#I'M SO HAPPY YOU'RE HANDLING IT BETTER THAN I AM

[dammit-tazmuir]

@grievingbovine I am always happy to gush about Paul ;w;

Also I feel like... I'm not sure if it's more "codependency isn't always bad" or "codependency is a term we've grown to use too liberally when what should actually be the defining factor isn't the behaviors involved but whether or not those are actually hurting the people involved" or something in between or adjacent to that. It also feels like there might be kinda two definitions people use interchangeably? One being the more medical term and the other a looser thing of like, deeply dependent on each other.

But semantics aside I know what you mean, and yeah.

It is, generally speaking, unhealthy to be SO dependent on a SPECIFIC person that you can't live without them. Cam and Pal post-explosion had a very unique situation, whereas for most cases in real life, it's better to at least like... need SOMEONE, a purpose, a cause, but also be capable of seeking a new one if you lose that, after time to process and grief. A Camilla whose whole life revolved around Palamedes but didn't get him back learning to live again for Nona, as a hypothetical, or Harrow who would not let herself survive alone but can live for God and for Gideon and for Alecto and for the memory of those lost to conceive her and who may find other purposes still. Ofc no one is arguing Harrow is healthy about that, but like, if you CAN'T find an internal sense of worth, a purely external one is still infinitely better and healthier than none!

It feels very silly but a straight up life-changing thing for me as someone who does the same shit was the anime Gurren Lagann throwing around the phrase, "believe in the me who believes in you." Over time it morphed into "believe in the you that I believe in", and ultimately into having genuinely self-assurance, but taking even one or two of those steps is like... YEAH? Yeah! You know? External validation can be so meaningful and powerful, and isn't antithetical to internal by any means. If you can find it in even a handful of different sources, even better. A thing I try to tell people a lot when it comes to mental health too is you don't have to Get Better to get BETTER. It's not "you're unhealthy and must be fixed" or "you're 100% healthy in all ways". Less unhealthy and more functional than you were is amazing and to be celebrated actually!!!

But at the same time?

Ya know, no, I agree, I DON'T think it's a bad thing to need to NOT be ALONE. I understand the importance of being capable of surviving alone, at least long enough to seek new connections. And living for a person or cause is always easier than dying for them ("you could have lived for her, but you didn't know how"...), especially if you're living for their memory after they're gone, but people should try to do it anyway! But to just..... want to be devoted to someone? To thrive on supporting or caring for other people???

That's not what I'd call "toxic codependency", that's humans being a social species. Hell, that's looking at stories and seeing how many supporting characters are vital to helping a hero succeed and deciding "that sounds awesome actually! Not everyone needs to be the hero, I would love to be a supporting character!" Especially when you're not losing sight of your own needs in the process.

Like... Sacrifice and martyr mentality can be horrible destructive things that do more harm than good, but sacrifice is also objectively a major way people show love. Parents doing without a little more to make sure their kids get something nice, someone doing a chore they don't like because they know their partner hates it more, etc. The difference between "my needs aren't important, I'm not important, I'll always prioritize others because I don't take care of myself in general" and "I have weighed the pros and cons and decided that I can handle this and wish to put someone else first in this situation" is not always apparent from the outside but it's an extremely important distinction. There's a difference between being needlessly reckless and hard on yourself versus making a decision to achieve an end you want even though it costs you something.

Cam trying to hide how rough carrying Pal was on her wasn't her being needlessly reckless, it was her being a stubborn bitch who knows she's tough as hell. If anything people have more grounds to criticize her going against Pal's interests and wishes by not giving him information he needed to make properly informed decisions! To think that he was in any way taking advantage of her when she'd have found a way to kick his ass if he'd tried to force her to stop is wild lmao. (Not to mention Pal literally killing himself— he was still Around but objectively dead all the same!— in the "dying for someone is the cruelest thing you could do to them" book. Like he ain't making big sacrifices fueled by his love for and trust in her too smh.)

And honestly? Yeah that does sound like the kind of thing that could save the world. Our world would be a better place with less people striving to be main characters and more people eager to support each other. More people should be saying "No you will let me help you, you son of a bitch. Don't you dare tell me it's Too Much." >:( So many people are afraid of Being A Burden but more people need to understand— from the perspective of the person with that fear and as friends wishing to help someone who has that fear— that only the person offering help can decide what is A Burden to them! It's not the other person's decision to make!

Palamades didn't have a right to tell Camilla not to push herself to keep him around when that was her choice, and anyone fearing their loved ones sacrifice too much for them don't have a right to tell them to love them less, either. Sometimes— often, really— the alternative is worse. And part of me has to wonder if some people are averse to acknowledging that because if they did, then they'd have to acknowledge that letting someone else help you can be actively beneficial to them, and constantly refusing to ask for or accept help is in turn actively depriving them of something that would help them too. <.< Too bad everyone, gotta let people love you.

Locked tomb hot takes:

Insisting that the birth of Paul is only a tragedy because of the uneven power dynamics between Palamedes and Camilla as Necro and Cav invalidates Camillas autonomy and undermines her as a character capable of making her own decisions. It also undermines Palamedes constantly checking for consent. He understands more than most that there is an uneven power dynamic and actively works to respect her autonomy as much as he can while also respecting their bond/positions as necro and cav.

In a world where those who identify as men have no natural power over those who identify as women or neither, we can not apply the same cisheteronormative expectations of male behavior to male characters.

Camilla made every. Single. Choice. Willingly. She had reasons for it, and Palamedes respected that more than readers seem to. We get plenty of examples.

"What would you do if you discovered Camilla was a murderer?”

“Help her bury the body,” said Palamedes promptly.

“Sextus.”

“I mean it. If Camilla wants someone dead,” he said, “then far be it from me to stand in her way. All I can do at that point is watch the bloodshed and look for a mop. One flesh, one end, and all that.”

GtN chapter 30

NtN chapter 17

The relationship between these two may be codependent, but it's predicated on trust and consent. The whole way through. This is the life Cam wants to live. Becoming Paul was what *she wanted*.

I find it strange that some people think they know what's best for her more than she does, just because she's a cavalier.

[paranormaljones]

I cannot keep having this conversation with my mom.

[snapscube]

so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.

my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.

obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.

of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.

and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!

sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.

this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.

also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.

[harrysfolklore]

we need a fic about carlos’ win and piastri sisters’ reaction to it

THE LITTLE BITCH WON 🥺 ahhh im so happy for carlos, i had to write this ! i hope yo like thisss

READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

The Mexico City sunrise painted the sky as you and Carlos made your way to the track. He'd been unusually quiet during breakfast, that focused energy already building.

"Nervous?" you asked, squeezing his hand as your driver navigated through the early morning traffic.

"No," he said automatically, then caught your knowing look. "Maybe a little. Starting from pole here… the run to Turn 1 is so long."

"You've got this," you brought his hand to your lips.

"Max will be aggressive-"

"And you'll handle it," you cut him off. "Like the little bitch you are."

That broke his tension, making him laugh. "How do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better by insulting me."

"It's a gift," you grinned. "Now stop overthinking and kiss me before we get to the track and you go all serious racing driver on me."

He obliged, one hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you close. The kiss was deep and slow, full of everything he wasn't saying.

When you pulled back, his brown eyes locked into yours, a soft edge on them that made you melt.

It was hard to think that those same eyes glared you across the paddock once and now you were about to complete five months of being his girlfriend.

When you arrived at Ferrari, Reyes and Carlos Sr. were already there. Reyes pulled you into a warm hug while Carlos got swept up in pre-race preparations.

"My girl," she kissed both your cheeks. "You look beautiful today."

"Thank you, Reyes," you said, squeezing her hands before your eyes unconsciously drifted to the McLaren area.

"You're going to check on your brother?" she asked knowingly.

"Am I that predictable?"

"No, mi amor. Just a good sister."

You couldn't help but smile at that. Over the months you've slowly learned to not feel like you needed to choose between Carlos and Oscar, it was a slow process but their support made it easier.

You found Carlos doing his final preparations. "I'm going to check on Osc for a bit.”

He nodded, already half in race mode. "Tell him I said he's got this. The McLaren's race pace looked good."

"I will," you kissed his cheek. "See you on the podium, little bitch."

His engineer snorted, trying to cover it with a cough.

The walk to McLaren was filled with nervous energy. Early fans were already filling the grandstands, the atmosphere electric with anticipation.

The McLaren garage was quieter than Ferrari, the mood still heavy from yesterday's qualifying. You found Oscar in his driver room, staring intently at track maps.

"Brought you coffee," you held out his favorite pre-race drink. "And Carlos says your race pace looked good."

"Thanks," he took the cup but didn't meet your eyes. "For both."

You sat beside him, studying his face. "Talk to me, Osc. What's really going on?"

He was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer.

"I just..." he set down the coffee, running both hands through his hair. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for this. Like everyone made a mistake choosing me."

Your heart broke. "Oscar..."

"And I know it's stupid. I know I've earned my place here, but days like yesterday... it just brings all those doubts back."

"Look at me," you waited until he met your eyes. "Do you remember when you were ten, and you came home crying because some kid said you'd never make it to F1?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "And you made him eat dirt at school the next day."

"Exactly. And what did I tell you then?"

"That I was meant for this," his voice softened. "That you could see it in the way I drove, even in karts."

"And has that changed?"

"No, but-"

"No buts," you took his hands. "You're exactly where you're supposed to be, Oscar Piastri. Bad qualifyings don't change that. Bad races don't change that. You're my little brother, and I've never been wrong about you."

He squeezed your hands. "How do you always know what to say?"

