#affordable kids wardrobe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chlmtsdoll · 4 months ago

Text

Guys I loved writing the first short n sweet inspo fic so here’s more bc that ovulation album is too good <3

WHERE ART THOU ? WHY NOT UPONETH ME ?

౨ৎ Summary: your hosting a slumber party at Art’s mansion. But you can’t quite stay away from your pull to get the man in a room where there are no others. Inspo from Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter 🤍

+ 18 | very much smut !, unprotected sex, age gap, (reader early 20’s) dilf!Art, size kink, first daddy kink fic (omg) semi-public sex, oral (f) reviving, pet names, this made me feel a bit slutty just writing it, needy!reader, fatherly Art ;)

A/N: the fucking edits on tiktok of Mike to Bed Chem are making me go insane ! just when I thought there was no possible way for me to be crazier over this man omfg. So I had to give the girls a fic to go w it ofc <3

It was like fate. The day you met him.

Nothing could of been more perfect when the stars aligned to bring you to accompany your solid group of trust fund friends to one of his tournaments that evening. You were like most girls your age, makeup, pop music, nice ornaments for your wardrobe — you weren’t the kind of girl that could say she knew much about sports, and certainly little to nothing to be caught landing a seat at the us open... but eventually that grew to be a substantial part of what found him to be so drawn to you.

It was that day when you’d been in the bleachers watching the blonde play like it was his life’s greatest prophecy. For the first time in your still too little years of living, you’d never felt that aroused by a man you’d only saw from the mere view of him hitting a ball with a racket.

But he was unearthly.

Built like how men used to be. Face like it came straight from heaven. Serve like he knew a thing or two in bed.

You were drunk on want, need for him. You were damn lucky your friends were loaded enough to go to all the after parties with most of the star athletes. It was insane to you that you would follow the vip and your most sports driven friends (enthusiast if you will.) to where the elites spend their time. You wanted a nice hang out. Good food. Expensive drinks. But it was between you and the universe that you’d leave with so much more.

You were in a sheer dress and kitten heels when he spotted you. Just his star studded sly smile from across the event hall, when he saw you and your friends conversing in mostly a pretentious manner like most kids your age did when they could afford the lifestyle most people only dreamed of. But not you, you were entranced, pulled away. By his wide, blue eyes that you assumed filled with the same yearn you’d been struck with. And to your quick manifest, Art was gazing right back at you.

Only sharing a couple brief exchanges with the tall and stature, modest but kindly — beautiful and magnetic man around mutual friends, before you’d both been rushed to leave. Him with his team, and you with your entourage.

Like that you were tied to the tennis star in the blink of a moment. And Soon enough — being photographed with him around the heat of the city.

Games, athlete dinner parties, press events. Even photos of you two sharing more than a couple of words, maybe even kisses, behind menus at glamorous rooftop restaurants. Magazine outlets went crazy through the roof in just a few weeks time. Milking whatever they could out of Art Donaldson and his controversially younger girlfriend.

They didn’t have enough tabs on what you two had officially been to one another and that was perfect for the two of you. Because now that time has pushed you and the blonde closer and more into each other — you’d spend days and nights locked away with Art in his new found mansion post his former divorce. Home so beautifully articulated and big enough for you to be extra generous with your time with the dream boat of a man.

It would go down in history what the two of you had done in every room.

Now, a gorgeous weekend ahead of you after your week that was always filled with Art treating you to the finest cooked dinners, at home date nights filled with breezy smiles and full closeness to balance your dates out on the town. Going wherever you felt just to hold hands under umbrellas and traffic lights. With all the new adorned love in your life, and man with too much mystic taking up your time, it had been a good minute since you saw your girlfriends, caught up or shared a drink. You were just so wound up in Art and the way he treated you like a princess to, and in your own world.

So you’d asked Art if you could host a sweet little sleepover for you and your girls at the mansion — and of course he complied. It was anything for his perfect girl since the beginning.

“I could ask the chef to whip up some,” Art spoke into you as he held your hips in his vast hands running carefully over the hem of your satin bottoms as you stood in the middle of the spacious kitchen with him.

“That’s okay, I wanna do it.” You laughed softly, as you stared up at the man. “Nothing says fun girls night like making our own home made friandises”

Art had tilted his head in slight confusion with eyes in question to your tone when you’d practice what you’d been learning in your French courses on him. It was all the most adorable to you really. Your laugh echoed.

“Treats, baby.”

“I- - I knew that,” He scoffed and your giggles were infectious with delight to him.

“It’s gonna be fun. We’ll watch movies, paint our nails, share snacking tips. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the girls.”

Art grinned at the way you lit up with excitement, and his icy eyes looked down at your figure below him. He tried not to bite down on his lip at the way you were in the pajamas usually he only saw you in. Pink lace two piece jammies. Completely recognized because he got them for you. The transparency to them was way too easy on the eyes.

Arts tongue darted out to wet his lips before he questioned, “Is that what you’re wearing ? There aren’t gonna be any boys.. right ?”

“No, silly. That of course counts out you — if.. you wanna join us.” You looked up at him through your lightly mascara coated lashes, it felt as if the flirtatiousness through your gaze just hooked Art by the belt.

“No, no. I’ll give you and your friends your space, doll.” The blonde gave you a chary little smile, “I really doubt they’d want an old man around while you’re trying to have fun.”

“Quit it ! You’re not old. And they adore you.” You stood on the tips of your toes, Art met you so you could leave a sweet kiss on his cheek, with a blush to your own.

“Thank’s for letting me have this little party, baby.”

“Course, what else would be better use for all this space ? Other than for the amusement of twenty something girls.”

Art chuckled and you surely were in agreement, because when your girlfriends did arrive it was immediately shrieks of girlish camaraderie and chatter of awe as you brought them around the place of posh and eloquent nature. Your laugh could of been heard from the other side of the place where Art had eventually been stored away for the night while your hands were knee deep in cookie dough and rainbow sprinkles. Pj sets all from the brands you and your friends never stopped talking about. Having your night filled with reruns of classic movies to sipping champagne.. and the wine, red, (your pick) was certainly slipping through you as the moments went on.

You’d been with your best friend when you two had a moment alone to catch up in one of the halls of the buoyant abode. Whispers and giggles coming from between the two of you as a glass of wine hung from your palm.

“God, he was a such a cutie.” She coo’d as you two had found a very special wall of framed photos of Art from back in his prime tennis days. The blonde around your age who seemed filled with joyfully energetic faces and awards from across the globe. A smile woke upon your face as you folded your arm to admire the man you’d now call your own.

“Sometimes I wish I’d known him then,” you simpered. “But I’m beyond lucky now. Because he’s still cute, and sexier.”

You tittered fondly and your friend laughed with you as she playfully tugged on your shoulder. “You gotta lock that down, y’know… you’ll be like- - hella famous just from being a world class tennis superstars hot young wife.”

She announced as she sipped on something burgundy and you thought with a heightened grin. She couldn’t have been farther from right. And as the months go by you would fall farther and farther head over heels for Art every day. You’d be his wife in an instant. That was the dream after all, and you could certainly say you’d been living one.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait for him to put a ring on it..” You smiled with a dazed shrug as you embarked your wine glass to your lips again.

“He better.” Your friend chirped with a proud glint and you couldn’t help but stay stuck in your thought of your boyfriend who’s been just a few rooms away for the past couple of hours while you’d been enjoying all the perks of your girls making the most of their time with you. But you couldn’t help but want Art to be nearby now, and the red wine in your system maybe hit more than just your head — you couldn’t even try to fight it.

You missed your man.

