc, a little in-joke. What did I do? it asks, fully knowing the answer. Alex has never been as shy as Marc is about his feelings concerning Valentino Rossi.

And it's that above anything that makes Marc feel like he’s dunked his head in ice water, reality crashing in. The moment snaps as Vale tucks back into himself, leaving Marc off his balance. He feels dizzy and a little off kilter, like he’s done something wrong, like he’s gotten away with something, something illicit, which is ridiculous — he’s just been sitting here.

Nothing’s even happened. They've been two meters away from each other the entire time.

They haven’t even touched.

Vale’s eyes are boring into him, blue and clear. Alert. And Marc catches a flash of— concern, maybe, his brow is creasing— and it tugs at Marc, makes him want to glance back and make him feel easy, lift the corner of his mouth, shrug his shoulders and dismiss Alex’s chilliness. Makes him hot and nervy, out of his skin with the need to do something he doesn’t have a name for.

He smiles.

Maybe he is doing something wrong.

Vale smiles back, and it’s brilliant.

The flight attendant comes over the PA. They’re boarding.

#toting with a marc who does not in fact realize he wants to fuck that old man but is obsessed with him nonetheless.#dw still working on prompts this was just. done lol #motogp #callie speaks #rosquez #my fic

108 notes · View notes

ann4zw · 5 months

Text

My Perfect Girl.

N/a: Let's start with an apology. Because English is not my native language and I know there can be a lot of mistakes in English. I would appreciate if you could inform me about this error.I've written a thing or two before, but this is the first time I've written something like this and it's about Hayden and one of his characters. I've never written anything NSFW either, but I hope you like it, kisses from Ana. (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Content warnings: NSFW content!! Sam Monroe x reader, mention of drugs (marijuana), explicit sex, characters of legal age.

You were returning from a long walk to clear your head. Before leaving the house, you had a heated fight with your parents. Immersed in a sea of emotions, you found yourself weighed down by the overwhelming weight of being constantly underestimated. His weakened self-esteem reflected the lack of recognition from his family, who inadvertently focused more on expectations and demands than on his true qualities and efforts dedicated to them.

Every benevolent act you performed seemed to disappear in the shadow of family demands, without receiving the praise and recognition it deserved. The constant pressure left you immersed in a feeling of devaluation, as if the light of your achievements were constantly dimmed by the incessant noise of demands.

The bitter melody of lack of recognition echoed in his heart, even as he struggled to provide support and care to those around him.

In the middle of this tumultuous path, his eyes met those of Sam Monroe, his dear neighbor, who was on the porch of his house smoking marijuana. The moon cast a soft light over the scene, and when their eyes met, Sam gave a small wave in his direction. With nothing to lose, you decided to get closer, you didn't want to go home anyway.

"Are you humble enough to share the dram?" he asked, staring at Sam with a smirk as he leaned against the porch. He replied with a sarcastic smile, "I didn't think Miss Perfect was into that kind of thing," but he eventually gave in and shared the joint.

"Perfection is overrated, don't you think? Sometimes we need to escape the pressure and just live." You with a yellow smile as you took the joint to your mouth and took a light drag, you feel Sam watching you as you do so.

"True. Life is complicated enough. Sometimes a break is all we need." Sam responds by changing the direction of his gaze to the moon.

As you share light-hearted laughter and thoughts, the initial tension between you melts away. Sam, more seriously, asks, "What about you? What brought you here on this complicated night?"

You hesitate for a moment but end up deciding to share, once again, what do you have to lose? "Family, expectations... I feel like I'm always trying to meet their demands, but it's never enough."

Sam looks at you in a way you can't decipher and says. "I understand."

The conversation flows smoothly, and as the joint is shared, a deeper connection is established. You suddenly feel Sam's hand caressing his face, and then you turn your face slightly so you can meet his eyes, oh, those eyes...

"You're so..." he seems to get a little lost for words but ends with "beautiful." you feel a slight fervor on your face when you hear the praise coming from Sam, before you can respond he speaks; "I could kiss you right now." he said with an amused tone as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Then kiss.." I take the courage out of my ass to say that but I'm glad I said it.

Heart racing, hands shaking slightly. I look into Sam's deep eyes, feeling the electric energy between us. With a playful smile on his face, he leans towards me slightly, capturing my lips softly. The kiss starts out soft and tentative, but soon turns into something more intense and passionate. Sam's hands lightly cup his face, while I surrender to the moment, feeling the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of the kiss. It's a magical moment, where the world around you disappears, and you find yourself immersed in the intimacy of this special moment.

Your breathing gets deeper as Sam's kisses send goosebumps across your skin. You feel enveloped by a wave of desire, an intense fire burning within you. With a shaking hand, you caress Sam's face as he continues to explore every inch of your neck. Every touch, every movement, seems to electrify his body, making his senses seem to be on edge, completely surrendered to the overwhelming passion of the moment. Whispers of pleasure escape your lips, and you feel completely enveloped by this intense connection with Sam. The world around you disappears as you give in to the pure emotion of the moment.

With a quick movement, Sam traps you between him and the balcony, holding tight to your waist, while lowering his lips to his neck. You rest your hand on the back of his neck, lightly pulling his dyed black hair, feeling his body react with heat and fervor to the hot kiss that Sam places on his neck. His every touch is like a flame that ignites his skin, taking you to a state of ecstasy and complete surrender to the fiery moment you share.

Your breathing gets deeper as Sam's kisses send goosebumps across your skin. You feel enveloped by a wave of desire, an intense fire burning within you. Every touch, every movement, seems to electrify your body, making your senses seem to be on edge. Whispers of pleasure escape your lips, and you feel completely enveloped by this intense connection with Sam. The world around you disappears as you give in to the pure emotion of the moment.

Sam suddenly stops the kisses, and you look at him with a confused look. "We can't do that here, pretty." he says. You have a great idea and look at him with a mischievous smile. He soon returns the smile, curious about what is going on in your mind, and his eyes shine brightly as he waits to find out what you are planning.

With a quick, purposeful movement, you grab Sam's hand and pull him towards your house. As soon as you enter the main door, you hear murmurs coming from the kitchen, where your parents are busy with some activity that you don't even care about. Sam understands the situation and gives you a knowing look, smiling with admiration for your determined manner. Without hesitation, you lead him to his room.

As soon as they enter the room, Sam acts quickly by pressing you against the door and sharing a passionate kiss with you. You can feel his warm, calloused hands smooth your ass and then give them a firm squeeze. You push him gently, leading Sam to the bed.

"What's the plan now?" Sam asks, giving him a curious look.