"Big sister superpower," you kissed his forehead. "Now drink your coffee and show them what you can do from P17.”

“Thank you, sister,” he squeezed your shoulder, “Now go back to your man, he’s driving like a beast this weekend.”

When you returned to Ferrari, the pre-race energy was at its peak. Carlos was in his final preparations, but his eyes found yours immediately.

"Oscar okay?" he mouthed.

You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. Another side effect of your relationship was that Oscar and Carlos became closer than ever. Oscar looked up to him and Carlos grew so fond of him that he cared about him like an older brother.

It was something not even in your wildest dreams would make sense a year ago. But right now felt like the perfect dynamic.

The garage began clearing for the grid walk. Carlos pulled you aside quickly.

"Para suerte," he murmured, kissing you deeply.

"Little bitch," you whispered against his lips. "Go win this thing."

Reyes and Carlos Sr. were waiting in the garage, both greeting you with warm hugs as you settled in to watch the start.

"Nervous?" Reyes asked, taking your hand.

"Always," you admitted. "For both of them."

The formation lap began, your heart pounding as you watched Carlos lead the field around. The ambient temperature was rising, making tire management crucial.

"He's got this," Carlos Sr. said confidently. "Look how smooth his formation lap is."

The garage fell silent as five red lights appeared above the start line. Your hand found Reyes', both of you holding your breath. The Mexican heat was stifling, but you barely noticed, every nerve focused on the Ferrari at the front of the grid.

"Vamos, hijo," Carlos Sr. whispered, his usual composed demeanor cracking with nervous energy.

The lights went out, and twenty cars launched forward into the long run to Turn 1. Carlos got a perfect start, but Max's Red Bull was immediately in his slipstream, the blue car looming in Carlos's mirrors. Side by side they went into the first corner, neither giving an inch.

"Come on, come on," you whispered, unconsciously leaning forward.

Carlos held firm on the inside line, forcing Max to take the longer way around. Through Turn 2, the Ferrari emerged still leading, and the garage erupted. Engineers who usually maintained professional calm were jumping up and down.

"Tranquila, mi amor," Reyes squeezed your hand. "Look how controlled he is."

The pit stop window approached, tension ratcheting up. Ferrari brought Charles in first, the stop clean but nerve-wracking.

"Pushing too hard on those tires," Carlos Sr. observed as Carlos finally pitted.

When Carlos crossed the finish line first, the garage exploded. You hugged Reyes, both of you crying and laughing. Carlos Sr. wrapped you both in a bear hug, his usual composure forgotten as he shouted "¡Vamos!" repeatedly.

Through happy tears, you saw Carlos pump his fist as he drove past, and you couldn't be happier for him.

The podium ceremony felt eternal. When they finally played the Spanish anthem, you saw Carlos's eyes glistening as he sang along. He caught your gaze in the crowd and winked, making your heart flutter just like it did that first time you saw him win in Australia.

Back then, you tried to play it cool, like you didn't care that he won. But right now the story was completely different.

After the ceremonies and media obligations, Carlos finally made it back to the team. He lifted you off your feet the moment he saw you, spinning you around as you laughed.

"Mi amor," he breathed against your lips before kissing you deeply.

"My champion," you whispered back. "My little bitch."

He laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "Only yours."

Carlos received hugs, cheers and champagne showers from friends, team members and family. After taking some photos and watching him complete more interviews, it was time to head out and celebrate.

"I'm going to check on Oscar one more time," you told Carlos, as you walked through the paddock.

"Tell him to come to dinner," Carlos said. "He drove well today, P8 from P17."

You found Oscar in the McLaren garage, already changed and packing up.

"Hey champ," you smiled. "Coming to dinner with us?"

He gave you a small smile back. "Think I'll pass tonight. Bit tired, and…" he paused. "Just want some quiet, you know?"

You studied his face. "You sure? Carlos specifically asked for you to come."

"I know, and tell him thanks," Oscar squeezed your hand. "But you guys should celebrate properly. I'm good, really. Just going to order room service and study the race data."

You pulled him into a hug. "You drove amazingly today. P8 from P17 is no joke."

"Thanks, sis," he hugged you back tight. "Go celebrate with your winner. Just... maybe not too loudly in the hotel? The walls are thin."

"OSCAR!"

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 376,528 others

ynpiastri MY LITTLE CHAMPION BITCH 🥲🥲 i’m SO proud of you mi amor, we all are. one more win this season showing everyone the talented driver that you are. the best is yet to come ❤️

also beyond proud of my baby brother as always, your determination and ability to push through every setback never ceases to amaze me. chin up, i know you got this

oh and lando got p2 i guess

GRACIAS MEXICO CITY 😩

view all comments

username1 AHHHH

username2 SIMP PIASTRI

username3 this is still wild to me they used to hate each other’s guts

scuderiaferarri ❤️

username4 this is wild bc she hated him when he won in australia 😭

nicolepiastri Congrats Carlos! Come visit and bring embarrassing stories of my daughter please

↳ ynpiastri MUM😩

↳ username1 she’s an icon

reyesvdec Te amamos ❤️

↳ username2 the sainz love her so much i could cry

username5 HELP THE LINE ABOUT LANDO 😭

oscarpiastri Love you sis. Congrats to Carlos ❤️

↳ carlossainz55 Thank you brother

↳ username2 this would send 2023 me into a coma

↳ username3 THIS PLOT TWIST

carlossainz55 Te amo

At the restaurant, Lando was the only driver who joined your celebration with the Sainz family. He fit right in, making everyone laugh with stories about Carlos.

"You know," Lando said, taking a sip of wine, "I used to be Reyes and Carlos Sr.'s favorite adopted son."

"Used to be?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, then you came along with your whole enemies-to-lovers storyline and stole my spot," he pouted dramatically. "Now I'm like the forgotten middle child."

"Ay, Lando," Reyes laughed, reaching over to pat his cheek. "You're still our favorite British son."

"Small comfort when YN gets all the good Spanish mom cooking," Lando grumbled good-naturedly.

After dinner, it was time for the party celebrating Carlos' win. He claimed that he didn't want to drink much, but that went out the window when his friends lifted him up as 'Smooth Operator' played.

"SMOOTH OPERATOOOOR!" they sang terribly off-key. Carlos was laughing, one hand clutching his drink, the other reaching for you.

"Join me up here, mi amor!"

"Absolutely not," you called back, but you were laughing too.

Hours later, the celebrations were winding down. You stood outside waiting for your car, Carlos' arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. The Mexico City air was cooler now, but his warmth kept you comfortable.

"I still can't believe it," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck. "Second win this season."

You turned in his arms to face him, taking in his slightly flushed cheeks and bright eyes. The victory high was still there, mixed with the pleasant buzz from the celebrations.

"You know what's different this time?" you asked, playing with the collar of his shirt.

"Hmm?"

"I don't have to pretend I'm not happy for you," you smiled, remembering Australia. "Don't have to hide how proud I am."

His eyes softened as he pulled you closer. "You were terrible at hiding it even then."

"I was not!"

"Mi amor," he laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "You called me 'little bitch' with way too much affection."

"That was pure hatred," you protested weakly.

"Sure it was," he grinned. "Just like when you stared at me during the podium ceremony."

"I was plotting your demise."

"With heart eyes?"

"Shut up," you buried your face in his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter.

"Never," he kissed the top of your head. "I love reminding you how bad you were at hating me."

"I'm starting to hate you again right now."

"No you're not," he tilted your chin up, eyes twinkling. "You love me."

Before you could retort, the car pulled up. As you settled into the backseat, Carlos pulled you close again.

"For the record," he whispered in your ear, "I was terrible at pretending too. Ask Charles - he said I talked about you constantly."

"To complain?"

"That's what I told myself," he smiled against your hair. "But I think everyone knew better."

You intertwined your fingers with his, watching the city lights blur past. "We were kind of idiots, weren't we?"

"The biggest," he agreed. "But we figured it out eventually."

"Yeah," you turned to kiss him softly. "We did."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your phone wakes you. The room tilts as you open your eyes. A dull hammering thrums in your temples. The morning light makes your brain rough as sand paper. 

Dregs of vodka stick to your dry tongue. The hangover weighs you down like an anchor. Just the thought of moving hurts. 

You reach blindly for your jittering phone. Bubbly music tinkles from the speaker. Shit. It's Barrett. What did he forget this time? 

You answer and put your clammy palm to your forehead. You squint at the ceiling then your eyes slowly round. Where the fuck are you?  

"Hey, babe. You at Wendy's?" Your husband asks. 

You gulp and peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. This isn't Wendy's house. 

"Yep," you croak. Your eyes ping side to side. 

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. Things got heated and I know I was an ass--" 

You cough as you sit up in the strange bed. "Yeah, you were." 

"So why don't you come home and we can talk it out." 

You peer around the room and your lips curve in a frown. Where the hell would you go besides home your loyal best friend's? You scratch you scalp and turn your legs over the edge of the bed, "let me get myself together." 

"Babe. Please. I'm sorry." 

"When I get home." You hang up.  

It was a hell of fight. The minute he started yelling, you bailed. He knows better. You're not doing a ten hour day and coming home his nagging. So you left out your coffee mug. Big deal. You didn't say anything about the garbage bag he left out to be torn apart by raccoons. 

Whatever. Fighting over dishes. Not of it matters right now. 

Your clothes are on the floor. Someone's floor. Who it is is far from the point. You stand and stagger. You catch yourself on the nightstand. Your hand moves instinctively between your legs. 

You're naked and tender. Did you have sex? 

Think! You ran out with your purse. You went to Wendy's. She was up for a night out. A night to forget and body did you. First drink, second, third, then it gets blurry.  

