#I’ve missed the characters so much I don’t really care I have to follow the series for 10 whole weeks lmao

[ozwriterchick]

Back to Us - Chapter 4

Summary: Y/n wakes after an accident to her Avengers team-mates. But something isn't quite right and only Steve and Tony can see it.

Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader; Tony Stark; Natasha Romanoff; Other Avengers Characters

Content warnings: Mentions of an accident (no details yet); If I missed any, let me know

A/N: If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Not beta'd so any mistakes are my own. I don't write smut, but there are allusions to smut in my stories.

Back to Us Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 1347 (approx.)

Some time later, you are both laying there, a tangle of limbs, your head on his chest with his hand lightly stroking up and down your arm, totally satiated.

“Well, Cap, that was…” you began.

“Good? I hope..” he replied.

“It might take me some time to get my head around the fact I just slept with Captain America, but yeah, very good.  Now, I’m going to go take a shower and then get something to eat.  Care to join?” you smiled at him.

“Shower or eating?” he queried.

“Up to you Rogers.” You raise your eyebrows, shooting him a lascivious look as you move into the adjoining bathroom.

He follows you with his own smile on his face.  “Much as I’d love to join you in there Y/n, I think I’ll head to the kitchen and start getting some food ready for you.”

“Ok” you say “but you’re missing out.” You say as you walk away, swinging your hips and looking at him over your shoulder.

“Plenty of time Buttercup, plenty of time”

As you watch him leave the bathroom, you can’t quite work out what’s gotten into you, or him for that matter.  This isn’t something you would normally do, and it’s not really something you ever anticipated Steve doing either.

You and Cap had never even so much as had dinner together, without the others being there.  And that nickname, it’s the name of a character in your favourite movie, The Princess Bride.  Maybe it meant nothing but again, you weren’t sure. 

Half an hour later, you are showered, re-dressed and headed to the kitchen on your floor.  You don’t see Steve in the kitchen, and you can’t smell anything cooking.

“Rogers?  Are you there?” you enquired.  “Hello… Anyone.. Bueller.. Bueller??” you laugh at your own joke.

“Hey Y/n” Nat came into the kitchen.  “Steve had to go out, he said to apologise but something came up.  He asked me to make you something to eat, but there wasn’t much so I just made this PB&J sandwich, I hope that’s ok?  Tony has dinner being delivered later, so we’ll get to eat something good then.”

“Oh, hi Nat.  Steve went out?  I guess he had something better to do.” You weren’t sure why this hurt, except that you’d just had sex with him and before you’d even finished showering he was out of here.  He probably regretted it and didn’t know how to face you. 

Did you regret it, you pondered.  It was great sex, unarguably the best you’d ever experienced, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t regret it later.  You will have to think on it.

At that moment, Tony entered the room “Hey Y/n, I thought you were going to sleep the whole day away.” He gives you a wink and you’re not sure if that means he knows what you and Steve did.

“Just having something to eat Tony.  Nat made me this amazing PB&J and I don’t think I’ve ever had anything as good in my mouth.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, another wink.

“Well food-wise of course.  That hospital food can leave a lot to be desired.  I reckon they make it bad so you don’t stay too long.” You laughed hesitantly.

Tony & Nat laugh with you and you all go your separate ways.

Later that evening you get dressed to go down for dinner.  You still haven’t seen Steve since the events of earlier in the day and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.  Sure he had to go out because ‘something came up’ but you’d hoped he’d be back before now and you thought he’d want to come and at least say hi and apologise in person for ditching you earlier.

When you arrived in the dining room, you noted that everyone else was already there, seated around the table.  The only spare seat was next to Steve so you took a deep breath and sat down.

“Hey everyone, I’m so glad to be home and I want to thank you all for being so amazing while I was in hospital and so far since I’ve been back.  I know I’ve got some gaps here and there, I’m still not sure how much time I’m missing” you notice that they all glance at each other when you said that “but I’m sure you all will continue to be amazing and I’m keen to get back to training and missions with all of you.”

Everyone settles into comfortable conversations around the table, enjoying the lavish dinner Tony has provided as a celebration of you coming home.

You had lively conversations with Tony on one side of you, Bruce opposite and Nat who was sitting next to him.  Tony winked at you a couple more times, which had you double take.

You can’t help feeling a nervous vibe coming from Steve, maybe he also feels like Tony knows what happened.

Under your breath you say to Steve “I think Tony’s onto us.  He made a few remarks earlier about me sleeping all day and he winked at me.  Twice!”

“He knows,” Steve said almost nonchalantly.  “I told him.”

“You told him” you whisper yelled at him.  “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed that he knows.  Does everyone know?”

“Well, I only told Tony, I can’t say if he told anyone else.” He says.

You surreptitiously survey the table before realising that nobody seems to be concerned over you whispered conversation with Steve, or making any indications that they know about your little tryst, so you relax a little.

After dinner you make your excuses and head back to your room, tired from more activity than you’ve done in many days.

After you brushed your teeth and changed into your pyjamas, you get the feeling you’re not alone and you hope it’s Steve.  Looking up you see Tony in the doorway.

“Hey kid, how are you feeling, for real?” he asks.

“I’m so tired.  I still feel like I’ve been run over by a truck, but things are not as sore as they were, so that’s good.  To be honest though, I get the feeling there’s something I’m not being told and it’s scaring me Tony.”

“I’m not sure what you mean Y/n – there’s a bit of a gap in your memory, the doctor told you that.  So you know everything we know.  He also said we shouldn’t force the memories, they have to come back naturally.  Just make sure you don’t let anyone force memories on you.”

You think about what he said, thinking that it’s a code for something and you wonder if he’s referring to you and Steve.

“Listen Tony, Steve told me he told you what happened between us, is that one of the memories I’m missing?”

“Why do you ask that?” Tony asked.

“Well, without getting into the down & dirty” you start. “When he held me and kissed me, there was something almost primally familiar about it.  But I’ve never even so much as had dinner alone with him so I don’t get it.”

“Me either Y/n” Tony hoped he sounded sincere enough that you’d buy it.  “I came up to let you know that Brue has a flashback program he’s been developing.  I know the Doc said we shouldn’t force it but, think about it.  Maybe it will start things coming back to you.”

“Thanks Tony, I’ll think about it.  I might even chat to Bruce to see what it’s all about before I make a decision.”

“Good idea Y/n, sweet dreams.  Tomorrow is a new day.”

“You too Tony.  Oh, Tony..?”

“Yeah kid?” Tony replied.

“How big is the gap in my memory?  Nobody’s told me exactly and I don’t know if I should be searching for days or weeks.  Or longer?”

“Oh kid,” Tony began “I don’t know if it will help knowing that”. He kisses you on the top of your head and leaves the room before you can question him any further.

You sink into a restless sleep with dreams of you and Cap.

Tag List: @wolfbeanpotion @vioplay19 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @crazyunsexycool @zaraomarrogers @bitchy-bi-trash

[prisonpodcast]

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[caramello-styles]

Hiii 👋 I finished obx now I'm contemplating whether I should wait all episodes of carnival row or watch it now ? It's 4 episode rn and it will be 10 in total soo? I know I cannot wait over a month 🫣. I want to watch !! But I have ZERO RECALLING of what happened in first season because it's been literal 4 years 💀!!!!!! Did you watch full first season ? Are you watching now ? Help please

Hiii!! for me personally I love following ongoing show so yes I’m watching s2 rn! they left us hanging for four years ofc I cannot wait I dove into the second season right away 😂 and don’t worry they put a recap of s1 on the first episode of s2!! and they’re completely helpful even if you forgot the previous season 🫡 it’s your choice really! choose whichever you’re comfortable with

[nomazee]

enough to make me cry

blade is your only roommate, your only friend, and your only way home from this terrible party you found yourself in.

blade x gn reader — 3.3k — college & roommates au!, very americanized college experiences, frat parties, mentions of drinking & vomiting, could be read as platonic but there are definitely romantic undertones, feelings of inadequacy/being out of place, hurt/comfort, social anxiety, blade is probably ooc i'm gonna be so honest, mild kafka & reader friendship, erggg im probably missing something

notes: no i have to be so honest blade is probably completely out of character i have not played a single side quest with him in it but i just think he has reluctant roommate-to-best friend potential and i wanted to pour that into a fic,,, this is mostly unintelligible but i did proofread! love you all

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A warm hand rests on your shoulder, and the first thing that you think is Blade’s hands are supposed to be cold.

It’s really pathetic. You’re somewhere in a stupid frat house, the thrumming of music around you. There’s the flashing colors and sounds of Mario Kart on the TV, the smell of puke (probably yours) and corona lite, and a hand on your shoulders that you’ve discerned is not your roommate, Blade’s. 

Looking to the side, you follow the hand (painted, manicured nails, definitely still not Blade’s), and it leads up to an arm up to a shoulder up to a face, and—oh. 

“You’re—” you pause, getting your words in order before you puke them up, “you’re Blade’s pretty lady friend?” It’s supposed to come out as a statement, but leans more to a question. She looks down, a bit of a teasing grin on her face, but her eyes are a little soft so you trust her. 

“Is that what he calls me?” she jokes.

“No, I’m— I came up with that.” If you had any dignity left in you, you’d be embarrassed to admit that to her. Unfortunately, you’re pretty sure that Kafka (the pretty lady friend in question) just held your hair back and wiped your face as you puked into a frat-house toilet, flushing your dignity away with your dinner. Your eyes burn with tears and mortification, and you pray that only Kafka saw your embarrassing mishaps.

“I called him to pick you up,” she tells you, already looking away from you and scanning the room as if looking for something, or someone. “I would take you home myself, but I’ve got some things to take care of. And I’m assuming you didn't bring your keys with you?” 

A quick pat-down of your pockets confirms that, yes, you somehow managed to leave your keys at home, the one personal necessity that you were supposed to bring besides your phone. Which, thankfully, you do at least have.

“Umm, the…” you mutter, tongue tangling uselessly as you try to find a way out of here without facing the impending doom of Blade’s aggravated scolding and his I told you so’s. 

A week ago, you went to him with an invite to this frat party and begged him to come with you, saying something like You don’t go out much, this is your chance! He’d adamantly refused, calling it a bad idea and rolling his eyes whenever you brought it up. But you were stubborn, and you wanted to have a fun college experience, so you forced him to drive you to the party with the promise of paying for his next gas payment and getting your own ride back home at the end of the night. 

“I can go,” you finally tell Kafka, mind stringing along memories and thoughts and alarm bells of get your ass home before you have to sit in an awful car ride with Blade, “It’s, like, a fifteen minute walk, don’t call him.” 

“It’s a little too late for that, kid,” Kafka drawls, amusement in her words. She’s smiling down at you, and you’re reminded of how small you feel. “He’s already on the way.” 

“No!” you protest, a little too loudly, but not loud enough to be heard over the thumping of music and bodies and voices. “It’s— Kafka, please, just tell him to turn around, I really don’t want him to deal with me today.” 

If you knew her even less, you’d misinterpret the twitch in her expression as concern—but you’re not too dumb, so you read it as amusement. “Trust me, he’s not going to have a problem with that. You’ll be fine.” 

Whatever that means. Kafka’s too cryptic for your liking, but you won’t complain. She wiped up your vomit from the dirty bathroom tiles and stayed with you to make sure you didn't get trampled, and she didn't complain about any of that. In a week, when you have enough strength to face her again, you’ll treat her to a good, expensive, flaky pastry. She seems like the kind of person who would love those. 

Her phone buzzes with a text notification, and she clicks her tongue, standing up and pulling you with her. Her hand is still warm, seeping through the sleeve of your shirt as she takes you by the forearm, gentle but guiding. Your stomach churns at the thought of seeing Blade, the thought of him seeing you like this. Freshly-puked-out with a nasty stomachache all because of a party that he told you not to go to. 

You hold back your protests as Kafka leads you through the still-crowded frat house. What time is it? Has nobody gotten bored yet, seriously? At least you didn't kill the mood by running to the bathroom and weeping into the toilet. It seems like nobody noticed, except for Kafka, and you don’t know if that should make you feel comforted or just more upset. 

The cool air of the night hits you as you step through the front door, eyes tracking your feet as you walk down the concrete steps. You see the silhouette of Blade’s ugly blue car in your peripheral vision, but you don’t want to look up in fear of seeing the disappointment on his face so soon. He’s going to rip you a new one, and then call you a slob and kick you out of the apartment and say I can’t have a party fiend living with me even though this was your first party ever, honest. 

You barely register that you’ve reached the passenger side of Blade’s car, only coming back to awareness when Kafka opens the door for you and starts nudging you into the seat. A really pathetic part of you wants to grab onto her arm and cry hard enough that she just relents and lets you walk home, but you’re already half into the passenger seat, looking everywhere but Blade. 

“Take care of them, won’t you, Bladie?” Kafka commands lightly, her hand leaving your arm as you get situated and buckled up in the car. Blade lets out a little huff in response and your stomach sinks. He’s already annoyed. 

The car ride to your apartment is only five minutes at this time of night. You just have to survive five minutes in silence and pray that he doesn’t tear into you and scold you like a disappointed parent. A glance at the clock on the car’s console confirms that it’s half past midnight. What the fuck. What were you even doing at the party for that long, besides vomiting and crying? 

The car rumbles, exhaust sputtering a little bit as Blade pulls out from the side of the street and drives slowly, carefully, as if not to rattle you, and you really just want him to speed up and throttle the car around so you feel more guilty about waking him up in the middle of the night to come pick you up. Blade goes to bed at eleven, the latest. You can’t imagine why Kafka thought it would be a good idea to call him, of all people, but then you remember that you kind of don’t have any other friends on campus. Your chest tightens at the thought. 

Blade makes some kind of sniffling noise, his way of trying to initiate some kind of conversation. There’s not even any music playing, because he always drives in dead silence because he’s abnormal, and on any other day you’d tease him about it like you always do. You see him turn his head to you in the corner of your eye, but you refuse to acknowledge him. You wish he’d just start scolding you, yelling at you or something. 

Tears prickle behind your eyes, painfully so, but your hands tighten around each other in your lap as you will yourself to not cry like a baby in front of your roommate. He lets out another sigh, but it doesn’t sound angry, just tired, and somehow that makes you feel worse. 

“What were you guys even drinking?” is his question of voice, and it’s the one question you didn't want him to ask, and you can’t help it when the tears spill over and you bring your hand up to wipe them away frantically, hiccuping a little bit as your gut churns. 

“What—” Blade stutters, and he never stutters, and you see him whip his head around to look at you, crying into your hands over a simple question, and you just want to leave the car and walk home like you told Kafka you would do. He pulls over to the side of some residential street. There’s a dog barking in a yard and wind chimes clinking together, and you think of your handmade bottle cap wind chime hung in the balcony of yours and Blade’s apartment, and it just makes you cry more. 

The car comes to a full stop. Blade puts it in park and turns completely to you. You spare a quick glance at him through the gaps between your fingers, and there’s something like worry on his face, which you’ve never seen before. His face is pinched, lips parted as if wanting to say something, but he can’t. He’s waiting for you. 

“I didn't drink anything, Blade,” you sob, feeling miserable at the state of yourself, at how you went to a frat party with nobody you knew and just walked around like a lost child, too scared to drink or talk to anyone, too anxious to say a word. “Not even a shot, or a sip, nothing from the fridge. It was so stupid, you were right, okay? It was a stupid idea, and I shouldn’t have gone.” Your breath catches in your throat, and the car is dead quiet as Blade lets your words sink in. 

You try not to make so much noise when you cry, but you’re sniveling and wiping your face and wishing that he would just stop looking at you like that. You can still see the ruby-red of his eyes even when you can’t bear to look up at him, and it makes you so viscerally upset. 

