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astarlightmonbebe · 9 months

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episode 5 has left me considering the different - and similar - ways taeyoung and kwonsook think about themselves, and how they respond to pain/violence.

kwonsook calls herself a monster, someone who goes crazy in the boxing ring. that monster, she says, was created by her father, and her father used abuse, violence, and emotional manipulation to create that monster. he didn’t treat her like human, so it’s no surprise that the way she talks about herself when she boxes is as if she’s discussing an animal: she gets cornered, gets scared for her life, and lashes out to kill. she calls herself a monster with resignation; it’s not what she wanted to be, but she knows it’s what she was. she ran away to escape that monstrosity, to live as a human, doing good things, but that part of her never really died.

taeyoung, too, calls himself a monster. he’s a SOB, he does thing no one with an ounce of humanity would do. he seemingly has no qualms about what he does, perhaps because he can always justify it to himself, always has an exit prepared for when things really get bad (until, i’m sure, he doesn’t). like kwonsook, taeyoung accepts the label of monster, accepts his own inhumanity, even if they are inhuman in very different ways. whereas kwonsook wants to break away from that monstrous part of her - she’s only returned so she can free herself from that part of herself permanently (and if she finds a way to box without a monster, then...) - taeyoung embraces it. it’s through being a monster that he’s found success, how he secures futures for his athletes, and how he’s able to ‘solve’ their (and his) issues. monstrosity was not imposed on taeyoung, but (due to what we know so far) is something he chose for himself (although the factors surrounding this part of his past are decidedly murky).

in this episode, taeyoung and kwonsook also demonstrate similar responses to violence and (emotional) pain. when taeyoung upsets kwonsook by working with her father behind her back, he offers her an outlet for her anger by punching him. later on, after ahreum has already slapped kwonsook, instead of lashing out, kwonsook offers to let ahreum hit her again if it will make her feel better. in parallel responses, both ahreum and kwonsook debate taking that opportunity to hurt, but decide not to (kwonsook because she’s taking a chance on taeyoung, or moreso giving him another one, and ahreum because she decides that she doesn’t owe kwonsook that, that kwonsook is beneath her in terms of boxing, no longer on her level).

kwonsook learned to respond to pain at a young age. in boxing, you can’t flinch from the hit - you have to learn how to take the pain, absorb it, and get back up to hit again. outside of the rink, kwonsook absorbs the pain, but she doesn’t hit again. she’s experienced firsthand what her hits can do to people, and that terrified her. after all, she only boxed so that she could protect her mother. so when confronted with violence and pain, she takes the hit, because pain is what she knows and understands. it’s the emotions behind it that are hard for her. pain is easy for kwonsook, because she’s used to living through it, surviving it; beneath it, she’s always empty. she’s never really cared about boxing; it was what she had to do. the lee kwonsook that was a boxing genius was a monster she ran from, after all. but in order to break away from that monster, she has to come to understand the emotional investment of her fellow female boxers. before, they were just her opponents, never her friends, but now she has to face their own feelings about the sport, the passion they have for boxing that she never felt. like ara said, she didn’t feel happiness about winning, and kwonsook has never lost, so she’s never had to live with that humiliation, either. how her feelings will change in relation to boxing will likely be a reckoning for her.

taeyoung, on the other hand, is confronting his fair share of non-boxing sanctioned boxing. even though kwonsook is the boxer, it’s taeyoung who’s been touched by ‘true’ violence in this present timeline. his life is quite literally on the line, which has been shown again and again. he’s been ambushed by her father, threatened, blackmailed, and beaten up by chairman nam’s guys. he lives on the edge, anxious at every shadow, which is chewing him alive. to him, kwonsook’s anger is much easier to deal with. he knows she might hurt him, but his potential to hurt her is so much more (and if he does, in that case he’d find her anger justified, and probably let her beat him to death or something if what we’ve seen of his feelings for her is an indication of anything), and she might hurt him, but she’d never hurt him as much as other people in his life at the moment would (i.e. by killing him, or hurting the people he cares about). taeyoung is used to weathering the storm of other people’s dislike; he’s the scumbag, and he does bad things, deserves other people’s anger when it’s directed at him.

both taeyoung and kwonsook want to resolve things through violence. i think it’s telling that despite being two emotionally aware people, they both consider other people’s feelings to be so easily taken care of. they want the quick, instant pain, and then they want to get it over with. because the violence is what they’re used to, and to a degree it’s what they both think they deserve. however, what lies beneath that, what doesn’t go away with a single hit, is much harder for them to confront and understand.

#star stumbles #my lovely boxer #kdrama #my thoughts #in boxing you get hit and you hit someone else and whoever is still standing wins #and it's basically that way in the whole world of (physical) sports #and it's going to be so so good when they both end up embroiled in the very emotional situation that they both want to avoid at all costs #ie their feelings for each other / betrayal / broken trust / fear #i think i ended this poorly i kind of got distracted and honestly...honestly i don't KNOW what their response to violence really says #or how it's going to be played with throughout the drama #this text is the bare bones of what i can understand through what i've seen #and oh yes even though i know some people might argue that they're not emotionally aware i think they are...#both very emotionally mature. despite their actions they both know what's up in their hearts #and they're very adept at reading one another (or at least taeyoung is towards kwonsook i think she's getting there but she's also trying to #distance herself from him so. i do think she's ignoring some of what she'll probably reinterpret later on #nobody made taeyoung a monster he chose that path vs kwonsook left the path as soon as she was able to #and her getting punished for his bad deeds...even though at the end she admits they're both scumbags for going through with this deal #because she's understood that she'll hurt boxing whether good things come out of it or not #because she'll be disrespecting ahreum and everyone else by rigging the match and losing on purpose #which will probably add to her conflict later on #and taeyoung simultaneously struggles with not wanting to string her along vs stringing her along #because he's been upfront with her about how he's a bad person and she sees it too but ALSO #he can't bring himself to tell her some of the worst things because he wants her to see him differently #like he wants to act like a good person for her but also knows he needs her #honestly their relationship dynamic reminds me so much of my liberation notes #it's the ahjussi / disenchanted two people approaching each other and something ending up growing there where they thought nothing would #again

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crystalkitty1220 · 7 months

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Welcome back to tumblr! Hope you enjoyed your break

It was very stressful. Ended up failing the marking period for English, but not by as much as I was failing before. Could still pull up the overall grade by the end of the semester.

#started writing a fic a few days ago. been a while since ive done that.#so far felix is very out of character but he's only gonna be the focus for the first chapter. plus i might go back and rewrite him.#maybe i should wait until the new chapter comes out tho so it's relevant to updated canon #anyway echos started brainrotting about chris in a /pos way so yeah a lot of my break has been rethinking old analysis #started to notice that he's a lot more fun if i get in the mindset that he's not poorly written he's just literally isaac's antagonist #also my siblings have been hyperfixating on DC so i watched a batman series. i think they're very disappointed in me for choosing batwheels.#snowy best vehicle #. what else #oh ive been doodling a nightmare design #been liking the idea of him and dream not being skeletons but dont wanna draw/write them as their canon human designs #because (if i'm correct) they get those designs at some point later in the story. and i don't want to confuse the timeline like that.#so ive been working on concept sketches for a less human design for them. ive also noticed that them being humans in canon actually #makes a lot of sense because the other guardians don't really have any connection between their species and it can be assumed that #whatever they are exists in the universes/multiverse they're from. so it makes sense for the twins to be humans because the utmv has humans.#. but i also like how they couldn't be given the human forms at first because of the lack of holes.#so the design im working on has gill/stripe-looking vents for the energy to come out of.#also gonna try to add little fire wisps into the design because i love their true forms so much #anyway i dont think there's been more that ive done. other than schoolwork. and watching qsmp.#oh i started working on an animatic. but i do that all the time. it'll be a bigger occasion if i finish one lol.#think im gonna still keep interaction on tumblr to a smaller scale because i wanna keep getting stuff done

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welcometogrouchland · 2 years

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"aaaand he's right behind me, isn't he?" Is an overplayed joke but I think ppl are focusing too much on the joke out of context like. It's not the line itself that's the problem, I've seen this joke done well, the problem with this kind of overplayed quip is when assembly line blockbusters use it as a substitute for actual characterization and thought out jokes with set up and pay off.

Like I saw an article that described the Russo bros dialogue in their latest film as feeling like placeholders for funnier jokes meant to be added later, and that's very much what "and he's right behind me" is being used to represent in the recent wave of memes parodying it and movies that feature it- it's dialogue that could be funny in the right context but reads as annoying, insincere and overplayed because writers and directors employ it just as a way to

a) self parody in a way that creates distance between the film and the audience- which is distance from criticism, yes, but also distance that halts all investment and identification between the story and audience

and b) make their job easier at the cost of quality. Because "he's right behind me, isn't he?" Is a tried and true joke that doesn't tell us anything about the character saying it other than "they're meant to be funny and sarcastic and likeable" in the most generic sense of all those words

because a blandly likeable protagonist is easy to write, and they want things that are easy to write so they can put them on the assembly line. Which is frustrating but I do understand it's mostly a product of corporate monopoly and strangling studios. I'm sure most of these writers would like to make something better but just. Cannot be bothered to when the film is guaranteed money based on brand name clout alone AND they have to deal with execs who micromanage projects that fall under their 'brand'. Why write jokes that feel specific to the characters you've created, or engineer characters with comedy in mind? Thats too personal and gimmicky and high effort- slap a one-liner on them and now you've got the human equivalent of a palette cleanser when you flit between summer mega movies. Except every meal is a palette cleanser, and in the end, it tastes like nothing at all.