Fuck! You didn't. You wouldn't. You're pissed at your husband but you wouldn't cheat on him. You're not that type of person. Right? 

You don't have time for that. You have to get out of here.  

You dress as you search the room. It's tidy. Half the bed is mad and the other half messed from your drunken slumber. 

You shake out your hands trying to shoo away the flurry of guilt and denial. Just get out. You'll think better with some coffee in your system.  

You push down the door handle slowly. You listen to the silence of the hall. You tiptoe out warily, checking left and right as you advance. It's a nice place. A condo. Much nicer than your cramped one bedroom. 

Not important! 

You come out into the spacious front room. It's as empry as the rest of the place. The kitchen too. The bathroom. No one. 

Your purse is by the door. Your shoes too. You grab both and let yourself out. You'd rather not face your mistake. 

No, you didn't do anything. You wouldn't. 

You hurry down the hallway to the elevators. You don't look back, just keep going. You don't think, just go. 

It isn't until you're outside the familiar cafe marquee that your let your mind settle. You enter and join the queue. Your order a black coffee and drink it at a stool by the window.  

You lean your elbows on the high table that stands inside the pane. You take a slow, savouring swig of coffee and let it trickle down your throat. You shield your face from the New York morning and put your hands over your ears. 

You can't remember anything but Wendy. Your anger had you ordering round after round, trying to drown out the bile. The thought makes your stomach lurch and you gulp thickly. 

You shake your head and groan. Your phone chirps. It's probably Barrett. Several messages from him and missed calls. All through the night. It's bad enough you betrayed him, you had him up worrying. 

No, you didn't! 

It can't have happened if you don't remember it. A generous stranger took you home so you didn't wake up on the curb. That's it. 

That's the story. Nothing happened. And you'll let Barret believe you were with Wendy. It won't make a difference. 

Your mind is set. Nothing happened. 

Nothing. Happened. 

Because you don't remember. Because you were too drunk to do that. Because you're married and it can't happen. 

You're going to finish your coffee and go home. Everything will be just like it was before... after you tell Barrett where to put that coffee mug if it's such a big deal. 

[l1tw1ck]

My Liege

bottom!ftm!knight Xiao x top!masc!king reader

☆ Word Count: 1,128 ☆

AFAB Language Used | Don't expect a part two this was in the vault for months 😭

CW: Non-Con, Dacryphilia, Fingering, Virginity Loss, Belly Bulge, Riding, Squirting

Reader Discretion is Advised

As the king of Liyue, it's expected for you to have personal bodyguards. Between you and your husband, Zhongli, you have 4 knights.

Ganyu, Keqing, Shenhe, and Xiao. You typically take Xiao and Keqing due to their rationality and level heads. On trips to smaller and safer places you only bring Xiao.

These particular trips allow you to spend some time with your secret lover. You still think back on the first time you started your new relationship.

"May I ask where we're going, your highness?" Xiao asks, following you to an unknown location.

"Just somewhere to get away from the crowd. It was a little too much to handle today." You reply, leading him to a secluded and worn down building. "Do a perimeter check." You enter the place and look around, happy to find a chair that's still intact.

"Yes sir." Xiao looks around the area and defeats any hilichurls and slimes that were lingering around. After double checking, he stands in front of the entrance. You grab Xiao and force him to sit down with you, pushing his back against your chest.

"Sir?" Xiao whispers worriedly, assuming there's a person somewhere.

You lean your head down to talk in his ear. "Shh." Your arm is wrapped around his stomach so he doesn't move, your other hand tugging his tank top upwards.

Whenever you tell him to be quiet, he listens and doesn't say a word until you allow him to. So even as you push his top all the way up and grope his chest, he stays silent. Even if he isn't comfortable with it.

"Sorry but I have to use you, Xiao." You kiss his neck. "Zhongli doesn't have time for this kind of thing anymore..." Your hand moves to pull his pants down.

Xiao closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, hating the way you're touching him and how your bulge is pressing against his ass.

"Your body is so pretty, Xiao." You play around with his clit. "Do you know how pretty you are?" Your fingers move down to touch his increasingly wet cunt.

Xiao tries his best not to cry, he hasn't felt this weak in years. He hadn't cried and was convinced he became unable to since his friends died. He couldn't even remember what it was like to cry.

"Pull my pants down for me."

He shakily unzips your slacks and pulls them down. You grab his hips and force him to rub against your bulge. "Come on, do it yourself."

Xiao grimaces and starts rolling his hips. You go back to playing with his clit, making his movements inconsistent and shaky.

"Good boy." You groan and turn his head to look at you.

Xiao comes with a whimper, tightening around nothing. You bring him into a heated kiss, leaving him even more out of breath than he already was.

You turn Xiao to face you completely and bring his hand to the waistband of your boxers. "Do you want it, sweetheart? Tell me you want my cock inside you."

"I...I want your- your co...cock inside me." Xiao frowns and pulls your underwear off, your hard length is making Xiao nervous. "My liege...I'm- I've never done this before...it will hurt, and I need to have the strength to protect you.."

"You can take it, Xiao. I know you can." You grab his sides and hover his body over your cock.

"Y- yes, my liege. I apologize." Xiao's voice shakes. He sucks in a breath before you lower him down, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as your tip pushes through his entrance. He tries his hardest to relax as you shove your full length into him, stretching out his virgin cunt.

Your cock twitches in excitement. "Shit, you feel better than Zhongli."

Xiao struggles to adjust to the foreign feeling, breaking out into uncontrolled sobs. He looks gorgeous with his tummy bulging, he's so small..

“Look at how deep I am inside you, sweetheart.” You make Xiao look at his stomach. He frowns, crying harder. You gently grab his cheeks with one hand and lift his face up. "You're even cuter when you cry." You say before bringing him into a kiss. You rub circles around his clit to make him more comfortable. Xiao whimpers and moans into your mouth, subconsciously moving his hips as you bring him pleasure. He's extremely inexperienced but he tries his best to kiss you back. He hates this but he wants to make you happy. You pull away and look at Xiao's embarrassed expression.

"Was it bad..?" He asks in between sniffles. He’s worried he disappointed you with his bad kissing skills.

"Of course not.." You kiss his wet cheek. "Do you want to make me feel good?"

Xiao nods and tries wiping his tears in an attempt to stop crying but they just keep flowing. You take his hands and place them on your shoulders. “Hold onto me and lift yourself up.”

He squeezes your shoulders and raises himself up while shaking.

“Now bring yourself down.”

Xiao sinks down onto your length, a soft whine leaving his trembling lips.

“Good boy, keep doing that.”

He buries his head in your shoulder, sobbing heavily as he attempts to ride you. You don't do anything to comfort him and let him cry his heart out.

“It hu- hurts-” He whimpers. “It hurts so much-” His strong facade crumbles to pieces.

“You’re doing so well, baby…doing so well for me.” You reassure him.

“Please…please help..” His body aches from crying so hard. He feels humiliated, he’s supposed to be strong and able to withstand pain but he can't handle it. He can't handle you.

“Aw, you’re too cute.” You place your hands on his small waist and take over, raising his body before slamming him down. His eyes roll back as you use his body like a fleshlight. He can just barely stay conscious.

Xiao sobs as you fuck him, overwhelmed by an intense mix of feelings. Humiliation, pain, and…pleasure. It feels…good? Xiao’s eyes widen. No, it feels amazing. He arches his back and comes, squirting like a fountain.

You pull him off you despite the very strong urge to keep fucking him. You don't want to overstimulate him, it’d be hard to explain why you had to carry your own guard home. Xiao looks at you with a dazed expression.

“You did so well, my knight.” You have him sit on your lap. You caress his cheek and he leans into your touch.

You give him time to recover before helping him get dressed. Your boner eventually went down and you never got to come but Xiao’ll make up for it next time.

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[bonbonly]

pairing: charles leclerc x teamstrategist!reader; tw: fingering, cunnilingus, a twinge of degradation, p in v charles leclerc hated his team strategist more than he hated losing races. oh wait. he hated losing because of his team strategist. if the last one was bad, then the young girl who volunteered to help her rich daddy surely wasn't any better. people paraded you around like you were the second coming of the lord, as if you would save ferrari by yourself.

a few races in showed the public a few things: you were cheerful and bright, really sweet to the race engineers, and also had good strategies that only seemed to benefit everyone but charles. carlos had a few extra wins and podiums than charles, and the latter's blood boiled at the thought. he slunked off to a corner, eyeing the garage carefully when his focus landed on you. a ferrari jacket too big for you, laughter echoing so loud that your body shook with each laugh, lips parted into a wide grin. he really hated you, hated that you were still so happy even when he was losing.

"sometimes the better driver wins, that's how it happens, Mr. Leclerc," you chastised him with a side eye during a team meeting once, and that was enough for him. you wanted to play dirty and try to ruin his races? oh he could play along just fine.

he couldn't bring himself to disobey team orders, so he figured the only way to properly go about this was to change your mind instead. and that he did when he noticed you in the club, scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

"getting bored?" charles asked.

"no, just looking at some notes i wrote for next week's race." you responded.

"as if that helps at all," charles grumbled, rolling his eyes. you scowled at him, shooing him away with your hand,

"don't blame your incompetence on me."

"Do you think I'm incompetent, am I?" he asked you when he had managed to pin you against a wall in his house, fingers curling inside you as you gripped onto his arms, "i want words, now."