Blade is beautiful, really, and it makes you so upset that he looks better than you right now despite him being dragged right out of bed by Kafka’s phone call with a request to pick you up just minutes ago. You, who spent hours selecting an outfit, just to feel inadequate and wholly ugly the minute you walked through the door. It felt like you were back in middle school, spending hours with your parents picking out an outfit to a school dance, looking through ties and pants and shoes, just to show up and feel both overdressed and underdressed, feel like a fool, feel like you just can’t look the way everyone else does. Like something is always a little wrong. 

“Kafka said that you got sick. You didn't drink anything? You’re sure?” 

“No,”  you confirm pitifully, wanting him to just drop the topic and drive the rest of the way home and never talk about this again. “I was just anxious, and I puked like an idiot. Kafka helped me, she was the only one that I knew at the party. I don’t know. I don’t remember anymore. I was just anxious.” 

He says your name, not unkindly, but with a prying tone that just makes a fresh wave of tears stream down your face in rivulets. “Why would you go if you didn't know anyone?” 

“I don't know!” you shout, heated with embarrassment. You’re acting like a child, throwing a tantrum and crying and shouting in Blade’s car. The seatbelt is too tight on you. You fiddle with it, pulling it from the juncture of your neck and shoulder and loosening it, scratching your bitten nails against the scratchy cloth and looking out of the car window so that you can avoid Blade’s awful, terrible, intrusive gaze. 

“I just wanted to be normal, or something. I don’t know anybody from any of my classes. I don’t talk to anyone from my major. And then I got the invite for the party somehow and I just thought it would be fun. I don’t know, Blade, I know I should’ve listened to you, I’m sorry.” 

“Stop,” he says firmly, fully turned to you now, as if he wants you to look back at him, to listen to whatever he’s going to say, and that’s the one thing you don’t want to do. You hate that he’s being kind. You wish he’d be sarcastic and mean and cruel, bite into you and feed off your self-pity. But he’s being nice, nice in the same way that he’s nice when he buys the right brand of milk for you (because the others make you sick, and the taste is different), or when he drives you places in his car when it’s raining so that you don’t have to take the buses everywhere, or when he comes home with your ridiculous coffee order that costs a hellacious amount of money with all of your substitutions and additions and flavorings. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he says resolutely, leaving no room for argument, “Just— I didn't know you were feeling like that. I would’ve gone with you if you told me you needed someone. I assumed you were going with a friend.” 

You don’t respond with I don’t have any friends, because you’re pretty sure that’s clear enough by now, and you don’t want to confirm what’s already been confirmed a million times over just from the way you act. The way you cling to yours and Blade’s apartment, the way you never spend a second longer than you need to in any of your classes, the way that sometimes, when Blade goes out for class or work, you sit on the couch in silence with your laptop out, doing your work for the week and checking the clock and taking naps so that you don’t have to feel so alone for so long. 

“You didn't want to go,” you say instead, “I wasn’t going to make you just because I’m— I don’t know.” 

“I would’ve gone for you,” he tells you, really tells you, with a force in his words, like he wants to drive the point into you with a stake, driven right through your heart. “I would do a lot of things if you asked. You just need to ask.” 

You don’t— you really don’t want to think about what that means. What he means. You rip your eyes away from the car window and turn to face him. He’s not too close. You almost wish he could be closer, but you would suffocate under the pressure in your stomach and behind your eyes. 

He shouldn’t say things like that, things like You just need to ask, because you’d ask for a lot if given the chance. You’d ask for him to come to parties with you, stay by your side, let you put a hand on his shoulder and guide him around another disgusting frat house as if you know what you’re doing. You’d ask him to sleep in the same bed as you some nights, just a foot away from each other, backs turned to each other but still close enough that you can feel the unnatural coldness that radiates off of Blade. 

You’d ask him to introduce you to Kafka and that other girl they hang out with, to say something stupid and funny like This is my abhorrent roommate, be nice to them, and that way you’d have more contacts in your phone that aren't just Blade and your parents and two old high school friends who you haven’t spoken to in a year. You’d ask him to be a lot more than just a plus-one to a party full of people you’ve never met. 

“I just want to go home,” you breathe out, a guilty confession burning your gums and leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “I’m sorry.” 

“Stop saying sorry,” he asserts for the second time tonight, making your lungs squeeze as you puff out a tired exhale. Blade turns back in his seat, taking the car out of park and heading back onto the road—driving slowly, yet again, avoiding cracks and potholes in the road. “You need to eat something. You’ll wake up with a hellish headache if you go to bed dehydrated.” 

“I don’t think that’s true.” 

“I said it, so it’s true,” he says petulantly, turning the car down into a road that’s definitely not in the direction of your apartment building. To your hidden delight, the glowing sign of a twenty-four-seven ice cream store comes into view, and you sit up just a little bit. Blade slows the car as he turns into the drive-thru, glancing at you with an eyebrow half-raised. 

“What do you want? I’ll order for you.” 

“I don’t have my wallet,” you admit, just a little bit embarrassed. “I didn't even bring my keys with me. Do you think they take Apple Pay?” 

A breathy laugh escapes him, and you catch sight of a dimple pressed into his cheek, and you want to press your thumb into it and look at his smile, just for a little longer. “Don’t be dumb. I’m paying,” he tells you, the same way he has every time he pays for your cafe drink, or when he comes home from work with your favorite, and says You’re broke enough without having to pay for these drinks, don’t pay me back in that snippy way he shows his care. 

You ask for a medium vanilla milkshake, with sprinkles, and he gets you a large instead, which you’re more than grateful for. He refuses to let you look at the receipt for the total cost, and hands you the milkshake with a comical severity that you often see in him. The sweet drink washes away any bitter taste left in your mouth, and you feel a little better, a little nicer in your haphazard party outfit and under Blade’s fleeting gaze. 

A deep sigh escapes you, one of relief, when the car finally parks at your apartment building. Blade puts a cold hand between your shoulder blades, unobtrusive and leading, and it’s a comforting contrast from the heat lingering on your skin from the party and the closed car. It feels right, more in-place than Kafka’s warm hands were when she wiped your face and kept you steady, though she was just as gentle. 

Blade all but tosses you onto the couch, claiming that it’s much too late for a shower and he’d rather not deal with you collapsing from exhaustion in the tub. You relent easily, the exhaustion of the night hitting you and soaking into your limbs. 

“I’ll let you sleep on the couch,” he says, and it’s a good and kind thing, because he knows that sometimes you hate your bedroom because it’s just too empty, and the constant sound filtering into the living room puts you at ease. He never lets you sleep on the couch, because it’s bad for your back, and he jokes about you developing adult onset scoliosis with the awful way you sleep. Letting you do it, just this once, is another one of his small mercies. 

The TV is on, humming at a low volume, and your legs are thrown across Blade’s lap. You’re shocked that he’s willing to fall asleep with you like this, but he’s kind, sarcastic and biting but kind all the same, as much as he loathes to admit it. It’s not too lonely, you decide, hearing the bottle cap wind chimes on your balcony clink together in dissonant harmonies. 

(There’s a missing text from a new contact on your phone when you wake up, coming from pretty lady friend, extending an invite to brunch in two days, and you kick your legs on the couch in giddy excitement, thinking about how you’ll rope Blade into coming with you, too.)

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taglist: @tragedy-of-commons

(pssst!!! send me a msg or fill out the form in my navi to be added to the taglist!!!)

[darylscigarettesmoke]

Daryl is weak.

Okay, bold headline. I’m a journalist I know how clickbait works. Jokes aside, hear me out.

A lot of fans say that Daryl acts totally out of character in the second season of his spin-off. Getting close to a woman that quickly. Kissing her. Not thinking about going home anymore or not fighting tooth and nail to get there anymore.

And while I very much agree and the Daryl from the Spin-Off doesn’t feel like the Daryl from the flagship show anymore, there’s a pattern I’ve noticed throughout the series.

The word Daryl gets described the most is probably “loyal”. But what if he’s not that “loyal” man, everyone makes him out to be?

Daryl’s not good alone. He needs people. He latches on to them. First it was Merle, his bad influence of a brother. Then it was Rick and the group. He needs a role model. Someone to follow.

what happens though if you take away his role model, is always the same thing. He falls into despair, latches onto someone else and forgets where he came from.

Remember the arc after the prison fell? He was stuck with Beth, thought the group is dead. But instead of making use of his tracking abilities, determination, pure willpower to prove himself wrong and see that most folks are still alive or just whatever to find out if the other’s are really dead, he succumbs to pessimism and suggests to Beth to just stay at the funeral home, doing nothing but playing house. He would’ve stayed there for much longer if Beth hadn’t gone kidnapped. Once Beth was gone, he stucked to the Claimers until Rick came along again…

Same thing with Leah. He believed his leader (Rick) to be dead, his guilt made him shy away from his family, he lived in the woods until Leah came along. It took him longer than with Beth to finally give in and decide to stay with Leah, but still - he isolated himself from the thoughts of his family and stayed with a woman - and yet again, he would have stayed there, away from his family, if Leah hadn’t left herself. He didn’t have a clue about what’s happening in Alexandria, with the Whisperers, with Rick’s kids and probably didn’t wanna know either.

Rinse and repeat we got Isabelle. In this case, it’s even worse because Daryl’s stuck in another country. But again he’s far away from his family, again there is a woman, again he’s latching onto her and yet again he is forgetting about his people back home to the point where he’s almost not considering to go back anymore at all.

Daryl always needs a circumstance, a death, a kidnapping, or a person (Carol?) to pull him back to reality and to remind him who he is and what he might’ve left behind.

It’s also highly ironic to me that the Villain of the season, that cult leader, describes what’s going on with Daryl in Episode 2x03 perfectly:

“Must be hard living without a semblance of faith. No organizing principle, nothing to cling to [….] a man alone it’s a sad state.”

Daryl always believes he is alone, that his group has given up on him. His low self-esteem and the thing’s he had to endure prevent him from seeing how loved he is. But he’s never been truly alone, after he found Rick’s group.

Having to fend for himself as a kid has left his mark on him, so he’s clinging onto people, desperate of not wanting to be alone.

Now that doesn’t go without saying that I don’t believe Daryl didn’t find something in France. He found what he wishes for - a family of his own and to not be the “lonely man” anymore. But it’s time to come back from Neverland, to achieve that dream.

With all of these things considered I start to believe the Daryl we all know and love is still there - he just needs to be reminded that he is loved, cared for and so, so missed.

Edit: Some more notes. That is just a poor explanation/interpretation of bad writing in the Spin-Off. When Daryl said he wasn’t sure of what he was looking for when he left the Commonwealth, that made it clear as day the writers absolutely intend to retcon this beloved character and all of his core characteristics to pretend Daryl’s this blank page, a character without history. But this doesn’t work and I hope they’ll notice it soon enough.

[curtsycream]

I read ur cg kiribakudeku x little reader and I LOVEEEEE IT IT'S SO CUTE

So maybe Ch kiribakudeku where the reader loves to nap BUTTTTTT only really with bakugou so everytime she's sleepy she crawl to bakugou (she's like 1 and cant really walk so she crawls everywhere) and climbs on his lap and start to fell asleep and when she cant sleep with bakugou she cries just wanting her daddy and her other cg tries to comfort her 🌺

Missing You

KiriBakuDeku x Little Reader

I felt bad halfway and decided that hey why not have her realize that she was neglecting Kiri and Deku by only wanting Baku. Thanks for the request though, halfway through all of them atp

Midoriya and Kirishima noticed a shift in their dynamic it started the week Bakugou was away for hero work. She acted normally the first few days he was away but the last few she wouldn’t stop crying. Out of headspace she understood that he was working but in her headspace she felt alone.

While she had two of her caregivers it still felt weird for Bakugou to not be there. He was the one that would read her bedtime stories and make sure she ate her vegetables. Yet without him there she felt as if she couldn’t do those things.

It took everything in Midoriya and Kirishima to try and calm her down at nights. They tried their luck at reading her bedtime stories but it wasn’t the same. The way he used silly voices for characters or would cut her carrots up into little stars. She missed it.

“How about Llama Llama?”

“No…”

“What about-”

“No, wan daddy.”

“I don’t think this is working, Eijirou.”

So the day that Bakugou returned Midoriya and Kirishima were relieved. Bakugou knew the second he got home that she was less than corporative with her other caregivers. It was evident in the dark circles under their eyes and the concern they held when she finally saw Bakugou.

Y/N on the other hand was happy as she no longer had a reason to cry at night. The second dinner was over and she had her bath she crawled her way into Bakugou’s lap. Her head was against his chest as she listened to his heart beat. He didn’t waste time as he rubbed her back in a soothing manner.

“I’ve heard you’ve been crying all week, what’s that about?”

She let out a small noise of surprise at his words her pacifier discarded as she looked up at him.

“I know it sometimes seems scary when one of us is away from you. But no matter what we will always come back, understand?”

She nodded her head listening to him speak as she did her best to process his words.

“Good, but also remember that when one of us is away the other two still love you just as much. We all hate to see you cry and it hurts when you only want one of us.”

Thinking back on the week she remembered how distant she was with Midoriya and Kirishima. How she would cry even when they did their best to cheer her up and make her smile. She knew they were trying their hardest to make her happy but she didn’t care much at the time.

Bakugou’s eyebrows furrow at her warbling bottom lip, “no need to cry muffin, they still love you. It’s okay..”

The sound of her crying alerted Midoriya and Kirishima who made their way into the bedroom. “Is she okay?” “Are you alright, baby?”

The concern in their voices made her sniffle was she reached out for them. Her arms didn’t stay empty for long as Kirishima followed by Midoriya wrapped her up in a hug.

“Sowwy.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby.”

“Yeah we understand, Izuku cries a lot when Katsuki leaves too.”

“Eijirou! I don’t cry!”

“Sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“It means sure.”

Y/N didn’t care much for their argument as she snores lightly with her head on Bakugou’s chest. A smile on her face as she snuggled against the rather explosive man, happy.

[takamimami]

takamimami Celebrates 100 Followers!!

EVENT CLOSED: RULES AND PROMPTS UNDER CUT (event end Oct 11th)

What better way to celebrate a milestone than with these three goofballs?!

Seriously though, I want to thank everyone who has liked, followed, reblogged, and interacted with any of my works I've posted on this blog. Let me start off by actually introducing myself:

Hi! My name is Tia/Angel/Princess/any pet name you want to call me :3 - I am a 27-year-old loser who shamelessly obsesses over people I will never meet. I pride myself in trying to be an open book, so I am always open to chatting about anything from anime, video games, music, books - but I need to come with my own CW because I am unhinged 87% of the time (srynotsry). I once saw this post that said something like 'Create pieces that you are the target audience for' and that is 100% my motto when it comes to writing, so the fact that anyone enjoys what I create is amazing bc it means I'm not as crazy or alone as I once thought I was <3 (ew that was oddly sappy). This blog is technically a side blog where I post my writings, so if you really wanna be friends, consider following/interacting with me on my main page @limitlesstildil

EVENT RULES UNDER THE CUT - PLEASE CONSIDER LIKING/REBLOGGING THIS POST TO SPREAD THE LOVE :3

Supernova Captains 100 Follower Event:

RULES:

The rules are pretty easy: submit an ask here and choose a prompt from the lists below, and then let me know which of our lovely captains you want me to write about for you!! ALL WILL BE WRITTEN AS X READER FICS - SO PLEASE SPECIFY IF YOU PREFER F!READER, M!READER, OR G/N!READER!!

