#idk what this is but interpret it as him staying! idk! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spidernuggets · 3 months

Note

hi i’ve never sent a request before so i’m super nervous- but all i can think about this the combination of this trend https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8GtUCqV/ and jason todd

maybe something happens on patrol and jason doesn’t tell the reader, but not telling the reader what happens is a long bad habit he has, so reader finally leaves and jason breaks…

idk it’s up to your interpretation but i can’t see the trend without jason brain rot

Jason Todd x Reader

"Please- Please stay, I need you, oh God, please"

Jason was instructed to return to the Batcave to stitch up some injuries. But he was dizzy. His head was cloudy. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't stop looking at the blood on his hands.

Even when he spent 10 minutes scrubbing and washing them, he still couldn't stop looking at his hands.

"Are you feeling well, Master Todd?" Alfred asks, concern spread across his face as he prepared cleaning essentis for Jaso . Alfred didn't want to admit it, but he somewhat favoured Jason. He taught Jason patience, initiative, and even cooking. Even with their shared birthday, Alfred couldn't help but grow fond for Jason more than the other Batkids. But he'd never let anyone else know.

The question made Jason sniffle. Alfred paused from wiping the dried blood off Jason's shoulder.

"Master Todd?"

"She was 11, Alfred. She was just a child, and she died. I wasn't fast enough. I failed her," He whimpered. The kid he was talking about lived in Crime Alley, a few blocks down from where he used to grow up.

A new drug ring was rounding up kids in poverty, particularly those who lived around Crime Alley, to work in their establishment. But when Batman found out about this, their escape route was to blow up the evidence. Almost all the kids got out. But after a head count, Jason realised one person was missing.

That's when he heard an ear-piercing scream from. the building. He started to run towards the warehouse, but as soon as he reached the door, the whole building collapsed right in front of him.

But the fallen debris didn't stop him from going in. He had hope that the girl managed to survive, that somehow, a miracle occurred, and that she was able to avoid any severe injuries and cheat death.

But there was no mircale. Jason was slapped in the face with the harsh reality when he stumbled across the limp body that was contorted through wooden beams and metal pipes.

Jason's heart ached, his chest grew heavy, and his head throbbed.

He fell to his knees, cradling the girl's head in his hands as his sobs pierced the silence.

As Dick found him, he placed a hand to his shoulder. He promised Jason that she'd have a proper bed to rest in. A proper place to be in peace. They'd find the comfiest casket they could find and have her buried where wild, beautiful flowers grew.

The body was put into Dick's care as Jason didn't trust Bruce with the promises that Dick proposed.

As Alfred listened to Jason's cried, he knelt down beside him, forhead resting against his bicep and assured him that he did his best, and that the little girl still would've seen him as a hero.

Jason didn't know who the girl was. He doesn't know most of the kids in Crime Alley. But he knows what they're going through. He know the hard times they will face. So he sees them as family. He sees them as his family.

When Jason returned to your shared apartment, your head popped out from your bedroom door. You were excited to see Jason, but when you saw his exhausted, melancholic, and baggy eyes, you knew he was going through something again. You just didn't know what. But you wanted to know. You wanted to know so you could help him.

You jogged over to him, about to cup his face with your hands, but he raised his arm, stopping yours from going up any further.

"Not today, I- I just can't," He murmured, walking to your shared room. Your heart broke. You wished there was something you could do to help him. But this wasn't the first time he shrugged away your comfort.

Every breakdown, episode, and mental collapse he has after coming back from wherever he's out to, he ignores you, avoids eye contact, shuts you out. He never tells you why he's so depressed looking. All the times before, you asked why he won't talk to you, in which his response always remained "You wouldn't understand." He's always be less down the next morning.

But the sun's rays crack through your curtains, waking you up from your deep slumber. You see Jason's vare back facing you, his body at the edge of the bed. You believed he's in a better moor, so you decide to get up before him and whip uo some breakfast for him.

French toast always did it for him. For you too. It was the two of you's comfort food. It was warm, not too sweet, both crispy and soft. It was perfect.

So, while the battered bread laid in the pan, you began to cut the leaves off the strawberries. That's when you heard his heavy footsteps coming your way.

No matter what, when he wakes up, giving you a kiss on the forhead is the first thing he does. But when you go towards him to offer a hug, he swerves, walking towards the fridge.

Whatever happened last night must've taken a harsh toll on him. You lowered the fire on the stive and called out to him.

"Jay? Jay, what happened last night?" You softly ask. In response, Jason grunts, telling you it was nothing and that it was a really long night.

Then, you swutched off the stove completely to prevent your apartment from burning down.

"Bullshit," you say. Jason doesn't even turn to face you as he's pouring himself a glass of water. "Jason, you look exhausted. You look dead! What the hell happened last night that could've possibly made you this way??" You raised your voice. You couldn't help it. You were so worried for him, and he wasn't giving you any answers.

"Nothing fucking happened!" He yells. "Even if something did, it's none of your business because not a chance in hell would you understand!"

You stand there, staring at him in disbelief. "Jason." He pauses when you say his full name. It sounded unfamiliar. You haven’t called him 'Jason' in a long while. It's always been Jay or some pet name.

"I have always been by your side. I've been on your side when you've made the most dumb, impulsive decisions. But not once have I doubted you. But right now, it's- it's like you don't want me on your side. Like.. you just keep pushing me away with no answers. Jason, I'm never going to stop being on your side, but I can't do that if you just keep shutting me out." You're tired of trying to keeo uo with Jason's mysteries. You'd be lying if you said you didn't try to follow him to wherever he's always off to. But he always vanishes whenever you think you found the answers.

You went into your bedroom, grabbed a small bag, and shoved some clothes in it. Jason rushed behind you, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes are wide, and he's in disbelief.

"W-wait. What're you doing??" He asks, trying to catch his breath.

"I- I can't, Jason. Listen, we both need space right now. You're going through something and won't let me help, and I.. I just feel so useless right now, okay? I don't know.. We just need a break, alright?" You tiredly say, throwing your bag over your shoulder.

You were about to pass him, but he blocks the doorway, and unfortunately, his large frame is in the way of any possible chance of getting through.

"Jason, move," you say, almost getting annoyed.

Tears start to sting his eyes. "No, stop, please, I- I'm sorry, I-"

"Enough, Jason!" You cried. "Some separation will he best for the both of us!"

Jason's knees began to feel weak. His legs trembled, and slowly, he fell to his knees. Your eyes widen, surprised at this new action.

Jason takes your hands in his. "Please- Please stay, I need you, oh God, please," he says so quietly. He moves your hands to rest on his forhead, his eyes tight shut with tears dropping one by one.

Never have you seen Jason so vulnerable. "I'm sorry, please, I'l be better! I'll... I'll tell you everything! Every single detail, just please don't leave," he cries.

You tried so hard to be the one to call a break. But you guess you love Jason too much. "You promise, Jay?" You sighed. The nickname made Jason's heart race and his head shoot up to look at you. He nods rapidly.

"Yes, yes. I promise. I'll tell you everything. Just please don't leave me alone. And olease, please don't leave after I tell you," he begs. Your brows knit together, confused as to what he could mean. You nod, and Jason's breaths are stuttered as he gets up and you lead him to the bed.

And he completes his promises. From when he lived in Crime Alley to when he became Robin to when he died. When he became Red Hood to when he made a truce with Batman. And to when he failed to save the kid last night.

He told you everything.

And you just stared at him. No wonder Jason had always seemed so strong.

Tears continued to stream down Jason's cheeks as he looked straight forward, refusing to look at you.

"Jay," you called out to him, making him look at you. Your hands meet his cheeks, caressing them gently with your thumbs. "You've been through so much," you say sadly. You bring his head down to your shoulder, your lips lingering on his forhead. "I wish I could've been more so I could help you."

Jason shakes his head. "Don't say that," he barely whispers. "You are more. You're enough. You've helped me so much. I'm sorry I dragged you into this life. Maybe separation is the best for us," his voice cracks.

"No," you reply. "I promised I'd stay. I don't break my promises. And I'm not staying just because I promised you. I'm staying because I love you. Nothing's going to change that."

A sob escaped his throat as Jason buried his face further into your neck.

He always believed he was so selfish. Keeping you for himself while he has one of the most dangerous lives. He always believed you deserved better. But you stay.