"n-no, i d-don't," you whimpered, wondering why you even bothered to come home with him. oh that was right, you wanted him to fuck your brains out. you came around his fingers with a cry, chest heaving as you gasped for air. in one swift motion, he carried you over to the couch, palming your tits through your tight minidress that left little to the imagination in the first place. with a growl, he tore off your clothes and spread your legs, immediately wrapping his lips against your oversensitive cunny with the intention of making you a babbling mess.

"you taste so good," his accent rumbled against your core, causing you to moan out loud, hips bucking into his mouth. he let out a soft chuckle, letting his tongue explore the insides of your cunt, slurping up your juices, "i thought your stuck up ass would never let this happen.""i wouldn't," you breathed out, throwing your head back, "this is only for tonight."

he kissed the insides of your thighs before letting his tongue rake over your puffy cunt once more, the gummy walls welcoming his tongue even though you swore you couldn't handle another orgasm, "maybe you're better off being my little slut instead of my team strategist, you're only good for this anyway."

his tongue darted in and out of you, a thumb coming around your waist to circle your clit. and before you knew it, you were coming for a second time, tears streaming down your face with how good he felt. with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, he licked his lips to savor your juices once more before unbuckling his belt. he grabbed onto your ankles and pulled you closer to him, chuckling at the way you squealed in shock,

"i think i deserve to cum at least once right? you can't make me win, you might as well do one fucking thing right tonight," he chuckled, watching your face contort in pleasure when he finally sank his painfully hard cock inside you. and charles did end up winning the next race, a proud smile on his knowing face as he glanced to see you limping around the garage, avoiding everyone's eyes to not reveal what happened last night. he bit his lip, hoping to reward you for your good work today.

[mercy-burning]

Christmas Miracles

Mercy’s Ficmas 2024 | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer aims to comfort you after a rather explosive breakup with your boyfriend during your Christmas party. Category: Fluff Content: Yelling, sad Reader, drunk Penelope (she's my fav, what can I say), a mistletoe kiss, Spencer is a yearner (he is also my fav, what can I say) Word Count: 2.6k

The first day of Ficmas has arrived! I'm starting you off strong with some short 'n sweet fluffy pining goodness <3 (who am I lmao)

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

It's not uncommon for the holidays to be a lonely, depressing time for some. It's covered up in ribbons and bows and sparkling lights, but really, under the surface can lie a lot of darkness.

Spencer can see that in you— Not just this holiday season, though it's apparent now more than ever just how unhappy and exhausted you seem. When you're at work day after day, constantly thinking about and putting away criminals, and even then you seem more happy than you do when you're around your significant other, that's when there's a problem. And surely you must know how your friends have noticed... There's no way you couldn't have; It's practically all of your jobs to notice.

Still, you don't say or change anything about it.

He knows it isn't his place, but Spencer wonders why. His heart breaks for you, each and every time the jet touches down and your eyes darken with the realization that you're one step closer to going home. Home should be an escape from work, and not the other way around. Many times he's even offered to go somewhere with you as a distraction, a silent confession that screams, "I know you're not happy, but it doesn't have to be that way. You don't deserve to feel that way. And I'm here for you." Sometimes you agree and tag along, sometimes you don't. Every time, Spencer wishes you could see yourself the same way he and everyone else does.

And more than anything, he wishes that asshole of a man that calls himself your boyfriend would fall off the face of the Earth. In fact, "asshole" is too tame of a word to describe him, and "man" way too kind.

Much is apparent as the muffled argument rings high and dims the twinkling atmosphere of your apartment. The lights on your Christmas tree flicker in and out like they know that something is inherently wrong, like they're dying out and being suffocated by the thick tension.

Spencer's heartbeat flickers right alongside them, his gut twisting as your hurt and angry words cut through, sharp as a knife.

Finally, Derek's voice offers a bit of distraction, though not a very good one. "So, when are you going to swoop in and save the day?"

He winces. "She doesn't want my help. I already do what I can, but... It's best to let her handle it the way she wants to."

"Seriously? She's having a miserable time at her own Christmas party because of that dickwad, and you and I both know damn well that you're the only one who's gonna be able to help her out of it."

This time, your boyfriend raises his voice, cutting you off and making Spencer jump. He looks at the ground and continues the conversation with Morgan to try and distract himself. "I'll do what I can, but I'm not..."

He can't think of the right words, though Morgan seems to get the sentiment; He playfully nudges him with his elbow. "Why not? It's not exactly a big secret that you're in love with her or anything. And besides, we all know you'd treat her a thousand times better than—"

"It doesn't matter, okay? I'm not going do anything like that; I mean, they haven't even technically broken up, anyway, so... No."

Morgan sighs, and JJ offers a thought— how the last thing a woman wants after a fight with a man is another man to swoop in and try to whisk her away, no matter how good his intentions are. Morgan explains in turn that he's not actually suggesting any flat-out advances, and in a matter of minutes, the entire BAU ends up in a discussion weighing Spencer's options.

And then, the musing amongst the group comes to a close, but only at the screeching sound of your voice.

"You know what? Then you can leave!"

There's a collective gasp, a holding of breaths and clutching of champagne glasses in anticipation of the end, which comes crashing in with a resounding and cathartic, "And don't you ever come back! We're through! I never want to see your stupid face ever again!"

The door slams, and an immediate hushed chorus of cheers is not far behind. Morgan firmly pats Spencer's shoulder, as Rossi raises his glass and muses, "It's a Christmas miracle."

The real miracle, Spencer thinks, is you; even as your spirit waltzes back into the living area in pieces. Easily the most bright and beautiful soul he's ever known, it nearly crushes him to know how awful you probably feel in that moment, for something that isn't even your fault. He sympathizes, but more than anything he wants to reassure you that nothing could ever deter his steadfast belief in the simple fact that you are the only miracle one could ever need.

Penelope rushes to your side and embraces you in a warm hug, to which you drop your gaze to your feet.

"I'm sorry... I ruined your night."

"My dear, you've ruined absolutely nothing," Rossi offers gently.

His words elicit a sniffle from you, and then you're turning your head into Penelope's shoulder, hiding your face and slumping full-force into her arms. JJ and Emily rush over and pile on in a group hug, handing their drinks to Hotch. He's stayed verbally neutral over the situation, but Spencer can see the relief and hope resting in his expression as your grief slowly dissipates. A Christmas miracle, indeed, his smile seems to say.

The lights on the tree seem to brighten at the breath of fresh, unwavering life in the atmosphere that feels very much like love. A proper family. A support system. A warmth.

Spencer feels that warmth vibrantly in his fingertips— Even hours later in the cold, out on your balcony as he mindlessly observes the city below, every sharp breath of December air filling his lungs in slow, steady cycles. New snow isn't falling, but the streets are glittering with what's already there, every speeding headlight making the ground dance below him.

He wishes it were more quiet; something about the eerie silence of winter and the unexplainable feeling that somehow it might heal something within himself. Everything is always so loud, even as he closes his eyes to drift off into sleep. There's always some sort of man-made noise going on, whether it be a fan, or traffic outside his window, or even the quiet rustling of Hotch's paperwork on the way home from a case. For once, he thinks, it might be nice to drift off with nothing but the winter wind carrying him to sleep.

For now, though, he settles for car engines and crunching snow and the muffled bellows of joy beyond your patio door.

The joy crescendos for a moment, and Spencer turns his head to catch your glowing silhouette emerging from the door. The warmth he feels only pulses, hotter and brighter than before.

"There you are," you exclaim softly, stepping outside and closing the door. "Aren't you freezing out here?"

"Not really," he muses.

You take stance beside him, crossing your arms and overlooking the streets just as he'd been doing moments before. A soft smile ghosts over your lips, and on a breath out, your shoulders relax. "Great view, huh?"

"It is," Spencer confirms. "It's certainly better than the buildings I get to look at."

The laugh that escapes you in a cloud of visible air is quite possibly the most beautiful sound to him, especially when it's because of something he said. If he could indulge in the pleasure of making you laugh for the rest of his life, he would take the chance in a heartbeat.

"Well, then you're welcome on my balcony any time."

"Thank you," he says, trying not to give himself away as he feels the butterflies creeping their way in. With a nervous smile, he clutches his scarf. "I'll hold you to it. It's a nice balcony."

He kicks himself for that last part, inwardly cursing his inability to filter out the awkward, unnecessary sentences. He could keep talking and make it worse, but he ultimately decides that scrunching his nose in shame and passing it off as being chilled is the better choice. If you notice, you don't let on.

Taking that as a good sign, Spencer tries to relax. He breathes out, and you turn to him. "Are you... having a good time tonight?"

"Of course I am," he answers, perhaps a little too quickly. "I mean, you throw a great party."

You laugh again. This time the sound huffs out of you with a resounding sadness that cracks his heart once more. "It's not anything, really— just some lights, music, and drinks... But thank you anyway."

Before he has time to think better of it, Spencer calls you out by name, quick to defend you. But then he pauses, unsure of what else to say. He doesn't want to bring up your breakup and make you feel worse, but... what else can he do? The only thing that feels right is the need to remind you how inherently good you are.

So, that's what he does.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short. I... We all love you and we're glad to be with you, regardless of how... grand it is. Just being yourself is grand enough. You don't even need the lights or the drinks, or... him. You're better than all of those things combined."

At first you look pained, the mention of your ex-boyfriend exacting immense pressure on a fresh bruise, and Spencer almost regrets it— almost; Your features soften moments later as his words settle in and seem to melt away the pain, revealing a layer of disbelief and confusion. And then, softness.

Your lip trembles as you struggle to speak. "You don't... have to... say that."

"Yes. I do." As firmly as he possibly can while still being gentle, he reaches out and clutches your hands with his own. He hopes that whatever warmth he has immediately draws itself to you and wakes you up. He wills it to comfort you and make you see—make you feel. His fingers are desperate in their pursuit to love you, their grip unwavering and brimming with hope.