So after you’d take in a few more drinks and a bit sensually themed games with your friends, you’d made your attempt escape off to find Art. Slipping away from the girls was easy when you’d have every necessity needed to execute a very graceful grown up girl sleepover provided for them.

You’d been walking down the hall heading to where his office and master bedroom would be at the end of the home, and as you passed by the lush kitchen area, to your surprise, there he was. Muscles looked enchantingly delicious in this light as they flexed to pull on the fridge handle and when he turned, his eye line met your glance staring back his way (of course you’d both arrive at the same time.) Arts lips began to curl in an amours grin when he saw your petite figure making it’s way over to him with the same like of smile across your face.

“Hi, baby. You having fun?” He glanced down at you through his blonde lashes to meet your nod, only following up with a soft titter as you stepped closer to the man. He almost immediately picked up on the lust laced within your eye and the way you slightly leaned onto the fridge door with your aura basically gooing with sex at him now. The blonde had an eyebrow furrowed as he chuckled just a bit and he sized you up.

“Are you drunk, princess?”

“No. No… no,” you shook your head.

It had been true. You weren’t drunk. But a little wine tipsy and horny ? Definitely.

Art hummed and put the back of his hand to your forehead gently as he observed your state. “Did you eat?”

“Mhm, did you ?”

“No. That’s why I came down, not to stalk you. I promise.” The man laughed, to which you did as well and you only raised your arms so they could embrace your boyfriend’s shoulders with a soft hum.

“Y’know, if you’re hungry, you can eat me.” Your finger tips grace Arts neck unashamed as you smile into the crook, and he took in a breath, proceeding to hold you close.

“Oh- -” his chuckle matched your giggle as he noticed you’d changed again. His hands were gliding up the ruffle of the even more transparent sheer cover on you’d been dressed in. Lime tinted. The shorts were near pantie like.

“Mmm, I miss you, I want you.” You peppered kisses as close as you could to his earlobe from your height and Arts breath hitched as he was weak to your slow but enticing touch to him. Fogging up his knowledge that you’d been right in the middle of the open kitchen that was just a few ways down from the living area your friends had been in.

“Here, sweetness ? Your friends- -” Art murmurs down to your ear, but you just locked your arms just above his shoulders without a care.

“And- - ? What about them ? I need you,” you whined. “I want your touch.”

“Yeah? You want me to touch you?”

You nodded again with a naughty giggle and the blonde was smirking now, his hands roamed your body. Large and groping your curves. As much as he knew what was rightful, Art just couldn’t deny your cling to him in that damn near lingerie that had him going almost unbearably hard beneath his jeans since you walked in. Feral even. It was beginning to get miserable as you pressed your dainty chest against his, he felt your nipples grow hard and sensitive against the cloth. So into his aroma, presence, like you were a moth to a torch.

He’d fallen into your pecks merging with his now. Kissing you against where the cupboards stand like your lips were candy. Your small legs stumbling as the man towered over you “Fuck, you look amazing in that set.” Art pulled away from your plump lips to view your gorgeously perfect body. You batted your lashes once. And his attain just couldn’t be stopped. Art slid his hands across your soft ass cheeks, massaging and kneading it in his palms before leading up to laying a solid smack which made you hiss out an excited squeal-like giggle. Your fingertips slid down his ample biceps brushed with virile bristles of hair.

“If I had known you’d like this set so much, I would of worn it much sooner for you.”

Art leaned into you and he held a sly smirk, “this was your plan all along, yeah? Wearing that to get my attention so I would come out here and fuck you in the middle of your slumber party.. you’re such a naughty girl.”

You only giggled more into his skin with a slow exhale, your freshly painted french tips exploring him as he explored you. Art took his sweet time just feeling the way your ass jiggled in his palms and you felt like you’d been going weak in the knees before his tender contact turned rough when he turned you around without warning, making you gasp.

Art made sure you could feel how hard you’d gotten him as he pressed himself to your core. Facing the counter, you lost yourself in complete bliss just to the feeling of not knowing where he’d pleasure you next — Arts restrained bulge against your clothed cunt was just something else. The blonde pushed up your sheer top just a bit and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, you made a soft noise with it.

“Feel what you do to me, pretty girl.” Art nibbled on your earlobe and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to subtle your smile. His hands bracing your hips as he stared down at your lacy panties and your minx-like eyes followed Arts famished expression while he licked his bottom lip.

“All yours, daddy.” Your sweet voice immediately made Art go nearly lightheaded and that was it. He melted.

The man tucked both his thumbs into the fabric and pulled your panties down clean with raucousness, followed up with him getting down on his knees before spreading you with his palms and your hands reached for the marble with a soft whimper.

“That’a girl, stay open for me.. Let me taste you.” Art huffed out before he pushed one of your legs up on the counter and you breathed out at the feeling of him making your body his toy for amusement. Art took his fingers and ran them up your folds, getting them wet with the slick of your pussy. Your cheeks started to heat up just at the wonderful pad of his index running against your core like that , making you let out a soft, “oh..” by the way he moved to rub around your clit. Arts lips kissed on your exposed inner thighs, and your jaw became unlocked extraordinarily far when his tongue finally rolled on the soft tissue.

He was splitting you clean open on the counter as tiny whimpers escaped your throat. You were lost in the draw you had to the man making you feel surpassing of even the way you played it all out in your head. “Mmm, yeah- - yes” you panted and the man flicked his digit over your bud at the same time he’d been making out with your cunt. Letting deep groans flow throughout your opening. You’d been on the tip of your toes for him. Letting him suck where you pulsed till you’d been overstimulated if he wanted.

Your head had been spinning from the friction of his perfectly sculpted nose rubbing against your sensitive area. Art was known to be gifted with his mouth so much so, you almost wondered if your friends would have heard if you just couldn’t keep your moans level — but with the way Art held your hips, fucked his tongue into your cunt like you’d been his last meal, your anxiousness washed away. All you could do was let the shake of your thighs and Arts dripping oral member lead you to a crisp pleasurable cry.

“Shit,” Art took a brief exhale as he pulled away from your entrance, dampened lips of your juices going wide with a grin and he ran his palms over your slick thighs again,

“you’re so fucking wet for me, princess. You gonna take my dick? Let me make you feel good?”

“Mmm, please. Fill me up, Art. I wanna feel you.”

“You gotta be quite for me, baby.” Art stood to his feet.

You didn’t care. All you could think about was dick. Arts phenomenal dick. You wanted him to toss you over and split you open till you were sobbing on his thick member, your wine drunk friends would understand. A girl has her needs.

The risk made your blood pressure rise as the moment went on, when Art reached over you to tug your panties dangling from your thighs all the way down — he kicked them off to the side. Taking note of his own belt buckle and undoing it quickly, which you only grew more greedy by the sound of him unzipping his fly. The blondes aquamarine orbs swam with the need to pump you fuller than you’d ever taken him.

“Bend over for me, sweet girl..” Art breathed out softly as his slightly calloused hands ran from your hip up your spine while you did so, bending over fully and displaying your sweet dripping cunt for the mans lidded eyes. He sucked in his breath and his now aroused dick twitched when it unveiled from his boxers — going barmy with just how tiny and soft you looked beyond him.

“So fucking tight and small- - your amazing with the way you take me when I barely fit in, sweets.”

You bit down on your finger as you watched Art run his hands over your ass. Take your hips and line his cock up with your hole. He hissed at the way your soaking cunt wet his tip, you almost croaked out a deep moan at his gestures to tease your pussy. Just nodding along as you’d gone cock drunk before he’d even been in you. Your nails run at the marble counter as Art slowly burrowed into your drooling core. Working you open as his cock disappeared into your body inch by inch — he pushed your thigh higher onto the ledge as you whined at the stretch.