For him.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #jason todd is my life #titans jason todd #dc titans #i love jason todd #jason todd titans #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon

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mysterycitrus · 4 months

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Hey!! Love your art and your meta posts. I was wondering about your thoughts on something because I don't think I've ever really read about much of it in canon (might be missing something though), but do the batkids have their own Brucie Wayne-esque personas? I figure they'd be expected to act a certain way, like they've been taking in by a party loving play boy, they're gonna be a at least somewhat spoilt social butterflies right? I just can't stop thinking about the kids hitting like teenhood and having to adopt and put on that kind of act because it would be a little suspicious if nothing about Brucie rubbed off on them. Maybe they steal Bruce's cars or crash a gala, something staged just for the tabloids like that. Idk, I just find the idea of (most of) the kids not being raised anything like that and having to act up in the name of keeping their identities safe really interesting because I don't think they'd find it fun, I think it would actually gross them out to throw around money and act like brats.

lovely anon this is SUCH a fun question and i shall answer it in parts. the first is this — what is the purpose of the bruce wayne persona?

bruce created a specific public image of himself for several reasons — to deflect any suspicion that he’s batman, to justify his frequent disappearances from the public eye, and to be consistently underestimated by people he was in opposition with (gothams corrupt elite, the gcpd, etc). the popular interpretation of this is that he’s like a kardashian, but to be honest id say he’s a lot more like a donatella versace— relatively reclusive but who occasionally pops up doing the weirdest shit ever. he posts on dick’s insta like bruce WAYNE ❤️

wrt his kids, no, i don’t think many of them have that sort of glamorised persona. part of it is that the “gala” trope in fandom just…… doesn’t really exist in the comics? like bruce will take vicki vale to an event, or go to a luthercorp thing to gather intel, but the idea of everyone hitting up an event at the gotham four seasons is not a common story beat. and even then, again, the performance has a purpose outside of just being a distraction.

in particular, u have to consider how his kids are different from bruce. jason and dick were both lower class, if not actively below the poverty line and acting spoiled won’t win them any favours. cass straight up isn’t interested in that kind of performance. damian is honest to a fault. duke has his own family that he’s proud of. when u consider that damian and cass and duke and dick also aren’t white, u have to think about how acting like a glitzy idiot would help them in the same way it would bruce. short answer — it very much wouldnt. many people will think less of them regardless. it would be dehumanising, and because none of them have that same degree of disconnection from the standard person that bruce has, how would them being seen as spoiled idiots help them?

dick has always lived with civilian neighbours, had civilian jobs, and fostered civilian relationships. him being a cop was bad, but he takes a lot of pride in being someone who’s like… dependable. a good neighbour. jason is legally dead, but he wouldn’t have wanted to be seen as the dumb poor kid either. cass would probably play with peoples expectations of her, but not like an established persona that she has to take on. duke is, again, very attached to his family and where he grew up, and is very aware of assumptions people might make about that. damian would rather kill himself than pretend to be an idiot. tim, again, is a strong maybe, but i also don’t think he’d give a shit. he really values keeping himself as tim drake intact, away from robin. he wants to keep being himself.

i just think most of them would stay out of the public eye. remember — bruce isn’t active online. there is still massive control over released information about him, especially with babs. i think they would purposely make themselves boring and unassuming.

the short answer is that none of them, truly, possess bruce’s raw commitment to the bit.

#bruce Wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #Cassandra cain #duke Thomas #batman #damian wayne #nightwing #dc comics #red hood #robin #the ask and the answer

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rite4fun · 11 months

Text

soft hands

heyyy 🤪

i started this in the midst of my other writings- forgot about it and then i recently found it again and fell back in love with it so.. here it is finally!! // also my first request ever which is really exciting and special so i hope this doesn’t disappoint, i’ve spent the last two days perfecting it so if there is mistakes- idk man I have to stop looking at it before i go crazy 😭

requested by: @endlessvoidd

an angsty/fluffy/!!smutty!! fic based on this song - i.e. my interpretation into this.

18+ content

••

love is a fickle thing.

coming in many forms but always ending in similar fashion: heartache.

atleast that’s what it felt like to you. it was as if the whole world remained stagnant while your own went up in flames. but that’s what pain does to one, isolating them so only they feel as if there was no one else who could ever feel the way it made them.

this pain often took the shape of another human.

one that claimed another name, promising safety and care but never keeping to their word. it was a cycle they used, a ruse to get you under their control and you fell for it everytime.

a faux charming smile mixed with poisoned sweet words held in devilish hands.

your colorful heart so open for loving that it made you vulnerable to the ones who were willing to hold it. their rough hands gripping so tightly till you’d bruise only black and blue.

so now as the whole world burns, you had found solace in your own. it no longer felt like you were underwater, suffocating in the abyss of darkness that always seem to swallow you.

you’d been pushed to your limits, forced to become stronger and bolder in your decisions. you had too- in order to survive this new world where the only thing that mattered was living to see the next day. it was no longer a place that required such care or attention to minuscule feelings like love.

until you met him. daryl dixon.

someone with no smile, spoke very little words but otherwise soft hands.. someone who you never thought you’d fall for, especially in this seemingly mundane world.

but here you were..

it was like those pieces you left behind had come crumbling back into existence.

the colors of your broken heart, blooming together for another and no matter how hard you tried to deny the feelings, they would always be there, lingering into every touch, every gaze, every moment you had with him until it became too much to bare.

but even then, you’d do nothing.. never to push or pull him, you’d take whatever you could get because even without him reciprocating any feelings, it was the happiest you’d ever been.

••

violet, the selfless lover.

sweat glistened over his muscled arms, his sleeveless shirt accentuating his broad shoulders before dipping at his waist and hips that shift as he fiddles with his belt.

a familar sight: his back turned to you.

you lie in bed in the aftermath of your indulgences. the only covers having survived your rushed intimacy were the thin sheets that you pull up to your chest, shielding parts of yourself that he has already seen but now, not in a fit of hurried passion, it felt too vulnerable.

especially now, in the moments he quickly slips away into the night, void of live beings and caped into darkness.

your eyes flutter shut, ears catching the light sounds of his shuffling as he gathers himself. you swallow the suffocating words, the ones that ask him to lie back down with you.. to hold you, love you, touch you.

just this once, stay.

you repeat the words over and over in your head, hoping that somehow he would suddenly be able to read your mind but like clockwork, you hear him pause.

his motions freezing as you feel his gaze struck on your body, casted in the moonlight revealed from the open shades of the window that releases the heat of the room. you always wondered if in these moments he ever thinks about it.. staying.

laying down beside you as his hands caress the parts he had once gripped tightly in desire. your head upon his chest so you could listen to his heartbeat thudding softly against your ear. his arms wrapped around your frame, caging you in protectively.

but alas, it’s only seconds later, he’s moving again.

you steady your breathing, fighting every urge to twitch and allowing him to believe you have fallen asleep. you really aren’t sure who you do it more for: him, so there are no awkward goodbyes or yourself, so you don’t have to endure the pain that comes with his departure.

he always leaves though so your troubles never really vanish so you guess, in a sense it’s more for him.

you remember the first time it happened, after traveling together for so long with tensions high whenever you were near each other- it seemed inevitable. grappling at one anothers bodies in haste as you fought to stay quiet in hershels now cleared out barn.

embarrassingly that same night, you had expected something different. that it meant you no longer had to tip toe around the supposedly feelings between you both- except it appeared one sided when he left hurriedly after your secret escapade.

then you supposed it should have remained a one time thing but something kept pulling you both back towards the other and as time passed with more people added to your group, you figured you two would grow even further apart but no-

it wasn’t like he ever seeked you out but it was almost like he was always waiting, finding hidden spots wherever to succumb to your primal states before parting and acting as if you weren’t just moaning each others names in bliss.

maybe that’s the reason you continued to hold on so tightly, he kept coming back and despite his inability to show anything but desire towards you.. it felt like enough.

you felt like you could make it enough.

so you would act like it was all just a passing fleet of passion when it came down to it.. for him.

you can hear his steps around the room before a new pressure of weight covers your body, the welcomed warmth of the duvet setting your heart to burn.

only to be sizzled out by the sounds of his descending steps as he leaves the room, shutting the bedroom door softly before making his way down the stairs and out the front door, locking it with the spare key.

you sit up, gripping the thin sheet around your body as you move to stand at the open window. the streets remain dark but if you squint your eyes enough, you could make up the shape of his body, moving easily through the pitch black night.

the physical distance he puts between you rivals the emotional one that always sits heavily in your chest.

you watch as he approaches his home, the porch light turning on, making his body freeze at the bottom step for only a split second before he’s moving again, disappearing under the porch awning and eventually into the home.

your own home remains silent, quiet, still. completely void of anyone and anything but your soft breaths.

with the loss of some members of the community and the consistent rebuilding, new homes were becoming available. you once resided with the grimes family, michonne, carol and daryl.

until rick approached you all, offering you a place of your own. even before the world went to shit, you never lived alone. having a roommate of sorts or living with a boyfriend, and even when things got rough, your parents invited you in. the idea was unnerving, especially after living in close quarters with your newfound family. it was a change and you couldn’t understand why it made you so unsettled.. but a lot of things have changed since before and you assumed that everyone was trying to settle in more firmly, the grimes family deserved that more than anything so you figured you’d try.

maybe you, carol, and daryl could move into one home together?

but it was never spoken as an option, so you stood with shaky legs in the back of the living room as everyone looked to you in confirmation. you had refused to make eye contact with any of them, especially after carol piped up that daryl was welcome in her new home. isolating you without notice but you didn’t blame her, how could you?

there was plenty of chances for something to come of you and daryl but it didn’t. it wouldn’t, it seemed.

that leap of possibility lingered at arms length, yet felt untouchable.

so you agreed, following rick as he guided you to your very own home, placed conveniently right across the street from carol and daryls new home.

seemingly a physical representation of your inner battle, so close yet so far.

blue, the understanding lover.

there’s an overwhelming amount of yearning in your body as you watch him caress her forehead before pressing a soft kiss to it.

his hand is gentle in his touches, even from afar you can see the way in which everything he does is tender towards her.

for a second, you too, can almost feel the ghost of his touches, equally as soft but less loving and your heart aches at the thought.

you feel a bit ridiculous at being jealous of a baby. a sick baby at that.

