#also: fuck the trades and i hope everyone remembers that forever

[montanabohemian]

OH MY GODDDDDDD!??!??!?!!!!!!!!!!!!

SAG-AFTRA GOT A (tentative) DEAL

SAG-AFTRA GOT A FUCKING (tentative) DEAL

SAG-AFTRA GOT THEIR FUCKING (tentative) DEAL

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

edit: HERE'S THE OFFICIALOn a black background. A white figure with its right arm upraised. Next to it. In white tex: SAG-AFTRA. Below. In yellow text: STRIKE IS. Below. In white text: OVER. Below. In small, yellow text: Strike is suspended as of 12:01 AM (PT) November 9.

#sag aftra #sag strike #sag afra strike #sag after strong #actors strike #union strong #JUST LIKE WITH THE WRITERS IT'S TENTATIVE AND MUST GO TO MEMBERS FOR A VOTE #BUT HOLY SHIT FUCK???????????????????????? #i hope it's a good one #i hope they shoved AI up AMPTP's ass because the execs were NOT budging on AI (like full on we want to use your likeness when you die) #i linked a twitter post and not any of the trades because FUCK the trades #i don't yet have anything 'official' from SAG itself #but the twitter post is from a member of the NEGCOM AND THAT IS WHO I FUCKING TRUST #i trust negcom members more than anyone #also: fuck the trades and i hope everyone remembers that forever #I WILL EDIT WHEN I GET THE OFFICIAL OFFICIAL WORD FROM SAG THEMSELVES #GOD I WANT TO READ THE FUCKING DEAL SO BAD #LET ME SEE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT #THE OFFICIAL SAG ANNOUNCEMENT DROPPED SO I HAVE LINKED IT

[rewordthis]

The struggles of art, are not for everyone.

It’s really not, indeed.

You have to like the process first and foremost.

If when putting the tip of the pencil down onto paper your main thoughts are how you’re bad, how you won’t have any progress, or hope you’ll be as good as those famous artists you follow on here or Twitter, then you’re really doing it wrong.

I’ve been drawing for forever and I still don’t seem to make anything better than before but having an old drawing around always puts things into perspective. I draw because it gives me peace of mind. If it just gives you anxiety then sure, it’s not for you.

And in the end, what I love the most about it is the sensation of my pencil-tip scratching that blank void that a sheet of paper is. Not the prospect of earning likes, a following, or money from it. I have tons of art that’ll never see the light of day for many reasons, that I’m so hang up on the fact that I made it. I was in my best condition when I made those pieces, in the right headspace, I was whole. The muses guided my hands these times, God smiled down on me.

What can I say? I’m a girl of simple things.

But the whole debate about whether AI is a medium for creation or easy theft, has soured my mood.

I do NOT consider AI art when its main ‘reference’ is straight up stealing and plagiarising someone’s sweat and tears. Before feeding it your favourite artist’s (or writer’s) work to mince and chew it up like it’s nothing in order to vomit a halfassed attempt at creation on your part remember this, the artists and writers the works of you used, are real people. They breathe, they eat, they cry. They pour TIME into their works. Time that you do NOT respect. They put feelings into their works. Feelings that you do NOT respect. For some of them, it’s also their main income. Income that you DEVALUE by stealing what is considered a unique trait of their trade!

You will NEVER learn anything nor get better at anything other than stealing that way. Because you haven’t known the value of hard work. The value of putting a chip of your soul into what you make. The value of living inside every work you’ve ever CREATED. You never lost sleep, food, or a piece of your sanity trying to make something from scratch. Trying to make it work. Trying to give birth to something unique.

What pitiful existences really, are those who can’t value someone else’s soul enough to respect it…

Anyway… this is getting heavy for me so I’m not going to rant over this anymore. I just want to say that I’m going to release some basic everyday steps for those who really want to learn drawing to follow on their own. Art takes time. Great writing takes time. It also takes for someone to be happy each time for what they were capable of creating.

That said, let me be clear that these mini exercises aren’t gonna clinch you a job at mappa, nor are they going to teach you proportions or whatever else those tutorials promise you, they’re specific to making you understand how 3D and observation works in order for you to be able to pick the elements you need every time you make a new piece. That’s all!

Progress isn’t jumping from 3yo art to fucking Rembrandt. It’ll suck ass before it even looks remotely decent!

Make sure to have that☝️printed and posted on your wall. That’s an order! *flexes whip*

Ok, I’m kidding, but seriously that’s your only motto from now on if you want to get better.

And now let’s prepare the ground for your exercises.

What you’ll need first is either a normal pencil or a 2mm one. No 0,5’s or whatever… in general NO mechanical pencils. Personally I’d recommend starting with a wooden pencil, though.

A good eraser that doesn’t smudge. It doesn’t matter what colour or brand as long as it erases the graphite well and without too much mess. Remember, NO SMUGES! *Forgot to say, a charcoal eraser will be a good friend, if it’s affordable. (Sorry for forgetting that.)

Now, hardness:

Find your typical hand writing pressure in the table below.

Generally the harder you press, the more difficult to erase. So bigger pressure (aka black marks, scratches etc) is 5.

5 4 3 2 1

2H H HB B 2B

How it works:

If you’re 3 you’ll need:

H: tracing

HB: outline

2B: shading

If you’re a 5 you’ll need:

2H: tracing

H or HB: outline

B: shading

If you’re 1 you’ll need:

HB: tracing

HB or B: outline

2B: shading

If you are 2 or 4 you’ll have to go through trial and error. Sorry. Just keep in mind that depending on where you lean; extremes or average (3), you follow the guidelines above.

For example, I am a hard 5 (if not 5,5 lol) so at some point I resorted working with just 2H and HB. I only ever use B when I need something to be black— which admittedly happens rarely. It’s only a few times you’ll need to depict actual black.

> You generally need a tracing pencil that won’t leave too dark visible marks behind when erased. People 5 and 4 will have to be a little careful though and not scratch the paper but that will come with practice.

> Your outline has to be enough to ‘stain’ the paper so you won’t lose your main sketch. It’s also correction time. Yey!

> Your shading shouldn’t smudge because you’re going to use layers. Yes. Even in traditional art you darken in layers, typically in as light moves as possible and in varying angles until you get the shade you want but that’s for later.

I personally don’t have any specific papers to propose to you (bitch you’re using basic photo-printing A4 papers wth lol). You’ll just need a hard surface, especially my 5 and 4 palls.

Ok, that’s it for today, folks.

Let me also slap a disclaimer here: I am NOT a professional art tutor. I just love art. 🤗

#hazy outlines: an impromptu Saturday art class #art #traditional art #see me trying to help people actually learn to draw properly… #this came to me like in a few hours ago #sorry for my mini rant #art rant #*edited

[rarepears]

Hey, you have broadened my horizons. These AUs are great. I'm pretty sure I followed a LiuShen post to you.

I was hoping you or your followers might be able to rec me some good Shen Jiu fics, even SY is SJ. Preferably a Fix-It, as long as it's not Hurt/No Comfort and not BingQiu. I'm open to just about any other/no pairing. I just really want to see SJ's life change for the better.

Here's some of my recs in no particular order:

The Love Letter by shorimochi (Gōngyí Xiāo/Shen Jiu)

To A Life (Never) Forgotten by VermilionRain (Shen Jiu/Tianlang Jun; also I recommend their entire Memories Remembered series)

saviour by RitaWrites (Shen Jiu/Mu Qingfang)

A Well Wherein Serpents Are Coiled by Nighthaunting (Protagonist here is Shang Qinghua aka Airplane but the end pairing is Shang Qinghua/Shen Jiu/Mobei Jun so I'm going to recommend it.)

Regretting you by hasa3810 (another one of those Shen Jiu travels back in time with his memories and decides to not join Cang Qiong)

Residing over autumn leaves by hasa3810 (Shen Qingqiu actually did suffer a qi deviation that erased his memories and then everyone gets a crush on Shen Jiu.)

we should stick together by pennydaniels (Shen Jiu/Liu Qingge; Shen Jiu leaves Cang Qiong to become Liu Qingge's bride)

forever and ever and ever and ever by pennydaniels (another Shen Jiu/Liu Qingge)

There is ruin and decay (--In the House on the Hill) by llamallamaduck (Orochimaru becomes Shen Jiu's teacher!!)

The Hidden Flower (隐花) by demoniqt (Shen Jiu finds himself in the past so he decides to create his own sect)

By the Stroke of a Brush by Araceil (Shen Jiu/ Tianlang Jun)

Spread your Wings by Araceil (Shen Jiu/ Tianlang Jun)

Fair Trade by 00janeblonde (A very very different Shen Jiu joins Cang Qiong)

autumn hazes, forges sparks by ectocosme (Wei Qingwei/Shen Jiu)

The Father-In-Law Is Unknowingly the Bride? I Must Train Hard to Become Best Husband! by munyusz (Ok, I know you said no Bingjiu, but THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE. Luo Binghe is still a white fluffy sheep and timetraveler!Ning Yingying is making sure that Shen Jiu doesn't do anything too extreme. It all somehow ends up with a happy ending.)

I highly recommend you search the #Shen Jiu's Good End Festa 2021 tag on ao3 for more. Plus I've written some Shen Jiu oneshots which you can find here: SVSSS drabbles and oneshots by fox23.

Happy reading!

#ask #recs #fic recs #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #svsss #scumbag self saving system #scum villain #ao3 #rarepears recs

[gone-with-the-rhys]

Just some lil thoughts

Pairing: David and Angel (I am nothing if not a lover of these two)

Warnings: Light swearing, but nothing else I don’t think.. (This is lightly proofread so that may also need to be a warning ahdjhf)

Summary: David feels stuck and if he’s at all honest he feels like a goddamn mess, that is until he meets a certain flirtatious little shit. 

          David Shaw was always hoping that time would just stop, for even just a second. He felt like he was constantly in a loop of working, eating, and sleeping, and if he was at all honest, it was killing him. 

          He knew becoming the Alpha of one of the most well known packs in Dalia would come with some complications, but he couldn’t get a break anymore. With the pack meetings, the security firm, and Asher living solely to stress him out, he felt breathless, like he had been running for years. It felt like a wicked dream, one where he was forced to run forever to catch up with everything but he was running in slow motion, and solace and calm were just out of his reach.

          He thought about his childhood a lot, the idea of running around with his friends just being free felt so foreign now. He knew it was a glorified version, the “freedom” he liked to reminisce on was most likely Asher breaking his arm falling out of a tree that he’d told him not to climb, or Marie shouting lovingly meant words of abuse every time one of them got hurt. He’d remembered those moments through the toughest damn rose colored glass his brain could possibly create, but by god did it work. He loved what he did, and he was damn proud of his pack and his firm for the work they did, but he would trade all of that success for one moment to be 15 again, spending time with his dad, Ash, and Milo as they sat around a campfire, or ran together on the moon bound solstice. 

          His life felt like it had a vice grip on him. He didn’t have time to feel anything or even think about himself and what he wanted. Not David Shaw the Alpha, or the leader, he wanted nothing more than to be “just David” for 20 goddamn minutes. 

          So, he took a day off to do some shopping. One of his shirts had gotten a hole in it as he was working and he damn near broke everything in his and Ash’s apartment over it, so he decided that today, he would take a break. He doubted it would last the whole day as he couldn’t really stop thinking about some paperwork he had to turn in soon, but a few hours was all he needed. 

          Of course, these few hours couldn’t just be normal for him. He felt eyes everywhere, running a security firm came with its perks of seeing everyone of some type of potential threat, and that wasn’t helped by the fact that someone was most definitely following him. He noticed them the first time as they were in front of him in line to check out at some random clothing store. They had headphones in, he thought it was obnoxious. However, when they took their headphones out as they checked out, he noticed their kindness directed to the retail worker at the counter, it felt like the two had been friends for years with the way they bounced off of each other. It was an intriguing interaction to say the least.

          The second time he noticed them, they walked into the next store he had gone into. They radiated such confidence as they walked, he couldn’t lie, it was attractive. They donned a simple outfit with a pair of black boots that he thought must make them a couple inches taller than they would’ve been otherwise. He realized he was starring as someone came up to ask if he needed a fitting room. He turned down the offer, and looked back down at the shirt he held in his hands. “Are they fucking following me?” he contemplated. He put the shirt back down and left the store without another moment of hesitation. 

          He’d wished for the sake of his own sanity that he hadn’t seen them again, or maybe that he had just gone home and never thought of this alluring person that was most definitely following him now. 

          He went around two more stores, seeing them in each one of them, he had damn near lost his mind by the time they had filed into the line at the fast food restaurant he was in line at. That stupidly attractive outfit was becoming a trigger for complete and utter paranoia. He clenched his fists as he whipped around,

“Why are you following me?”

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

          He’d ended up spending thirty minutes at a table with some random human who couldn’t seem to stop being flirtatious for 15 seconds even if it was just to take a bite of their meal. He was pretty convinced that it was just some sort of weird coincidence that they kept ending up in the same places. He didn’t believe in fate and he told them as much, but as he drove home with their number sat oh so temptingly in his phone he began to question everything he thought he knew. 