“Ah.. mmm- - fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groaned as you adjusted to the size of his warmth finally filling you full. Art was big. And he’d never want to put you, his sweet doll in discomfort for long, never. So when he started to plunge into you, he watched as your face scrunched up from ache to pleasure in time. His name sputtering from your mouth as you clawed at the counter top and he watched your pussy lips that were just throbbing around his erection like it was begging to be so sporadically fucked by him.

“That’s it baby doll,” his own groans heightened as his hips knock into your cervix, chasing that spot of yours till you were moaning and whimpering like a slut around him. Hole so full with yours and his pre-cum and you sucked in your bottom lip, tussled hair going wild on your back. You just had to look over your shoulder to watch him — see Arts gorgeous face as he snapped against you all shimmering with light sweat as he focused on the way a ring of your wetness pooled around his base.

“You love this, hu? Getting me to fuck you while your friends carry on without you- - At your party. But you just had to come.. looking for daddy’s cock, yeah? You love being a dirty, dirty girl for me.” Art rasped as he clenched his jaw with the overwhelming feeling of your tight cunt clenching him. It made your skin feel like it had been sparked with fire, so exhilarated. He put his hands in your hair to fuck into you as your jaw dangled open.

“Oh! F-fuck! I needed that big fucking dick, daddy… w-want you to cum all over me, mmm- -” you were choking out whimpers and your pretty little hole dripped with Arts pre-seed slipping from you, making it drag out when he pulled out of your pussy to turn you around and pick you up in one swift motion. Your high pitched gasp echoed as you wrapped your legs around the mans abdomen and Art set you on the counter. His lips curl up into a smirk and his eyes met your wide doe set ones. Slipping back into you he watched you cry out his name. Rutting into your heavenly body at this angle, hands go squeezing your thighs, and Art kept them apart as he took you at a wild pace. Hitting that gooey spot till you didn’t remember your own name. “Good fucking girl. That’s it- - such a sweet thing for me, taking all of my cock. It was made for you, doll.”

You couldn’t even catch your self as you’d leaned back on the counter and let Art pound into you. Your tits bounced with each thrust and you were shuttering as your orgasm ripped through you without warning. “Yes ! Ooh- - shit, yes yes yes…” you were whining out as you came on Arts dick. He held your legs spread as he grunted and watched you soak him uncontrollably. You loved it. Feeling like his perfect little gift. Art licked over his lips at the sight of your beauty, throwing your head back in bliss, he pulled out of you and pushed up your dainty little baby doll top — making space as he pumped his throbbing dick over your stomach till he himself came hard. Ropes shooting out on your candescent skin and making sure some got on your pussy just for the fun of it, he grinned and trailed his thumb up your gentle inner calf that had been dangling by his side.

You were whimpering like you’d gotten your brains fucked out to the sweetest soundtrack you’d ever heard. Art was so cinematic in moments like these, he leaned up to kiss at the nape of your neck, cheek, and lips.

“Pretty, perfect girl.. I love you.” Your gentleman muttered against your mouth. You smiled and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Art brought your panties up to help you slip them back over your thighs and to your feet as steady as you could. Dressing himself as well, he glanced down at you through his hooded eyes to see your impressively only slightly disheveled state. You were just always glowing, it was hard to make that go away anyways.

“You sleeping down here tonight?” Art buckled his pants again as he questioned you with a soft raised brow. You started to smirk at the way he was heading. You shrug.

“Maybe, maybe not… I’ll sneak into your room when they’re sleep, if you want.” You offered the man, the glint in your eye saying you’d suck his cock and let him have you in as many different positions as he’d like in a couple hours till you were all tapped out. The blonde only scuffed and towered over your presence that was still taken by your hoyden attitude, just to turn you back towards the doorway.

“Go host your party.” he taunted almost fatherly, to then leave a light slap on your ass that made you giggle on the way out.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #dilf!art #challengers #challengers smut #x reader #challngers x reader #challengers fic #petite!reader #size k!nk #fanfiction #sabrina carpenter #short n sweet #bed chem #chlmtsdoll writes

1K notes · View notes

3liza · 11 months ago

Text

here's what I've learned to never pay full price for, because people are giving these items away for free or almost free on Craigslist, Nextdoor, Facebook, at Goodwill, and on eBay (which has a local pickup section) in every sufficiently populated location in the USA.

cost of acquiring these items ranges from "carrying it home from the sidewalk" to "getting a friend with a car to help you pick it up" which is the same amount of effort as going to IKEA for worse quality that costs more, with the notable exception of it being a pain in the ass to coordinate with craigslist sellers, and you often have to wait and watch for what you want to actually show up. it took me about a year to find an acceptable gamer chair left out on the sidewalk, for example. but they cost $100+ new, so I chose to wait.

a lot of this stuff is the kind of thing you don't necessarily intend to keep, just to use in transitional housing or until you can afford a better one.

1. printers of any kind. basic office inkjets are free. ink is easily refillable or has generic ink cartridges way cheaper than brand name for any inkjet up to about 2015, not sure how difficult the newer smart printers are to hack but there's no reason to own a newer one because printing technology has not improved since about 2005. you want a color laser for making zines and wheatpastes? it's on Craigslist RN and someone's mom is desperate to get rid of it

2. bedframes

3. desks

4. tables

5. chairs

6. bookshelves, nice oak bookshelves that don't bend like al dente spaghetti when you put books on them, are rotting on sidewalks rn because they didn't fit in someone's house. go get them

7. scanners. I find a working scanner by a dumpster at least once a quarter, and I don't pick them up because I already have one that I picked up from a dumpster years ago

8. hot tubs. everyone thinks they want a hot tub and that the maintenance and upkeep will be worth it, and they are wrong. Craigslist.

9. sofas, with the caveat that if you are in a bedbug region like New York State you need to be very confident in your bedbug screening skills

10. quality leather shoes. these last forever and are expensive new. eBay is best for these

11. plates, glassware, silverware. all of these are able to be sterilized to whatever standard you feel comfortable with but if you eat in restaurants you've already put a fork in your mouth that hundreds of people have drooled on so try not to fool yourself

12. televisions and computer monitors

13. houseplants. similar to the bedbug warning above, you need to screen these for pests like fungus gnats and mealybugs

14. dressers, wardrobes, china hutches, cabinets, chests of drawers, etc

15. mirrors

16. clothes hangers

17. moving boxes

18. mattresses to a certain extent. I don't like secondhand used mattresses but unstained, unused mattresses are surprisingly common, especially since the foam mail order mattress boom started and people keep getting told by the mattress companies to just get rid of/keep any mattresses they want to return for flaws or wrong sizes or whatever. bedbug warning on this obviously

19. sheets and towels. you gotta launder them obviously

20. basic clothing, especially for kids. normie type clothing is so numerous people often just throw them away because they can't get anyone to take them

21. kitchenware like cooking utensils and pots n pans. don't use chipped or scratched Teflon/nonstick if you can help it. everyone needs one basic steel chef knife, which can be sharpened and maintained indefinitely. people throw these away CONSTANTLY

22. household consumables like laundry soap and dish soap. people often accidentally buy the wrong brand, scent, or develop allergies and want to get rid of extra

23. pet supplies like collars, leashes, dog crates, litter boxes, litter itself, dog beds, toys, carriers, etc

24. medical equipment of all kinds. people who take care of all kinds of patients end up with tons of leftover, sealed, miscellaneous stuff when that person recovers or dies, and they often give it away. adult diapers, hospital beds, IV stands, crutches, walkers, wheelchairs, fracture boots and splints, knee braces, canes, catheter packs, ice packs, heat packs, sterile paper sheeting, gauze, slings, over-the-door stretching and rehab pulleys, mattress protectors, etc

