#I just want to paint a lot and get better because nothing feels right

[jakes3resin]

Modern Reincarnation AU Part 5 ✨️

Part 4

"Hello."

Bucky turned his head into the crook of his arms. The material of his new suit jacket itches at his cheeks, but he still rubbed his nose against it pretending it was enough to cover his sniffles. He wasn't interested in talking to whoever this was. He'd had enough with talking. Enough of people staring at him with pity as they offered condolences that didn't do anything. No one said anything worth listening to here anyway.

"You're John, right?" The person from before asked. Bucky could hear the rustle of clothing as whoever it was knelt down.

"It's Bucky." Bucky murmured. He refused to lift his head from his arms, so his voice came out muffled and wrong.

"Buffy? Like the vampire slayer?" The voice laughed. "Bit silly, but okay."

Bucky lifted his head to glare at the voice. He didn't care that the man was in a fancy uniform like his parents' old ones or that the kind smile on his face grew in triumph when he did so. No one was allowed to make fun of his name.

"My name is Bucky." Each word enuciated crisp and succinct.

"Well, my name's Chick, Chick Harding. Nice to meet you kid."

✨️

"Knew I'd find you out here."

Bucky doesn't turn to acknowledge Buck as the other leans out the kitchen window. Thankfully, he doesn't step out onto the stairs. Bucky's not sure he wants Buck in his space. It's easier at night when Bucky can pretend, can ignore the hurt just to bask in the comfort. In the daylight, it's the echo of Buck's voice that haunts him dogging his every step.

Don't count on it.

Damn it Curt, how many times do I have to tell you? He doesn't know!

The same voice over and over.

Bucky stares down at the traffic below, watching strangers running around going about their lives. Sometimes, he sits out here and imagines their lives. Imagines what brought them here, where they're going next, and how that changes them.

"Curt asked if we wanted to go out tonight. After dinner with your father, that is."

Curt... Bucky hides his wince by shifting against the railing. He hasn't spoken to Curt yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He'd had enough with talking.

"Not sure," Bucky shrugs, turning back to his book. He still doesn't look up at Buck. "Probably not."

"That's not like you." Shock colors Buck's voice. Bucky curls his knee closer leaving only one leg splayed out on the stairs above. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Bucky scoffs. He breathes out softens his voice. "I just don't think I'll feel up to it after dinner."

Buck makes a noise as if he understands, but the fib tastes like ash on Bucky's tongue. His fingers curls around his book, more homework he was supposed to finish at the library.

"You should go. Paint the town red." Bucky finally lifts his head to meet Buck's gaze. The other's face pales. Bucky tries not to feel vindictive. Or guilty.

"Maybe next time." Buck chokes out, voice gruff as he pulls his head back into the apartment.

✨️

"You gonna be calm about this?"

"What? I'm always calm."

"Bucky breaking his arm at baseball practice would disagree with that statement, Chick."

"Extenuating circumstances. He was crying!"

"And he was crying last night when I had to talk you out of calling in favors to take out a university student."

"Political office has to come with some perks. Why shouldn't I use them?"

"Because Congress can impeach you for misappropriating State Department resources, and I won't help you out of it."

"Didn't our marriage vows include for better or for worse?"

"Probably, but who knows? But back to my original point, keep your cool. We don't know what's going on between them."

"Right. I don't think I'm going to like this boy. He's too old for Bucky."

"He's twenty-six to Bucky's twenty-three. Our age gap is worse."

"Well, he still has a lot to explain."

"Sure. Would you get the good plates out of the china cabinet for me? Bucky will be here any minute."

"Yes, dear."

✨️

"We're here!" Bucky motioned Buck in first. Buck's big blue eyes took in the entryway. The high ceilings and beautifully decorated rooms certainly looked different from his college apartment.

"In here!" Jack's voice rang out. A crash echoed from the kitchen alongside his father's voice cursing. God Bucky hopes Jack didn't let him do any of the cooking. Bucky's already dealing with heartbreak he doesn't want to deal with food poisoning as well.

"Follow me," Bucky tried for a smile, but judging by the pinching around Buck's eyes, it was more likely a grimace. "If you're worried about an ambush, they'll at least wait until you've eaten something."

"Right." Buck reaches a hand out for Bucky's. His thumb rubs over Bucky's knuckles. "Let's face the music then."

Bucky leads the other through the living room towards the kitchen. Buck's eyes jumping over the many childhood photos of Bucky decorating the walls, the same wild curls and equally wild smile greeting him in each one.

"Bucky!"

Bucky's dragged out of Buck's hold by his father's hug. Shocks tingle at the tips of his fingers. He might have been imagining it, but it felt like Buck's hand tried to reel in him back.

"And you must be Gale Cleven." Bucky's dad reached a hand out to shake his hand. Bucky watched his father squeeze Buck's hand. Buck's smile never dipped.

"Mr. Secretary, you have a lovely home."

✨️

"So how did you two meet?" Chick asked as filled Jack's glass of wine alongside his own. Both Buck and Bucky had both chosen not to drink that night. Alcohol, as much as Bucky craved the release it gave him, probably wasn't the best idea for him tonight.

"Oh," Bucky cleared his throat. His food suddenly felt like sludge as it went down his throat.

This was fine. He'd prepared for this. He could play the lovesick kid tonight. Tomorrow, he'd confront Buck. He just had to make it through this dinner.

"At a coffee shop just off campus. Buck said I looked like a friend of his from Wisconsin. Said we shared the same name."

"That a fact?" Chick leveled Buck with an deep look. "And that's how the kids do it these days? Chance meetings in coffee shops?"

"Dad," Bucky groaned burying his face into his hands. "Please don't."

"What?" Chick nudged Jack who simply rolled his eyes at his husband's teasing. "Am I too embarrassing now? I thought I was a cool dad."

"Anyone who has to say they're a cool dad, ultimately is the lamest dad." Bucky laughed.

"I'll remember that next time you want a favor or special tickets to something." Chick threatened, but no one at the table truly believed him. His smile was too wide and happy when he looked at Bucky. Plus, Jack would testify that Chick had never denied Bucky anything since Bucky had come into his life.

"You're from Casper Wyoming, aren't you, Gale?" Chick turned his attention back to Buck. Bucky noticed that every time his dad called the other 'Gale,' his hands tightened around his utensils. "How'd you end up in DC?"

"School, sir. I'm a graduate student at Georgetown. Interplanetary physics." Gale took a sip of his water.

"Ever think about joining the Air Force?" Chick laid his knife down. "Degree like that could take you far. I knew a Major who studied the same thing once."

"No, sir." Buck's jaw clenched. "I respect those who serve, but I think I'm happy where I am."

"Chick," Jack laid a hand on Chick's forearm. "He's a retired Colonel, so you'll have to excuse him. Years at the State Department and somehow his allegiance is still to them."

"Not a problem." Buck's jaw finally unclenched. Bucky resisted the urge to reach for him. "Did you fly any of the big birds sir?"

✨️

"Sorry about them," Bucky glanced back towards Buck. The other had fallen behind, eyes distant as if lost in thought. "Buck?"

"Sorry?" Buck's eyes met his own once more.

"Now who's distracted?" Bucky let the other catch up. He twisted his hand out of the way when Buck went to hold it. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his phone to check on the status of their ride. Buck's hand felt back to his side.

"Sorry about the interrogation back there. He's protective."

"It's alright, Bucky." Buck smiles. "He's not so scary. Not to me, and not when it comes to you. Besides, I'd go through a lot worse to stay with you."

The words, heartfelt and genuine, felt sickening to hear.

What about Curt? Would you do the same for him?

The question was once more on the tip of his tongue, the rage and heartbreak burning in his chest, but the sound of the car arriving kept him quiet. Buck let him in first with an overly exaggerated sweep of his arm. Bucky settled into his seat with a laugh as Buck climbed in after him.

"Oh," Buck glanced down at his phone. His fingers tapped over the screen, but Bucky couldn't see who was texting him. "It's Curt."

"Really?" Bucky glanced down at his own phone checking his messages. Nothing from Curt.

"Yeah, he wants to know if you wanna go out tonight?" Buck frowns. "I'll tell him no."

"You know what?" Bucky shoves his phone back into his pocket. What better way to see the pair interact? "Let's do it. Paint the town red, right Buck?"

✨️

#modern reincarnation au #mota #masters of the air #buck x bucky #clegan #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #yes i flipped the ages a bit because i think in reincarnation aus thats a must #you can also tell one of my favorite shows was madam secretary bc i am so basing Chick's position as secretary of state off of that show #yes bucky was adopted by Chick who then later on married jack who didnt adopt bucky but is still his parent in a way #john egan #bucky egan #buck cleven #gale cleven #mota fic #mota au #buckbucky

[siredcrab]

a painting I did as warm up and its Damen for some reason

#i dint know where my art is heading right now #I just want to paint a lot and get better because nothing feels right #artists on tumblr #digital painting #digital illustration #digital art #damianos of akielos #fanart #captive prince

[creatingblackcharacters]

Lesson 1: "White Man Painted Black"?

Okay, I recognize that this is a strong foot to step off on! But! If you learn nothing else from this series, if you decide for whatever reason to forsake me: this is the ONE perspective I'd like you to take away!

You may have heard this quote before, when Black fans deride a character design as 'a white man with the brown bucket tool'. On its face, it means exactly what was said. But specifically, what it means is that we recognize that whomever designed the character drew the way they normally draw for a 'default' character in their mind- default usually meaning White/Eurocentric features- and they added a shade of brown within the line art to make that character now 'Black'.

Now if you're feeling defensive, wait just a moment! This discomfort is not inherently a bad thing!

I'm going to use both a 'real world' example first, to show you what your Black fans and peers are seeing, and perhaps you will also understand our discomfort!

(if anyone was curious, my folder for this lesson is titled 'brad' lmao and you'll see why)

(I'll have y'all know that I actually worked very hard to make Blackface Brad look mildly presentable lmao I'm sorry, I'm wheezing, I can hardly breathe looking at him 🤣)

You see how, despite knowing where this was going, and using one of the darkest shades of brown in my Skin Tones arsenal, you still know that that's Brad Pitt? That nothing about his hair texture, his lips, his nose, or really anything other than the palette change... changed? And you can still see that?

It's incredibly hurtful to be told that that's supposed to be you. You know it's not, you know why it's not, but rather than hearing how it makes you feel unseen and what they could do to be better (since they wanted to draw a Black character!), the artist lashes out at you.

And as an artist, you might have worked VERY HARD to do this! That might be a real handsome guy you drew!! But... is he really Black? Did you walk into it with the intention, that you were drawing a Black Character, or did you draw a character that just happened to be Black? It seems like a silly thing, but it matters!

Okay. I just finished laughing over Brad. Now let's get into some more perspective changes:

Now, imagine you drew a character. You want to make her Black, so you change the hair and skin colors. All right! You have your Black character... right?

Changed ONE feature about her? (You should obviously change more than one feature, but let's just go with the simplified example.)

What if, instead of just changing her palette, we changed her:

Hair?

There isn't nearly enough time in the world, let alone in this little scribble and blurb, for me to describe the IMPORTANCE of Black hair in Black character design. There are so many ways to do curls, afros, braids, twists, locs, SO MANY HAIRSTYLES!! Get used to searching in the 3C-4C hair textures!!!! I plan on doing an entire lesson or two on hair alone, but suffice it to say, Hair Texture is thee BIGGEST giveaway that you 'painted a white person Black'- from cartoon styles to realistic! It reveals itself in your writing as well- just based on how your character takes care of their hair, how your describe the texture, how other people might perceive it... it lets me know just how much research was done. Because we can have straight hair! But again, that's a conversation for a whole 'nother lesson so- come back later 👀?

Lips?

I love our lips, I really do. There's a long history of shaming Black women in particular for the way our lips look. So when I see them done in all their glory, it makes me very happy. Two-toned lips vary in shade and intensity, so make sure you're using references if you want to be 'realistic', but it doesn't have to be that hard. Even a little subtle shift like this in the design/story description lets me know that a creator was thinking about me.

Nose?

One thing I've noticed ever since I starting drawing is that... people in a lot of mangas/manhwas barely have noses! I admit, out of all the features on the face, the nose isn't the most important. I think they should be, especially when you want to emphasize that your characters look different! People have different types of noses! I especially want to gear this towards those with a goal of drawing realistic portraits and the like- there, the nose is ANOTHER dead giveaway. There are Black people with aquiline and straight noses- we aren't a monolith- but is that why you drew it? Consider why you went for that nose specifically. That's part of the intent, in all this!

Now, you might be looking at me and going "Ice... this is just character design". To which my answer is: Yes! It is! It feels so basic, and yet if you ask your Black friends/peers how often they've come across this feeling of not being properly drawn/written, from fanart to professionally produced works, it's unfortunately common despite how simple of a concept it is.

I hope that you can walk away from my first lil lesson with new eyes. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #black characters #black artists #black writers #black art #character design

[eponymous-rose]

A little thing I'm also really appreciating in this rewatch of TNG is something that seems to have all but disappeared in the age of tightly plotted, entirely serialized eight-episode miniseries TV: little slice-of-life moments that don't serve any driving plot purpose except to flesh out the world a little bit.

The scene with Picard's hairdresser earnestly telling him how he should better have handled diplomatic relations with the Romulans doesn't serve a deep narrative purpose in the sense of echoing the themes of the episode or foreshadowing some important moment with that hairdresser. It's there to share a little picture of the world - yes, there are still hairdressers in the future, yes, there's still awkward small-talk with said hairdressers. There's also the nice little reminder in all these domestic scenes that normal life is happening aboard the Enterprise, families and all, which adds to the sense of danger when the ship's in peril and paints the moments of war and conflict as uncomfortable juxtapositions. It's not there to serve the plot, it's there to build the world. And the characters! Picard's mostly-polite demurs, the reveal that Riker has been 100% humoring this guy like "oh man, we should've thought of that, you're so right". There's no reason to include it beyond reveling in the world.

I really miss that about a lot of modern TV - we get these needle-sharp hard dives through a world, coherent and concise and often quite lovely, but trying to take in the scope of the world around that plot is like watching out the window of a fast-moving train: you're getting nothing more than vague impressions at a remove. It's the difference between a guided tour of a museum and a self-guided tour: sometimes, at some museums, you just want to meander around a bit at your own pace and let it wash over you.

Given the choice, I'll almost always fall deeper in love with a show that's criticized for "filler" or "monster of the week" because I know it'll give its characters and its universe time to grow. That's what drew me to TV in the first place - I adore movies, but there's only so much you can do with character and world in 2-3 hours. Lately a lot of TV seems to be seen as a rather long movie with the odd break where you get up to make popcorn midway through. I think there's something unique about the format of television that's being lost in this attempt to emulate the structure of a movie, in the same way that some novels feel like they might as well just have been novellas or short stories. It's not just a longer version of the same thing. It has the potential to be something entirely different.

Give me the bloated 20-odd-episode seasons of the 90s and 00s, where characters grew and changed slowly, by inches, and we had the time to change along with them. I love the new stuff, don't get me wrong, but I sure miss that specific brand of mess.

#star trek

[harmoonix]

Astrology Notes ☙

By Harmoonix ❣️

☙ The beauty people with Pluto in the 1st house😍😍 These people can be very pretty and can have a very Scorpio Energy even if they don't have Scorpio Placements at all. But if you have Scorpio Placements and Pluto in the 1st house omggg this is too 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

☙ Did i forgot to say that Taurus Moons signs can be very possessive of their partners 👀, they are not toxic but they can get very possessive and jealous, they can be overprotective too. They can be extremely lovely and protect you with their own life

☙ You know you are the IT definition when your chart ruler is the Sun or Venus, or if you are Leo and Libra/Taurus Risings. These people are so popular and liked by everyone around

☙ Do you can know how hot Capricorn Risings can be???🔥🔥👀👀👀 They are from another planet i swear most models are having this ascendant and they look 💥💥💥💥🤯🤯🤯 AMAZING. Capricorn Risigns you are BLESSED

☙ Mars square Ascendant is a very hot aspect, most people with with this aspect look very attractive they can have high succes in media, because they can get a lot of people attention, this will sound funny but they look gorgeous with sun glasses on 😍

☙ Jupiter - Mars aspects have a really big high drive, they can be very horny, can have a very horny personality, it depends what people are they attracted because they can manifest their partners and they love to explore their sexuality too

☙ Uranus - Sun aspects, you just know they are unique and strong, nothing can stop them, these people radiate electric energy, just because Uranus and Sun together can have a very big and warm energy 💞

☙ I have seen people talking so bad about the 8th house placements, and I want to confirm that they are not right at all. People with 8th house placements are very powerful people especially if you have luminaries (Sun/Moon in the 8th house) or the chart ruler in the 8th house. They are like a phoenix and they re-born themselves if they are hurt. Karma is coming back for you very fast if you hurt such people.