“you ready?” your attention is pulled from the bittersweet scene to the woman that’s approaching you.

“‘course, you?” maggie hums with a grin before following your gaze that’s found it’s way back onto him.

“he’s always so good with her, hm?” you can only nod mutely, that ache beginning in your heart, falling to the pit of your stomach as you watch him conversate with rick who gently holds his babygirl in his hands- daryl loves on her with an equally soft touch.

one, your body desperately craves.

despite his hands physically being rough from the countless amount of hours he spends working with them, he had a way of knowing just how to handle you: so soft with the right amount of pressure to still excite you.

the only part missing was the consistency; the knowledge that he was yours as much as you knew he owned every bit of you.

even if he didn’t know it.

you shake your head as if it will physically rid your hopeless thoughts, changing your regard for checking your pack and making sure you’re prepared for the run.

shortly after everyone splits in farewells, six of you pile into a black suv for the trip. you settle in the furthest seats with maggie, rosita and tara infront of you as glenn drives with daryl in shotgun.

an unfortunate sickness had fallen on the community, not yet as severe as the one that had tragically taken place at the prison- but whatever it was spread fast and had sent a dent into the infirmaries medication.

so a pharmaceutical run was needed, especially after little judith herself fell ill.

the six of you volunteered, immediately finding a small community pharmacy close enough that had been scoped out as potential. it was a no brainer when it seemed nearly abandoned, very little walkers surrounding and every bit as hopeful as life could give right now.

upon arriving to the building, you split off into groups of two. you had expected to go with tara but found her already linking and walking off with rosita- and you’d never break up the dream team of maggie and glenn so.. you found yourself left with daryl.

there are very few moments where it’s ever just you two like this, without that fire burning between your bodies. you aren’t sure if that was just dumb luck or something daryl arranged so he never had to be with you alone. either way you never questioned it because sooner or later he would be in your bed, pressed skin to skin as you shared sharply sweet kisses and the feeling of being unwanted vanished.

green, the caring lover.

“shit” daryl curses as you wrap his leg is gauze, covering the wound he inflicted when a shelf fell onto him.

there’s an alarm blaring over your heads and the familar ghastly groans pounding on the pair of front doors that the rest of the four lean against to keep them out.

“did anyone check the back door?!” rosita yells.

“could hear them clawing at it too but i think it’s our best choice.. didn’t sound like too many but if we wait any longer, that could change” glenn speaks through his teeth as his feet slide against the linoleum flooring.

daryl winces when your rushed hands put too much pressure and you mutter a quick apology, “i can clear it”

“nah” you look up at him as he brushes off your offer.

“i don’t think we have much of a choice daryl, i can do it” your voice is quiet against the harsh banging, “we can’t wait it out, they can see us through the doors”

“i said ya ain’t doin’ it. jus’ let me think of somethin’” he makes to get up, his leg nearly collapsing under him in pain but your quick to reach out, grabbing onto his waist to steady him. you’ve never had your hands on him in this way, it feels different yet familar- heartwarming even as you brace his body against yours.

“well, can you think faster because i don’t know how much longer we have until they push through us!” rosita smarts at him, agitated with concern by the situation.

you lift your head to the flashing red lights above then twist it to the back of the pharmacy, “it looks like the alarms are set only upfront, they will be more attracted here than in the back.. i can do it”

you go to release daryl hastily, going to make a break for the back but he grabs your arm, clear irration oozing into his words, “are ya hearin’ me? … you three hold ‘em doors, we’ll let ‘em in one by one”

you stare in disbelief as everyone listens- tara and rosita holding onto one door while glenn has the other, maggie coming to stand next to you readily with her knife in hand.

your attention is then drawn to daryl who pushes your helping hands away in attempt to steady his stance alone, finding a comfortable balance as he readies his own knives.

the echoed alarm has nothing over the sound of your own heartbeat through your ears. there’s mild annoyance that builds in your stomach, in result of daryls doubt of your ability to do anything by yourself.

you find your feet moving backwards on their own accord, watching as they all follow directions but it’s not going to be enough against the growing dead outside- getting close enough to consider a horde. one of them slips, allowing two walkers to stumble in and as maggie and daryl are distracted, you take your sudden leave.

sprinting towards the back before anyone can say anything. the relentlessly pounding is just as loud and the hinges of the back door rattle but the piercing siren has lessened, giving you enough head clearance to search the back room for something to hold against the door. you plan to use the same tactic except it’s just you against the many that stand on the other side.

it’s the only way you can think of to ensure that everyone makes it home with the supplies, a hell of a lot quicker too.

the only things in your vincity is shelves stuffed with random boxes but it will have to do. you yank some down, hoping to lessen the weight of it before you’re shoving at it.

“come on..” you grunt in frustration but with one final harsh shove, it collapses over with a loud bang- a heavy box toppling down along your arm, cutting open a clean laceration from your inner elbow to your wrist, “fuck!”

ironic enough the fallen box now lays crumbled at your feet, busted open and spilling out its contents of bandages. there isn’t time to perfect the wrapping of your arm, nevermind control the consistent bleeding that quickly seeps into the cloth but it works for now.

adrenaline runs through your veins, keeping the pain to a minimum as you drag the shelf to the door, angling it so that it only has a sliver of space to crack open once it hits the fallen piece of metal.

your body feels heavy, exhaustion settling into your bones from this trip already. the idea of crawling into the warmth of your bed, sounded better than ever but it’s not time yet. there was still work to do and your people needed an out, you’ll be damned if daryls remark held you back from a potential opening.

you heave a deep breath, turning the knob just so the door is loose before backing up and readying your knife.

the first few walkers stumble through the crack one by one, easy enough to take out. in a short amount of time, you’d killed a dozen or so and you’re beginning to wonder how many more reside outside the door as you begin to tire out. there’s a pause and no more push through but you can hear them, their monstrous groaning floating through the crack.

you decide to take a breather, dropping your arms in fatigue but it’s the wrong time to rest as another walker squeezes through, having been forced through by another that stumbles in quickly after. you shove tiredlessly at the first one, gripping the second and collapsing to the ground with it as you stab it in it’s head. your knife is a lost cause inside the skull of the walker and you scramble back as the second one stumbles after you, it’s unstable body crumbling ontop of yours.

you have your hurt forearm rested on it’s neck as it’s teeth snaps at you grossly while the other hand pushes at it’s forehead. it’s been awhile since you’ve been so close to a walker like this. since arriving to alexandria, you and maggie worked along with deanna on building a new brighter future for the community.

as time passed, you found being inside the walls wasn’t so bad and the only time you itched to be out was when daryl would be gone on his weeks long recruiting trips.

he is what made alexandria feel more like home to you.

his insane judgement of character made you feel safe, so if he found that trust within those walls- so did you and every other person in your group.

that’s why you needed him to get back, why they all needed to make it back. alexandria would never be the same without him- without any of them.

you internally scoff at your overly ridiculous thoughts, even as you sweat so close to death itself, all you can think about is him.

but with thoughts of getting him out safely, comes a newfound strength as you let it’s forehead go, the walkers head dropping dangerously closer to your face as you scramble for the gun on your hip.

it’s a clean one shot before your throwing the walkers body to the side with a grunt, scurrying back in fear as your heart thuds painfully in your chest.

no matter how many times you’re faced with this new reality, it never fails to scare you shitless with the constant reminder of how living isn’t a promise and looms so dangerously over your head- or directly in your face.

a refreshing soft breeze comes from the cracked door, snapping you from your building anxiety and you hastily crawl to it, pulling it open more and finding the alley clear.

you smile in relief and as much as your body screams to rest, you’re running to grab the others to make a swift escape before anymore walkers can show up.

red, the passionate lover.

the thunderous clouds open for the loud torrents of rain creating a solemn ambience among the community.

similar to the way you feel as you lay on the couch, shades open to watch the droplets that hit the window before sliding down.

freshly showered with a clean bandage on your arm, wrapped in a sweatshirt far too big for your figure and fuzzy socks, you wallow in the warmth of your own home.

there’s a pounding at your front door that interrupts your thoughts, one that could almost rival the thunder released from the sky.

you pull a thin blanket from the couch, wrapping it around yourself as your sock covered feet slide across the wood flooring to the door.

pulling it open, the sky’s weeping shower is louder but what takes your attention is the soaking wet man that stands before you.