25. washers and dryers, both the basic household cube type and the small twin tub or rock tumbler type. people upgrade these when the old ones are still working, just squeaky or a little weird or sometimes just old

26. vacuum cleaners. secondhand ones are sort of icky but you can get rid of the ickiness by wiping them down with a rag and isopropyl alcohol inside and out. use an exacto or utility knife to slice off the hair and string wrapped around the roller. buy a new filter on Amazon. people throw away vacuums that work perfectly all the time because they don't actually know how to clean them out or do maintenance. bedbug and pet hair warning obviously

27. microwaves

28. refrigerators

30. lamps

31. any kind of exercise equipment including stationary bikes, ellipticals and weights/weight benches

32. any kind of piano. there's a grand on my local Craigslist for free rn

33. scrap wood and lumber

34. pallets

35. wood shipping crates

36. newborn, toddler and baby equipment like breast milk pumps and storage, bottles, bottle racks, diapers, etc. anything a little guy will grow out of fast will end up being given away

37. air conditioners, humidifiers and dehumidifiers. these will be most numerous during their respective off seasons

list updated 2/13/24 based on recent Craigslist trawling

38. jars, both canning type jars and clean food jars like from pickled or jelly bought at the store

39. rugs. most of my rugs are sidewalk finds. rugs will almost always be dirty. a decent consumer grade rug cleaner costs under $100, it's cheaper to just buy one if you have the space to store it. flushing the scavenged rug with soap, hot water, vinegar, alcohol, etc will clean almost anything but huge bedbug and allergen warning on this item

#blog #dumpster diving #pro doom strats

2K notes · View notes

xblackkurox · 1 year ago

Text

The Neighborhood

Warnings: Smut, fem reader, sub!reader x Dom!Toji, dirty talk, p in v, degradation, penetration, fingering, a bit of oral if you squint, slut shaming, big dick toji, you are doing it while Megumi sleeps, Toji is rough, spitting, unprotected sex (use it!), belly bulge, dacryphilia, cum eating, orgasm denial, Toji is a little mean, nipple play, creampie, breeding kink. I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed something!! And OFC: MINORS DON'T INTERACT!!!! This might be full of grammar mistakes since eng is not my first language, sowy :).

ENJOY BABES <3

In which you arrive to a new building to start a new life. Little do you know what type of neighbors await you.

First off, the older and tired single dad Toji, whom you help out with taking care of his kid a couple of times.

You looked around, hands in your hips. Finally, you say to yourself. It’s been a whole afternoon of unpacking and decorating, but your new apartment is officially done. You just arrived to this new building yesterday, first time living alone, actually first time moving out of your parent’s house.

The apartment was small, you didn’t really care and even if you did, that’s all you could afford at the moment. Looking at the bright side of it, it was quick to decor.

You wiped away a drop of sweat in your forehead, time for a shower.

Trail of your clothes to the bathroom, you turned on the shower and choose the artist for today. Arctic Monkeys it is. You enter the shower as the music starts blasting. The fresh water cleaning and relaxing you. The feeling is amazing, this is what freedom tastes like?

You are so immersed in yourself, vibing to the music and enjoying the water running down your body, you don’t even realize there is someone knocking at your door until the slams get hard enough.

Fuck, you swear to yourself. Stepping out of the shower, you grab a towel and wrap it down your body. The knocking getting more and more insistent. You stop the song now playing and hurry to the door, still soaking.

“Going! Damn…” And you open the door.

Oh…

Tall, black haired, a scar on the corner of his lip. The too small for him shirt wraps his toned arms and chest, God you can even see his abs through it. His gray eyes looking at you, he’s obviously angry, but he still scans your barely covered body up and down.

“Turn the damn music down.” His deep voice commands.

“Why should I?” You raise a brow at him, annoyed that he is rudely scolding you for 10 minutes of some music. He ruined your well deserved relaxing shower.

He clicks his tongue before talking again, he looks like he’s having a hard time trying to control his tone while speaking. It’s actually pretty intimidating, specially because he is built like a wardrobe.

“Do you even know what time is it?” Before you answer back, he rises his hand slightly and stops you. “Late.” He states.

His fingers comb his dark hair back, he looks tired.

“Look, I live next door, I have a kid, and I’m trying to put him to sleep… So just stop being a brat and tone it down, alright?”

He almost sounds desperate. Your lips press together in an empathic and apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry, didn’t know. It was just for my shower, so anyw…”

“Nice.” And he left to his still open door. Asshole, I should blast my music even louder now, you think to yourself.

You watch him walk and right before he closes the door to his apartment you see a little black haired kid rubbing his eyes. Well, maybe you behave for the little kid.

A couple of days later, you are eating some Chinese food in your couch when you hear a knock on the door. You stop scrolling down on your Instagram, put the food down on the table and head to the door.

When you open it, there’s no one… Until you look down. The little’s kid eyes wandering on the floor, you can see a slight blush on his cheeks. Squatting down to match his height, you tilt your head and give him a soft smile.

“Hello there… Is something wrong?” He seems a little cautious when talking to you.

“I can’t get inside the house… Dad is not here.”

“Well, do you know your dad’s number? I can call him.” The kid says no with his head.

“Ummmm… Alright, you can wait with me until he arrives, I’ll leave him a note on the door. Is that okay?” He nods, he hasn’t looked you once in the eyes yet.

He follows you into the apartment, you grab a post-it a quickly write there: “Your kid locked himself out of the house, he is with me. Atte: Your brat neighbor next door.”

Once it’s hooked to their door, you come back to your own house. The black haired child is standing awkwardly in your living room.

You sit in the couch and tap the place by your side.

“Sit here, we can watch TV.” He climbs beside you. “So, what’s your name?”

“Megumi…”

He’s so shy.

“And where’s dad?” Megumi looks directly at you for the first time.

“Working.”

“And you are alone?” A nod in response. “ Why were you out of the house?”

His cheeks blushing harshly, he looks away once again. He confesses anyway.

“There was a spider, the door closed.”

You hold in a laugh. “It’s okay, I am scared of spiders too. Now, are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.” He declines politely. He is way more of a gentleman than his dad.

“You sure? I can order some pizza.” His eyes light up as he looks at you. “Pizza it is, then.”

Little by little, Megumi is loosening up a bit. He becomes more chatty while you eat pizza, he evens smile from time to time. You are getting done with dinner when knocks on the door interrupt you. Must be him.

You stand from the floor where you were with Megumi and walk to the door. The handsome man has the post-it in hand, his head peeks inside to check on the kid.

“He’s safe and sound, don’t worry.” His eyes lock with yours.

“Thank you…” He seems sincere.

“Wanna come in? He’s just finishing dinner.” His eyes widen while entering the apartment.

“Dinner? You didn’t have to…”

“I ordered pizza for me and shared, no big deal” You lie. He side eyes you, probably suspecting that’s not true.

He squats in front of Megumi. “How you doing kid? You’ve been good to the young lady, I suppose?”

Megumi nods, and shakes off the hand his dad places on his little head. Too focused on the TV. I laugh while sitting on the couch.

“Have a seat, don’t need to rush him.”

He sits beside you, his legs spread and his elbows on each knee. Your breath gets stuck in your throat for a moment, in this distance you can smell his manly scent. His eyes gaze at you.

“So, what’s your name, doll?” You answer. “Right, thank you again, y/n.”

You can tell by his deep voice how exhausted he is, so the next sentence you pronounce it carefully.