When your eyes meet his, he nearly collapses. There's so much love and relief and bewilderment sparkling in them that he suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to get lost in their depths—to explore and study each emotion until he knows every aspect of you. He almost forgets how to speak for a moment, his mouth dry and the concept of what he wants to tell you being clear as day, reflected in your eyes, as the words themselves slowly become less tangible.

All he can manage to say is the simple, unabashed truth. The love he has for you rests perfectly within those three words, anyway. They ring out and linger in the December air, floating softly around you like a feather, until it lands on your nose and wakes you up from your deep, dark reverie, releasing you into the light once again.

"You're utterly remarkable."

You clutch onto his hands like you've just been pulled from a frozen lake, grasping for any semblance of stability, and he's right there to guide you as you draw yourself closer to him. His heart beats loud and fast as you sigh out and smile, tears welling in your glimmering eyes.

"Thank you, Spencer," you breathe out sincerely in a broken whisper.

He smiles back at you, a weight lifting from his chest as he tells you, "Of course." As if it's the most natural thing in the world to express how wonderful you are.

A sudden burst of energy comes sweeping across the balcony as a loud, bellowing voice makes an expression of their own. It's Penelope, giggling and bubbly as ever.

"Hey! You two! It's present time! Get your pretty faces in here pronto!"

She's gone as quickly as she had appeared, leaving the door open a crack as you laugh and drag Spencer by the hand to follow.

He's grateful for the shift in activity, unsure how much longer he could have been out there alone with you before he said something he regretted. Not that he'd been looking for anything theatrical by any means, but in truth, the entire evening feels like it had been a movie, wrapped up in a neat little bow as the two of you cross the threshold into the rolling credits. The rest of his feelings he could deal with tomorrow, but for now, he's satisfied with this conclusion.

You stop as you approach the door, huffing a short laugh.

"What is it?" Spencer asks as you let go of him and turn around, plucking something from the panel of wood. From your delicate finger hangs a bundle of mistletoe. It sways gently in the wind before you clutch it in the palm of your hand.

"I always come out here after a fight... Guess I figured he might try to make it up to me or something... Like I knew he was going to let me down again..."

The words are sad, but your tone drips with amusement, or something close to it. You feel the plant in your hand, looking down at it and then back at Spencer.

His body freezes under your gaze, the implications sending him into a numbing warmth that both pleases and scares him in equal measure.

"You never let me down," you continue, stepping closer and interlocking his hand with yours, the mistletoe trapped in between. "I want to thank you for that."

Your face leans in, and at this point his heart is beating so loudly he can hear it drowning everything else out. He can barely hear himself stutter out, "It's not a problem, really... And I know you just got out of a relationship, so... You don't have to..."

"Yes. I do."

You kiss his cheek, firmly and quickly, and yet you don't fully retreat. Your lips linger near his jawline, and you squeeze his hand and whisper, "Thank you," against his skin.

He can feel the words worming their way into his pores and leaving trickles of static in their wake, spreading through him like lightning. Their sincerity moves him, and drives home your miraculousness with such force that he can't help but tilt his head down and capture the lips that uttered them in a swift, soft kiss of his own.

You press yourself into him effortlessly, a gesture that makes him wish he had the ability to stop time and keep it trapped in the palm of his hand and yours, like the mistletoe. He could spend forever in this moment if he were granted it.

But alas, time cannot be stopped, and neither can Penelope Garcia.

She bangs on the door and yells impatiently again. "Presents!"

You and Spencer break away in a collective laugh. He feels lightheaded and lovesick, every nerve ending alight with your essence.

"Okay, okay!" you yell over your shoulder, removing yourself from him completely this time and taking the mistletoe with you. You shove it in his coat pocket with an adorable scrunch of the nose and shuffle inside.

The moment you're out of sight, pulled back into the party and leaving him alone on the balcony to follow, he finally breathes out. And the slow inevitable smile that break out over his face feels bright enough to light the entire city.

The mistletoe hums vibrantly in his pocket through the rest of the night—his very own tangible reminder of a miracle; That time, for one brief moment, could stand still.

[mclqren]

SPORTING SECRETS ★ CL16

PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!footballer!reader

SUMMARY ✦ you are a famous footballer & you have been dating charles in secret for some time, but your fans start to piece together the clues when they spot him at one of your matches [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ reader plays for the arsenal women's team. the fc i've used is alessia russo, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

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liked by leahwilliamsonn, bethmead_, and 214,990 others

yourusername match ready for this weekend ❤️

view all comments

user1 i literally aspire to be like you when i get older

user2 she does it againnn!!

user3 london is RED ❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

bethmead_ my girllll 💘

yourusername love youu!!

user4 i look up to her sm

user5 sameee!!

user6 HOW IS SHE SINGLE STILLL

user7 literally NO CLUE HOW

charles_leclerc

( caption one: guess where i am 😍 | caption two: london 🇬🇧 )

liked by kimlittle1990, charles_leclerc, and 252,111 others

yourusername walking back after a victory this weekend:

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user12 LETS FUCKING GOOO

user13 KNEW YOU COULD DO ITTT!!

leahwilliamsonn ❤️❤️

yourusername foreverrrr! ❤️

user14 is no one going to talk about how CHARLES LECLERC is in her likes??

user15 i swear he's been following her for a while, though?

user16 yup!! but this is the first time they're actually interacting with each other on the internet

liked by bethmead_, charles_leclerc, and 292,400 others

yourusername best end to the weekend!! ft millie 💘

view all comments

user17 MILLIE IS BACKKKK!!

user18 ugh y/n is such a cutie i can't

user19 OKAY BUT WHO IS THAT GUYYY??

user20 Y/N HAS A MAN??

user21 i'm kindaaa surprised but not really bc LOOK AT HER

bethmead_ so who's the man that's replaced me

yourusername shhh look away ❤️

charles_leclerc millieee!!

yourusername my fav 💘

user22 THE COMMENT FROM CHARLES HELLO?

user23 my two worlds colliding is this a fever dream.

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,101,767 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc my y/n - aka the best footballer i've ever met (other than myself, of course) i'm so happy we can finally share our love with the rest of the world. forever and always, i love you ❤️

view all comments

user25 WHERE IS THAT GIRL ON TWITTER BC SHE MUST BE PUNCHING THE AIR RN.

user26 SOMEONE GIVE HER A MEDAL

user27 AHHH SHES SO CUTE!!

user28 NEW PARENTS UNLOCKED

user29 wait can someone tell me who she is??

user30 y/n l/n!! she's a footballer for the arsenal wfc and she's sooo fucking perfect!

user29 ahh!! she's so gorgeous! 💗💗

yourusername the way you posted this without my permission is crazyyy...

charles_leclerc had to let the world know at some point 😘

yourusername i love you tooo! (the caption abt you being better is def a lie but okay!)

charles_leclerc excuse me i dominated the game??

yourusername how - by falling flat on ur ass??

user30 OKAY THEIR DYNAMIC>>>

liked by charles_leclerc, bethmead_, and 401,928 others

tagged charles_leclerc

yourusername charlieee my love!! thank you so much for supporting me for just over a year (crazy how no one managed to clock us for it until now), you mean so so much to me! p.s. if you ever want to say ur better than me at football, take a look at the last pic. you're welcome. 😊😊

view all comments

user31 STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK US SO LONG TO FIGURE OUT

user32 FR like we're meant to be so diligent??

user33 AW MY HEARTTT

user34 icl him in that first pic>>> WOW

bethmead_ still can't believe you replaced me :(

yourusername no one could ever replace you, come over rn 😘

bethmead_ omw!!

charles_leclerc i love you

yourusername LOVE YOU MORE

user35 my heart can't handle this sedate me now.

charles_leclerc WHY THE LAST PIC

yourusername i get to insult you every once in a while 💘

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[mari-lair]

Let's talk about after-school chapter 28!

I had assumed this interaction was what made Teru, our king of pettiness, go "You know what? I think I won't exorcise your evil spirit problem. Perish."

But?? Akane already had stiff shoulders at the start of their talk?? And Akane waited until it was near the end of their student council time to brag about his 'date' with Aoi.

Meaning Teru just let Akane carry the embodiment of stress and hatred on his back during their entire student council time??

I can't fathom why? This was not an 'I trust Akane to handle it' case, not when Teru was the one who enchanted his glasses so he know better than anyone how vulnerable to supernatural Akane becomes with it, and telling myself Teru needed to wait for the supernatural to feed on Akane to grow when this guy is a pro exorcist also feels like an excuse.

Maybeeee Teru was morbidly curious as to how Akane would fight the feeling?

Speculations on the insane decision to let Akane be haunted aside, their conversation is a trainwreck, shout out to how Teru instinct upon hearing Akane got a date is that his buddy is hallucinating.

I get his skepticism tho, pre-severance Akane you are... A lot.

"I love the part of her that invites me to go shopping" Akane, my dear, you need help. I know you're being honest but please find a less awkward way to be a lovesick fool. (---> I say, knowing full well he'll need to go through a traumatic feelies talkies section in Death's house first)

"cya!" is just cute to me. Look at this smug ill-informed dumbass.

"Hey, the flowers behind aoi are different this time," I think in surprise, even tho realistically Akane must associate Aoi with the entire garden at this point.

And here comes the professional thrid well, the prince himself! His mere presence means Teru actually fell for Akane calling the shopping trip a date though, he gives Akane too much credit.