Be mindful of what prompt you are choosing - Smut prompts will be NSFW - Fluff Prompts will be SFW - and Angst will be SFW unless you request otherwise :3 NOTE: you can select choose for me to write a prompt for all three captains, but the blurbs will be smaller (5-600 words each) than if you just choose one of them. Single character pieces will be roughly 1.5k words - give or take (and also depending on my self control :3) ALSO: please feel free to include any ideas/pet names/headcanons you would like me to include/lean into - I want to personalize them for whoever is asking as much as possible so do not hold back when it comes to letting me know what you're in the mood for :3 HAPPY REQUESTING <3

PROMPT LIST:

SMUT 🔞

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“We should probably leave, before we start a scandal.”

“My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

“I could make you feel better.”

“I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment.”

“Your hand feels so much better than mine.”

“Your moans will wake everyone up and I’m oddly fine with that.”

“Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”

“How about we get really dirty before we shower, so that it’s actually worth the effort?”

“Oh, you’re such a tease!”

“Hmm, is that a threat or a promise?”

“I want to ruin you.”

Our bodies fit so well together.”

“Make me shut up then.”

FLUFF🍬

“How come you always end up under my blanket?”

“Have I told you I love you today?”

“I would like my good morning kiss now.”

“You getting so flustered is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

“I think I know what that smile means.”

“You give the best hugs.”

“You’re enough for me.”

“Wait, we have a few more minutes.”

“You’re just the cutest.” “You’re the only one who is allowed to say that.”

“Do you think they will like it?”

“Sweet of you to think of me.” “I always think of you.”

“You make me a better person.”

“Everything alright?” “I just missed you.”

“I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

ANGST🥀

“I shouldn’t have left.”

"Please don't talk about yourself like that."

“No, this can’t be real!”

“We tried our best.”

“Please, let me in.”

“Can’t you understand why that hurts me?”

“I asked you not do this, but you did it anyway.”

“Don’t touch me!”

“I’ve always been alone.”

“It hurts, but I’ll live.”

“Please, tell me you're ok.”

“Sleep doesn’t come that easy without you.”

“I don’t really care anymore.”

“No, I’m actually not ok.”

“You just can’t help it, can you?”

[chronicsyd]

Opinions I have that might upset Arcane fans (well, mainly Jinx fans but oh well 🤷‍♀️)

1) I’m not sexually/romantically attracted to Jinx (I’ve said before that I’m 23 years old and thinking about Jinx in that way is weird to me, mostly cuz her age is very ambiguous and even the oldest she Could be (maybe 19) is still too young to me) (harassing people that don’t think she’s attractive makes you an asshole)

2) Jinx is not an “uwu pooki innocent bean 🥺” she’s still responsible for the decisions that she makes

3) Jinx d riders are probably some of the most annoying people in the fandom (vilifying other characters because Jinx is your fav makes you an asshole)

4) If it weren’t for Caitlyn, Vi would have never gotten out of Stillwater and reunited with Jinx

5) People claiming Vi to be “bland” truly missed what her character represents (on that note, there’s more to her character than just being hot)

6) Caitlyn did not maliciously interrupt Vi and Jinx’s reunion in episode 6, she was merely following Vi (what she’s been doing the entire time) and Vi withheld the info that Jinx was her sister

7) Silco was not a good father figure or person

8) Vi was wrong for hitting Powder yes, but she was overwhelmed watching basically her entire family die right in front of her eyes and Powder practically told her she was responsible. Vi’s only like 15 in act 1, she’s still Very much a child so saying shit like “she should have acted more mature” is stupid

9) Vi, Silco and Piltover had their part to play in the creation of Jinx. Jinx couldn’t move on from Vi hitting her and “abandoning” her (it was out of Vi’s control but that’s how it was to Jinx), Silco manipulated Jinx into thinking Vi never cared for her, and Piltover running a corrupt government didn’t help

10) calling Vi “selfish” for not shooting Caitlyn is stupid and idiotic. No, she wasn’t going to “get Powder back” if she did so, if you paid attention the show makes that pretty clear. It wouldn’t accomplish anything other than hurting Vi further (because despite the terms the two left each other on Vi still Cares about Caitlyn)

11) I find Jayce to be a rather boring protagonist

12) Silco groomed Jinx. People think grooming is Only sexual when in fact it goes a hell of a lot deeper than that.

13) you need better media literacy if you don’t understand Vi’s trauma or why she and Caitlyn fit so well together

14) it’s dumb to be mad at Vi that she doesn’t want to call Powder Jinx (the last thing she called her, feeding into Powder’s insecurities) and not wanting to accept Jinx being a mass murderer who clearly enjoys doing it (watch Vi and Jinx vs the Firelights fight again if you must)

15) Vander isn’t a superstar of a father either. He put way too much responsibility in the hands of a 15 year old girl and makes her think that every bad outcome is her fault

16) Vi didn’t replace Jinx with Caitlyn. Hell, the first chance she gets she ditches her and tries to find Jinx solo, and still wants to go back to her in episode 7. Also acting like Vi isn’t allowed to have anyone Other than Powder is stupid and selfish.

17) Vi has a habit of making really poor impulse decisions and it’s going to get her into trouble if she doesn’t get a rain check on them

I might make some points later, and you can agree or disagree these are just my opinions after all… alright bu-bye!

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter One

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (In future chapters)

WC: 4070

Summary: A washed up movie star with a failing career, fresh out of rehab and looking to turn his life around. He moves back to his small hometown to take a break from stardom and help his sister out with his niece— He’s traded the high-life for school runs and crafting. What he doesn’t except is to meet you, his niece’s school teacher who couldn’t care less about his extensive filmography or his dwindling fame.

Warning: 18+ Blog; brief description of drug use, rehabilitation/mentions of rehab stay, getting treatment for drug addiction, absent parents, anxiety, sister giving ultimatum, apologetic Dieter, determined to turn life around, cursing, if I’ve missed anything feel free to let me know.

A/N: Firstly, big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for listening to me drone on about this! And for also being a champ and beta’ing for me too!!

This chapter has some heavy elements to it, and I hope it comes across as a serious tone considering the topic of drug usage. I wanted Dieter to be deliberate in his attempt to better himself. There might be some reference to this characters contents in the future, but this will be the only one containing any actual drugs. There’s a lot of information packed into this chapter to help get the story going. I’ve been so blown away by the responses to this series and I really hope I do it justice! Any questions/comments/or you just want to chat more about this chapter, my ask box is always open!! xx

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Next

A few sharp knocks on the bathroom door. 

“Hello?? Is someone in there?”

No response. 

The slightest twist of the knob. Unlocked. Unoccupied. 

Only the opening of the door reveals quite the opposite. Occupied. 

“Oh! I’m so so sor— Oh my god! Are you fucking serious right now?! You’re getting high at a 6 year old’s birthday party!” 

No response. Just a deadpan look of nothingness from the body propped up next to the toilet. 

“I fucking knew it. I knew you would fucking let her down!! God!!! You’re such a fucking deadbeat, washed up douchebag— so fucking ridiculous.”

“W-whyy a-rrre y-youuu yellllling? Shhhhh!” His speech laden with a hint of sarcasm. 

“You’re a fucking joke! I can’t believe you would do this to your sister!”

“What are you yelling about in here?? Wren is getting ready to open her presents and wants everyone to watch her. Dieter why are you on the flo— are you fucking high?” 

“Ag-ainnn shhhhhhh!” His pointer finger emphatically raised to his lips, the noise too much for his dazed mind. 

“You promised me Dieter! You fucking promised me no drugs! I should have known better, I should have fucking known you’d do this— you don’t care about how much this hurts me to see you like this, constantly letting me down. I’m done Dieter, I’m so fucking done trying to help you if you’re not going to help yourself. Fuck! Get the fuck out! Go! Now!! I don’t want you near us, I won’t put Wren through this. Get help or stay away!”

The door slams, Dieter left alone to ruminate  over what was said in the small tiled space. 

Even in his stupefied state, the words thrown at him were enough to make an immediate impact. The cognitive part of his brain working over time to push through and make a levelheaded thought. 

“Deadbeat”

“Washed up”

“Get help or Stay away”

Reaching for his phone, he dials his lifeline who drops everything for him, probably due to her reoccurring paycheck, his assistant whom he’s thankful doesn’t hate him enough to ignore his call out of the blue. 

“Heeeey! I n-neeeed y-you to c-ommme g-get meee…”

He knew this was it, he had to get his shit together or suffer the consequences. 

*

He feels different if he’s being honest with himself. 

Lighter. 

Healthier. 

Alive. 

365 days clean. He made a commitment to a year long stay at a drug rehabilitation center, followed by a 3 month residency in a sober living facility conveniently tucked away in the Hollywood hills. 

Yet, he feels more lost than he was before he started treatment. 

He can’t remember what living a normal, healthy life is like— a life not high out of his mind 24/7.

This wasn’t his first time trying to get clean, he’d become a regular of sorts at a few different rehab centers scattered through out the greater Los Angeles area. 

Each stay with the same goal and each one a failed attempt at getting control over his life without the drugs. 

It was never “hope this is the time it really clicks for him”, it was always a question of “how long will he go this time before he’s kicked out and checking into the next one”— might have even been a headline a time or two. 

Many centers refusing to even consider treating him based on his past reputation alone. 

His agent’s patience was wearing thin trying to book roles for Dieter, doing his best to convince directors he wasn’t a liability and he could get the job done with zero risk in hiring him— it was far from the truth. 

Each day on set became a game of Russian Roulette, no one really knowing which side of Dieter they would be dealing with while shooting. That in itself was a metaphorical high he chased with each role he booked, seeing how long before some one caught on to his slurred words, blood shot eyes and sluggish demeanor. 

On numerous occasions Dieter thought he was skillful in his ability to mask his inebriated ego. He was combative with the crew and fellow actors— his temperament calm and mellow one moment, then seething and dripping with rage the next. 

He was getting sloppy. The teetering domino of his life had slowly began to tip and once it did finally fall, his entire life crumbling around him. 

*

The traffic is heavier than expected. Dieter wonders if it’s due to others similarly seeking to leave the city in hopes for a break from the dim aura that Los Angeles is. He can feel the weight of the city’s reputation lift from his shoulders with each passing mile as he maneuvers through the stretch of freeway congestion. 

A few honking horns bring his attention back to the conversation he’s currently semi engaged in. 

“This is a big step Dieter. I’m really proud of how far you’ve come.” 

He instantly cringes at the thought of getting back out to sell himself for roles. Facing those who were- and are- tired of his shit. 

The downfall of his career began when he was late for dress rehearsal for a role he some how managed to get— this role having potential to get him in the running for award nominations, propelling his career to new heights. But when he was no where to be found at call time, his assistant went on the search for him and it’s where she found him passed out in his trailer. He was too far gone to even pull himself together, prompting the director to fire him on the spot. 

The rate of speed at which news travels in Hollywood is the equivalent to a fast moving wildfire— once that first bit of gossip hits the ground, it’s spreading through the industry with a sudden surge of ferocity and growing far beyond what is predictable. 

His agent's attempt at damage control was a wasted effort. Directors dumping Dieter’s preproduction roles, actors refusing to work with him and threatening to quit if Dieter stayed on— his list of films beginning to dwindle in a matter of days and by the end of the week, Dieter Bravo was jobless. 

“The next few months will go by quickly, and before you know it you’ll be back out here booking jobs and proving everyone wrong.” 

Vanessa, Dieter’s assistant and full time babysitter, always seemed to have a way to make him feel at ease. And at this point, the only person he knew who believed he could actually turn his life around. 

“I really fucking hope so.” He sighs, this was his attempt at thinking positive. 

“Have you talked to her yet?” Her voice cracking through the car speakers as he continues his drive north on the 101. 

“Briefly. Told her I’d probably be getting in around 6 or so— BEEP!— Watch out asshole!” Throwing a middle finger at said asshole driver who nearly missed clipping his car. 

“She’s proud of you too, ya know. Might not seem like it right now, but she is.”

“Hmm. I’ll just agree to disagree with you on that point. Having a drug addict—“

“Former drug addicted, Dieter.” 

“Right— well, having a deadbeat for an older brother doesn’t really leave a lot to be proud of.”

“You’d be surprised. Hey, I got another call coming in. I’ll be in touch with you soon! Call me if you need anything! Again, Dieter, I'm really proud of you!” 

“Thanks Nessa! I’ll talk to you soon.”

The call ending abruptly, leaving him to sit alone in his thoughts for the next hour and a half—something he hasn’t really taken the chance to experience since, well, a long while. 

The Santa Monica Mountains provide a scenic view as he leaves behind the place he saw as his home for the last 20 years. 

His current destination plugged into his stupidly expensive sports car. 

Home. Where he grew up. 

*

He can’t even remember the last time he visited. Not due to the years as an actor taking him to all areas of the world. The last time he had been home was just over a year ago and he was high out of his mind, barely remembering the trip as a whole. 

His sister had asked if he’d be able to make it to his niece’s birthday. She was turning 6 and had been begging for her uncle to be there to celebrate with— he was easily her most favorite person. The specifics of the getting to his sister’s home and the actual party are pretty blurry for Dieter. 

Dieter spent most of the last year trying to produce a coherent flashback of the day that would ultimately be his last time using, the reason for his commitment to getting his life together. 

He never expected the lowest point in his life would be being caught in the bathroom of his sister’s home doing a few quick lines on the toilet seat, as his niece was blowing out 6 candles a few feet outside the tiny bathroom surrounded by friends and family. 

The moments following are a mixture of hazy clips, fragmented bits of information,

he’s tried to piece together to the best of his ability. 

The rush of someone bursting through the bathroom door, the echoes of laughter and music piercing his ears as he’s hunched on the floor against the wall, little specks of a white powdery residue dusting his mustache. 

There’s screaming as he does his best to focus his blurry attention on the distorted enraged figure in front of him, yelling something about being washed up— his eye lids heavy and fighting against them to keep them opened. 

If he had to recall the exact moment he knew he fucked up, it was seeing the hurt and disappointment on his sister's face— her face wet with tears as she poured out her disappointment and pain over the fact that he was strung-out at her daughter’s birthday party. The weight of his consequences bleeding through him as he vividly recalls his sister telling him to leave and not come back unless he was sober. 

The next day he checked himself in, determined to get his life together for good. 

*

He shakes away the subtle tinge of guilt that starts to bubble up in his chest. 

Remembering the ‘54321 Method’ he was taught in treatment to help ground himself when his thoughts start to become overwhelming…

5 things you see: the sun slowly making its way to the horizon, cars moving swiftly by his own, Live Oak trees rooted among the mountains, the slightest twinkling of the first few stars, his reflection in the rear view mirror— lighter, healthier, alive.

4 things things to touch: the leather of the steering wheel, his jeans fabric soft and comfortable, the cool metal of his rings adorning his fingers, the weight of his sobriety chip in his pocket a constant reminder of how far he’s come.

3 things you hear: the familiar beat of a popular song streaming through the car speakers, rhythmic tapping of his thumbs in tune with the song, his off-key voice as he sings along to the words he knows.

2 things you smell: his olfactory nerve triggered at the distinct scent of his woody amber cologne, that new car smell that still lingers throughout the car’s interior. 

1 thing you taste: a minty tingle on his tongue as he chews his last piece of gum. 

His nerves settle, his eyes focused on the road ahead, deciding he’ll right his wrongs when he gets to his stop— his sister’s house. 

*

The trip took longer than he’d originally planned. Weekend traffic to blame for the 2 hour delay in his arrival. 

‘Welcome to Ojai’— the stone sign greets him, dim uplighting barely making it readable as he turns on to the familiar street. 

The town is all but empty at this time of the night, street lights plus the few restaurants and bars that are open give off enough ambient light to drape the streets in a subtle glow. 

He’s instantly taken back to his childhood, so many memories tucked away throughout the picturesque landscape. 