#ramblings of a lunatic #sorry i just. saw something that annoyed me #where they judged the quality of a thing (admittedly a thing i like so I'm very biased here!) by the fact that they personally felt #that it was the kind of show that would include a ''hes right behind me isn't he?'' joke #and it's like. i get what you're going for and other parts of your post are more coherent in your grievances #(you think it's generic)#but like. idk i just feel like turning specific lines that are overplayed but ultimately neutral on their own-#-into shorthand for ''generic and bad'' is like. gonna be unhelpful in the long run #idk feel free to add on to this with expansions or anything you think i got factually wrong if i did say something completely untrue #just like be civil yknow. like i have good faith for the ppl who follow me don't get me wrong I'm just. not in the mood rn for tomfoolery #this is highly unedited and i might wake up tomorrow and find it incomprehensible or just. poorly articulated #but for now you're getting my moaning and groaning as is. o natural babey #Anyway yes- mega blockbusters made on an assembly line are bad and they produce bad movies.#But it's less to do with a couple individual words that appear often and more abt the conditions surrounding their production.#it's why i keep calling them assembly line blockbusters #to the person who once compared the mcu to cinematic fast food...hows it feel to be so deeply correct #(fast food good sometimes and I have nostalgic favourites but by god it cannot be all i eat or I will get very sick)

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daesungindistress · 2 years

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Hey explain GD's Kwondo Panda. Didn't know he into pandas all of a sudden. Is he trying to save the species from extinction or something? He's such a hero! GD for pandas!!!

OR could he be coming out with a whole line of wildlife based shoes?!?!? Oh my stars and stripes!!! So looking forward to the following ones, Kwondo Porcupine and Kwondo Hippo.

Everybody knows what/who those 5 lines represent. Don't kid yourself. Remember the sweet ending of Still Life? Those 5 lines are GOLDEN.

FYI for obvious reasons, the remaining members aren't allowed to outwardly support him but that doesn't mean that you are right. Also do remember, you are able to emotionally support someone without supporting what they had done. Some people have a heart and are able to forgive. Give it a try! Being bitter all your life won't get you anywhere.

Gladly. "Panda" is a marketing term used by Nike to describe a specific white/black colorway on their products. The name "Panda" isn't exclusive to GD and has been used on other Nike shoes, which you can easily confirm with a quick Google search. Pandas galore. GD did not come up with or assign the name "Panda" to this variant of the Kwondo. Nike did. What, did you think he designed a special line of sneakers to honor Seungri? Wow, get real.

The small minds of your kind are as miserably one-tracked as ever I see, and not grounded in reality. You plague rats have to stop making fools of yourselves and making everything about that man. Forcing your delusional bullshit about a convicted sex offender onto the BIGBANG members does absolutely no one any favors. Not you, not me, not BIGBANG, not even Seungri. The phoney public image you fell head-over-heels in love with is over, as is his time in the group he left. The group that has just now begun to recover their careers after he set them back years, continuing their journey forward without him in a song and video that delivered a message unequivocally in support of four. There's no such thing as a fifth season. When Seungri is released from prison next February, he will be required to enter his personal information on a national registry for sex crimes, per court order. He is not under any circumstances (outside of one's imagination) returning to BIGBANG, and BIGBANG are not returning to him. Deal with it. And by that I don't mean deny it. God knows y'all have done enough of that.

The five lines logo. Is everyone in agreement about what that logo represents today? Are they really? Because the fact that there are KVIPS still happily displaying it -- KVIPs who have no love for Seungri and mobilized en masse to deplatform him from Instagram immediately after his conviction -- should be giving you second thoughts about how it's perceived by different groups of VIPs. And this KDCKV person isn't an isolated instance. She's just one of many.

As for the MADE logo at the end of the Still Life music video, it was significant, but not in the way you think. Sadly, BIGBANG's strong sense of narrative seems lost on folk like you. It's very basic of you to reduce the MADE logo to a number when it can be seen as so much more than that. It also seems incongruous to tout it as a statement about holding on tightly in the context of a song and video whose message is of leaving the past behind. BIGBANG's use of those familiar lines at the end of the video more than likely signals the formal conclusion to BIGBANG's MADE era. The final installment, an outro of sorts, and the closure we all needed.

BIGBANG coming back to reunite with fans when the flowers were blooming was the fulfillment of the promise made in Flower Road, which was itself a continuation of MADE. In this way Still Life establishes itself as the completion of that story arc in BIGBANG's history (get it? History. Sorry, couldn't resist). There's so much beauty and poetry in the way they worked in references to Flower Road and Last Dance and other themes that were prevalent throughout MADE, then, as a finishing touch, used their old logo that marked the ends of MADE era music videos to say goodbye to that time of their lives, to offer a eulogy, an "in loving memory" before the new beginning, tying up a loose end and closing the book on a chapter of the band that had been left open for far too long. Keep the memories but move on.

Too bad it's too much for simple-mindeds like you. By viewing BIGBANG's artistry through such a narrow lens, by boiling everything of theirs down to the one who gave everything up, you're missing out on something great. Truly.

(However, if you insist on interpreting the MADE logo as meaning five, then you're more than welcome to see it as the members saying goodbye to five.)

BIGBANG have signaled their intent to pick themselves up and start anew amid the ruins of the worst reputational devastation they've ever faced as a group, and so far, their hard work and their resolve to remake themselves as something better than before has their future as four looking very promising. Stop shoehorning the source of that devastation back in where it doesn't belong. Stop standing in the way of healing. Stop standing in the way of BIGBANG's new beginning.

#bigbang #ask #anon #the logo confused me at first #because it was completely at odds with the abundance of 'four' messaging in the concept... teasers... song... and video #it seemed to me contradictory and out of place #however a look at the reactions from kvips quickly reassured me #kvips who grasp the lyrics full of figurative speech and understand bigbang's journey better than any of us #could ever hope to #it was kind of a 💡 moment #and I realized I needed to be more open-minded about the made logo #that the actions of this troubled fandom had made me come to loathe #I decided to work on myself a little bit and not be so quick to think the worst or take offense #that said #the notion that bigbang crafted a whole music video showing their fans that despite the distance and years apart #they're four at heart #repeatedly I might add #only to turn around at the very end -- at the very last second -- and say 'sike! we're five'#is far-fetched at best #and reflects poorly on the bb members to boot #so five-member fans should check themselves and stop declaring victory over something bigbang didn't say #still life #spring summer fall winter #the four seasons #kwondo

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southislandwren · 2 years

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okay talking points for my meeting with the plant manager today: 1. i'm currently on enough cold medicine to kill a horse 2. i am soo symptomatic right now. listen to how hard i cough every five minutes 3. i literally cannot focus and i get lightheaded if i stand up for more than 10 minutes. look how hard im shaking right now. 4. *literally just start crying* 5. i've had two separate employers comment on how dependable and reliable i am so maybe this is just a you problem.

#hes pissing me off and if he's not careful in this meeting he's gonna lose a fucking employee #i didn't call off willy nilly i talked to my mom and she said to take it easy today #you know whats not easy? 3 hours of ice cream freezing #or god forbid if todays a cheese day #im already nauseous if they add the smell of fresh cheese i'll fucking puke #i am 100% going to cry in his office today. for the manipulative value and also because i am so goddamn stressed out #im symptomatic and i missed seeing my aunt and best friend last weekend and my uncle died from covid and i have all these makeup exams #and i slept for 5 hours last night because i couldnt fall asleep until 2:30 fucking am and i've barely studied or done any hw #so yeah MY BAD for making you work with 3 people instead of 4 for 3 fucking hours today. my bad #the rage is kicking in actually this might go very poorly :/#oh well at least i'll get my first paycheck and then i can see about getting a job in town or something #covid post #diary post

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boleynqueenes · 4 months

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Being as you are someone who writes about Anne Boleyn, I must ask you, which are your favorite portrayals of Anne Boleyn? I mean fiction (novels, film, tv) but also non-fiction. And, do you feel your fav portrayals have influenced you in the way you write Anne and her story? Your least favorite ones, do they have an influence too? Which ones are they? Thanks

If there's one with zero merit and/or minimal entertainment value I won't include it on the list, I'll say I'll ** = my absolute favourites and * = my compelling in some aspects, but tread with caution, and those sort of in between I'll leave alone.

Or rather, let's put it another way...* is worth a library rental or free Kindle borrow, whichever you have available, and ** is worth an actual purchase. Those without *...eh, I'll leave it to you.

The Challenge of Anne Boleyn, Hester Chapman*

Adultery, Heresy, and Desire, Amy Licence*

Raven's Widow, Adrienne Dillard**

Jane Boleyn, Julia Fox**

Among the Wolves, Lauren Mackay*

Queens of Henry VIII, David Starkey*

The Story of the Death of Anne Boleyn, Translation, Edition, and Essays by Joann DellaNeva**

The Lady Elizabeth, Alison Weir*

Renaissance Prince, Lisa Hilton*

Hunting the Falcon, John Guy & Julia Fox**

The Life & Death of Anne Boleyn, Eric Ives**

Tudors in Love, Sarah Gristwood

Tudor England: A History, Lucy Wooding**

Children of Henry VIII, John Guy*

Henry VIII by Lucy Wooding**

The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory*

The Lady in the Tower, Alison Weir*

The Lady Anne (Book 2 of 5 of Above All Others series) by Gemma Lawrence**

Judge the Best (Book 2 of 5 of Above All Others series) by Gemma Lawrence**

Threads by Nell Gavin*

In the Shadow of Lions, Ginger Garrett*

Tarnish by Katherine Longshore*

Brazen by Katherine Longshore

Anne & Henry by Dawn Ius*

Wife after Wife by Olivia Hayfield*

The King's Mind by Christopher Rae**

The Concubine by Christopher Rae**

VIII by HM Castor

Queenbreaker by Catherine McCarran

The Tudors (2007-)**

The Lovers Who Changed History (2014)**

Anne Boleyn miniseries (2021)**

Blood, Sex & Royalty (2022)**

I Am Henry: A Compelling Novel of Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII (2023)

And, do you feel your fav portrayals have influenced you in the way you write Anne and her story? Your least favorite ones, do they have an influence too? Which ones are they? Thanks

Pieces from everything influence me, Christopher Rae's and Gemma Lawrence's novels, for example, both had some of the best and credible portrayals of Henry Norris I've ever read, both in credible unrequited love (tying into, Anne's wariness thereof) that was forged into a weapon against him and for why he became such a favourite of HVIII's in the first place (would've included Jeff Lavender's thesis of Norris also, had you asked for beyond fiction and non-fiction books). The best parts of all of the above have inspired me to craft AB as a character at turns, sympathetic and unsympathetic: proud, courageous, intelligent, zealous, prudent (more in the 16c sense than 21c), fierce, jealous, sensitive, vindictive, unyielding, talented, compassionate, bold, spirited, pious, impassioned, loyal, loving ...somebody who inspired either complete devotion or implacable hatred, with very little in between, and felt comparable extremes towards her own family, friends, and adversaries.