“daryl?” head to toe, his body is drenched. his clothes clingling to him, dripping onto your front doorstep. his hair beginning to wave as the tips leak water onto his shoulders and face, in which you finally take in his exasperated expression, “what’s wrong?”

“wha’s wrong?” his tone is full of frustration, “let’s start with tha’ stunt ya pulled earlier today, hm?”

confusion covers your features, your fingers gripping the blanket tighter around your body when a gust of wind and rain blows through, “what do you mean?”

daryl huffs, a hand coming up to swipe over his mouth roughly, “i mean.. ya makin’ a stupid decision tha’ could’ve costed ya, yer life!”

“what?” you can tell your inability to make sense of the conversation only frustrates him more but given that last time you saw him, you guys were fine- as far as him ignoring you, nothing seemed out of the ordinary and now he shows up at your home to yell at you? so yeah, you had a right to be a little confused.

“dun’ play dumb, i told ya the plan and ya ran off! decided playin’ with ya life was the way to go instead!” although it was just hours ago that you laid face to face with death, it felt like days and you no longer cared to linger on it anymore as you stand within the safety of alexandria.

“i made a choice. you have no right to insult me! it saved us, didn’t it?!” you hadn’t expected him to praise you for what you did, but his response to your actions that helped you guys make it back safely was unbelievable, had it been anyone else-

“at what cost?!” clearly you aren’t understanding what he’s saying as he grows more agitated by the second.

“what does it matter? it’s over daryl!” you grip the blanket in one hand as you toss the other out in annoyance.

“ya shouldn’t be risking ya life lik tha’.. fo’ anyone!”

“well i did!”

“why?!”

“because that’s what you do for someone you love!” your chest heaves with rattling breaths, “i-i wasn’t thinking about me, i just knew you had to get out, that’s all i cared about.. you getting home” you turn your head as you feel tears burn in your eyes.

it’d be silent if not for the rumbling downpour coming from the sky above as if the universe too, was upset.

“… ya love me?” bewilderment makes up his otherwise timid tone.

but you can’t face him, the humiliation of outing yourself too much to bare so you just nod your head abashedly, tear-filled gazed locked on a chipped part of the doorway.

“look at me” you can see his body move closer from the corner of your eye but you make no move to change positions.

body aflamed with embarrassment, frozen in time as your mind races through every outcome of this situation. all ending in familiarity: your heart laid crushed in the open, bleeding the many colors it holds. it’s like you can feel the ache of longing that follows as you rethink every moment you guys had together, clinging to the memories to cope with the overwhelming sadness that withers into your chest.

there is no time to mourn something you haven’t lost yet when a pair of hands cup your face gently, forcing your gaze to the sharp blue eyes of daryls.

the distance between your faces closing as his thumbs absentmindedly wipe the tears from under your eyes. the rise of your heartbeat causes your chest to heave with your deep breathes mixing with daryls as his body sways closer. his eyes never leave your face, taking in every inch as if he still can’t believe the words that you uttered so effortlessly in your emotional fit.

“ya mean it?” with your gazes locked, you can finally take in the hidden vulnerability that lies in between his mumbled words. unable to speak with the lump that settles into your throat, you can only nod feverishly in his grip but it isn’t enough as he shakes his head, “say it again” but you respond with your own head shake, finding it hard to grasp onto any words. his rough thumb brushes over your trembling bottom lip soothingly, his tone soft yet encouraging, “ya can, baby.. say it again”

the pet name slips from his lips seamlessly, breaking your resolve as your hand releases the blanket and instead, both reaching out to grip his forearms with soft dry sobs of the words over and over.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

daryl is quick to match your distress with comfort, wrapping one arm around your waist to hold your body flush against his, “i know, i know, i know.. ’s okay baby”

you allow yourself to fall into his arms with a light flush to your cheeks from embarrassment, so quick to fall apart at the slightest coaxing but you needed this. him. you needed him to understand just how much you felt for him and how overwhelming it all was.

his arms are strong, encompassing you in his body heat that lights a fire in your own. your arms snake around his neck, pulling his face closer and it’s enough for him to finally slot your lips together.

despite the growing fever of desire, the kiss remains slow but your grips on each other tighten as he shuffles your bodies into the house, shutting the door all the while keeping his lips attached to yours.

one of his hand slides down your body, gripping your thigh as a signal for you to wrap your legs around him, which you do with a quiet huff.

with blinded knowledge of the layout he takes you to the living room, laying your body gently on the couch.

you shiver at the lack of contact and his piercing stare as he takes in your delicate state. your hair fanning behind your head as the oversized sweatshirt you wear hikes up to your upper thighs, your legs bent yet closed innocently- revealing just the cusp of your bottom to him.

your eyebrows furrow at his longing gaze, poking his leg playfully with your sock covered foot which he grabs. you meet his sharp blue eyes and that growing fire in your stomach heightens at the hunger that lingers in them.

he seems to want to take his time, enjoying the sight of you but the need in you burns painfully for his touch.

tilting your head, you look at him from under your lashes, fluttering them prettily as you reach your hands out towards him.

he comes easily, settling over your body- it should bother you that his clothes remain wet and cold but it soothes your otherwise hot skin when his broad frame settles between your legs.

you’re pulling his lips to meet yours again, letting out a gasp at the sensation, sometimes you forget just how good you guys are together.

having spent years learning how each others bodies work; he knows exactly what touches will have falling apart while gasping his name and you know just how to move to have him desperately coming back for more- you two work together like a well oiled machine.

he lifts off of you, a whimper escaping your throat, “‘s okay baby, jus’ gotta take this off” he’s only able to swipe his signature vest off before you’re sweeping your upper body up to help him unbutton his sleeveless top, “eager, ain’t ya sweethear’?” his hand brushes pieces of your hair behind your ear, finger sliding down your neck and hooking into the crew of your sweatshirt.

you ignore his truthful remark, settling for pushing his shirt off his shoulders before pulling him back over your body, his bare chest pressing through the thick material of your own top yet you feel like you need more.

“more..” you squirm under him as his hands softly wander over your covered frame.

daryl only hushes you, his rough hands sliding under your sweatshirt, meeting the soft skin of your lower stomach, dipping up at your waist, tickling at your ribs until his fingertips skim just under your breasts. you arch beautifully into his hands, eyes hooded in lust as he watches your lips part in a quiet gasp.

your own hands grip at his muscled biceps, fingernails digging in- in anticipated pleasure. your body rolls, thrusting your hips into his in a desperate search of something to ease the throbbing pressure building between your legs.

he seems to take pity on you, lowering his body until he’s eye level to your stomach. his hands bunch up the fabric of your sweatshirt, lifting it just enough to reveal your belly button.

he places kisses under it, a warm and gentle peck that has you sucking your stomach in at the gesture. your hands grip his as you look down, his unruly hair falling into his face, slightly covering his now darkened blue eyes that glanced up every so often to enjoy the way your features contort in bliss. his lips remain on your skin, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he deems fit as he travels up. he keeps up with the lifting of your top, every new layer of revealed skin is left with heated, wet kisses that the air cools over- the sensation of it all, sending a thrilling shiver throughout your whole body.

you can’t seem to control your hips, bucking everytime daryl stops and takes a nibble at your skin before licking over it soothingly.

with your sweatshirt finally bunched under your pits to reveal your breasts to the open air, nipples hardening at the change of temperature. daryl kisses in the valley of your chest before humming to himself when he gets his lips around one of your nipples, his scruff scratching over the soft skin while one of his hands finds your other breast, calloused fingertips running over the nipple.

the change of position has daryls hips pressed right against yours, his jean covered bulge digging into your thinly covered core. a simple roll of your hips has your eyes rolling back, a choked gasp releasing from your mouth at the newfound pleasure.

daryl has switched to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the last before he can’t take anymore of your quiet noises- lifting up to take your lips into another biting kiss. his hands grappling to rip off the sweatshirt over your head as he settles back on his haunches, only a sliver of blue visible in his eyes as he takes in your body - only softening a little as they gaze over your bandaged arm.

your legs settle over his thighs but the more he stares, the more unsure you become and you find your knees turning in- in an attempt to hide the most vulnerable part of yourself but daryl doesn’t let you get far, immediately gripping them to push them back out. one hand holds the crease of your knee, keeping your legs apart while the other slips down to your covered core, fingertips dancing over the wet patch of your panties.

the same way he seems entranced by your figure, you can’t take your eyes off him. on normal circumstances, he never took his time: seemingly too overwhelmed with desire to play things out, only taking exactly what he came for and never lingering after.

now though, his hands eagerly pause to truly appreciate whatever details he’s found of your body. his eyes lost in the way you move, the way you look.. finally he gets the chance to fully indulge the parts of you he never got to take advantage of in your unspoken situationship.

you huff as your hips press more firmly into his hands, daryls eyebrows raising in amusement at your clear impatience.

“jus’ wanted ta look at m’ girl” his mocking tone only burns the flames hotter in your body, “tha’s wha’ ya are, hm? mine?” he pushes your panties to the side, your dripping core pulsing in anticipation. he drags his fingertips through the wetness, collecting it before spreading it messily over your lips. he barely skims over your clit but the teasing has your senses on high and you find yourself unable to stop the twitch of your hips, “say it” his motions stop, fingers hovering over you as you meet his darkened gaze.