“Does Megumi stay alone at home often?” He remains silent for a moment, looking at you. Seemed like he was trying to figure out whether you were judging his parenting or not. Finally, he sighed and brushed back his hair.

“Nah, only when I work in the afternoons, not happens much… I usually work in the mornings and Megumi is at school.” His eyes looking down at his son, he’s finished with the pizza, but he is still enchanted with the movie on the TV.

You're playing with your own fingers in your lap, clearing your throat before speaking again.

“I could take care of him when that happens, I also work in the mornings.”

“Can’t pay for a babysitter.” He cuts you quickly.

“Wasn’t expecting to get paid. Megumi is a sweet kid, I wouldn’t mind taking care of him.”

The kid is sweet, but the dad is hot as hell.

His gray eyes light up slightly, he is looking so deep into you, you fear he could read your thoughts. He then looks at his son again.

“Hey Megu.” The kid turns his head to his dad with an annoyed grin. “Would you like to spend time here when dad’s not home?”

Megumi’s eyes look at you shortly. “Cool.” He simply answers, thumb up.

You laugh, a bit flattered with the kid’s approval. Toji sighs and gets up from the couch.

“Thank you doll. I’ll let you know beforehand each time.” The nickname giving you butterflies in your tummy.

“Sure.”

Toji grabs Megumi and puts him over his shoulder, walking to the door. The kid whines and demands to keep watching TV.

“Megumi be polite with the pretty girl and thank her.” Megumi obeys his father and mumbles a little “thanks” to you with embarrassment.

And like that, you became Megumi’s occasional babysitter.

……

You were laying in Toji’s couch, scrolling through your socials waiting for the man to get home. You putted Megumi to bed a while ago now, since it was already late at night.

You heard the keys on the lock and then the door opening. Toji’s lazy steps took a while to get into the living room. His eyes gazed at you as he took off his jacket.

“Comfortable there doll?” Were his first words as his gaze scanned your laying body.

“Megumi is in bed already.” You reply, putting away your phone and looking at him. His black bangs falling on his forehead, gray tired eyes.

“I figured.” He sits on the couch beside your feet.

“How’s work” You sit up on the couch.

“Good, actually got some news for you. I’ve been promoted at work, so from now on, ill be able to pay for an actual babysitter. You don’t need to do this no more.”

You clear your throat slightly before talking, don’t want him to notice the disappointment in your voice.

“Aw, so this is my last time baby sitting Megu?” He nods. “Hope I can still come around to hang out with him sometime.”

“I’m sure he would love that.” Would you? The question gets stuck in your chest.

“Well…” You say while getting up. “It’s been a pleasure-”

“Come sit on my lap.” He pats his thighs with his big hand.

“Wait… What?” You’re actually not sure if he said those words or your brain is playing a trick on you. Either way, you go red in your cheeks.

“You’ve heard me, sit on my lap.” Alright, he said that. You stay still. “Know you want it, so don’t make me repeat myself again.”

His voice sounds demanding and slightly annoyed. Even if you didn't want to, it would be hard to disobey him. Good for you that you wanted.

With shaky legs, you sit astride on his lap, your hands finding his hard chest for balance.

Now that you’ve obeyed him, his expression softens considerably. The scar on the corner of his mouth deforming into a mischievous smirk.

“There you go. Now don’t be so shy, I’ve seen how you look at me.” His big hand cups your face, his thumb gently rubbing your hot cheek. “Huh? Where did all your confidence go all of a sudden? Just wanna pay you back for taking care of my kiddo.”

The rough palm of his free hand teasing from your knee up your thigh, finding its way under your sporty shorts. Grabbing your ass cheek with no shame. Your legs tremble on top of him, your lips part as if to moan.

Toji lets out a mean chuckle before lifting you from your lap and throwing you back on the couch, you gasp as your back touches de cushions. The man wastes no time as he towers you and slides both your shorts and panties off your legs in a smooth motion.

“Oh? Toji!” Your voice coming out high-pitched.

“You better keep it quiet, doll face.” He spreads wide open your shaky legs. “Don’t wanna wake up Megumi now, don’t ya?”

Next thing you feel is two of his thick long fingers forcing its way inside of you, stretching you open. “W-wait.” You plead, trying to keep your voice lower this time.

“For what? You're already soaking wet, darling.” His palm smacks against your clit with each thrust, splashing your juices all over your belly and thighs.

“Fuuuuck-” A whine leaving your lips as he slides in another finger.

“Stop complaining, doin this for your own good.” He scissors and stretches you open, his thumb playing and rubbing in circular movements on your swollen button. With his other hand, he pulls your shirt over your bare breasts.

“Of course, not wearing bra, like the little whore you are.” He takes your nipple between his thumb and his index, pinching and pulling from it. You hiss, he’s too harsh. “You thought I was not gonna catch how your nipples always peek through your slutty clothes? Or maybe that’s exactly what ya wanted…”

He spits in your unattended breast right before spreading his saliva around your boob with his tongue. Your back arches when he teases with his teeth. Your hand covering your mouth, muffling soft moans.

Your hips start to roll back against his hand, a familiar tension building up in your stomach. By now, you already need to be biting on your fingers, so your pornographic sounds don’t get too loud. That’s when he pulls his thick, calloused fingers out from your pussy.

“You’re only cumming on my dick.” He sentences. “Now take off that shirt, don’t want it covering your pretty tits.”

As you do so, he also takes off his shirt. Exposing his very much toned torso, tell me about pretty tits. His gaze checking out your naked and spread body as he pulls down his trousers and boxers to his knees.

“Wait.” Your eyes widen.

You are no scared virgin, but you can’t deny the little sense of anxiety that settles in your chest when you see his size. Now you understand what he meant by that doing this for your own good comment.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit in.” Your voice coming out tremulous. His face turning into an almost cynical expression.

“Bet it does.” Your legs spread wider by his hands. By this point, it’s not even necessary, he just wants to see your soaking cunt on display for him. “And you're gonna take it with no nagging, got it?”

He doesn't even wait for an answer, a nod, some sort of approval. No, he is already pushing his thick and long cock pass your folds.

The sting of pain is immediate, making you shed some tears.

“Fuck Toji! It hurts!” His hand going to your mouth like a slap, except he keeps it there. Covering right under your nose, muffling any sound and pinning your head to the couch. You can taste yourself in the skin of his palm.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” Threatening and deep voice, it shouldn’t turn you on so much.

Your eyes shut as he stretches you open and fills you up like you’ve never been before. He is looking down, watching how stuffed you are with his dick, a little bulge poking in your belly.

He moves, sliding himself out until just his fat tip is in, only to thrust all of him back in. Over and over again. The hand on your mouth, already wet with your tears and drool.

His jaw is clenched, growling in a predatory way.

“Don’t be so dramatic doll, from the way your sensitive cunt is throbbing and sucking me in I can tell you like it.”

He sets a fast pace, and finally he stops muzzling you. He chuckles when he sees your expression, watching how he already turned you into a whimpering mess.

Both his hands going to grip your waist, pushing your body down to meet his brutal ramming. He is gonna leave bruises there. It hurts, but it hurts so good.

“Nnnnnngh- so full-” Your fingers are grabbing the cushions, holding in for dear life.

“Fuck- I didn't think you were going to be so tight… Based on how slutty you look.”

Drops of sweat running down his pectorals to his abs, his skin shiny, just like yours must look too. Your breasts bouncing up and down with the back and forth of his hips.

Each time, being harder to swallow your own moans, as the pain fades away and the intense pleasure of being full replaces it.

Toji is fucking you out of your senses, losing consciousness of where you are and, of course, of how loud you are being.