From my least favourite...I try to remember that every choice she made was morally defensible and/or justifiable, from her own perspective, regardless of whether or not it actually was (and of course, they weren't always). I try to remember also that fear and insecurity can best explain some of her less palatable choices, as enumerated here. Basically, just that she was human and flawed, but also that there were many people personally (and often, religiously) invested in magnifying her flaws and reducing, or even outright omitting, her strengths. Obviously, that misogyny can also be a factor in some of her portrayals, is a salient remembrance to keep in mind, as well.

#pls don't judge me for some of these lol #they are all my choices for entertainment and readability #and there are actually elements of tobg i really enjoy wrt anne's characterization that if excerpted i might actually love #i love how clear-eyed ; erudite ; ambitious and passionate she was #the film adaptation is sort of like a pale reflection of that in many ways . until the one horrible SA scene the film was actually like...#not bad i just think hviii was poorly cast . the physicality but not the charisma #or just loving the dialogue #and you did specifically say for understanding /enjoying ab as a figure/ character. not necessarily the the others in her sphere #threads im going to add sa tw and also it's really only the chapters of 16c AB which had any merit #and the same sa tw for dawn ius #also technically tobg novel even if not the same as in film #she portrays mary as 13/14 so..#in some of these like TLE and HVIII her appearance is VERY brief or ancillary but i still loved #also sa tw for TLE . damn . why is this so prevalent in tudor fiction....#anon #i mean jealous in two senses of the word also:#protective and mistrustful of unfaithfulness #both understandable traits for her to have in the circumstances she was in #my least favorites are ig TOBG even tho it's technically on this list-- lol-- altho it's way more entertaining than like #TKO by alison weir and honestly also TiL in some aspects #but somehow TLE and TiL both were better than TKO and her six wives book and also her hviii and court book #the king's damsel by kate emerson.... the concubine by norah lofts...jean plaidy...margaret george

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elyjm1313 · 10 months

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#Poll #Mine is def Beethoven #I love Chopin and Tchaikovsky and Dvorak too #but good ol Ludwig has had me since I was like 6 and plunking out the right hand of Fur Elise--very poorly I might add #Classical Music #Music #Composers #If you say Wagner look at your life look at your choices #I've been playing the 2nd movement of Sonata Pathetique lately and it's just so achingly plaintive and beautiful #I was gonna delete that comment about Berlioz #but he was also a literal stalker so...

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sim0nril3y · 4 months

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Meet the Family

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon has the joy of meeting your family and finding out why don't you see or talk about them all that much. This brings up some unwanted memories and feelings for him too. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), family drama, shouting, very small mention of Simon's childhood, family disapproval, family arguing, reader has family, reader has siblings, family names are established but no descriptions, canon-typical swearing.

It appeared that your phone was making more of a ruckus than usual later. It seemed to buzz and beep much more frequently, each time your eyes cast down to check it they narrowed, then rolled before you pushed the device far, far away from where you had to interact with it. Yet still it actively vied for your attention. “Everything okay, babe?” Simon quizzed, pulling the cork out of the wine he’d chosen and beginning to pour you a glass. “Fine.” You short answer replied, picking up the glass and taking a large gulp.

Taking a seat opposite Simon battled internally about whether to push this conversation anymore. He wondered, if the situation was reversed if you would have tried to get more information out of him. Bloody hell. You would. “I just couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little… upset by your phone.” Nodding his head in the direction of the device. “Is something up?”

For a moment you paused, mauling over the situation for a moment before letting out a low huff and answering. “My sister is having a ‘get-together’ for her anniversary…” You announced with a heavy amount of disdain in your voice. “We’ve been invited.” Of course, you’d mentioned your family before but until this point Simon had never met them and the opportunity had never been there. “Honestly, I’m surprised I’m invited Anna said it’ll just be close family…”

“Well, I guess you count as close family considering you’re her sister, love.” Simon pointed out and you let out a low huff again. “Who else is going to be there?” “My mum and dad. My little brother Peter. Obviously, my older sister Anna, her husband Barney and their son Hunter.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that. It would be a lot of your family to meet at once. “And do you… want to go?”

Again, you didn’t have a response right away, eyes darting away before back towards him. “I… I don’t know…” Then shaking your head. “Anna is begging me to come, but I know that is only to get the heat off her because if I’m there then all my parent’s attention will fall to me and they will explain exactly where I’ve gone wrong with my life.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that comment, he didn’t like the thought of your family speaking poorly of you. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. “Would… you want to go?” The question came out tiny and vulnerable, like you might scare him off with that alone.

“They know about me?” Simon quizzed, he’d never met them and he’d never really pressed to do that, he was in love with you and that was all he needed in his life. “They do…” You replied evenly. “They don’t approve... It isn’t because of you.” You quickly add with wide eyes. “They don’t approve of anyone outside of the family. They hated any girl that Peter brought home and they tolerate Barney, but that is only because they gave them a grandchild to fawn over.” You explained before frowning. “Si, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to come…”

For a moment he mauled over his options, he could go and accept whatever snide comments and berating came from your family, or he could send you to the wolves and stay home like a coward. Simon Riley was not a coward. “Tell her we’ll be there.” He leaned over to clink his glass against her own.

It was a bit of a drive to Anna’s home she shared with her husband and their son, but that gave you plenty of time to fill in all the dirty details about your family. You had started with your older sister, she was seen as the golden child and your parents bragged about almost everything that she did, her perfect marriage, her perfect children, her perfect house and her perfect holiday home. You explained, Anna had gone to a top University to study finance, but during her gap year galivanting about the US she’d met Barney who’d promptly fallen in love with her and got her pregnant. This wouldn’t typically be too big of a problem, apart from the fact that Anna been engaged before setting off and in a desperate need to escape the monotony of her relationship and her perfect life she’d thrown it all away from another lad.

It was a blow to her parents that their perfect eldest daughter had this mishap, however the fact that Barney came from an incredibly wealthy family and owned his own tech company certainly helped ease him into the family. Then their grandson Hunter came into the picture and everything was a perfect ending from there.

On the other hand, there was your younger brother Peter who had barely scraped by in his school and your parents had to persuade Universities to accept him. He spent more times in clubs than in his classes. Your parents saw him as a typical boy, causing some trouble and chasing the ladies. Boys will be boys; they’d excused with a hearty laugh as Peter would be trotted to the cells for indecent exposer or public indecency. Still even after all the trouble he’d caused Peter was still the apple of their eyes, your mother fawned over him and your father tried moulding him into his protégé.

Then there was you. With a sister that was perfect and a brother that they dotted on that left very little time or energy for you. It seemed like you just slipped through the cracks. Even when they did have time spare for you every decision, you’d made they hadn’t approved. In their eyes, you were simply the wild little fuck-up. It pained and riled Simon that anyone thought of you as anything but perfect and good and kind.

Once they arrived at your sisters’ home Simon was surprised to find that it was an expensive looking townhouse that had been renovated to have some modern features. This strangle matched the dreamhouse that you’d muttered to him one night in your post-sex chatter, it made Simon wonder who had desired the house first, maybe it was you and Anna had simply stolen that dream to taunt you. Approached the modern frosted glass door, it opened and out stepped an older woman with a disguised smile on her face, dressed in a smart, conservative dress with sharp kitten heels. Your hand squeezed his own as you approached, announcing nicely. “Mum…” Ah, your mother, Cynthia…

“Hello darling.” Her voice was soft but hiding something, like a sickly sweet venom that was encasing you both. You had mentioned that she was high strung and highly critical, that remained to be seen. If there was one thing that Cynthia enjoyed in life it was gossiping, followed by bragging about her family, or at least some of her family members, certainly not you, you’d joked to Simon but there was a pained reality to that snide remark. “Look at you, that is certainly an interesting dress…” She observed, cupping your face then. “You look very tired, are you sleeping well?” The snide remarks had already begun, Simon observed.

You complained lowly. “Mum…” Then looked towards Simon, eyes pleading for some form of help or safety or escape but only found his own dark set that matched your own fear. “This is-” Cynthia cut you off and turned her viper grin towards at him, those dangerous eyes scanned him and searched for any little weakness or vulnerability. “This must be Simon.” Cynthia let out an almost cynical laugh. “Now, I must ask your sister to set another place, we weren’t sure that you were real…” It was another little dig that made you wince.

Cynthia then allowed the two of you to follow her further into the house, a lounge area stood before them and three men lingered inside of it. An older man sat on the sofa, drink in hand and head drooping, another around Simon’s age stood behind a small make-shift bar, cleaning glasses and straightening bottles of the labels faced out and proud and then across the room a younger man was texting on his phone. “Simon, make yourself comfortable with the men. That is my husband, Harold. This is my son-in-law, Barney.” Cynthia even gifted him a snide smile, the same she had done to Simon, they were outsiders after all, not as important as blood, simply there to give her grandchildren. “And that is my son Peter~”

Turning to you and lowering her voice, Cynthia said. “Darling, don’t worry that you didn’t bring a present, your sister understands that you don’t make a lot of money-” “N-no, I just left it at home.” You attempted to explain but your mother just chortled lowly and squeezed your shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure… just like how Peter ate all your Christmas chocolate when you were 10, hmm?” Then she poked your tummy in jest. “But I think we all know where it went.”