            David thought back to this morning when he drove aimlessly hoping that time would just stop and he could just feel like a normal person, and for thirty minutes, his wishes had been granted even if it was alongside one of the most stressful people he had ever met. He was just David and they were just the Angel that came down from a heaven he didn’t believe in to guide him to break down those walls he had built so high that they had almost become impenetrable.

#everyone say thank you caelum #david and angel #redacted david shaw #redacted david and angel #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted shaw pack #redacted fanfic #redacted headcanons

[fleetsparrow]

@about-faces said:

Including Tec? I think what’s happening in that run is really darkly beautiful and hopeful. Unless you specifically mean Chip’s Batman run, in which case, I fully agree.

Honestly, I think I'd probably be more into it if it didn't seem like the most recent in a long series of never-ending crises that get rebooted every few years.

As an Elseworlds or an Imaginary Story? Hell yeah, sign me the fuck up.

But as current/concurrent canon? I'm fucking exhausted, mate.

But then, I have felt the same for years. Because when I got back into comics, it was Nu52, Court Of Owls, and Forever Evil (in... whatever order they happened in, I can't remember). Then it was Rebirth. Then it was another fucking crossover event where everyone died or lost their personalities with no explanation or payoff. Then another one.

Tbh, not specifically related, but I think that's why I'm also so baffled by the hate that people have for Wayne Family Adventures fans. Like, it's not canon. It's more or less an Elseworld. Everyone can still go back to the current canon when they want to see people killing each other and making shitty life choices that get erased in a year or fuck up things for everyone else. But why harsh the buzz of people who are tired of fighting every single day for a hint of joy in their escapist hero media actually finding that joy and having fun? Like, who is it hurting, in the grand scheme of things?

I felt the same way during the Grayson run, when I was one of the few Tumblr people who was reading and overall enjoying the book. People were so angry over it, where every new decision was destroying their faves, every fan of the comic was obviously a Fake Fan, and people were straight up harassing the creators on Twitter over comics that, let's remember, had been submitted and done months before publication.

Like, I get it. Comics are frustrating! It's very hard to be a fan of a living media that changes with every new writer or editing team!

But, like, man, it is so much harder than it needs to be sometimes.

And like, I get it from both sides. On one hand, yes, there's absolutely a space for publishers to put out darker stories, just as with brighter stories. It's when everything still feels beholden to the grimdark of Frank Miller et al, AND when openly enjoying the more fun stuff gets one called not a real fan or somehow what's "ruining" fandom, that it gets exhausting.

Which is really a long and rambling way of saying, yeah, I mean ???

I just think at this point, I'm going to start waiting for trades of runs instead, though.

#fleet reads #fleet gets personal #i have a lot of opinions on comics #and storytelling and escapism and fandom in general

[finexbright]

❄️ hi again!! to answer two of your questions, no, i’ve sadly never seen snow, because i live in maharashtra! :( how about you? oh and also if you don’t mind, what timezone are you in? because you mentioned you moved away? i’m pretty sure i have the epub version of all the bright places, what’s it about though? i’ve forgotten 💀 oh and if you like YA dystopia, i’d recommend “all that’s left in the world” by erik j brown, it’s really good and i remember enjoying it. as for fics, i am forever a zarah5 supremacist, she is fucking amazing beyond words. my favourite fic of all time is “pull me under” by her, it’s got EVERYTHING. what about you? question for you - what is one thing off your bucket list that you’ve completed?

OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT - LOUIS!!!!! HE IS SO FLUFFY!!!!!!!!! usually i’m not affected whenever new pics come out even though everyone is freaking out, but this time, with the rough trade pics, i was truly speechless. how does he just? LOOK like that? is that even real? is that allowed? is this real? is he an angel?? YES YES YES he is 😭😭 his eyes, his clean shaven face, his expressions, his smiles, aaaaaa i can’t take this 😫😫 love to see you freaking out too lmao

anyway hope you had a good day!! 💕

helloooo bby 🤍

i have seen snow! but it was ages ago when we went up to kashmir and some places in the himachal. it was too cold and freezing but a good experience 🤍 ooh you live in maharashtra, i have quite a few relatives there!! i'm currently in the uk so timezone would be gmt (5.5 hours behind you)

all the bright places, without giving spoilers, is basically about two depressed teens working together on a school project. it sounds bad, but it is very lovely! i will for sure add all that's left in the world to my reading list ✨

ooh yeah i remember reading their fics, they do have some good ones! my favourite fic would be tired tired sea and that's mostly because scotland has always been my dream place and it just embodies it so well 🤍

as for bucket list, always wanted to go to a 1d concert, but then hiatus happened, so i was like okay that's alright, solo concert then, and i got to see louis and harry earlier this year and louis was my first concert ever and it was such a good time ✨ what about you? what's one thing from your bucket list you've done?

oh my god don't even get me started on louis like he looked so soft all day only for us to be hit with that scruffy look and i was like??? sir please calm down i'm gonna have a whiplash

also! do you like hot chocolate? 👀

#holiday pal ❄️

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

#damian wayne smut #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne x you #robin smut #robin #dc smut #dc comics #dc #user uncouth

[sleepy-dreamers-inc]

Going to School with Ranboo!|| 📌

[i was going to answer this but i was a big dummy dum dum and accidentally deleted the ask bUT I REMEMBERED YOU DEAR ANON]

irl / in-game

Genre| fluff and (minor) angst

h e a d-c a n n o n s||

Sypnosis|

You and Ranboo go to school together, so have some scenarios and thoughts about it!!

Artist| grapeichie on twitter!!

warnings| bullying, stress, swearing

Note: you are a streamer in this!! You are also in the SMP!

optional platonic or romantic!!

- so going to school with Ranboo is both amazing and weird. You two have tons of stories of the dumb shit that happened there.

- Nobody will ever find Y/N and Ranboo far apart, even if you guys dont share classes one of you will randomly appear and at this point no one questions it

- Both of you meeting up at eachothers classroom/locker to walk together to your next destination

- Both of you helping eachother with schoolwork, Ranboo would totally tutor you in any subject you struggle with. Both of you go to his house but you two end up getting bored, so he does a Facecam stream with you in the background vibing. (It was so much fun)

- You guys are both the teacher’s favorites and least favorites. You both add so much life to the school but thats the exact problem.

- Y/N: haha look at that high waisted man he got feminine hips!!

Ranboo: NOOOO THATS THE THING HE’S SENSITIVE ABOUT

That Poor Teacher:

- I can totally imagine some kids in your school being invested in the SMP and both of you just nervously sweat in the background. Bonus points if ya’ll’s friends are into it so its just absolute panic

- You trying to help him not be awkward, especially when it comes to talking to new people. I can totally see like a new girl trying to talk to him and he just panics, so you have to step in and explain and help the poor boy out.

- You two are like,, inseparable. Like literally rarely does anyone see you guys apart. So this kinda urks some people who have crushes on him, or literally just your stereotypical bully.

- So one day while you we’re grabbing things for your next class, someone slammed against the locker next to yours, slamming yours shut in the process.

“Well well well, if it isnt the clingy one. Im surprised your not with that dork, you two practically don’t function without the other.” The guy snickered, leaning forward directly in Y/N’s face.

“And how is that any of your concern? And why does it matter?” Y/N said, standing straight up staring at the guy. “Because your fucking pathetic, thats why. Your useless without him and both of us know it.” He spat, pushing Y/N to the floor with a thud, they’re books crashing to the ground around them. Snickers could be heard from around them, as well as gasps and ‘oh-no’s’.

“Awww whatcha gonna do now, freak? You gonna go cry to that loser? Because i have a better idea. Your gonna shut up, and if not, he gets hurt.” The boy said, picking Y/N up by the collar of they’re shirt, and soon slamming them back into the lockers. All he did was laugh and walk away, muttering “pathetic, good for nothing freak.”

- You went home by yourself that day, usually Ranboo walks you home so you two can hangout, but you were nowhere to be seen. This went on for 2 weeks, and you practically avoided him at all costs, not wanting him to get hurt.

- But when he walked into school one day and saw Y/N being harassed by a group of people, he surely wasn’t the one hurt.

“Awww, cant move?” One said, twisting Y/N’s wrist even more, bruising they’re arm as they whimpered in pain. “Awww i think they’re gonna cry!!” Someone else chimmed in, one girl quickly said “better take a picture of this before the moments gone.” As she giggled, snapping a photo of you in the middle of being bullied.

“Delete it, and leave.” Ranboo said, looking down at the three who were currently tormenting you. You looked so sad yet happy, but you knew what was about to happen. “I thought i fucking told you not to tell him, guess your getting it.” The guy said, kicking your stomach and slamming you against the lockers.

You never in your wildest dreams expected Ranboo to punch someone, he was so sweet and charismatic, very passive and neutral. But now, your bully laid on the floor, a bloody nose, and Ranboo towering over him. “Dont. Touch. Them.” Ranboo snarled, leaning down and looking at the bully directly in the eyes.

- A fight soon broke out, leaving one guy with a black eye, bloody nose and a bruised arm and shoulder. Ranboo got suspended, but you left with him, not wanting to be at school and instead with him.

- While walking home he stopped, pulled off his white and black hoodie, put it on you, and soon enveloped you in a hug. Y/N return the favor, and all he said shakily was ‘i love you’

- God no one ever fucked with Y/N again everyone was scared spineless

- The entire SMP had a ‘bruh’ moment when you two told them. Of course Techno was very happy about Ranboo beating some kids up.

- But like back to happy stuff,,

- Kahoot? Idk if you guys play it in school but i do, and both you and Ranboo are such a power duo in Kahoot games

- Trading each others lunch because thats what duo’s like you two do, share with the homies

- Both of you being referees in sports because if other wise someone is going to accidentally get hurt

- You having to walk Ranboo to the nurses office after he got hit in the face with a basketball.

- The librarian does not like the fact you two cannot be quiet. You both are constantly cracking up and can never keep it down

- I know for a FACT one of you got your hands on the teacher’s computer, and i know one of you are playing memes during class while your Teacher is screeching

- All your teachers think both of you are cheating because you have synced brains and get every single answer the exact. same.

- Pulling some kind of huge end of the year prank

- Both of you speaking in zoomer language and not even your classmates have any idea what your saying

- I can see both of you accidentally writing/typing ‘pog’ into a essay/class assignment and your teacher being VERY confused

- Blasting fan-made songs about both of your guys characters and everyone liking them, and both of you are just giggling and smiling because they dont know

- Your friend group see you two doing something and they’re just like “ah shit, here we go again”

- Both of you going to school events only to ensue chaos and be idiots

- On the first day one of you getting lost and the other having to go fetch the other one

- Both of you crashing at the others house to study but it probably didnt go well

- You two are honestly just encased in your own little shared bubble, just vibing and being yourselves

- i feel like this is going on forever and most of it was just angst so I’ll go ahead and cut this off lol

a/n: TWO UPLOADS IN ONE DAY??? CALL ME GO-

Okay but in all seriousness i hope this was not total shit and actually pleasant to read. Idk i just feel like this bad

Anyways I promise I’ll get to working on pt. 2 of dad wilbur but i have some other requests i need to work on. But in the meantime simp for Ranboo and Wilbur okay bye

#ranboo x reader #ranboo imagine #ranboo fanfiction #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp x reader #mcyt imagine #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp x reader #dream smp imagine #dsmp fanfiction #dreamer posts ♠️

[baecvlt]

Hello hello! I looove your work! I was wondering if I could requests Kazuichi taking his best friend(or lover! Just thought friend would make it more interesting) on a late night car ride to test some adjustments he made to it, could end up with some steamy car sex? Hopefully this made sense! I've been craving this kind of fic

Car Sex: Kazuichi Soda x Reader

a/n: It’d be an honor to write this. Hope you enjoy! ALso VERY WELL ESTABLISHED FRIENDSHIP HERE + projecting my interests onto reader because I get selfish AND I feel like Kaz listens to rock/alt/indie music. K byeee. ALSO READER IS FEM, pls specify next time

It was a Friday night, you were out for dinner with your best friend, Kazuichi Soda. You were glad to finally get out the house. It got lonely, plus you got to catch up with him and see him personally. He offered to pay for your meal, you allowed it since this time you were tight on money. As he paid, you notice he was excited about something.

“I know this is so last minute,” he began,“But I was wondering if you’d come back to the shop with me”

You nodded, but remained curious. “Of course, I’ll go, but why?”. He leaned toward you and he was excited. His leg was shaking and hands slightly shaking. “I’m finally finished with my car!,” he cheered,“I want you to be the very first to join me for a test drive!”. You smiled. Kazuichi had been working on this car since high school. He almost gave up on it too, so you were happy he never gave up on it. “Of course I’ll go!,” you told him, just as cheerful as he was. You both has walked to the restaurant, now walked back to the shop.

His family was there, closing the shop up. You obviously greeted them. He walked right past them and to the garage. A sheet was on top of the car. Once you were in the room, he walked towards it. He grabbed the sheet, doing a small countdown. “3..2..1-”. He yanked the sheets off, revealing a new and improved car. “So, what do ya think?”. You were excited with him now. “Jesus, the paint job on this is amazing!,” you said to him. “‘May have taken me my whole high school and half my college experience to finish it, but it was worth it!”.