☙ Jupiter Retrograde in a chart can means that you need to focus on your self and your goals more and you can see the luck coming for you, especially on traveling, try to travel to explore to go in search of new things because there is a high chance you will find luck there

☙ People with Venus in Cancer Degrees: 4°, 16°,28°, can get attached very fast to their partners, they give such "mom energy" they might like to take care and protect their partners a lot, nurturing them, but these people wanna feel secure around their partners either they can be very anxious about their relationshis

☙ Cancer in the 5th/6th house can have a big big big love for pets, they can have a lot of pets around them and there is a big chance these natives grew around animals in their childhood, maybe they had a lot of pets at home 🙀

☙ Mars in the 2nd house can help you with getting money fast at your job and at manifesting money, Mars in the 2nd house can be very influential if you wanna have a big wallet 🤩

☙ Pisces in the 10th house is a sign that you can be very good at singing. singing can help you to develop a career in singing or voice acting. 🎸. Painting and arts can apply too and also if you have the Midheaven at Pisces Degrees (12°,24°)

☙ Aries Risings OMG these people are like born with fire in their eyes and hearts, i swear all you need to do is to look in their eyes. Their looks is very mesmerizing, the 1st house feels so good in the sign of Aries ♈🐏

☙Capricorn Suns are having a very warm side too, there are many people saying "Capricorns are cold", "Capricorns are mean".... These people are humans after all and still have feelings? And of course they a soft side like all zodiac signs do. They can be very sweet with you, if you start to know them better and better you see they are not cold. These people are very sweet in all the ways posibile 💎

☙ People with 2th house Stelliums are here to be rich and expensive they do not joke when they wanna get that cashhhhhhh, get that cash guyssss. Applying if you have the North Node in the 2nd House too focus on being financial secure and don't depend on anybody 🌈

☙ People with a 12th house Stelliums can be very spiritual and connected to the spiritual world. They can see spirits or shadows and they can get body sensations like goosebumps very randomly

☙ Mercury in Scorpio can be very hard and fast at cussing people, when someone does them wrong or dirty they can come very fast to cuss them 🤣

☙Can we all appreciate how Aquarius Moons can stay so calm even in bad situations? Their calm omg and positive mentality is helping them a lot trough their situations

☙Ascendant at Libra Degrees (7°,19°) gives natives a very natural charm, they can have pretty lips and big eyes 👀. They can also have a good fashion taste, they can be very organised and take things veryyy seriously.

☙Ascendant at Aquarius Degrees (11°, 23°) gives natives very unique features, they can have bulging eyes/the eyes can have a very nice shape. The natives can be very tall and intelligent, good at working in online media. They can also be very good at making friends and having a social group around them. ✨

☙ Ascendant - Mercury aspects natives can be very easily for them to talk and to express themselves, they can be social butterflies. They are very smart too and very wise. These natives have a good knowledge and they can mentor other people and help them by communicating their feelings.

☙ People with Sun and Moon harsh aspects they are not having good either because they can face personality problems and they can find themselves struggling a lot. This aspect is the definition of Brain (Sun) vs - Heart (Moon) fight, who you gonna listen and choose to guide you first? Your heart or your brain? They can also have family problems (Sun - father) - (Moon - Mother). But these people are very strong ones because imagine to have both luminaries aspecting each other, is definitely not for the weak 💎💎💎

☙ Virgo Risings are having a highly feminine energy and aura. Doesn't matter the gender,if you have a Virgo Rising you have a high feminine energy. It's a very nurturing placements in harmony with nature and Virgo Risings can have an amazing hair like omggg 👀👀👀 how does y'all's hair look so good ???

🔥Mature Content🔥

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☙ Mercury in 8th house might talk a lot about sexuality and taboo things, they try to communicate while using dirty talk and flirting too 👀😍 these people are having a very sexual of communicating and expressing themselves but they are also very powerful in talking. They can give good speech and make people to listen to them

☙ Venus in Leo/5th house might like/have a tendency to be naked a lot around their partners, not 100% naked but wearing clothes who can highlights their bodies and the same can apply to Venus in Sagittarius or in the 9th house. Let's just say that people with these placements might like to tease their partners a lot 🔥👀

☙ Jupiter in Capricorn/Taurus or Jupiter in the 2nd/10th house natives might get spouse/husbands with big...👀👀👀 You know what's coming after..🔥🔥🔥 your husband can have great body/bones can be muscular too

☙You just know that people with heavy Scorpio placements have a lot of kinks and BDSM, it just happens for them to like it rough

☙ Aquarius's placements (mostly in big 6: Sun,Moon,Rising,Venus,Mars, Mercury) are highly kinky too and very passionate, when it comes to 18+ in Astrology, Aquarius Placements are highly underrated, these people can make you feel like heaven, so they are 100% very hot people 🔥👀

☙Neptune in 8th/12th houses are very sexual OMG these people are MY people 😍. Because they can spend all day dreaming about their partners, they can also have a lot of dreams and fantasies about their partners these people are intense at a very different level. Very intense, very hot, very charming 😍

☙ NEPTUNE IN THE 7TH HOUSE OMG these people can create a very big soul bounding with their partners they crave for love from their partners and they love little things in relationships. But these people are blessed getting such attractive spouses 😭 because Neptune can mean attractiveness too and in the 7th house of relationships and partners omggggg

☙ HEAR ME Y'ALL: JUNO - NEPTUNE ASPECTS mostly harmonious aspects (Trine,Sextile, Conjunction) similar to what i said about Neptune in the 7th house these people create a soul bounding with their partners and they can attract such hot SPOUSES 🔥😍🔥😍🔥😍 their spouses can be very sensual too. I feel this is also a very karmic placement because is also spiritual you can be connected spiritual with your spouse if you have your Juno/Neptune in the 12th/9th houses 😍😍😍 y'all these aspects are sooo hottt i love them (Juno asteroid code 3)

☙ JUNO - MARS aspectsssss another intense placements it can show your spouse can be EXTREMELY SENSUAL AND PASSIONATE, a lot of kinks omg😍😍😍 they can make you feel like heaven. Spouse can be hella attractive, pretty charming flirting everything sensual...THEY HAVE ITTT ALL. YOUR spouse is having a very attractive personality. So far one of the best Juno Placements to have (Juno asteroid code: 3)

☙ I heard Gemini's Placements are very good in bed too 👀, they can be very focused on what are they doing, they might not have such as many kinks are Scorpios but they are more into positions they like to try a lot of things and to experience a lot, they might not have many kinks but they are highly ROMANTIC.

☙JUNO IN THE 1ST HOUSE 🔥🔥🔥🔥. Definitely one of the most sensual placements to also if you have Juno here.... YOU ARE VERY desirable, a lot of people can wish you for them to be their partners. I'm not joking people with this Placement are having many admirations. BUTTT THEIR SPOUSESSSS 🔥🔥🤯🔥🤯🔥🤯🔥🤯🔥🔥🤯🤯🔥🔥🤯🔥 OMG your spouse can be very needy of you very lovely, high attraction to eachother, good pleasure time too 👀🔥👀🤯👀🤯👀 y'all are luckyyyy your spouse can also be very popular and a lot of people can know him. I adore this placement 💋

I will make more and more notes about a lot of placements because i have many many ideas about it. Don't worry if you don't have any placement here i have more posts about it;

Here too part 1 and 2;

Here is part 2💋💋💋💋

Hope you gonna find something you like in these posts and i have a lot more to make and post 💋💋💋👀👀👀 just wait for it because i have so many ideas.

With love, Harmoonix ❣️

#astro observations #astrology #birth chart #astrology observations #placements #venus #asteroid observations #astro notes #ascendant #juno #juno in the first house #juno in the 12th house #attractive #astrlogy placements #astrology notes #pluto in the 1st house #taurus moon #libra rising #virgo rising #aries rising #capricorn rising #aquarius rising #aquarius placements #uranus #jupiter #pluto #cancer #mars #capricorn sun #neptune

[assumptionprime]

My relationship with mirrors has been a real rollercoaster over the past year and half or so. Don't get me wrong, I can still absolutely rip my reflection to metaphorical shreds on a bad day. But more often I find myself passing by the mirror and liking what I see more than I ever have before.

We're in a better place now, me and reflective surfaces.

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[image description: Comic, 12 panels. Panel 1: Pre-transition Robin looking in the mirror. Captions "I used to feel nothing when I looked in the mirror. Not good. Not Bad. Not even "fine" Panel 2: Past Robin's reflection, with no eyes, and cast in shadow. Captions "I was apathetic. I think I had to be." Panel 3: A large iceberg viewed from above and below the surface of an ocean. Above the water it is light blue and average-looking, hidden beneath the blue gives way to the alternating pink, white and blue of the trans pride flag. Captions "I think I had a feeling that if I thought about it too hard-- I would find a much deeper problem." The panel borders are cracked and broken. Panel 4:  A mirror with pre transition Robin after admitting to her own transness. She is gripping her head and shirt in distress, eyes wide at the sight of herself. Stubble dots her face and arms. Captions "When I inevitably did find that deeper problem-- Mirrors quickly became terrible for me. I knew that I didn't like myself. I knew why." Panel 5: Severly cracked panels holding bits of Robin, exaggerated in intensity, brows and hairline, nose and stubbled lip, stubble arms. Captions: "And I could see it-- in every inch-- of my reflection." Panel 6: Robin's fingers digging into a stubbled arm. Captions: "If I looked too long, I started to feel trapped in my skin." Fuzzy paint bordered panels, watercolors bleeding through the lines of the images. Panel 7: Female Robin, face indistinct, reaching toward the screen. Captions "Shortly after I started HRT, I had a dream that stuck with me. I looked in the mirror and saw myself as a woman. That part was hardly unique. I'd done that before. (Kind of a lot.)" Panel 8: Bottles of medication, labels indistinct and unreadable. Captions "But in those older dreams it was always that I woke up that way, or something magic had happened. In this dream, I know that this was because I had transitioned, and it had worked. Panel 9: Dream Robin smiling. Captions "I don't remember exactly what I looked like. But I do remember that in that moment, I was happy to see myself." Return to normal panel borders. Panel 10: Past Robin waking up in bed. Captions "At the time, it was just a nice little confirmation that I was on the right track. That, deep down, I truly did want to do this." Panel 11: Present Robin, over year into transition, looking toward the screen in surprise. Caption "The thing I somehow didn't expect was that only a year later-" Panel 12: Robin looking the mirror, smiling. Caption "I'd start having the same moment while I'm awake."]

#comic #art #transgender #trans #trans stuff #when will my reflection SHOWWWWWWW

[reiding-writing]

Hi i am absolutely in love with your writing. If you want to, could you write Reid having one of his migraines and reader just comforts him, yk massaging his scalp and forehead and whatnot while he lay in her lap. Idk man i just wanna see my boy get some relief from his headaches because in the show he just suffers through them ☹️

migraine massages [ s.r ]

Summary:

Migraines are the worst. They hurt and they stop you from doing absolutely everything. Spencer was silently pleading for relief from his own body, and you plan to fulfil those needs.

WARNINGS: details of migraines, vomit mentions, mentions of spencer’s addiction, mentions of relapse

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort

wc: 2.7k

masterlist!!

a/n: can’t have hurt/comfort without the hurt. from a personal perspective, migraines suck bro. they suck so bad.

i’m also mildly disappointed that they didn’t expand the migraine thing after they dropped the original tumour reason, like they could’ve done so much with it-

thanks for the request! <33

Spencer felt like his skull was being hammered from the inside out. Like his brain was silently vying to escape it’s confines and break out of the bone. He felt like every nerve of his body was working against him to make sure he had the most miserable day humanly possible.

He felt like if he moved an inch from his position that the coffee and croissant that he had for breakfast this morning in an attempt to make himself feel better was going to force it’s way up out of his stomach and paint his desk in a sea of vomit.

The tinnitus ringing in his ears didn’t help, nor did the agitatingly bright while florescent lights of the office that he’d never seemed to take much notice of before.

His shoulders ached as he rested his head in his hands, his thumbs negligibly working against his temples to attempt to relieve some of the aching pressure that sent waves through his head and made him want to curl up into ball under his bed covers and never wake up.

“Spence? Are you okay?” Your voice is deliberately quiet as you approach his desk on your return from the kitchenette, steaming mug of coffee cupped in your hands and concern written all over your face.

You can almost hear the sigh of relief as he realises it’s just you and not Hotch asking him for the fourth time today for the file he’d been trying to finish for the last almost three hours.

He doesn’t look up at you yet, merely replying a weak “hi…yeah…just a headache”

You can see him try to suppress a grimace as his own voice overloads his eardrums and sends another wave of pain through his head.

You knew what a headache looked like. And what he was experiencing looked nothing like ‘just a headache’.

“A headache? You look like you’re in a lot of pain, have you-” You begin to question his pain relief, but catch yourself before asking about painkillers. As much as they definitely shouldn’t be, opioids are the most common form of pain relief prescribed for migranes, and you knew that if he had gone to the doctors for the pain, he would’ve turned them down.

At least you hope so anyway.

“Have you… had it for long?”

There’s a pause, before an almost imperceptible nod comes from him. “Three hours… three hours and eighteen minutes…. I thought it was gonna pass but… it’s getting worse….” he swallows before forcing out the next part “…I feel sick….”

You give him a small nod and a pursed expression, becoming increasingly concerned as he continues his explanation, and you can just barely catch how pale his face has gone underneath his hands.

“You should go home Spence…”

He looks up from his desk at that suggestion. As he’s trying to answer he gets cut off by a blinding pain that explodes behind his eyes. He gasps and clutches his head, dropping back into his chair before closing his eyes. “Agh….”

“Spencer…” You can’t help but wince slightly at Spencer’s clear display of pain. “Let me drive you home, you’re not fit to work right now,”

He wants to argue but his mouth is dry. The pain is just too much for him to focus on anything else, including having an opinion, so instead he simply nods.

“Give me two seconds okay? I’m going to go and tell Hotch and then we can go,”

That seems to be a satisfactory answer for now, because he just nods again. He’s not quite ready for the onslaught of light and sounds that will be the outside world just yet. He simply leans his head back and closes his eyes, trying to relax and focus on his breathing.

It takes you a little under two minutes to return, and the first thing you do is take both of your messenger bags onto your shoulder and dispose of your coffee mug on your desk.

You hold out a hand tentatively to him to help him up from his chair. “Here, let’s get you home,”

He takes your hand, slowly getting on his feet as his change in positioning sends another wave of pain shooting through the front of his head. He’s leaning on you for balance as you lead him out of the BAU office. His vision is still blurry, but at least having someone to lean on stops him from having to risk tripping over.

You have to help him into your car once your reach the parking lot, reclining the passenger’s seat as far back as it’ll go so that he’s not forced to sit upright for the whole ten minute drive.

You make an effort to keep the vehicle smooth as you pull out of the office, checking periodically over at your side to make sure that Spencer is alright. Or as alright as he can be anyway.

Once you reach Spencer’s apartment complex, you shut off the car and collect both of your belongings, getting out yourself and then walking around to assist Spencer in getting up.

It’s clear from his expression that he wouldn’t’ve managed the task on his own. He leans on you in a combination of gratitude, comfort and convenience, and he continues to use you as a crutch through the front entrance to the elevator and all the way up to his apartment door, where he struggles to insert his key in the lock through his shaking hands.

“You got it?”

He gives a weak “mhm” as he fumbles with the keys in the lock for a few seconds more, but eventually manages to unlock the door and step inside with you.

“Take a seat Spence,” You lead him carefully over to his couch and sit him down before walking across the room to pull his curtains shut and dump your bags on his reading chair.

As you pull the curtains shut and turn around again, you notice the room being a little messier than usual. Books and papers have been scattered over the room, and there were several mugs and glasses dotted around.

Clearly this wasn’t his first migrane.

Spencer is increasingly grateful the room isn’t too bright as the shade covers the room, allowing him to relax into the cushions of the sofa as you kneel to help him remove his shoes before removing your own.

He doesn’t resist your assistance. The pain still hasn’t subsided enough for him to be in the mood to resist anything. He keeps his eyes closed the whole time you unlace his shoes, just grateful for any relief he can get.

“l’m going to get you some water okay?” Spencer nods at this suggestion. At this point he’s too tired and nauseous to try and fight you, so as you leave the room, he lays his head over the back of the couch and just waits for you to come back with the water.

You return with both a glass of water and a small holding a few ice cubes, handing Spencer the glass and leaving the towel on the coffee table to chill under the presence of the ice. “Drink,”

He takes the glass from you, before slowly leaning forward and sipping the water. Your presence seems to bring him a lot of comfort, much more than he probably realises.

He continues drinking until the glass is empty, seemingly more dehydrated than he realised.

You take a seat next to Spencer has he finishes the glass, and you take it from him gently and place it down on his coffee table.

He takes a deep breath in, and out, leaning back into the couch once more.

He’s trying so hard to focus on something other than his pain, but it’s difficult. So instead he focuses on one of the only other things he can feel, which is the warmth you radiate as you sit next to him. “Here, lie down Spence,”

You put a hand on his shoulder to help try and ease him down slowly so he doesn’t put himself in any more pain. “But there’s no space..”

“You can put your head in my lap it’s okay,” You lean over to grab the now cold towel, leaving the ice in the empty glass before patting your thighs as an indication for him to lie down. “Let me see if I can relive some of that lingering tension,”

If he were of his right mind right now he would’ve been somewhat embarrassed in such a scenario, but right now he’s just too tired and in pain to do anything else but submit to the situation.

He lays his head into your lap slowly, his face relaxing as he looks up at you with grateful eyes.

You chuckle softly as he blinks up at you, leaning down over him slightly to brush some hair off of his forehead. “Close your eyes Spence,”

You can see a slight pinkness in his cheeks as he closes his eyes. His expression is the perfect combination of relaxed and sleepy, although you can still see the traces of the pain he’s feeling through the knit in his eyebrows and the tension in his shoulders.

Just hearing the sound of your voice fills his head with warmth and relaxation; Even if his head is still pounding he feels a lot better just being able to listen to you.

As his eyelids flutter closed, you place the damp cold towel over them, raking your fingers gently through his hair to ensure that nothing gets caught underneath the fabric ans slowly detangling it in the process.

For a moment your touch sends him into heaven, and he can actually feel the tension and pain receding from his body.