“i’m yours” your voice is broken, meek and so so beautiful to him, “please, ‘m yours”

maybe another time you’d feel embarrassed about being so desperate but the softness of his hands: the loving way he tends to your neediness has you on cloud nine.

“mm, ‘ve got ya” his gravely voice is only getting deeper, rumbling deep into his chest as he allows two thick fingers to slide into your pulsating hole. after years of being together, your body takes to him easily, opening to accommodate his digits.

“yes…” you hiss as you toss your head back, legs twitching as they threaten to close around his hand, a weak attempt to lock in the pleasure somehow.

daryl only grunts before his fingers are moving, hooking them everytime they slide out to target your gspot, thumb brushing against your throbbing clit. his pace is slower than normal, dragging out the sensation until you forget your name.

your impending orgasm is closer than you thought, his previous teasing ministrations having more of an effect on your body than the rushed ones you’ve endured before- not that those weren’t good but this, this felt stronger and harder to hold back.

as if sensing the same thing, daryls fingers pick up the pace until a slight squelch of your slick is heard over your gasping moans.

“gunna come fo’ me?” it’s sort of useless of him to ask as your eyes threaten to fall into the back your head, your body rolling into his hand uncontrollably and the obvious mewls of pleasure that spill from your lips- yet, you answer in a clumsy nod.

daryl doubles down in his actions, somehow shuffling even closer as he keeps his fingers inside of you and only thrusting deeper with curled fingertips, thumb messily moving over your sensitive clit.

the choked out moan you let out breaks in half into a high pitched squeal, knees helplessly knocking together while your hands reach out to grasp any part of the couch, you could get your hands on as your high hits.

“tha’s it..” the words are more of a growl as daryl watches you fall apart, your cries a muttered mixture of his name and sobs of pure pleasure until your left sinking into the couch with watery doe eyes, flushed cheeks, messy hair, and the heavy rise and fall of your naked chest.

his fingers only linger inside you for a moment more before pulling them out, lifting them to his mouth in a seemless action. he hums happily around his soaked digits as you whimper at the sight, shaky thighs opening back up despite your still throbbing core.

his hands fall to caress the smooth surface of them, eyes lost in the mess of your cunt until your hands reach out, fingers barely tickling over the bulge in his jeans. his hips push forward more and the response is enough for you to lift up, scrambling to unbutton his jeans and hurriedly pulling his cock out from his briefs.

he sits heavy in your palm, angry red tip with decorative blue veins down his shaft. your mouth waters at the sight and you go to lean forward, prepared to make him a mess as much as he did you but a hand grips the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair to tilt your eyes up at him.

your eyes are lust blown and so very eager, only to twinkle with confusion at his next words, “i’ll come too soon”

you pout, “want you too”

at your indignant tone, he cracks a small smile. hand coming up to cup your chin, thumb brushing softly over your lips before falling onto your tongue when you open your mouth- keen on showing him exactly what he is missing out on when the slick muscle swirls around his finger, cheeks holllowing sharply as you bob your head sinfully.

you can feel his cock twitch violently in your hand, your own thumb swiping over his tip to the oozing precum that continuously drips out.

entranced by you, it takes daryl a second to fully pull away: enjoying the suction of his digit and the soft pull of your hand on his cock but he finds the control to back away.

your eyesbrows pull together in confusion, a flash of hurt covering your features when he stands up from the couch- a sudden doubtful feeling that this isn’t what you thought it was settling into your head.

“not going anywhere, jus’ takin’ my jeans off sweethear’” his reassuring words ease the tension in your body as you melt back into the couch. his briefs come down with his jeans, revealing his familiar broad body to your eyes, except now, you’re able to fully take him in: fully appreciate his scars, his muscles, his tattoos.. everything that makes him- him. the many reasons you’ve found yourself falling for him before you could even catch yourself, “wha’s that look for?”

you hadn’t even realized you were staring at him a certain way as he settles back inbetween your legs after helping you disgard the last few articles of clothing on your own body.

you squirm under his tickling hands as they graze over your body in a loving manner, you release of sigh of bliss at the motions. his fingers dancing around your waist until you look back into his eyes that hold a questioning gaze.

“just.. love you” you shrug nonchalantly, breaking the intense gaze as your fingers reach out the fiddle with the ones still at your waist- an uncertainty to your already fragile tone.

an obvious fear that you may say the wrong thing, running him off to the hills after getting only a sliver of what could be.

your not sure what to expect but it isn’t his fingers tangling into yours, locking them together and squeezing to gain your attention again.

his chest presses against yours as he leans closer to your face, pecking your lips softly a couple of times before mumbling the words bashfully against them, “love ya too”

you’re at a loss of words, gasping softly as your hands untangle from his to grasp at his face, fingers brushing the stray hairs away so you could get a clear look of his face.

his sight lowers, staring more at your chin in obvious embarrassment, alongside the flash of red that spreads over the apple of his cheeks.

you bite your lip in hopes of curbing your amused smile but you can’t- too overjoyed with his words as you force him to look at you and as if seeing the clear happiness of your own features, he fights to hide his own.

“say it again” you sweetly mock his words from earlier, making daryl rolls his eyes playfully, grumbling as he shifts above you. the new position having his cock pressed against your core- sending a thrilling shock of heat through both you as if you had forgotten where you guys were.

a gasp releasing from both of your mouths as you move against one another, searching for that pleasurable feeling again.

you’re just finding a good rhythm, timing the roll of your hips perfectly with his so that the head of his cock nails your swelling clit everytime but he sits back- an action that has you whining in protest.

“quit tha’” he slaps a hand on your thigh, your body jerking at the delicious sting it brings, before he is guiding his cock to your slick hole. your senses are in overdrive after your first orgasm, the slow stretch of him pushing into you is a tad overwhelming as you reach out for one of his hands. his expression softens, his free hand rubbing soothingly up and down your thigh, even leaning over to press a little kiss on your knee.

your eyes are closed, chest heaving in deep breaths as you feel him enter you inch by inch slowly. in a normal fit of hurried passion, driven by nothing but lust, these moments are easily skipped over. fast paced with only one goal; release.

but now, as you grip onto one hand, his other softly grazing over your body with the odd kiss: it’s nothing but in the rawest form of love.

the simplicity of intimacy.

pressed all the way in, you find your body quickly morphing around the intrusion of him and your eyes finally open, finding his own on your face.

“‘kay?” physically feeling his small loving touches give no justice to the way his eyes glimmer fondly, a small hint of relief in them as if he has been waiting equally as long for you as you have for him.

maybe he has.. maybe his lack of emotions was a protective wall around his heart incase you didn’t truly feel anything for him- other than the odd fleeting need of release.

but you do, you always have and you try your best to convey that through your own expression while nodding to his question.

he chooses in that moment to move, sliding his cock out and slowly thrusting back in.

“ah..” your lips open in a blissful gasp, hips rolling down to meet his.

“yeah?” his tone is soft, hand coming down so his thumb could rub at your swollen clit, the shock of pleasure having you clench around his sensitive cock: a reaction that has him groaning, body slouching until his naked chest rests against yours, his face falling into your neck as his thrusts become more desperate.

your free hand comes to rest on the back of his head, tangling into the unruly strands as he bites at your collarbone with growls of pleasure. your still linked hands press further into the couch, now next to your head as this new position only allows your bodies to slide against each other but it’s enough. your sensitivity bringing your second release faster than the first while daryl heads for his first one after holding back for so long.

his hips stutter against your constant rolling, an attempt to make this last a little bit longer but you only torture him further- intentionally squeezing your walls around him.

“fuck” he pants hotly against your neck, “‘m gonna come if ya don’ stop”

“want you too” you huff back as your motions double down, the combination of your cunt clenching around his thick pulsing cock and the consistent sway of your body against him only pushes him closer to coming but he no longer fights it.

your stomach is tightening in heat as you yank his hair, forcing his head to come out from your neck, teeth clashing a bit clumsy as you pull his mouth to yours.

“do it” you egg him on, lips barely brushing his as he grits his teeth, “‘m yours, yeah? show me”

your bodies slide easily with the building layer of sweat on your skin from the amount of exertion you both use to challenge the other.

“fuckin’..” daryl presses his lips harshly against yours before his hips jerk sharply as he cums, groaning loudly and dropping his forehead on yours as he pants through the buzzing pleasure.

the sight has you nearing your own orgasm, gasping brokenly as you feel his cock twitch, painting your walls white and claiming you in a primal way that sends tingles from your stomach to your toes.