You respond with a mischievous smile, "Well, I guess we'll make this moment even more interesting." Kneeling in front of him, he adds, "What do you think?" Sam picks up on the suggestion and returns the look with a mischievous smile, understanding perfectly. With agility, you unbuckle Sam's belt, taking his cock out. It was bigger than thick, it was red and with pulsing veins, which only increased his desire to shove it down his throat.

You then place his red head on your lips, sucking it like it's candy. Sam's loud moans fill the room as he throws his head back. With confidence, you welcome him completely into your mouth, making skillful back and forth movements, intensifying the connection between you while maintaining eye contact with Sam, you watch him moan, with his mouth half open, his forehead sweaty. You just smile, thinking if that's all for you.

Sam moans praise, saying: "Such a beautiful girl, such a delicious mouth..." When he tries to put his hand on his head to maintain a rhythm, you intensify the suction, forcing him to place his hands on the bed for support. and avoid collapsing in the face of the intensity of the moment.

Sam's chest rose and fell, his moans echoing in the room, you increase the suction even more and begin to massage his sensitive balls as well. "Pretty, I'm going to cum.." Sam's moans took on a desperate tone, he needed to cum. Sam began to moan his name repeatedly, increasingly euphoric, as if the words were a visceral expression of pleasure. The room echoed with your moans, he tries to push your head so you can let his cock free from your mouth but you hold your thighs tightly, feeling hot ropes of sperm in your throat, you swallow everything that Sam pours for you, without stop sucking him even more, even though he has already cum..

"honey, that's too much." He moans loudly from overstimulation as you continue working with his sensitive cock, he tries to push you away but he is out of strength from his recent orgasm. “pretty, I don’t…” a loud moan escapes his lips as he tries to stammer out the words. "I can't take it-" his breathing becomes even faster as he moans even louder, giving rise to his second orgasm. You insist on taking him until the last drop that comes out of that beautiful cock.

When you're sure you've done it, you slowly back away as you watch Sam recover. He looks at you with a mischievous smile on his face. "My God, you're perfect," Sam said with an amused tone and a hoarse voice, revealing a mixture of surprise and admiration. In response, you smile and go on top of him, fishing his lips in a wet kiss, sharing the taste of your own cock and cum with him. “You taste so good,” you say in a whisper as you continue to kiss Sam, sucking and biting his lower lips. Sam ran his hands over your body, taking off your clothes while you enjoyed his mouth with the best kiss you've ever tasted.

"I think mine comes from making you moan, don't you think?" He says with a smile, laying you down on the bed, climbing on top of you and running his tongue over your nipple, sucking it like a baby in search of your breast milk. Brushing his dick against your soaked entrance, he lifts his head to look at you and says, “Ready?” He asks with a horny smile, before you can respond, Sam shoves his entire length into your hungry hole, making you scream in a loud moan, the stretch giving you a pain that makes you arch your back. "Oops, it slipped.." he says with an amused tone. "I-Idiot.." you moan and he runs his finger across your lips. "Be quiet, pretty, you don't want your parents to come here, do you?" Sam teases and you remember that your parents are home, damn it, you completely forgot about that, but you have something more important to think about right now.

He immediately grabbed her hand and began to thrust hard and fast, dragging his tongue down her throat to her breasts and sucking them. Sam took his hand and lifted his head to lick his ear, speaking very softly in his ear. "Okay, pretty? I can do this all day." In response to his provocation, you let out an extremely loud moan, Sam covered your mouth and spoke. "Noisy bitch." He says with a mocking smile on his face. Sam kissed you, groping your breasts and pinching your nipples, making you shudder.

"Ah, pretty", he says between moans, "You're a complete mess, so perfect... my perfect girl."

He pulls you into a wet, dirty kiss and you whimper, drooling on his lips, your eyelashes fluttering as they touch your clit.

"Taking my dick so well with that perfect pussy.." He kisses you on the neck, giving light hickeys, never stopping to thrust hard inside you, reaching your sweetest spot, it doesn't take long for you to feel a familiar sensation in your core. "Sam.. I'm going to cum!" You say with a moan, your back arching as your chest rose and fell. Sam, upon hearing his words, pulls your legs to rest them on his shoulder and starts thrusting uncontrollably, making you scream even more, the impact noise of the meat hitting each other was loud and echoed throughout the room. “cum for me, perfect girl, pour your delicious honey on my dick” He says teasingly in your ear, he knows the effects it has on you. As you feel the knot in your core break, you moan Sam's name as you spill your cum onto his cock, after a few thrusts, Sam does the same to your pussy.

After the moment of ecstasy, Sam collapsed next to him, the bed serving as a silent witness to their shared emotions. Both tried to catch their breath, their sweaty bodies revealing the intensity of the encounter. The room, which had been too noisy, was now filled with silence, just the subtle echo of intertwined breaths, as tiredness transformed into a comforting feeling of shared intimacy.

Sam's gaze finds his pussy, which was dripping with both of your cum, and a smile forms on his lips. “Look at this,” he says looking at you, his lips find yours tenderly, he holds your chin gently. "You're perfect," he says, each word filled with appreciation. The intimacy of the moment transcends words, leaving only the sweet melody of shared connection in the air. "My perfect girl." , gently stroking your abdomen as he strokes your hair.

Sam looks at you with a smile after the shared moment. "Do you always have that amazing smile after a moment like that?"

"Maybe it's your ability to bring smiles." You respond jokingly.

Sam laughs softly, appreciating the answer.

"Well, I can only thank you for the inspiration. How do you feel now?" He asks and you reflect on the moment, expressing your feelings. "Like I'm floating on clouds, what about you?"

Sam shares the same sentiment. "The same. I think we managed to create something special here." Both recognize the uniqueness of the moment.

"Definitely."

As you enjoyed each other's caresses, a sound of footsteps echoes down the stairs, making you quickly look at Sam.

"Sam, you locked the door didn't you?" Sam looks at you confused, and for a brief moment, you share a look of mutual surprise.

"What? I thought you locked it."

#hayden christensen x reader #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars anakin #star wars #hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagines

112 notes · View notes

nori-the-cat · 2 months

Note

eunseok as a bf n his type <333

I'll do one for his type separately. But here is your Eunseok as a bf request (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

Remember, this is just my interpretation based on the tarot spread. All of this are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. Take it with a grain of salt.

Cards: the hermit, six of wands, knight of cups, the chariot, three of swords, seven of pentacles, nine of wands, queen of swords, the world, king of wands, and ace of cups.

Honestly, girl. I also wonder what Eunseok is like as a boyfriend. So why not find out together?

Let's see how Eunseok would flirt during the getting to know phase.

Eunseok's flirting is likely a calculated charm (The Chariot). He might be patient and put in the effort (Seven of Pentacles) to get to know you, taking you on thoughtful dates or learning about your interests.