As he relaxes, his body slowly begins to respond to the touch with warm and fuzzy feelings. He wants to savour every second of this, to commit the sensation to memory, to never forget the feeling of your warm and gentle touch.

“How long have you been having migraines for Spencer?” You make an effort to keep your tone as soft as possible, moving your attention from running your hands through his hair to kneading your fingers against his temples.

“they’re a fairly recent thing… been having them on and off for a few weeks now….” As your hands work on his temples the pain once again starts to recede significantly. It’s still there, it probably will be for a long time, but it’s no longer all pervading. “…they can be a little debilitating some days….”

“Have you…” you trail off your question, unsure if your right to ask him it. “Never mind-“

He pulls the fabric of the towel from his eyes and blinks them up at you. The dark circles under his eyes are still clearly evident, but it’s not really surprising considering all that’s been happening to him. “…you were gonna ask if i’ve been using again weren’t you?”

“…i’m just worried about you…”

You continue to gently massage at his temples as he sees right through your apprehension.

He can’t help but sigh softly as you indirectly admit to him being right in his assumption of your question. Your concern is appreciated, albeit unnecessary. “…I’m not using anymore… I quit… I’m serious…”

He plasters a small smile on his face as a form of reassurance, though it’s pretty weak considering the fatigue his headache was providing him. “Just having a bad bout of migraines this week… that’s all….”

“Can I just- see your arms? Please?” Your fingers halt their movements as you ask the question, fully focused on receiving an answer. “I just want to make sure…”

His body tenses up a little bit as the request is made, but he complies nonetheless. He slowly raises his arms and hikes up his shirt sleeves, exposing the flesh of his forearms to your view.

There’s no marks on them, no dark scars and no signs of track marks.

He’s clean, and you can tell from his body language alone that he’s telling the truth.

You can feel your shoulders physically relax as your eyes examine his skin, and your expression softens as you look down at him. “thank you…”

“I told you, I’m serious about staying clean….” He lowers his arms, closing his eyes again. He’s back where he was a few minutes ago, a man almost fully at peace despite the fact that he’s still in pain.

“I know Spence..” You scratch gently at his scalp, feeling a little guilty about unofficially accusing him of a potential relapse. But you had to know. You had to know that he was alright.

“I just care about you… I want you to be okay..”

As your fingers brush the base of his scalp he shivers slightly. The feeling is incredibly relaxing, more so than even the previous massage. He smiles softly at the fact that the pain has at least become bearable for now. “Thanks for looking after me…”

“Always,” The pad of your thumb brushes lightly against his cheekbone as you move to tuck a stand of hair behind his ear, knocked loose by him pulling on the hand towel that now laid crumpled on the floor.

Spencer’s eyes flicker slightly. The movement of your fingers across his cheeks is soothing, but also makes him feel something else entirely. It’s hard to describe.

He can’t deny the sensation that rises up from his stomach at these small gestures of affection. A part of him is enjoying it more than is probably okay, given the situation and how tired he is. All it amounts to are butterflies, but that’s enough to make his cheeks flush slightly. “you should take a nap Spencer,”

“mhm…” He nods in agreement. “but can I ask you a small favour first…?”

You mirror his nod with one of your own, your fingers returning to scratching gentle lines against his scalp. “Of course you can,”

There’s a small moment of silence before he speaks again, his eyes flickering between you and the ceiling.

“can you stay with me?”

His question is more of a request, and you swear that you melt from the innocent pleading in his tone.

With you around it’s almost like he doesn’t notice the pain at all. When he closes his eyes it feels like the world is completely at peace, like there’s no need to worry about anything else at this moment in time.

“…please…?” the last word is almost a whisper.

You don’t hesitate in your answer, giving him a soft smile. “of course i will..”

You let out a small breath of air alongside your words, your eyes entranced with the relaxed expression on Spencer’s face, mixed with relief at your willingness to spend a few more hours with him.

Spencer feels a small smile form on his lips as you respond. His hands raise slightly and clutch at your thighs, gently gripping at them almost compulsively.

Now that he knows you’ll be sticking around for a while, all he wants to do is fall asleep in your company.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #asks 🫶

[lovebugism]

Spoooooky request, what if the gang went to a haunted house and everyone made fun of reader for being scared, but Steve holds her hand and walks with her 👻

thanks for requesting angel! i switched it up a bit and did a sort of second part to this fic! you def don't have to read it but it'll give some context :D — you're still getting used to the world post-vecna, but it's easier with steve holding your hand

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The haunted house off Fifth Street looks strangely familiar. Two stories, faded cornflower paint job, boarded up windows. It looks like a dollhouse from hell. It looks like the goddamn Creel House. It’s like some kind of sick joke.

It didn’t take Hawkins very long to recover from last spring. Mostly because it was just an earthquake to everyone else. No one died, nothing was ruined beyond repair. To the rest of the town, it was just a minor natural disaster — an inconvenience more than anything.

No one knows that a thirteen-year-old girl killed the monster trying to end the world. No one knows that the local freak nearly died saving a bunch of teenagers. No one knows that one song, one heavy metal guitar, and one good memory just narrowly saved your life. 

It’s secrets all of you are gonna have to keep for the rest of your lives. It weighs you down accordingly.

“Am I crazy, or is that…?” Robin trails off, freckled chin tilted towards the velvet blue sky as she gapes at the artificially rotted house. It glows a sickly green color on the outside. The windows light up red every now and then, in time with the screams echoing from the upper story.

“Yeah,” Nancy answers, breathless and equally dumbfounded. “I think it is.”

A beat of silence falls over the group of you. It doesn’t feel so heavy with the surrounding chatter. The crowd continues to bustle around you on the street, falling over themselves with laughter and lingering fright. They have no idea the ghost story they grew up with nearly destroyed the world.

The bitter realization makes your chest ache. Steve seemingly understands this and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You wonder if he can feel the way you tremble.

Eddie scoffs a cynical laugh from the other side of you. A pink, sadistic grin tugs at his lips, almost as wild as his curls billowing in the autumn breeze. “It’s basically kismet then, huh?”

Steve shoots the boy a half-hearted glare, then deflates because he realizes he can’t really be mad about it. Those damn demobats might’ve taken a pound of flesh from his stomach, but it’s nowhere near the feast they made out of Munson.

“C’mon on, dude,” he murmurs quietly with a subtle nod down at you.

“What?” Eddie snorts. “If I don’t laugh bout it, I’ll start crying, so… Take your pick, man.”

Steve wants to tell him that there’s no shame in crying. That he’s done it plenty of times since the fall of ’84. He’s cried for you, for himself, for the kids who will never get to be kids again. He figures it’s better than letting it all build up until you damn near explode. 

But now’s probably not the best time for that talk. Or any time, really. He’ll get you to get all serious and sappy with Eddie about that another time, just like you did for him.

“I’m gonna, uh— I’m gonna go get the tickets,” Jonathan murmurs with his usual Byers mumblings. 

He wasn’t around for the whole Vecna ordeal — just the weird shit in California and the secret lair thing in Nevada. He feels like he can be a bit braver about the whole thing for the four of you.

Nancy brushes a kiss to the boy’s cheek before he leaves. She does that a lot now, with Jonathan and all the rest of you. She always feels like she needs to say a proper goodbye and I love you whenever someone leaves. Just in case the world decides to end again.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Steve mutters to you, gaze twinkling with sincerity but stern still. “You know that, right?”

He knows that you know, but he feels the need to say it anyway. Mostly because he knows you were already scared of most things before everything went to shit. You’ve always been delicate, tender, like an open wound. Now, you can’t step outside without shaking. You’re always shuddering with the distant fear that the curse might return and no one will be there to save you.

Steve knows this, too. That’s why he holds so ardently to your trembling hand. It’s a silent reminder that he’s there, that he won’t let anything happen to you again, that he’ll always be around to save you when you need him.

“Oh, my god,” Robin groans, eyes wide and head tilted back. “Leave her alone, Steve! She’s fine!”

You know she’s just trying to be supportive. She thinks Steve’s coddling you because you’re quiet — that he’s sticking up for you because he thinks you can’t stick up for yourself. 

He is. And you can’t. But still, she’s only trying to help.

Steve looks to his left to glare at her. They seem to communicate telepathically for a moment. His eyes soften again when he turns back to you. His deep cinnamon gaze swims with a honeyed concern, a silent “Are you fine?”

You nod. “I’m okay,” you tell him, mustering a soft smile that wavers at the edges.

He doesn’t believe you, not completely, but he doesn’t press it any further.

Jonathan returns with the ticket stubs. They’re black and blood red. You take the one he gives you with hesitant, clammy hands. He seems to notice how terrified you are without you having to say a single goddamn word.

“I’m not a huge fan of these things either,” he confesses with a thin-lipped smile. A light-hearted way of telling you that you’re not alone in the fear you keep hidden (very poorly hidden, you figure).

You smile back at him, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. 

Your fingers fidget with the paper stub — maybe a distraction for yourself or maybe to hide how you’re too anxious to stay still. Steve figures it’s a bit of both. ‘Cause he knows you too well and not a thing gets by him. There’s nothing about you that he doesn’t notice.

He turns to face you completely while everyone else gets their ticket. He keeps his wedged between his middle and forefinger as his hands curl around the outsides of your elbows. He’s serious, but still soft — gentle, but still firm. 

“Babe—”

“Stevie,” you interject with a similar tone. “I’m okay.”

“You heard her, Stevie. She’s fine!” Robin retorts, curling her maroon-tinted lips into a smirk. She scoffs out a laugh and gestures up to the fake haunt across the street. “This shit is basically for kids. No one’s dying here, alright?”

You know what she’s doing. She’s sticking up for you and taking the piss out of her best friend at the same time. It’s nothing new — hell, it’s her favorite hobby. She’s got your back now the same way she had it in that house last spring. 

But still, her words sting a little.

Because she’s right. This place is for kids. And you still feel a bit like you’re dying.

Steve knows this, too. He knows everything about you. Even the stuff you wish he didn’t.

His sneakers scuff against the pavement when he turns to Robin. His eyes narrow in a challenging squint as he crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t look quite as intimidating as usual in his fluffy, cable-knit sweater. 

“Well, you know what? I’m scared, actually. I don’t wanna do it, okay? You got me, Rob.”

The girl grins something cynical. She shakes her head all slow, like she’s just caught him in some kind of lie. “I knew it. You little baby.”

Steve lets her tease him. It’s not like he isn’t used to it by now. He just rolls his eyes and bears it, lets her laugh about it with the rest of the group as they head towards the haunted house. 

You watch with an attentive gaze while they head inside, flinching softly when you hear a thunderous boom and the sound of their screaming a second later. It leaves you secretly grateful that you hadn’t gone in behind them. 

A wavering sigh tumbles from your lips, a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Steve exhales a gentle laugh from beside you. He smooths a wide palm up your spine and down again. He leans over to press the side of his hip against yours.

You cross your arms over your chest to make yourself as small as possible while you glance over at the boy beside you. You look at him so far beneath your lashes you’re basically peering at him from the corner of your eye.

“Thank you,” is all you say. It’s all you need to say.

Steve shrugs with a plush, crooked grin. “’S okay. I know you’re too sweet to say no, so…”

“I wanted to do it,” you confess, clearing your throat when your voice breaks.

“I know.”

“I guess I’m not… as used to everything as I thought.”

“I know,” Steve repeats. His hand curls around your waist and makes a home in the very center of it. He pulls you closer with the urge to melt into you. His brows raise, eyes sparkling when his smile widens. “But that’s why I’m here, though, right? We’re gonna get better together.”

You nod up at him, smiling more sincerely now. 

Arms still crossed, your hands ball into fists to fight the urge to smooth a hand through his hair — to push back the rogue chestnut strands hanging over his forehead.

You hesitate, so he beats you to the draw. He swipes a golden hand over his head right before he leans down to kiss you. 

He smacks a sweet peck to your smile. A bright light flashes with another thunderous boom a moment later. You flinch and pull back. You swear you hear Eddie screaming, “jesus fucking christ!” from the upper story. You forget to be scared.

You didn’t think it was possible. The whole getting better thing.

Steve makes you feel like could be.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

[heartfullofleeches]

Creep Yan meets the sweet angel that is Clown Darling-

It was an accident. They swear it to their grave.

A left instead of a right somewhere down the twisting, spacious corridors of the convention center. They could've sworn they followed the receptionist's directions down to the letter, but playing back her voice in their head they're starting to believe she just made up whatever she could to get them to leave. What should have led them to the hall holding the annual concert for their favorite idol group had in actuality brought them to a another venue with an entirely different type of star.

The clown's smiling face was plastered on every wall. Children and young adults of all ages walked in hand with their guardians wearing the same face paint or best imitation of the entertainers outfit they could readily obtain. There were others closer to their age, but none as out of their element as them. Collectors exchanging priceless goods: bonding over favorite moments from what sounds to be a show. Is this what they're like with people who share the same interests? When they're apart of the crowd it feels normal, but how could a kid's show have such an effect on grown adults? They feel like such an outcast - and they know others know they are too. They can hear the words behind every stare throw at them.

"What are they doing in here...."

"Creeps like that are exactly what it's difficult to bring kids to public events."

"Freak."

They stumble through the booths, searching desperately for the exit they lost sight of shortly before realizing where they were. Tears obscure their vision as they collapse next to a row of chairs left out for guests. The concert had to have started by now and at this raise they'll never make it before the doors close. They finally had the chance to see their favorite group in person and now it was gone. Why did they ever think the universe would give them a opportunity for better after an eternity of hell. At this rate it would be better to just go home....

Hic....hic...

Soft cries bellow from the body sitting next to them. They wipe at their eyes with a striped handkerchief, careful not to smudge their face paint. From their mismatch shoes to their brightly colored clothes it was easy to pin them as another cosplayer, but there was something more... authentic about their wear. They cry silently into their hands without spilling a tear.

"Are....are you okay?"

The clown looks up at them, sighing heavily. "Oh, I'm alright. I'm just sad because you're sad. I've seen so many happy faces today and you're the first I've seen upset. It's enough to bring a tear to anyone's eye."

They tighten grip the strap of their bag. "I... can go somewhere else..."

"No, no!" The clown bounces to their feet and takes their hands - startling them. "I'm not saying that because I want you to go away. I'm saying that because I want to make you feel better, silly! Why don't we start with you telling me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing.... You don't want to hear about stuff like that it's depressing."

"Hm... can I at least try to make you happier?"

"You can try..."

"Great! Repeat after me."

The clown clears their throat as they kneel.

"When I'm feeling lonely, or think I just might frown. I think think a thought that means a lot and then I feel less down.

The clown's smile reaches the painted circles on their cheeks. "Its the song I teach all my new friends. Now you try!"

"When I'm feeling lonely...."

"Or think I just might frown."

"I think a thought that means a lot."

"And then I feel less down." The clown squeals as they clap they hands together. "Yay! You did it! And very well if I may add. How do you feel now?"

They pause for a moment, lips moist as they think about their mother's chocolate cake. There's still a slice left in their fridge. "A little better...."

"Now, tell me a thought that makes you feel better."

"Well... I really like listening to music...." Their smile is gone as soon as it came. "I actually came to see a concert today, but I got lost...."

"Concert? You mean like those sweet girls next door? Haha, you can hear them right through the walls? I guess it is difficult with all the screaming kids. Come on, I'll take you!"

They place their ear against the wall. Sure enough, music and the roars of the crowd blare through the structure. They cup their hands around their ears to hear better and decipher if their favorite song has already played - yanked from their seat before they can properly make out a single note.

"Come on, Come on!"

The clown giggles, clutching their hand as they skip and excuse their way through the crowd - promising younger guests their full attention upon their return with a quick hug and a free sticker. It's all the time the person they drag with them has to recuperate before being pulled along again.

"Wait... please... I can't...."

"We're here!"

Catching their breath, they look up to see the still open doors of the concert hall as people pour in and out. The bouncers stop a few of them to inform them of the doors' closing in five minutes. They made it... They actually made it... Tears of happiness catch in their lashes, sweeped away by a striped cloth.

"Are you still sad? I know you missed the opening act, there's still more..."

"No... These are happy tears... Thank you.. Thank you!"

The clown's laughter reaches the deepest depths their heart. "Anything for a friend! Come see me again if you're ever in any trouble..... Oh! I almost forgot something!"

The clown reaches into their pocket and pulls out a small, plastic badge. They pass it over to their new friend who inspects the smiling rainbow and letters engraved into it.

"Y/n the clown's helper of the day."

"That's a little token I give to the best of my little helpers..." The clown lends in, covering their mouth with one hand as they whisper. "Don't tell the kids - I give one to everybody."

They reach into their bag, grabbing their wallet. The clown quickly stops them.

"It's free, Silly! If you wanna pay me back, just have a good time, okay?"

The clown winks before walking off back to their hall - but not before passing out stickers to the bouncers who thank them for it and the water bottles they brought earlier. The dumbfounded individual they leave behind looks down at their hand - then the open doors of the concert hall. They sheepishly reenter the venue they came from, approaching the first merch with physical discs they see.

"Hello, I'd like to buy a copy of all available seasons you have."

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere #yandere blurb #clown reader #yandere drabble

[roosterforme]

Beer Boy and Sugar: The First Lost Year (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Part of the Lost Years series for Beer Boy and Sugar

Warnings: language, longing, angst (series fits chronologically between Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time)

Banner by @mak-32

Year One

"Bradshaw."

Bradley was pulled out of his comfortable daydream when he heard Natasha Trace call his name. He looked over at the only friend he'd managed to make since he moved to Rhode Island for flight training five months ago. It turns out, nobody much wants to talk to you when you're a bit of a miserable prick. 