Growing up with famous parents wasn’t all that glamorous in Dieter’s eyes. 

Dieter’s parents, Dean and Mary Bravo, were both well known in the tv and movie world. 

Dean had been known for his roles in James Bond-esque action films through his career, notably his best work among other smaller productions he worked on. Mary was the queen of daytime television with her numerous roles in soap opera’s biggest shows, a socialite getting invited to glamorous events and elite celebrity parties. 

Together they were Hollywood’s “It” couple, jet-setting to all parts of the world when schedules allowed for it. 

Dieter and his younger sister, while born into this movie star family, were raised far from it. Dean and Mary deciding to buy a home in the mountains outside of the headlines and prying eyes, a place where their kids could live a some what normal life. 

Normal was anything but normal. Dean and Mary didn’t let children hold back their lives and desires of more fame. Leaving them with nannies so they could keep up with the demands of working and living their best lives. 

Ojai, a small village-like town nestled in the valley of the Topanga Mountains, became a literal playground for Dieter growing up. 

Little reminders of his childhood still remain as he ventures further into town. He finds himself slowing the car a bit as he takes it all in, rolling the window down to let the evening air hit his face— it’s crisp as it trickles across his skin. 

The private school he attended all through his schooling years sits on top of a hill that over looks the valley. The school’s reputation was highly regarded and offered a plethora of academic courses and electives. Dieter found the  art and theater programs to be where he excelled most, painting and acting fueled his passion for the arts, propelling him into pursuing one as a full time career. 

He spots Bart’s Books as he drives on, an outdoor bookstore, that had become a daily hangout as a kid. The red wooden shelves still filled with adventures and history to get lost in. He discovered his love for storytelling sitting on the covered patio, nose deep in fictional worlds he dreamed of visiting. 

Across the way, a ‘no vacancy’ neon sign flickers on. Capri Hotel, a newly renovated hotel that still looks like it could have come straight from the 1960s with its mid-century design and modern style. He recalls the summer when him and his buddies regularly jumped the fence to swim in the pool, the cool water under the stars was refreshing during the California heat waves. They managed to only get caught once but worked out a barter with the then owners, they clean the pool and in turn can use the pool at their leisure. The hotel seems to be under new ownership now, but it seems to be doing well. 

On every corner there’s an art gallery. Some still looking as if no time had passed, others adorn new names and a fresh coat of paint. Several galleries offered summer painting classes, where Dieter found he had more creative freedom than in school to explore all mediums and really honing in on his style. He’s always imagined he’d have his own showing of his paintings, friends and family gathering to see his work— a dream he never lived out. 

His car parked and engine killed, he still hasn’t found the courage to get out. He can see a few lights on from the front windows of his sister’s quaint Spanish style home. Trying to not let the vague memories of his last visit deter him from going inside. He sends Vanessa a text, letting her know he’d made it safely and that he’d text her if he needed anything. 

Bags in tow, he makes his way to the front door. Nerves and emotions swirling around, reminding himself to breathe, letting go of the fear and expectations he’d had for this reunion. 

He opts for knocking, assuming Wren would be sleeping at this hour. 

The clicking of locks being turned, twisting of the door knob, the black wooden door swings open to the space that’s haunted him for the last year. 

“Hey, Diem. Sorry I’m so—“ He starts to explain his lateness before he’s cut off. 

“Dieter! Oh my god! I thought something happened to you! What the fuck?!” Her body launches at him, arms wrapping around him securely. He accepts the impromptu hug, dropping his bags to return the gesture. 

“No, no I’m good. Traffic was a nightmare and by the time I thought to call, service was fucked. Sorry for making you worry.” 

“You’re here and you’re safe— that’s all that matters.” 

This greeting is going far better than he had expected, but he hasn’t made over the threshold, still plenty of time for Diem to drop the hammer on him. 

“Come in! Let’s get you all settled in.” She ushers him in, closing the door and adjusting the locks again. 

He takes the space in, noting not much has changed from what he can tell in the diffused lighting, but he feels warm and welcoming even for him. 

“I got the spare room all cleaned and ready for you. New sheets on the bed and a few extra pillows just in case.” She seems skittish moving about the living room, picking up the few toys laying around the room and placing them back in their designated baskets. “If you want to sit, make yourself comfortable. You want anything to drink? Eat?” 

She seems just as nervous as he is and that makes him feel less anxious for some reason. 

“I grabbed some food on the way, I’m good.” Setting his bags down, he makes his way to the couch and sits down, deciding to rip the bandage off so to speak. 

Diem taking his lead, sits on the opposite end of the couch, legs tucked under her and hands resting on her lap. A lull hangs over them for a few moments, neither really know what to say or do. He notices her fingers fidgeting and decides to break the silence. 

“I know we haven’t talked much since the last time I was here,” He sees the brief wince on her face at the mention of it, as if she’d been actively trying to avoid talking about it. “But I want to tell you how sorry I am for—“

“Dieter, you don’t have to.” 

“No, actually I do. And I’m going to. Not only because it’s part of my steps in recovery, but because you deserve it— Wren deserves it.”

“She doesn’t know— about the drugs or you going to rehab.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it. 

“I won’t mention it to her then.”

“I just told her you were busy and that you’d be coming to spend time with us 'cause you missed her.”

“Why did you agree? After all the shit I’ve done and put you through, why are you letting me stay here?”

That gets her attention, her eyes glossy with unshed tears as she looks at him with nothing but love and forgiveness. “Because you’re my brother and I want you here, despite all the shit you put me through.” 

He shifts closer to where she’s sitting, wiping the few tears that had decided to fall. He doesn’t think he deserves her kindness, but is grateful he has this opportunity to do what he’s been wanting to do. 

“I’m sorry for the pain and hurt that I caused you. Not only at Wren’s party, but all the other times I’d said I was clean and wasn’t. For putting you both second to my addiction. I’m sorry for not being here when you needed me most. I promise I’m going to do my best to earn your trust and prove to you that I am committed to my sobriety.”

Leaning back, his hand digs into his pocket pulling out his proof, grabbing Diem’s hand and turns it over placing the chip in her palm. She looks at it then back at him, the most genuine smile graces her face before she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him in for a hug. 

“I love you Dieter! Thank you for not only doing this for us, but for yourself as well. I’m really proud of you.” 

“I love you too Diem.”

Releasing Dieter from the hug, she adjusts herself back to her previous position, now more relaxed with her elbow resting on the back of the couch propping her head up as she looks at Dieter, really taking in how healthy he looks since she’d last seen him. 

“Thank you for also letting me stay here. I needed to get out of the city for a bit, clear my head and shit. Should only be a few months or less, until I can get a few things lined up— have a few potential projects I requested scripts for.”

The thought of returning to his old ways terrified him, he had all the tools and support to continue working on himself outside of treatment, but he didn’t want to chance it. He instantly knew exactly where he wanted to spend the next few months re-acclimating back into this new way of living, away from temptation. Knowing their last conversation was anything but great, he'd decided an e-mail felt less grievous and hoped she’d find it in her heart to accept him back in her home again. 

“Of course. Stay as long as you need to.”

“And I can help how ever you need me to, figured it would keep me busy doing stuff, help out with Wren.”

“Oh my gosh, please! It’s peak tourist season the next few weeks at the Hotel and I’ve got a handful of events we’re hosting too. School runs would be a big help for me.”

“Hotel?” He’s sure he heard her right but doesn’t remember any mention of a hotel that he can recall. 

“Funny story actually-- I bought the Capri last year. Did some renovations and it’s been great really. Keeps me busy most of the time, but I love it.”

Diem was never one for the spotlight, especially with movie star family members, actively avoiding anything to do with Hollywood and its ostentatious air. She always had a knack for making drab things look enticing, so Dieter isn’t surprised one bit by the mention of her being the new owner of the Capri Hotel. 

“And now that I’m the owner, you can swim for free— pool cleaning is encouraged too.” He laughs at that. 

“Congrats on owning a hotel I guess. I’ll definitely be taking advantage of swimming privileges then.”

“Alright. I’m going to head to bed, got an early morning dropping Wren off before I meet with the planner for our next event.”

“I can take her tomorrow.”

“You sure? You don’t want to settle in a bit first?”

“Nah, it’ll be nice spending some time with her.”

“Okay. Prepare yourself for a wild time then.”

She kisses the top of his head before heading in the direction of her room. Stopping before turning down the hall, she looks back at Dieter who hasn’t moved from the couch, one of his hands rubbing at the opposite shoulder and leaning his head to the side to stretch it out a bit— the longer car rides really doing a number on him. 

“Dieter—“ 

His head turns towards the direction of his name being called. 

"Hmm?"

“I’m really glad you’re here.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

Next

[maple-the-awesome]

Happy New Year! ||

Pairing: {Any} Link x Reader

Words: 923

Overview: It's New Years in Hyrule and you plan on finally living out one of the most famous holiday traditions. Here's a very last minute New Years piece that I decided to write within the last hour because I've done it for other characters before, so why can't it be Link's turn? Happy New Years everyone 🥳

Zelda Masterlist 🎉 Fandom Masterlist

You’re certain even the inhabitants of Death Mountain can hear the current celebrations taking place in Castle Town right now. If not, then the gorons of this kingdom must’ve invested in some pretty efficient earmuffs.

How anyone actually enjoys parties like this is beyond you. You can barely hear yourself think over the obnoxious shouting of the crowd, let alone enjoy the music being played by a band Hylia knows where. 

Is this street lined with cobble? Going off of what you remember from when you first arrived this morning, you think it is, but there’s no point in trying to confirm it now. It’s been forever since you’ve seen so many people in one spot, packed together like sardines that wear colorful hats and clothing, but you definitely don’t miss being tossed this way then that way by such obvious mobs. 

At least the night will be ending soon. Although you doubt that will put an end to this overwhelming party, it will give you the freedom to return to your comfortable room at the local inn which you PRAY is soundproof or else you’ll really be cranky tomorrow, but for now, you must blink away the sleep and continue on your path since there are far more important matters at hand than a good night’s sleep.

“Where are we going?” The question might as well be whispered during a storm. You don’t hear a word of it, your only hint towards its existence being the way Link’s lips move in the corner of your eyes. They’re turned upward in slight amusement as he follows after your swift pace. The only thing that’s keeping you from being separated into a wave of sweaty bodies is your tightly interlocked hands.

Around another corner, shoving past a drunk trio and into the first breath of fresh air you’ve had in the last four hours. It’s not necessarily ‘quiet’ with the festival only a few feet behind, but you suppose it will have to do. 

“What’s with that sour look?” Link pokes the corner of your lips, earning himself a swat and a misdirected glare; a consequence of your disappointed pout.

“...This isn’t what I had in mind.”

“And what is it that you had in mind?” He raises an eyebrow teasingly, his grin growing naturally when you cross your arms while tapping your foot like a frustrated rabbit.

“I-I don’t know. A garden filled with roses. A lone fountain sprouting glittering, moonlit water - Something more romantic than this!” You gesture ahead to the narrow alley which is filled with only discarded boxes and untouched by any moonlight due to its position between two tall buildings.

“At least it doesn’t smell,” Link points out, but your scrunch up nose tells him that his optimism isn’t helping much, so he wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you against his side where you stubbornly stand with mocked annoyance written all over your face.

“...I suppose it will have to do,” You eventually sigh, leaning your head against him yet keeping your arms crossed as emphasis that you don’t really care for this ‘compromise’. You just don’t want to venture back into that crowd nor do you have the time for it, “...A garden would’ve been much better, though.”

“Agreed.” 

“You must be wondering why I’ve dragged you here.”

“To escape further social interaction?”

“No - Well yes, but that was only an added benefit; a type of ‘kill two birds with one stone’ situation. What I really brought you here for is tradition,” You pivot your body so that you can stand in front of him. 

Almost automatically, he fixes both of his arms around you, keeping them low against your hips as he watches you straighten his tunic, “Tradition? What kind?”

You hum and take your time in answering him,  “...It’s tradition in my world to share a kiss at the stroke of midnight during the New Year. Supposedly it brings good luck or something like that. I’ve never done it with anyone before, but you seem like a decent fellow; I’ll take any good excuse to kiss you.”

“That so?” Link chuckles, gently lifting your chin to look up at him.

You merely nod. Out on the street, you can hear the crowd’s voices begin to fall in sync until they form one joyful rhythm and familiar countdown. Leaning closer, you let your breath fan Link’s lips, your flirtatious smirks a mirror of each other’s, “One kiss for a year of good luck. A worthwhile trade, wouldn’t you say?”

Moments ago, you were forced to walk through a town of drunk people who had forgotten how to behave in public, so it’s surprising how well they all suddenly know how to count: 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…

“Fool. You know I don’t need any reason to kiss you,” Link whispers, meeting his lips to yours which acts as the perfect distraction that pulls you away from the eruption of shouts and crackling fireworks that shake Castle Town to its core. What was once so difficult to drown out is officially mute against your ears as you wrap your arms over Link’s shoulders and allow him to dip you into the kiss that molds both of your smiles together.

"Does that make up for the lack of romantic settling?" He pulls away only enough to ask his question, each movement of his lips brushing yours.

"Very much so," With that, you pull him back in for another kiss, after all, who said you'd have to stop after midnight?

[beautifultypewriter]

Hi! I love your account, I’ve been reading your Game of Thrones stuff (I actually just finished the show for the first time!) and I was wondering if you would write another Podrick x reader work? You can take it however you want, maybe the two of them having feelings for each other and dancing around it until something/someone makes them admit it? Pod quickly became my favorite character, he’s too good and trustworthy! Thanks for reading all this! :)

Hi!! Thank you so much and I’m so sorry for the delay! I love this concept though! So cute and so perfect for Pod. I love him. Before anyone comes for me, I know this is not how the dynamics were in the show, but I don’t care. I’m doing what I want. Hope you like it!

*Also this kind of has spoilers for the later seasons, so proceed with caution I guess*

Sansa had stopped talking when she noticed that you had stopped responding. She followed your line of sight and smirked as she saw what had taken all of your attention. She cleared her throat and your eyes snapped back to her, your cheeks heating up as she gave you a sly smile, “Something distracting you?”

You scoffed, looking away from her, “Not at all, my lady.” Slowly you turned back to her and she shook her head.

“You should just say something to him,” she looked off into the distance, her face turning grim, “life is short.” You slipped your gloved hand into hers, squeezing it gently. She forced a smile and met your gaze, squeezing your hand back.

You gave her a soft smile, “I really appreciate your advice, but I think it’s best,” Sansa’s smile turned into a smirk as she quickly glanced at something over your shoulder before meeting your gaze again. Your eyebrows furrowed, but you continued, “If I just-”

“Sorry to interrupt,” you froze as the voice reached your ears, the man seeming not to notice as he went on, “but I wonder if I might have a word.” You turned your head to see Podrick looking directly at you and you felt your heartbeat quicken. He turned quickly to Sansa, “If it would not be an inconvenience, my lady.” He looked between the two of you, waiting for one of you to reply.

Sansa continued to smirk as she pushed you towards the man, “Of course not.” She nudged you again, “Please take all the time you need.” Slowly she turned to look at you, her brows lifted slightly as she waited for you to say something.

Holding up your hand, you opened your mouth, “Um…” Closing your mouth, you looked at Sansa and then at Podrick, “Actually, I have forgotten that I am meant to meet with Arya,” you pointed over your shoulder, taking slow steps backwards in the snow, “so I really should get going.” Your pace quickened slightly and you hoped you would stay on your feet as you forced a smile to your lips.

Podrick was frowning as he reached towards you, though he knew you were too far away for him to reach, “Perhaps we could speak later?”