Teru knowing Akane well enough to translate his stammers of a pathetic creature into "Why are you here?" is beautiful, bro is better at his side gig (pester akane) than his main job (be an exorcist) today.

Aoi's "I know a liar when I see one. let's indulge him anyways" she truly is a kind soul.

Speaking of said liar, I love that Teru doesn't have a basket or shopping cart.

He isn't even trying to pretend he had plans to go shopping, what a guy.

Aoi getting excited over dirt and fertilizer, my girl <3

Shout out to Akane for being happy that Aoi is happy and to Teru for finally figuring out that he doesn't need to sabotage anything cause there is nothing to sabotage.

Teru: *speak*

Akane: and away goes my joy and whimsy.

Love Teru trying to bond with Aoi right after the realization this is a hangout. He wastes no time.

Aoi telling Teru the truth is sweet, I'm glad they are getting closer. Also happy to see Teru remains shameless.

Aoi gave him the driest look possible and Teru still put carrots on her basket. He even said "buy it" SO HE WOULD HAVE MADE HER PAY FOR THE CARROTS.

YES AOI REPRIMAND HIS ASS!

She really treats him like a dog! Is incredible. From her 'grrr' to the way she points a finger at him, it gives me "bad dog! Drop it!" energy.

Fascinated by the way Teru blushes. He seems to be more hung up on being called 'bad' than anything, but he definitively liked being reprimanded, he is still blushing when he walks instead of displaying the dejection of the convenience store.

He doesn't even give up on his quest to make her buy veggies.

Teru, you're doing horrible sweety, keep pestering her and you two will be inseparable in no time <3

Love how Akane snapped out of the curse's first attempt to make him spiral by refusing to be on the same level as Hanako.

He is so arrogant "What am i a loser? A pathetic toilet loser? Nah nah, I am better than that." like damn, okay bro.

I can't believe he pushed back against a curse by the sheer power of self-confidence and determination though, he is built differently. 90% of the characters in this manga cannot relate.

Love how Teru probably didn't suggest a single flower for Aoi to buy, trying to test if he could sneak even one vegetable into her basket, so his closeness to Aoi just made Akane's petunia suggestion look that much more thoughtful in comparison (she does look very happy to be given an actual flower).

Rest in peace Teru you suck at sabotaging.

(Or he would suck if that was the goal! He stuck around for this entire hangout despite how rare his free time is. He got his ice cream, he even walked Aoi home, he just want to hang out. Same vibe as when he went "Oh aoi come with me to the festival, Akane will be there")

I find Teru's zoned-out face so cute.

There is no speech bubble to Terukane's first panel here, but i am 95% sure Teru was the one who asked to be notified about Aoi's gardening progress considering the '...' contrasting Akane's enthusiasm. Love that for him, yes talk to Aoi, get close to this closed off girl.

And Akane didn't like that iuguyguygyui

Teru can always just take off his glasses like Akane never fights that. Good for you.

I am still not over Teru just letting him carry this curse.

But now I really doubt he did it specifically to torture Akane, cause Teru likes helping Akane as much as he enjoys annoying him.

I wonder if he is proud of Akane for not acting on any of the negative feelings he was being fed, cause Teru looks genuinely happy here! It's a far cry from his usual 'bullying you relax me' or 'i am petty' kind of smiles.

...I may be biased but I am throwing my "Teru didn't exorcise the monster for this long to have an excuse to be hanging out with the Aois while tecnically doing his job." idea here. We do get a heavy confirmation he could have done something before and wanted to third wheel after all.

Teru wants to turn this couple into a tricycle so bad. What a guy.

"I hope I didn't act weird" That's an insane thing to think considering how you act near Aoi on the daily bro, you're lucky she is too down bad to mind your madman tendencies.

Peak weirdo to weirdo pining hell.

Speaking of which, she sent him a message to show off the planted flowers! She went out of her way to make sure he saw it, Akane never asked her to update him.

LOOK AT THEEEEEEEEEEM

"Thanks for taking me out today!" says the one who invited him. And 'taking me out'? to the hardware store? I swear I wouldn't even be surprised if she mentally referred to their hang-out as a date too. I love you Aoi.

"As long as Ao-chan had fun, I am happy" l know and I love you.

ps: Their height difference still sparks joy. The smallest girl in the block, the tallest boy in the group, and the perfect middle ground.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Age gap!Bruce is so in love with his wife, I’m sure that he believes she can’t do nothing wrog. Like, he’s the type to brag about how amazing she’s to everybody.

I love your writing and this scenario in particular has me very interested bc I think is so original. Usually, I don’t like age gap bc writers tend to make reader a little childlike or with no personality, but age gap!reader is so unique that I love her so much.

I like to imagine one of Bruce’s exes, like Selina (I’m sorry, but I always remember how she left him at the altar. I love her but my heart breaks for Bruce) comes back to Gotham and everything is kinda awkward bc yes, they have this weird off and on relationship (they haven’t seen each other for more than a year), not string attached but serious at the same time. And suddenly, he’s married to a fucking pop-star and actress??

Even a one night stand seeing Bruce “the playboy” marrying reader.

I can see this with anyone who used to be in love or having feelings either for Bruce or reader. “That should be me” by Justin Bieber will be in their spotify wrapped

I think it was the hard launch of the YEAR. Everyone will be so shocked by it that it becomes an iconic and part of Gotham’s pop culture. They did an interview and suddenly, the next thing they knew?? They got married at a private ceremony where only close family and friends knew.

"This is a stunt even for you, Bruce," Lois scolded tapping her foot. "Honestly-"

Bruce held his hands up, "The only reason it's public now is because we got caught in public. She was perfectly happy to be a private thing."

"Bruce," she scoffed giving him a look, "I know she's an adult but still. You're old enough to be her dad-"

"Not unless I was 16 when she was born," Bruce snorted, "she's the same age Dick is. Damian is 9-"

Lois rolled her eyes and took a seat, "So what did your kids say?"

"Over all, they were fine with it. If not happy about it. But Jason had to make a scene about me dating his childhood crush and betraying him all over again for dramatic effect. And Damian had to lecture me about the security risk."

"Naturally," Lois said smiling. "Jon said Damian had a lot to say about it. That's how we heard about it."

This time it was Bruce's turn to roll his eyes. "Be nice to her-"

"Are you kidding?" Lois asked, slightly incredulous.

"No-"

"Why would I not be? She's Iconic, honestly."

"And better at managing her image than I am," Bruce chuckled.

"Sad, really," Lois observed dryly. "But also impressive."

"No one knows who she dates, where she donates, no one knows her net worth for sure... honestly if she didn't volunteer the information I'm not even sure I'd know her favorite color."

"I'm not surprised," Lois mused, "After watching her get ripped apart a few years ago."

"I don't-"

"You wouldn't," Loid allowed, "You didn't have editors that wanted you to write think pieces about it. And you didn't work in an office that had a betting pool to her inevitable suicide or addiction spiral."

Bruce winced. He didn't remember it. Not directly, but you'd talked about it. It was part of why he agreed to letting you keep things private. You liked keeping things quiet. A separation between your public face and your private one. It fucked you up. And no one protected you. You'd had to handle it alone- Sure, you had your team but that wasn't the same as having PEOPLE to fall back on.

"I'll be nice," Lois assured him, "Just don't be a creep or I'll sic Clark on you later."

[itsafairytalekay]

𝙒𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧.

Anon requested!

Gojo x little sister reader!

Desc: after a battle he reassures you on your efforts.

Warnings: blood, death, light angst, hurt/comfort!

It was epic, it was bloody it was unlike the world has ever seen, but there she was the daughter of the Gojo household, living up to the name, proving that they deserved to be at the top.

She wasn't an adult, she was barely a teen, she looked up to her brother like he was an entity and not human at all. He loved her with all his heart, she was the Apple of his eye. Everyone who were jealous of them tried to break their bond but it was stronger than they thought, they were an unshakable force.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘺𝘦𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

She was sure she got this handled but out of the two, she always had second thoughts about herself although being almost as strong as her brother she always had thoughts that she just couldn't do it, why? She didn't know.

People were screaming at the top of their lungs but she was helping others and fighting a special grade at the same time. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮? 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰? Same reoccurring thoughts in her brain ran like a mantra.

Just as she helped the other people and ran towards the others a big wave came from behind and rendered her completely powerless, she was thrown in the air far away she closed her eyes on instinct but before she could, she saw the people under the rubble 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. She wanted to scream but she couldn't she crashed into a concrete wall and heard something crack, it was her wrist trying to stop her face from banging into the wall.

𝘐𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘪𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺, 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘨- "y/n? " She heard a familiar voice.

"Y/n, where are you cupcake? " He called out, but she didn't wanna face him like this at all, at her lowest.

"Y/n, this isn't funny sunshine" His voice breaking.

"You did your best now c-come out p-please"

"Sunshine, I swear to God I'll-"

"I'm here, Satoru" She called out, her voice rough from all the screaming.

He recognized it in a second and ran towards where the voice came from.

He ran towards her with a smile on his face

𝘔𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘎𝘰𝘥.

He hugged her as soon as he saw her and she winced. He immediately let her go and saw her wrist that looked broken.

"Oh cupcake you are so strong, you fought that curse to the end, he was a scaredy cat fighting a 15 year old, I'm so proud of you. This little boo boo is nothing, you've got better stuff to worry about like where we'll go on vacation to celebrate your first special gr- Are you crying???" He asks, holding your face in his hands.

"What happened, you better tell me these are tears of happiness bubba"

"Hic-hic... Satoru I... Couldn't save those people under the rubble... They got crushed when he released his final wave, i-i thought he was dead. I really tried I couldn't be like you, i-i'm useless I couldn't do even one thing right and they're so injured, ar-are they dead? I can't tell I-I-" He hugs her immediately and pats her head.