Imagine a picnic date with Eunseok. He would've meticulously planned it (The Chariot) - a scenic spot, a delicious homemade meal (Seven of Pentacles), with thoughtful conversation.

As a boyfriend:

Eunseok might seem like a homebody at first. We all know he's an introvert who enjoys his own space – his members can attest to that, and they even mention a personal refrigerator in his room!

But here's the surprising thing: Eunseok might be quiet, but he has a hidden romantic side. In relationships, he might crave some alone time (like the Hermit in tarot), but when he's with his special someone, he becomes a true Knight of Cups – a romantic idealist.

Expect Eunseok to put in effort. He might bring flowers, cook your favorite meal, or prepare a thoughtful playlist. While not overly expressive verbally, his actions will show his care (Knight of Cups).

Imagine Eunseok as a big, quiet teddy bear. He cherishes quality time and loves creating a special atmosphere for his girlfriend (you). When he's around his partner (you), he transforms – becoming more affectionate and sentimental. This is because spending uninterrupted time together is important to him, as it allows him to build a strong connection.

Eunseok becoming more affectionate when around his partner (you) could suggests he appreciates physical touch as a love language. Cuddling on the couch or holding hands during a walk could be great additions when going on dates.

I do think this man's love language is quality time and physical touch. I'll explain why.

In a relationship, expect Eunseok to put effort into creating a special and loving atmosphere for the two of you to enjoy. This reflects his desire for a successful relationship (Six of Wands) and ambition for your shared future (The Chariot).

This desire to create something special stems from his deep wish for a successful relationship (Six of Wands). He doesn't just want to float along; he wants to build something strong and lasting, a relationship that thrives. Think of it like a magnificent chariot ride (The Chariot) – he sees you by his side, and together you're conquering the journey of love.

This man is secretly a romantic. He just doesn't show it. *rolling my eyes*

He's also patient and persistent (Seven of Pentacles) when it comes to nurturing the relationship. He might be fiercely protective (Nine of Wands) and stand up for you or the relationship if needed.

This side of Eunseok sounds like a real ride-or-die kind of boyfriend. He's patient and puts a lot of effort into making things work, which is pretty awesome. Plus, he's got your back no matter what! If anyone ever messes with you, you know Eunseok will be there to stand up for you. Now that's a keeper!

However, like everyone else, Eunseok also has his red and green flags. This man is complicated. He is a passionate and romantic man with some pitfalls.

Red Flag:

Well, not some. But a few that are alarming yet tolerable. I pulled 3 more cards to see his "red flags". The reason is that the chariot card in this reading stands out to me. When I shuffled to see his "red flags", the chariot card came out again.

It turns out this guy doesn't communicate. But you, as his partner, have to do the communicating.

The rest of the cards that I pulled were the devil, three of swords, and seven of cups. I pulled the devil's card first and then the chariot. In a relationship, codependency might be a problem.

The Chariot's can also manifest as being overly domineering or inflexible. The Devil can also represent a lack of control, and the Chariot indicates a chance for him to take charge and make positive changes. This could be related to asserting himself within the relationship or addressing any imbalances.

Did I say communication is a problem? Clocked it.

The order of the cards that I pulled: the devil, the chariot, three of swords, and seven of cups. In the context of relationships, it could represent codependency, control issues, or a lack of boundaries (the devil). In a positive light, it suggests overcoming challenges and achieving your goals together (the chariot).

Imagine an argument with Eunseok. You both don't see eye to eye. There's power struggle too. By the end of the argument no one wants to apologise.

With the three of wands, this indicate betrayal, arguments, or a feeling of being emotionally hurt. At times Eunseok could withdraw when things are tough or emotionally draining. As his partner, you would start to question whether he is serious with you or not.

In the case of an argument, you, as his partner would experience confusion about commitment or a tendency to idealize him or sees him using a rose coloured lens (seven of cups). This is because Eunseok himself idealised what a romantic relationship looks like. When friction happens in the relationship, he would withdraw.

womp womp...

Here's a scenario: The Devil followed by the Chariot suggests Eunseok might be battling some negative influences or habits (Devil) but is determined to overcome them and steer the relationship in a healthier direction (Chariot). However, the Three of Swords following could indicate there's been some emotional hurt or conflict in the past that needs to be addressed.

What could this mean? Well, Eunseok is someone who would fix a problem or issue at hand. But once it gets emotionally overwhelming and worse, draining. He would withdraw. He would bring with him all the negative things and yet toss them aside as it is "not important" to him. But what's the problem here? the problem is that one day it will burst. Yeah, it will burst. Not like a balloon. But a grenade.

It's not pretty.

The Devil and Seven of Cups together could suggest Eunseok would struggle with temptations or bad habits (Devil) while also being unsure of what he truly wants (Seven of Cups). This might lead to confusion and potential for future conflict (Three of Swords).

Yeah, basically everything I already pointed out.

Green Flags:

I pulled 4 more cards for this section of the reading. The cards were the lovers, four of wands, knight of cups, and ten of swords.

These cards suggest Eunseok could be a great boyfriend material. He seems to value commitment, romance, and stability. However, the Knight of Cups and Ten of Swords hint at some potential emotional baggage or indecisiveness.

Despite his inability to confront things, acknowledge his emotions, and withdrawing when things gets tough. Eunseok is a mature guy who will make you laugh. With him as your boyfriend, you will feel taken care of, protected, and he is pretty stable.

*whispers* He is also secretly a romantic guy.

Date ideas with or for Eunseok:

A cozy cafe or a picnic in a scenic spot (park, beach) would be ideal. It should be a place where you can converse comfortably without distractions.

Focus on activities that allow for conversation and shared experiences. This could be anything from playing a board game, taking a walk, or simply enjoying a meal together.

Expect him to put in the effort. He might bring flowers, prepare a picnic basket, or choose a cafe known for its ambiance.

Overall, Eunseok seems like a supportive, thoughtful, and passionate boyfriend who puts effort into making the relationship special.

At least, he would try.

My opinion: When I did this reading, the chariot and knight of cups stands out the most for me. Imo, Eunseok would take control of the relationship by controlling his emotions. As his partner, you need to pay attention to his actions and how it shows up in the relationship.

Channelled songs:

These are the songs that reminds me of him.

#kpop #riize #kpop tarot #riize tarot #riize eunseok #eunseok riize #riize x reader #riize scenarios #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize headcanons #riize drabbles #eunseok x reader #eunseok imagines #eunseok fluff #song eunseok

81 notes · View notes

not-goldy · 9 months

Note

God I can't really stand JK anymore.