You waved a dismissive hand, “Sure!” Spinning on your heel, you hurried away, stoping briefly to turn back towards the disaster you left behind, “I’ll find you.” You spun around again so quickly that you missed Podrick’s wave. Once you were out of the courtyard, he deflated. His shoulders sagged and his frown deepened, a million thoughts running through his mind, as he rubbed the back of his neck. Sansa stared at him, her own frown forming as she looked at the spot you had just disappeared from. Podrick glanced at her, the tips of his ears turning red as he remembered that she was still standing next to him.

He cleared his throat, “My apologies, my lady. I should…” He looked around the courtyard, trying to find something to get him away from his embarrassment.

Sansa gave him a soft smile as she gently patted his shoulder, “Don’t be discouraged. You should still tell them.” Podrick’s ears burned as he stuttered, trying to deny whatever the Lady of Winterfell was implying, but she only shook her head and walked away. Podrick was frozen in place, words still failing him as he watched her go in the same direction you had gone only minutes ago.

The hour was late when you got word that Sansa had wanted to speak with you. You rushed to her Solar, not wanting to keep her waiting. As you pushed the door open, you breathed heavily, “I’m here, my lady. What did you need…” any other words caught in your throat as you stared at Podrick. He was stood by the fireplace with a bunch of wildflowers clutched tightly in his fist. Sansa was no where to be found. The door fell shut behind you and your mind went blank. Pod smiled at you and you returned it, at least you hoped you did. You might have grimaced.

You were snapped from your thoughts as Podrick cleared his throat and held the flowers out to you, “Might we have that word now?” You could see the redness creeping up the back of his neck and a true smile broke out on your lips.

With a nod, you stepped closer and took the flowers from his outstretched hand, “I would like that.” Pod grinned and moved closer, his fingertips brushing gently against your knuckles.

[e-dubbc11]

Trust Your Gut

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of rohypnol (date rape drug), fluff, smooches, mention of a little violence

Word Count: 2.7K-ish

Summary: You keep seeing a very handsome stranger every Friday at happy hour with your work friends. He saves you from a potential dangerous situation

A/N: Miss me? 🤣 I had a lovely vacation, didn’t really look forward to going back to work but I’m happy to be back to writing. And if there’s anything you’d like to see from me, don’t hesitate to send something to my inbox. Come say hi! ♥️ So anyway, I saw a prompt on the blog @creativepromptsforwriting and I wanted to use it. #1061 - “I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you smile.” “Then why haven’t you yet?”

Oh and I make mention of Tyler Durden, Brad Pitt’s character in Fight Club. If you haven’t seen it, what are you waiting for…it’s classic!

Not much else to say except I hope you like it! ♥️

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Before you had even set one foot into the bar today, you felt his presence.

That gut feeling you had all day while you were at work, a combination of butterflies and knots danced and twisted around in your stomach as you kept glancing at the time, waiting for the moment you could clock out so you could go and meet your friends for your usual Friday after-work drink.

For the past month, you had noticed him. The way his long dexterous fingers wrapped around the glass of bourbon, the way his throat moved up and down as the amber liquid trickled down his throat, and the clenching of his teeth as his drink hit his stomach.

He was so handsome, mysterious, and sexy as fuck. His eyes looked like two pieces of onyx that shined when the dim lights of the bar hit them just right and you tried your hardest not to seem like you were staring at him but he probably knew you were.

Every woman in that place stared at him. How could they not? Between his handsome face, the fancy suit and tie, those eyes you could get lost in, and a smile that made you weak in the knees, you were irresistibly drawn to him. He could have his pick of any woman but you were surprised that every woman that threw themselves at him, he turned them all down.

Why?

Actually, you didn’t care why he turned them down. You only cared that he did turn them down and you didn’t have to watch him leave with someone that wasn’t you but you were too shy to even think of speaking to someone of his caliber.

All of those thoughts disappeared as soon as you saw your friends waiting for you. You were there to have a good time with them, not to gawk at the handsome man in the fancy suit. They had saved you a seat and it happened to be near Mr. Fancy Pants’ table.

Your gut never lied; he was there already.

He was drinking with a few other guys also dressed in fancy suits. Your heart jumped from your chest into your throat and you managed to catch a glimpse of him before he could return your gaze although he probably didn’t even look away from his friends.

“I’m bringing someone for you next week, y/n.” Your friend Jenna said.

Your mind was somewhere else and you were staring off into space so you didn’t exactly hear her.

“What?” You replied.

She glared at you, pointed and asked, “You didn’t pay attention to a word I just said, did you.”

You felt bad and apologized.

“I’m sorry, Jenna. I guess I’m a little distracted.” You replied.

Every woman in the bar had a crush on Mr. Fancy Pants, but you didn’t let it show that you did too. It was difficult but you acted like he wasn’t even there. If there was a way for you to become invisible so no one would see you ogling him, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Stolen glances would have to do…for now.

**********

The following Friday, your standing date with your friends was rapidly approaching and you were nervous about the guy Jenna said she was bringing for you. She said his name is Tyler and he is a personal trainer/boxer at the gym that she and her husband go to. Every time you heard the name “Tyler,” two words popped into your head…Fight Club.

“…And could you try not to mention Fight Club when you meet him? I knew exactly what you were thinking when I told you his name was Tyler.” Said Jenna.

You shrugged and said, “Ok, but you know that happens when I get nervous. I just start quoting movies or blurt out song lyrics. I can’t help it. It’s who I am.” You said with a slight chuckle and batting your eyelashes.

It almost sounded like Jenna didn’t want you to be yourself but she wanted you to be someone else when talking to Tyler but you would try to keep your movie quotes to a minimum, although you couldn’t make any guarantees.

He was nice enough, good looking, and seemed like he enjoyed his job. But he was a little full of himself, dull and didn’t seem like the brightest crayon in the box, nothing like the real object of your affection, Suit & Tie. Everyone in the room was drawn to him.

Without saying a word, he commanded your attention and always seemed in charge of everything. That kind of power over people turned you on, it sent a restless shiver down your spine, and a sudden warmth brushed across your cheeks.

Your blind date, however, droned on and on about the gym, his clients, some of them famous people, which didn’t impress you in the slightest. Your mind wandered, thinking about if Suit & Tie’s taste in bourbon was impeccable like his taste in suits.

Your desire to taste the bourbon on his lips kept getting stronger with every sip he took. The words coming out of Tyler’s mouth were not registering and it sounded like he was speaking underwater. That’s how little you were paying attention to what he was saying.

There was something about Tyler that wasn’t sitting right with you, though. He put out kind of a weird vibe but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what it could be. Your intuition has never betrayed you before and you didn’t think it would start now.

Setting your empty glass onto the bar, you told Tyler you needed to use the ladies’ room and said you would order another beer when you got back. Emerging from the bathroom, you were startled to see who was standing in front of you. Mr. Fancy Pants. Your stomach lurched upward toward your throat before settling back down and he wasted no time starting the conversation.

“You have a date tonight, I see.” He said softly with a warm smile.

He noticed that he scared you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized and extended his hand for you to shake. “Billy Russo…nice to meet you.”

Shaking his hand, you replied, “OH! I’m y/n, it’s really nice to meet you Billy. And yeah it’s—it’s a blind date.”

Billy moved in closer, caging you in against the wall down the long and narrow hallway. The scent of his spicy cologne floated past your nose and he placed his hand against the wall just above your head. He was even more handsome up close.

“Do you like him?” He asked in a serious tone as the line of his mouth tightened a fraction more.

Not really knowing how to respond, you stumbled over your words at first but managed to pull yourself together long enough to answer him.

“Oh…well…I dunno,” You had started to say. “Actually…I feel like there’s just something off about Tyler but I don’t know what it is.” You whispered.

Billy’s endless brown eyes stared into yours. He looked…angry but you weren’t frightened.

“You felt that, huh?” He replied.

Nervously, you nodded.

“Yeah, I felt that too and confirmed it when I saw him slip something into the fresh beer that’s waiting for you on the bar.” He said through clenched teeth.

You covered your mouth in disbelief.

“WHAT?! I purposely didn’t order another beer yet so I could watch it being poured.” You asked in a scared tone.

“Look, I know you don’t know me but I don’t want anything to happen to you because, well…I” Billy trailed off. “Do you trust me?”

Strangely enough, you did. You trusted him like you’ve known him for years.

“Y-yes, I do…Billy.” You answered.

The corners of his mouth turned up into a sly smile.

“Good, because I’ve kinda developed a little crush on you in the four weeks I’ve been comin’ in here. I keep suggesting this place to my team, hopin’ I’d get to see you.” He whispered in your ear, his hand still pressed against the wall, and his slight New York accent peeking through.

His words went straight to your core and instantly goosebumps peppered across your skin as the scent of bourbon escaped his lips when he spoke.

“Really?” You asked, shyly.

Biting down on his lower lip, he nodded.

“Well…I may have a little crush on you too.” You said with a slight smile.

Your hands trembled as you reached for his tie. Sliding it through your fingers, you looked up at him through your long dark lashes, desperately wanting him to kiss you and not caring that you just officially met him a few minutes ago.

Billy Russo was the one person in the entire bar that you felt like you could trust wholeheartedly and that included the trust you had in your co-workers and friends. It was hard to explain but everything about him just felt right.

Billy had inched close enough for the two of you to share the same air, causing you to swallow hard before he spoke again.

“I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you smile.” He said slowly as he grazed your cheek with his knuckles and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, away from your face.

Billy’s lips ghosted over yours as you asked with a smile, “Then why haven’t you yet?”

Flashing that million-dollar smile, he gently cupped your cheeks and drew your face closer to his before his lips were pressed firmly against yours. They tasted like vanilla with a mixture of sweetness and bite as he continued to kiss you a little harder now. Your stomach dropped when his body pressed up against you and your hands migrated to his raven colored hair.

His kisses were even better than you imagined they would be.

Breathlessly, his name fled from your lips as he kissed up and down the side of your neck. You completely lost yourself in the moment before snapping back to reality and remembered about Tyler, your friends, and the fact that no one has been down this hallway since you came out of the ladies’ room.

“Billy…no one’s come down here looking for either one of us.” You said.

He pulled back and said with a devilish grin, “Oh I got a guy at the end of the hallway preventing anyone from coming down here. I didn’t want any interruptions before I could tell you what that asshole did to your drink.”

“Shit…I keep forgetting about that.” You said, pressing your palm to your forehead.

Billy smirked again. “I’ll take that as a compliment, pretty eyes. Have dinner with me.” He commanded.

“Are you requesting or demanding?” You asked with a warm smile.

He leaned in to kiss you again.

“Please?” Asked Billy.

Without any hesitation, you replied, “Well since you asked nicely…yes, I’d love to Mr. Fancy Pants.”

Billy started to laugh.

“Mr. Fancy Pants, huh.” Said Billy.

You shrugged.

“Well, I didn’t know your name so that’s just how I referred to you in my head.” You said with a slight chuckle. “Suit & Tie was another one I used.”

He laughed at that one too.

“Well, I like both of them.” He said.

Just as he finished his sentence, a voice boomed from down the hall.

“Hey Bill!”

Billy yelled back.

“Yeah, what is it Frankie?!”

“You done warnin’ Miss Pretty Eyes about that fuckin’ scumbag yet?! Says he needs to use the bathroom.” He said, his voice dripping with disdain.

You narrowed your eyes slightly as the corners of your mouth curled into a smile.

“Pretty Eyes? You’ve told other people about the nickname, I see.” You said to Billy.

Billy winked at you and replied to his friend.

“Go ahead, Frankie. Let him down here and then you can watch me work!” Yelled Billy, with a devilish grin.

He was breathless with anger. Clenching his teeth, you watched as Billy’s hand balled into a fist until his knuckles shown white. The same knuckles that were gently brushing your cheek a few moments ago were getting ready to connect with Tyler’s face.

“You’re gonna hurt him, aren’t you.” You said nervously; your hands shaking slightly.

Billy kissed you on the forehead and replied, “Tyler’s walkin’ in to his own personal Fight Club. I’m gonna make sure he’ll think twice before doing that to someone else, y/n.”

The reference to Fight Club made you laugh. Movie references randomly popped into your head at any given time. It appeared that they randomly popped into Billy’s head also. This guy just might be your person.

“Ah, you forgot the first rule of Fight Club, Mr. Russo!” You chuckled a little. “So, do you beat people up professionally orrrrr?” You asked sarcastically.

He gave you another wicked smile and said, “We can talk about that at dinner and then you can remind me what the rules of Fight Club are.”

Immediately after he started walking down the hall, Tyler began running his mouth, telling Billy to get away from me, and “hope he’s ready to have his ass kicked.” When he got close, Tyler took a couple swings at him but missed and Billy proceeded to show him what happens to guys who mess with other people’s drinks.

Shoving Tyler out of the back door, Billy bloodied him enough to where you knew he’d never do that to anyone ever again and had the bartender call the police. When they dumped the beer out, there was some white residue along the bottom of the glass.

“Hey, he took swings at me first. I was just defending myself.” Said Billy, after being asked why Tyler’s face looked like a mangled piece of meat.

Bar patrons and Frank had watched Tyler swing first so they corroborated Billy’s story that he was “defending himself” and Jenna apologized for trying to set you up with such a creep. It wasn’t her fault; how could she have known? But she still felt pretty bad about the whole thing.

“I promise, I’ll never try and set you up again. I’m not very good at it, apparently.” She said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Well maybe if this works out, you won’t have to set me up again.” You said.

Watching Billy talk to the police, you felt a sense of relief, and it scared you to think of what would have happened if he wasn’t there. If he wasn’t watching at that exact moment, something terrible could have happened to you.

Billy had finished talking with the cops when you rushed over to him, crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms tightly around his torso. The shock of it all had worn off and you were left thinking about all of the bad things that could have happened.

He was surprised but returned your embrace as tears streaked down your face.

“Hey, hey it’s ok, y/n. It’s ok. You’re safe.” He whispered against the top of your head.

“Thank you, Billy.” You said with a hitch in your voice, trying not to get your tears on his shirt.

You just kept thanking him over and over again. You had to make sure he knew just how grateful you were to him for today.

“I’ll never let anything bad happen to you…pretty eyes. You can trust me.” Said Billy with a slight smile.

His voice was calm and smooth like warm honey. He soothed you and reassured you that you were alright. Billy’s long arms wrapped around you, his body was a warm cradle for yours, and you fit perfectly against him.

“I know I can, Billy. I don’t know how I know…but I do.” You said as the corners of your mouth curled into a shy smile.

Brushing his beard with your thumbs, you leaned in to kiss him again. Instinctively, you knew there was something off about Tyler but at the same time, your gut told you there was something about Billy Russo that fit just right.

You would just have to remember to really listen to that inner voice from now on when it tells you something important, whether it’s bad or very…very…good.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @ittybxttykxttytxtty @mrsbillyrusso @russosafehaven

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[herofics]

hi! I love your works SO MUCH and I’ve had this certain idea in my head for DAYS😭 a gn!reader with Megumi and Gojo (separate) who’s cursed technique causes them to just be always tired. I really just don’t have the motivation to write this for myself because ONE I’m not very good at writing and TWO I like seeing others perspectives on ideas

Anyway, thanks! Have a good day and take as much time as you need on this😊

A/N: Thank you so much! I decided to do a scenario for Gojo and HCs for Megumi, because I didn’t feel like writing scenarios for both. This is basically just fluff and the character taking care of the reader. I've also got this post you might want to check out about a tired reader

~Gojo Satoru~

Gojo was gone for a couple of days again, and you had just come home from a mission too. His sleeping schedule was abysmal, since he slept between missions, but he never seemed to be tired, always all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. You, on the other hand, had probably not woken up refreshed for a single day in the past 13 years, ever since you started to first use your cursed technique. You were perpetually tired and sometimes even fatigued.