"Oh cupcake these were the thoughts you were having?I thought you'd be proud of yourself. For saving so many people and showing that special grade who's boss, you're a Gojo c'mon!"

"See that's the t-thing I am a Gojo and I'm still so useless. "

"Shh shh not a word should come out of that mouth now. "

He holds her face.

"You are amazing, you are strong, no 15 year old is this helpful in a battle against a swarm of curses. You did amazing sunshine"

"I can never be like you, you're the strongest and I didn't, I C-couldn't save even a few sorcerers how will I ever be like you? You defeated a special grade at 15 or 16 I'm sure"

"Who said you have to be like me hmm? Who said that? You're your own amazing person with her own thoughts, her very own strong cursed technique, her own charm, her own personality, her own style of fighting, and the best heart which is my favourite the purest of all, so much that you can't see even a few people injured but you can put your life in danger, break your wrist in battle and I'm sure you were willing to put your life on the line, we can't save everyone and that's a fact, we are human after all, Gojo Or whatever it's human first, always, please don't think of yourself like this all I've wanted in life is for you to not end up like me. You should laugh, play with your friends, go to the arcade which you love so much, saving the world can wait can't it? If it can't your big brother is willing to lose a little sleep and help his precious sister out" As soon as he finishes he looks up to you and sees tears, your was red from tears.

"Oh wait, too cheesy? " He looks a little embarrassed " I know you're a teen now and teens hate cheesy stuff and-"

"I loved it" You hug him suddenly and he falls back from where he was on his knees.

"Bubba this is violence you know? I'm your bigggg brother" But despite the complaining, he's hugging you back.

"Thank you"

"For what cupcake? Being the most amazing handsomest, strongest, coolest big brother ever?"

"Figure it out satoru"

"I remember your friend yapping about how cool and handsome I am tho, I have eviden-"

"You must be daydreaming from shock of battle. "

"One day you'll grow out of your teen phase and realize you love me very much"

"That isn't needed" You say softly.

"Hmm? " He asks again but you know his smug ass heard it and wants to hear it again.

"Hmm what, shut up and carry me home, I'm tired of being the stronger sibling, it's exhausting really."

"Sure sure, hop on cupcake"

He gets up and carries you on his back all the way to the car.

On the way there you cry softly, what would you do if your big brother wasn't there to reassure you? He really is the best.

Comments are appreciated!! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

@cafekitsune dividers🫶🫶🫶

[ncis-nerd]

But Daddy I Love Him

ship: older!natasha romanoff x younger!reader. wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, mentions of cheating, older nat, jerk nat, younger reader, wanda is kinda a dick, age gap, arguing, being ignored.

a/n: happy ttpd day!!

"I'm done with being your second choice Natasha. Just because I am younger than you, it doesn't mean you can just go off with other women because you're scared to admit that they are what you are looking for. Someone older, more mature, someone you can relate to" Y/N exclaimed, her small frame against the older women's.

Her green eyes met y/n's gaze which only confirmed what y/n feared. "That's it? You aren't going to say anything?" Y/N spokes as she grabbed a suitcase from the closet.

"I'm so sick of Wanda! Don't think I didn't see all the ways she touched you. Her hands always on you whenever the two of you were together. I'll tell you this Natasha. I'd rather burn my whole life down, Than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'" Y/N threw her arms up in protest and huffed.

"Where are you gonna go." Natasha spoke dismmisingly. She doesn't think you'll actually do it. You have no where to go, no one to go to. Her eyes watering at the slight chance that you may be serious.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Natasha had an award dinner and she asked you last minute to come. It was odd she didn't ask you earlier in advance because they usually know about these things at least 6 months in advance with scheduling and whatnot. But you didn't think much of it. Because you didn't want to accept the alternative.

You came as her date but it sure didn't feel like it. You were the youngest there, all the avengers were at least 10 years ahead of you. It didn't help that your girlfriend left you to fend for yourself, your eyes stuck on her and Wanda. Natasha threw her head back, laughing. Wanda's hand on her shoulder. Their prolonging eye contact. The way they looked at each other. It gave you a bad feeling in your gut but you pushed it away.

No, I'm not coming to my senses. I know it's crazy. But he's the one I want.

You refused to accept it. She said she'd never let it come between you guys. That your age difference would never break you up. She lied. You rose up from the table but no one even noticed, everyone engrossed in their conversation. A stray tear fell from your glassy eyes.

You made your way to the bathroom. Attempting to keep your composure, they already think you're immature, you don't want them to see you as a baby on top on that.

You looked at yourself in the large glass window. You looked at your reflection. Your dress glistened in the light. The door swings open. It's Wanda. Of course she was the one who noticed you missing. Ironic isn't it.

"Y/N" she spoke, her voice filled with fake concern but a hint of guilt. You refused to meet her eyes, not willing to give her that sense of comfort. "Y/N, I'm not going to lie to you just because you're younger than us. I like Natasha. And honestly it feels like she is into me too. There's nothing I can say to make you feel better but I assure you I would never make a move on her while the two of you are together. I promise." Her eyes met yours in the mirror.

"I have money, I know you don't have anywhere to go but if you and Natasha should split, please call me. I don't want to on your own, fending for yourself. I can help you get an apartment or something." Wanda offered.

I just learned these people try and save you'. Cause they hate you

Of course, of course she wants to "take care of you". Because you're the little fragile thing who can't handle heartbreak. She just wants to make a move on Natasha, this is a ton of bullshit. You press your nails into your hand. You smile politely and say a simple thank you. Not wanting to cause a scene and give Natasha more of a reason to leave you.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me. And counteract the chemistry. And undo the destiny.

Her hand reaches for my shoulder, to stop me from leaving. "That won't work anymore, Natasha. I'm calling Wanda. She offered to help me get an apartment." You spewed out, reaching for the door. It hurt. You no longer called her Natty, the sweet nickname you had gave her when your relationship was in an earlier stage. A simpler stage where you didn't have to question if she wanted to be with you.

You slammed the door behind you, goodbye Natasha.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

[teresalace]

🐸 Prince Naveen x Female Reader (NSFW) 🚩 (smut)

💃Happy marital life after the wedding~

▪︎Words: 2110

▪︎Warnings: Teasing, Cunninglingus, Naveen going down on reader on the dinnertable.