Everything regarding him went a downhill since 2023. The way he behaved changed a lot.. LIKE A LOT now he's way cockier as if no one in the whole world can top him and he doesn't need to listen to anyone giving even good advises, how he used to present himself and looked changed drastically now he looks like a junkie, how he used to perform changed so much now he doesn't half half the energy or stage presence and doesn't give af about making mistake a ton times while before he used to perform with extreme perfection. He's listening to their PR teams too much like where did I go live when I miss fans went ? Now he's listening to their cheap promo tricks. His work ethics is completely opposite from what BTS was.. he's working with payola king of the whole industry and buying success. Releasing a 100 version and a western collab with some B grade pop artist. The songs he releasing are basically shit now when he used to release magic shop, film out, your eyes tell and still with you kind of gems.

The ONLY thing connecting me to him now is Jimin. There's no way to avoid JK when you are a Jimin stan. But i'm WAITING for the day Jimin finally open his eyes and get out of this toxic relationship so I don't want to put up with him anymore.

You see, your problem is that Jungkook is not Jimin. That's your problem. Half way through your comment, I smiled to myself and I thought well this Anon would certainly love Jimin then if these are the qualities they looking for in an idol. only to get to the end of the Ask to find out you actually do like Jimin💀

That complicates things for me.

Where should I even begin

There's nothing wrong with having a preference. There's nothing wrong with having a bias.

I'm not gonna come for your throat on this.

You prefer Jimin's work ethics and prefer how seriously he takes his public relations, how he puts on effort and that's alright.

BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO HATE JUNGKOOK just because he's not YOUR PREFERENCE.

If you keep that up you and I gon have a problem.

Do I think Jungkook can take a page or two out of the Jimin idol manual? Sure.

As much as I looove seeing Jungkook live his life on his own terms not giving a fuck what anyone cares- some times, in certain areas I do think he could use that self regulation.

Yet on the other hand, I don't find Jimin's over regulation appealing either. I've ever said his kumbaya persona, caring too much what others think, trying to be perfect, self regulated, evolved, controlling his words, his attention, being overly polite, smiling when he should be cussing people out all in the name of his consciousness of the fact he is an idol really REALLY FRUSTRATES ME.

Jimin struggles with this. The never mind tattoos, the song lyrics yearning for freedom, set me free- where do you think that comes from?

I don't know how we can call ourselves stans and not sense some of these things: the members constantly telling him not to care what people would think, to do whatever he wants,- even Jungkook openly reminding him HE IS AN ADULT and shouldn't care about certain things.

Jungkook is good for Jimin and Jimin is good for Jungkook.

Jimin is the leash and restrain Jungkook needs and Jungkook is the freedom Jimin craves.

Please don't come for jikook I'll paint you and it ain't going to be pretty.

Also remember, this is a human being you are talking about. He is not an alien. He is human just like you. That vitriol and animosity towards him is so not necessary.

I can't help you unhate him.

But please, be a good human.

He is a relatively young man navigating overwhelming situations. I personally think going solo has taught him so much and there is much more he'd learn along the way.

And please, it's slander to say he half ass his performance- have you seen his tiktok? THE THIBGS HE CAN DO WITH HIS WAIST- MY GOD!

Oh and did you see Tae's smoke challenge? I may or may not be addicted to the part he wines his waist- lolay lolay lolay

Sorry I had to go and watch that clip again.

Liste, the point I'm making here is, It's his journey and his choice to decide the type of idol he wants to be. You may like it or you may not. That's a you problem. However he's responsible for his own reputation and his own success in the industry and I think he is still learning to hone his values and filter his choices through those values.

Give that man a break .

AND FREE JUNGKOOK.

Peace out

112 notes · View notes

sosickoflostpassword · 6 days

Text

It's pride month! Let's make a list of One Piece characters I head cannon as in the LGBT+ community!

First up is the Captain himself, Luffy

Don't go getting too hot ladies and gents, this bachelor is off the market.

My opinion is that Luffy is Aro/Ace (not that one).

The reality is that unless you are food, friends, or adventure then you probably won't find yourself meaning much of anything to this delightfully joyous fellow.

In short the man has things to do and none of those things include sex or romance.

Top ships: none

Secondary ships: also none

Next up we got the navigator, Nami

This pretty lady capture hearts wherever she goes!

My opinion is that she is Bisexual.

Man or woman you'll have a chance with her... for a price.

Just be sure to protect her and her treasure because she is not interested in the fighting thing. She's a damn queen and very much inclined to act like one.

Top ships: Zoro x Nami

Secondary ships: Sanji x Nami, Vivi x Nami, Wanda x Nami

Now let move on to the ships cook, Sanji!

The man is complicated but hear me out.

It is my opinion that he is bisexual.

He cooks hard and simps harder but perhaps there's something going on underneath. He certainly has a soft side which he shows to women almost exclusively. (Key word is almost my friends)

He certainly likes women but perhaps he's overcompensating for something.

Top ships: Sanji x Nami (it would have been pudding if she was at all older but I digress)

Secondary ships: Sanji x Violette, Sanji x Ace

Speaking of Ace let's look at the little firecracker.

Boy what a looker, and seems to me he thinks similarly about a lot of people because it is my opinion that Ace is ...

Pansexual.

Whether you're sporting feminine, masculin, or neither energy Ace is the guy who's eating it up.

Just get him talking about his brother and he goes all mushy for you. Perhaps it's the genuine connection and interest in each other's lives and feelings that really get him going.

Top ships: Ace x Yamato

Secondary ships: Ace x Sanji, Ace x Vivi

Now let's talk about the top Ace partner for me.

Yamato/Oden

Bro heard the term "dress for the job you want not the job you have" and ran with it.

It is my opinion that Yamato/Oden is pansexual and transgender.

This can be quite the hot topic considering his reason for his transition and how he present himself but for me it is cut and dry. Guy says he's a dude and that's all that I'm gunna care about because let's be honest he is THE DUDE.

Yamato values his strength and values sincerity. He's fun loving and always looking for excitement in life. He found those values presented in his biggest idol, Oden. So it is my opinion that he did not change to be more like Oden but found courage in being himself because he discovered Oden.

Top ships: Ace x Yamato

Secondary ships: none

Who can talk about Trans icons in OP without including Kiku!

Kiku lives her life unashamedly herself. She makes no fuss or muss about it either.

I have no head cannon regarding her sexuality as I got no vibes during my time watching her on screen of one or another but Kiku is, not just by my opinion but canonically, transgender.

Strong, elegant, and thoughtful her path in life did not take away from any of her responsibilities or ther seriousness in which she takes them. One of the ayakaza 9 samurai sworn ro protect Oden and his family. They certainly didn't have any I'll feelings towards her and her identity so why should anyone else.

Top ships: none at this time

Secondary ships: none

Let's dive more into gender identity actually by bringing forth the goat himself. The man. The myth. The legend.