You’d learned to manage on your own, even on the really tired days. Though there had been a few times you’d almost caused a fire, because you’d sat down and fallen asleep while cooking, and something had burned. You had also fallen asleep in the bath a couple of times, and slipped underwater, which of course was a horrible way to wake up.

It was easier when Gojo was home, you knew nothing bad would happen, even if you happened to fall asleep or were too tired to do something. You always tried to make it as much of a fair split as possible, but sometimes you just couldn’t manage, so when he was home, he did his part and a bit more too. 

Gojo missed you, and he was looking forward to seeing you again. Even though it had only been a couple of days since you saw each other, it always felt like it had been too long. He was almost home, and he was basically skipping half the stairs up to your shared dwelling, he was so excited to see you.

He knew you would probably be asleep, since you had texted him you had also come back from a mission a few hours ago. So when he got to the front door, he slid the key into the lock and opened it quietly. He slipped into the house and closed the door behind him. He looked around and found you sitting on the living room couch, barely staying awake.

“Whatcha doing up?” he smiled as you finally noticed him.

“I wanted to stay awake till you came home, I missed you” you smiled back at him tiredly.

“Was it worth it?” Gojo smirked.

“For this view? Eh, I guess…” you joked.

“How about now?” Gojo said, unbuttoning his jacket while walking towards you.

“I really hope you’re doing that so you can take a shower and come to bed with me” you said, still smiling tiredly.

“Duh, what else could it be for?” Gojo rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Now that I think about it, I should probably take a shower too” you noted.

“Shall we then?” Gojo offered his hand to you.

You took his hand and followed him to the bathroom. You both took your clothes off and stepped into the shower. You just stood under the warm water, dozing off a little bit, before Gojo tapped your shoulder.

“My turn?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, sorry” you muttered as you moved away from under the water and grabbed a bottle of shampoo.

“Do you want me to wash your hair?” Gojo inquired as he turned the water hotter.

“Yes please” you yawned, and handed him the shampoo bottle.

Gojo stood partly under the hot water as he squeezed some shampoo onto his hand and started massaging your scalp as you stood in front of him.

It felt so nice to have someone else wash your hair. It was so relaxing, and you felt like you were melting under his fingers. You were getting so sleepy at the same time, which just made you lean back against his chest.

“Rinse yourself off and go to bed, doll. You’re about to fall over” Gojo said gently as he finished with your hair.

“Probably a good idea” you muttered tiredly as Gojo moved away from the shower so you could get the shampoo out of your hair.

You rinsed yourself off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a big towel. You brushed your teeth and went to put some clothes on as Gojo continued his shower. You laid down, wanting to stay up until he came to bed with you, but it was getting so hard to keep your eyes open.

When Gojo came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, while drying his hair. He noticed you were already asleep on the bed. He couldn’t help but smile a little. Even though your cursed technique had such an annoying side effect, you’d managed to deal with it pretty well. He just wished he could be with you more, so you didn’t have to always deal with everything yourself, but it wasn’t really realistic. He had so many missions, so many responsibilities with teaching and mentoring the next generation.

Gojo threw in some underwear and a t-shirt and climbed into bed with you. He pulled the covers over you and himself and pulled you close. You snuggled to his chest and he placed a kiss on your forehead. It felt so good to have you in his arms, you fit there so perfectly, it was a pity this wasn’t a more common occurrence. Sometimes you wouldn’t get a chance to do this for weeks, because you just passed each other like ships in the night. Being a sorcerer was enough of a pain in the ass as it was, you really didn’t need these side effects too. He just wished he could do something about it. He would do just about anything if it helped you.

~Fushiguro Megumi~

•He’s never seen someone sleep as much as you

•Of course, there are other aspects to your tiredness, such as difficulty to focus and being irritable

•Megumi is pretty good at dealing with you when you’re annoyed, he just mostly shrugs it off if you happen to snap at him and you talk it out when you’re in a better mood

•Megumi also tries his best to help you manage your tiredness and the stuff that comes with it

•You don’t just fall asleep in the middle of a battle, but you often can’t stay awake in the car afterwards and just lean on Megumi’s shoulder and fall asleep

•You’re also sometimes just too tired to do things, like clean your dorm room or go to eat in the cafeteria, so Megumi just brings you something you can eat when you wake up, in case you wake up when the cafeteria isn’t open

•You can sometimes become really reckless when you haven’t had enough sleep, because your critical thinking skills decline

•Megumi sometimes has to save your butt, and so do Itadori and Kugisaki, but you do the same for them when you’re in a better state and they need it

•Thought those two requirements don’t coincide that often

[kyojurismo]

Emergency r.

Hello! Could I request how would Giyuu, Muzan and Douma react to getting caught about to have sex or in the middle of it by your parents? I thought about something funny and kind nsfw to cheer me up a bit, like poor parents. I think a modern setting could work better (?) idk😓

Thanks for what you do for us and take care💓

▸ ANSWERING. hello anon! i’m sorry it took me longer than expected, i wasn’t really in the mood to write for it & i’ve had a kinda bad day on my own so. i wanted to thank you for your kind words and once again i apologise for the delay <3

▸ FANDOM. kimetsu no yaiba

▸ CHARACTERS. giyu tomioka, muzan kibutsuji & douma (upper rank two) x fem!reader

▸ RATING. nsfw

▸ WARNINGS. modern au! smut, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid guys), um tiny bit of degradation, getting caught, not proofread

GIYU TOMIOKA

you were back from college for a while and your boyfriend decided to pass by, taking the opportunity.

you knew it was risky. you didn’t knew when your parents would be precisely back but you wanted to do it anyway.

giyu trusted you, of course. that’s how you two found each others on your bed. your hands tightly holding to his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, the sounds filling your old bedroom were your moans, his grunts and the smacking of skin on skin.

“fuck— missed y-you so much,” his low voice filled your ears for a moment, followed by a whine. the way he was thrusting into you felt amazing, the stretch was too good; you missed feeling this close to him.

“i’m so close, baby. oh shit— giyu!” you arched your back, your walls tightening around giyu’s cock, who started twitching while filling you with his cum. you two came together… right in front of you parents.

when you tiredly glanced at your open door, you almost screamed and tried to desperately cover you both. “mom!” your cheeks were so red and you noticed giyu tensing up and he struggled to move and cover himself as best as he could.

your parents closed the door, shouting apologies and a series of sorry for interrupting. you covered your face with your hands and sighed.

“i think i-i won’t show up for a while,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling in shock. you turned to him, “what— you’re so dramatic, i’m sure they got caught at least once in their life… they’ll get over it.”

“plus, they can’t really hate you for making me cum,” you winked, making him blush even more if possible. you bursted out laughing and giyu’s chuckles quickly followed, fortunately.

somehow, you were more concerned about your boyfriend than your parents.

MUZAN KIBUTSUJI

your parents had a spare key of your apartment, just in case. you invited them over for dinner, so you could let ‘em meet your boyfriend.

what you weren’t expecting was how they would actually meet him for the first time.

your hands were gripping the back of the couch, holding you steady as muzan fucked you from behind. his hips were thrusting into you slow but hard.

“i want more! please,” you cried, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. “what a needy slut, you can’t get enough of this dick huh?” his voice went straight to your core, your arousal kept gushing around him. “look at how wet you are, shit— keep taking it like a whore.”

you arched your back while he finally started moving faster, his dick hitting all the right spots inside your warm channel. your whines became louder when he randomly spanked your butt, sending shots of pain through your body followed by those of pleasure.

“hey honey, we’re her— oh my god!” your dad’s voice snapped you out of your dazed state. “d-dad!” you pushed muzan back and looked for something to cover yourself. they were quick to turn around, giving you some privacy. “oh god,” you whispered, embarrassed.

“well, good evening,” muzan glanced at them, his hips covered by one of your blankets, a shit eating grin on his flushed face. of course he wasn’t embarrassed.

“quit it,” you muttered and slapped his chest, a bit sticky with sweat. “i was just welcoming your parents.”

DOUMA

you asked your friend to leave the dorm room so you could have some private time with your boyfriend, coming from another college. you were grateful they accepted without hesitation.

but you forgot your birthday was the following day and your parents wanted to surprise you by coming and take a cake to celebrate together, even if it was a small thing.

“i missed you so much, petal,” douma’s hands were caressing your hips, staring up at you. your breasts swayed with every movement, and he found it hypnotising. you were so beautiful sitting on top of him, riding his cock.

“m-me too baby,” you whimpered and kept jumping on his lap, his head hitting your cervix repeatedly making you gush hard around him. you moved your hands to rest on his chest and started moving with a bit more desperation, seeking the approaching orgasm. douma simply watched you, amazed and in love.

“that’s my girl. you’re close, aren’t you?” he moved one of his hands between your legs and he used his fingers to circle your throbbing clit, adding extra stimulation. “oh fuck! i’m close, don’t stop!” your voice trembled as your body was filled with jolts of pleasure, you arched your back.

“fuckfuckfuck! i’m—” you stopped talking when you came hard around his dick, your walls convulsing around him. douma grunted and thrusted up into you to guide you through it, his hands gripping your hips so tightly.

the door opened soon after and your mom almost dropped the bag with the homemade cake, your dad mentally passed out multiple times. “h-honey…” she tried to speak, trying to avoid the scene in front of them.

“mom!” you squealed and pulled a blanket closer to hide yourself and douma’s hips. he giggled under you, his hands still on your waist. “have you ever heard of knocking?!” your face was burning with embarrassment while douma sat up and made you moan lowly due to him moving, still seated inside of you. “w-we wait outside, let us know when we can come in,” your dad exited with your mother and closed the door, their voices were full of embarrassment.

“fuck,” you placed your forehead on douma’s shoulder, sighing deeply. “oh baby, they ruined it for you?” he muttered, smirking. “you’re– how can you not be embarrassed?” you glanced at him, noticing he was as lively as usual. “you’re the only thing on my mind, i don’t care about the rest,” he simply shrugged before kissing you passionately.

you momentarily got lost in the kiss, caressing his warm cheeks. but then you remembered your parents were right outside the door and you pulled back, starting gathering yourself. “try to seem ashamed for at least five minutes,” you muttered to your boyfriend, who nodded while holding back a laugh.

▸ BEFORE LEAVING. reblog and comments are super appreciated. thank you for reading guys, have a nice weekend <3

[that-ari-blogger]

"Do you want to know a secret?" (The Portal)

I think that the rules of writing are overblown.

Don’t get me wrong, there are things you should and shouldn’t do when telling a story, but those are more guidelines than actual rules.

Case and point, She-Ra is a story predicated on repetition, which shouldn’t be as entertaining as it is. The “bad ending” is effectively another season, which is a unique premise, and a threat that the story absolutely delivers on multiple times.

But, to me at least, the story is enthralling, and keeps me coming back to it. It works, not despite its repetition, but because of it.

Although, that isn’t exactly true. I’ve described the story as cyclical before, but it isn’t entirely. It’s a spiral, because the cycle of abuse is an innately unstable dynamic, and will only end in tragedy if it isn’t broken.

If you don’t want to take my word for this, I give you the season 3 finale, The Portal, which spells out the series’ thesis in about as blunt of a way as is possible.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Watchmen, Batman: The Killing Joke, Superman: For The Man Who Has Everything, Justice League Unlimited)

I grew up reading Alan Moore comics, and if you don’t know who that is, I both pity you and envy you. Alan Moore is one of the most misrepresented writers of the modern age, and its entirely his own fault.

Moore is known for writing V For Vendetta, The Killing Joke, and Watchmen, all of which have a distinctly grim tone. He is one of those writers who seems to care more about the story he is telling than how much people enjoy it, and so he usually has a point to make.

Unfortunately, we end up with the Cyber Punk dilemma, in which Alan Moore’s genuinely unrivalled literary talent leads to people really enjoying his stories, which means they unintentionally miss the actual themes of those stories. In the case of Watchmen, this led to people seeing the gore and the violence and the depression and trying to replicate that.

This is where we get The Boys from, shallow sadness and spectacle. If that’s your thing, go for it, but it isn’t mine.

But I bring up Moore in a discussion of She-Ra for a reason, and that is the relentless hope inherent in his writing. In Moore’s stories, hope prevails every single time, with the only exception being extremely subjective. The Killing Joke focuses on the idea that everyone is one bad day away from becoming evil, and that gets proven wrong. Watchmen is about how small humans are and how annihilation changes people, yet the characters are able to find joy and an escape from their trauma, and show kindness to each other even when the sky almost literally falls on their heads.

The Boys isn’t very good as an adaptation of Moore’s themes (In my opinion). If you want one that actually understands the source material, watch The Incredibles, or Justice League Unlimited, or She-Ra and the Princesses of Power.

I have praised She-Ra for its animation and pacing, as well as its overarching story, but I think its greatest strength is its humanity. Characters in She-Ra are incredibly fragile, psychologically, and yet they are incredibly resilient.

Catra and Adora’s development gets methodically and efficiently destroyed by Shadow Weaver, and yet Adora becomes a hero and Catra… well, we’ll see how that works out in later seasons.

One of my favourite Moore stories is a superman story from 1985 called For The Man Who Has Everything. This was adapted into an episode of Justice League Unlimited, but I prefer the comic.

The story follows Superman being forced to live out his greatest desire. It doesn’t sound that bad, but the point is that he is kept happy and therefore out of the picture while villains can do villain things. It’s very much a story from its time, and I love it.

Interestingly, however, Superman’s dream takes him back to Krypton, where he isn’t Superman, and he is happy. He has a wife, and a son, and he never lost anything. He can spend time with his parents.

Even with the shenanigans that ensue (because this is a comic), his time in this dream is fun, and relaxing. Until he works out he’s dreaming, and has to let it go. Superman gets the choice of happiness, or duty, and he takes duty.

The scene in which he says goodbye to his “son”, who does not exist and therefore does not matter, is heartbreaking, and if I ever do comic reviews, I’m talking about this one first.

I now turn your gaze to queen Angella, from whose perspective this story is being told.

The episode actually does a bit of a bait and switch with the point of view, convincing its audience that it is about either Glimmer or Bow, and it kind of is, but not entirely.

Angella has everything she could possibly want, her daughter, her husband, her city. There is no war, there is nothing. Everything is perfect.

“This is perfect, my love, but it’s not real. I remember now. I miss you so much, but Glimmer needs my help, and I can’t stay with nothing but memories. Goodbye Micah”

Does this ring any bells?

I want to point out that this is still Catra’s hallucination, the thing that she wants. So why does she want Angella and Glimmer to be happy?

Catra wants Adora, and arguably loves her, but in an extremely dysfunctional way that says "if I can't have her, nobody can". She is petty, and fully the villain in this episode.

So, the way that she gets Adora to be hers is by ensuring that the people who accepted her would have no space for her in their lives. Why would Glimmer want to spend time with Adora? She has her father. Why would Angella accept Adora? She has her family.

What Catra doesn’t understand is that love isn’t transactional, and that these people are genuinely kind and accepting.

There's the idea of "what you are in the dark." The concept of what a person does when there are no consequences. Characters in this episode keep getting moments like this, when they know that they are fading from existence, and are given moments to show their true colours. Entrapta chooses to be grateful, Bow chooses to be reassuring, and Glimmer chooses to be emotional.

The thing that breaks people out of Catra’s reality is the unexpected. Its Catra’s lack of understanding of people that leads to those people being themselves and instinctively breaking free.

Case and point, Angella and Glimmer help Adora, and because this world was completely unprepared for that minour act of kindness, it can’t keep them contained.

Now, I know what scene you are expecting me to talk about, so I’m going to make you wait, and talk about Catra instead.