😭💕 Wrote this two weeks ago, I'm getting more comfortable with smut writing. Hope y'all enjoy! This is my second instalment of the 'Disney x reader' series 😁 first was Prince Philip. Please enjoy!

~~~~

Cooking is a part of your love language, anything to do with taking good care of your loved ones never tires you out.

Firmly handling a long wooden spoon, you swirled through a bubbling pot of gumbo, nice and slow in the thick stew. The rich meaty mixed vegetables flavor filled the entire kitchen, every breath you'd take in would be a delicious meal as you hummed a jazz tune to yourself. 

Even from afar, there was a lovely shine on your slightly sweaty skin casted down from the golden crystal lights fixed to the ceiling. Popping your hips out to every few beats of the boiling pot you continuously stirred. Oh, you couldn't wait to eat right after your husband comes back from his music band, dinner always tasted better with a loved one. 

.   .   .

Click. 

Right on time, you heard the soft thud of the front door knob opening and a faint scuffle of shoes being taken off. At that familiar sound, a happy tingly feeling rose from your stomach, not just because you were starting to feel a little peckish but you were looking forward to seeing someone...

A pair of muffled footsteps led towards the kitchen and gave you a lovely surprise.

Hearing a low melodic whistle from behind, you instantly smile and throw back a glance over your shoulder. "Oh you're absolutely glowing, my evangeline. Glowing!" Naveen said enthusiastically, leaning his side against the doorway, his sparkling teeth and wide smile never failing to lift the tiredness within you from a good day's work, his princely presence alone cheering your spirits.

Your lips spread into a loving warm smile as a chuckle rose out of you. "Why thank you, Naveen, you're looking more handsome than usual." And goodness gracious he really was, wearing sleek long pants with that favourite white polo shirt of his, the sleeved clumsily rolled up at the elbows and revealing his firm arms crossed over each other. Emphasizing the muscles there, like he was barely containing himself from springing his arms around you. 

"Of course, of course. It is both a burden and a treat to be as unbelievably handsome as I am~" He eagerly ran a hand through his luscious hair and kept it behind his head, posing unashamedly for your eyes. Never failing to reel chuckles and laughter out of you, anytime and any day.

“Uh huh, right. It must be so hard for you, baby.”

He nodded in an exaggerating fashion. "It IS very hard to have a beautiful person such as yourself by my side…” His eyes shut as he loudly breathed in the air, pausing dramatically. “Mmmmm, it smells delicious… Absolutely divine." His eyes reopened and stayed on you like a target, hardly sparing a glance to your side where the stew you cooked was. "Why don't we get comfortable and…” 

“-And miss out on dinner? Naveen, we best keep our stomachs full before anything else.” You lightly said, a scolding tone as you shook your head for good measure at his teasing expression. 

Putting down the wooden spoon on a plate, you heard a deep, almost mischievous chuckle. 

"Oh, I know a way to get full…" 

As if he couldn't wait any longer, Naveen gleefully leapt and wrapped his strong arms around you, lifting you off your feet with little effort as you yelped being brought out of the kitchen, his grip slightly crushing your breasts and you grumbled when your toes barely grazed the ground. 

Like a floating water lily unable to move as easily against rippling water, you felt like you were floating as he carried you onto the dining table. 

"Naveen–" Before any protest could come out of your mouth, his lips mashed into yours and sent your body an explosion of tingles to course through.

Not wanting to fall, you had your hands propped behind you on the table surface and continued the harmonic kiss as his warm firm hands fondled the fleshiness of your thighs for his own pleasure. Inching higher and higher towards your hips, massaging gently as his hands dipped underneath the elastics of your underwear and tugged downwards.

Any and all protest disappeared from your mind when a breeze flowed by as your underwear was gone, and you heard a slip of fabric followed by an undone belt falling to the floor. 

"I've been looking forward to this meal, princess." His mouth latched to the sensitive nub, with little pressure at first while his fingers rubbed and probed around your vulva in lazy circles to get you worked up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer for better pleasure.

And it was working.

Round and round your labia, working up a slow rhythm that build up a delicious heat in your tightening core, but his chuckles added a cherry on top vibration onto that

It didn't take long with the help of his fingertips, like the skilled musician that he is, played you like a fiddle to spur on your release, your tensed thighs relaxing around his head, an audible sigh of relief letting out from you.

Wow…

"So, how was it, (Name)?" 

A slightly sweatier Naveen smirked sweetly up at you, breathing a little heavier, his long tongue running over his glistening wet lips in a smug fashion as if he was savoring your taste and to get a reaction out of you.  

You wheezed out an answer with a dazed smile, weakly rolling your eyes at his display, trying to glance down to his handsome face in a pearly sheen from the sweat. 

"Very… Very satisfied." 

That would be enough for a long while until the next time you'll make love with him.

"Then I'm about to do it again," his happy response was swift like his readied tongue when he dove back down in between your thighs, to your dripping entrance, continuing his expert strokes and rapid flicks on your vulva. 

Hardly appearing to be exhausted though you were sure his jaw would've been sore and aching now as his flicking tongue twisted and turned in so many different angles you never knew was possible, worked another explosive orgasm out of you. 

 Your curling toes, calves tensed as he never stopped his tired tongue from lapping up your juices. 

"Ah. I-I already came," half-mewls kept slipping from your lips. "You can rest," you breathed hard and heavy and called out to the head deep in-between your thighs, your fingers interlaced with his dark locks of hair tugging a little to get his attention. "Naveen!"

"I'll stop once you've begged for more~" Now that isn’t fair, that logic of his never helps you at all and he knows that! What a greedy prince.

"Please, don't give me more," you gasped at his sped up tonguing, like adding firewood to a burning furnace. He kept firing you up.

"Naveen! I won't kiss you today if you don't take a break," you grumbled a warning, sweating like rain, meaning every word you said.

Hearing you, he paused, cool puffs of breath closely fanning over your slit and making you twitch but giving you a chance to take in a proper deep breath. 

"Fine by me, princess– I'll just kiss your other lips, they look more lonely." The pounding in your chest intensified as your hands clenched onto the table edge, mentally you weren't prepared for his determination in peppering you in ravenous affection.

His tongue resumed drawing all over your intimates, specially licking up any essence of your obvious arousal glistening under the chandelier lights like a pearl.

"From my glorious time being a frog, I have learned to never underestimate what nature can teach you." He added before lowering his entire face down, your hips involuntarily jolting at feeling the sudden pleasures multiplying the second his lips began to kiss your very clit, no doubt swollen from his previous workings.

Almost making you feel jealous of your own…. Self. 

Then came his tongue. Oh gosh, his tongue! 

It penetrated your stickiness, lava hot, made you squirm involuntarily on the edge of the dinner table. Twisting and turning inside of you skillfully, inch by inch, scissoring you while his fingers prodded around your labia teasingly like he didn't know what to do.

Pleasurable torture is the only way you could describe it as you breathed in through gritted teeth, eyes barely focusing on the chandelier above, your shaky hand pulling onto a tuff of his hair gently.

Every time you even tried to move away from his tongue, his other hand slipped around your waist and secured you in place while his silken tongue kept dancing along your inner walls, his soft lips brushing against your lower ones.

He was french kissing you in another way, gosh. And you were so weak to him.

Finally, your whole body froze and shuddered as you climaxed, locking Naveen's face against your slick for a few seconds until your limbs slackened. 

A quiet gasp for air came from below you before a small burst of laughter came.

Both of you needed a moment to breathe deeply, your face flushed in a light sheen of sweat, which was laughable in comparison to Naveen's overly pleased smirk as he rose to his feet, his chest equally as heaving as yours. 

Another comfortable moment passed by.

I… really appreciated it. You didn't have to do this so soon, Naveen…" You caressed his cheek, your thumb gently rubbing his cheekbone, watching the warm dark skin turn shades darker beneath... And your wetness shining around his mouth.

He smiled in full satisfaction and leaned into your touch, his blushing never gets old, you knew he really was a sucker for compliments especially from you. "But I really enjoyed it, thank you, honey."

"Oh believe me, it was my pleasure, darling." Yeah you believed him, a certain hard poke at your thigh from below his waistband reminded you that it's going to be your turn to satisfy him.

"Well, It's about time I give you a reward," you smiled wide teasingly, slowly unbuttoning your shirt underneath the apron, his eyes sparkled, you could almost hear his anticipating excitement, following every inch of exposed skin before your apron blocked him. "But first, dinner. I made some good o' gumbo, and we should eat it while it's piping hot." You said smoothly, pushing yourself off the table and stabilizing on wobbly legs.

Naveen laughed out hard and rubbed his belly, joking. "I think I've already eaten plenty—" Oh the gull on this man.

"—Oh no you don't, fun comes later, I will not let you be with an empty stomach no matter how 'full' you say you are. Now come on, honey." You gently cut him off with reddened cheeks, shaking your head in disapproval at him. "There will be no skipping dinner while I'm here, not on my watch." 

He jokingly rolled his eyes when you placed a hand on his hard chest and lightly pushed him for you so you'd be able to get unstuck between him and the dinning table. 

Smiling, he let you push him to the side as you sauntered into the kitchen, him naturally following you to provide some help in bringing out the plates and utensils to the table. Teamwork always sped things up.

Using two hand towels to grab the hot handles of the still boiling pot, you heaved it onto a pre-prepared thick cloth on the dining table. Naveen already set up the soup bowls for both you and him, large plates and tall glasses for water. All that's left was to bring out the fluffy rice and dinner would be served at last.

Out of nowhere, your husband nervously blurted out as you were about to sit down. "I love you, my princess, I adore you." His glimmering eyes seemed to stare straight into your soul and captured your love all over again.

You paused mid-way and smiled lovingly, "I'd say the same in a heartbeat if I wasn't starving, but I do too. I love you, Naveen." 

And just like that, both you and him leaned in over the dining table and kissed briefly... Which turns into one long smooch, leading to three then the loud rumbling of his stomach interrupted the moment right on cue. He sheepishly grinned, "guess I'd better eat before loving."

"My stomach agrees," you giggled, the powerful smell of the gumbo stew making your mouth salivate, and you weren't the only one, looking at Naveen eyeing the soup across from you. 

Dinner that evening was a lovely overflow of laughter, praises, conversations and much later a lot of fun loving. 

[enviedear]

hey Olivia talk about Jason and love letters pls

i can never say no to you, not like i'd say no to rambling about jason lmao!! link here to what inspired this <3

swing by my askbox 🧸ྀི

basically, i think believe that jason would be not only the best at writing love letters but also the most genuine about it. to him, they come from a place of utter devotion. in my hc, i think he'd just really struggle with getting his words out. he hates the way they sound, that they never fully convey what he means, that he stops himself more than he allows himself to speak, and mostly, he cannot handle the pressure of a time constraint. even if someone were to give him all the time in the world to open up, his chest would still get tight and his throat would feel scratchy and raw. jason todd is a victim of analysis paralysis there i said it.

no—he NEEDS another outlet, another form of communication. so he writes. he always loved reading, annotating in the margins—now he does it to his own words. At first, he doesn't even count what he writes as love letters. he's not waxing poetry, he's just explaining his fucked up perspective because you deserve to know. you deserve to be privy to whatever's going on in his head. he fails (for a while) to understand that is love, the very crux of it. the devotion to spend his free time explaining what his mouth refuses to say is love in its purest form.

his words are sweet too, no matter what he's writing. he knows his audience, you. his letters always start the same, with the salutation of 'sweetheart' and an "i love you." sometimes, all that's written is a long run-on about how he feels, how overwhelmed he is. other times, it's reminders of how much you mean to him, how happy you make him. and of course, quotes.

i am a firm believer that jason todd quotes his favorite books (modern and classic) so you better assume he's throwing in quotes that remind him of you. things like "what does money matter? love is more than money." from dorian grey after you had confessed to feeling bad about him spending money on you, or "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." from emma after an argument rooted in his apprehension for sharing, and "I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes." makes a common appearance. you're unsure as to why he quotes shakespeare so much, especially that line—but he's not. he knows it's the truest cohesion of words he could possibly find to explain to you just how crucial you are to him. detrimental even.

but it's not always super intense—a lot of the times it's simple letters. letters hung up on the fridge, on the dryer, in your car, even scattered little love notes in your purse/wallet. things like, "washed your clothes. you really need new leggings, i put money on the counter." / "changed your oil. remind me again in six months. i love you." / "missed you this morning. i'm coming home with dinner, your favorite. i love you."

where other men fail to find a form of communication that works for them, jason todd exceeds. besides, he's seen death once and he's not meeting it again without you knowing just how much he absolutely adores you. if he can't be here forever to give you the love he's practically overflowing with, at least the letters can outlive him. he'd like to be remembered that way—just by his saccharine sentiments for you

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 @ 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 (𝐦𝐞)