“Totally”

“What do ya say? Should we take it out for a spin”

“You don’t have to ask me twice”

He cheered quietly, opening the passenger door for you and hopping into the driver’s side. He opened the garage door, pulling out of the driveway. He had only driven down the street and you saw how nervous he was. You grabbed his hand, he gasped when you did. “Hey, I’m sure the car is fine, don’t stress out”. He smiled, putting his arm around you. You relaxed laying back. You drove around for about half an hour, going up some hill to a mountain. “Where are we going?,” you asked him.

“We’re gonna look at the stars”

“Ooo, nice”

He parked by the edge of the mountain. It was weird because no other cars were to be seen. Usually there were. “By the way, I wanna show you the coolest thing here,” he said, opening the glove compartment. He took out a CD, Slowdive's 1993 album Souvlaki, and revealed he had a working stereo. "Holy shit, it works?," you were excited. He nodded, popping in the CD. "I love Slowdive," you mumbled. He smiled, chuckling a little.

"I know. You were listening to it the day we met"

"Oh! I was...Yeah, I remember you came up to me that day. You were so awkward"

"Right? God, I feel like I acted like a douche"

"You were like,'Hey, we shouldn't be able to hear your music'"

"Yeah, yeah. Then you were all,'Oh, sorry!'. Then, I was like,'Don't worry, but anyway, Slowdive, huh?'"

You both laughed. "God, I felt that you were trying to hit on me that moment," You told him,"But you're just...you're really nice". Smiling, he shook his head. "Do you miss high school?," he asked. You thought about it for a moment. Did you? "You know what," you began,"Partially". He was confused. "What do you mean?".

"Well, we all had good times in high school. We had good friends, all those memories. We've kinda drifted away, but that's why I partially miss it"

"So why don't you?"

"I felt like I didn't belong"

He looked at you sympathetically. "You all had an established talent. I didn't," you told him,"Sometimes, I still wish I hadn't gone". Hearing you say so saddened him. "But you're good at a lot," he said,"You were better than everyone there". "You're just saying--".

"No! I swear, you are talented at a lot. It was just never put into one thing. You aren't alone either. Hajime never had an exact talent, Nagito won a lottery...you belonged there just as anybody else. You are a Jack of All Trades—"

"—Master of None."

"NO! You are the master of all!"

You smiled. "I care so much about you. I'm really glad we met. I just know that if we hadn't met my life wouldn't be the way it is now...," he said,"So, please, never say that again! You belonged there". You lay back in your seat, trying not to cry. For the first time in forever you felt like you had a place in the world, it felt weird, but not bad. You weren't used to feeling important. "Are you even happy with your life?". He looked at his thumbs when you asked him that. You were afraid of his answer, you didn't know why, but you were.

"There are somethings I wish I didn't have to deal with, but when I think about you, I realize that it's all worth dealing with...and that makes me the happiest man in the world"

"Kaz..."

He said your name, his voice low when he did. It interrupted anything you wanted to say next and your thoughts were racing. "I..I—". He sighed. You knew whatever he had to say next was not easy for him to spit out. "You know how important this car is was for me, it took up my entire high school year to work on. I know I had fun doing it, but I didn’t build it for me,” he sputtered and you could tell he was nervous,“I made this car so that...so that I'd have something to impress you with the day I had the courage to tell you how I really feel about you. I love you and I have for so long. I don't see myself being with anyone else and I wanted you to think of me as the coolest guy you'd ever met and now you probably think I'm a chump–"

You launched yourself towards him, attacking his lips and you felt his skin radiating. He felt as if he had been kissed by an angel. "I love you too, Kaz," you whispered. You really did. Crawling onto his lap, you pushed his hair back. "I wish it hadn't taken you so long to tell me," you added, frowning,"We could have done all these cute high school couple things, then moved onto adult couple things". He kissed you this time, his hands on your hips as you nibbled his bottom lip. He managed to move you both to the passenger side in order to prevent your back setting the horn off. He stopped for a minute.

"'Adult couple things'?"

"Yeah"

"Well, we're adults now, aren't we? And who says we're too old to do what high schoolers do"

"You're not wrong either...but are you interested in doing adult things with me?"

He blushed and looked away for a minute,"I, uh- I've never done it before. I was waiting do it with someone who loves me, y'know? But- you love me, right?". You laughed, nodding. He laughed too, shaking his head as he reached up your skirt, his calloused and rough hands rubbing your thighs. "Hoh-okay, you asked for it". He leaned forwards to kiss you, grabbing the waistband of your panties as his tongue entered your mouth. He pulled them down, allowing you to remove the rest by making his seat go further back. You kicked them off, going to unzip his jeans and pull those down too along with his boxers. He was already rock hard and made you throb just looking as his cock. It was slightly above average in both length and girth, but what did you expect from a dork like him?

You took off your entire skirt before climbing right back into his lap right after pulling them down, he smirked and lowly praised you: "Good girl". He kissed you a little more before he grabbed his cock, ready to guide it inside you. "You ready?". You were shaking, but uttered a soft,"Yes...". Before he could, the Slowdive song you were listening to when you first met started playing and you knew this was meant to happen. You melted when he heard it too. It means it meant something to him and it meant as much to him as it meant to you. "You remember this song, baby?". He pressed light kisses on your forehead as you nodded. You felt his tip at your entrance and you whined. "W-Wait! Kaz, please be careful," you begged. He nodded and kissed you again. "I'll be soft," he reassured you,"Besides, I want to take my time with you. Okay?". You took a breath and relaxed.

"Okay"

"Uh, wait- I should probably ask. Did you wanna do this laying down? I don't think it's fair if you're on top during our first. Plus, I don't want your back to hurt"

"Y-Yeah, my back was starting to ache a little"

He nodded, putting the seat all the way back, now mimicking a bed. You switched positions, spreading your legs for him. He put the volume on the stereo almost all the way up before picking your legs up. He positioned himself again, pushing in just the tip. You gasped quietly, breaking into a very sweet moan as he pushed in all the way, groaning lustfully. He repeatedly pushed in: deep, but slow. He only felt his erection grow harder seeing you blush. Your little moans and soft whimpers when he'd hit that one spot you thought only you would be able to reach made him twitch inside you. He tried to keep his composure, but your walls constantly pumping him made it almost impossible. He leaned forward, desperately trying to kiss you. You could've melted right then and there, seeing how this man made love to you. "I-I love you..," he whispered against your lips. God, he was so cute too.

"I love you too, Kaz, but this is a little too slow now"

"Please, tell me what you need"

"I want you fuck me harder"

"Whatever you say, princess"

His thrusts went from "slow and deep" to "abrupt and very deep". "Like that?". You kissed him in response, grabbing his hair and pushing his head to you. His hips snapped inside you, making it harder to control your breathing. At this point, the windows as fogged up, making the air around you hot. He grabbed your breast, massaging them. You did him the favor of unbuttoning your blouse. You grabbing his hand and slipped it under your bra. "They're so pretty and warm," he mumbled. You could tell he didn't want you to hear that from how low he said it, but you heard it well. He pulled your bra down to your torso, ducking his head down to be able to suck on your breasts a little. "K-Kaz! I'm really sensitive there!". He didn't respond, so entertained by your boobs, knowing playing with them made you feel good.

Your stomach was in knots and it was hard to hold anything anymore.

It took one really hard thrust, making you squirt. He didn't even know it could do that. You didn't cum all the way through, making it uncomfortable now. You felt like you were being edged. "Kaz, it doesn't feel good anymore".

"Do we stop?"

"No, no! Just...I need to cum"

"I'll get you there"

His hands went back to your hips, slamming into you fast and deep. Your body trembled, shaking as he hit your sweet spot again and again and again. "Is this okay?," his voice husky as he was nearing his orgasm too. You nodded, whining. "I-It feel so good..please don't stop," you cried,"It's so good!..". He went faster, grunting softly. You were near crying, about to release. "Are you gonna cum?". He was just as impatient as you were.

"I'm cumming, I-I'm cumming"

"I can't last anymore. C-Can I cum inside?"

"Please, baby"

He groaned you name, shooting his load in you. You knew it was a lot too, feeling it when you moved. He pulled out, laying on the other seat lazily. You were still so turned on, pumping your two fingers in and out of you, securing his cum inside you. "Good girl". You picked your braw up to cover your chest since it was getting cold. "You look so pretty," he added. You were blushing as he helped you with your clothes. Naturally, you helped him with his. "I hope this is a good time to ask, but...". "Yes?"

"I want you to be my girlfriend"

"I'm so glad you do. Yes, Kazuichi, I'll be your girlfriend!"

"Yes! Fuck Yes! Oh god, I'm so happy!"

You kissed his cheek, making him become even more giddy as he wrapped his arm around you and drove you to his home. Kissing on his bed, he hugged you tightly afterward as you shushed him to sleep.

#danganronpa #kazuichi danganronpa #kazuichi soda #kazuichi souda #kazuichi soda x reader #kazuichi souda x reader #kazuichi soda smut #kazuichi souda smut #kazuichi smut #smut #x reader

[unloved-cadillac]

I love you works!! I have a request for a Soulmate AU with Levi! Where you’re born seeing gray and once you meet your soulmate you can see colors but also when one dies the colors go away and you see gray again. Well his S/O gets badly injured one day and while trying to save her his vision goes gray so he is completely distraught but something happens and he’s able to make her heart start again so his colors are back but he’s still upset for awhile and once she recovers he’s super protective of her because he never wants to see gray again.

C/n: I fucking love soulmate AUs man. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

——————————————————————————

Never Again. (Levi x Reader)

The day Levi met Y/n, his whole world brightened up. No, literally. All his life until the moment he met her, he saw grey. The black and white world seemed so cold and to hate him. He never really understood the way of a soulmate, thought it was a load of crap.

But on that fateful day, when he helped the cadets and made eye contact with her, his world brightened up. Beautiful colors flowed throughout the fields and Y/n saw color too. He took Y/n away from everyone and asked if she could see color too. And when she nodded, Levi so desperately wanted to kiss her. But they had just met, so the kiss waited until they knew each other properly.

Now, 3 years later with his soulmate next to him, the squad was on a mission to clear the Titans from the west of the wall. “Keep your heads up! These fuckers appear outta nowhere.” Y/n says and Levi smirks. She even acts like him. Y/n’s half split away from Levi’s and she shot him a wink before leading the squad. He rolled his eyes but smiled at her affection.

Abnormals suddenly appeared and everyone got to work. Levi slayed four while others paired to take down one each. Before long, their side was cleared and were heading to Y/n’s side. As he rode, a feeling bubbles up inside him. A feeling he has never felt in all his years. A gut-wrenching pain that made him want to vomit. ‘Is Y/n okay?’

“Captain Levi! Captain Levi!” A soldier yells as he rides towards Levi. “What is it?”

“It’s L/n, sir. A titan caught her and were lucky enough to take it down. But she isn’t in good shape, sir.” Levi’s eyes widen and slapped the reins on his horse. He flew straight to her as fast he the horse would take him. ‘Fuck. This cannot be happening. Not again.’

Levi saw a group of soldiers surround his love and he pushes them aside as he looked at her. “Y/n? Y/n, hey. It’s me.” He speaks and cups her face. “L...Le...vi.” She groans out and he looks at her injuries. He was about to speak when his vision began to alter. Some spaces around him turned grey and he get his heart stop. “No. No, help her. Get the med kit!” He shouts to the cadets and then turns back to her, “Y/n, baby. Stay with me. Keep talking to me.” He begs as he holds her wounds. She just stares back him with droopy eyes and Levi quickly began to wrap her up in bandages the cadets brought.

“Hey,” he says a bit harshly, “do NOT fall asleep on me. Don’t you dare.” Y/n smiles and holds his frantic hands. “I..lo...ve y-you.” She whispers and he shakes his head, eyes burning with tears. “I’ll say it back when you’re in bed, healing. Don’t close your eyes, baby. Stay with me. Please.” No one has ever heard the Captain Levi’s voice falter before. But when it’s life and death and when it came to his soulmate, nothing really mattered except for her.

As Levi was helping her, everything turned dark.

He picked his head up and everything was black and white. “No.” He whispers and looks down at Y/n. He placed his hand on her chest. He didn’t feel it. Her heartbeat. The song that played which helped him sleep. The rhythm he feel in love with.

“Y/N! Don’t you fucking dare!” He yells out and begins compressions. This sight..this grey. It was like a nightmare. He didn’t want this. He couldn’t live without her. “28, 29, 30!” Levi presses his ear against her chest. No pulse. “Fucking GODAMMIT Y/N!”

In his rage he bangs her chest with his fist and lays his forehead on her. “Don’t leave me.” Levi whispers and cries. After silence falls upon them, he hears it.

Badump. Badump. Badump.

It’s faint. So faint. But Levi could hear it. When he opened his eyes, color was back.