"Yeah?"

She nodded back toward the hangar and said, "Captain Price wants us to use the simulator."

"Right," he replied softly. Once she was gone again, he turned to look out at the rough Atlantic Ocean and shivered in the late October air. He was freezing cold. He was always fucking freezing cold here. He missed Virginia. He missed being warm in his bed in his fraternity house. He missed you.

"No," he whispered, closing his eyes and focusing on some deep breathing. "No. You can't." Every thought of you was painful, and he needed to get past this. He kept promising himself that one day, he would wake up and be on the other side of this ache, but he was such a damn liar. Deep inside, he knew better. 

How was it supposed to stop hurting when all he could think about was you, equally cold in Chicago, wrapped up in his Grateful Dead shirt and listening to their songs? It had already snowed there; he checked the weather frequently. He memorized the University of Chicago campus map and thought about where you might be, always afraid you were in a library study room. With someone else. Because the only thing worse than thinking about you cold and alone was thinking about you moving on with someone new. But you were perfect. Bradley's perfect Sugar. Of course you didn't need to be with him to be happy. 

Eventually he turned toward the hangar and walked through the frigid wind. He completed the simulation perfectly in almost no time. Trace was every bit as good as he was, and Bradley silently rejoiced whenever they were paired together. She was serious but not too serious. She was smart but never cocky about it. She didn't waste a lot of time talking if she had nothing to say. She reminded him a lot of you. 

He wasn't interested in her as anything more than the friend he desperately needed right now, but it was hard to open up to someone new when he could only think about one thing. There were a handful of really attractive women here, but Bradley found himself unable to focus on them. Besides, he finally understood that quality always beats quantity. You started teaching him that lesson as soon as he felt the urge to paint his bedroom door white. 

He avoided the tables full of students in the cafeteria, picking one off to the side instead. He figured if he gave the appearance that he didn't want anyone around, then they would leave him alone. He was only mostly successful.

"Can I join you?" 

When he looked up at Trace's dark brown eyes, he nodded and pulled his tray a little closer to him so she could sit on the other side of the table. "Yeah, sure."

She ate half of her food before she said anything. "Hey, thanks for not being creepy."

He looked at her calm face in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged and said, "Some of the other guys are a little creepy towards me, Hayes, O'Malley and Butler. They think it's funny to mess with the girls."

"Seriously?" Bradley asked, setting his fork down. "Which guys?" He wished he didn't feel the sudden urge to break something; he'd been able to manage this feeling for a long time, only letting it surface when he wanted to pound Jeff to bits for touching you. It would probably feel good right now if he let this emotion take over for a little bit.

"Don't worry about it," Trace replied easily. "It's nothing I can't handle. I just don't like eating alone if I can help it, because then they come over."

Bradley nodded, picking up his fork again. If there was anything you wouldn't like, it would be Bradley losing his place in the Navy because he couldn't manage to stay out of a fistfight. "You can eat with me whenever you want."

Her muttered, "Thanks," was so soft, he barely heard it. He wanted to tell her not to thank him, but the silence between them felt pretty nice. She took a few more bites before she asked, "So what's your deal, Bradshaw? You're awfully quiet for someone who can pass all of the exams on the first try and makes the simulators look easy."

He laughed. "I could say the same about you."

"I guess," she replied, "but I'm always the one initiating conversation with you, not the other way around. It's a girl, isn't it? You miss your girlfriend?"

She didn't ask it unkindly, but it felt like a slap to his face. He swallowed hard, once again wondering why this hurt so fucking bad after five goddamn months. But he'd never tried to actually talk about you with anyone else. Maybe it wouldn't be as hard as he thought it would. 

He cleared his throat and looked down at his tray. "There used to be a girl. I think maybe she thought she was doing me a favor when she dumped me. Or maybe she was just trying to protect herself. And I can respect that."

"Ouch," came Natasha's soft voice, and Bradley had almost forgotten he wasn't alone. "You were in love with her." 

It wasn't phrased as a question, and once again Bradley felt like she physically hit him. He had never admitted it out loud before right now. "Yeah. I was in love with her." He set his fork down one last time before he met her eyes. "I'm still in love with her."

Later that night, he cried himself to sleep, dying to hear you call him Beer Boy and push your fingers through his hair one last time. Dying to ask you why he couldn't have two dreams.

---------------------

You were twenty-two years old. You lived in one of the most exciting cities in the country. And you were single. But you never really felt like going out when the other graduate students invited you. Every time you did go, you ended up at a bar that was way too loud or a frat house that was way too uncomfortable. Nobody knew how to play beer pong correctly, and every guy was wearing a backwards cap.

It made your heart ache.

"Hey." 

You looked up from your computer to see Jared staring at you with a smile on his face and his hat spun backwards on his head. "Alex and I are going to one of the library study rooms and then out to get a beer. You coming?"

Both of those things sounded amazing, actually. But not with him or Alex. Not with anybody at this school or in this city or even in the central time zone. You shook your head. "Thanks, but not tonight. Maybe next week?"

Jared looked dejected. "Aww, come on. You're too pretty to be sitting here working alone." He probably though he was being charming, but he was nowhere close to the level of sweetness you were used to.

You sighed softly and shook your head again. "Thanks but.... maybe next week."

When he finally left, you tried to return your attention to what you had been working on. There was no shortage of classwork or research to keep you busy seven days a week here, and that was a very good thing. Because it was days like this one where you started to think about Bradley and you couldn't stop. As soon as you let the memories creep in, you were done. 

You closed your computer and sucked in a ragged breath. Through the blurry tears filling your eyes, you pulled up the bottom of your hoodie and ran your fingers along the soft, tie dyed cotton of the shirt you were wearing underneath. If you closed your eyes and thought about Virginia, you could almost believe the shirt still smelled like him. You could almost hear him sing what had become your favorite song.  

"Shit," you muttered, standing and shoving your computer into your backpack. You would finish working from your dorm room. You just needed to get out of here right now. 

The icy cold air smacked you in the face as soon as you walked outside. Apparently it started snowing in October here. It had been snowing steadily for days. You missed Virginia. You missed the stupid Beta house. You missed the way Bradley felt like your own personal furnace when he cuddled with you. Sometimes you thought you'd made the worst decision of your life.

The urge to cave and call him as soon as you got to your room and cranked up the heater was so intense. Then you remembered that you broke his heart and your own with a handful of sentences and the admission that you loved him. Well, you still loved him, but he almost certainly hated you. And that was fine. That was completely okay as long as he was focused on keeping himself safe instead of thinking about a long distance relationship. He had a dream bigger than you, and he deserved to live it out.

You curled up in a ball on your bed and listened to Easy to Love You by The Grateful Dead exactly eleven times in a row while you cried. You did the math in your head; that was just over forty minutes of crying. Last week when you broke down, it was closer to an hour. Maybe things were on the upswing now. Maybe the pain would start to fade. It had already been more than five months since you left his room while he sat on the edge of his bed, agony written on his face. 

"Why?" you asked yourself angrily, certain nobody else would ever make you feel as good as he had for the handful of months you'd spent together. He taught you a lot about yourself, and now you understood the importance of giving someone a second chance. How crucial it was to look past the surface. 

You buried your nose in the fabric of the colorful shirt, turned the song on one more time, and fell asleep with unshed tears and a tightness in your chest. When you woke up the next day, you found more snow on the ground when you put on your boots and jacket and headed outside. You remembered exactly where to go, because you'd seen it so many times before. You headed for the tattoo parlor near campus with a pocketful of cash and the hope that this would make you feel better and not worse.

Once you were lounging back with the Grateful Dead shirt pulled up, you pointed to your math tattoo. "I want it just below this one. It's a specific song lyric. And I want it in this font."

The tattoo artist looked at your skin and then the words you'd written out before checking the font you were pointing to in his binder which happened to look a bit like Bradley's tidy script. 

"The Dead," he said with a smile. "I dig it. I can do it for a hundred bucks."

You nodded and handed him the cash, and just a few minutes later, he got to work. If he thought you were crying softly because of the pain from the needle digging into your flesh over and over again, then that was fine with you.

-----------------------------

I'm fine. We are all fine. Year two is up next.

PART 2

@beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @sorchathered @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @shanimallina87 @sylviebell @wkndwlff @horseslovers2016 @sadpetalsstuff @schoollover @jessicab1991 @lex-winchester @bellaireland1981 @sagittarius-flowerchild @marvelouslyme96 @trickphotography2 @goldenseresinretriever @rascallyrascalreads @auroracaroline @nerdgirljen @redbarn1995 @theweekndhistorybook @moon42flight @eli2447 @lyn-js @na-ta-sh-aa @mygyn @je-suis-prest-rachel @kcloveswrestling @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @callsign-magnolia @eternalsams @lynnestra44 @shinzowosasageyoooo @tgmreader @princessofglitterland @backupbrii @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @averyhotchner @hookslove1592 @schoollover @callsigns-haze

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #beer boy and sugar strike again

[twstreverie]

sun and moon — 🌙 ☀️

sun/moon like s/o (kalim, jamil, rook, malleus) 🫶🏼

this idea kinda just happened, also because “o sol e a lua” is stuck in my head… I might do others with this <3

requests are open!

kalim al-asim

he adores you, to simply put it. he doesn’t mind one bit that you have more of an introverted nature — he balances that out. even if you don’t have the energy to go to one of his dorms feasts and parties he wouldn’t care. kalim is content with just you and him if that’s what you really wanted. he’ll take you on a carpet ride any night!

it’s a little funny to watch, but he’s sometimes you’re voice — since you’re quieter or don’t speak up and talk loud as much. you’ll hear him at least once or twice a day being like “oh they said—!”

the victories and celebrations that go off in his mind during the earlier parts of your relationship like when you started to laugh loudly around him or even when he hears you excitedly sharing something you like to him. he loves it all!

jamil viper

he hates to admit it but you sometimes make him feel so flustered and overwhelmed (in the best way) when it comes to your loud boasting of how much you love him or that instant “hey!!!” he hears the moment you see him. he has to pull down his hood a little sometimes jamil cant fight the warmth spreading on his cheeks. he’ll sigh and try telling you there’s no need for the energy (right in the middle of the school hallways ahaha) but does he actually want you to stop?

jamil tends to just let you ramble a lot, he’s a silent listener, giving once in a while a thought or two. not that he’s ignoring you he just doesn’t have the energy to talk sometimes — he’s content just doing work or even cooking and just listening to you go on.

has caught multiple times both overhearing and being told by others of your praise and talking highly of him — jamil was caught totally off guard when he had heard the first time. however by this point he isn’t surprised at all. I would be lying though if I said there wasn’t a smug grin after hearing.

rook hunt

rook is obsessed with you. sorry but he will be telling you an earful of his swooning and how much he is simply enamored by you. though you have no magic he claims that you’ve bewitched him.

I can just imagine you could just be sitting there reading and eating something during lunch silently. you could be doing basically nothing and look over and see rook with his head on his hand looking at you with heart eyes.

though he does most of the talking at times, he doesn’t mind. but I have to say at first it might’ve been a bit overwhelming with his nature for someone like you. at the same time, he can be very quiet when he wants to be, so you get both haha. he’ll even do stuff like write you letters and poetry (they’ve gotten pretty long), flowers, and from what I believe he is artistic you better believe he paints and draws you. you’re his muse.

malleus draconia

he utterly loves your affection, though he was initially surprised by your boldness but he could only lightly chuckle at you and your behavior. he indulges it anyway, he wants you to do this stuff. sebek definitely had a hard time having to deal with seeing you happily hug and kiss him whenever — even touching his horns! (he could’ve passed OUT)

not gonna lie malleus wants your attention and stuff anyway so like this is perfect for him — that both before your relationship and now that you’re so eager to be with him and such. because trust me, you’re his first and only, he just wants to spend his time with you. he is simply content basking in it, obviously.

he kinda just lets you drag him wherever and do what you want, he’ll follow you. but he would love something more quiet at times to, like during your nightly strolls when he sees you trying to follow and see some pretty creature or even small fairies you see time to time.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #kalim x reader #jamil x reader #rook x reader #malleus x reader #kalim al asim #jamil viper #rook hunt #malleus draconia #twst headcanons

[lenaeclipse777]

chemtrails over the country club ☆ sebastian sallow x f!reader

summary: you and sebastian have always understood each other better than anyone else.

a/n: based on chemtrails over the country club by lana del rey!

warnings: none i think, just a lot of fluff + you and seb have lots of unresolved trauma, mc is a flirt

i’m on the run, with you my sweet love, there’s nothing wrong contemplating god, under the chemtrails over the country club

running through the highlands to fight goblins with sebastian shouldn’t have you feeling this exhilarated. fighting ranrok’s loyalists fills you both with a sense of purpose. yours being the final end goal of saving the wizarding world from another war, and sebastian’s being to get his revenge for anne.

no, fighting loyalists or poachers with anyone else didn’t excite you as much as it did with sebastian, because there was so much more to it for both of you. sebastian had introduced you to the world of duelling, and had practiced with you in the undercroft, poring over books and different wand movements.

“you coming y/n?” sebastian was standing a few feet ahead of you, and pulled you out of your thoughts as he questioned you.

his brown hair was tousled from the wind and the running, and his freckled cheeks were slightly pink. he looked like an angel, and you never wanted to look away.

“right behind you seb, you know your legs are longer than mine.” you smiled at him and jogged to catch up with him.

“race you to the next encampment love!”

you laughed as he started running ahead of you, shaking your head at his childish antics. yes, running with sebastian was definitely better than with anyone else.

meet you for coffee, at the elementary school, we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool

the summer after you defeated ranrok, sebastian had disappeared to his (now empty) cottage in feldcroft. only you and ominis knew he was there, and that he had been doing yard work around the village all summer to make some money. ominis was still wary of being his friend, but you couldn’t just stay away. his sad face hadn’t left your mind since you had left hogwarts on the last day of term, and it was getting impossible to not run to him.

you had exchanged a few letters throughout july, just checking up on each other, making sure the other was staying out of trouble and getting enough to eat. you were staying in a room at the three broomsticks, courtesy of sirona ryan, and working a few days a week.

as august approached, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from him, so one day you told sirona that you were taking a week off to go stay with him. she was more than okay with it, and insisted you bring along some butterbeer to share.

sending him a short letter via owl, you packed your bag and took the nearest floo flame to feldcroft.

when you arrived in feldcroft, it didn’t take you long to spot him, as he was outside of his house chopping fire wood. your breath hitched as you looked at him, slightly sweaty, and definitely more muscular. his freckles were painted across his skin even more prominent with a summer tan.

“sebastian!” you called out to him, lugging your trunk with you as you crossed the path to his house.

his head shot up when he heard your voice, and the most genuine smile you had seen since the catacombs spread across his face.

he dropped his axe and ran to you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in your neck.

“i missed you so much.” his voice was thick, and you pulled away from him to cup his face in your hands.

“i missed you too sebastian, more than you know.” his arms didn’t leave your waist as he smiled down at you. after staring at each other for a few more seconds, he snapped out of his gaze and came to his senses.

“here let me get your trunk for you. i’ll bring it into the house and we can catch up.” he lifted your heavy trunk onto his shoulder with ease, and you had to restrain yourself from drooling at his display of strength.

once you had unpacked your things, you and sebastian sat down with your butterbeer from sirona.

“tell me everything you’ve been doing this past month seb, i’ve been so busy working at the three broomsticks i barely have time to write to anybody!”

so the night went on as you both talked and shared quiet laughs in the orange light of the sallow cottage, happy to be back in each others presence again.

i’m not bored or unhappy, i’m still so strange and wild, you’re in the wind, i’m in the water, nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter, watching the chemtrails over the country club

4 days had passed since you had arrived at the sallow cottage, and with each passing day, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the amount of feelings you had for the boy. you both had thrown around a fair few compliments and flirtatious remarks at each other throughout the week, and you decided that you could do this with him for the rest of your life. making breakfast together in the kitchen, walks around the trails near the village, and rolling around in the flowery meadows, pointing out different clouds and what they looked like.

it was all getting very domestic, and you were going to go crazy if by the end of the week you were still just friends.

today is the day you decided. the shameless flirting was already at an all time high, and you decided that today you were going to kick it up a notch.

sitting at a small table in the front yard of the house, you were watching him pull weeds out of the garden, his white shirt sleeves rolled up showing off his strong forearms.

“hey sebastian?”

he turned to look at you, wiping a few beads of sweat of his forehead. “yes love?”

“nothing, i just think you look very handsome today.” it was bold- you knew that, but you were past the point of caring. you knew no one else could ever make you feel how he made you feel.

he was blushing when you looked at him, a small smile on his face. he brushed his hands on his trousers and came to sit down beside you at the small table.

“you think so? because i think i’m covered in dirt and sweat and desperately need a bath.” he chuckled and his thigh brushed yours under the table.

“need any help with that?” you flirted, as you rested your hand on your cheek and leaned up to look at him through your lashes.

the flush on his face deepens, and he has to look away from your gaze or he just might explode.

“you are a terrible flirt, do you know that?” his voice is low but his eyes are swimming with a softness he saved only for you. “this whole week, i don’t think i’ve ever been more flustered.”

before you can open your mouth to retort, sebastian leans down and captures your lips with his. it’s soft and hesitant, and your shocked at first, but quickly throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back deeply. the kiss is needy and desperate, something that you both know should have happened a long time ago.

when you both pulled away for a breath, sebastian’s hand stayed in your hair at the back of your neck, and his forehead was pressed against yours.

“i’ve wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.” he breathed.

“how long?” you asked him breathlessly, as you fought the urge to just kiss him again as much as you could.