Bonclay.

He is beauty, he is grace, he is missus steal your face.

It is my opinion that Bonclay is gender non conforming!

He goes by he him pronouns but makes no effort to explain nor justify his presentation or mannerisms. No should he! He's perfect the way he is.

I've seen no romantic vibes from Bon Chan as of now but he's too busy being the real MVP of every arc he appears in to have the time it would seem. And that's fine by me.

Top ships: none

Secondary ships: none

It's getting to be quite long so I will cap this off with the top of the top. THE person to go to in the one piece verse regarding gender and sexual identity.

IVANKOV.

He? She? They? It doesn't matter. It's all the same to Ivankov who strikes me as Gender fluid in its purest form.

Believing a person's gender or appearance shouldn't limit them and that every single person should strive for true happiness within themselves regardless if that looks like how they were born or not!

Ivankov has a unique ability to help with that by injecting hormones into those willing (eh sometimes not) to bring about their truer selves.

Ivankov runs the Queendom! A land seemingly dedicated to challenging gender stereotypes with a beautiful scenic background to cap it off.

You're doing the lords work my friend.

Top ships: none

Secondary ships: none

If someone you head cannon in the LGBT+ community isn't on this list that's fine! I'm sure I didn't get them all and there are some that I probably don't head cannon that way. For example it is my opinion that Zoro, Brooke, Robin, and Franky are straight and cis. Jimbei I want to watch more of first and chopper, as a little child bean, doesn't feel right to me to be head cannoning in these ways.

#one piece #pride month #trans pride #lgbt pride #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #straw hat pirates #mugiwara crew #nami #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji

20 notes · View notes

another-lost-mc · 1 year

Text

SFW Alphabet | ALPHERATZ x gn!Reader 0.6k words | SFW | Fluff & Humor A/N: This is for a request from a lovely Anon, but I'm going to consolidate any additional letter prompts on this post. 🤎

AFFECTION (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

His brand of affection is like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold day. It makes you feel so comfortable.

He's a tactile person and once you're in a relationship, he finds it difficult not to connect with you physically in some way.

He likes to remind you with small touches that he cares about you - a hand on your shoulder while you wait in line together, or an arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders when he walks with you on a casual outing or date.

He might kiss your forehead or cheek, but it's a brush of his lips that graze your skin.

FIANCE(E) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

His only hesitation to marriage is the complicated relationship he has with his grandfather and family. He would prefer to keep them away from you and your relationship as much as possible, but it's easier said than done.

It's not that he doesn't want to marry you, because he does - he just wants to avoid involving his family if he can.

At the end of the day, he'll put up with them and their expectations of him if he has to, as long as you can be together.

He won't be in a rush to get married, and he's going to put a lot of thought and effort into your engagement/marriage plans. He wants to do it properly, and he won't spare any expense to give you whatever it is you dream of.

I LOVE YOU (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You'll know he loves you before he says it.

It's the small changes he makes, the things he does that not only accommodate your relationship, but make you his priority.

Other sorcerers at Contell might start talking about how much he's changed. He's more responsible, he seems so much happier. They wonder why, but it doesn't take long for you to realize all those changes happened after you started dating.

If you're hesitant to tell him you love him first, he won't be upset - he knows how you feel about him too.

LITTLE ONES (How are they around children?)

He's not used to spending time with children, but he's willing to learn.

Kids will love him - he'll pretend to sleep while they crawl all over him, and he'll tickle them when they least expect it.

In general he's going to be very playful in a tactile way - carrying them on his shoulder or under his arm, lifting them in the air - an even more fun experience for them considering how tall he is.

He's also going to be extremely protective of any children under his care. The other Guide Sorcerers might call him a Papa Bear, and even if he grumbles about the nickname, it's not a lie.

UGLY (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He's not going to stop napping to avoid some of the more tedious responsibilities he has. At least you know his favourite hiding places which makes it easier to find him when he vanishes.

He's wealthy and doesn't mind paying for things - all the things - but he'll be stubborn if you try to give him an expensive gift or pay for a date night when he's already offered to. He sees it as caring for you, and he might be slow to accept why you feel guilty about it or refuse his offers.

#arcana twilight #arcana twilight alpheratz #arcana twilight alpheratz x reader #arcana twilight alpheratz x gn!reader #arcana twilight x reader #arcana twilight fanfiction #arcana twilight headcanons #arcana twilight fluff #sfw alphabet: alpheratz

133 notes · View notes

saintsenara · 2 months

Note

Been reading through your ship asks and cackling at your responses for the better part of the last hour, so I thought I’d ask some of my own! Alright, here we go:

Sybill Trelawney/Barty Crouch Jr.

Molly Weasley/Sirius Black

Igor Karkaroff/Severus Snape

Great-Aunt Muriel/Arabella Figg

thanks anon, great choices. it's always a pleasure to meet someone with taste.

barty crouch jr./sybill trelawney

yes, one hundred percent.

we know that "moody" was committed to searching every teacher's office [such a method actor, he walked so lady gaga in house of gucci could run], and trelawney's was definitely given a thorough going over [behave] so that barty could report back to the gaffer that the prophecy wasn't just gathering dust in her filing cabinets.

and - well - she's starved for company, isn't she? it's the easiest thing in the world for her to suggest that they crack open a bottle of sherry and complain about what a knob snape is.

plus, she's canonically not very good at divination, so she's bound to miss that her tealeaves have arranged themselves into a red flag.

sirius black/molly weasley

obviously, the easy way round this pairing is to make it a sort of hate-sex thing, in which molly and sirius fire themselves up for a night of passion by arguing over who's right about harry. the easy-and-also-degenerate way round it is to connect it to sirius'... complicated relationship with his mother...

but a hill i'll die on is that this fandom really overestimates the tension between molly and sirius in order of the phoenix [and also, to be quite frank, that she's in the right...], and that their relationship can actually be explored really interestingly without the idea that they hate each other.

while we know that molly conducts missions for the order, her primary role in the period 1995-1998 is a domestic one. she's the person who is responsible for things like making grimmauld place habitable, or for feeding the collected members of the order. the importance of domestic and caring work within resistance and revolutionary organisations is really overlooked - because of misogyny! - but it's something which is absolutely vital to those organisations being able to carry out their aims.

and the series does actually show us this - even if unintentionally. order meetings frequently take place in the kitchen around mealtimes. the domestic spaces of grimmauld place and the burrow serve not only as organisational bases but also as centres of support and community for order members [tonks coming round to see molly for tea and sympathy; lupin being asked to christmas at the burrow; snape's refusal to eat with the order being considered further evidence that he's a prick, and so on]. the difficulty molly has with bringing grimmauld place under control serves as a metaphor for the order's struggle against voldemort.