“She’s alive. Get the cart! She’s alive!” He screams and two cadets brought the cart. Levi picked her up and sat with her as they rode home. She was breathing and her heart was beating. Now he needed to keep it that way.

~~~~

Levi stood watch as Hange fixed Y/n’s wounds. A large gash was sewed up and bandages were everywhere but it didn’t bother Levi. What did bother him was the fact that he saw grey in this life with you. It shook him to the core. It scared him.

Hange stood in front of Levi as she wiped her hands. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?” She asks and he doesn’t answer. Levi just stared at your unconscious body and Hange nods. “She’ll be fine. Stay with her. I heard it’s better if soulmates are with each other when one is healing.” She pats his shoulder and everyone leaves.

Levi makes his way to her side and holds her hand. “Y/n? I know you can hear me, brat.” He squeezes your hand and then sighs. “I think I just experienced the scariest moment in my life.

“Ever since I’ve met you, my life has been so colorful. You and your stupid jokes, the weird things you say and do. But I wouldn’t trade you for anything. And when I stopped seeing color today...when everything went dark...I thought I was going to lose you. God.” Levi wipes a fallen tear. “But enough of my mellowing. Get some sleep, princess. I’ll be right here. Right by your side.”

~~~~

When Y/n woke up, Levi was there for everything that she needed. She couldn’t even remember what exactly happened but it changed Levi. Her usually stoic boyfriend who hated PDA stuck by her and gave her unexpected kisses, hugs and everything in between. It was nice but she didn’t understand why.

That night, Levi brushed her hair before bed. She watched him in the reflection of the mirror and his eyebrows were furrowed and he was muttering to himself.

“Baby?” Y/n calls and he looks at her. “Yeah? You okay? Need something?” Y/n smiles at his questions. “I’m fine. But,” she turns and faces him, “are you?”

“What do you mean?” Y/n takes the brush out of his hands and cup his face.

“You know what I mean. You’ve been acting different lately. Don’t get a wrong, I love how you kiss me in front of everyone and stuff but it’s not...you. You’ve been acting differently. Why?”

Levi sighs and leans into her touch. He leads Y/n to the bed and lays down with her on his lap. It takes him a while and he wanted to avoid answering since he played with her hands but he did.

“You...said that you loved me on the field. Do you remember that?” She shook her head. “You said that, then I started to bandage you up. Suddenly,” he pauses for a second,

“My whole world went dark, Y/n. Your heart stopped and everything went grey.” She gasps softly and Levi hugs her. “I vowed to you and to myself that that would never happen again. I never want to see grey again. I felt that if you died then, I would walk right into a Titans mouth because right knew I wouldn’t survive without you.”

Y/n sighs and holds him tighter. She knows that he was scared, she would’ve been too. Right now, all Levi needed was to be held by her. Just to make sure his color wouldn’t disappear again.

——————————————————————————

“You are my cinema. I could watch you forever.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #captain levi #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot fanfiction #levi heichou #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #captain levi fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #snk levi #levi aot

[jonspurpleskirt]

Sharing Comfort

A/N: This is for @archivalpride. Prompt was “Sharing Clothes” and “Pre-Canon” so I wrote a fluffy piece to celebrate the quiet moments of trust. 1.7k in word length. No warnings apply.

___

Jon did not make friends fast. Most people he found to be too intimidating, boring or exhausting and not many knew what to do with his sudden info dumps and sharp comments that shot out of his mouth seemingly at random.

He'd been alone in Research for a long while because of it and happily so. Things had changed when Tim had joined the Institute, though. Tim had come into the library and sat down opposite Jon with a thunder cloud hanging over his head and pain in his dark eyes. He'd been quiet and snappy in a fake cheerful way that screamed undealt trauma. At least to Jon, who seemed to be the only one to feel the vibes of "Leave me alone" and "I'm grieving" that Tim gave off in a constant stream.

Having Tim as his desk partner was an intense experience despite the way they only ever nodded to each other in greeting at first. But it was also intriguing. A mystery. Jon loved mysteries.

The instances he had ever willingly initiated a conversation with a stranger could be counted on one hand. Which marked the day he tapped Tims shoulder - after roughly two months of co-habiting - to tactfully ask him what he was groaning about as a very special day indeed. They steamrolled into friendship from there, both personalities clashing in the best ways possible.

Jon pulled Tim into nerve wracking research expeditions, Tim flirted them out of being arrested a few times, they went out for drinks and karaoke and movies and stayed late nights to crack nutty cases of supernatural bullshit together.

This went on for months. A nice, comfortable new routine. Jon wasn't alone anymore. And Tim broke out of whatever had pulled him down so much, becoming more cheerful and flirty by the day. Which didn't matter to Jon because Tim would always come to him the most, would always seek out to partner up with Jon and would defend his prickly personality to his dying breath.

And then Sasha joined them. She came from Artefact Storage, which made her a prime target for every curious researcher in a five mile radius. Tim and Jon included. Alright maybe they were the worst of the bunch.

Although Jon only thought of himself as a partner in crime in this one. He had been dragged along by Tim, after all. Sure in the end he had been the one to ask the most questions, but that wouldn't have been the case if he had just been left alone to be antisocial in front of his laptop.

Sasha and Tim, much to Jons chargin, hit it off within the first few seconds. And ever since then their cozy two-someness had turned into a group effort. With specially leverage put on the word "effort".

"Morning Jon!"

Jon let out a deep, rumbly hum, voice not up to the task of supporting words this late in the- He glanced at the little clock at the bottom of his screen. Ah... early in the morning.

With a laugh that was far too cheerful however you would describe the current hour, Sasha sat down next to him. She leaned in to look at what he was working. He leaned away to get her out of his personal bubble.

Her legs brushed his and the rustling drew his gaze downward. She wore a thick wool skirt, long enough not to go against the dress code. It was a somewhat dull navy blue and fell down in enticing waves around her crossed legs.

It looked very soft and comfortable. Jon itched to touch it. Instead he rubbed against the stiff fabric of his own cream coloured dress pants.

"Would you mind?" He snapped at her.

"No. You spelled 'aboriginal' wrong."

"Thank you for your insight. Don't you have anywhere else to be?"

"Don't you?" She shot back, light and quick as though they were just bantering and not fighting over the right to sit at this table.

Sasha huffed at his glare and slid a cup of something steaming over to him. "You keep staying so late that I can buy you a drink at the asscrack of dawn and be sure you're still here to consume it hot. I'm not usually one to judge anyone's sleep schedule. But I'm judging your sleep schedule."

"And yours is any better?" Jon muttered, taking the offering and peeking inside. Black tea with a bit of cream and hopefully enough sugar to rot his teeth out of his mouth. He needed both the coffein and the sweet energy source.

"I'm getting at least two more hours of sleep than you do on a daily basis, so I'm good."

"Tim would have both of our heads if he knew."

Sasha put her hand on the table and stretched out her pinky. "I swear secrecy if you do."

With a snort Jon linked their pinkies. "I'll hold you to that."

So... Maybe Sasha wasn't that bad. She was a little aggressive in her befriending techniques, Jon mused. At least he hoped the early morning chats and cups of tea and coffee were that and not an elaborate plan to get rid of him via slow poisoning. But she was about as curious as Tim and Jon and her skills with computers were very happily exploited by the both of them. So Jon eventually had to admit that she was actually a very nice addition to the group.

Not that he could have ever said no to their friendship. Tim and Sasha put together were a maelstorm of affection, sucking Jon in with a force he had no chance to defend against. And before he knew it they had successfully gotten him accostumed to friday nights at the pub and saturday mornings in their flats, smashed together on a couch or a bed or a mattress depending on who had had the misfortune of playing host that week.

Jon hadn't been this comfortable since Georgie. And that wasn't only the booze talking. It was one of those nights where they ended up leaving the pub early to lounge around Sashas massive sofa instead. Jons head was swimming within a blissful haze of tipsiness.

He was slouching over one end of the couch, head tilted just so that he could watch his two friends bicker. The words didn't really register, but the noise was nice and their expressions were funny.

Without his conscious saying so, his gaze slid down to Sashas leg area. She wore a very eye catching, fluttery red skirt this time around and the way the warm glow of the ceiling lamp was reflected in the material was mesmerizing.

"Oh Jonny boy, don't you know staring like that is rude?" Tim half-joked as he noticed.

Sasha slapped him on the shoulder. "Shush you there's like zero sexual longing in his gaze, Tim. You don't need to go all protective big brother on me. He just really likes my skirts."

"They look comfy." Jon muttered, sinking deeper into the couch.

"Awww. Jon. Jon my love. My friend. My buddy." Tim scooted over to him, nearly face planting on the floor in his eagerness to slide into Jons side. "Is this jealousy I hear?"

"No. Did you just degrade me from lover to lowest friendship tier?"

"Oh I beg to differ." Tim sang, ignoring the question and making Jon scowl harder.

An arm got thrown over his shoulder and Jon was tugged into Tims side, relaxing into the tight hold against his will.

"You know if you didn't make it a sport to buy the most uncomfortable clothing ever, you wouldn't need to glare at Sashas fashion choices all the time. Making other people think things about your intensions."

"Fuck other people."

Jon waited until the surprised laughter of his two friends ebbed down to speak again. "I wanna be comfortable too..."

"Say no more. Sasha to the rescue."

Tim and Jon both whined as she hopped off and darted away into her bedroom. She hadn't been part of the cuddle pile, but her presence was still dearly missed. Thankfully not for long because a few minutes later she reappeared with a long, purple skirt.

"Here you go mister. Go on try it on."

Trading places with her Jon didn't hesitate to shug his trousers off and slip the skirt on. Tim wolf whistled behind him and Jon dutifully showed him a finger. The yelp he heard shortly after told him that Sasha must have taken more direct approach to disciplining Tim.

"Bad boy. I picked that colour for a reason."

Jon flushed at the reminder that Tim and Sasha knew. That they knew and accepted him and even went out of their way to make him comfortable.

"I may not be allowed to touch, but I can still appreciate beauty when I see it."

"Do you need glasses, Tim?" Jon couldn't help but ask while he settled back down.

It was his turn to be slapped on the shoulder. "Nu-uh! No self depricating jokes in my household!"

"Yes ma'am." He scooted over to Sashas side, marveling at the slide of the soft material against his legs. "Anyway. Touching yes. But no sex, only cuddles."

Sasha laughed in delight as she pulled him closer so he could stretch out, the two of them nearly shoving Tim off the couch.

"Wait, wait, wait Jon you're definitely not comfortable yet!"

"Hm?" He frowned at the renewed shifting, jeez everyone was being so squirmy today.

"Dress shirt? Really? Wait a sec."

Tim ended up finding a truly attrocious night shirt he had stored in one of Sashas cupboards. It was rainbow coloured, but at least it was made of a soft cotton and about a size too big on Jon.

"Awww Jon you're adorable!"

"Timothy Stoker don't you dare take a photo."

"Fine, fine. But I will remember this day forever."

It turned out that he didn't need to. The next time they were over at Sashas Jon asked to borrow their clothes again and the next time after, and the next time after that, too. It kind of escalated from there, clothes mixed together until it was hard to remember who owned what.

And that was perfect. Because the most comfortable clothes were always the ones that belonged to his friends.

#tma #archivalpride #my writing #jontimsasha #jonathan sims #tim stoker #sasha james #week one #prompt: sharing clothes #hope i'm doing this right #can be read as friendship #or platonic polycule #i honestly have no clue where to draw the line #fanfic

[pleasantanathema]

Graves into Gardens | Reiner Braun x Reader | Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Sins of the Past

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Modern AU, spoilers up to season four, slight manga spoilers (only by including characters met later), captivity, mentions of violence, mentions of character death, enemies to lovers, angst, and eventual smut (don’t worry, it’ll come sooner than you think).

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: As promised, here’s chapter two! Chapter three will take a little longer to come your way as I have a final thesis due in a few days. Also, I promise that I’ll give answers to things that have happened in the past between Reiner and reader. Just gotta wait for the right time to reveal it all. 💕

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

          Reiner laid flat on his back, chest twisting with melancholy as he eyed the lazy ceiling fan. He couldn’t sleep even if he tried, not with the day’s events still so fresh in his mind. Everything happened too quickly, a whirling rush of movements and decisions that left him caught in a purgatory of past and present. When Zeke had kicked your head into the floor, Reiner instinctively put pressure on the trigger of the gun squeezed too tightly in his hand. He wondered if things would be easier if he had taken the situation into his own hands and not let you live to torment him another day.

           Though, he knew the ghost and the guilt would haunt him even more than your living presence.

           That saying was rolling around in his brain, the one his mother always used to recite whenever he’d get into mischief as a child, be sure your sins will find you out.

           Well, they had, and one of his biggest regrets was now asking him about fucking Marco Bott. How long had it been since he heard that name? The Scouts had stopped muttering it even before the boy’s blood ran cold. He still remembered the smell of gun smoke, remembered how Bertie had fallen into his chest and cried at the horror of it all.

           But there was nothing new to be said about that past, yet even still, Reiner feared that you already knew what had been left unsaid.

           He hadn’t even bothered to undress, just let his weight sink into his mattress until his restlessness got the better of him. He knew his agonies would call to be smothered, that his frustrations would lead to him marching down the same hallway to face the inquiries of an equally troubled mind.