Simon forced himself to grit his teeth, looking between and watching you purse your lips, accepting the vicious attack with a tight smile and glossy eyes. “Now, don’t make that face~” Cynthia smirked directly at you, as if knowing she was pushing your buttons. “Come, your sister will want some help in the kitchen, I’m sure you’ll survive being apart from your boyfriend for five minutes, hmm?” Then looking towards Simon and asking. “You won’t mind if I borrow her, will you?”

More than anything he wanted to deny her, snatch you up into his side and away from anymore of her cruel remarks, but her claw-like hands were already circling you and tugging you from the room before he had a chance. The next moment, a presence walked up behind him and Simon turned to see a very happy looking man stood there. “Hey man…” A thick American accent rolled from him. “My name is Barney, you must be Simon, right?” He was quick to shake his hand and comment. “Quite the grip there, you play golf?”

Shaking his head Simon followed him back to where he’d been lingering (or probably hiding) behind his bar. “Do you drink, man? What’s your poison?” Barney asked enthusiastically, very proudly gesturing to the array of bottles that were placed behind the bar, squeaky clean but hardly used. “Whiskey. Neat.” Then leaning against the bar and waiting for it to be made. Another approached, this time your brother, tucking his phone away into his pocket as he sidled up beside him, elbows resting on the bar too, matching him stance for stance. “Simon, right? The latest addition to our fucked up little family.” Peter commented, his tone just as snide as his mother’s – the apple didn’t fall far, he supposed. “I’m sure my sister told you all about me…”

“She mentioned a few things…” Simon answered evenly, reaching out to take the offered drink from Barney, drinking it down a little too quickly to appear casual. Bloody hell, he’d been on battlefields and felt less anxious. “Well, I’ve got a few stories about my sister that I’m sure you’ll want to hear too~” The young lad began before Simon glanced in his direction, testing and bothered by his presence.

Sensing the impending tension Barney let out a hearty chuckle and said. “Maybe another time, huh?” Then giving Peter a pointed look. “Simon… what do you do for a job?” He asked in a friendly enough way, this seemed to catch the attention of Harold who actually glanced in his direction, quietly accessing and judging, it felt like you were the only normal one to actually come out of this family. “I’m in the special forces.” Simon explained, keeping his answers short and sweet, not allowing too many details to slip out, it wouldn’t be professional. They all had different reactions to this little piece of information. Peter quirked a brow whilst Barney grinned and nodded. “That’s tight. Respect, man.”

“A solider…” Peter muttered. “Lieutenant, actually.” Simon corrected in a sharp tone. There wasn’t many things in life he was proud about but you and his career were among the only few.

Again, your brother seemed to stir from beside him. “So…” Looking at him, wanting to judge Simon’s reaction. “How many people you killed?” The question was so crass that it actually made Barney gasp before letting out a nervous laugh and saying. “Pete, I’m not sure you can ask questions like that, man…” Then another laugh before giving his brother-in-law a soft punch on the shoulder, followed by a pointed look, don’t push.

There was this clear power struggle that Peter was trying to win. This happened often with rich boys like your brother, they saw Simon as a threat because he was physically much more impending than them, feeling even worse when they discovered that Simon wasn’t as dumb as they thought he looked.

“Not something that I keep count of…” Simon answered keeping his face straight, remaining unbothered. It was a good answer, it was formal and dignified, not to mention filled with some honesty. It wasn’t like Simon could even keep count anymore, even if he had wanted to. Peter seemed unimpressed with that answer and simply huffed before saying. “Bet you could think of at least five different ways to kill me in here, right?” Again, this spiked the interest of Harold, glancing in their direction.

Another challenge. Another prod. Another opportunity to attempt to make Simon look unhinged. Attempting to break the tension Barney laughed awkwardly. “This joker-” “I could think at least ten.” Simon retorted, dark eyes watching Peter to see that smugness falter for just a moment as true fear sank in. From across the room for just a split second Harold smirked then it washed away as he finished his fifth drink of the night.

The room was thick with an air of tension as you stepped inside looking completely flustered. “It’s uh… it’s time for dinner.” You informed them, frowning as you tried to access the atmosphere, approaching Simon to rest a delicate hand on his forearm, wrapping yourself around the limb. The room cleared out as Barney escorted his in-laws to his dinning room. Gazing up at Simon, you asked. “You alright?”

Simon’s eyes seemed to focus on where Peter had been escorted from the room, watching that area on alert for a few moments before his gaze flittered back in your direction. “Told your brother I could think of ten ways to kill him in this room alone…”

You blinked. Slow and calculating. Attempting to understand the words that Simon had just rushed in your direction. “Excuse me?” You muttered, staring up into his eyes in confusion. “Why… why would you say-” “He was pushing me.” There was an edge of frustration to his tone. You brother had gotten under Simon’s skin a lot more than he was willing to admit aloud. Reaching up you cupped his face and looked into his eyes with such care and sincerity, it really did pain you to witness your family treating him in a way that left him so anxious and wound up. “I believe you.” You whispered. “I believe you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My fucking family… It’s my family, they make it their mission to push and prod and make your life misery. I’m sorry-”

A short huff came from Simon, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently and replying. “You don’t ever apologies for any of them.” He told you, voice firm and sure. There was no part of this that was your fault. You were born into a family of cynical fakers, wanting to make everyone else’s lives as miserable as their own. He hadn’t even been around them for an hour yet, but Simon could see that you were the only good thing to come from your family. He could force himself to survive the rest of the dinner party for you… but when this was over, he never wanted to see these people again.

“Come on, now…” Your mothers voice entered the lounge and she lingered in the doorway, big fake smile on her lips and glass of wine in hand. “You were late to the party and now you’ll be late for dinner too…” Cynthia chortled, clearly still holding that grudge. “I swear, my darling girl would be late to her own funeral too…” The comment was made as she swayed down the hallway towards the dining room, Simon simply grit his teeth and continued to bite his tongue. A few more hours, he reminded himself constantly.

The dinner that was severed was nice enough. Honestly, the only cooking that you actually enjoyed nowadays was anything that Simon served up for you and it was something he was more than happy to take care of for you. It was mundane and simple and peaceful, just for some time he could force his noisy brain to shut off, it simply wasn’t warfare.

You sat beside him, food pushing around your plate, probably each little biting comment from your mother stripped away any hunger from you. Cynthia had persuaded your siblings to list all their recent achievements to you, which they seemed all too happy to do. Maybe they knew that if all that vitriol that poured from your mother was aimed at you, then they’d continue to escape it… or maybe they enjoyed it because they were just as cruel as she was.

“Are you enjoying the food?” Cynthia quirked a soft brow at Simon, it was a strange observation but Simon noted that your mother wore a face so similar to your own, maybe more than the rest of your siblings but not even one of your expressions matched. There was so much pure and true joy and easiness in your smile, but each time your mother did the same it seemed like it might crack her face into tiny pieces. “I’m sure you aren’t used to a good homecooked meal, hmm?” Then laughing lowly. “Especially with this one’s cooking…” Pointing a fork in your direction.

“It’s fine.” Simon responded evenly, clearly not to exaggerated praise that your mother had been expecting, simply narrowing her eyes and taking back another gulp of wine. “I like to cook for us…” His hand then rests on your knee beneath the table, reminding you that you weren’t alone facing your horrid family, but that Simon had your back. “Between the two of us, I have more time to cook, anyway.” Then he shrugged, gazing in your direction and seeing your desperation to find safety and warmth within him. “With all the hours that she works and then the time she spends on her art, I like to keep her fed…” Too afraid to continue aloud, Simon thought, keep her warm, provided for her, keep her happy, keep her satisfied. Just… keep her.

A deep scoff came from Cynthia then, another big glug of wine until her glass was empty. It seemed that Simon had given Peter the opportunity to speak then, smirking from across the table. “Speaking of work…” Those dangerous eyes loomed as you sat a little straighter in your chair. “Heard from a friend that you missed that interview dad set up…” The comment was thrown out there so casually but you were left reeling as you knew the chaos that simple comment would cause. Besides, how did he even know that? There wasn’t a chance in the world that Peter had friends to be able to tell him that information, so what? Was he following you? Keeping tabs on you? Before you even had the chance to interrogate him Cynthia spoke first.

“No, no…” Placing down the wine bottle onto the table with a heavy thud, eyes fixed on you. “Please tell me that isn’t true.” Raising her brows, as if waiting for you to deny Peter’s allegations but you remained sheepishly quiet. “You lied to me.” There was a fiery rage in her eyes now and you knew that you were in for it. “You told me that you went. I can’t believe you would lie to your own mother…” Your mouth opened then, as if to defend yourself but Cynthia was much too quick to continue her tirade. “We have spoken about this again and again… I made it clear it is time to give up on this silly little fantasy that you’ve been holding onto. It is time to grow up and join the real world. You need to be more like your brother and your sister…” Gesturing wildly to them as Anna sat almost ashamed with her gaze down to her lap and Peter sat there with a smarmy smile the instigator of this.

Again, you opened your mouth, but her hand came up sharp in your direction. “Do you know the strings your father had to pull to organise that interview?” Then gesturing towards Harold who seemed completely unphased, cutting his steak into another bitesize piece whilst his wife continued to berate their daughter before the audience. “You are such an ungrateful brat and you always have been. When will you understand? You have absolutely zero desirable qualities so finding a decent job will be very difficult for you… who in their right mind is going to want to hire someone like you, hmm?”