“please.. ‘m so close” you beg prettily as daryls orgasm passes, his attention immediately focusing on your approaching second one as he thrusts shallowly: so deep you feel him hitting spots that bring tears to your eyes, momentarily blurring your vision.

the quick build up has you babbling nothing but nonsense and the odd slip of his name. he has to lean back to take in the enticing vision you’ve become, head thrown back with your eyes shut tight, pink plump lips open to let out the most delicate sounds.

both of your hands now hold his biceps in a deathly grip, trying to find something to ground you as your high gets closer.

daryl tips forward to bite playfully at your chin, “look at me sweethear’”

you whimper before complying, dropping your head down heavily to peer up at him through wet lashes. he holds the eye contact as his hips increase in pace and force, now with his hands free: one settles next to your head, balancing his body above you while the other grips at your waist, pulling you down to meet his.

your second orgasm teeters on the edge of release and it’s like daryl can sense it, leaning down to connect your lips once more before mumbling against them, “‘m girl looks so pretty, hm? tha’s it… gonn’ come one more time fo’ me? promise i’ll take care of ya, let me see sweethear’.. told ya i love ya”

the heartfelt words send you over, your hands pulling him closer as you arch up into him. your eyes roll to the back of your head, cunt clenching tightly around his sensitive cock and thighs trembling around his hips. your cries of pure joy are followed by dry sobs as you try and catch your breath after such an intense high.

daryl is quick to meet your fragile state, petting your hair down as he places small kisses all over your cheeks, nose, corner of your lips, chin, neck, anywhere he could reach as you go through the full motions of your orgasm.

when your body drops heavily back into the couch, your eyes are shut in exhaustion, fully residing in his sweet pampering. the ticklish feeling of his scruffy beard against your neck has you giggling breathlessly, which only results in him groaning in response as you unconsciously squeeze around him.

he lifts to fully pull himself out of your body, both of you hissing in mild discomfort. for a split second as he removes his body completely and stands, you expect him to begin putting his clothes on, preparing to take his usual swift leave but instead he reaches under your body, lifting you bridal style.

“daryl!” you squeal as your arms wrap around his shoulders, an amused smirk falling onto his face as he carries you up the stairs to your ensuite bathroom in silence.

your next actions are equally as quiet, him leaving to grab towels and clothes while you use the restroom and begin the shower. standing infront of the mirror, you take in the new lovebites that scatter around your naked body, luckily in spots you can hide easily. a flush taking over your features even more when he appears in similar fashion: completely nude with scratches and nail indents- a true mess you’ve made of one another.

he hides a coy smile as he saddles behind you, taking in the mere sight he created upon you. you shiver when his hands settle on your hips before slipping to wrap around your front, pulling your back into his chest as he pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

all of his motions tender and loving- something you’ve yearned after for years from him.

and it’s finally happening, a little quicker than you thought too but maybe a little bit of coaxing from both sides is all you guys needed to fall into the right rhythm.

you feel a bit ridiculous that it took this long but the reality of it happening now, you can’t seem to linger on anything other than pure happiness as he holds you so closely.

his blue eyes peek up from behind your shoulder, “‘kay?”

your eyes sparkle with newfound warmth, “i’m okay, you?”

he playfully nibbles at your shoulder, tightening his hold on you even more as you laugh delightfully in response.

the shower is quick, intimate, soft and loving. both of you tending to one another as if you’ve done it for years and maybe you have in your own odd ways- daryl always keeping an eye out for you on supply runs, making sure you had enough for dinner even if it meant giving up some of his, bringing back things he knows you’ll like but gifting them anonymously while you loved him unconditionally, selflessly more giving than taking, accepting his many flaws and mistakes, understanding when he needs space, caring for him in all the ways he would allow you from afar.

he felt like he had a lot of making up to do but once again, you didn’t care as you laid upon his naked chest. freshly cleaned with minimal clothing on, your bodies lay above the sheets, basking in the cool breeze that flowed through the cracked window of your bedroom. the aftermath of the storm bringing glimpses of sunlight and light wind.

a certain calmness relaying over the both of you.

your leg was thrown over his hips, warm body pressed entirely to his side as your head rose with the slow rise and fall movement of his chest, the beating of his heart thudding softly in your ear as one of his hands softly rub your back, the other splaying across his own stomach, loosely wrapped around the wrist of your hand that continues to trace hearts on his chest.

if there was a way to touch you, he was doing it- enjoying the fact that you too, wanted this and diving head first into everything clumsily but oh so sweetly.

the heavy weight of his arms around your body and the warm consistent press of his hands was only a constant reminder that this was infact real.

he was here to finally just stay.

and while you know that this only the beginning, that both of you had to have real, long, uncomfortable conversations about your feelings- this was more than enough for now.

just you, him and his soft hands.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader fic #norman reedus #the walking dead #twd x reader #daryldixon #rite4fun #romantic pairing #light angst

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mwrmaidluvz · 11 months

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rockstar!hobie x black!fem!reader - where the reader is his makeup artist and she falls for him during their time together and one day before a show hobie makes eye contact w/ her while she does his makeup and she gets all nervous and she confesses her feelings for him without thinking then smooch smooch

Unexpected romance ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ 🎸

✎ᝰ: Aged up! Rockstar Hobie x Black! Fem reader, I tried to make this like a lil spice cause im just that girl but..I don’t think it kinda came out how I interpreted it to be like in my head but my heart is melting tysm for the requests and love! I deleted a request I replied to by accident and idk how to get it back 😭 pls help. I also wrote this fully smut with aftercare and everything and It came our so bad as I read it so I just kept it like this. Please make more requests guys ! I’m mostly drawn to Miles , Earth 42 Miles and Hobie and Miguel so yea!! I need to practice more 💀, so be patient because more is coming soon! Not proof read btw

“Hey Hobsta’ ”

You said turning around to face the Punk rockstar. He sat down in your makeup chair,

“I told you not to call me tha’, didn’t I? Yk I ain't big about labels’.” He winked then, watched you shuffle around your desk for makeup. You gave him the most devious smirk that screamed, Idgaf as you turned around with your supplies. You then looked down at him before doing his eyebrows, Your titties where right in front of his eyes and nose, he was staring at them. They where just pulling him in a trance, longing, to be touched and squeezed and-

"Hobie? You good?" You say snapping him out of his titty dream.

"M?' Yea luv' just peachy."

You then, lock eyes with him, god, this boy was dangerous. He was gorgeous.

"You seem a bit nervous hun." He smirks. You then move quickly snapping out of your fantasy to get an eyeshadow brush. You cover it up in black eyeshadow and continue his makeup. A moment of awkward silence until you break it.

“Who’s the lucky guy that’s got you all Head over heels hmm?” Hobie says

"It's you.'" You mumble.

It takes him a second to process what you had just said. "Huh?"

“I-I nevermi-“

Your glossy lips come in contact with soft plump lips. You jump in suprise ruining his eyeliner. He stands up and watches how you’re eyes go from looking down at him before looking way up to him. Hobie gently pins you against the dresser/table. The cold table pressing against your exposed backside, due to your lace crop top. Hobie kisses you and you guys stay like that for a while until you both remember. You have to breathe. You both pull back panting from the intimate moment you both just shared. You then lean in and wrap your hands around his neck. And the kisses become more sloppy, more needy, Hobie wants to feel and explore every single curve on your body. You slightly moan as he slides his tounge into your mouth. You open your mouth for more access, the room is filled with open mouth moans from you and groans and praises from Hobie. Drool escapes from your lips and Hobie asks,

“You sure you wanna do this hun’?” Hobie says

“I am. But don’t you have to be on stage in 14 minutes?”

“ ’ll give us enough time.”

#into the spiderverse x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #smut #fluff #Spiderpunk #atsv

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anxious-witch · 3 months

Text

So, Jan and Nace photoshoot analysis. This will definitely be long, and idk how coherent I will be. As always this is entirely subjective, this time maybe more than ever. I am up for friendly discussions and disagreements, but also after today if you are a dick, I will block you.

Anyway.

So let's go pictures by pictures first and then observe how they interact. We start off with the top one, that almost seems like it was two individual shots first, but go glued together. To focus on Nace first, he is looking directly into the camera, his face completely visible, but his hair and body is in the shadow. His leather jacket is even covering his neck. He is in "full armor", except for his face. His face having a layer of combativness only add to that imagery.

Now to focus on Jan. I'd say he is in a similar state, his stare perhaps even more defiant, as if daring us to judge. His face is half covered by his hair, which makes sm sense in a way that we know Jan is a quite private person. He doesn't want people to full see him behind a curtain. Some things are private and he doesn't want to show us everything.

I also find it interesting that these pictures have less contrast than the ones we go later, as if there is additional layer of gray over them. Like they weren't sure it was just yet time to full pull the curtain away from their intimate moments, making them softer and more blurry. As someone else pointed out, it's giving a vibe of them being in the shower, the hot stream muddyijg up the pictures.

Then, right below it, we have Jan and Nace doing an Inuit kiss, their noses touching. And my god, I am so insane about this complete shift in perspective. They aren't looking into the camera, but at each other, with an almost painfully soft expressions.

What struck me as really interesting is that with Kris and Bojan's shoots, they were the most honest and open in the pictures where they look into the camera. Here, it's the opposite. In moments where they are focused on each other, you get the feeling they aren't even aware they are being observed. Looking into the camera, to the viewers seems uncomfortable.