“honestly? since you bested me in that duel at the beginning of the year. and pretty much any other time we were alone after that.”

“so you’re telling me we could’ve been doing that this whole time!?” you joked and he laughed heartily.

“we have all the time in the world to make up for it now love, don’t you worry.”

you gave him a loving smile, and leaned up to give him a soft peck on the lips. he smiled at you as your hand came up to rest on his muscular chest.

“why don’t we go run you a bath, and you can show me just how much you’ve wanted to do to me since that duel..”

sebastian didn’t need to be told twice as he grabbed your hand and all but dragged you into the house, shutting the door behind him quickly as possible.

the sound of your laughter filled the house as you both ran to get the bathing supplies.

yes, you both may have some unresolved issues, but as long as you were together, you knew you could get through it.

it’s never too late, baby, so don’t give up… under the chemtrails over the country club

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fluff #hogwarts legacy

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part nine

authors note: ya'll had me rolling in the comments on the last update. calling this man big dick joe. lololol. i hope this one is okay. i'm not very good at writing those scenes, but i tried!! angst is def more my bread and butter.

song inspo: "with me" by destiny's child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: language, suggestive themes, smut

words: 8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“You look so damn good. If you don’t get ate out tonight, come back home early, and I’ll do the honors.”

It’s a miracle that you’re able to keep a straight face as Alexis does the finishing touches on your makeup. “Well, that’s not gonna happen, period, because this is just a date.”

Alexis pauses and gives you a look. “I know you’ve been out of the game for a while, but you do know what typically happens on dates, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you retort, “Lex, not everyone fucks on the first date.”

She sucks her teeth and swaps out the eyeliner for mascara. “Bitch, this is not a first date. He’s painted your walls too many times for you to say anything between ya’ll is a first.” 

As much as you hate it, she has somewhat of a point. You and Joe have checked so many boxes already that it does seem kinda silly to call this a first date. But, in many ways, it is. He’s never before asked you to go anywhere outside of the couple of times he invited you to his show, since you were already in town because he'd flown you out. 

But never anything beyond that. 

So, in that way, it is a first date.

And maybe that’s why you’re nervous. It’s a first too. Not a lot of things make you nervous. Even when you cheered, there was some level of anxiety before competitions, but even that was minimal compared to some of the panicked expressions you’d see on your teammates faces. When it comes to Callie, there are definitely a lot of things that make you nervous, but that’s just regular parental anxiety. 

So this butterflies shit is unfamiliar and annoying. 

It’s also just Joe. You know him, you know him better than almost anyone else in your life outside of Mariah and Callie. 

Thinking of Mariah, you grab your phone and hit the side button to see if you have any notifications. Instead, you’re just met with Callie’s smiling face.

Alexis sees this and comments casually, “still nothing?”

You don’t respond, because it’s not necessary. She already knows the answer. 

“Well, whatever she’s got going on, let her deal with it the way she wants,” Alexis advises, grabbing the powder brush to brush off some excessive powder on your cheeks. “You’ve got too many good things going on in your life for you to be stressed out over her fake ass.” 

She’s not entirely wrong. There’s definitely not a shortage of topics you still need to sort through, many of which should take precedent over you wondering what the hell is going on with your best friend since kindergarten. Still, it’s hard for you not to worry about her and feel confused about what’s shifted between the two of you.

You haven’t heard from her since you text her when Callie was in the hospital, and she replied back that she was praying for you and Callie and asked if you wanted her to come to the hospital. You thanked her but let her know that Joe was with you, so you were okay.

You haven’t heard from her since then. 

It’s not that difficult to put two and two together. There’s something about Joe that makes Mariah stay away and keep her distance. You just can’t figure out why.

“Okay, enough of your overthinking. Time to see my masterpiece.” She gloats and claps her hand, removing the towel she’d put around your chest area to prevent anything from spilling on your outfit. Alexis sighs, “you seriously look amazing, Y/N.”

Standing and stretching your back, you walk over to the full body mirror against the opposite wall of your bedroom. “Oh….”

The last time you actually dressed up was at the town’s annual Christmas party two years back. You’d always gone growing up and wanted Callie to experience it for herself, even though Callie ended up utterly disinterested, hence that being your last appearance. It was hard to justify dragging her to something she was too young to enjoy and even understand. 

So, seeing yourself done up like this is a shock. Alexis absolutely slayed your makeup, perfect wingliner and all. The white, ruched, off shoulder dress is form-fitting, hugging every curve you’ve had since a teenager that's only improved since having Callie. It’s a beautiful contrast against your melanin. You’ve always thought white on black women looked so classy. 

Your curls are styled and pinned into an almost pineapple atop your head. The jewelry is simple and basic: necklace and hoops. No bracelet considering the dress is long-sleeved.

All of this creates the absolutely stunning reflection staring back at you. It brings a smile to your face. You’d forgotten how nice it feels to actually get done up.

Alexis appears in the mirror and rests her chin on your shoulder, smiling broadly. “Told you. Boss bitch.”

Matching her smile, you turn to hug her. You really couldn’t have done this without her, even her offering to take Callie for the night as it was a nighttime date, and you doubted you’d be home before bedtime. “Thank you.” 

“You’re my best friend. You never have to thank me.” She wiggles her brow. “Just give me a rundown of the pounding that’s bound to commence tonight. A video will do as well.”

Your mouth drops open. “Alexis, you—”

“Mommy! I need you.”

You’ve never in your life felt so grateful to be needed by anyone. Maneuvering through the avalanche of clothes that make up most of your bedroom right now, the result of the two of you trying to figure out what the hell you were going to wear, you’re more than happy to saunter over to Callie’s playroom to see what she needs.

“What’s up, sis?”

You see she’s sitting at her little table, surrounded by crayons, markers, colored paper, and other art supplies. Her eyes fall on you with glee as she gasps loudly.

“Mommy, you look so pretty!”

There’s something about a heartfelt compliment from your child that provides such a level of joy.  

“Thank you, baby.” Moving closer to the table, you sit down on the chair opposite her, ignoring how goddamn uncomfortable it is. “What you got for me?”

She shuffles through a couple of pages and lifts one to show you. “Do you think Joe will like this?”

Your eyes study the colorful drawing she’s created against bright yellow—her favorite color—construction paper. It’s the average sun in the corner, green grass, and blue clouds drawing one would expect from a young child, but that’s not what immediately catches your attention. What draws your attention is the fact that there are two people she’s drawn, a heart between the two of them. 

Her and Joe.

Eyes watering, you do your best not to cry. You’re pretty sure everything on your face is waterproof, but you’re not trying to find out right now. Not when Joe should be arriving at your place any minute. “He’s gonna love it, Callie.”

Her face lights up with excitement at your approval. “Yay!” Taking it from you and tucking it underneath some other papers, she offers you another one. “I made this one too!”

You definitely can’t hold back the tears this time around. It’s the same backdrop, outside scenery but with a big house drawn behind the three of you: Callie, Joe, and yourself. With a heart over everyone’s head.

“Callie…..”

Callie, being young, sees your tears and automatically mistakens them for something else. Smile dropping and frown appearing, she moves up from the table and comes to hug you. “Don’t cry, mommy. I can make a new one!”

Wiping at your eyes, you shake your head, accepting her hug. “No, baby. Mommy’s crying because she’s happy, because she loves it.”

Instantly, her smile is back. “Really?”

“It’s beautiful. Is this one for your d—Joe too?”

Christmas can’t come soon enough, because this is at least the third time you’ve almost unintentionally given away Joe’s true identity. And that’s something you swore to him and yourself you’d allow him to reveal to Callie. It’s so hard though when moments like this occur, moments where you just want her to know the man she already loves is the same man who helped bring her into this world. 

She surprises you by shaking her head no. “I wanna put it in my room.” 

Sniffling, you nod, agreeing. “I think that’s a great idea.” 

Callie takes your hand and brings you into her room, the two of you taking a few minutes to decide where her photo should go. Eventually, she decides on right above her bed and you post it up using a thumbtack. 

Alexis walks into the bedroom to see what’s happening and gasps when she sees Callie’s drawing. “Callie, did you draw that? Sweetie, it’s so amazing!”

The compliment makes Callie smile harder as she says, “thank you!”

“We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, kiddo.”

Her eyes light up, premature excitement brewing. “Can we watch Disney movies?”

“Not only can we watch Disney movies, but we can dance and sing with Disney movies.”

Oh Lord. You have a feeling Callie won’t be in bed by 7:30pm, but it’s not worth pushing back on. You’re just grateful she’s agreed to stay around in town long enough for your date to stay with Callie. You know you could always ask your mom, but she’s already helped out so much in the past couple weeks, you figured she could use a break. 

“Yay!” 

You and Alexis work to clean up the disaster that is your room as Callie busies herself in her playroom. Nearly finished, Alexis suddenly shares, “oh, I got something for you!”

Closing up your drawer, you place your hands on your hips. “Lex, you’ve already done so much for—-” you’re silenced by the box she’s suddenly reaching your way. “---me.” A headache is coming, migraine even. “Alexis, seriously?”

“What? It’s obvious ya’ll don’t use condoms.” Moving over to the side of your bed, she slides open the drawer of your nightstand and secures the box of Plan B.

“How many times do I have to say—”

Your 937589th time defending yourself that day is interrupted by the doorbell followed by Callie excitedly yelling “Joe!”

“I’ll get it,” Alexis offers, rushing over to you to give some quick, last minute advice. “You got this okay? It’s Joe. You know him like you know the back of your hand. You’re just hanging out with a muscular, 6’3 wrestler who also happens to be your baby daddy. No pressure.”

“Lex, sometimes you really do suck.”

“No, that’s going to be you tonight.” She laughs, ducking as you toss a decorative pillow in her direction. 

Blowing through your mouth, you attempt a mini pep talk, digging deep for the shitload you had and utilized as cheer captain what feels like so long ago.

“It’s just a date. Just a date.”

That’s the mantra, the ideal that you have to live by, have to pocket and keep with you at all times. 

Just a date. 

Grabbing your purse off the dresser, you slide on your heels and head out to the living room. What you’re met with is both expected and unexpected. Joe is holding Callie who’s clearly catching him up on everything he’s missed since he was last in town, minute by minute play, of course. But, Alexis is in the kitchen surrounded by three separate bouquets of flowers, one of red roses, one yellow, and one pink. 

Joe’s gaze is on you as soon as you enter the space, but your attention is focused on the breathtaking roses. 

“Have I told you he’s my top choice for you?” Alexis asks, explaining and pointing. “The pinks are for me, yellows are for Cal Gal, and the reds are, obviously for you.” A warm smile grows on your face. He’s so damn thoughtful. 

Walking over to him, you cross your arms. “Red roses are my favorites.”

“I remember.” Of course he does. He sweeps his eyes over you, slowly, meticulously. “You look beautiful.”

Bashful would never ever be a word you’d use to describe yourself, but it’s definitely how you feel in this moment. “Thank you.”

He looks good too, but that’s not surprising. Joe always looks good, even in his otherwise basic outfit of dark jeans, long sleeved black fitted shirt, and simple gold chain around his neck. The man could wear an orange jumpsuit, and you’d still want to fuck him silly. 

“Okay, Cal Gal, we better let them get going, so you and I can head out too.”

Alexis' words catch Joe’s attention, as he asks, protectively, “where are you taking her?”

Callie answers, “Auntie Lex and I are gonna have a sleepover at the hotel!”

Joe looks at you, quizzically. “I told her they can just stay here.”

“Just in case,” she winks at Joe and reminds you, quietly. “Nightstand, babes.”

Heading out is as expected. Callie asks once again if she can come with you guys, and Joe promises that the three of you will do something together at a later time. You remind Alexis to not allow Callie to pig out on junk food and go to bed on time, or at least, a decent time. 

Not that it means much. You know she’s gonna do what she wants, because that’s who Alexis is. 

That doesn’t bother you as much as Joe not telling you shit about this date other than that you probably won’t get back until late. Which isn’t much of anything. 

“What about a—”

He glances at you only for a second, then focuses back on the road. “The answer gon’ be the same as it was the last ten times you asked.”

Glaring at him, you cross your arms. “You know I hate surprises.”

“I’m aware.”

“But, you’re surprising me anyway?”

“Sure am.” Sucking your teeth and looking out the window, you cross your arms, turning your body away from him. “Watch the attitude, sweetheart, or I’ll fix it for you at the end of the night.”

His words shouldn’t make your thighs clench together.

“Whatever.” Pulling out your phone, you start to connect it to the car’s bluetooth. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not gonna sit here in silence, but I have nothing to say to you, so we need some music.” You’re certain he’s rolling his eyes but doesn’t say anything. Hardheaded ass. He definitely does speak up though when the iconic opening guitar from Smells Like Teen Spirit fills the SUV. 

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t want to hear it. You leave me and my musical tastes alone.”

It seems like a rite of passage for every preteen or teenager to have some type of emo phase where they blast and rock out to Paramore like it’s a religious experience. Emphasis on phase. You never really grew out of yours. A love for rock music was something that stemmed from your love of paramore and morphed to the overall genre in general over the years. It was also something you and Alexis had in common, attending Warped your junior year of college. Joe always roasted you for this, because it was so unexpected.

You just liked your Breaking Benjamin just as much as you liked your Megan Thee Stallion.

“You know Callie likes it too,” you inform. One of your personal goals in life is to pass on your eclectic taste in music to your mini me. The appropriate music, of course. You never listen to anything provocative around her, even the clean versions. 

“You got her listening to this shit, too?”

Challenging him, you counter. “Would you rather her listen to Pound Town?” He shakes his head, running his hand over his beard. “That’s what I thought.”

Joe doesn’t ask you anything else, just lets you rock out to your music to help you avoid asking him the same damn question over and over again. But, you definitely do have questions that you’re absolutely asking when you see where he’s taken you. “Why the hell are we at the airport?” The bastard doesn’t say anything, and you start to repeat your question when he pulls around and you see it. 

“Joe, is that a fucking jet? You have a jet? We’re getting on a jet?” The questions keep rolling out as you find yourself unable to rip your eyes away from it. You’ve been on a plane before, but never a private jet. 

“No, we’re going to stare at it.” 

Your mind is a million and one places. Just what does this man have planned?

Jumping, you realize he’s not only parked, exited the vehicle, but is standing at your side of the car, door open. “Come on.” 

Angrily unbuckling your seatbelt, you jump out the car and continue to press him for answers. 

“Don’t get smart with me when I’m panicking. An actual jet? Where the hell are you taking us? Siberia?” He doesn’t say anything, just moves closer to you and places a hand behind your neck. 

“Do you trust me?”

You’re not sure if you’ve ever actually asked yourself that question, but interestingly enough, the answer is a no-brainer. 

“Of course.”

“Then shut up and come on.”

________

“We could have just gone to a local restaurant.”

Joe finally caved a bit and informed you that he was taking you to a restaurant out of town but within the same state. That was it. But, it was something, and it made you feel a little bit better about sitting here with him on a jet without a clue as to what’s going on.

“Why? So our waiter can be your ex-fiance?” You roll your eyes and decide against telling him the best restaurant in town is owned by your high school coach’s brother. “I’m tired of sharing you.” His strong arms are around you as he nuzzles his face into your neck. Because of course you’re sitting on his lap, the only “seat” he allowed you to use. “Want you to myself….”

Hands on his forearms, your eyes shut as you try to allow yourself to enjoy this. To enjoy him. He’s obviously gone to great lengths to make tonight special for the both of you, so the least you can do is be appreciative and try to enjoy the ride. A small smile on your lip, you taunt, ���Callie might have something else to say about that.”

Just the mention of his daughter brings a smile to Joe’s face and yours too. Seeing how much he loves her gives you such peace and satisfaction. “What does she want for Christmas, by the way?”

Scoffing, you answer, smartly, “well, considering you’ve already bought her half of Toys-r-Us inventory, I’m not sure if there’s anything left for her to want.”

He’s unconvinced. “There has to be something. What did you get her?”

“Just random stuff, dolls, more art supplies.” To be honest, you’ve been so busy with everything else that much of your Christmas shopping still hasn’t happened. A rarity since you’re usually meticulous with these things, needing to know what paycheck they’re going to come out of, really. “I mean, the big thing is obviously Disney. That’s on every list: Christmas, birthday, Easter, Chinese new year.”

“Disney world?” He clarifies.

Nodding, you explain, “yup, but of course, because she’s our kid and too smart for her own good, she learned about the different parts like animal kingdom, epcot, and now she wants to see them all.” You’ll never forget the day she came running into your room, jumping on your bed, screaming, “there’s more, mommy! Lots more!”

“I’ve tried to explain I have to save for that, especially since I would want to take my mom with me, but she’s so young, she doesn’t understand it's either Disney, or we have a place to live.” Truth be told, you’ve always wanted to go to Disney too. So did your grandma. And the plan was to go for your high school graduation. Obviously….that never happened.

Your grandma passed away before you all had the chance. 

“I’ll take her. I’ll take all of you.” 

Sitting up, your brows furrow as you clarify, “shit, no. Joe, I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to ask you—”

“I know you weren’t. You’re too stubborn for that.” He’s not wrong, his finger moving up and down your side as he continues. “She wants to go. I’m sure you do too and your mom. I can make it happen, so let me make it happen.”

You hear what he’s saying, you really do, but considering you’ve sat down and cranked out the numbers for what this would cost, just for one person, it makes you almost nauseous to think how much he’d have to fork up.

Joe’s exceptionally well at reading you, speaking again. “I’m gonna say something, and I know you’re gonna push back, because like I said,  you’re stubborn as hell, but I’m gonna say it anyway because that don’t change shit.”