           He debated going to Zeke first. He knew his comrades would still be up in the meeting room, sleep and disgust in their eyes. Last he checked in, the Chief had Bertie scribbling on the whiteboard as he threw out all the notions and ideas that they had on how to break you down, on what you could possibly know that would be of interest to them. Reiner hadn’t stayed long enough to watch the black ink dry—he didn’t want them to pry into his time with you. He’d told them just enough: you didn’t give him anything worthwhile other than admitting you might speak if you were fed information from their side as well. When he’d left, the last thing written out in bold letters was a list of lies to feed you.

           Reiner was going to end this shit. One way or another, you were going to disappear from his life again; he was going to throw you back into the sea of the past where you belonged, dead or alive.

           A sick pride boiled inside of him as he saw the shock and fear spread across your pretty face as he threw open the heavy metal door. Good, you should be scared of him.

           He spoke your name with a bitterness he’d become too familiar with, dragging a chair from against the wall to sit directly in front of your iron cage.

           He’d only been gone a few hours, yet you already looked more tired, a little more frail, like if he screamed too loudly you might melt into a puddle where you sat on the floor.

           Too much time alone with nasty thoughts can make you weak, that much he knew all too well.

           He cleared his throat, cracking his knuckles beneath his fist, “Listen to me. You talk now, and maybe I’ll be merciful and kill you quickly before the others get the chance to come pick at your bones.”

           “You know my stipulation, Braun,” he watched your eyes narrow, determination coating your voice, “answer my question and I’ll answer yours. Let me die knowing the truth about—”

           “There is no truth about Marco.”

           “I know you had something to do with it. I kept finding holes in your story, and now that I know who you really are, I have no doubt that there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

           An angry sigh rushed out of his nose. He didn’t know what he was thinking coming back here so soon, why did he ever suspect that you’d ease up on this issue? He should’ve known that all your disdain for him began when that idiot got himself killed.

           “Marco was cute and clumsy, you know that. He was in the wrong place at the wrong—”

           “No, he wasn’t!” you sat up on your knees, shackled hands shaking, “I trained that kid myself. I know he knew how to use his gear; I know he wouldn’t just…he couldn’t have gotten into that situation alone.”

           “You’re running out of time. Stop wasting your breath on something as useless as Marco Bott.”

           He could tell there were more words brewing in your mouth, but you were swallowing them down.

           Reiner leaned his elbows on his knees, burdensome back hunching as he debated what to do here. He watched you closely for a moment, saw how you were constantly shifting your weight, fidgeting with the cuffs around your wrists. Bruises were blooming on your skin, especially around the tender flesh of your fingers where he had crushed them earlier. A vile mixture of remorse and compassion spread down his nerves at the sight of you.

           “My friends don’t know I’m here,” he admitted, observing how your still brilliant eyes looked up at him.

           “I was once your friend, you know.”

           You spoke the words so slowly, so dolefully that he actually felt them begin to pierce at his heart.

           “We were never friends.”

           That much, he knew, was a lie.

━━━─── • ───━━━

          “Reiner,” your tongue pressed against the back of your teeth as you stared into his golden eyes. He felt dangerous, fingers mean against your flesh, digging into your thigh, petting at the column of your throat.

           But you felt protected, secure, your hands threatening to tear at the buttons of his shirt from how tightly you clung to him. You craved a comfort that you’d come to find from being pressed against his body.

           “I’d kill someone for you, I hope you know that.”

           You wondered if the same memory was playing in his mind, behind his older, more noble face. You felt them, the sins of your past, like a heavy string binding the two of you together in this cold room. You knew there were feelings you could tug on, emotions that could have you both tumbling to the floor and wishing that the past could be washed away. But there were too many scars, too many faults that bound you together, wounds that time could not heal.

           And you knew your time was running thin.

           Selfishness reared its ugly head. You wanted to live, you needed to get back to Paradis, back into the arms of the people you loved. You didn’t want to die because of your stubbornness, or out of some forged loyalty that you knew friends would even give up if it meant being together one last time.

           “We know about the arms trading,” you conceded, head hanging low.

           You heard his chair scrape against the floor as he sat to attention.

           “How?”

           You thought about all the carefully considered words that you’d played in your mind earlier. You couldn’t give too much, but you had to lay enough on the table to make yourself valuable, to perhaps make yourself trustworthy. You needed to sprinkle lies into the truth, give a little in hopes of taking a lot.

           “Not everyone knows. It has been an investigative project I’ve been working on with Erwin and Miche…” you sucked in a deep breath, eyes closing, “we only figured it out because it came up as we were inquiring into the legitimacy of the President of Paradis. We’re pretty sure he’s a pawn, that there’s some untouchable group of aristocrats pulling his strings and ruling the nation from the shadows.”

           You waited patiently to see if he had any remarks, but the brooding man before you stayed silent. You could feel the weight of his gaze, scrutinizing, curious, perhaps disappointed that you’d be willing to give away secrets so easily.

           “That’s what you can give to Yeager. Tell him that…tell him that I’m tired of working and killing for a government that I can’t trust, whose true intentions I don’t know. Tell him I’m willing to work with him.”

           “And why would he be interested in that? You’re much more valuable as an information source than an agent.”

           You finally lifted your face to him then, a bold trepidation creeping over your skin.

           It was now or never.

           “Reiner, what I have to say next is something I’ve saved only for you. You can do with it what you will, but I beg of you, be careful with it. This could hurt you as much as it could hurt me in the long run.”

           Part of you expected him to leave again, to bristle at the thought of hearing something he doesn’t want to know.

           But he stayed, brows wrinkling together as he studied you before him. You felt like a beggar at his feet, spreading out all you carried in hopes that it was enough to appease the executioner before you.

           “Tell me,” he demanded, “though I make no promises to keep it silent.”

           You felt your courage implode. You almost wanted to gobble up your information and let it rest inside you forever to be gnawed at by your conscience.

           But if there were any fragments left of the man you once knew, of the Reiner Braun who had once held you so dearly, you knew that he would latch on to your words.

           “Zeke—your war chief—is working with Paradis. He’s plotting something so devious that even Erwin can’t pinpoint what it is, but we are certain he has contacts within the government that go beyond securing weapons for Marley.”

           You took a moment to pause, to let what you were saying sink into that thick skull of his.

           “Reiner, something seriously fucked up is going to happen if we don’t figure out what’s happening. And what’s happening is bigger than us—it’s bigger than all the shit we’ve been through. Help me, or it will be more than just me dying.”

You surveyed him as he straightened his broad shoulders, rolling them like a predator who was examining his prey. You’d just offered your life to him, held it out on willing hands with perhaps irresponsible words.

           You held in a sob as he left wordlessly, leaving his empty chair behind.

━━━─── • ───━━━

           Reiner sat with his arms crossed, trying to keep his face neutral as he watched Bertie haphazardly stretch his long arms across the board to erase of their previous work, writings of threaten Erwin, reveal the past of Paradis, and remove the bucket so she can’t piss all being wiped away from thought. He wondered, for a moment, if his friends were idiots, or just wasting time because they knew he’d wander back into her orbit sooner or later.

           He’d come straight to them, of course, straight to his trusted comrades and announced he’d managed to pry your lips open.

           Sans torture, he had stressed to Galliard.  

           But he had sat on the real information you gave him, letting your confessions about Zeke fester in his mind.

          Part of him wanted to believe you; he’d always been wary of his superior officer, always knew that his cunning and depravity could lead them all down a path of no return one day. But another part of him thought you were toying with him, trying to manipulate his doubts and sow seeds of skepticism into his mind. You’d always been so capable of getting whatever you wanted, always had a charm for subtle exploitation.

          “How can we believe any of this?” Annie berated, lighting a cigarette in the room despite knowing it was against Zeke’s rules.

          “Because we know she’s close to Erwin, close to the brass that runs the Scout Police Force,” Reiner countered.

          “More like she has always been up his ass, probably in his fucking bed too.”

           Reiner didn’t like the image that flashed in his mind, didn’t like the thoughts of the Commander running his hands across your skin, of you tangled in his sheets. He chided himself, worried it was a jolt of jealousy, but at this point, he could never distinguish his emotions anymore.

          “Annie,” Zeke hushed her, finally taking a seat at the rounded table instead of pacing a hole into the floor, “everything she has said adds up. I’ve kept our arms trading as quiet as I can, but if those little rats were going around interrogating congressmen, then it’s very possible one of them squealed on our operations just to keep their puppet president in power.”

          “So, it’s true then?” Bertholdt chimed in, shaking a marker within his aching fingers as he paused from taking notes, “that the government of Paradis is basically a sham.”

          “I’m afraid so.”

          And how do you know that? Reiner wanted to question, wanted to prod at the smug man who was waving cigarette smoke from his face.

          “So, what are we going to do with her?” Reiner finally addressed the elephant in the room, pulling at the last remaining thread to this horrible game they had gotten themselves into.

          “We’ll keep using her, of course. Though I don’t think she will give anything else up so freely. We need to give her some hope that we trust her, that she’s going to live through this little nightmarish web we’ve caught her in.”

          Reiner didn’t like the tone in Zeke’s voice. He seemed too relaxed, too humored by it all.

          It was at this time that Pieck wandered into the room, carefully balancing a crutch underneath her arm. She was carrying that soft smile of hers, leaning against the wall momentarily before also settling at the table.

          “A little birdy told me what all is going on,” she turned her grin to Galliard, whose chest puffed at his recognition, “Sorry I couldn’t make the last mission, Chief, the old leg just couldn’t handle it. But, I do have a suggestion to your little, hm, captive issue here.”

          The room felt tense, everyone focusing on the small woman as her prim cheerfulness refused to fade.

          “Let her free, under supervision, of course. Turn our old reconnaissance mission on its head; watch an outsider from inside our group, see if we can get her comfortable enough to open up again.”

          “Yes, exactly, Pieck!” Zeke let out a hearty laugh as he smacked the table with an open palm, wicked delight brightening over his features. He ran his fingers through his blonde ponytail, like he was settling into relief.

          Reiner felt his heart sink into his stomach, acid tearing at its flesh.

          “And it seems we have just the man for the job, seeing that he magically got the little vexation to open her mouth.”

          “No.”

          Reiner gritted his teeth, jaw flexing at the thought of being your god damn babysitter.

          “Oh yes,” Zeke fished around in his pocket then, pulling out a set of keys and sliding them across the table. Reiner didn’t move, just let the clinking metal fall into lap and sink into his thigh.

          “Go let her out of her cage, let her know we’ve agreed to take up her offer of help, but only if she follows orders and stays in your sight.”

          “Don’t you think a woman is more suited to this?” Annie chirped, carelessly smothering her cigarette out directly onto the table, hot ash settling into the grooves of oak.

          “You already passed on this task, sweetheart. Besides, it seems she might find Braun a little more tolerable after all.”

━━━─── • ───━━━

          And all this, all these words, all this fucking time passed, led to Reiner standing before you once again. His head rested against the rusted iron; grip so tight around the metal bars he worried he might actually bend them.

          He’d relayed the messages, but ensured you that this fucking Zeke business had stayed behind tight lips.

          When he opened his eyes, his vision focused on you, still sitting, an almost dumbfounded look on your tilted, tired head.

          “Thank you,” you whispered to him, a sincerity he wasn’t used to pooling in his ears, dripping down his skin.

          “Don’t thank me yet. There are still long nights ahead of you.”

          Ahead of him, he recognized.

          All he wanted was for you to disappear, to be washed away, but it seemed you were about to become a permanent stain on his life—a living, breathing body to remind him of the past he had left in the dark depths of his mind to rot.

          Be sure your sins will find you out, he mused, looking at a sin that might be too tempting not to partake of.

Next Chapter

#reiner braun #reiner #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner x you #reiner braun x you #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #snk reiner #snk reiner braun #AoT #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot reiner #aot reiner braun

[getyouasenju]

Drivers License

Inspired by miss Olivia Rodrigo's "Drivers License"

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Maybe spoilers?? Angst, some suggestive themes, oh and you might not like it lol.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – :

“I got my driver's license last week Just like we always talked about”

I let out a sigh of relief as the arms around me squeezed tighter as I recalled my day. I was nervous when Lord Sixth had called me to his office. I almost vomited when I stepped and was surrounded by a sea of Jōnin. Then my legs were jelly when he called me forward. The silver headed mans gaze felt like a laser. He paused for a moment before he spoke. “Congratulations (Y/N), you’ve been promoted to a Jōnin!” Giving me his signature closed eyed smile and wave, he giggled at my expression. My jaw was on the floor, a Jōnin. wow. I hear an applause as I turn to see the other Jōnin clapping for me, Lord Sixth stood to offer me my official Jōnin vest. I reach my hands out, bowing my head as I accept the new position.

So, there I was outside with three pairs of arms wrapped around me, squealing. “S-sakura, Hinata, Ino! If you squeeze any tighter I won’t make it on my first mission as a Jōnin. Laughing, they both loosened their grip and let breath. “Sorry (Y/N), We’re just so excited for you!” Ino exclaims. Nodding her head in agreement and clasping her hands together Sakura speaks excitedly to me “Yes! It’s all you spoke about. You worked so hard, I mean you and Shikamaru spent so much time training and going on missions for this!”