which brings us to sirius during order of the phoenix.

one of the things i think is often overlooked when we think about sirius' depression and feelings of uselessness while he's confined to grimmauld place is that these stem from him holding the belief that the only viable way of helping the war effort is to take a combat role. one of sirius' great tragedies is that he's reckless and self-destructive - and part of how this manifests is that he can only see value in being someone who fights, who's out and about, and who's putting himself at risk for the cause. he's unable to consider himself useful to the order outside of that context - which is why he chafes so much against the idea that staying in the house and remaining safe is crucial work, in that the very fact of him living protects harry.

you can do so much with the idea that - once the kids are back at school - the only people rattling around grimmauld place all day every day are molly and sirius, and that she spends her time trying to chivvy him into recognising that the domestic labour she'd quite like his help with is really the only thing holding the rag-tag order together. he's not going to give a shit at first, but he can learn...

and food and love exist on both sides of a coin marked comfort, don't they?

igor karkaroff/severus snape

i mean, this one's basically canon, isn't it? karkaroff's always sneaking around trying to catch snape on his own in cupboards so he can have a look at his forearm-length snake [tattoo]. it's giving "hooked up once but only one of them realises it wasn't going anywhere".

arabella figg/muriel prewett

yes. they broke up when one of mrs figg's cats pissed on that goblin-made tiara.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #unhinged and deranged ships

24 notes · View notes

the-arkhamwolf · 7 months

Text

Reverse Robins Tim Drake

I have a lot of Reverse Robin Aus so I thought it would be fun to compare the different versions of Characters in each starting with Tim

Falling in Reverse

My first ever Reverse Robins deals with Tim's many self-worth issues. In this version Tim dies due to his fear of failure.

Tim was a neglect child that felt he had to earn every thing including his place as Robin. After his Parents died he moved into Wayne manner. Damian wasn't much help making Tim feel like he didn't belong.

Things got better between them but Tim's never got over that feeling of not belonging. He never spoke out on this just worked hard to prove himself. Believing Robin was the only reason he wasn't tossed aside. So when he was benched, due to him "Not being fit to be on the feild", he took that badly and went out to prove himself. Overworked and paranoid he walked into a trap that ended his to short life.

Tim then takes a dip in the pit and wakes up cold and reserved. Ras is amazed believing that the pit had no affect on him, that was indeed far from true. The pit gave Tim a different kind of rage, a quite rage, something Ras would come to realizes was far scarier.

For a while Tim stays with the league learning and waiting. During this time Ras tries to brain wash Tim and he plays along. But the truth is Ras never had Tim under his control. When Tim is ready to leave he sets off his plan basically destroying the league. He then confronts Ras and kills him. This is Tim's first kill and while Ras doesn't stay dead (Thanks to the pit) He becomes fearful of Tim.

Tim is able to control the pit (for the most part) making it safer for those around but deadly for those he deems as a threat.

He goes back to Gotham and despite Ras best efforts Tim doesn't hate the bats and even feels relieved Bruce took another Robin. After all Tim wasn't really suppose to be Robin.

Tim blames himself for his death and thinks he has brought great shame to batman and Robin. Tim sees himself as a failure that does not deserve to rejoin the bats, this is reinforced by the pit. So he works to protect the bats doing the dirty work to keep their hands clean.

Some people deserve to die and that's where he comes in. Because Batman doesn't kill and Damian should never be put in that spot again, not after how far he has come. Tim sees himself as a necessary evil.

He actually has a great relationship with his replacement even if he didn't mean to. He works hard to make sure the kid is safe. Jason is a great kid and will never go through what Tim did. He and Damian have a complicated relationship but both still care for each other.

He gets along with Cass pretty well even if they disagree on killing. He thinks Steph is the funniest thing ever and loves to watch her annoy Damian.

Tim leads the outlaws which is him, Roy, and Rose. Tim doesn't need friends he needs to focus on his work. Roy refuses to let that happen and somehow sneaks his way into being friends without Tim realizing it.

Rose flirts with Tim at first because it always flustered him but slowly they grow to like each other.

Tim is touch starved and he is the only one that doesn't see that as a problem. He also is a workaholic so Rose and Roy have to keep an eye on him and make him take breaks.

Tim has a deep love of photography even as Red hood. It a way to connect him to his past and Robin.

(Spoiler- When he becomes a dad He leaves the role of Red Hood and becomes a new paper photographer)

Something I love about this version: Tim has deep love of Fnaf that drives everyone crazy

The Watchers

The Watchers is a much more darker take on reverse robins and the main reason is because Tim doesn't die. Watchers switching things up a bit with Tim having a good relationship with his parents. Tim is still a little sneaks out and becomes Robin.

Damian and Tim's relationship is much worse in this version. With Damian being jealous of Tim and his family. After Tim's parents die he moves in with Bruce and Damian becomes angry. (Damian is a lot more resentful due to stuff that happens to him but this is about Tim right now)

One night Damian cuts Tim line and he crashed into a building. It doesn't paralyze him but it does give him permanent back problemsAfter that Tim became stayed on for another year as Oracle, A whole year of putting up with Damian's harsh insults and mocking unable to do anything. Finally, Tim had enough, quit the hero game altogether.

He leaves Gotham only to be brought back a few years later by an un expected visitor. Batman has stepped down and Gotham is full of crime and the Court of owls is at the center of it all. There is going to be a purge on Gotham Tim hates this city but it was his home. He and this guy name Jason team up to take back Gotham.

As so as he moves back Tim started having nightmares. He doesn't get much sleep and his back is not going to let him go into the feild so He becomes SkyWatcher. The court finds out about him and sends a talon after his. Turns out it's a child (Dick Grayson). He decides he's going to bring him home and raise him. It takes a while to earn the child trust.

Tim comes across Rose and the two ends up have a relationship sort-of like batman and cat women.

Tim has a deep resentment for photography because it reminds him of Batman and robin. He also hates Damian and this gets worse when Damian takes Stephanie under his wing and makes her Robin.

Something I love about this version: Tim trying to raise a kid that is constantly trying to stab him

Falling Slowly

Falling Slowly is not exactly a Reverse robins set up as Tim is actually the oldest. While Watchers is the darkest version I think this is the saddest.

Tim parents weren't around much so he would sneak out at night to take pictures of Batman. Batman gets injured one night and Tim is forced to reveal himself to help Bruce.

After Alfred patch Bruce up he imminently takes Tim home telling him to not sneak out anymore. Of course, Tim didn't listen because someone needs to be there to help Batman when he's in trouble.

Eventually, Bruce gave up and started training him, not to fight but to protect himself. Tim started helping Bruce with cases and spent a lot of time at the cave. He was given the code name backup but he's not allowed to join in the fighting.