You eye him, skeptically. “I’m already annoyed,”

“Money is something you never have to worry about, especially if it’s for Callie.” You open your mouth to protest, but he lifts his hand to silence you. “I’ve got you, and I’ve got her. Whether you want me to or not.”

It’s such a strange shift, traveling from this mindset where you are the sole financial provider for your child to having a partner who has more money than he knows what to do with and doesn’t mind spending it to make your child happy. To make you happy. 

“Let me do something for my daughter.”

He’s got you there, even if he’s done so much already. You’ve already denied him so much more. Why add to the list? “Okay.” There’s no support for an argument. Who are you to try to get in the way of a father fulfilling his daughter’s lifelong dream? Sure, you could probably make it happen eventually, but time waits for no one. And you can’t really fault Joe. He just wants to do something nice for her daughter. “But….but not Christmas. Her birthday, maybe?”

This seems to work for him as well as he nods in agreement, probably thinking of the benefit to having more time to arrange being away from work.

Joe does an excellent job distracting you for the rest of the ride, which ends up being relatively short, definitely not as long as you expected. Granted, nothing so far has been what you expected, especially when a driver picks you up from the airport and transports you to this top secret location.

Hand in his, Joe leads you inside the building that’s revealed to be a restaurant of some sort. Gracefully decorated and almost entirely empty. 

Touched, you ask in a soft voice, “you rented out a restaurant for us?” 

He glides his thumb over your knuckles and brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. “Not exactly.” 

“Joe, is that you?” 

A voice calls out, and he answers back with a yes.

Confused, you watch an older black woman with salt and pepper hair emerge from the back of the restaurant, wearing one of the friendliest smiles you’ve ever seen. You study her, wondering why she looks so familiar. 

“There you are,” she greets, clapping her hands on her apron. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

“Sorry, we’re late,” he apologies and releases your hand to bend down and hug this woman. Separating, he looks at you, introducing, “Joyce, this is Y/N.” Taking your hand again, he explains, “baby, this is—”

“Joyce Green,” you finish for him. “Oh my goodness, my mom and I watch your show.” 

Joyce and Dennis Green.

Known as the culinary king and queen throughout your state. They have a chain of restaurants that stretch over the south, a successful cookware line, and television show that’s been atop the charts for years. Arguably, the most successful, African-American couple in this part of the culinary world. 

Suddenly a bit starstruck, you offer your hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She looks at you and waves off your offer. “Baby, I’m a hugger.” Laughing, you accept her warm hug as she pulls back and assesses you. “You just a pretty little thing, ain’t you?” She compliments, and you’ve never felt so validated in your life. There’s just something about compliments from older black women that heal the soul. Her eyes shift to Joe. “And you….my Lord, he took his time with this one.”

Biting your lip, you agree, “sure did.” 

Joe chuckles and says, “thank you for agreeing to this again.” 

“Of course. My grandbaby still talks about your make-a-wish visit. It’s our honor to have you here.” You say nothing but realize this is how he knows them, how he arranged for whatever this is. She claps her hands together and asks, “now what would you say is your level of experience with cooking?”

It’s directed to both of you, but you answer first, “I can cook a little bit.”

Joe looks at you, brow raised before telling Joyce. “That’s not what her mom or our daughter says.”

“Ya’ll have a baby?” Her eyes light up. “Could I see a picture? If you don’t mind, that is.” Joe shakes his head and pulls out his phone, unlocking the screen which reveals not only a picture of Callie, but you as well, the two of you smiling together. 

She gasps. “Oh, she’s beautiful.” She looks between the both of you. “Perfect combination, but she has your smile.”

“Thank you.” Anyone saying anything nice about your Callie always lands a genuine grin on your face. “It’s the dimples,” you add.

“Joyce, are you in there talking a hole in them people’s heads?” Another voice enters the room, and you see an older black man also wearing an apron around them. Dennis. This is Dennis.

Joyce sucks her teeth. “Oh hush, you old fool.” She beckons him over, and he shares a quick hug with Joe before her eyes rest on you. Joyce introduces, “this is his girlfriend. Ain’t she pretty?”

“Sure is,” Dennis agrees, shaking your hand. “Pleasure to meet you, young lady.”

Your focus is partially on the conversation at hand but also on how she introduced you. 

Girlfriend. 

You’ve never once considered yourself that to Joe, even in being with him for three years. It always felt wrong and invalid. Because of his wife.

But, she’s out of the picture now.

What reason is there for there not to be a label between the two of you?

Shaking your head, you try to return to the present. 

This is ending up being so much more than just a date.

________

“How long have ya’ll been together?” 

You’re in the midst of mincing garlic when Joyce asks her question. 

This wasn’t just a dinner date. It was a private cooking lesson with thee Joyce and Dennis Green. Not many things made you giddy, but this was definitely one of them. 

Thinking on her question, you realize it’s something you’ve never thought about and thus have no idea how to answer. Because just how does one quantify your relationship? Can you even count the three years you were actually together when he was legally married to someone else? 

Joe, conversely, has no difficulty answering.

“Almost eight years.”

Joyce glances at your left hand. “How much time you need to make up your mind, young man?”

“Oh, Joyce, leave them kids alone,” Dennis chides, carefully chopping up the onions. “Let em’ do what they want.”

“I’m just saying, you already have a child together,” she continues, asking, “What’s stopping you from taking the next step?”

“Uhhh, we, we’ve had some ups and downs,” you answer, hoping the change in tone will indicate this is a sensitive subject.

“I see, well….” You can tell she’s trying to carefully choose her words, and you’re grateful for that thoughtfulness and respect. “All things considered, you seem to have found your way back to one another, so that has to mean something.”

Her words resonate deeply. She’s right. Yes, obviously Callie will always bound you to Joe in some sort of capacity, but countless people co–parent without being together. However, that doesn't seem to be the case with the two of you, something tethers you together. 

And it’s not just the child you share together.

The four of you work together to prepare your meal with Joyce and Dennis having to be extra patient with you, because Joe of all trades over there excels without the need of much help. It’s annoying how he’s just naturally good at so many things. 

At one point, Joyce gently whispers to you, “some people just don’t got it, baby, and you don’t. That’s okay.”

Of course, Joe hears this, and you have to stop yourself from flipping him off. Instead, you settle for mouthing asshole.

The entire process takes about an hour, and when the meals are finished, you’re surprised to find that Joyce and Dennis move to a separate room to eat. It’s not something that entirely bothers you though. You enjoy your alone time with Joe. And it allows you the space to briefly FaceTime Callie in the middle of your meal to tell her goodnight, an absolute must. 

Not even just for you anymore, but Joe too. 

She has to see and speak to the both of you before she can fall asleep.

You can’t wait for her to find out the truth. 

Stealing off Joe’s plate, you quickly realize that while your food came out fine, his is delicious. It’s why you decide to seat yourself on his lap instead of your chair so you’re not constantly reaching over the table. 

“You done messed up your food, and now you wanna come after mine?” Ignoring him, you bring a forkful to your mouth, moaning instantly. 

Covering your mouth as you finish chewing, you exclaim, “it’s so good.”

He chuckles, hand on the small of your back. “I see I’m the one who’s gonna have to do the cooking for us.”

“Well, according to you and everyone else, I can’t cook, so—”

“You can’t, but that’s okay. I hoped this would help, but you may be beyond help—” He laughs as you shove on his chest.

“You’re such an ass….” Gaze softening, you bring your hand to his face, gripping his beard. “Thank you for this. It’s incredibly sweet.”

And you mean that. Joe didn’t have to do this, didn’t have to do any of it. But, this is just who he is, a kind, sweet, thoughtful man. It’s what makes him such an amazing father. 

An amazing partner.

He kisses your palm. “You’re welcome….”

Once the food is finished, you two spend the rest of the time just talking, laughing, enjoying each other. You could never get tired of being around this man. His energy is so warm and welcoming. You’re starting to relate more and more with Callie’s difficulty every time he leaves. This night is too short, but you wonder if you could ever have enough time to be with him.

As the night draws to a close, you two reunite with Joyce and Dennis to thank them for a wonderful evening. However, it’s the closing remarks that really sit with you. When Dennis pulls back from his hug, he whispers to you, “young lady, I’ve lived a long life, so trust me when I tell you this.” You watch him, listening intently. “A man doesn’t look at a woman the way Joe looks at you unless he’s in love.” 

Your breath catches in the back of your throat. That’s….definitely not what you expected him to say. And Joyce is no different. She holds onto you a little longer in the hug, and you’re grateful. She reminds you so much of your grandmother. 

“A little piece of advice from an old lady?” It’s almost impossible to prepare for whatever is about to leave her mouth, your mind still trying to sit on Dennis' words. “You don’t lose love by sending it away” A beat. “All you’re doing is making it grow stronger.” 

________

The rides home are more quiet than the journey there, and that’s because you’re trying to balance this heavy battle between your head and your heart. 

Your mind is all over the place. You’ve felt so conflicted since opening the door for Joe for the first time in almost five years. And you don’t regret it, far from it. Callie’s father is in her life. She has that relationship, that love with him. 

That’s all you wanted, all you expected. 

You didn’t expect for your feelings for him to resurface or his for you to be as strong as they clearly are. 

It’s such a suffocating, overwhelming experience. 

And at the same time, everything you’ve ever wanted. 

He is everything you’ve ever wanted. 

Walking into your apartment, Joe locks the door behind the two of you, always wanting to make sure you’re straight before he leaves. As he always does. 

He brings his hands to your face, concerned, asking, “what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Your eyes close, hand to his chest. 

This is too hard, too painful, too difficult. 

You can’t do it anymore.

“Fuck it.”

In a matter of seconds, your lips are on his and his hands are all over your body. It’s explosive, the both of you battling for dominance, Joe’s tongue circling around yours. You moan into his mouth, and he hikes you up on his waist. 

"Are you sure?" He breathes against your mouth and you nod fervently.

Come what may, you'll deal with it then. You need this. Need him

Gaining your consent, he skillfully guides you to your bedroom only breaking the kiss when he places you on the floor in front of the bed. “Take off your clothes.” 

His tone is authoritative, demanding, but even if it wasn't, it's not like he needs to ask twice. You squeeze yourself out of your dress, tossing it to the side. As the top was padded and shoulders out, you didn't bother with a bra. And before you can hook your fingers around your underwear to discard them, Joe tosses you on the bed, hovering over you.

He lifts his shirt over his head, and you chew on your bottom lip. This man is too fine. His strength has always been so sexy to you. As a woman on the thicker side, you’ve always needed a man who could handle you in the sheets. And Joe was more than adept in that area. 

He stares at you like you're the most precious thing he's ever had the privilege to lay his eyes on. Your stomach flutters. No ones ever been able to make you feel things like Joe can.

Its such a welcomed experience, one you've missed deeply.

“God, you’re beautiful….” 

His big hands travel your body, but it’s when he bites down on the strap of your panties and glides them down your legs that your back arches off the bed. You're already so wet, dampness coating the inside of your thighs.

You need this man more than one needs air to breathe.

“Patience, baby.” His voice is soothing on a surface level but does little to abate the fire burning through your entire body, the throbbing in your center. “Don’t I always take care of you?” When you don’t give him an answer, too busy trying to settle yourself, his hand grips your thigh. Tight. “I asked you a question.”

Swallowing, you nod, answering, “y-yes, you do.” 

Pleased with your obedience, he goes to remove his pants, and your eyes go straight to his massive bulge. You wet your lips. The moonlight shining through the window creates a backdrop of his broad shoulders, silk hair down and free. Just how you like it. 

He’s so beautiful and yours. 

Only yours.

Your hand reaches for his abs, wanting to touch him, when he captures your wrist, bringing your fingers to his mouth, sucking slowly, teasingly. 

Groaning, your head tilted back, another spasm works its way through your core. You need this man, and you need him now.

Joe detects as such and hovers over you, one rough hand grasping your breast as he glosses his lips over your clavicle. Moaning, you lift your thigh against his hip, wanting, needing some type of friction. 

He begins lining kisses down your body, lips leaving a flaming trail of desire in its wake. “Spread your legs for me, baby. And keep 'em open.” He doesn’t have to ask twice. You heed to his command, opening yourself to him. He kisses the inside of your thighs, eyes alight with desire. “Before you come on my dick, gotta taste this pretty pussy.” 

Joe makes a sound, taking his finger and swirling it around your pussy. A sticky line of your cum drips from his fingers, and you nearly come right then and there watching him suck it off. 

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing both of your legs over his shoulders, hooking them behind your knees. “Forgot how sweet you are.”

His cool breath hitting your core is the first thing you feel followed by that deliciously talented tongue taking one long swipe up your cunt. Instantly, your back is arching off the bed. That’s how sensitive you are to him, how easily your entire existence becomes focused solely on him and the insane pleasure he provides you.

The tip of Joe’s tongue swirls around your swollen, sensitive bud as he uses his other two fingers to keep your folds open, available to and for him to do whatever he wants. He plays with you, a tactic you’ve noticed he gets off on, edging you in a sense.

“Stop playing with me,” you groan, even if this feels just as good as anything else. It’s not what you want, what you need. What you need is his mouth on you, not this toying shit.

Sucking his teeth, he blows on your clit, and you hiss. “You really gon tell me how to take care of my pussy?” There’s a trace of humor in his voice as he dips one finger inside of you, smiling at the way you grip at the sheets. “Naw, baby. I know what you need.” 

And that’s when he finally does away with the teasing, locking your legs on his shoulders with his hand and buries his face into your pussy. “Shit!” It’s what you wanted, most definitely what you needed, but not what you expected. 

Fuck. He’s too good at this. 

Joe alternates with expert strokes, sucking and flicking your pussy, with a yearning and longing that’s matched only by the rapture soaring through your body. 

He eats your pussy like he does all things in life, with passion and dedication.

“Joe.” Tears burn your eyes as he continues to eat at you, rarely breaking for air and never allowing your body time to recover. He’s back to back, bringing you to climax and going right back to eating you out.

You’d forgotten how much he loved this. It’s nearly impossible to recall how many times this man has had his face in between your legs, but you could most definitely count how many times he’d let you return the favor. Joe didn’t care much about receiving. He was a pleaser, through and through.

“Baby, please, I can’t—I—-“ and it’s a waste of time because every inch up the bed is met with his strong hands on your hips, tugging you closer. Even as you cum, hard, nearly convulsing off the mattress, he stays sucking your pussy, lapping every bit of it up as his tongue circles your sensitive bud.

You’re not sure when he finally comes up, just that it’s after at least two orgasms. Maybe three. Keeping count with Joe is always a waste of time, because it’s always going to be several.  Panting, eyes fluttering, you take in the sight of him. His beard is wet, glistening with the result of his expert work. “I love eating this pussy.” His finger swirls and plays around with the absolute drenched mess you’ve made. “but I need you to come on my dick now.”

There’s a bit of dissociation in the next few minutes. He’s tongue fucked all of your five senses out of you that it’s only when you realize he’s got you on your hands and knees, dick teasing your soaked entrance that you're aware of what's about to happen. 

“Wait.” Your breath is haggard, voice drained from only this man’s tongue. This. This is the shit he does to you. This is why it took so long for you to let him go all those years ago. It’s the same reason you don’t think you’ll ever be able to let him go. Not after this. “I need—you gotta let me adjust, Joe.”

Joe’s dick is thick, long, and curved. The best you’ve ever had, but it’s been years since you last had him, so he has to take it easy on you, allow you time to accommodate him.

“You can take this dick, baby,” he encourages, pushing down on the top of your back until your cheek is pressed into the pillow, back arched perfectly. “And you always will.”

His tip nudges your sticky, gushy opening, starting a slow entrance that has your hands fisting. Inch by inch, he enters you, jaw clenching at how tightly your cunt clenches him. 

It’s been too long since he’s been inside you.  

“Oh my god.” You’d forgotten this, forgotten the delicious stretch of him inside of you, forgotten how deep he could go, touching you, reaching you in all the areas no one else could. And you had tried. God, you tried. Had your hookups, but no one was checking Joe’s box when it came to length, girth, and skill. And that tongue. Fuck, Joe ate your pussy like you were his last supper every single time.

Never a miss.

He doesn’t need to ask if you’re good. Joe sees the way you back your ass onto him, eager for him to fuck you like only he knows how to.

And he obliges. 

He slams into you with a force that has you wanting to scream out bloody murder. He feels so damn good inside of you. He stretches you so good, and you take him just as well.

“You on the pill?” He suddenly asks, slowing the speed and force of his thrusts, watching and enjoying your moans as he cruelly teases you, halting at your entrance before gradually re-entering. He’s playing with you, and it’s both blissful and miserable. 

Whining, you manage to answer, “fuck—n—no.”

“Good.” You shout when he slams back into you with such force that you reach for the headboard, needing something to keep you leveled. “Gonna fill you up with my cum.”

“Joe….” His words register, but it’s hard to think straight with this man fucking you so good. Shit, you missed this. “We—” You’re cut off again when he reaches in front of you, hand ghosting over your pussy, index finger circling your clit. “We ca—”

“I’m not pulling out.” He groans above you, the way your shit grips him. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“You’re just big,” you counter and cry out when he slides out of you and slams at a different angle that has your big breast slapping against your chest. “Shit, Joe.”

“Can he fuck you how I can?” For a second, you’re confused cause who the fuck is he talking about? There’s only one person that exists in your world right now, and that’s the man blowing your back out. “Answer me,” he demands, bringing a hand down on your ass. 

You cry out, “no, baby.” Your eyes water. He’s so deep in you. “N–no one fucks me like you do.” 