Everyone apart from Cynthia and Peter appeared mortified, Anna looked to you with horror on her face and then Barney spoke, careful smile on his face. “She still had plenty of time to figure out what she wants to do, right? Anna took a gap year during college… Pete did the same… So, she isn’t going abroad or whatever, instead she’s trying to… to… figure out if she can follow her passion, I think it’s-” “Be quiet.” Cynthia growled at him then, teeth grit. “Don’t talk such nonsense… Peter and Anna were working hard at college and needed a break to find themselves and after returned to college and get their degrees. What does she have? Nothing. I couldn’t even convince her to apply to any colleges… She is a lazy, stubborn, silly little girl and you are chasing a hopeless dream-” “Enough.”

Every set of eyes then turned to look at Simon who sat with a furious look present on his face. At the beginning of the evening, he could maybe accept those biting little comments, he could certainly accept the way that Peter had provoked him, Simon could even accept the way that your mother had sat there bragging about your siblings but he wasn’t going to allow her to utterly humiliate you like this. “You don’t fuckin’ talk to her that way.” Carefully from beside him, you muttered his name, a soft plead to try and calm the fight that seemed inevitable now. “No.” He told you firmly, quietly, gazing down at you with a set jaw and narrowed eyes. “I won’t just sit there and let her fuckin’ talk to you like this… I wont… I can’t…”

It wasn’t like Simon had grown up in a good household. It was clearly different from your own. Simon had witnessed his father completely decimate any good in his family and he was too young and too small and too scared to stop him or do anything. This is why he is the man he is today; he wouldn’t allow that again and seeing your family ripping you to shreds, tearing apart any good and hope and light inside of you was too much for him. Not you. Never you.

“Simon, please. You simply don’t understand...” Cynthia began. “My daughter lives in this word of make believe where she thinks she is going to become and artists and be able to make money and buy big houses like her sister. It’s just ridiculous. I’ve tried getting through to her, but-” “Your daughter is a fuckin’ adult.” Simon growled then, leaning into the table slightly so he could talk across at her. “She doesn’t need you to find her a job and she doesn’t need you to approve the choices that she makes in her life.” Simon growled, feeling this need to protect you and keep you safe, that very same one that had grown for his mother in his childhood. Different, but… the same. “Your daughter… your daughter is fuckin’ amazing. There isn’t a thing about her that needs to change. She’s intelligent and she’s soft and kind and she’s really fuckin’ talented and I wonder how all of that managed to happen when she grew up around you cunts-” The entire table seemed to gasp in unison.

There seemed to be this stunned silence before everyone erupted, Peter almost fell off his chair laughing, whilst baby Hunter wailed from the commotion. Cynthia stood stark upright, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Unacceptable! Disgusting! Unacceptable! He’s an animal! He’s feral!” Stalk through the house on a tirade of insults aimed in his direction with her husband trailing behind her. Anna was trying to hopelessly clean a puddle of wine from where it had teetered over onto the table. “It’s fucking vintage!” There were real tears in her eyes, much to Simon’s surprise.

Just then Barney stood up, bouncing his son in his arms and looking between you and Simon. “I think… I think it would be best if you guys left.” There was sorrow in his eyes as he suggested it, not wanting to be unkind but just not wanting anymore drama. It was probably for the best even if Simon did have a few more choice words for them.

The entire car ride home you were unusually quiet beside him. He was actually a little lost on how to handle this situation. There weren’t a part of him that was sorry for what he’d said to your family, or more specifically your mother. Simon just couldn’t handle the fact that she could talk to you in such a vile way. There was only so much that Simon was willing to take and he’d lost it. Fuck, had he scared you? Were you mad at him? Were you sad for causing a rift in your family? Had he even caused a rift? Clearly, they hadn’t thought very much of you before he’d been there…

A small sniffle from beside him caught his attention, glancing in your direction and under the glow of the streetlamps Simon saw your face wet with tears. Without hesitation Simon signalled and pulled his truck onto an empty road, clambering from the driver’s seat and around to yank open your door. A moment later his arms were around you, hand supporting the back of your head burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. “You’re alright. Shh. You’re alright, babe.”

After a few moments of allowing, you to just sob into his shoulder, your voice muffled against his shirt. “Don’t ca-care what they s-say about me-” “Well, I do.” There was a thick edge to his voice, pulling back to cup your face and looking for any sign of fight towards your family but you seemed defeated, you seemed emotionally drained. Where was that witty girl that had corned him on a night out? Where was the one that had to almost twist his arm to open up? Where was that fight for her own pretty self? “I care about what they say about you because they are dead fuckin’ wrong, babe. No one deserved to be talked to like that. I won’t allow it.”

There was something deeper simmering here behind all this. There was something that Simon didn’t want to confess or discuss. The berating. The belittling. The treatment of less than… This was something that Simon wouldn’t allow for you because he had experienced it and much worse. “You don’t deserve it.” It was like Simon was talking to all the people in his life that hadn’t deserved the fate they were given. You. Him. His mum. His brother. His friends he’d lost. The soldiers that had died in his arms. “Okay?” “Okay.”

Masterlist | Ask | 04-02-2024

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jasmines-library · 4 months

Note

Would it be too much to request a batsis oneshot, about her knowing how to cook😆 like whenever Alfred is not available he leaves her in charge to help ensure the other family members are eating without buring down the house🤭 also a lil thing u could add is she often visits the manor just to cook cuz Alfred always keeps the kitchen fully stocked with ingredients which means she can cook pretty much anything she desires💜 I just thought it'd be cute to have Bruce be envious of his daughters cooking skills whereas he lacks them🤭

Kitchen Antics

Thanks for requesting! This was cute to write!

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“I still don’t think this is very fair.” Bruce pouted as you slid the plate in front of him.

“Hm?”

“This.” He gestured to the plate that you had served to him, piled to the brim. It had taken you hours to prepare, especially without Alfred’s help, but it was well worth it. “How come Alfred lets you cook and not me. I’m a fully grown adult. I should be allowed to cook a meal for my family.”

“Maybe it’s because you can’t actually cook.” You threw over your shoulder with a smug grin.

That earnt a snort from Damian which he hid poorly behind a hand. Bruce shot him an unamused look.

“Can too.” Bruce said. This time you raised a brow as you slid into your seat.

“Oh yeah, because the last time you cooked it turned out great.” Jason rolled his eyes.

You remember it distinctly. It was one of the first times Alfred was away and had reluctantly let Bruce use the kitchen. He had regretted it the moment he returned because his kitchen was hardly recognisable. And the food Bruce had cooked was less so. If you could even count it as food. It was the furthest thing from edible. Somehow undercooked and burnt to a crisp around the edges at the same time. Even Alfred wasn’t sure how he managed to do that, and he had seen almost everything when baking with the rest of your brothers. It was safe to say that Bruce was no longer allowed in the kitchen after that. So, the responsibility turned to you.

Alfred had always said you had a natural talent for cooking, though you swore it was because you had the best teacher: You had spent countless hours helping him when you were younger and you were the only person he didn’t seem to physically wince at when you walked into the kitchen. So, naturally when he announced he was leaving this week he entrusted you to make sure the family were fed without the entire manor being burnt down, or being filled with takeout boxes.

Your brothers had tried countless times to worm their way into the kitchen, but you ushered them out every time. They were just as bad as Bruce when it came to cooking. There was one time Damian and Dick had tried to bake a cake to surprise Bruce on his birthday. And it did…when the fire they had started nearly set the whole kitchen alight. Luckily Alfred had smelt it before any real damage could happen, but the pair of adults were far from happy. Jason had never shown much interest in cooking. He would usually just grab himself a snack from one of the cupboards instead of actually cooking himself something, so he had never really been an issue to keep out. Though, often he would try to sabotage your work just to wind you up. As for Tim, he was the best out of the four boys. By no means a master at work, it was often slightly bland but he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill everyone with his cooking so he got bonus points for that.

“That was one time.” Bruce turned his head away, pouting like a small child.

“Tt. Father, I think you’ve tried to poison us every time you’ve gone near the kitchen.” Damian jested through a mouthful of food. “Perhaps you should ask Joker to try it. Might take a villain off of our hands.”

Tim stifled a laugh. “This is lovely, Y/N. Thank you.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

The six of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, before Bruce finally spoke up again. Cutting through the sound of cutlery scraping against china plates.

“Is my cooking really that bad?”

He was answered with silence. And a lot of smirks.

“...Are you jealous of Y/N, Father?” Dick grinned.

“Psh…No.”

Bruce was a terrible liar.

“Do you need any assistance, Miss Y/N?” Alfred poked his head around the kitchen door. He had returned from his trip not too long ago, glad to see that everyone had been well fed and that the house was still in one piece.

Glancing up from the bowl of ingredients you were whisking, you met Alfred’s proud glance. “No thank you, Alfred. You already have everything I need.”

Alfred smiled up at you. It was nice for you to stop by once in a while to see them. He enjoyed seeing you cook. Better yet he enjoyed tasting your new creations each week so he kept everything stocked, even if he knew he wouldn’t need it himself. The shelves were lined with all sorts of spices, flours, sugars and ingredients for you to create something new so that if you ever decided to stop by (which you liked to do at least once a week) he would have everything you could ever need.

Your brothers loved it when you would bring over food to them too. Most of it would be gone in minutes and they would turn to you asking for more. Bruce would do the same too, although he would still have that look of teasing jealousy on his face. But he was proud really. And glad that at least one of his children had enough common sense to not set the entire manor alight when baking a cake.

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

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natsarrownecklacx · 4 months

Text

Just One Chance

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count- 2,191

Summary- You desperately want Natasha to sit on your face, she’s definitely not apposed to the idea, but she does have her concerns.