He pulls out for a second, flipping you on your stomach, his hands pulling your hips up, making your knees bend. Ass up for him. “Bite the damn cushion, since you can’t be fucking quiet.”

At first, you don’t do it, but when he thrusts back in, his pelvis smacking your booty cheeks, you hurry to grab a cushion and stuff your mouth with it.

You can hear him chuckle meanly behind you, hands massaging and spreading your ass as he keeps charging against you.

The plushie muffling your struggled cries.

“That’s it… next time we fuckin at your place, gonna make you bounce on my dick and be as loud as you want, alright doll face? Wanna hear those sweet whimpers of yours.” You turn your face to look at him over your shoulder, nodding. You look so fucked up, a stray tear rolling down your blushed cheek. That view only fuels Toji’s lust, he goes harder and reaches deeper.

One of his hands wrap around your hair and yanks you up, your back pressed against his board chest. His other hand goes to your neck, choking you slightly. Not enough to leave you breathless, but enough to keep your sounds at bay.

Like this, he reaches too deep, hitting your cervix over and over again. You are getting closer, dangerously quickly. Your eyes roll back, and your hands search something to grip desperately, finding his forearms to dig your nails on.

“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last long.” You weren’t even doing that on purpose, you weren’t doing anything voluntary right now. Your mind too far gone to have any type of control over your body.

“Gonna cum inside, you are so sweet to my kid bet you would be a good mama huh? Want me to put a baby in you?”

You definitely not wanted to be a mother right now, but those words hit something primal within you. You nodded, head falling back in his shoulder.

“Yeah! Fill me up!” His grip in your throat and waist tighten after your words, the ramming so animalistic pushing you over the edge.

Your eyes rolling back, toes curling, whole body spasming, mouth wide open letting go hoarse and struggled babbling.

Toji cums right after, with some final sloppy thrusts. Filling your insides with his seed.

“Fuck- taking me so good-”

He lets go of you after a moment, causing you to fall to your previous position, back arched and ass lifted, eyes shut while you pant. Toji watches in delight how the mix of his cum and your juices drool out of you. The view enough to make him hard again.

“You alright there doll face?” His voice was hoarse and sounded out of breath. His hands wrapped around your waist to flip you around. He chuckled at your fucked out expression.

You bat your wet eyelashes at him, finally coming back to reality, a little nod to his question.

“Good. Now, how many times you’ve taken care of Megumi?”

You tilt your head, confused by the sudden question and still gasping for air.

“Like five?”

With a nod, he crawled back in the couch, lowering in between your thighs. His tongue sticking out and lapping at your sensitive cunt. Recollecting the mix of both your cums. You squirm and hiss, overstimulated.

“Four more and we’ll be even.”

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji smut #fushiguro toji #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu toji #toji zenin #jjk fic

2K notes · View notes

saintzweig · 2 months ago

Text

gym teacher! patrick moodboard & headcanons

– thank you for 400!!! this is long overdue but i just had so many ideas for it, i had to write them all down. all hail gym patrick teacher anon. slightly proof read idk also i just kinda went ham on this so apologies if it's very out of character or slightly different from the ones i've posted before.

ꢾ꣒ the first time you saw patrick, he's walking down the hallways beside the principal. a very casual fit, jeans and shirt, because he doesn't have much going on in his wardrobe. (having sold his expensive clothes to afford gas and food)

ꢾ꣒ you were asked to give him a tour so when you were introduced, his first thought is how much you give miss honey from matilda vibes.

ꢾ꣒ your personality wasn't far from it as well– selfless, passionate and caring, everything he wasn't and hadn't witnessed in years.

ꢾ꣒ you've heard about him, of course. the teacher's lounge was filled with excited since the news of pro-tennis player patrick zweig coming to work in their local school.

ꢾ꣒ when you gave him the tour, he seemed a little jittery and ended up overcompensating with jokes and compliments. which he knows definitely weren't the right things to say but it's his first job, an actual job that he felt he had no qualifications for.

ꢾ꣒ you were understanding though, didn't judge him so quickly which he was extremely grateful for.

ꢾ꣒ he quickly got on well with the students because well, he's young, cool and funny. he was definitely not that great when it comes to paperworks and lessons during his first few months at school but he learned eventually.

ꢾ꣒ the students love calling him mr.z because they somehow end up butchering his last name plus he thinks it's very validating when teens think you're cool enough to give you a nickname.

ꢾ꣒ he loves making the kids play dodgeball because it's brutal lol

ꢾ꣒ he would always come by your room during short breaks, shamelessly sticking his hand in the fishbowl filled with candies for your students.

ꢾ꣒ he would always try to sit with you during lunch in the teacher's lounge because he claims you're the only sane one besides him. he'd ask questions about you or tea on the teachers...

ꢾ꣒ you tried putting distance between the two of you at first because you're professional and have boundaries and he's ... patrick and new. but you soon realized how fun and comforting being in his presence is. you love your job but dealing with kids five days a week is stressful and he helps make it bearable.

ꢾ꣒ during assemblies, he'd always stand next to you with his arms crossed. pretending to watch over the students and keep them behaved but in the end, he's the one who ends up misbehaving by trying to make conversation with you, he's not that good at whispering.

ꢾ꣒ he'd always say hi, compliment your clothes or pop into your classroom to rile the kids up and annoy you. he'd come up to your desk saying he has something important to tell you but it's all nonsense, and it's only when the door closes behind him that you noticed the post-it note he left on your desk. "dinner?"

ꢾ꣒ things start to escalate more when you two were tasked to chaperone a field trip. on the way back, everyone's knocked out including you. he lets you rest your head on his shoulder, his hand itching to grab yours and keep you close.

ꢾ꣒ he'd tap you awake when he notices you're getting closer to the school. dazed, you lift your head up. accidentally just centimeters away from his. after realizing you've just been staring into each other's eyes, you both look away with a light shade of red dusting your cheeks.

ꢾ꣒ after that moment, he'd try to convince the other staffs to plan a work dinner or a night out just to get close to you and talk without all the awkwardness.

ꢾ꣒ he'd be rushing to sit next to you, doing everything to keep your attention on him. he's handing you the things you're asking for, putting more food onto your plate, refilling your glass.

ꢾ꣒ by the end of the night, you mention how you were planning to uber home but he insists that he drives you, to be safe. and he definitely didn't plan for it because his car is a mess, he opens the door to the passenger seat and tosses a bunch of stuff to the backseat before stepping aside to let you in.

ꢾ꣒ you ask him if he wanted to go for post-night out burger before driving you home and of course he's not going to say no to more time with you.

ꢾ꣒ you get your burger and fries then he drives you to a small cliff he found when he first moved here, telling you the story of how he ended up in this town in the first place.

ꢾ꣒ he was surprised to see you tearing up, you say its because he's gone through so much and found the strength to start over again but he's downplaying it, saying he's sure other people go through much worse

ꢾ꣒ and you're like, no don't say that. you're valid, everything you've gone through is valid and i'm so proud of you for striving to be better (miss honey mode activated.)

ꢾ꣒ his heart swells, staring at you with a surprised expression because he hasn't heard that in so long, that someone was proud of him.

ꢾ꣒ fast forward, you're sharing a cozy apartment after you proposed being roommates, saying rent in this economy is really bad and with your pay, you're not sure how long you're gonna be able to keep a roof over your head. it was hasty, sure but it felt right. now you've made a home together.

ꢾ꣒ he gets up atleast half an hour before you, kissing you on the forehead before getting up to brew some coffee. you two live such a domestic life, different from what he's had before you.