“Exactly,” he continues to play with your clit as you work hard not to let your entire apartment building know you’re getting your entire insides rearranged. “Your moans are for me,” he slows down momentarily, no doubt enjoying the view of his thick dick sliding in and out of you, coated in your cream. “You scream out my name.” 

“Yes, baby,” you whimper. You and Joe have fucked plenty of times, but this is different. There’s a meaning in every word that leaves his mouth, an oath behind every declaration. You know that after tonight, there is no turning back. 

“You’re mine,” he growls, big hands moving to the small of your back, holding you down and against the bed as he rams into you, determined and focused. “You’ve always been mine.”

Tears burn your eyes when he suddenly yanks you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. His hair fans part of your face, mouth pressed against your temple. “I can take care of you. Take care of this pussy. You don’t need nobody but me.”

Reaching your hand behind to caress his scalp, you murmur, head laid back against him. “I don’t want anybody but you.”

There’s something about your words, so vulnerable, so sincere. With a gentleness that’s contrasted all of his fucking thus far, he pulls out of you and lays you on your back. A whimper leaves your mouth at the loss of him inside of you only for him to move his body over yours and lift your legs to his waist. He sinks into you again, and you moan together, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he finds a pace that pleases the both of you.

Ankles locking above his ass, you enjoy the different kind of depth this allows. People shit on missionary, but it’s one of your favorite positions with Joe. It’s a level of connectedness and togetherness that makes you feel so close to him. Like you two are one and the same. 

“You're so good for me,” he continues to talk you through it, tears streaming down your face as he repeatedly thrusts against your g-spot. “So fucking good around me, fucking made for me.”

His words send you over the edge.

Hands on his face, forcing him to meet your gaze, you encourage, gently, “come with me.” He looks at you, and you know. You just know that there's not much, if anything, you could ask that he wouldn't do for you.

His thrusts become more uncontrolled, erratic, and that’s how you know it’s coming, building up until there’s a blinding white light behind your eyes, toes curling and head rocking back against the pillow. Joe is not far behind, staying true to his promise as he empties inside of you every bit of his cum until there’s nothing left.

Joe doesn’t move from off you, doesn’t remove himself from inside of you, instead his body rests on top of yours. Panting, you bring your hands to his scalp, nails gently raking through his hair as he lays against your chest, muttering, “let me stay like this in you for a little bit.”

You don’t want him to move anyway, don’t want him to go anywhere. You never did, just followed what you felt and believed was right. Joyce’s wise words from earlier suddenly return to the forefront of your mind. 

“You don’t lose love by sending it away. All you're doing is making it grow stronger.” 

That’s never felt and rang more true than in this moment.

[cuubism]

physical therapy, part 6.

--

Hob's been wavering on things like timeline with Dream because, well, he doesn't want to push, but he does obviously want more. There's a lot that he wants, and he thinks Dream wants it too. But Hob can be patient. Definitely. For sure. He's the epitome of patience.

In any case, after a few more dates which are oh so very patient, and in which Dream seems to be gradually coming more and more out of his shell, Hob finally takes the plunge and texts him:

If you want, come over to my place this weekend and I'll cook for you, and adds his address.

He paces nervously while waiting for a response. Dream coming over... he doesn't know how that would end. Well, it would hopefully at least end in Dream eating a proper meal, but other than that...

It's really not so long before he gets a response, though it feels like an eternity.

Okay, writes Dream, with a smile. 🙂 Should I bring anything?

Just yourself, writes Hob.

A shame, for I was planning to arrive incorporeally.

Hob smiles to himself at the comment. Dream is so much brighter once he decides he’s allowed to be.

On the agreed-upon date, Hob spends a truly excessive amount of time getting ready. He’s not even cooking anything elaborate, as he felt convinced he’d wind up fucking it up out of nerves if he did. But really, the quality of his food isn’t the wild card. What he’s nervous about is Dream’s response to being in his home. To being alone. Whether he’ll be okay with it. He doesn’t want to make Dream nervous.

But Dream arrives on time, and he’s smiling when Hob opens the door. He’s also carrying a huge canvas.

Oh!” Hob says, distracted from even kissing him hello. “What have you got there?”

“It is for you,” Dream says, and turns the canvas around so Hob can see it.

It’s a large painting of a rather clever-looking cat, bright colors and bold swathes of paint. It reminds Hob of Dream’s finger paintings, actually, but far more precise in technique. It’s lovely. It’s so cute. And much more playful than Dream’s older art, the pieces he had shown Hob from before his injury.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous,”  he says, and Dream smiles shyly. “I take it your grip’s been feeling steadier, then?”

“Somewhat,” Dream says, following Hob deeper into the flat, as Hob takes the painting and sets it on top of a low bookshelf, propped against the wall. Later he’ll have to hang it up properly. “I am. Enjoying painting again. I think.”

It’s so good to hear. Each time Hob sees Dream he seems incrementally better. Less frozen. More outgoing. And it always makes Hob realize that he’s only gotten to see a fraction of the life that truly exists inside of him.

“I’m so glad to hear that, darling,” he says.

It hurts to think of the version of Dream that might have been there before being hurt. But Hob likes the Dream that he gets to know now.

He leads Dream into the kitchen and bids him to sit down at the table while Hob serves their food, which is staying warm on the stove. Normally, when he invites someone over, he’d offer them wine, but he doesn’t want Dream to get the wrong idea. God, he’s probably massively overthinking things. He’s being totally paranoid, he knows it. But it feels so important that it be right. He’d never forgive himself if he made Dream feel unsafe around him, even if it was by accident.

“I am curious what you’ve prepared to attempt to persuade me to change my habits,” Dream says, after taking a sip of the water Hob’s handed him.

“Something with a lot of butter,” Hob says, and Dream laughs softly. Dream needs it, though. He needs something that’ll stick to his bones.

What he has is tarragon chicken—fried in, truly, an excessive amount of butter—served over rice with string beans. If this can’t encourage Dream to eat real meals, nothing can.

And, gratifyingly, he’s right. Dream devours it, and has seconds. As he eats his own serving more sedately Hob wonders when the last time was that somebody actually cooked for him.

They barely even talk, but Hob doesn’t mind. He just wants Dream to eat.

“You can cook,” Dream says, and Hob laughs.

“Was that in question?”

A light blush graces Dream’s cheeks. “When you first mentioned cooking for me, I had the thought that you were a catch. For that reason among others.”

Hob can’t help himself from smiling—and perhaps blushing a bit, too. “I’ll have to keep it up, and maybe you’ll keep me.”

Dream looks down at his food, but murmurs, “I would like to.”

So Hob takes his hand on the table and squeezes it.

Later in the evening, when they’ve been ensconced on the couch for a while watching mindless telly, Dream’s head on his shoulder, Hob says, “You can stay over if you want. No expectations. Just don’t want you walking home in the dark.”

He’ll walk Dream home if that’s what he really wants, but it’s already midnight and it really might be easier to just stay put.

“Am I allowed to stay over in your bed?” Dream asks, and Hob’s pulse jumps.

“That’s what you want?”

Dream nods.

So, heart still beating hard, Hob says, “Alright. Come on, then.”

And Dream takes his hand as Hob draws him up.

He gets Dream situated with some of his pajamas, which are far too large on him, and with a spare toothbrush and so on, and when they’re finally ready he tries not to be too awkward or nervous as he climbs into bed and gestures Dream to follow, saying, “Come on, love.”

He expects Dream might hesitate, but he doesn’t, just crawls into bed after him and presses himself all up against Hob’s body, laying his head on Hob’s chest. And— God. He’s really decided that he trusts Hob. It puts a lump in Hob’s throat.

He feels like a fucking teenager again, stomach all fluttery just at the feeling of Dream lying against him. In past relationships, Hob had mostly jumped in sex-first, questions-later. But maybe there are more benefits to taking things slow than he thought. It makes every tiny thing feel monumental.

“Comfortable?” he asks, and Dream nods, hair brushing Hob’s chin.

“Yes, thank you.”

Hob pulls the blankets up over them, pets his hair. Dream lets out a long, happy sigh, and snuggles closer.

I’m going to keep you, Hob thinks. “Goodnight, Dream,” he says.

#a nice moment before ANGST #you didn't think we were done with angst did you XD #physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #tarragon chicken is a family recipe--thin chicken cutlets breaded and fried in butter with white wine wash and tons of chopped tarragon #i recommend

[eustasskidagenda]

anon asked: Hi sweetie, My brain just can't get over the idea of Kid being pegged, I mean, everything is so 'grabable" on his body. So could you write an OS or drabble about this? With a female reader. Maybe Kid would have that kink after a certain time in their relationship, according to your NSFW alphabet. With maybe some overstimulation, hair pulling and spanking as additional kinks? And if it's possible, could you write this with Kid being pegged for the first time? I think it's can be interesting! Last, please, can you write him as extra tough/bratty but his attitude breaks bc he can't handle how good it feels. I hope my request was understandable, I don't know how to explain myself properly. Tysm for your time and anon please

Hi! Well, that was an interesting request! And you’re so damn right, Kid's body is so grabbable. It was quite fun to write, Kid is such a brat, I love him so much :D Sorry for the long wait (my back is still injured) and thank you for requesting, I hope I did the job correctly :D ☆

☆Eustass Kid getting pegged for the first time

CW : MDNI, smut, f!reader, pegging, overstimulation, hair pulling, spanking, praises (bc Kid lives for praises), established relationship, Kid has a filthy mouth, Kid is a big brat, kind of virginity loss kink I guess (?), fingering & oral sex (Kid receiving), dirty talk, rough sex

WC : around 4K. I know it's really long, but I wanted to develop a bit Kid's mindset. Hope you don't mind the length!`

Kid is everything, but not submissive. It's written on his face, and the moment you met him, you immediately knew that he would always be in control of absolutely everything. Including in the bedroom. And you never tried to change that, because Kid knows what he's doing. You crave the sensations of his hands gripping your waist and his huge body pressing against yours. However, in the back of your mind, a fantasy always refused to leave your spirit. Your giant, hot-headed boyfriend, moaning and begging while you fuck him. So, once, you tried to talk him about pegging, and you earned nothing, but a dark, mad scowl and a "no" yelled loudly."I'm not a wimp, y/n, no one will ever fuck me. I ain't no bottom bitch." That's what he said. And you know Kid is a stubborn mess, so you never tried to bring the subject up again.

It was five years ago. 

Your mind is still filled with this fantasy. So, a few days ago, you tried again to convince your stubborn boyfriend. It was in the middle of a passionate make-out session, and you caught him off-guard. Initially, you believed that he would yell at you once more. However, he simply scowled and frowned. "You're so goddamn stubborn, I thought you would forget about this stupid idea." And then, he shrugged. "You better take the bigger size, I'm not a fucking pussy." 

You still don't realize that he actually said 'yes'. In his language, with a lot of cursing and arrogance, but he did accept. It took him five years to gain sufficient trust in you. What a challenge. That's what you think as you relax on the huge bed and read a book that Kid stole for you. You're waiting for him, actually. Kid is probably locked in his workshop, working on some random weapon or new arm improvement. 

Suddenly, the door hits the wall. "You're not sleeping yet?" He asks, closing the door behind him. He's still wearing his goggles and his lips are painted with your favorite red lipstick. And on his skin, some stains of oil. "Gonna take a shower, I'll be right back soon." You laugh softly. "Fine, but don't remove your makeup yet." He mutters 'I don't take orders from anyone' before slamming the door once more.

When he comes back with make-up still on his face, you can't help but smile. He listened to you. Locking the door with a kick, Kid drops his heavy coat on the ground, cracks his neck, and crawls on the bed. He immediately wraps his hands around your waist. "Come here. I want to fuck my pretty girlfriend." He sits you on his lap and holds your hips firmly. As he smears his lipstick on your neck, you shudder and put your face against his neck. Kid slides his hand and firmly gropes your ass. "Mine," he growls, squeezing your bottom. "I want to see that pretty ass, undressed and get on all fours," 

You raise an amused eyebrow. "No, I won't." He scowls, irritated by your teasing expression. You roam your hands along Kid's broad chest. "You're the one getting on all fours this time." He scoffs. A low chuckle rumbles up from his chest as he gazes at you. "You're being feisty tonight?" He squeezes your ass tighter. "No. I didn't forget what you said. I chose the larger size. So, will you let me fuck you?" 

Totally flushed, Kid scoffs once more. "Goddam, y/n" You can almost see the gears of his brain working quickly. "Why are you so obsessed with this thing?" He groans, still holding your cheeks and squeezing them like if it were a stress ball. "Because you're hot. And you know where your prostate is, right, Eustass?" Kid scowls at you. "I'm not stupid, y/n." You gently touch the corner of his lips with a kiss. "So let me pleasure you." 

You take off his goggles and his red hair falls free on his forehead. He's as beautiful and fierce as ever, gazing at you with his amber eyes. He forces you to sit on his lap while he thinks. And his laps make quite a beautiful throne to sit on. Your heart is racing and you're hoping Kid won't change his mind. You need to see that large, massive body, shivering under your touch. There's something so exciting about the idea of fucking such a big, tough, and rude man as Kid. "Y/n, I swear on everything I have: if you ever try to tell to anyone what I'm about to do… I'll fucking kill you. And I'm not even kidding."

Damn, you know he's not kidding.

Kid cares way too much about his reputation. He's so touchy and sensitive whenever someone tries to deny his status or powers. So, abandoning his dominant position is not easy for his stubborn mind. He must really cares about you. Your dear captain only knows the hard way. His strong spirit was the only thing he had as a poor child, when he used to fight for almost everything. That's why he toughens up so much. Right now, he seems much more human. There's a hint of anxiety in his eyes. Maybe he loves you, but people have betrayed him so many times, he can't help but be a bit distrustful. "Eustass, I won't tell anyone, even Killer. It's between you and me, I swear. " Kid sighs deeply. " Goddam woman… fine." 

Relieved, you kiss his lips softly. As a punk, Kid always craved for non-conformism. You noticed really soon that he was always curious to try things considered 'weird' by society. But you never thought he would let you peg him. Your heart is brimming with excitement, pride, and impatience. You squirm to escape the strong grasp of your boyfriend and reach for the nightstand .Kid watches closely as you grab the lube and the strap-on. You didn't lie; you chose the larger size. Kid glances at the toy for a long moment, but remains quiet. 

"Alright, come here and lie back." Immediately, Kid raises an eyebrow. "You want me to take orders from you? Ain’t no fucking way" Ah yes. Kid. Constantly bratty and hot-headed. "Come on, Eustass." You gently try to push him on his back, but he doesn't move, struggling with his inner thoughts. "Let me pleasure you." As you press your palms harder against his chest, he snarls and eventually lies back, completely tensed. You reach for his belt and he pushes your hand. "I can do that myself," he grunts, taking off his shirt, unbuckling his belts and unbuttoning his pants. 

Damn, what a sight to watch at Eustass Kid's naked body. Muscular shoulders, broad and toned chest, abs as hard as the stone, big and grabbable thighs, and that perfect muscular, round booty. "Your name is so accurate, Eust-ass", you laugh as his face turns as red as his hair. "Shut up and do your fucking job," he barks aggressively. He's trying to hide his flustered state. How cute.

Your hand reaches for his already hard cock and you firmly wrap your hands around the thick girth. Kid bucks his hips, eager for more friction. "You're so hard. Are you actually turn on by the situation?" His cock twitches in your palms. "You know what? You should shut the fuck up. Why won't you suck my cock?" He grins and grabs your hair. Damn, even now, he can't help but give your orders. Kid smirks as you comply, content with himself. "That's it, take it all." His cock is throbbing with needs as he pushes deeper down your throat. You can already taste his pre-cum in your mouth.

You keep sucking him while reaching for the lube, spreading it on your fingers, and guiding your fingers against his tight hole. Kid tenses automatically. "Just do it, I'm not a pussy," he mutters. With a wet sound, you remove his cock from your mouth. "Eustass, just to be sure: have you already been fucked in the ass before?" 

Now, even his neck is red. "Hell no. Do I fucking look like a guy who likes being fucked all the fucking days?" He snarls, his pride stinging. His thoughts are filled with lust as he feels your hands on him, making his heart race. "Now what?" You don't answer and continue to run your hands along his muscular thighs, grabbing them to widen his legs. "You're so pretty for me." Kid lets out a low, growling sigh, his cock twitching with the need. "Don't call me pretty. And fuck me, I'm dying of impatience" 

"Fine, fine. You're needy." You gently tease him, spreading his ass cheeks to take a look at this hole clenching around nothing. Eustass tenses under your touch. "Don't fucking look at my ass like that" he growls, squirming nervously. "Why not?" You whisper, kissing his inner thighs and squeezing his muscular flesh. With your lips, you trace all of his scars and curves. "Because I'm not some fucking object for you to gawk at!" Kid roars, shoving your hands away from his ass. "Now, are you going to fuck me or what?"

You can't help but chuckle. He's such a hot-headed mess. Even more stubborn, yelling and aggressive than usual. Your poor boyfriend is really flustered and turned-on by this situation. The unknown is something he finds unpleasant because he can't control it. "Don't worry, I'll fuck you soon. Let me prepare and stretch you first." You're rubbing your fingers against his entrance, as you say. "Prepare me?" He sneers, his voice thick with disbelief and irritation. "I'm not some delicate flower" He continues to protest, but his heart is racing at the thought of being filled with the massive strap you choose. "Stop being so bratty." You sigh, apply more lube to your fingers, and spread it on Kid's entrance. " Just breathe and relax for me." You gently push two lubricate fingers inside him. His warmth and tightness immediately surround you. With a shiver, Kid groans and grabs the bedsheets. His head, neck, and shoulders are all flushed. 