Shikamaru.. Everyone got silent as Sakura realized what she said. “I-I.. (Y/N) this is your moment, I didn’t mean to mention him, It ju-” I held my hand up smiling softly “It’s okay Sakura, I know you meant no harm.” I reach out grabbing her hand as she returns my smile. Hinata suddenly rests her hand on my shoulder, grabbing my attention as she spoke in her soft voice, “Celebratory ice cream?” she suggested. I smiled widely “Oh absolutely! Wow, Naruto is lucky I like him, ‘cause if I didn’t I’d steal you for myself!” Launching myself at her we lock arms and lead a giggling Ino and Sakura to our favorite Ice cream shop.

“'Cause you were so excited for me To finally drive up to your house”

I got my regular cone and sat at the cute table with my friends. Sakura might have brought him up, but believe me- he was already in my head. Ino was telling a story and from the looks on Hinata and Sakura’s faces, it was a good one, but I was long gone from reality now. Should I go tell him about my promotion to Jōnin? I think back to what Sakura said... He spent so much time helping me to be the shinobi I am today. Countless nights of working, training, and helping me on missions so they would be successful. I promised him he would be the first one to know about the promotion... but he was the advisor for the Hokage, he would know already, right? Did he know before I did? My head was getting foggy. I felt my ice cream dripping onto my hand, snapping out my day dream and jumping back into conversation with my friends.

“But today I drove through the suburbs Crying 'cause you weren't around”

Hugging and waving each other goodbye outside the shop Ino spoke up, “(Y/N), are you sure you don’t want one of us to walk you home like the usual?” I shook my head as I pointed to my vest. “I’m a Jōnin now! I can handle it! Next time though.” I confidently replied. Giving everyone one last squeeze, we wave as we all turn off in our separate ways. Usually I would love to have a walking partner, but I was too busy thinking of one in particular. I sigh to myself, how pathetic could I be?

I walked by my regular route, opting to take the longer way home. I wanted to clear my head, but I couldn't. The memories wouldn’t stop coming to my mind and they were hitting me hard. All of my firsts flashing in my head, all of them were with him. The worst part was that I wouldn’t trade them all for the entire world. Sighing and kicking a rock down the street I looked up at the sky and noticed it was getting darker. I should probably get home soon. Wrapping my arms around myself I slowly came to a stop on the side of the street as I tried to stop myself from sobbing. Thanking god that the streets seemed to be empty tonight. I started to walk, staggering to the side. Grabbing the nearby fence for support I violently rubbed at my eyes trying to stop my tears and ease my breathing.

Hearing a noise behind me, I quickly jumped up to a rooftop. I didn’t want to risk anyone seeing me like this. I was never like this! I felt like my world was crumbling, but how could it be? I had just gotten something I worked my ass off for, the recognization I deserved, I got to share the moment with three of the best friends in the entire fucking world and yet here I was. Crying my eyes out on a rooftop, ways from home because he wasn’t around to share it with me.

I took a seat on the roof and took a deep breath, my memories flooding me as I internally begged myself to stop. I remember the first time he kissed me. It was after he taught me to play Shogi.. and then proceeded completely blindside me and whoop my ass in it the same night. I should’ve seen it coming from the lazy genius. I was pouting the entire night until he suddenly kissed me and told me I looked too cute pouting about something so troublesome. My cheeks get warm as I think about our first time... but then my mind goes to why he’s not here celebrating with me today.

“And you're probably with that blonde girl, Who always made me doubt. She's so much older than me, She's everything I'm insecure about”

I remember the day she came to our village, at least the first day I saw her. He had known her before, they met in the Chūnin exams. I knew at least that much. I was a year below him, I didn’t know him then, but I could tell from the first glance he gave her at the gate. I knew there was more to their story than that. Their gazes lingered far too long on each other for my liking.

I was jealous when she was chosen to go on a mission with him. She was drop dead gorgeous with her sandy blonde hair and shimmering teal eyes, while I was just plain old me. Not to mention she came from a line of Kazekage, along with being a strong Kunoichi and strategist herself. They were more alike in ways I couldn’t compete with, hell I just became a Jōnin today. She had her back to us as Shikamaru kissed me goodbye at the gate that day, looking down at me, smiling and promising to be safe. I returned his stare stroking his cheek one more time. As I watched them walk off together, I knew I was just counting the days left with him.

“Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs 'Cause how could I ever love someone else?”

I was freezing now sitting on that roof, It was fully dark outside now. Wiping my eyes, I thought to myself. “Am I crying for him or myself?” I just felt so withdrawn. I gave him everything, what else was there possibly left of me to ever give someone else? It was all Shikamaru’s, I felt sick to my stomach as my wrapped my arms around myself and jumped down off the rooftop, proceeding to walk towards my home. Maybe taking the long way was a mistake, I seemed to be making a lot of those recently.

“And I know we weren't perfect, But I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine, How you could be so okay now that I'm gone”

By all means we had our differences, but that’s what made us great. He liked to cloud gaze and I liked to take walks. We compromised by taking a walk and then laying down and watching the clouds when were tired. He liked to play Shogi, so I learned even though he beat me every time. He was reserved and I could be as hyper as Naruto somedays. He would say I was a troublesome woman, but that life would be a drag without me. But what is he doing now, huh? is life such drag without me now? When he was the one who left me in the dust? This is just as embarrassing as it is heartbreaking. I bet he was having the time of his life with his lucky lady.

“Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me.”

I thought back to when he told me he saw a life with me, how much he proclaimed to be in love with me, how he fights his best to come home from every mission for me and laughed. I just laughed to myself. How naive of me, I was just a holding place for Temari. Scoffing and speeding my pace up a bit I look up to see the moon shining brightly that night. Making my way further down the street as a horrid smell hit my nose. Cigarettes..

Then I remembered why I always took the shortcut home. Why I always avoided this route. This was his street. I don’t know what compelled me to go this way. Maybe my mind was subconsciously calling out for him. I was frozen in my spot, arms wrapped around my myself staring back at him. He looked at me, the moon lighting the way, his eyes lingering on the Jōnin vest I was wearing. Flicking the cigarette down on the ground and stepping on it he opens his mouth and calls out to me.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing out here alone?”

But I just turned my back and kept walking. 

“Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street...“

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – :

Hello! I did do a little part Part two, you can find it here- “Red Lights”

Yes. I am on Olivia Rodrigo Tiktok. Hope you enjoyed, Didn’t do the full song, decided to cut one verse out :) Also Calculus is kicking my ass!

Masterlist

 Until Next Time! xxo (▰∀◕)ﾉ

#Drivers License #naruto #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #shikamaru nara #shikamaru #shikamaru nara imagine #shikamaru nara imagines #shikamaru imagine #shikamaru imagines #imagine #Shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru nara x reader #naruto angst #naruto x reader

[ghostbustermelanieking]

some thoughts on mag 200

i’ve been having trouble articulating this, but i wanted to get some thoughts down on mag 200, and the ending of tma as a whole, now that i’ve heard the finale twice and had some time to process it all. putting this under a cut in case people don’t wanna see it -- there’s gonna be a lot of praise here, but also some legit criticism. this is a way to sort through my feelings more than anything else.

first off, relistening to the finale, and sitting on it for a while, has made me feel a hell of a lot better about the whole thing. the episode comes off a lot better when you’re not vibrating with fear and anticipation, in my opinion. the final statement was very fitting and cool -- not my favorite ever, but i can appreciate it a lot as a final closing for the fears. and i don’t have an ear for soundscaping but the sound in that statement was cool as hell. the jonah magnus gets fucking murdered scene is incredibly satisfying. a lot of other people have said this, but i love that jon finally got his revenge, and was able to lash out against jonah for all the years of manipulation and beng used, and for tim and sasha and everything else. that was perfect. i genuinely thought we might not get a scene like this after 193 but i am so glad we did. incredibly satisfying. the girls made it out!! i am very glad that they’re ok and moving on and seem to be leaning on each other. (By God I Will Wring Found Family Out Of This Podcast If It Kills Me.) and the admiral’s okay. love that

and the jonmartin ending. oh my god. while i was never the biggest fan of the possibility of martin having to kill jon, the way it went down was so painful and good. i loved that final scene. i love the ambiguity -- that they might have died but maybe they didn’t, maybe they’re all right and happy and we can decide for ourselves -- i love that i got exactly what i wanted, that i get to have my cake and eat it too, all the angst of a jmart death and still the possibility of happiness... i am going buckwild. i love it. the longer i spend with this ending, the happier i am with it. i really really loved it

on another note... i do have some reservations about the finale and the season as a whole. i understand peoples’ irritations with the finale, and while i’m trying to focus on the things i did like, i definitely have some irritations. for one, i definitely wish the finale had been longer. i would’ve loved to see more of what wtgfs and basira were doing, and the actual lighting of the archives, etc. and while i completely understand why the scene at the panopticon went as quickly as it did -- it comes off very much as wild, frantic impulse in the heat of the moment where they’re in danger and trying to protect each other -- i do wish it had gone a little slower. 

in my mind, the biggest issue in season 5 ended up being pacing. and this might be a personal preference thing -- there’s a lot of things within the show that i don’t personally vibe with, but i don’t necessarily think they’re badly written. but i do think season 5 was slow. and while slow things can certainly work in a certain context (season 4 comes off wildly slow til you listen to 160), i wish more of what actually happened in season 5 had been baked into the end game. the season felt like it had a lot of filler, which drives me mildly crazy, because the end game feels rushed and i don’t think it NEEDED to be. i liked a lot of what season 5 did -- there’s some impeccable episodes, the character interactions are weirdly lighter and softer than they have been in previous seasons, and i wouldn’t trade a lot of the things that it’s given us (all the jonmartin interactions, jon and georgie briefly rebuilding their friendship, martin and melanie friendship, wtgfs scenes and intimacy, backstory, lore, etc) for anything. but i do think it could’ve been structured and paced a little differently. i also think it could’ve given some more screentime to the character stuff we got from episodes like 161, 170, 186, 190, 191, 192, 199... i absolutely love both martin centric monologue episodes, but i hate that we didn’t get anything like that for jon. (or for melanie or georgie or basira...) the best episodes of the season, imo, are the ones that broke from traditional form of domain statement domain, and the ones that focused in hard on backstory, lore, character introspection, character interaction... i wish we had more of this. 

when it comes to the jonmartin arc... i know this has been a point of contention with a lot of people, but i don’t hate it at all. maybe it’s just because i relistened to the majority of the season back in january, but a lot of the more grating moments that seemed large week to week (martin pressuring jon to smite people, the disagreements they had earlier in the season, jon using martin as bait in 176, etc etc) come off a lot more minor when you’re binging. personally, relistening to act i made those interactions come off as things they were struggling with through continued support and reassurance. there were absolutely things i wanted addressed, especially with the “kill bill arc” -- the disagreements early in the season, and how it seemed to turn on its head in the argument they have in 194. (i didn’t like martin blaming jon for the kill bill arc and i was hoping it would get brought up.) i also wanted to see a discussion of martin going with annabelle in 194 -- i wasn’t really ever mad at martin for doing it, but i did want to see them talk it out. 

but! after relistening to 200, i think i have a better handle on why that couldn’t have happened. martin goes behind jon’s back to go with annabelle and they don’t talk about it; jon goes behind martin’s back to sabotage the plan everyone agrees on in order to prevent the fears from spreading. if they’d had a big talk about trust, and working through martin going off with annabelle, and then jon turned around and did the same thing, more or less... it would’ve completely soured that discussion. jon and martin needed to be in a place of discourse for this ending to work. 

honestly, the more i’ve thought about this final JM arc, the better i feel about it. sure, jon and martin are in a bad place, and they’ve gone behind each other’s backs and been somewhat selfish, but i don’t think this ruins their relationship. for one, martin’s break in trust comes from a place of wanting to save jon and the world. and for another, jon genuinely feels he is doing the right thing, making a decision he can live with. (i have my own opinions as to how ethical jon’s decision was, but that’s another post. and i think the muddy ethics of this ending are on purpose -- it’s horror, a genre that often doesn’t offer ethical decisions.) their final decisions and final moments come from a place of love and protectiveness, and they change their decisions for the other. they still love each other, through all of it. i don’t think these late stage betrayals equivalate jonmartin necessarily being doomed as a couple (not that anyone has said that, but it’s worth saying). and i think it’s important to remember that this is still a relatively new relationship. it existed for approximately three weeks before the literal apocalypse, and it’s been under an immense amount of stress, as well as the constant fear that one or both of them would die. (which they did.) i’m not saying that excuses certain things they’ve said or done, but i am saying i don’t think the relationship is doomed. i think, if jon and martin have survived, they’ll need to work through things. they’ll need to talk it all out. and they’ll be able to! they’ll heal from this one way or another. the tragedy isn’t that jonmartin is doomed, or toxic. it’s that these moments of betrayal are what dooms them. and the beautiful undercurrent of it all is that they still manage to come together, and make decisions that mean they stay together. and that wherever they are, they’re still together. 

all in all, i don’t think season 5 has been perfect, and i can make my peace with that. (tma’s worst is a hell of a lot better than most shows’ best.) (i also think it might be worth considering how covid could have affected certain aspects of how the season was written -- pandemics are stressful, and i can’t imagine what it’s like to finish an enormous, in the works for years project like this in the middle of that. personally, i’m impressed they’ve managed to finish the show through all of this and keep it to a similar quality.) i think critiques are valuable and worth discussing. and i think plot aspects aside, there are several other critique related things that could be brought up about this season that people have articulated much better than i ever could. but i also, personally, want to walk away from the show feeling satisfied. i tend to be weirdly positive about things i love (the x files finale was horrendous, but i managed to get to a place where i was happy with it, for example), and i think that applies here -- even more so because i really did love so many aspects of that finale. i don’t necessarily want to linger in my own mind over what i disliked, especially considering the show is over. although i did want to air out my thoughts. 

i still love this show. i loved a lot of episodes this season, frustrations aside. season 5 will forever be my only live tma experience, and it got me through one of the worst years of my life, and i am very grateful for this. i genuinely did just want to air out my thoughts and get them all down on paper. these are just my opinions -- i don’t want to criticize anyone who feels differently about the finale, or the season as a whole. everyone’s opinion is their own. 

i feel a lot, lot better about mag 200, to the point of genuinely loving it. i hope my appreciation only grows as i get further from that frenzied first day and have more time to sit with it. and i can’t wait to see all the art and read all of the amazing fics that are going to come out of this ending (and write some of my own). it’s been a wild ride. i’m glad i was here for it.