ꢾ꣒ on weeknights, you get a lot of take out– mostly chinese, indian and thai because you have so much work to do. sitting together to prepare lessons or grade papers.

ꢾ꣒ if you're not busy, takeouts while rewatching sitcoms (i feel like he watches full house or b99). sometimes you'd play recordings of his games and he thinks you're doing it to embarrass him but really you love tennis era patrick.

ꢾ꣒ during the weekends, you would either go out (outside the city) and explore, hike maybe or just walk around. or you would stay in and make a full course meal together, with candles and music.

ꢾ꣒ you agreed (mostly you) to keep the relationship a secret for a while and he knows how important keeping your personal life from your work life separate is to you so he respects that. and also because you don't know how workplace romance is perceived at work so better safe than unemployed.

ꢾ꣒ he drives the two of you to school so you make him wait ten minutes after you go in before he can. after work, he'd drive over a few blocks from the school and wait for you there so people don't see you going in his car.

ꢾ꣒ he tries to act normal, like you two are just friendly coworkers but he can't help going out of his way to touch you or talk to you. sliding past behind you when you're in the lounge to place his hand on your back. standing beside you and touching your arm with his when you're making coffee. secretly holding your hand under the table when you're sitting down for lunch.

ꢾ꣒ the two of you think you're so slick but literally everyone can see that you're flirting, you're in your honeymoon phase– constantly smiling and whispering to each other, blushing instantly when you make eye contact from across the room. you're not very subtle.

ꢾ꣒ while hanging out with other teachers, someone casually mentions your relationship with patrick and you're like, "huh? what relationship? we're friends" and they're like girl cut it out, we're not idiots.

ꢾ꣒ patrick is so relieved to know that they know because he's tired of (badly) pretending that you're just a coworker. he wants to be able to tell and show people that he's yours and you're his.

ꢾ꣒ the students, of course, find out eventually and being teenagers, they're shameless with their teasings. wolf whistling and squealing whenever patrick would interrupt the class to tell you something (which you know he does on purpose because he's an annoying little shit).

ꢾ꣒ he loves giving you flowers and buying you books, massaging your feet after a long day, setting a bath for the two of you to relax in. his love language is quality time and acts of service.

ꢾ꣒ he couldn't believe how different the life he's living right now from the life he used to have. he's living in a stars hollow-esque town, has a proper job that's not about tennis and has a beautiful partner he comes home with.

ꢾ꣒ he can't wait to marry you in a church and raise a family with you, have kids that will eventually go to your school and he'll teach :")

#I HOPE THIS IS OKAY #saintzweig moodboard ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅#saintzweig writes ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅#challengers #patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers headcanons #patrick zweig x reader

291 notes · View notes

gaywineauntsstuff · 1 month ago

Text

Question?

We talk about how Tim, Jason and Damian’s parents raised them pre Bruce but why don’t we talk about Dick Graysons.

Bc even before all of the court of the owls shit the way that man was raised was wild.

So remember Dick was a member and active participant of a circus as a child. A trapeze act without a net who was expected to pull his weight since he could walk.

That means that despite what everyone thinks John and Mary Grayson absolutely could not afford to gentle parent their child.

At all.

Dick had to know how dangerous his life was forever. He has to be perfect because if he fails him or his parents die. They die with a mistake. Don’t stretch your hand out far enough and someone falls.

And despite the fact that the Romani aspect of his character was born out of a writers need for fetish content. I still find it interesting to explore.

And since I am European! Halys circus truther

It gets more interesting because the anti-Romani sentiment in Europe is vile, obvious and violent. (And I say this as a poc who grew up outside of Europe and moved here for college. Like you’d never imagine the type of shit they say about a group of people with no shame before turning around and commenting about how crazy it is that poc are treated poorly in the rest of the world.) Now imagine your child is working a dangerous gig while being part of a hated minority and you have to go and advertise your whole families location because you are the centerpiece of a show.

Yall think Mary and John Grayson didn’t teach their kid to lie? To fit in with any group humanly possible.

You think Mary and John didn’t teach dick to switch from, mama to mom to Daj. To switch accents and tones and languages since before he could walk on his hands?

You think that this kid who grew up traveling everywhere wouldn’t know how to integrate himself so fully into the society he’s in that he’s invisible as an outsider?

When Dick talks to Bruce in Juvie right before hes taken in as a ward he has an American accent. A Gotham accent and not the ones the other kids has no Dick has a Bristol accent. When he first meets Alfred he has a charming softly British accent, the kind that isn’t immediately noticeable unless you share the accent. The softening of the vowels and heavy central consonants. Think kids who went to British schools abroad and learned English from people with British accents.

Bruce notices this but doesn’t think much of it I mean kids can adapt to their environments startlingly quick maybe the kid just kinda picks up accents.

But then Dick becomes robin and he’s horrifically good at it from the get go.

Which sends alarm bells in Alfred’s head because he raised Bruce at that age. He taught Bruce to defend himself at that age. Bruce wouldn’t be about to do 1/10 of what this kid can do.

No eight year old should be able to throw items with that sort of precision even a child as good at gymnastics as dick. No child should be that comfortable with a knife in his hand.

And of course dick always had an excuse, he grew up around fire breathers and knife throwers of course he’s good.

And Bruce notices when Dick goes out as Robin and begins to help people because for the first few months, he never speaks first.

He’ll save someone and when they thank him, he’ll reply in their exact accent.

The crime alley rougher tones

The high class smarmy Bristol accent

The open vowel Jersey accent

When he meets Superman there’s the barest edges of midwestern twang in his every word.

And it’s just unnerving

He flickers between cultures like their clothes in his wardrobe, accents like they’re a new set of perfectly fit shoes.

He’s just good at it.

And it’s a game to him.

He sees how close he can get to your accent without coming off as suspicious.

By the time he’s being doing the Robin shtick for a while and knows the areas he just immediately switches to the most common accent there even if there aren’t any people around.

His facial expressions and hand gestures change as well.

It adds to the myth of the Batman because the gcpd for a long while believes any Robin reportings to be a myth because one minute someone is reporting a Jersey accent the next genial Californian, or a tv safe reporter tone, one minute the kid is conversing in perfect Russian the next he’s speaking Spanish like he grew up in Mexico.

When he wants to get away with a mistake his voice switches to one indistinguishable from a scared child, with a mild stutter, overgramarization and the scared world slurring children do that makes your heart soft

When he wants people to listen to him his he’s eloquent and enunciating perfectly. He sounds far older than his years.

And everyone thinks they’re hearing the real Dick Grayson speak and it makes their hearts happy because look at how he puts on a show for everyone but trusts me enough to talk without lying.

Without ever realizing that they’re one of the people watching the show.

#dick grayson #nightwing #batman #comics #I love him #manipulative dick Grayson

181 notes · View notes

shamebats · 5 months ago

Text

I can't help but feel annoyed when I see ppl comment on fashion these days & how shitty it is because they often seem to imply that you can't dress youself like "back in the day" anymore but you literally can? You can still pay a skilled person to make nice clothes for you. You can still learn to sew. You can only have a few pieces that you wear all the time & take good care of. Having a wardrobe full of clothes is modern excess & not a necessity. Getting new shoes & clothes at all, especially warm winter stuff, used to be a special event in someone's life.

You can still treat clothes like luxury items. Nobody is stopping you.

The main difference between clothing now & back when my grandma was a kid is that if you're poor now, you can buy cheap fast fashion. Back then you just...wouldn't get any new clothes. Your only boots would fall apart & you wouldn't have any boots anymore. If you had the money, you could pay the cobbler to make some very nice shoes for you. If not, you'd likely have to get your hands on someone else's old boots.