Everything was great until Tims's parents got killed during a robbery. Bruce took him in ahd tried to help him. Feeling guilt about his death Tim tried to go out and avenge his parents but Bruce stoped him. He made Tim his side kick hoping it would help Tim the same way Batman helped him. And it did Tim became less restless and more focused.

Tim become Cardinal but because of how tiny he is the media started calling him Robin. Tim hated this but he got tired of correcting people. While Robin Tim and another sidekick he was freinds with got attacked. Tim only got minnor injuries but the friend was nearly killed and lost the ability to walk. Tim blamed himself and started to spiral lucky someone was there to pull him out.

After Tim graduated he moved out to go to college. He came home for the weekend to find that he had a little brother.

Tim is beyond thrilled, he always wanted a little brother. Jason was a little standoffish at first but eventually warms up to him. Tim spends his weekends training Jason and eventually passing down the mantle of Robin to Jason once he's ready.

Tim couldn't help but blame himself because he gave Jason the suit. Tim dropped out of school and moved back to Gotham to keep an eye on Bruce. He gets a job at W.E. and becomes Redwing. Tim is in a spiral and no one seems to be able to pull him out until Selena goes a talks to her. She manages to convince to get therapy.

Therapy ends up helping Tim still has a long way to go but there's diffently an improvement.

The therapist advises him on getting a therapy dog. Tim's skeptical after all his mother had taught him dogs were fealty creatures that would chew him up.

However while working on a case he finds Ace a poor German shepherd that has been mistreated and hurt. The dog tries to tear him to pieces so He brings it him. Slow he earns Ace's trust after taming him some work he takes to a class to get him trained. Ace doesn't care for other humans or dogs but he has gotten to the point where he chooses to ignore rather then attack.

Ace complete trust Tim and Tim complete trust Him.

One day while walking in the cave he was attacked by a child assassin aka Bruce's son Damian. Damian doesn't like Tim at first but Tim keeps an eye on him because the kid is his little brother.

One day Damian walked up to Tim and Bruce and demanded the Robin mantel. Tim puts his foot down before Bruce could say anything reminding him of what happened to Jason.

One night Damian steals the Robin suit and sneaks out. He runs into Red hood and somehow the villain knows his every move. Luckily Tim comes to the recuse, unlucky Tim isn't prepared to deal with this.

Something I love about this version: Tim loves to skateboard and even teaches Ace how too

Brand new Au

While my first Reverse Robins has Tim having a bad live and then dying this newest one has Tim being happy then dying. Okay Tim's parents are still neglectful and he still gets a ruff start as Robin (or whatever name I use) but the rest is pretty happy.

It all starts when Damian gets shot. He's not killed but he's is paralyzed from the waste down. Damian had been Robin Tim's hero and Batman's sidekick. After getting shot he left Gotham leading to a much darker Bruce. Batman needs Robin, Tim didn't sign up for this but here his is.

Bruce is better but he and Damian still aren't talk. Tim decides to put a stop to that. Damian and Tim get off to a rocky start with Damian finding Tim annoying and aslo having an underlying resentment for the kid Tim doesn't care.

Slowly the little brats grows on him and Damian does come back to Gotham. The two become pretty close. Damian convinces Tim's Parents to let Bruce adopt him and Tim moves in.

Tim is a people pleaser so Damian makes sure no one takes advantage of him. And Tim makes sure Damian doesn't bet himself up over mistakes.

Tim effectively becomes friends with a villans daughter and takes her under his wing. Stephine trains under Tim to become the next Robin

Tim plans to leave the mental to start his own team but is to nervous to tell anyone by Damian and Stephanie.

Tim gets hurt bad on a patrol trying to help someone. Damians on the headset the entire time talking to him as Tim lays bleeding out.

Tim's death spits the family apart and cause Steph to leave. L

Tim comes back via Lazarus pit plays Ra's, destroys the Lazarus pit, leaves the league in shabbles than starts up his own team with Roy and Rose.

He can't control yhe pit messes with his head making him cold and dangerous so he stays away from the bats to protect them.

Cass is sent to kill Tim instead he takes her and trains her she in return becomes his unrequest body guard. He trys to give her as normal a life as he's can.

One big difference between this and Falling in reverse is that in FR Tim had his own run down apartment. Where as her all of the outlaws live together in an abandoned building.

Something I love about this version: Tim ands Cass's siblings dynamic I just find this adorable

Wrap up

Falling in Reverse: Ashamed Red hood in desperate need of a hug

The Watchers: Tired dad with back problems and a murderous child

Falling Slowly: Guilty older brother trying to make up for the past

Brand New Au: Scared Red hood who pushes everyone away

What character would you like to see next?

If there's you have any queston or want me to to talk more something of one of these drop it in my inbox

Also I need a name for my band new au if anyone has a suggestion

#batfam #reverse batfam #reverse robins #Tim drake #The wolfverse #red hood #damian wayne #batman #fanfic #au #Robin #dc

36 notes · View notes

spicedrobot · 6 months

Text

what was lost, what was gained ch. 4

SO i actually split this chapter into two! so that means another maul POV for the next installment! beta by @withercrown 💕

His world was small. Maul knew it hadn’t always been this way. He felt the hardened muscles beneath his skin, his hair trigger instincts—alert, always prepared to strike.

There were also the dreams. They contained fragments of his past that he was unable to piece together. The glow of ray shields, a looming, pale human with lined, tired eyes. Obi-Wan, bright and smooth with youth, shouting soundlessly. Tall, unyielding droids. Always attacking, always hurting. Even when Maul ripped them to pieces, they returned. Someone was fixing them. Someone who whispered, conspired. Someone who waited in the dark, who could hardly be differentiated from it. Black, crimson. Yellow. It hurt Maul’s head to dwell too long on the last, so he didn’t. There were more pleasant things to occupy his time.

This small world kept him fed. Three meals a day. An astounding amount, he thought, without knowing why. He feasted. He felt stronger, more centered. The aches of his mechanical half were lessened by proper maintenance. Pain he never realized he carried softened, a long held breath released. He couldn’t leave his cell, but he wasn’t harmed. The guards were fearful of him, but they never acted upon their feelings.

This small world was rife with small mercies. Each felt mollifying, ridiculous, as if he should reel back, snap his teeth from the sentiment alone. He had let that instinct take him, when he had first awoke in the medbay. Still indulged, when the mood struck. Especially in the presence of the commander, who entertained him so wonderfully. Anger in the line of his shoulders, in the terse, crooked frown on his scarred, handsome face. Maul wanted to torment him, so he did.