Then, we have this set. Top one resembles first one from the set, except for few significant changes. It's clearly one photo, not two separate ones glued together. Jan is closer to Nace, as if he moved close to protect him. Also another thing that I find interesting, although I am not sure of it was purposeful or simply a trick of the light but! In all pictures where they are together, it looks like they both have just a bit of smudged eyeliner. And I will even go as far to speculate it might be on purpse as if to imply their facade is getting smudged. They can't hold it in place anymore.

In picture two(my favorite, my beloved). We get them favung each other once again, and this time, Nace is openly laughing and Jan is smiling and looking at him with what I will dare say is the closest to adoration.

Jan's eyes are open and more visible, unlike from the first shot, where they were mostly covered by his hair. Almost as if seeing Nace in a happy and relaxed state made him show off a bit more of himself.

Last picture in this set has Jan looking at the camera, his hand clasped over Nace's mouth and Nace has his eyes half close, blind to the viewer, only focused on Jan.

And, okay. This is where my interpretation loses any pretense of objectivity, but I simply can't see this any other way. I read this as Nace being blind to them being watched so constantly and perhaps saying something that should-by Jan's standards-stay private. He is, unlike Nace, looking directly to us, and looks caugh, out of breath.

There is also that aspect of protectivness too-if he can stop Nace from revealing something us as views are not meant to hear, perhaps he can protect him from it.

Now, to focus on their separate pictures. Or well, mostly separate. Let's go with Nace's first.

To start with the top picture, Nace looks both tired and defiant here, staring directly at the camera. His arms are crossed over his chest and he is gripping his shirt very tightly, pulling it away from his arms and towards his chest.

Again, throwing objectivity out of the window because I simply cannot be bothered today, but. This reads to me sm like he is showing off his tattoos and hiding chest? As if he wishes to be judged by art he choose for himself. It could also tie into the fact that due to some body issues, his arms are truly something he likes to shows off in comparison to the rest of his body.

Second picture on the left is connected. Once again, he is not looking at the viewer, unaware he is being observed and thus, showing how under the facade of intensity and defiance, the pressure is getting to him.

Third picture is SO INTENSE. Nace is gagged by some sort of fabric and the shadow/makeup around his eyes is the most intense. He looks the most brooding and his features look almost twisted. Like he is being silenced and put in the shape he doesn't want to be in.

Then, we get this. What a transformation. The pure softness, the trust in Nace's eyes here. It's literally giving the intimacy of sharing an intimate moment with a lover to me, especially with the way these are positioned. Like Nace is laying down and softly looking up and then almost bashfully lowering his gaze. I am genuinely unwell with how intimate this looks.

Now, THIS. We have Jan, staring at the camera, pulling Nace closer to himself. Nace is standing with his back to us.

This picture once again shows to me of how protective Jan feels over Nace. This is giving such "Don't you dare touch him" vibes, it's insane. Jan's hair is messy and untaimed, and still half hiding his face and yet, he is not turning away. Because turning away would mean leaving Nace vulnerable so instead he faces the camera head on while providing a safe space for Nace.

And at last, two solo photos of Jan. First one has Jan showing off his painted nails, which we don't see in any of the other pictures. His face is half covered in both pictures, first with the hand and hair and the other with the hair only.

In the first picture, he is still looking at us, almost as if saying, "Are you watching? Do you see what I am showing?" While in the other one, he is looking at something away from the camera, in an almost resigned way. He is tired of the preformance, of being on guard. He is just letting hinself be observed.

Another thing that was pointed out to me was white frame for Nace vs black frame for Jan. And not to go totally off the rails at that, but-Nace providing a light to Jan, a hope of brightness and warmth, which Jan provides the comfort of dark, safe place for Nace is just bfjxnxkdjx.

Alll in all, I absolutely adored these and I am half asleep so I probably forgot half the stuff I wanted to say so please feel free to add on your thoughts.

#joker out #rio rambles #jance #jan peteh #nace jordan #rio's analysis

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

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Idk if you've already posted about this but opinions on Jamil's relationship with Kalim?

I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about the Scarabia duo’s dynamic before, although not in this broad of a sense 🤔 I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try and condense my thoughts?

I think Kalim and Jamil’s relationship is one of the most complex among the core cast of 22. To simplify, it’s similar to “frenemies”, but it runs much deeper than that. There is a relationship on an individual level, but that in of itself also speaks to the expectations places on them in-universe , as well as real-world cultural differences.

I won't bore you with a summary of Jamil and Kalim's history I'm going to assume you did the required reading for that/j, but essentially their conflict is this: Jamil's family, the Vipers, have serviced Kalim's family, the Asims, for generations. Kalim sees Jamil as a childhood friend that has grown up alongside him, but Jamil sees Kalim as an ignorant and useless master. Jamil doesn't want to live this life of servitude, nor does he want to keep playing second fiddle to Kalim by downplaying his own abilities to maintain the illusion of Kalim being better than him. When this is revealed in book 4, Kalim tries to apologize to Jamil and even insists that they can still be friends or just start over as rivals. This offer is swiftly rejected by Jamil, who claims he wants nothing to do with Kalim anymore. Come book 5 though, Jamil informs us that he has decided to stay by Kalim's side for now, as it just isn't feasible for him to "break free" right away (Jamil wants to work on rebuilding his reputation, which has taken a plummet since book 4).

Now, before I move on with my thoughts, I want to point out a difference in how EN and JP presents Jamil and Kalim's relationship. JP is very clear in delineating that Jamil is a servant and Kalim is the master. Meanwhile, EN obfuscates the true nature of their relationship by labeling Jamil an "employee" and Kalim as the "employer", which come across as less of a power dynamic than that of servant and master and thus dampens the seriousness of his eventual emotional breakdown.

Another major difference which may impact how you see the duo is some book 4 dialogue changes. When asked by Grim why he doesn’t stand up to Kalim, Jamil very explicitly says in JP that Kalim’s father could make the Viper family suffer for it. In EN, this was changed to Jamil complaining that his parents would lecture him. In the original JP text, Jamil then continues and says that his whole family would be put out on the streets due to his own selfishness, and that’s something he won’t allow to happen. He also remarks that “this is the fate of those born a Viper”, referring to generational trauma. In EN, this doesn’t happen; Jamil just implies he doesn’t want to get scolded, which is admittedly a much… lesser consequence than what was stated in JP.

Please note that these differences between the original script and the localization may affect how some fans interpret Kalim and Jamil's relationship.

These are things I've mentioned in other discussions of "potential solutions" to this conflict, but I'll repeat them here before going into more detail since they are relevant. In book 4, Kalim offers Jamil whatever he wants (even the dorm seat and Kalim going home to his family). To this, Jamil refuses and states very clearly that "as long as Kalim exists", he can never be content. I feel that oftentimes this is interpreted very literally, as in "Jamil wants to kill Kalim because he hates Kalim and/or hates serving Kalim". But just because a character says one thing doesn't mean it's what they actually mean. If you think about it, what does killing Kalim do for Jamil? Aren't there countless other Asim siblings he could be sent to serve once Kalim is gone? What Jamil is literally saying does not make sense.

The other way to interpret his words is that Jamil is using Kalim as a scapegoat for all of his frustrations with larger problems that have no physical form or simple solution to them. Recall that their arrangement has been going on for several generations now—Jamil's parents, too, were given no choice in whether or not they wanted to devote their lives to the Asims, but it's all they've known and all they will enforce onto their own children to keep the cycle going. This is the root cause of Jamil's suffering—but he isn't exactly a time wizard, and there isn't a simple solution to something that has been brewing for hundreds of years. It's easier for him to cope with the unfavorable circumstances by directing his hatred towards someone convenient. And who could be more convenient to blame than the young master Jamil is forced to serve? He becomes the symbol, nay the face, of what Jamil detests about the system that put him here. This is a case of generational trauma and Jamil not knowing how to cope with it other than lashing out at someone who is unaware of his suffering.

On the other side of this equation, Kalim gets a lot of flack for not noticing Jamil's pain and not intervening to help him out despite claiming that he cares for Jamil. The is coming from an omnipotent perspective (as in, we have all the information so we feel entitled to cast judgment on the characters), rather than from Kalim's perspective. We, the audience, understand Jamil's inner turmoil due to how the game presents us with each OB boy's backstory. Kalim doesn't get to have that. He may be an empathetic individual, but he also isn't a mind reader. Jamil actively hides his true resentment from Kalim. And if you were in Kalim's shoes, given everything you want and praised endlessly, why would you suspect your childhood friend, who is always at your side, to hate of you or to hate working for you (especially when Kalim is the type of person to blindly trust others)? Of course he would be totally oblivious. The Asims are so obnoxiously wealthy and privileged that they can afford to shelter their children from the harsh realities of the world, and that includes the plight of those that toil for their family. Kalim is not used to people telling him he's wrong or he sucks or he can't have something; it's how he was raised and in part why he remains largely ignorant of the real world. He shouldn't be faulted for how he grew up and the limited worldview that resulted from it; that’s something he cannot control. What he can control is his own behavior, and that’s why we see post-book 4 as he takes steady strides to earn recognition rather than be handed it simply for existing.