Catra is the villain of this episode. If it wasn’t for this being set in her mind, she would have zero nuance. By which I mean, everything about her as a character here is done externally, the way she acts makes her seem like a generic, abusive partner.

Because let me be clear about Catra’s actions here. This is abuse, and it is treated as such by the story. The show doesn’t make apologies for her in this episode, or try to justify it here. Subtlety be damned here, Catra is abusive.

And so, I will read her this way, for this episode. We have seen the nuance leading up to this moment, and we will see a redemption arc. But this is Catra at her lowest, and so I will put aside the past and future to examine the present and the present only. Catra is abusive.

There are two ways you could read this drop in subtlety. One, there are parts of this character that you aren’t seeing, left blank. This episode is presenting you with a character and not showing you the whole thing. Or two, this is a character who has been broken by the story, almost as if parts of her have been removed or lost. Catra is now a fragment of her former self.

I wonder if any of this is reflected in her character design.

“If you hadn’t gotten captured, your sword wouldn’t have opened the portal. If you hadn’t gotten the sword and been the world’s worst She-Ra, none of this would have happened. Admit it Adora, the world would still be standing if you had never come through that portal in the first place.”

This hurts Adora because it’s true. Ok that’s unfair, and inaccurate, but it’s not entirely wrong, and that’s the kicker.

Catra isn’t making this up, she’s just leaving out important details. Because of course, if Adora hadn’t been captured, things would have worked out better, but who was it that captured her? Who was it that made the choice to pull the switch? Who was it that destroyed the world out of spite?

Catra blames Adora for her own actions, and that is, once again, abuse. Which is why it’s so satisfying when Adora stands up for herself.

“I didn’t make you pull the switch. I didn’t make you do anything. I didn’t break the world. But I am gonna fix it.”

Hope is relentless.

But I also want to point out the claiming of agency here. Catra was weirdly insightful at the start of her monologue.

“It's always the same with you, Adora. ‘I have to do this. Oh, we have to do that.’”

Adora’s word choice is a flaw. I looked back at the past few seasons and did a word search through the scripts. I don’t think Adora uses the word “want” more than once at all up to this point.

Essentially, Catra sees things, but extrapolates exactly the wrong message from it. It’s almost as if she’s only seeing half of the world, like her vision is impaired or incomplete somehow.

I wonder if that is reflected in her character design.

In any case, Adora frequently says that she “has to” do things. “Need” is also something she says a lot, and this has the effect of making her an extremely passive character in her own story.

Like I said, this is a moment of agency, but the entire story is a story about that agency. The characters are making choices to either get out of or go along with the downward spiral that the tragic form has set out for them. Catra made the choice to follow, but Adora didn’t. Adora’s word choice makes her look like she has made no choice, but a lack of action is still a decision.

So here, when Adora declares she is “gonna fix it", she takes her agency and decides to walk in a different direction.

This reminds me of an earlier episode, that being Promise.

Hey, look at that action. Looks familiar, right?

This is the only episode I found where Adora says she wants something, although her actual wording is “I never wanted to leave you” when talking to Catra. Go figure.

The moment in question was the episode’s namesake.

“It doesn't matter what they do to us, you know? You look out for me, and I look out for you. Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other.” “You promise?” “I promise.”

Agency. Adora is making a decision to stay with Catra and protect her. She is knowingly choosing to do something.

It’s telling that the two most prominent times Adora has done this have been to protect people. It’s almost as if she wants to be useful, or helpful, or protective. Almost as if she wants to be wanted. It would seem Adora is just as addicted to the highs of Shadow Weaver’s programming as Catra, she just has a better support group.

Although this isn’t a full victory, she doesn’t want to save the world, she is just going to, – we still don’t know what Adora wants – this is a partial success. Hold onto that idea, it will come back later.

“Do you want to know a secret? I am a coward. I've always been the queen who stays behind. Micah was the brave one. And then Glimmer, oh, Glimmer. So much like her father. And once again I stayed behind, letting her make the hard choices, letting her be brave for me. I told myself I was being responsible, but, Adora, I was just scared. And then I met you. You inspired us. You inspired me. Not because it was your destiny, but because you never let fear stop you. And now I choose to be brave.”

Queen Angella is voiced by Reshma Shetty. She doesn’t get much praise, but for this monologue, I think she deserves so much more than she got.

In my fourth post about She-Ra, I discussed Adora’s ability to inspire and linked her to Batman, something I stand by to this day.

In universe, She-Ra isn’t important because she’s a warrior. She exists as a leader, to protect people and pull them into a greater tomorrow. She shines a light for others to follow.

That is what happens in The Portal, Adora succeeds not by fighting the enemy, but by being herself. She only becomes She-Ra to destroy the portal at the end. To save Etheria, the giant sword lady isn’t important.

I mentioned earlier that humans are fragile and resilient at the same time, and I give you Angella as evidence for that claim. Here is someone who has lost her husband, and makes decisions based on that fear and trauma. But when push comes to shove, the fear is secondary.

Reality falling apart lets directors get away with true nonsense. Micah's staff has no reason to be here, other than the fact that it makes a phenomenal metaphor for Angella's trauma. But that's all you need.

Jon Pertwee was the third doctor, and while he isn’t nearly as iconic or influential as some of his predecessors and successors, he did deliver the line that defined the whole series.

“Courage isn't just a matter of not being frightened, you know. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway.”

I started my discussion of this season by claiming that this is the season in which the characters put a dent the tragic cycle, and I have mentioned several times that the cycle of abuse is unstable. So, here is my thesis.

Catra’s arc fails, not in a story sense, but in a personal one. The idea that every character has a single story arc is something is a specific bugbear of mine, and Catra is kind of my case and point for that. She has a redemption arc up to this point, and she ends up as a villain. Then the story continues and she has to start again and decide where to go next. She has no choice but to move in a different direction from here.

But she tasted redemption already. The crimson wastes gave her a taste of what she is missing, and it offered her an out. It gave her a choice, she made one, and consequences were served. I can’t help but imagine that for the entirety of the next season, she is considering running off to the wastes again.

That idea of consequences comes back with Adora, who makes a good decision, and is rewarded for it. Or rather, she makes a decision to actually do something. Adora becomes an active character, and that is what starts to break the cycle. Because now the motion is halted, and the puppets are pulling the strings.

But, this isn’t a complete victory. Angella is lost, Entrapta and Micah are still gone, none of the villains actually get defeated. For an episode with lasting consequences, not much actually happened.

This episode is big on the fact that this is all a dream, which should destroy the engagement. But it doesn’t. In reality, it preserves the status quo physically, but lets all the characters spontaneously experience character development. The victory of this season is that growth, but it came at a cost.

I want to briefly talk about that final shot, before I go, because this is how you introduce a villain. Sure, the voice acting is impeccable, and the cinematography gives an air of mystery and menace to this threat, but the showstopper is the reveal that this villain can destroy a moon with ease.

You see a fleet of ships, there was no battle here, just a villain showing off for nobody but himself. He gets interrupted by the plot, and he’s busy DESTROYING A MOON.

Horde Prime is f***ing terrifying.

This scene is in this episode too. It's meant to show how reality is falling apart, but I actually have a reading of why it's here. I think Catra wanted to preserve who Adora was, hence why she is the source of all the paradoxes. But Catra doesn't understand that Mara's legacy and Razz's teaching are a big part of Adora.

Final Thoughts

I’m going to talk about the implications for later seasons for a moment here, so if you’re avoiding spoilers, now you know.

I think Catra being the villain here makes her redemption so much more compelling, because she actually needs it. There is a difference between this and, for example, Hunter from The Owl House, who doesn’t really need redemption because he hasn’t done anything wrong.

Catra here has very much done wrong and is evil as defined by the show. But the show’s message is that anyone can change, and that the cycle of abuse isn’t set in stone.

So, Catra will redeem herself, and she will struggle, and fall back, and try again. Forgive her or not, the redemption is the effort to be better.

Next week (or whenever the next post is released, I have a terrible work schedule), I will be discussing The Coronation, so stick around if that interests you.

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[beautifulgirl223]

Intoxicating

Y'all, I'm in love with him. Like there is not enough text out there that will ever cure my depravity when it comes to how much I think about this man. He's out of character here I'm sure but I wish I could care. This is Rayleigh's character to me and honestly I'm the only one I care about.

About 5.5k words

CW: afab reader, use of she/her pronouns, cunnilingus (fem receiving), slight breeding kink, praise kink

Intoxicating. 

Everything about him made you desperately want more. He was addicting in his actions, his words, and how he treated you. Sometimes you were scared of how intense your feelings for him were.

But little did you know, he had it much worse when it came to you. 

***

She happily waved to the Straw Hats alongside Shakky and Rayleigh as they made their way off of the Archipelago and to the New World. 

“I’m excited to hear what they get up to next. They really know how to liven up the place!” Your eyes stayed on the ship until it was no longer in sight. With a slight smile you sighed. “I’m gonna miss them. Hope I can drink with them again sometime in the future.”

Rayleigh snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. “I’m sure you’ll get another chance sometime in the future sweetheart. I have a strong feeling that this won’t be the last time you’ll see them,” he chuckled. Placing a kiss atop your head as you cuddled into him. 

“I’ll miss them, but I’m happy to have you back,” you said, fully turning into his embrace for a hug. 

“What do you mean? After leaving Luffy on Rusukaina I’ve been back here, with you. I would never leave either of you unless I had to sweetheart,” he pulled you away from his chest so he could look down into your eyes, also giving a look over to Shakky.

All she did was shrug. She knew how he was, she didn’t need the reminder. But apparently the new addition to their relationship wasn’t as well-versed on how Rayleigh operated. 

“I knowwww,” you said with an embarrassed tone to your voice. “It’s just…”

He looked at her expectantly without saying anything. His expression speaking for him.

He could tell  by the way your cheeks were heating up that you were struggling to share how you felt. Even though you tried to hide it from him – which you were quickly learning was impossible due to a little thing called Haki (which you only knew about through him)  – he was able to detect how you were feeling based on your body language.

Embarrassed. 

“Of course I’m happy you helped the Straw Hats out. You’re amazing and generous as always Silvers…I just…” you averted his eyes, finding your nails much more interesting at the moment. 

That was until he gently grabbed your chin with his finger and thumb to look him in his eyes, demanding your full attention.

“I know it’s selfish of me…I just missed your attention is all…”

He didn’t say anything else as his mind recalled the last two years. While it’s true that he didn’t stay with Luffy the full two years during his training, even when he came back home, most of his time was spent covertly watching over their ship and waiting for their inevitable return back to the Archipelago. 

His heart hurt at the fact that you were right. He had been neglecting you when he didn’t even mean to. And here you were admitting so sweetly that you missed him. 

Oh. He was going to make up for lost time immediately.

The look in his eyes must have given away his intentions as Shakky looked over at the two of them and rolled her eyes lovingly. “I’m going back to the bar to serve the customers because you know, that’s how I get paid around here. Just don’t break the bed this time Rayleigh” she scoffed as she walked away towards the bar, lighting her next cigarette.

Rayleigh chuckled as he heard an embarrassed whine coming from the woman buried in his chest. Picking you up and following Shakky to the bar with the intention of going straight to their shared bedroom. You wrapped your legs around him so that you didn’t fall now that your feet weren’t on the ground. Not that he would ever let you fall from his arms. 

“You’ve been so patient with me haven’t you baby? I didn’t mean to neglect you sweetheart. Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

***

So maybe you had an idea of what was going to happen when you admitted to wanting his attention back, but you had no idea it was going to be like this. How did Shakky survive so long?

Rayleigh had to relearn what restraint was the moment he finally had you laid out bare on the bed underneath him. It was hard to think of anything else but you when you were looking at him so desperately… so ready for him to take care of you.

He could tell you were needy from the look in your eyes, and he’d be damned if he didn’t take care of his sweet girl’s needs after he’s neglected them for so long.

“You missed me sweet girl?” he asked, ghosting his lips over yours, kissing everywhere but where you wanted him most. His hands wandered across your body as if he were learning you for the first time. You both had done this many times before, yet he was always amazed at how soft your body was in comparison to his. How your skin felt underneath his hands. Every single inch of your body, your soul…just you, was intoxicating.

You whine and pull his lips onto yours in response to his question. His lands leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touched. It was amazing how was able to melt your brain with only gentle caresses, but he did so without fail each time. Whining as he pulled away from the kiss, immediately missing his lips, and he groaned at the noise you made. 

If he looked hard enough, he was sure that deep within your lust filled eyes, he could make out little hearts in them as you stared up at him. Being so patient and waiting once again for him to take care of you. His hand made its way to your neck and squeezed gently. The full power and control you willingly submitted to him made him dizzy. He was going to ruin you.

“I’m sorry I made you wait sweetheart. You’ve been such a good girl being all patient for me haven’t you?” he cooed at you. Quickly nodding your head in agreement. Already drunk off his praise.

“Y-yes, I’ve been good,” you whimpered in response. Waiting on him to continue.

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry I haven’t been giving you the attention you needed. I’m gonna make it up to you okay? My sweet sweet girl deserves a reward for being so good, yeah?” He lightly pinched one of your nipples. Not bothering to hide the shit-eating grin on his face at how your body immediately reacted to his touch. He was addicted to how responsive you were to him. Even if it was involuntary, it let him know that he was doing something right. 

He released your neck as he took his own shirt off. Allowing you a moment to rediscover his body. Taking pride in how you shamelessly eye fucked him. He even let you pull him down for another kiss. Sighing at the skin on skin contact. He didn’t even realize how much his own body missed yours until he was finally over you.

He pulled away from your mouth as he smiled sweetly to you. “What’s the safe word sweetheart,” he tapped the side of your face to make sure you were listening, immediately recognizing the spacey look forming on your face. He couldn’t get started just yet until he knew you would be alright. 

“Haki,” you said with a smile. Being able to find your voice for the first time in the last few minutes. 

“There you go…” he whispered. 

You drive him crazy with the innocent look on your face despite knowing exactly how depraved your mind was in that moment. Knowing how he’s the last one who will get to see you like this brings him a high he will never tire of.

He makes his way down your body all while keeping eye contact with you until he reaches the lower half of your body. He grabs a pillow from the top of the headboard and shoves it underneath your hips. He gently rubs your legs in a comforting manner while he slowly forces them apart. 

He breaks eye contact and mentally curses himself for not tending to you sooner. He wonders how long you went just thinking of him, how often you missed his touch, how often you craved him. 

He groans appreciatively at the sight of you spread out in front of him. Your extreme arousal was evident in the way it flowed from you. Suddenly he was dehydrated and his eyes glossed over as if he found a never ending source of hydration. His hands made their way to the back of your thighs as his patience was starting to thin. He coaxed the back of your thighs before he cupped the back of your knees and pushed them up towards your chest and laid his arm out over your legs to keep you completely open and bent.

You whimpered at his strength and how easily he maneuvered your to his liking. Turned on by the way his strength made you feel small and protected. you didn’t even realize that he had guided your hands to his hair until you felt his fingers run along the slit of your core and teasingly circle your clit. The touch took you by surprise as you gripped at his head between your legs. 

“Who got you this excited sweetheart? Surely it couldn’t have been this old man,” he teased as he continued to toy with you. Smiling at the way your breath hitched at his touch.

“You did, only you Silvers,” you whimpered. your hips jolted when he pressed his finger into you. He blew air onto your core, and he felt himself harden even more at the way your body winked at him. your body’s promise to him of how amazing you would feel wrapped around him. 

While you laid spread out in front of Rayleigh, all you could think about was how easily he could ruin you. He could ask you to go after the One Piece yourself and you would agree in an instant if it meant that he would never stop touching you. you wanted him to please you until you were brainless. Until the only thing you could think about was him. He could take you right now and all you would be able to do is thank him. 