Giving into instinct, however, was far more complicated with Obi-Wan. When Maul had first seen him, he became awash in emotion. Anger first, blinding in its suddenness and intensity. Fear too, just as potent. He was overwhelmed, and that hatred turned inward, felt so much like weakness, tearing at his nerves.

Then came Obi-Wan’s soft words. His softer touch. Gentleness in thought and Force and hand. Maul’s instinct had not been to yield, but yield he had. Maybe it had been the strangeness of the general in the Force. Twinges of emotions within careful calm. Sorrow, confusion, hurt—aching and deep—smoothed over. Accepted.

Maul wanted to know why.

But his questions went unanswered. Quieted by clever words or smooth deflections. Even when he raised his voice, it didn’t give him what he wanted. That damned neutral mask would appear, and a silence would descend. A durasteel stubbornness. It was like Obi-Wan would disappear, and a statue would take his place. In that moment, worse than the lack of memory, was the sensation of loneliness. Maul didn’t want to be alone.

No… it was something more than that. There was something about Obi-Wan that connected them. Something the commander or his troops didn’t provide. Not camaraderie, but perhaps… the knowledge that somehow, only Obi-Wan understood him. They were kindred.

It felt secretive, embarrassing. His mind rallied against it, even as he longed to know more. He wanted to discover what they shared, map its outline, test its strength.

What followed was a keen sense of possessiveness. Outside of whatever connection they had, Obi-Wan was also handsome, powerful. He offered aid to all who asked him of it, even if he suffered for his efforts. He performed for others unquestioningly, as easy and unremarkable as breathing. Perhaps that was why Maul couldn’t help but torment the lovesick commander. If anyone could be a rival for attention, it was him.

But Obi-Wan acted differently with Maul that he did with his soldiers. He felt no qualms about entering his cell. He tended Maul’s wounds personally, even after the worst of them had healed. He even stood alongside the repair droid as Maul’s legs underwent maintenance. Most incriminating, however, was his casual physicality. A touch to the shoulder. His cheek. Adjusting him just so. Innocuous. Gentle.

Completely unnecessary.

But it wasn’t just attraction, or pity. There was something more. It was how he looked at Maul’s legs. Or rather, how he didn’t. Whenever he undressed for the repair droid, Obi-Wan kept his eyes trained elsewhere. It wasn’t for his own modesty, either. He had been naked for each of his full body check-ups.

It made Maul itch. There was something unspoken. Something he needed to know. And their time together was growing shorter by the hour.

The truth would have to be pried from Obi-Wan—but gently. As gently as Maul had been handled.

He peered at Obi-Wan through the ray shields. The man sat cross legged in front of the cell, not in the commander’s seat, but on the floor. He was deep in meditation. Another connection they shared: their need for stillness, for centering the mind. The red, hazy tint softened the lines of Obi-Wan’s face, the sleeplessness beneath his eyes. Maul knew he was the cause of this distress. It saddened him. It pleased him.

“Obi-Wan,” Maul murmured. The Jedi opened his eyes and looked up, head tilted in question.

Maul needed him closer. The ray shields dulled his own senses. “Would you mediate with me?” He gestured to the inside of the cell.

The man smiled, tired but true. “Of course.”

As easily as that, they knelt, facing each other. Eyes closed, palms up. Relaxed. They were synchronous in a way that exhilarated and terrified. Though Maul hadn’t planned for it, he did give in to meditation. He was not welcome at Obi-Wan’s side. He knew that, even before he had picked apart Cody’s mind. Their time together was borrowed. But that part of him quieted with each shared breath, in the ebb and flow of manifested calm.

He returned to himself before Obi-Wan did. He watched the man until he could bear it no longer: his light eyelashes, his freckles and scars, his hair threaded through with slivers of gray. Then he stood up and sat on the edge of his cot. The change in position put a hair more space between them. He could look down on Obi-Wan. And when the man would stir—Maul’s legs would be the first thing he saw.

It was like watching the sure stroke of a chrono as Obi-Wan’s eyes opened and focused, then slid away like running water. “Maul…?”

“May we speak candidly, Obi-Wan?” Maul asked. He kept his voice soft and even. Not quite a whisper. “Our time grows short.”

Obi-Wan looked up at him. Maul met that unsteady gaze with certainty. Obi-Wan didn’t move to stand, and Maul didn’t suggest it. The man stayed kneeling, almost bracketed by Maul’s legs. Just enough space for deniability.

Maul felt steady and clear. His words came in a flow.

“I am your enemy. That much is certain. I have caused you great pain… as you have caused it in me. We are entwined by fate.” He touched his torso, dragged a finger along the minute slice of scar tissue that was visible above his metal half. Obi-Wan’s gaze shot down, caught the gesture, froze. “Do you covet it, Obi-Wan? The body you’ve ruined? The creature you’ve made of me?”

A stillness settled over the cell, a pressure more intense than what they shared in meditation. How Obi-Wan’s blue eyes widened, how they gleamed! Maul had only guessed at the identity of his almost-killer… but Obi-Wan had admitted it without saying a single word.

There was a sadness in the discovery, a loss of ignorance that kept whatever tentative truce between them alive. But a glee rose from it too, unbidden. A victory had been won here.

Maul leaned forward. He grasped Obi-Wan’s chin. His gloved thumb slid beneath his lower lip, disturbing the bristles of his beard. A mirror of the first gentle touch Maul could remember in this small world.

“So you won’t deny it. Your crime. Your shame. Your desire.”

There was resistance, however slight, but it was quelled as Maul tightened his grip. The bald shock in Obi-Wan’s expression changed, hardened. This now, was an expression Maul recognized, even if he had never seen it before. Though it was a false anger. He felt Obi-Wan swallow, smelled the prickle of fresh sweat, warm and saline. Not anger. Nervousness.

“You don’t understand. You can’t,” Obi-Wan murmured. The muscles in his jaw jumped in Maul’s hand.

“Do you understand it yourself?” Maul growled back. “You have what I do not. Power. Freedom. I have only this…” He let his eyes travel around his cell before he met Obi-Wan’s gaze once more. “I have only you.” He loosened his grip, though he was loath to do it. Afraid to do it. His own heartbeats quickened when Obi-Wan did not pull away. “And even that is temporary.”

There was a line that Cody would not cross, would not even consider. Obi-Wan toed this line with Maul. The want was there, palpable in the pulse of his heart, the dilation of his eyes, the quickness of his breath.

It was a line Maul thought little of crossing. He pressed his thumb on Obi-Wan’s lower lip. He was unsure if the pressure itself opened Obi-Wan’s mouth, or if the man had simply done what he was demanding, what was instinctive to him.

Maul leaned down and brought their lips together.

#fics #obimaul #maulobi #wwlwwg #darth maul #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #star wars

14 notes · View notes