#tma #the magnus archives #mag 200 #tma spoilers #tma negative #not too strong i dont think but just in case #this might be completely incoherent lol but i wanted to get it down

[princessfbi]

Ok I have got to know what happened with Oliver's character on that one show that makes you rage so hard every time you see him.

WELL NONNIE I'LL TELL YOU!

This is a warning for spoilers if anyone wants to watch this show because my rage cannot be contained.

OK SO...

This show is called Into the Badlands and Oliver's character is named Ryder. Basically the premise of this world is that it's kind of post apocalyptic/alternative universe where humanity got so caught up in trying to one up each other that it sort of imploded and now you have this society where either you're super wealthy (the Barrons), super poor (Cogs and Nomads), or somehow a ninja (The Clippers and whatever the hell MK was supposed to be). ANYWAYS....

Ryder is the son of Barron Quinn. Now the surviving land is either divided into like factions run by Barrons (who control a majority of major trade) or there's these lawless lands that are run dredges of society. You either become a Barron by killing another Barron (which is what Quinn did) or you are an heir apparent. Ryder is more an heir presumptive because Quinn won't outright name him his heir even though everyone just assumes it.

This is because Quinn is batshit crazy and thinks he can just live forever through sheer stubbornness and will alone. This is especially hard to do because he has a massive brain tumor that's dwindling down what little bit of sanity he has leading him to make questionable choices such as killing the only doctor they have in the lands who would've been useful pretty much for the rest of the series but go off Quinn. Ryder has a lot of resentment towards his father, which I will get into in a minute, and at the same time has gone out of his way to prove to Quinn that he's a worthy heir. Except Quinn keeps comparing Ryder to his second and regent, Sunny, and he's just all around a shitty person in general.

NOW HERE'S THE AMAZING BACKSTORY WITH RYDER:

So, when Ryder was a child, he was kidnapped by these nomads who were trying to blackmail Quinn. Ryder's mother begged Quinn to pay the ransom and save Ryder. Quinn... refused. So the nomads tortured Ryder and (Gross warning) like cut off part of his toes and disfigured his foot in the hopes of crippling him and scaring Quinn into giving to their demands.

Quinn, again, refused.

Eventually Quinn's regent at the time, Waldo, defies Quinn's orders and goes to rescue Ryder from these nomads. Waldo defying Quinn is a big deal because he's a clipper which is basically a soldier (often brought in from the slave faction called Cogs) and they take their oaths to their Barrons very seriously. Barrons trust no one but their regents because again you can become a Barron by killing them. But Waldo always had a soft spot for Ryder.

SO Ryder is saved and eventually nursed back to health but he always has a bit of a tragedy cloud hanging around him because from what we were told Ryder was a very sweet, bright child before he was kidnapped and was brought back as "a broken bird" and he's been doing everything he can to get rid of the broken bird image ever since.

Quinn resented Ryder for making him look weak and Ryder resented Quinn for... Well being a heartless dick.

But here's the crazy part... They both, in their own way, still kind of loved each other.

Now I won't bore you with my rant about how the best antagonists are often the tragic figures who have fallen from grace (Peter Hale, Draco Malfoy, Loki to name a few) BUT I will say Ryder had the PERFECT foundation of showing that fall. He was an asshole and hard and spoiled and super privilege but also soft and still a little broken. There's a whole other narrative involved too with his childhood love and how his dad planned on marrying her but we won't get into that.

ANYWAYS Ryder still had this desperate need to prove to his dad that he was a worthy heir but in his attempts to prove himself (and his dad's fall into madness) his dad started seeing him as competition. Competition and another objects (like Quinn saw with most other characters but especially Sunny). But Quinn has this weird kind of pride when it comes to things that he considers his and an attack on his property is an attack on him. There's a character named the Widow who lured Ryder out and tried to kill him slowly and personally as well as Sunny as an attack on Quinn and he went bananas (sorta).

Ryder was fine eventually but he realized that trying to prove himself to his dad was never going to work so he decides to try the other option: which is killing his dad. Partially because if he doesn't, Ryder is smart enough to know that Quinn's going to get him killed, but also because Quinn's descent into madness is spiraling faster and faster and Ryder wants to protect the legacy. Nothing to inherit if his dad burns the whole thing to the ground!

Long story short, Sunny turns on Quinn and stabs him and everyone thinks Quinn is dead and Ryder takes credit for it therefore succeeding his dad by becoming not only Barron of his father's lands but some other Barron that got murdered by another subplot that was pointless.

Now Ryder is determined to bring peace to the lands (not out of some noble obligation but because he just wants people to chill the fuck out). And for the most part... he's doing okay.

BUT THEN PLOT TWIST HIS DAD IS ALIVE AND CRAZIER THAN EVER.

Basically his dad storms Ryder's house, chases him down in the garden, and they fight. But Ryder's foot that was crippled when he was a child trips him up and the fight gets even messier. Ryder's sword breaks and Quinn points the sword to his own chest and tells Ryder to finish him.

Ryder hesitates and so Quinn takes the sword and stabs Ryder. You know like a rational father would do.

Quinn then asks Ryder why he hesitated and Ryder whispers "because you're my father" before he dies in Quinn's arms. Quinn is... horrified because he realizes that with the death of Ryder is the death of the last parts of his own humanity. He mourns Ryder but also like... takes no responsibility for killing him but neither did Ryder so he can't process it. Later on he's haunted by Ryder but again the man has a giant grapefruit sized tumor in his brain so it's all very reverse Hamlet if you will.

SO LOOK AT ALL THIS POTENTIAL!

THE REASON I RAGE:

Is because Ryder was set up to fail from the beginning. Which is great!....... If that had actually happened. The show worked so hard to tell us that Ryder was a failure and a coward but if you look at it from a story perspective... Ryder was the opposite of a failure. Every time someone told him he couldn't do something, he proved them wrong. Again and again and again. But that was never good enough for anyone. So that vicious cycle would've been amazing to see!

But instead of exploring any of that, we had to watch a storyline that was frankly ridiculous from the beginning that took up way more time than it should. There's a character named MK, who was supposed to be inspired by the myth The Monkey King, but if you don't know that story then you never would've figured that out. Hell, I knew the story and didn't figure it out until I had to google his name because I kept forgetting it. In comparison to everything else happening in the show, this magical mythical storyline just didn't fit and I'm not kidding when I say I watched a season and a half of this show and forgot about MK every time.

Now if you noticed my icon is Buck in a Box. That's an inside joke I have with a friend about this fucking show. The first scene starts off with Sunny stumbling onto a group of Nomads who go absolutely feral about this massive box they don't want him to look inside. Turns out MK was in this box for reasons that were too weak for me to even remember but again MK was entirely forgettable. My friend and I kept talking about how it would've been better if Ryder had been in the box because the Ryder and Sunny rivalry had so much unexplored potential that would've been incredible if we started from the very beginning instead of just being told over and over again that Ryder hates being compared to Sunny.

Sunny is the main character and Quinn, unlike with Ryder, was incredibly proud to have Sunny "in his possession" and Ryder hated him for it.

But did we get to explore that? NO! Did we get to explore the parallels of Sunny and Ryder chafing at being considered possessions by Quinn? NO! Did we get to explore the trauma Ryder was working so hard to shake off? NO!

Instead the show spent so much energy victim blaming Ryder essentially for being the son of a Villain and his Nonsensical Ambitious Mother who had the misfortune of being kidnapped by bandits as a child while telling the audience that Ryder was never going to succeed. That Ryder had no honor and was a coward and weak.

They spent way more time trying to tell us that we should hate Ryder and that he was a bad guy but didn't do ANY of the work to show the fall from grace to prove that. Ryder remained a tragic figure that didn't fall from grace but was rather pushed off by lazy writing because they wanted to focus again on this magical ninja boy with a penchant for getting in the way and ruining everything.

I rage because Antagonist and Villain are not the same thing. Ryder had the potential of becoming a villain and his death by the hands of his father would've cycled him back into the role of a tragic figure. But instead... it was just wasted.

THAT is why I rage. You had the material right there and yet you spent so long telling us that we, the audience, don't like Ryder instead of showing us anything that would make us not like him (besides the whiny white boy thing).

Instead I found myself rooting for Ryder. Like could you imagine if Ryder and Sunny went against Quinn together instead of having the weakest rivalry known to man? Could you imagine Ryder's fall from grace of wanting peace in the lands as it turned to greed? Could you imagine Sunny becoming actual competition for Ryder instead of being manipulated to do so?

WE GOT NONE OF IT.

THIS is why I rage.

#I'm so sorry nonnie #I ranted #But you asked for it #So here it is #Oliver Stark #Ryder into the badlands #Into the badlands #anon #ask #answered

[am-imagines]

I see you. - Alex Morgan Imagine.

Request: “ Can I request this: Alex and r are together and the team knows and then they come out to the public in some really cute or funny way and maybe you can also incorporate some supportive reactions from the team? ”

I hope I did it justice, guys. Thank you for the patience to those that are still around. I love y’all. <3

No Beta, so you know the drill here, but I tried my best.

Sharing a room with Alex during the World Cup was somewhat rough when you were barely able to look at her without blushing. You were crushing on her since the day you met, but it was never that bad until you were on the bed next to hers.

The awkwardness that overcame you around her was odd, considering you texted practically nonstop. You became good friends like that, and there was an ease on your conversations that you’d never experienced with anyone else.

You shared so many interests, even had a similar lookout in life. You aimed for the same goals and put in equal amounts of effort to achieve them.

None of that changed the fact that Alex was stupidly handsome. Her beauty smacked you on the face whenever you looked at her and that was your downfall. It didn’t matter what you did, your cheeks would end up flushed with color and you’d stammer total nonsense that would make her chuckle. Alex would inevitably get closer to make sure you were okay, and just like that you were a gay mess.

A thing you learned quickly about Alex is that she never quit.

When you were too nervous to talk, she filled in the silence with a funny story or a new song to listen together. Free nights became movie marathons or just quiet moments where you’d work the nerves away before a match.

Halfway through the World Cup it wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to fall asleep in her bed and wake up cuddled on her side come morning.

Pointing the exact moment when your relationship became more than a friendship was near impossible. It was slow, steady and swift. One day you looked at her and realized that she was more than your friend, and when you leaned down to kiss her, she met you halfway.

This was a new side of yourself and Alex; one that you wanted to enjoy without rush or pressure. No one really knew you were into girls to start with although your crush on her wasn’t exactly subtle. Then again, everyone had to be a little starstruck by Alex Morgan when they joined the USWNT.

Once you were World Champions, you had time to explore that relationship and everything it meant to you. It was both exhilarating and terrifying with all the media swarming you, and yet no one noticed the slight changes in your demeanor.

No one really asked, and you never told.

Perhaps you just weren’t ready to come out to the rest of the world. Maybe wrapping your head around some of the details was harder than you thought. After all, you were dating Alex Morgan, for fuck’s sake!

Maybe the longing looks, the lingering touches and the secretive smiles were a few clues for the team, but if they knew or suspected something, you couldn’t tell. They were a part of your family, and in the end, they wanted you to be happy above everything else.

They would wait for you to be ready, and once things went back to normal after the victory tour, you finally were.

“How are we doing this?” Alex asked as she played with your hair. “Livestream?”

You look up at her, your head resting on her lap as you scroll through social media wondering what the fuck you’re about to do. But a second later all your attention is on her, and you find yourself breathless once again.