On the topic of Kalim intervening (whether that is through speaking with his own father and/or speaking to Jamil's parents), well... Firstly, I don't think Kalim is someone who would intentionally keep another in a bad situation out of malice or out of selfishness/not wanting to lose Jamil (as some have suggested). Yes, he deeply values Jamil's company, but I don't think he would keep someone with him knowing that they would be completely miserable even if he would be happy. Kalim is someone who cares so much for the wellbeing of others, especially his friends. He will literally give you the world at the slightest inconvenience. I suspect that there is another reason why he hasn't spoken to an adult about what went down: and that's actually consideration for Jamil’s situation.

Let's imagine a scenario where Kalim does approach his dad or the Viper parents. What exactly would he say? I suppose Kalim doesn't necessarily need to tell them about the OB, but just telling them "Jamil is not happy doing this" may not be enough on of itself to invoke a change of mind. To the Asims, they get capable people they can trust and keep close to them. To the Vipers (the parents), they are compensated for their work (Jamil implies the Vipers are quite well-off, though not to the same extent as the Asims) and are provided job stability. I don’t think either side would be willing to end a long-standing arrangement like what their families have so quickly just because there is one open instance of discontent. It is practically tradition and mindset at this point. The groups are mutually benefitting (at the cost of individual freedoms). Letting go of that isn't as easy as deciding whether or not it would be pleasant to be punched; it isn't a binary of "freeing the genie" or "keeping the genie bound to the lamp", there will inevitably be a mess left in its wake to clean up after. Again, this is generational trauma which has been normalized for generations and generations. It cannot be solved with a single conversation, the same as all the other OB boys' traumas.

Let’s say that Kalim does spill the beans about Jamil’s OB in an effort to convince them then (assuming they’d need some extreme justification). Wouldn’t that just make everyone panic and further damage Jamil’s reputation? What would the Asims and the Vipers think of him? Maybe Jamil would be released from his duties out of concern for Kalim’s safety, but what would this do to the Viper family as a whole? Jamil mentioned they could be thrown out onto the streets if they were dismissed from the Asims or found out to have so much as spoken out against Kalim. That fear could become their reality.

Another variant of "Kalim could do something about it" is simply "Kalim can release Jamil on his own". In book 5, Jamil even says that he will continue to be Kalim's aid "until Kalim dismisses him". So why not give Jamil the freedom he wants? Kalim himself seems pretty receptive to the idea, or at least to what he views as a very simple solution. Well, 1) there's no way their families wouldn't find out and question it, they are teenagers and cannot just give the middle finger and proceed to do whatever they want, and 2) again, consideration for Jamil. (It could also be said that the current Kalim just isn’t mature enough or emotionally ready to let Jamil go, but we’ll save this point to discuss later.)

Jamil cannot leave of his own will because he worries about what that would mean for his family and their livelihood. (Again, this harkens back to the line he had in JP where he said the Vipers could be thrown out into the streets.) They could get jobs doing something else, sure—but their reputations may be forever stained by departing from the Asims (especially if Kalim basically fires him). They could be scorned, ostracized, maybe even blacklisted, no matter how amicable the departure is. Kalim being Kalim would offer to pull strings to smooth things over for Jamil—but the thing is, that’s probably not what Jamil wants. He wants to be able to live free from the Asim’s influence, and likely has too much pride to accept assistance from them.

I would argue that social shame is a very subtle yet looming threat for the Scarabia duo, and particularly Jamil (especially if you look at the original Japanese text). Social shame is something that is prominent in Japan, and this aspect of Kalim and Jamil's story may not translate well for western audiences. Japan is a collectivist culture. That means the status of the group (the Viper family in this case) is more valued than the status of the individual (ie Jamil). In western countries, this is reversed and the individual is seen as more important than the group (individualism). Because of this, western audiences may not fully understand why Jamil is putting his family's needs above his own, why he doesn't talk back to parents that actively keep him down, or why he doesn’t just… rebel on the spot.

Jamil would bring intense social shame upon his family if he chose to leave or got fired. His behavior would reflect poorly on his family, likely attracting criticism of his parents for how they raised such a rebellious child and perhaps even limit the opportunities they have in the future depending on how intense the shaming is. He would feel guilty about being the cause for their fall from grace. Jamil is immensely worried about what his parents, his dorm mates, and society at large will think of him breaking from tradition and betraying the family for what would be seen as selfish and self-serving reasons. (Ideas which are all reflected in Jamil’s JP dialogue, where he comments on his own selfishness and how it could impact his family.) These may not seem very serious to those from western countries, but social shame and intense filial piety has the capacity to put so much pressure on an individual and cause their mental state to deteriorate.

Remember, too, that Jamil is already facing social shame at school for what he did in book 4 and he specifically says he has chosen to stay with Kalim to regain the lost rep. This is why he cannot be freed from his shackles as easily as Aladdin made a wish to grant the Genie his freedom. Jamil constantly has to consider the consequences and social ramifications of his own actions on his family and their wellbeing. Isn't it plausible, then, that Kalim, who is now aware of Jamil's true feelings but is also aware of the long-standing circumstances between the Asims and the Vipers, to bite his tongue and wait for less precarious conditions before even pitching the idea? Additionally, he would also technically be supporting Jamil's current wishes by standing aside for now (Jamil is willingly staying to aid Kalim in an attempt to rebuild his reputation). Is that not in the spirit of mindfulness that Scarabia extols? Mindfulness is not just knowing when to act, but when to not act. I think Kalim’s just doing what he can within a preexisting system to support Jamil’s decisions and (limited) autonomy.

Something that I feel often isn’t brought up is the responsibility that Jamil’s parents play in all of this. A lot of the blame is put on the Asims for hiring the Vipers as servants, but the fact of the matter is that the Viper parents are the ones forcing Jamil to be subservient to Kalim. They are also guilty in perpetuating the problem by projecting onto their eldest child and urging him to follow in their footsteps. Jamil is their child, so there should be some responsibility on them for not giving him the freedom to choose his own career path and teaching Jamil that he should keep his head down and always be inferior to Kalim. The blame isn’t squarely on Papa Asim (who isn’t even guilty of starting this relationship, it has been happening for generations before him; he’s just perpetuating it), this is a shared issue.

Now, as to whether or not Kalim and Jamil could or should be friends despite the bad blood between them?? It’s really on Jamil if he will reciprocate or not since Kalim already offered the olive branch. As it’s currently going, I don’t think it will happen anytime soon. There’s no doubt that a relationship with Kalim would be a valuable asset (not just for negotiating Jamil leaving and doing his own thing, but in general for the future), but whether the benefits outweigh the mental anguish of associating Kalim with his generational trauma is worth it… well, there’s no doubt that Kalim wants to start over, make amends, and be equals with Jamil, but it’s not up to Kalim to decide to make friends or not. That’s Jamil’s choice, and ironically one of the few choices he does have 😔

I do think Jamil would be happier away from Kalim for some time, finally allowed to enjoy solitude and doing whatever he wants to. Kalim would be sad about this, but then again who wouldn’t be sad to lose someone you consider your friend since childhood? That ability to let go is also something he has to learn for himself, and I feel that’s going to be a component to Kalim’s future character development.

Kalim has been doing his part to keep a distance from Jamil and develop his own agency and sense of awareness (at least in the main story; the events and vignettes are kinda screwy timeline-wise). Jamil’s working on getting over his own ego and learning how to use his own traits as strengths rather than wallowing about what he doesn’t have or looking down on others. They’re trying to improve themselves independently of one another, and I think that’s beneficial for them both.

I would personally label the Scarabia duo’s dynamic as a toxic one, but it’s not “toxic” in the way we typically think of. Often when we see “toxic”, we think of someone who is malicious and intentionally so. In Kalim and Jamil’s case, Kalim isn’t purposefully mistreating Jamil, but their circumstances are such that Kalim existing hurts him and starves Jamil of freedom. This causes Jamil to lash out (which is more closely aligned with what most would perceive as “toxic”)—but, in a way, many can understand and sympathize with Jamil’s actions. It’s like a never-ending cycle of hate 😔

I do find their dynamic (Kalim being a big ol’ gullible ball of sunshine, Jamil hovering and nagging him for being silly) entertaining on a surface level. However, it’s really stressful for me to observe them for prolonged periods of time knowing the family history keeping them in these arbitrary roles 💦 It’s quite interesting to look at their conflict on a larger scale rather than an individual one; it’s a problem with society and systems they can’t necessarily fix on their own, but when the question arises as to whether they can work together to tear down those expectations, Jamil’s pride and negative feelings for Kalim pose a roadblock.

#Jamil Viper #Scarabia #Kalim Al-Asim #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #question #disney twst #twst en #twisted wonderland en #twst analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #twst character analysis #twisted wonderland character analysis

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