Kid groans as you keep teasing the tip of his cock with your free hand. The double-stimulations is too much for his body to handle. You gently push your fingers deeper, savoring your boyfriend's low grunts and how he clenches around you. So needy already. "You're doing okay, babe?" You ask teasingly, curling your fingers and rubbing his prostate. Kid grabs the bedsheets tightly. Right now, he looks so vulnerable; he doesn't have his prosthetic arm. Just his bare body covered with scars and his big thighs trembling crazily. "Don't call me 'babe'" he grunts, bucking his hips against your hands, eager for more of your touch. It's almost hilarious how hard he tries to hide the moans of pleasure that threaten to escape his lips. "Look like you're enjoying yourself" you tease, stimulating his prostate. "Fuck!" Kid groans, his body arching off the bed. "Just get it over with, I can't get much fore of your goddamn teasing!" he growls, his voice laced with need. 

Eustass 'Captain' Kid is finally begin to break down.

That is so fascinating to watch such a big and scary man, so needy and almost begging for more. Begging to actually be fucked. You continue to finger him and he yells, his eyes rolling back in his head as the sensation shot straight to his cock. The pre-cum is leaking onto your fingers and his stomach as his member throbs in your hand. Kid's body trembles, betraying his arousal despite his best efforts to maintain control and the tough boy-attitude. "Just fuck me," he growls impatiently. 

"Okay. Then, get on your hands and knees." You demand, taking your fingers off. "No." 

"Why, no?" 

He frowns. Of course. He won't obey. No one can commands the great Eustass "Captain" Kid. You sigh, half-amused and half-annoyed by his stubbornness. Despite his dislike for orders, what if you simply guide him with your hands? Perhaps he will comply. Holding his hips with firm yet gentle hands, you attempt to roll him onto his stomach. But you can't move his big, heavy body if he's not willing to obey. Kid glances at you for a long time, and when you finally break the eye contact, he huffs and rolls on his stomach. Your heart is racing at the sight of his muscular back. Some scars are running down his spine. Both the small of his back and his ass are incredibly juicy. You can feel yourself becoming increasingly wet as you imagine the moment you will finally fuck him and drive him crazy. 

Still with your hands, you try to move him on all fours. Kid growls and arches his back. But he can't really stay on all fours with his missing arm, so he ends up with his head buried in the pillow and his ass perfectly raised in your direction. The position he's in is so helpless and vulnerable that it makes your throat feel a bit dry. He must really trust you to be so exposed. "You can breath at least?" He turns his head. "Of course I can, just fuck me."

He glances across his shoulders as you put on your strap-on and spread some lube on the fake cock. Kid asked for it to be both large and long, and it is. His spirit of competition is quite amusing, but you hope he'll be fine. You give a playful spank to Kid's amazing, muscular ass and enjoy the nice jiggling. It's only fair to give him a light spanking because it's his favorite activity when you're on all fours.

By pressing on the small of his back, you force him to bend more, enough to spread his ass cheeks without your hands. Then, you gently rub the cockhead of the toy against his tight entrance. Kid eyes roll back in his head as he feels the cold rubber head pressing against his hole. "Hurry up and fuck me, damn it! He grumbles with a voice full of desire and impatience. His cock throbbing between his legs shows that he's ready. "Just relax and let me in," your orders before starting to push the massive toy inside him. "Fuck", Kid hisses out between clenched teeth, his body shuddering from the intrusion. He tries to manage his breathing, and he feels the thick head of the dildo stretching his entrance further. "Shit…" he cries out, as the cockhead finally passes his tight ring of muscles. His body instinctively fights back. You soothe him with one hand while gripping his hips firmly with the other. "Just breathe, Eustass. You're doing so good. Just a little more and it will all be inside. " Kid grabs the bedsheets with his hand, his whole body shaking and covered in a slight coat of sweat. As Kid finally relaxes, you manage to push the big toy deeper into him.  "You're taking me so well, Eustass." You purr, watching the thick girth of the strap sink completely inside him, stretching his ass widely. "That shit is so fucking big," he groans out, his body shaking with the sensation of being filled so deeply. His ass walls are tightly clamped around the toy. "That's what you wanted" you laugh playfully, squeezing his ass. You can’t believe you’re finally filling him up to the hilt.

"Shit! I know. Just fuck me, I can handle it." Even as it overwhelms his senses, he cannot deny the pleasure that surges through him. Seeing him with a completely flustered face would be wonderful, but you know that he's probably more comfortable that way, with you taking him from behind. If you are unable to see his expressions, he may be more willing to let it go and indulge in the pleasure.

Your entire body is aching. It's too much for you. Kid is so perfect, so pretty, on all fours for you. His muscular body offers to your hands and thrusts. You had no idea that he would allow you to realize one of your most significant fantasies. Now, you have to take good care of him and prove to him how good it can be to be fucked. Maybe he will accept to do it again if he's convincing enough.

You gently start to thrust, sliding in and out with ease thanks to all the lube. The amount of lube is making some wet, obscene sounds with each thrust. Kid grunts, almost moans and tries to hide it behind a curse word as you move your hips. Your hands move from his waist to his ass, and you grab it firmly. You spank the firm flesh playfully. "So perfect" you whisper while thrusting. Kid groans lowly as you continue to plunge the toy into his ass. "You look so beautiful when I’m inside you." Kid sighs. "Can you stop babbling and actually starts to fuck me for real?" He tries to keep his moans under control, his teeth tightening tightly. 'Fuck," he mutters, his voice thick with need and desire. " Damn Eustass, you're taking me so well. You're so beautiful, I-"

" Harder " Kid grunts, silencing you. " I can take it, fuck me harder." You give another spanking to his ass, which slowly turns red. Kid bites the bedsheets, smearing his lipstick everywhere on the pillow and on the mattress. As you speed up your thrusts, Kid bites the bedsheets more firmly to muffle his moans. The sensations are too intense, the pleasure is too overwhelming for his poor mind. He can't think clearly, and is slowly starting to lose his tough-guy attitude. It's tempting to tease him about his pretty, husky moans. He's such a whimpering mess. But you shut up. It's obvious to you that he would feel mocked and humiliated. And you want him to trust you. It's beautiful to watch him indulge in a new world of sensations. With each hard thrust, the inner ring of the strap grinds against your clit, and you moan as well, digging your nails into Kid's ass. "You should see how your hole is swallowing all of me." The mind totally dizzy, your boyfriend doesn't react and just bucks his hips, eager for more friction, more roughness. "Yeah yeah i get it; you love my ass. Just fuck me harder," he begs again impatiently. His body is trembling as his mind still tries to fight against the pleasure washing over him. His cock twitch violently, releasing pre-cum as it throbs in response to your thrusts. "Fuck," he repeats, moaning. Burying his head in the pillow, he bites it. You know, his lipstick is probably all over the white bedsheets. You spank his ass playfully, speeding up your thrusts. "Damn, you were right Eustass, you're taking me so well. You like how wide it stretches you?"

The slapping sounds of the skin fill the room as Kid turns into a whimpering, almost whiny mess. It's difficult for him to handle how good you're stretching him and how nice the toy is rubbing his prostate. You continue to thrust, chasing your own highs. The rubber ring is stimulating your clit just nice, not to mention the amazing view of your boyfriend on all fours and at your mercy. The fake balls of the toy slaps against Kid’s balls. With one hand, you still hold his hips firmly. With the other, you pull on his hair, fucking him deeper. His face is completely red, his eyes are almost wet, and his lipstick is smeared on his chin and cheek. Amazed by this sight, your pussy ache in need. You already know how beautiful Kid looks when he can't handle how tight your cunt is. But that. It's beyond all expectations. The slight pain from his hair being pulled and his ass being spanked only add to his arousal, his cock throbbing with need. All he can mutter is a long, long strand of'shit' and 'fuck'. 

Kid buries his head back in the pillow after you release his head. His ass is red from both your spanking and the roughness of your hips when slamming against his. Amazed by the way his body is completely swallowing the toy, you too moan. You reach for his chest, squeezing his large tiddies. Your breast bounces crazily with each hard thrust and Kid's body just jolts of pleasure. You know he won't take much more. So you reach for his cock and as soon as you touch it, Kid cum violently, arching his back, curling his toes and making a mess on the bedsheets. The pleasure just washes over him. But you don't stop, still chasing your own highs. "Fuck!" Kid groans again, his body shuddering from the intense release. His massive frame falls stomach-first on the bed. The friction between his sensitive cock and the mattress is causing him to squirm and jerk. "Damn, Y/N!" He grips the bedsheets more tightly and pants heavily. The way you're overstimulating his sensitive walls and prostate is too much to handle.

"Almost there", you whisper, and finally, you feel the pleasure running through your veins. Your loud boyfriend can't help but cum once more, his eyes rolling back in his head, short-circuited by his second orgasm. You continue to give him some sloppy thrusts, making him squirm and cry out. "You're amazing," you whisper before finally pulling out the toy carefully. With a loud 'plop', you completely pull out the toy, leaving Kid with a gaping hole.

'You're okay?' You whisper, stroking his back gently and playing with his hair. "Hmph. That wasn't that bad" he admits, his chest heaving up and down. Your fierce boyfriend struggles to glance at you and keeps his head buried in the pillow. Despite the intense pleasure he'd just had, his pride is swollen. You gently kiss his lower back, leaving a trail of kissing along his spine. "You were amazing… so beautiful and perfect for me…" Kid grunts slowly. At the moment, he only needs praises. He cannot deny how good it was. And his mind is tortured. What does it mean? Is he still the same for you? Does he look less manly now? Or cruel, maybe? Ashamed, Kid slowly manages to relax as you keep praising him. "You're alright?" You ask, kissing his neck. "Yeah." He grumbles, still trying to catch his breath, and finally rolls onto his back. You take off the strap-on and leave the bedroom, just for a moment. When you came back with a wet cloth, Kid didn't move at all. Without any words, you clean him. "Are you hurt anywhere?" He shakes his head. "No. I fucking lost my arm, I can handle having my ass pounded, damn." He groans. "Alright, alright. Just move your ass then, let me change the bedsheets."

Kid struggles to comply, barely standing up on his shaking legs. After you're finished, he returns to his bed. "Are you joining me or what?" With a chuckle, you comply, pressing your naked body against his. Kid wraps his hand tightly around your waist. "I love you, Eustass" you whisper close to his ear. The confession brings his heart racing. "Of course you love me." 

He rolls on his side in silence. You know exactly what he wants, so you wrap your arms around his large body. "My big boy loves to be the little spoon," you laugh and he grunts a 'shut up'. 

His hand reaches for yours and intertwined your fingers. 

"Why are you smiling?" Kid asks as he feels you smile against his back. "Nothing." 

You're just so proud of your stubborn, hot-headed boyfriend. And proud of how your relationship just evolved. Kid is always hard to understand and you never know if he loves you, but those kind of moments… it eases all your doubts. You're overjoyed to have the chance to see the vulnerable, human Kid. He can sleep comfortably. You won't tell anyone about it; it was too precious, you want to keep it to yourself. 

"Alright, just smile then, he grumbles", still holding your hand.

#one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece requests #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid headcanons #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #eustass kid imagine #eustass kid #one piece smut #eustass kid smut #eustass captain kidd #eustass kidd x reader #kidd x reader #one piece writing #one piece fanfiction

[theaquamarinearchives]

[ forget you ― dan heng & kaeya ] "the day i needed you the most was the day you weren't there at all." cw. gn!reader, angst with no comfort, amnesia, established relationships, mentions of alcohol & drinking (kaeya)

aquamarine's findings. another old blog repost (i'm just getting through all of my old works tbh, just assume it's an old blog repost from here on) // past me said "i'm not sorry" in the notes

DAN HENG didn't quite know what to expect when welt texted him about your situation. his own partner in an accident? he knew that he should have been persistent and gone with you and march 7th. he should have fought to go with you, he should have- he should have done a lot. after a few painstaking days of you being trapped in a comatose state within belobog's hospital with every visitation request denied, dan heng decided that he had more than regrets about this.

he spent his days and evenings restless, pacing his room with every thought rushing through his mind; would you survive? would you hate him? he figured you had every right to despise him. no amounts of time spent with his head in documentation, tracing over booklets of planets and history books regarding the aeons could ease his mind.

dan heng felt guilt, as if he only had himself to blame for standing there so quietly as you and march excitedly announced that you were going to belobog on behalf of himeko. march chimed in that you'd use it more as a shopping trip and whilst you laughed it off, dan heng silently wished he could go just to protect you. you were capable but he was anxious, losing you was the last thing he wanted.

this feeling would eat at him for as long as the doctors tending to you kept rejecting the astral express' visitation requests. he wanted to see you and now it felt as though he had to pay the price - another price... wasn't he paying enough already? his heart could rot from the amount of guilt he withheld inside of him, not daring to utter it to the older members of the crew. it could break his ribs, tear him open but he'd refuse to mention it.

miserable, dark grey clouds covered belobog's usual sunshine, painting the city in a dull appearance that could only match dan heng's numb emotions as the astral express crew navigated the streets of the city, finally on their way to see you. in march's bandaged hands - she'd taken the lesser of the injuries, coming back onboard the express with a few scrapes - was a beautifully wrapped bouquet of flowers, a bittersweet get-well-soon gift in light of the news that they'd receive along with their permission from the doctors; you had amnesia and they were still testing what you remembered from the accident.

he was nervous - no, he was far more than nervous. it showed on his face the moment they all solemnly shuffled into the tight hospital room, grimacing as they brushed against each other to gather around your bed. except there wasn't a form of excitement on your tired face but rather a look of confusion. welt cleared his throat first, eyes darting to look at dan heng's sudden loss of colour that drained from his face.

"they don't remember," he whispers to himself, as if no one else was around him. he takes a moment to lean back on the wall, "they don't remember me."

it takes welt's hand on dan heng's back to guide him out of the room shakily but nothing feels real anymore. all the memories, chaste kisses and moments where dan heng had done more than warm up to you in light of his past and previous life. you remembered none of it, not an ounce of the love he'd grown comfortable enough to give you, nothing.

dan heng's legs feel weak under him as his heart tears apart. perhaps this was a clean slate in terms of his regrets in protecting you, he could have done better and now he has a chance to wipe it all clear for you - you're not angry at him but he knows it's because you simply don't remember what happened.

he'll protect you better this time, more closely and not taking his eyes off of you. maybe one day, he'll tell you about the relationship the two of you shared; the kisses under the stars and the nights curled up together reading your own books. he would still love you. he'd always love you.

━

it felt like a fever dream when amber came to find KAEYA while he was on a commission for the knights. he hadn't been drinking on the job when the brunette arrived nor had he consumed any that morning... so how come she was spewing nonsense about you being seriously injured on a commission?

the cherry on the top? you didn't recognise a single person who'd visited you on bedrest. not jean, not barbara, not mika or lisa, not even noelle. and as your partner, kaeya was terrified by that prospect. you saw noelle and jean daily, always in cohorts with them - hell, you would see lisa sometimes more than you saw him, thanks to the busy nature of his rank.

if you didn't remember them without a sliver of recognition, would you remember him? he found it hard to breathe the whole way back to the city of mondstadt with a restless young brunette at his side and - begrudgingly, kaeya hadn't even invited him along - the owner of the dawn winery. diluc was equally as pained to hear of your accident from amber and who was he to not be there during possibly one of the most painful times of his brother's life? he'd done him wrong before, multiple times and perhaps he had tried to brush their brotherly relationship off but he was his brother, his found family. now, he needed him.

there was only so much dread that could consume kaeya's tall body. the peaceful sounds of mondstadt no longer soothed him on his walk to the city like it usually did after a commission, no. in fact, it was killing him. he wanted to hold your face in his hands, his breath fanning over your lips as he stares into your hands. he wanted to see that beautiful smile of yours again, the way you roll your eyes at his drinking antics.

what was he supposed to do if you had forgot about him too? amber says you'd taken heavy trauma to the head. amnesia... amnesia is what ruined his life this time? not family issues and abandonment, not a family death and the awful grip of guilt and anger... amnesia. memory loss. something that had so bitterly taken his beloved from him. you'd been the first person kaeya had truly warmed up to since he drifted away from diluc. the first person to see his true sides, to see his sheer raw emotions.

kaeya had had plenty of time to prepare for this endeavour on the way into the city, knowing the chances you'd forgotten him were plenty high with how you'd forgotten the other knights. yet to hear you utter the words "who are you?" with such an innocent look to your face, overridden by confusion, it shattered his heart. his lungs felt like he was suffocating and he almost wanted to choke out 'your partner' into the air but he doesn't.

instead, with the reassuring touch of diluc's calloused hand on his shoulder, kaeya forces a weak smile onto his face, sun kissed skin glowing in the golden light of the sunset that breaks through the open window in your room as he clears his throat to reintroduce himself to you, "i'm kaeya."

his voice cracks, a dead giveaway to those in attendance that he was struggling with the reality of this. because of you, he'd lacked to drink as much on the evenings but now... diluc was already preparing to drag his brother away from the taverns, muttering curses that drinking was not the right coping mechanism. he'd be at his brother's side even if the latter reeked of wine.

kaeya would love you all over again, he'd spend so much time with you it would be suffocating if only it meant you fell in love with him again. a second chance to right his wrongs, to kiss those lips again. you were his, he wasn't going to let you fall into the hands of anyone else. he'd fix this.

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#: recorded in the archives #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #kaeya x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng angst #kaeya angst #hsr angst #genshin angst #hsr x reader #genshin x reader