She’s stunning in a million different ways but you preferred this one; soft and relaxed. That was one of the perks of enjoying a quiet weekend at her place in L.A. before you went back to your respective clubs.

It seems like the National team is fond of Live Streams but it isn't how you want to come out. First because you’d become a nerve mess before actually sharing the news, and second because it isn’t original at all.

If you are about to come out to the fans and sponsors out there, you want to do so in a way they’d remember.

“I don’t think I could do it even if I tried,” you finally say.

Then it dawns on you: humor is the way you handle most of the things that would make you uncomfortable otherwise. That’s not to say you want the world to believe your relationship with Alex is a joke, but there has to be a way to come out in a funny, quirky and clever way.

“We’ll see each other in a couple of weeks, right?” You ask trying to remember the exact date when your clubs will face each other.

“Yeah,” she pauses for a second and you look up at her curiously. “Speaking of, any chance I can steal you for a night while you’re in Orlando?”

“Well, Ms. Morgan, I’m pretty sure that can be arranged,” you tell her with a coy smile. “For now, there’s some online shopping to do.”

With a kiss on her cheek and all the hesitation on the world to leave her side, you finally go to the other side of the room to retrieve your laptop. After all, you’re in a very important mission. And NWSL is the kind of merchandise you’re looking for.

For some miracle of the Gods above, you find both your jerseys in stock available for shipping within 24 hours with an extra fee. You don’t mind paying a bit more to stay on schedule, and even when you technically still have time, you like to be prepared.

It’d be nice to get your items before you and Alex go your separate ways.

You’d be lying if you say having her autograph wouldn’t be nice too.

“What’s the big idea here?” Alex asks while you finalize the purchase.

Her arms found their place around your waist and she rests her chin on your shoulder so she can see what you’re doing. Your plan is still a secret, and you want to keep it like that for a little longer.

“You’re gonna have to wait and trust me for a while.”

The smirk never leaves your face even when you can feel her little pout. It doesn’t last long, the laptop is forgotten on the coffee table and you turn on her arms to face her. A moment later you’re straddling her lap, your fingers undoing her ponytail and combing her hair until she closes her eyes.

“For now, what do you say we stop worrying about the rest of the world?”

“What should we do then?” She asks, already leaning in for a kiss.

“I think you got the right idea.”

*****

“All set?”

You scan the place one last time to make sure nothing’s missing from your bag. Nothing important since Alex has already claimed half your clothes.

Cellphone and wallet already in your pocket, and keys right on your hand, everything seems to be where it should. The rest of your things are packed and ready to go for the last flight home.

The Victory Tour ended on a good note, so now all you have to do is say goodbye to Alex.

Sharing a room with her was hard at the beginning, and you never expected that not sharing it anymore would be exponentially harder.

“Yeah,” you finally answer after patting your pockets once again. “I think-, I think I’m ready.”

“Okay.”

But just like you, Alex doesn’t really move and when she does, it’s towards you.

You’ve never seen her move as fast as she does while crossing the distance between you. But you don’t comment on it, really can’t when her arms are around you in a second and her lips are on yours.

It’s soft and yet firm. The kind of kiss that makes you weak at the knees and all you can do is hold onto her shoulders. You move with her, allow her to take control of it all as you try to burn her into your memory.

You try to memorize the softness of her lips, the silkiness of her hair between your fingers and even that scent that is purely Alex. You try to take all of it in, but you only have a moment that is over far too soon.

Technology is your saving grace, and you’re not sure what you’d do otherwise. And yet there are things you can’t convey through the Internet.

“I should go,” you whisper against her lips.

“Yeah.”

It’s hard -almost impossible-, to resist Alex. So despite the pressing matter of time, you indulge in another kiss.

Just like last time, you melt into her embrace and you consider staying there forever. It’s almost as if time stopped around you. Almost. Your alarm goes off startling you out of the daze, and you can help the little jump that makes Alex chuckle.

A step back creates just enough distance to clear your mind, the action making Alex raise an eyebrow in amusement but it’s really not your fault. She has that effect on you, has been that way for a long time, and yet she still finds it amusing.

With a tap on the screen you take care of the alarm. And there you are, right where you were ten minutes ago.

Time to go.

“Right. So...here I go then.”

“And-,” Alex adds with an excited smile, “-we have a game plan for next week.”

“That we do.”

Next week you’re playing against different teams on different days which gives you the opportunity to watch each other’s match. It’s the first step on your plan. Coming out seems like a big deal, and bit by bit the pieces get in motion.

“No regrets, right?” You ask.

This is not just about you. As big as coming out can be, this is also the reveal of your relationship with the biggest face of the USWNT. Whatever backlash you can get from this, it’ll be worse for her due to her massive following.

So you have to ask her again if she’s sure about this, if she’s as ready as you are.

“Y/n,” she calls softly as she cups your face. “No regrets at all.”

“Good,” you said with a small voice, barely believing this. “That’s...that’s good.”

You’re on this together, and yet, it’s incredible.

*****

Her match is about to start when you pull out your phone to take a selfie.

The pride colors look kinda odd on you. Maybe it’s because you spent the last few months only wearing the National Team kit, or maybe it’s because you don’t wear purple that often. But well, you’re not requesting a team trade, and it was your idea, so you can’t complain.

One of your friends already helped you take one picture of the back where Alex’s name and number are perfectly visible.

You’re practically shaking, but manage to smile as you snap the picture.

It’s something simple, really. Something that shouldn’t mean too much and yet, it does.

Pulling up your social media, you add both pictures.

  |Cheering for the Pride today. #13 show me what you’ve got. ;)

The wink is cheeky; it’s a reason for people to read into it and wonder if there’s something else going on. Which is…well, totally the point.

It’s funny to see the diverse reactions to your post. Some are confused about what you mean, some jump to call a trade that simply won’t happen; at least not that you know. But the press, oh they are ready to call it a rivalry.

It doesn’t matter how many times you two were caught on camera during the world cup being friendly. It didn’t matter if you two worked like a well oiled machine on the field during every match; Victory Tour included. They wanted to push the rivalry angle; fueled by the lack of a rebuttal from either of you.

You can’t help but laugh later when you call Alex to congratulate her. She truly showed you what she got with a couple of goals and the victory for the Orlando Pride. Those have been rare for her team lately, although you can’t blame them with so many key players also going to the World Cup.

However, the rivalry angle is fun to play with and in the end it’s the one you decide to push a little more the next day when it’s you on the field while Alex watches.

You’re already done with warm-ups and head out to the locker room to change into the kit when you hear your phone pinging with a new post. As expected, you find Alex’s post already blowing up despite it has been up for a grand total of two minutes.

   |I already showed you what I’m capable of. Now it’s your turn, Y/n.

Attached it’s a picture of Alex wearing your club jersey and although the number isn’t really showing, it’s more than obvious she’s wearing yours.

A chuckle escapes your lips while you shake your head. A question running through your head as you prepare for the starting whistle.

What the fuck am I doing?

***

A week later the press is going wild with theories about you and Alex. They aren’t sure what to make of it, but everyone has been talking about it for days. The upcoming match up between your clubs has served to add fuel to the fire, but you ignore all the fuzz of it as you prepare.

Last week you obtained the victory with a last minute goal to earn the three points. And unable to resist temptation, you had to make another post about it.

   |I’d say I’m pretty good at delivering. What do you say, Morgan?

   |TBD. See you next week.

The last part was a clue that no one seemed to catch on considering you were staying at her place instead of sticking with your club in a hotel. Of course, you didn’t share that bit of information and instead let the tension grow outside of your happy bubble.

This match is the moment of culmination if everything goes the right way. But playing against Alex doesn’t mean you’re going easy on her. If anything, being on the same field always pushes you to play the best soccer and be the best player you can be out there. It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing the same colors or not.

Being lenient with her as a rival is the kind of mistake that could and would cost you a game. You just don’t underestimate Alex Morgan. And she better not do so to you or you’ll make her pay.

Adjusting the captain armband once more, you follow your team into the field and take your place just a few feet away from your girlfriend.

“Good luck, Morgan.”

“May the best team win.”

You play your hardest on that field; push to your limits and beyond, but in the end it’s a draw. Two a piece. Of course it had to be a draw. But you left everything there.

The game became physical and you tackled Alex as much as she tackled you in order to get back a lost ball. That’s part of your motto, not giving up even if it seems like a lost cause. And considering Alex decided to date you even when you couldn’t look at her four months ago, you’d say Alex doesn’t give up either.

Well that and the couple of new bruises you have after the match.

You’re a bit disappointed with the final score; you always want to win and carry that inertia into the next game. But it’s a fair result considering how close the game actually was. You two put on a show and the fans of both teams can see that.

“Y/n! Y/n! Can you give us one moment of your time?”

Looking at the person calling for you, you have to fight the smirk as you see it’s a reporter. It’s not hard to imagine they’ve been waiting for this moment since the first post you made a week ago.

“Sure.”

“What a great game you gave us today. Are you disappointed with the result?”

You can see this is not really what they want to ask, but you don’t mind playing along giving your commentary to this question and a couple of others.

“One last question, the fans and everyone really, are wondering about this new rivalry between you and Alex Morgan. What can you tell us about that?”

Bingo.

“Oh, there’s absolutely no-”

You could feel Alex lingering around, listening into this interview while being interviewed herself by another reporter for a quote after the game. But it’s only when you’re in the middle of your answer that she takes the few steps to wrap her arms around you from behind.

“We’re dating,” she announces proudly and straight to the point.

“-rivalry.” You finish your sentence before shaking your head. “Babe, I was going to say it!”

“What’s stopping you?” Alex challenges with that smirk you absolutely adore.

“You’re impossible.“

“Yeah, and…?”

“And Alex Morgan is my girlfriend,” you answer with just a little grumble as you look back at the camera. “But we’re definitely winning the next game.”

“Not on my watch,” she counters before turning your face towards her to kiss you softly.

Whatever argument you had is gone just like that. But it’s hard to keep track of your thoughts when she kisses you. Hell, it’s impossible to think straight when she’s too close to you. That’s why it took you so long to actually talk to her.

Your relationship is still so new, and yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve known her for decades. The connection between the two of you is meant to last, and you’ve never felt your heart skip a beat as it does when you look at her.

You’ve never felt your heart hammer against your chest so madly; and that’s something considering you played -and conquered-, a World Cup. You’ve never felt so in peace as you do when you look into her eyes. You’ve never felt so happy, or so whole, or so seen...or so you.

Alex has the ability to understand everything you say, but words aren’t needed for her to understand you. In a short amount of time, Alex knows you better than anyone else in the world, and as scary as that might seem, it’s also the best thing in the world.

“If you’ll excuse us now...”

Surely there are a thousand other questions the press wants to ask. However, you have no need to stay on the field as you guide Alex back to the tunnel. The fans will be all over that interview in no time, and it’s bound to appear in every social media and every news channel.

Even with the anxiety starting to creep in, the doubts nagging at the back of your mind, you don’t let go of her hand until you have to. After all, you belong to two different clubs. But your goodbye will be short lived as you’re going to her place for the night.

Still, the time apart is a bit scary when you’re about to face the backlash of many, and perhaps the support of most. After all, you’re not the first couple -or the only one-, in the USWNT, NWSL or even women’s soccer around the world.

After another gentle kiss, you part ways to reunite with your team.

You’re hesitant for a moment; taking a deep breath to steel yourself before facing them.

As soon as they see you, the room erupts in cheers and whistles of approval. Then again, your crush on Alex Morgan wasn’t exactly a secret. And after the World Cup, they could see something had changed within you.

Of all the people out there to get you, your club got your back. And after you get a chance to check your phone, you notice they ain’t the only ones.

   |Rivalry, that’s what they call it now, uh?

Megan’s post goes along with a picture of you smiling at Alex at the end of a World Cup match. It’s obvious you were smitten with each other back then, and nothing has really changed.

  |We all know how Rivalries work. One of them has to end on top. If you ask me, my money is on Y/n.

Your blush is impossible to hide when you read Ash’s words, and that’s something that you won’t ever reply to. There are things that you simply won’t share with the world.

  |Wait, hold on. Did you guys seriously not know?

Sonnett asks in her post with several pictures taken during camp. Some of them are during team bonding or well...movie nights. It wasn’t unusual for either of you to feel particularly tired and ended up falling asleep in the same bed.

But you’re surprised to see that you cuddled before you were together.

Then, there’s the evidence of you sitting next to each other whenever you could. During breakfast, on the bus, on the bench, on the plane. At some there was hand-holding added, and you wonder, truly wonder, how you called that subtle.

  |Hottest couple out there. Sorry, Krashlyn.

Bit by bit, every single player of the USWNT has shown their support, and it acts as a wave to generate more support from the fans, and it’s so overwhelming that the few people brave enough to try and drag your name on the mud are immediately silenced.

The world is still far away from being perfect, but your friends, your teammates, your family, they sure make it better.

“Ready to go?” Alex asks when you meet her outside.

“Sure, as long as I end on top tonight,” you say with a playful wink that earns you an eye roll.

“You wish.”

#alex morgan imagine #alex morgan imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #alex morgan x reader #requested #fulfilled prompt