Warnings- Smut, 18+ only Minors this is not a fic for you. Chubby, subby Nat (she’s so adorable pls I love her) face sitting, slight degradation kink, slight mommy kink, teasing, hand riding (?) talks on weight insecurities (Nat)

Based on this

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

“Baby, please.” You plead with your girlfriend, not for the first time, for her to give into your desperation. “You won’t hurt me, I promise.”

Natsaha looks at you with eyes full of guilt and uncertainty. She knows you want her to do this, knows how desperately you crave her this way and honestly if you were asking for anything else she would have given it to you within a moment's notice, but this, she just can't.

She has a deep seeded fear that the chub around her thighs, tummy and waist will hurt you the second she puts her weight down on you.

She’s always declined your offer, your need, to pleasure her that way, despite your assurances that she wouldn’t hurt you, that you’d only ever feel blessed to be between her legs.

She’d be lying if she said she’d never thought about it. That she’d never cum with her fingers buried deep inside her with the thought of you underneath her, mouth on her cunt bringing her to the very edge of bliss before pulling her over and helping her fall.

“Nat.” You say seriously. “If you are genuinely uncomfortable with this I will drop it, but if the only thing holding you back is your fear of hurting me then I need you to hear me when I say you won’t, love. I’ll even have a safeword and action for if I need a break.”

You see it the moment Natasha’s shoulders slump, her body relaxing at the idea of you having a safe word, a way for her to ensure your comfort and safety.

You take the opportunity to close the distance between you, the slight chill in your shared bedroom dissipating the second her body is against yours, even with the both of you fully clothed.

You take her in your arms, pulling her toward you to place a kiss on her cheek. “Besides.” You add, teasingly, a smirk on your lips. “I’m not sure if I've ever mentioned this but my preferred way to go out is between your thighs, love.”

Natasha laughs, lightly swatting your shoulder, a teasing tone to her own voice as she answers. “You might’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

In your defense, it would be your preferred way to go, if it came down to it, you’d want to leave this life with her. Where else would you get a view like that?

Natasha takes a second to think it over, a steady heat pooling between her legs at the thought, ultimately leading her to the decision not to deprive either of you of this any longer.

“Okay.” Natasha says, so quietly you think you might have imagined it.

“Okay?” You ask, your voice filled with poorly covered hope.

“Yes.” Natasha says more confidently this time. “I’ll sit on your face.” She blushes as she says it, the crude words feeling heavy on her tongue.

You don’t even try to hide your excitement as you smile at her, sliding your hands down her body, stopping at her thighs to pick her up and throw her onto the bed.

“Strip, love.”

Your eyes darken as you stand at the foot of the bed, watching her remove her clothes one by one until she’s left in only her panties in front of you. “Leave those on.”

Natasha groans, knowing she’s about to be teased. “But-” She tries to protest, only for you to cut her off by crawling on top of her, caging her against the bed with your body. “But nothing, love. What I say goes and you know that. Don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She replies, letting her eyes drift to where your pointer finger is tracing over the skin of her stomach.

You draw a path over the skin of her abdomen, up through the valley of her breasts, across her collarbones and over her throat and jawline. You take her jaw in your grasp, making her move her gaze back to your face. Her pupils are dilated, submission and lust clear in her gaze.

You lean down to cover her lips with your own, simultaneously moving your finger back down between her breasts, down over her stomach and over her thighs.

You roughly palm the inside her thighs, causing a gasp to leave her lips and allowing you to slip your tongue into her mouth. The noise she releases is heavenly, somewhere between a needy whine and a moan and you have to keep your hips from bucking against her.

You bring your hand down to grope at her thighs, feeling the desperation roll off of her in waves, her hips rising off the bed in search of more.

Natasha pulls away, her head falling against the pillow below her with a dull thud. “Please.” She says, breathlessly.

“Please what?” You ask, feigning confusion.

Natasha only huffs at your act, her hips raising again trying to catch your attention. “Please, touch me.” She says, this time making sure to look you in the eye, knowing your weakness for her dark green orbs.

“I am touching you, love.” You tease further, groping the flesh of her inner thigh to prove your point.

“No.” She says confidently, making you raise a brow as takes your wrist in her hold, guiding your hand from her thigh to her heat. “I need you here. Please, y/n.”

Without saying anything, you press against the wet spot on her panties, delighting in the noise it draws from her. Her hips lift on instinct, pushing herself against your hand, head falling back at the pressure she’s rewarded with.

“Oh g-god.” She stutters out, rutting her hips against the flat of your hand, held firmly against her with her hand wrapped around your wrist.

You smirk down at her, a borderline predatory look in your eyes. “You gettin close, love?” You ask, feeling her pick up the pace of her hips, cute little moans falling from her lips as she nods.

“Yeah?” You tease, only to receive another nod in response. You bring your free hand up to wrap around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her head swim. “How about now?” You taunt, receiving only a whine and a breathy “f-fuck” in answer.

“Gonna come.” She says in warning and you can’t help but smile as you watch her tilt her head back, her back arching off the bed as she moans and a gush of arousal soaks her panties.

“Aww, honey.” You coo, fighting against a smirk when you see a bright red blush cover her cheeks, her head turning to the side, avoiding you’re gaze.

Keeping your hand on your throat loosely you lean in to whisper against her ear. “You came so hard your shaking and I didn’t even properly touch you.”

Natasha whines, moving forward to tuck her head into your neck. “None of that, sweetheart.” You say, moving away from her to capture her lips with yours.

She closes her eyes, enjoying the feel of you against her. You pull away and she tries to follow your lips, a chuckle leaving yours as you lean back, giving her some room to breathe.

It takes Natasha a minute to gather herself, her eyes drifting to your smile as soon as she’s calmed enough to meet your dark gaze.

You shift off of her, lying on the bed beside her and tapping her thigh.

“Come on, honey.” You say, moving your eyes slowly up her body until you meet her blown out pupils. “Sit your pretty self on my face and I’ll make you cum again.”

Natasha whimpers and clenches her thighs shut, the action drawing your attention, a smirk falling onto your face.

She moves to straddle your stomach, her hands flat against your chest as she stares down at you. The sight of you beneath her, eager to please her reminds her of her often thought of fantasies. Her hips grind down on you unintentionally, drawing a quiet moan from her.

You laugh quietly and take her jaw into your hand, forcing her too look you in the eye. “That’s right honey, I want you to make yourself feel good just like that. I just need to taste you while you do it.”

Natasha nods dumbly, moving off of you to remove her panties. She then moves herself to straddle over your face, her eyes full of hesitation as she lowers herself down, refusing to put any weight on you.

You allow her this moment of hesitation, looking to her for permission as you wrap your arms around her thighs, lifting your head between her legs.

You wait for her nod of approval, a timid smile on her lips as she does so, before you let your tongue come in contact with her cunt. You lick a strip up her and watch in fascination as her mouth drops open at the pleasure it causes her.

You move your tongue to her clit, circling the bundle of nerves and Natasha’s hands fly to the headboard to hold herself up as her thighs begin to tremble.

“Oh god.” She moans, fighting against herself to keep from grinding on your tongue. “Y/n.” She moans.

Natasha’s head tips back, whines and moans spilling from her lips. You look up at her, noticing the muscles in her arms tense, her thighs shaking on either side of your head and you know she’s holding back.

You use your hold on her to pull her down onto you fully. She looks down at you, alarm on her face for all of five seconds before you flatten your tongue under her clit and pull her forward on your tongue.

She moans loudly, hints of desperation laced in the pretty sound. Her hands to rest just above your head, her hips grinding against you with fever, drawing every ounce of pleasure she can from you.

You let her use your mouth to get herself off, her desperate movements, moans and cries of your name turn you on more than you can bear. Your thighs squeeze together, trying to release the building pressure.

“Oh god.” She cries out, her head falling forward. “Feels so good.” She moans, her hips stuttering against her tongue. The sound and the taste of her make you moan into her, causing her to cry out again.

You move your tongue away from her clit, her whine of protest bringing a smirk to your lips.

Natasha sits up, her back straight, her hands wresting on her thighs. She stares down at you through hooded eyes, her pupils blown out and a pout on her face. “Y/n.” She mumbles, as if she simply doesn’t have the energy to do any more.

“Yes baby.” You answer, giving short, gentle licks against her opening. “Nughhh. Oh god, y/n please.” She begs, trying to grind down onto your tongue.

You look up at her with mischievous eyes, her eyes widening as she sees them. “What are you- fuck!” She cries out, feeling your tongue slide inside of her.

You thrust your tongue in and out of her, using your grip on her thigh to pull her more onto your mouth.

Her walls flutter around you as she weaves her fingers into your hair, tugging lightly on the strands.

You brush your nose against her clit as you thrust inside her, causing her head to fly back and a loud cry of “mommy” to fall from her lips. Her thighs shake and threaten to close as she comes apart on your face, the orgasm hitting her harder than ever before.

You continue to thrust into her, drawing out her pleasure as she rides out her high on your tongue.

You only pull away from her when she whines from overstimulation, her hand pushing you away from her as her whole body slumps forward.

She takes all of five seconds to catch her breath before she registers her position, the amount of her weight she let you bare.

In a state of panic she lifts herself from your mouth. A panicked jumble of apologies and words of concern leave her lips so fast you can barely understand what she’s saying.

You simply lift your hand to cover her mouth, her eyes immediately snapping to yours, the panic all but evaporating from them when she sees the adoration and bliss in yours.

She gasps when she meets your eyes, the sight of you covered in her so contently causing the heat in her stomach to reignite

You kiss the inside of each of her thighs, relishing in the shaky breath she releases as you do so, a mumbled “you're so beautiful” falling from your lips and you watch as a blush covers her cheeks and she looks away shyly.

“So.” You tease, causing Natasha to look back at you. “Mommy, huh?”