“Please Silvers, I’ve been so good, please just -” he cut you off with a stroke of his tongue from your entrance to your clit. The moan you let out – pornographic and needy.

“Don’t beg,” he states, staring at you. “You never have to beg me for anything sweetheart. Anything you want. It’s yours.”

He pressed his arm harder into your legs to keep you still, and brought his other hand to spread you open for him. Mouth watering at the sight of you and the thought of making you come undone with only his mouth. 

Sure, he sailed with the King of the Pirates, but nothing made him feel more powerful than the way your body reacted to just his mouth. 

They both moaned at the same time. yours at the slight feeling of relief, and his at the taste of you that he missed so much. He licks and sucks everywhere he can get his mouth to, and groans at the feeling of you tugging at his hair. He has to press his arm down a bit more, because your body immediately tries to up the friction, trying to grind yourself into his mouth as much as you can. 

He greedily licked up your arousal as his eyes looked up from between your legs. Smirking at the sight of your already fucked out face. Your eyes blurry from unshed tears as your mouth opened in silence.

“You gotta breathe baby,” he muttered against you.

Releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding  “Thank you thank you thank you” you chanted as he continued to ruin you with only his mouth. It was quickly becoming too much too fast. As worked up as you were, you knew you weren't going to last long with how well he was working on unraveling you.

Your body tensed as you felt him insert a finger into you. Her body clamped down on the intrusion, happy to no longer be empty. 

“Gods you’re so tight sweetheart,” he groaned at the feeling of you around his finger. Knowing that you were going to feel even better around him. “Loosen up for me, yeah?” His mouth closed around your clit and sucked. Her body buzzed beneath him. All he could focus on was you. you overwhelmed his senses in the best way possible. 

It only took a few moments before he was inserting another finger into you. you cried out as he began to stretch you out. The tension in your lower body was growing tighter and tighter by the second. Her toes were curling as your breaths became even more labored. 

“S-Silvers! S-slow down. I’m-I’m,” you cut yourself off with a scream as he massaged the spot inside of you that you were never able to reach yourself. 

Rayleigh paid your words no mind as he continued to push you to your finish. While you may have been saying one thing, your body could never lie, and told him exactly what you needed. He knew you were close. And there was no way he wouldn’t give his baby what he knew she needed.

“You gonna make a mess on my face pretty girl? You gonna cum for me, beautiful?” he said as his pace increased. His fingers relentlessly hitting that spot inside of you as he watched you furiously nod your head. He hummed in approval as he continued to lap at your clit. The way he massaged you inside and out made your hips attempt to buck into his face. 

He grows harder at the sound of your voice moments before you came undone. you probably didn’t even realize that your voice started to get high pitched and whiny as you tried to warn him of your inevitable fate. With one last stroke of his tongue, and one last thrust of his fingers you started to scream. 

You looked ethereal as you reached your climax. He groans as you tugs at his hair, but he doesn’t let up. He continues to slam his fingers into her as her walls clenched at his fingers. 

The tension in your body felt like a rubber band that had been pulled so taut that eventually it snapped. Your orgasm crashed on you so strongly that instinctively you tried to move away from the constant pleasure that Rayleigh gave you. His arm pressed into the back of your things prevented you from doing so. The next best thing was to grip his hair as you rode out your climax. you threw your head back in silence as you took in a deep breath and screamed.

Rayleigh continued to work you through your orgasm while listening to the beautiful sounds that fell from your mouth. He grinded himself into the bed at the sound of your voice. It was a mixture of moans and his name. And he knew right then that his name never sounded better than when it was coming from your mouth.

Without relenting, he continued to caress you with his mouth, only slowing up a little when he felt your body relax a bit after that high. Only giving you a moment of rest, knowing that he wasn’t going to stop there. He wanted to force your mind into a state of overstimulated bliss. And he knew exactly how to do that. 

you tried to wiggle out of his grasp and away from his sinful ministrations. you needed a break after having an orgasm that strong, but the pressure on your legs became stronger. you was still rendered immobile and at the mercy of Silvers Rayleigh.

“Silvers, p-please. It’s too much,” you whined. Her mind was fuzzy at best. Still floating somewhere above your body and you couldn’t bring it back down. 

“But I thought you wanted my attention?” he teased from between your legs. He pulled his fingers from you and shoved them in your mouth to keep you quiet. “I know when you’ve had too much sweetheart, and right now, your body is telling me you haven’t had enough.”

This time he took his mouth off your clit to let you have a moment before he forced his tongue into you. A completely different feeling than his fingers, as your body tensed in appreciation. Groaning at the taste of your climax, he dug his tongue as deep as it could go into you. His nose bumping against your clit as he did so. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck…” you chanted at the feel of his tongue in you. He expertly explored every inch of you that he could reach while building you up again. He bobbed his head between your legs as he drank every ounce your body so generously gave. If he could spend the rest of his life in this moment, he thinks he would never leave. Thankful for the fact that you chose him. That you allowed him to be the one who you allowed to please you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life thanking you for that fact.

He took his fingers from your mouth and brought them back down to your core. Now that they were wet with your own saliva, he brought them to your clit, and rubbed it to the same pace as his tongue. Your body the instrument he knew how to play best. 

It didn’t take long at all before another orgasm washed over you. Not as powerful as the first, but just as satisfying. The feeling of being restrained making it that much better. 

You felt as if you could breathe again now that he finally decided that you had enough. He pulled his face away from you and gently released your legs. They flopped back down onto the bed as you were unable to control them. You watched as Rayleigh made his way up your body until he eventually made it to your face.

“You doin alright sweetheart?” he asked with a big smile on his face. You said nothing as you pulled him down for a kiss. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips and in his mouth. You tried to win the fight to see who would lead the kiss, but you lost immediately. Happily surrendering to the gentle caresses of Rayleigh. 

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, enjoying being with each other in a moment of peace. But it was only a matter of time before you became needy again. Your hands drifting down to the waistband of his pants. Clumsily fumbling with the fabric between your fingers. 

“Take these off” you mumbled into his mouth as he pulled away to take a breath. He chuckled at your eagerness. 

“Should I? Cause I remember distinctly a few moments ago when you said it was ‘too much’ and how you wanted me to stop,” he teased. His smirk growing bigger at the sight of your lips forming into a pout.

Your fingers finally made their way under the waistband as it was your turn to ignore his words. You shimmed them down, until he finally caved and took the rest of them off himself. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. 

Silvers Rayleigh was an attractive man in his younger years as he sailed with Roger. But how he looked then has nothing on what he looks like now as an older man. Nothing about him said old unless you account for the gray hair atop his head. Even in his old age, he looked as good as he did when he was younger. Even better now. And that even went for what he held between his legs. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of him. Wanting nothing more than to take him into your mouth. It was almost as if he read your mind as he brought your attention back to him. 

“Let me just take care of you, okay sweetheart? We’ve the rest of our lives for you to-” you whined in embarrassment.

“Silverssss don’t say it” he laughed at your bashfulness. 

“Sweetheart…I just had my head between your legs and you just finished screaming to high heavens, and you're embarrassed about how-” You pulled him down to cut him off. You couldn’t help what you were embarrassed by.

He relented with a smile as he kissed you back.

“You ready sweetheart?” he asked. You could sense a little restraint in his voice as he rubbed himself against you. Sliding himself along your center, letting the wet mess he left between your legs transfer onto him as well. 

You eagerly nod, excited to have him properly fuck you. 

“I gotta hear you ask for it,” he teased kissing along the expanse of your neck. “Let me hear you ask me, yeah?”

Knowing you weren’t going to get your way unless you did as he asked, you swallowed the last embarrassment you had in your body. There was no way you were going to cheat yourself out of this after so long just because some things made you embarrassed. You already knew he was going to make you feel amazing, so you just had to give in.

“Yes. I’m ready, please fuck me,” you asked quietly as you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to bring him closer.

Grabbing your hips to pull you closer, he pushed himself into you. Groaning at how you felt. Moving slowly until he completely bottomed out, his hips touching yours. His breathing turned a bit heavy as he waited for you to adjust to him. 

It really must have been a while due to how you both reacted. No matter how many times the two of you had slept together, somehow it always felt like the first. 

Intoxicating.

You felt full as you grabbed at his back to pull him in. His muscles stiff beneath your fingers as you grasp at his shoulders for purchase. 

He slowly pulls all the way out to force himself back in. 

“Still so tight for me princess,” he groans as he begins to thrust into you, “gonna be good and let me use you hmm?”

“Yes yes yes please use me,” you don’t care how pathetic you sound. You were finally getting what you craved for so long. You were needy and you knew he was going to take care of you. 

He folds her legs once more so that your knees are bent near your chest while your feet dangle by his ear. He uses his body weight to slam into you, driving you up the bed. He ruts desperately into you, addicted to how you feel squeezing around him. 

His thrusts are rough and punishing and the tip of him kisses the back of you, kissing your cervix each time he bullied his way into you.

Your eyes quickly glazed over once again and the nonstop pressure of him knocking into your spot. The constant bombardment of him forcing himself into you too much for you to take at once, yet you needed more. 

Resting your ankles onto his shoulders, he leaned forward to capture you in another kiss. Trying to hold himself out longer. How you were looking at him combined with the sinful noises falling out of your mouth with how tight, wet, and hot you felt around him, he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease don’t stop please please,” you breathily chanted in his ear. You were close to your third orgasm of the night and needed him to give you everything. 

He brought one hand and grabbed at your neck, while the other slid down your body and began to rub hasty circles onto your clit.

“Gonna be a good girl and cum on me? I wanna see you lose yourself again pretty girl,” he praised as he worked you to your end. His pace never faltered as he leaned over and put more of his weight onto your body.

Intoxicating. That’s all Rayleigh could think of as he fucked you deeply into the mattress. The sound of your skin slapping against him made him groan at the filthy thought. He wanted to make sure you never felt forgotten again, and with the way you were babbling nothing but his name, it was safe to say that he achieved his goal. That and how adorable you looked losing yourself over his dick.  Over him. “...only you Silvers…” your previous words coming back to the forefront of his mind. You were going to make him lose his mind.

You let him use your body, scratching at his back as he forcefully brings you closer and closer to a praecipe. 

Maybe it was because you were overstimulated. Maybe it was because it had been so long since the two of you slept together. Or maybe it was because of how he played your body perfectly…something about this orgasm felt different.  You placed your hands on his hips trying to slow him down. “Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck w-wait s-slow d-down Silvers!” You squeal. The back of your thighs tensing against his chest. You felt as if your body was trying to leave you.

He only held you a little tighter response. He’s got you right where he wanted you.Your body may try and leave you, but he would make sure it stayed exactly where he wanted it to in his hold.

He was going to be the death of you…but you craved him all the same.

You tried to hold out. You were about to make a mess and it didn’t seem like he cared. To be completely honest, it kinda felt like he knew that and continued his brutal pace anyway. His hips move in an almost primal way. It was as if he was digging the orgasm from deep within you.

“Just let go for me sweetheart…I got you, I promise,” he whispered in your ear.

Turns out, that was the final straw as you finally let yourself fall over into bliss. Rayleigh continued to fuck you through it all while praising you. Holding your body to the mattress so you didn’t ruin your own orgasm.

“There she goesssss, come on baby,” he grunted, bullying his way into your contracting walls. He wanted you to milk him dry. The way you were squeezing him made his pace falter. “You’re being so good f ‘me hmm?”

This time you did actually forget how to breathe as your mouth was open in a silent scream. Your nails scratched at his back as your third orgasm washed over you almost painfully. It took you by surprise how strongly it came. It was so earth shattering that you actually started to cry. 

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou…” he groans at your words. At how you thank him for how he makes you feel, when he should be the one thanking you. He moans when he feels how wet you’ve gotten, realizing that he’s made you squirt. It wasn’t his intention this time, but he’s saved this information for the next time he’s got you trapped underneath him. 

“What a messy baby hmm?”

His heart swells as he looks down at you. A heavenly sight that he feels lucky enough to have gotten the chance to see. Let alone be the reason he could even have the view. 

“Where do you want me,” he growls into your ear, “tell me where you want me baby?” he asks kissing behind your ear, removing his hands from your neck and clit. Moving them to rest on both sides of your head. 

“Want you inside,” she cries, “I wanna be full of you Silvers.”

In that moment Rayleigh would do anything you asked him to. If you wanted him to build you a ship and sail you to the New World, he’d do it without an ounce of shame and with a smile on his face. Anything for his baby girl.

“That’s my girl. Let me take care of you baby…” trapping your legs between the two of you, and used you to chase his own end. With only a couple more thrusts he bottomed out completely and finished deep inside with your name as a whisper on his breath. You feel amazing as you take everything he has to offer as he lightly thrusts into you. Finishing with a deep groan into your ear. He quietly keeps you flushed to him as he rocks into you, his way of silently worshiping you and your body. His way of thanking you for trusting him. The silence not needing to be filled as the unspoken words say enough. 

He lowers himself closer to your front, as your legs slowly let go of his abdomen. He places lazy kisses along your neck as the both of you try to catch your breath. You two sit in silence for a moment before he slowly pulls himself from you. He covers himself as he quickly leaves the room to grab you a glass of water. 

He comes back with a warm rag along with a glass of water. He sets the water down on the bedside table and gently begins to clean you up. His movements slow and calculated, being careful to not wipe too harshly in fear of overstimulating you anymore. When he cleans you up to his liking, he tosses the rag into the hamper in the corner of the room and guides you to sit up in bed.

“Drink some water for me princess,” he coos. You blush as the older man dotes on you and you do as he says, sitting up and taking small sips of the water. All you wanted to do was lay and cuddle with him, as your preferred method of aftercare, but you knew that he was just doing what he needed to before he indulged.

After you drank what he felt was enough, he took the glass from you, took a large sip himself and set the glass back on the table. He laid back into bed and pulled you onto his front so that you could lay your head on his chest. 

“How are you feeling sweetheart? You back with me?” He rubbed your back and brought the blankets up to cover your body as he stroked your hair. He knew that after a passionate session, you typically needed coaxing to come back to reality. It was his favorite way of taking care of you. Having you lay here completely vulnerable while you placed your complete trust in him made his heart soar. He would never dream of taking advantage of what the two of you have built.

You answered him with a hum, snuggling more into his chest, chasing after the warmth his body provided. Your eyes started closing to the feel of his hands rubbing soothing patterns on you.

“I’m…perfect,” you manage to say after finding your voice. Your voice was a bit scratchy, but you laid there wholeheartedly happy and satisfied. Knowing he wouldn’t be happy until he heard your voice. 

“You did so well for me princess. Was it okay? Did I go too hard on you?” He asked a bit worriedly. While you never said your safe word, he couldn’t help but be a little worried after each session. Wanting to make sure that he only ever made you feel good. 

“You were perfect Silvers. Honestly, I’d like it if you were a little more rough with me. Not that rough everytime, but…ya know,” she said as she traced her finger up and down his abs. Sex with Rayleigh most of the time was soft and slow. And while you didn’t have a problem with it (Rayleigh made sure you were satisfied each time), being manhandled is something that you wish would happen a bit more often. It melts your heart that this strong man treats you with the fragility and tenderness of ceramic, but you like to be broke once in a while.

“Strongly noted,” he chuckled as he placed a kiss on top of your head. “Shakky will be happy I didn’t break the bed this time.”

“Yeah well, with how you had me folded, I’m surprised I didn’t break,” she giggled. 

“Well if you want me to break you then you only need to ask,” he teased as one of his hands snaked down to your ass and gave it a slight squeeze. 

“Strongly noted.”

***

Literally foaming at the mouth I love him so much we're actually married. Shakky and I tease him all the time