Natasha’s eyes widen again, suddenly remembering what she’d said in her state of pure arousal.

You feel it against her hand when she goes to apologize, but you keep her mouth firmly shut, pushing your hand against her.

“Shh, baby. Just let mommy taste you again.”

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

A/n - I’m not entirely happy with this one but the wip list is so long I just wanted it done and honestly if I don’t post it rn there’s a 50/50 on it never being posted. Hope ye like it anyways

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #sub natasha romanoff x reader #sub natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader smut #chubby Natasha Romanoff #she’s so adorable

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shibaraki · 10 months

Text

KISS IT BETTER ┊ SHINSOU HITOSHI

tags: GN reader, pro hero shinsou, support engineer reader, brief descriptions of blood + injury, tending to wounds, mutual pining, fluff, idiots to lovers, love confessions

wc: 1.9k

“You know I’m not a doctor, Hitoshi,” your voice is a low murmur yet loud in the cramped space of your bathroom. Just you, his shallow breathing and the steady flow of water in the sink. “I wish you would actually go to a hospital, or someone with a healing quirk”.

Hitoshi shrugs in the reflection and immediately appears to regret it as his face twists in discomfort, the movement jostling his wound. The bullet grazed a vivid arc right across the back of his left shoulder; thankfully not deep enough to require stitches or to damage the layers of skin beneath, but given the awkward to reach area and the blood that had been streaming through his fingers upon arrival you can’t say you blame him for waking you.

“You do it better,” he rasps. The soft hair on the back of your neck stands on end as you sense his eyes on you in the mirror. “You’re gentle. And good with your hands”.

The gauze dabbed around his wound is saturated red, quickly darkening and taking on a brownish hue. Resolutely avoiding his gaze you toss it beside the molehill of stained swabs already on the counter, reaching for a clean one and running it under the cold water. “I’m good with your equipment,” you stress with a huff, willing the heat crawling up your neck to go away. Years of working with delicate machinery keeps your hands steady. “I fix gadgets, Hitoshi. Not people”.

Hitoshi hums. Rather than contemplative he sounds faintly amused at your strong denial, as though he knows something you don’t. “You fix me just fine,” comes his soft reply as you successfully staunch the bleeding. Following the steps that have become routine for you both, he passes back the usual tub from your med kit—used so often now that the label has worn off—and adds nothing further while you cover the wound with a thin layer of petroleum jelly.

“Bandage,” you say, proffering your hand once more. Hitoshi twists his good arm to give you the non-stick dressings. You mumble an apology at the quiet hiss drawn between gritted teeth as you smooth the covered edges around the wound. “And… there. You’re set. That’s as good as you’ll get from me”.

Hitoshi turns in place before you’ve the chance to step away. You find yourself closer than intended. The white luminescence drapes over his shoulders and glints off the silver studs in each earlobe. You don’t know where to look. His ribs expand as he takes a staggered breath and your chests meet; a brief touch of bare skin but enough to make the sound of your heart flood your ears.

You catch how his throat bobs and entertain the thought that he might be equally affected. “Thanks,” he says. The gentle timbre of his voice settles over you like a cold fog of longing.

Neither of you have moved. You do not address the proximity as you study his upper body. There’s old bruising on his hip that looks a bit like an abstract painting but nothing else of immediate concern. He’s lean and angular, tall enough to cast an impressive shadow; neither of you are children anymore.

“You don’t have any other injuries hidden, do you?” you ask, eyes trailing up the column of his throat and lingering on the healed scar tissue cutting through the right of his mouth. It begins beneath his nose, strikes through the dark scruff along his jaw and ends far beneath his jugular, a paint stroke left by a brush with death. The memory is fresh in your mind and guides your hands to cup his chin, thumb tracing the raised skin. You don’t recall ever being that afraid for anyone, and yet he returned to work the day after as though nothing had happened.

At the very least it gives you ample reason to stare at his mouth. You can feel his gaze on you, peering down through half lidded eyes. There’s warm intensity behind them, like he can see through your poorly strung excuse, but if that is the case then he’s allowing it to happen, and you think that reveals just as much.

“It healed perfectly. You don’t need to worry about it,” he murmurs. There’s almost a breathless quality to it that invites goosebumps. And you freeze, as if caught.

“Not worried,” his lips press thin at the sudden cold tone as you turn to gather the used gauze and throw it in the bin beside the sink. “Your funeral not mine”.

Hitoshi moves when you nudge him aside, blood staining the dispenser as you squeeze some soap into your hands and scrub yourself raw under the running tap. The murky red water gurgles down the drain, rivulets streaking higher up the basin and likely to stain. You’re so lost in the sight that you barely register the larger hand coming to cover your own.

“Stop. Let me,” he says, already prying your entwined fists apart to gently massage the soap along each finger. Body heat seeps through your sleep shirt as he loosely wraps around you. You lean into him a fraction and imagine he’s embracing you like a lover while he cleans the dried blood from beneath your nails.

Silence befalls the small space once the water cuts out. Rather than dry your hands Hitoshi keeps them there, encased in his, his thumbs stroking back and forth over your knuckles. He rests his forehead on the curve of your throat and something shifts. The atmosphere, the ephemeral thing between you that you called friendship, the hips that press closer until he’s shaped perfectly to your back.

“I’m sorry,” you hear him say.

Wild violet hair tickles your cheek. It’s shorter than last time. You stare at your conjoined reflection as you overturn your wrists, threading your wet fingers together until your palms kiss. “For what?” you prompt, watching his head lift while you speak. “For constantly breaking your support equipment? For bursting into my apartment after midnight and bleeding all over my carpet again? For scaring me and making me lose sleep? For this—” your eyes meet in the mirror and your mouth becomes dry. “For this less than professional relationship?”

At that the corner of Hitoshi’s mouth lifts in the suggestion of a smile, and suddenly exasperation and fondness is warring over your expression. He clears his throat, almost shy, and he tightens his grip on your fingers. “I guess I’m sorry for all of that, too. But that’s not what I meant”.

“What else is there?” you tilt your head. In a heart stopping move, he turns his nose into your temple.

“I’m sorry I can’t… shit. That I can’t be normal about this kind of thing,” he admits, jaw shifting as he fights the discomfort that so often accompanies being vulnerable. “I always feel like I need some dire excuse otherwise you’ll see right through me”.

“See through you—?” the clamouring in your mind comes to a standstill. Your tongue sits heavy behind your teeth. You spin in his arms, The sink counter digs into your lower back and your hands, mostly dried by the air, come to rest on his bare chest. A mottled blush spreads across his collarbones. “What, you bled on my carpet because you didn’t want me to know you liked me or something?”

Hitoshi grimaces. His eyes rose to the ceiling to avoid your scrutiny and he hesitates to hold your hips. “Sounds stupid when you put it like that,” he huffs.

“Because it is,” you remark, sliding your hands further up and around his ears. Cradling the back of his head you tip him forward and force him to look at you. “You could’ve just brought me coffee at work or something”.

“You’re missing the point,” he mutters, gaze dropping to your lips and away, staring at the space between your eyebrows. “I did it so you wouldn’t know”.

“Why not?”

“Because there’s no way that you’d…” he blinks. His words lose strength as your nose bumps his. You feel a shaky breath leave his lips.

“No way that I’d like you?” as you finish the sentence for him, unsure if he even hears you behind then far off look in his eyes. Emboldened, you pitch your voice lower, quiet enough to cover the short distance between your mouths. You stroke your thumb over the swell of his cheek and say, “You think I patch up every guy that rolls through my bedroom window?”

“Well. There better not be any other guys coming in through your windows,” he rasps, cautiously tipping forward. A playful furrow has etched into his brow. Hitoshi wets his lips, searching your expression for something—perhaps rejection or anything close to it. “I know you’re a good person. You’re good to me. I figured that’s all it was”.

“Right, I’m good to you,” you nod and hear his breathing hitch as your mouths brush. The blush across his chest has spread fingers up his throat to his cheeks, enough reach to stain his ears pink. Hitoshi sways forward. You collide. He kisses you, finally. It is every bit as solemnly sweet and respectful as the hands at your waist.

You can’t help but smile, and feel his smile in turn. There is something so boyish and coy about it; you would never expect it from a man of his status—a man that sees the worst of humanity and spends his nights both evading and preventing death.

“…Oh,” he breathes dumbly as you pull back, his focus caught on the swipe of your tongue.

“Oh,” you repeat to lightheartedly tease, pushing the heel of your hands to his cheeks together until his mouth juts into an ugly pout. Restlessness grips you seeing it paired with his dazed expression, already wanting more than he can give in his current condition.

You release his cheeks and rub them in apology. “You’re done for the night, yeah?”

“Yeah…?” fingers dig in at your soft waist, drawing you impossibly close, as though he were savouring the last of the moment. You smooth over his shoulders, down the curve of his biceps, along thick forearms to take his wrists.

“Good. You’re coming to bed with me,” you tell him. The stupefied look after tucking a kiss to the corner of his mouth will never get old, you’re sure of it. “We’re going to sleep. Tomorrow I’ll help you clean and redress your injury and then,” you press another kiss on his jaw, nuzzling the coarse stubble there, “then you can take me out for breakfast”.

You almost lose your footing. In one swift motion Hitoshi has swung the bathroom door open and begun corralling you through it toward the bedroom. There’s an echo of soft, near drunken laughter as you navigate the darkness, and you realise, belatedly, that it is coming from you.

The strong arms cinched around your middle unraveled to drop you on top of the covers. Reclining into the plush pillows at the head of your bed, you holdout your arms to welcome Hitoshi into honeyed repose. The mattress yields under his weight. Breath held, he crawls over to you—braces over you and sinks onto his forearms.

Seconds pass. Fingers dance across his back, avoiding his bandages. Your grin is concealed by the darkness but it’s clear in your voice. “Hitoshi,” you whisper. “You can breathe now”.

With an exaggerated exhale, Hitoshi sinks into the crook of your body and smooshes his face into the pillow beside your head. “I’ll try not to bleed on your bedsheets,” he says, muffled. Then quieter, when he’s sure you can’t hear it, “I like you”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader

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daniswoso · 4 months

Text

Don’t Ever Say I didn’t Love You. Of Course I do.

Alessia Russo x Reader.

Warnings: Honestly idk what this is, more of a blurb or whatever you call them, emptying out my drafts bbs get ready 🙏🏼, arguments, swearing, poorly written ending, probably poor grammar.

Summary: Less doesn’t think you love her anymore.

*********

You and Alessia were in another one of your arguments.

It was the 4th one this week, you didn't know why at this point, you just knew your girlfriend was mad at you for something you hadn't even done. You think it has something to do with her makeup and you using the last bit of it or something like that.

"Alessia what has gotten into you?" You asked, your face crumbling slightly as tears well in your eyes. You didn't want to fight with your girlfriend, you loved her dearly and held her close to your heart. So why was it so difficult to get along with her without her blowing up recently?

You knew she had been stressed because of her recent move to Arsenal, but she had never taken her anger about football out on you before, just as you had never taken yours about football out on her.

"You don't love me anymore!" She shouts and for a moment, everything goes still. The clock stops ticking, the only sound in the room heard was your individual breaths. Heavy and laboured, as if you'd just ran 10 miles non stop each. Although, that's what fighting with each other usually felt like anyway.

"What? Less what are you on about?"

"You.. You don't love me anymore." Her voice is quiet, fearful.

"You're fucking delusional if you think that then." You scoff, and she rolls her eyes.

"Why do I even try, Y/N?"

"What makes you think I don't love you, Less?"

"You aren't spending time with me as much anymore!" She complains, and her face holds resemblance to that of a pouting toddler, you think.

"Lessi are you forgetting I have a full time very high stress job? The same job as you, might I add?” You glare at her, honestly offended she'd ever think you didn't love her anymore.

"No, no of course not, I just-" You cut her off with a scoff and disbelieving chuckle.

"Just what? Woke up last week and decided to make me feel like shit over every little fucking thing?!" You snap. You had reached your boiling point. Why was she not seeing that you loved her? Why couldn't she just see that if she had spoke about it with you it wouldn't be this way?

"I love you, Alessia. So don't you ever say I didn't love you, I still do. I always will, for fucks sakes!" You yell, completely flying off the rails.

She just looks at you, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Whatever. I'm gonna stay at Macca's." The blonde says, storming out of your shared apartment and heading to the Irish girl's.

You think about chasing after her but hear her Mercedes pulling out of the driveway as you glare warily at your trainers. It would've been useless chasing her now.

You sigh and begin to tidy everything up, going getting into the spare bed, which you seemed to be spending a lot of time in lately, so that way if Alessia actually came back this time she'd be able to have space in a bed by herself.

****

Later that night, you briefly register a dip in the bed and your girlfriends warm body pressing against your own, muttering soft apologies into your hair which you just respond to with a grumble.

When you wake up that morning to the sight of the blonde's head on your chest and her smaller frame wrapped up in your arms, you feel a small flicker of hope that everything will be alright.

Because as long as you had your girl you felt like you could do anything.

**********

A/N: enjoy!

#woso #football #futbol #footy #woso fanfics #woso imagine #writer is not english #futból #woso x reader #angst #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x you #arguing #language #poorly written ending #emptying my drafts

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strawberries-and-summer-days · 18 days

Text

WE'RE... WHAT?? ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

summary:

warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!

a/n: part two of the series is out! im procrastinating the shit out of all my other requests so im not ignoring any of you btw!! lets all collectively ignore the fact that gracie like a post that has a lyric from her song (also damn im really just smashing out these fics)

"y/n has officially flitted off to boston!" clarisse announces suddenly from chris's lap.

"huh?" grover's head snaps up. "what do you mean?"

"y/n l/n, she's come to boston for her concerts," clarisse says showing her phone screen.

"you have got to be shitting me," chris says. "this is going to end terribly. seriously? here? boston? percy's gonna shit himself."

"oh really why would you think that?" clarisse drawls. "it's not like they don't like each other, they're like besties!"

"and y'know to make things worse y/n's setlist has been posted for months so we legit could've avoided her," chris sighs.

"yeah well, next time you see percy and he comes home grumbling about a business meeting in boston you deal with it then," grover argues.

"okay all of you shut it, percy's coming inside with luke so shhh," clarisse snaps.

"shh about what?" luke asks settling down on the couch next to grover.

"you'll never believe who's in boston!" grover sing songs. it doesn't take luke very long to work out who and his eyes widen in realisation

"no."

"yes."

"well shit."

"yep."

"we're in for a show."

☾. ⋅

percyjackson

liked by underovergrover, chris.rodriguez, lukecastellan, clarisse.la.rue, the.annabethchase and 1, 402, 385 others

percyjackson hello boston! one non-reschedulable meeting later and here we are...

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underovergrover i expect full compensation for making those pizzas WHICH YOU TOOK CREDIT FOR

percyjackson YOU DID NOT! I MADE HALF OF THOSE - MINE WERE BETTER

clarisse.la.rue no they weren't

percyjackson 🖕🏼

user1 ugh im in love

user2 omggg he's in boston!! so is y/n l/n!! are they following each other around?

user3 PLS I WOULD DIE MAKE THIS A THING

user4 i wonder if he's going to a concert here?? 😏

user5 does anyone else find it weird how his entire friend group follows him around?? no just me? they're just a huge freak show

user6 booooo we dont like haters here

user7 y/n l/n and percy neeeeed to happen rnnnn

user8 YES YES YES

lukecastellan im so ready to be done with this shit and go home

theannabethchase aww is someone feeling homesick?

lukecastellan yes obviously

user8 i. love. him.

☾. ⋅

"see i told you this would happen!" grover screeches, running away from percy who is threatening to castrate him if he doesn't get his phone back.

"i don't care! just give me the damn thing back!"

percy had groaned for two straight minutes when he found out that y/n was in boston this weekend - he had also face planted onto the couch and used some extremely obscene words.

"if it helps at least you'll be leaving on sunday," chris had offered in the midst of his crisis. it didn't help.

so now when grover trips over a fallen pillow - which may or may not be from percy's tantrum but we don't talk about that - and percy wrenches the phone from him a loud - and might grover add overtly girly - scream.

"WHAT THE FUCK? NO! NO NO NO NO!"

his screen is on the article grover had opened with really poorly photoshopped images of percy and y/n walking together. every gossip site/blog has swarmed the photos and circulated them sending the internet into a spiral.

"im fucking done with this grover," percy groans flopping onto the couch. "its a good thing we're leaving tomorrow - we'll be back in new york thats a huge ass city i wont see y/n there again and i can just go into hibernation, let all the rumours die down and be done with this whole shit show."

if only right....

☾. ⋅

yn.official

liked by sabrinacarpenter, lia.mandel, gracieabrams and 932, 841 others

yn.official feel like maybe i might go to boston! you were the best audience and im honoured to have performed for you these past two nights! heading home now to rest and recharge for the final shows in new york

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lia.mandel yayy you're finally coming home i missed you 🥺

yn.official bitch please its been like a week

lia.mandel and every second of it has been torture

user1 MOTHERRRR

user2 i think i nearly fainted when she came up on stage i was so happy i coulda died right then-

user3 the lyric makes me so happyyy

user4 ikrr y/n is like the queen of lyrics and the way she sneakily adds them into her posts 🤭

user5 WERE YOU WITH PERCY JACKSON THIS WEEKEND?? 🤨 I NEED TO KNOW

user6 y/n and percy are my dream celebrity ship

user7 they'd be the biggest power couple in history

user8 can you hard launch with percy plss?? i dont care if its fake i just need content to feed my delusions!

☾. ⋅

lia's soft snores fill the plane aggravating the hell out of you. usually you'd find the way she curled up in a ball underneath a blanket and snored quietly to be adorable. but since you're tired, just finished performing a concert and there's a problem with the jet, its grating on your nerves.

you had also been scrolling on twitter, instagram and pinterest, curled up underneath a matching blanket urging something to catch your attention while whatever work was being done on the plane happened.

unfortunately for you the thing that did catch your attention was the dozens of very clearly photoshopped pictures of you and percy walking together on a quiet street in boston.

no way in hell thats real. for one; ew and two; percy was only here for the weekend you were here for the week and you would've had no time to go out in between concerts.

eventually you doze off not realising you're in the air until you're ears pop waking you up to lia grinning mischievously.

"what asshole?"

"you're adorable when you wake up, you know that right?"

"yes i know."

"seriously the cutest human on the planet."

"what do you want lia?"

"a gossip podcast has picked up the subject of you and percy jackson. and the host is saying shit about you."

your eyes widen for a moment. "oh my god what? wow its almost as if i don't care!" ypu give lia a blank look. "this happens every three months lia, i do something and people either love it or hate it. thats the way it goes."

"yeah but this is PERCY JACKSON Y/N! he's gorgeousness personified."

"ugh can i go back to sleep? you can fangirl to me tomorrow when im in bed and pretending to listen."

"im offended." she leans over to place a kiss on your head. "but sleep tight babes, we land in like forty minutes."

shutting your eyes again you drift back to sleep.

only when you wake up do you realise you dreamed of percy...

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you] @lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle, @lara20aral, @cxp1d, @user-3113s-blog, @pleasingregulus, @avihashearts4lix, @inlovewithmorales, @brokecollegebitch, [if you want to be added just let me know!]

#percy x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy x y/n #percy x you #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fic #fanfic #fanfiction #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆#percy x popstar au ₊ ⊹

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