People still do this. But it isn't as convenient and affordable as fast fashion because historically, clothes were never actually that convenient or affordable.

#fast fashion #rant

202 notes · View notes

naomikozura · 7 months ago

Text

Playing with Fire: Prologue

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, harassment, fraud, abandonment, bullying, mention of violence, poverty, mention of kidnapping (mentioned as a worry), (Let me know if I missed any!)

WC: 5.9K

Summary: Weak, poor, bottom of the barrel, that's all you'll ever be. Forced to live a life on the street only to be swept away and for some reason have the odds of meeting Gotham's most infamous Vigilante's sidekick.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Prologue

The nights this year had gotten colder than they had been the past few years. There had been something that went around Gotham the past few weeks, the sense of fear had risen the past few months, there hasn’t been anything you were more sure of. It seemed that crime rates had gone down this holiday season and that could probably be thanks to the amazing duo that was making more appearances as of late. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so safe in this horrid city.

The skyline seems to illuminate the city in a beautiful way, especially since the city seemed to die down so it was the only sign of life during the late hours of the night. You looked over the skyline and wondered if there could be a day you could afford to live in one of those beautiful buildings, to not move around from backyard to backyard or sneaking into hotels just to have a place to sleep at night.

It wasn’t easy being completely alone in a city like this, especially not as a 14 year old, it was absurd and dangerous. You had to find your own means to survive and more times than not, it was not the easiest thing to do. Staying up all night out of fear of being abducted, or spending afternoons going hungry, or not being able to sneak your clothes into the washers at the laundromat. You could find ways to keep up your appearances to make it seem like you weren’t at the absolute bottom of what was Gotham City, but in the end, that was exactly what you were.

Bottom of the barrel. A nobody.

You grabbed the small bag that was next to you and found your way to the door that led to the top of the building. Opening it, and going down the stairs, you managed to grab a key to one of the rooms in the hotel from the maids that were on the fifth floor. You had a way of perfecting the art of scamming your way into hotels so that you didn’t have to spend the night on the street or in someone’s backyard during the cold months of the year. Gotham seemed to bring in as much snow as New York does every year and being outside when the weather was at freezing level wasn’t something you were exactly looking forward to for the third year in a row.

You slid the key into the slot and pushed the door open. Setting down your belongings on the bed, you laid back and let out a breath, letting yourself relax in a way you hadn’t been able to in a long time. You grabbed the dirty clothes and put them into the small washing machine that was inside the unit and stripped down the current clothes you were wearing so you’d be able to shower. Having a limited wardrobe was nice, you never had to struggle on what to wear but also sucked since you wore the same exact thing every single day.

You let the warm water run down your body, your hair becoming damp from the stream that was hitting it. It felt nice to be able to shower and not worry about the cruelties happening outside for once, at least for tonight you could pretend you weren’t some street kid with no future.

The past three years were difficult for you. After you ran away from the orphanage, you found yourself on the streets of Gotham, fending for yourself and doing anything possible to just survive. You found ways to scam hotels by stealing key cards and sneaking into the hotel offices just to ‘access’ the system to book your room under someone rich in Gotham so that you couldn’t be caught sneaking in. It took about two years to truly perfect the art but it became muscle memory after a while. You hadn’t been caught since. Now, you had a flash drive you'd stolen that could connect to the computers and automatically do the work for you.

You felt the hot water burn on your skin in a satisfying way, something that seemed to be a luxury for you. It wasn’t often you could come in and be able to shower since your hotel scams could only be used so often to avoid being caught. You turned the water off and stepped out, you started drying your hair and decided to turn on the TV for a while, the first channel being the Gotham City News.

You turned the volume up and continued to dry your hair, taking your clothes and putting them in the dryer, only leaving you in your undergarments and a robe that was in the suite. The news rambled a lot over politics and the businessmen in Gotham but you could care less really, especially since the majority of the millionaires didn’t care about anyone beneath them, especially not people like you.

You heard the main reporter start bringing up the same headline, the masked vigilante in black and his perfect little sidekick. Your eyes looked back at the TV to see blurry photos of the two standing on a building, off guard, but it still felt posed. You felt a sort of resentment towards the two, but also an unexplainable trust in them. They helped keep Gotham safe, but you wondered if they truly cared about the little people in Gotham, like you or any other orphan.

You turned the TV off before getting into bed and falling asleep, hoping tomorrow would bring a new beginning to your seemingly repetitive life. You wish you could just disappear, never be seen again. Get on a plane and just disappear.

For now, the thought can only be alive in your head, hoping one day it could become a reality for you.

The streets buzzed with life, businessmen taking their morning commutes to the downtown estates and taxis flooding the streets causing traffic for all the early morning people. It wasn’t rare to see people rushing to get to work and finish out the week before going off to their second lives on the streets and nightclubs in Gotham. Businessmen in speakeasies cheating on their wives, city officials betting money on illegal races or gambling with their lives for an adrenaline high. That was all this city was built on, the rush, the gamble of life. People cared too much about money, power, drugs, sex, and getting to be as secular as possible. The gamble was worth it all in the end.

It wasn’t a secret to those on the streets that these people were in connections with the powerful drug lords in Gotham. The only people who seemed to turn a blind eye were the actual people who could maintain a regular schedule, no one below them could give a fuck about what truly happened during Gotham’s day to day, it was at night that everything would come out. Skeletons would be pushed into the open, the ghosts of the past, strenuous addictions, and life ending secrets. The night life of Gotham would bring out even the toughest of peoples’ true selves.

You walked down the street down to downtown, hoping to find some new clothes at a small shop that was decently cheap for Gotham’s standards. You couldn’t stand the swarms of people that came and went, pretentious high profile rats who dressed in fancy clothes to put up an act for the outside world. You were sick of dealing with people who acted like they were better than everyone. You wish you could meet a normal person, just one.

You walked past some of the buildings and made it to the center of downtown and walked by a group of people who were leaning on the walls by the alley, reeking of cigarette smoke, who decided today would be the day to test your patience.

“Hey, little girl, wanna give us a smile?”, one of the gross looking men said.

They wore suits and had their hair nicely done, just another typical businessman in this wretched city. You kept walking, hoping they would leave you alone.

“Hey, don’t you hear us talking to you?”, another one barked out, grabbing your arm and turning you around.

“Get your filthy hands off of me.”, you bit back.

Although you lived on the streets, you always managed to find ways to keep up with your personal hygiene. Scamming hotels was the only way that was possible, and you knew your appearance would attract attention. You knew you caught men's attention, you were a young female living in a city full of pretentious, uptight, privileged people.

“Oh, come on, loosen up sweetheart. We just wanna see that beautiful smile”

“And I said, get your filthy fucking hand off of me!”, you pulled your hand, hoping to get it out of his grip. You weren’t strong, you were intelligent, sly but physically strong enough to fight a guy twice your size and age was a whole other story.

“Stop being such a bitch, you aren’t pretty enough to be talking to us that way, cunt.”, the guy grabbing you said, the shit you had to deal with was revolting.

Your heart was beating in your chest, you hadn’t ever been grabbed like this before, you didn’t know exactly how to react to this situation other than trying to come off as rude as possible. You knew there wasn’t a way to get out of this situation other than hoping you had enough energy to run for your life.

You pulled your arm back, quickly, punching the guy in the nose, ducking under the other two guys’ arms and running out of the alley they pulled you into. You heard them yell and try to go after you. You didn’t look back and kept running, crossing the street and hearing the passing taxis honking and cursing at you. You bumped into people but kept going until you made it to the other side of the city. Your lungs were burning in your chest, you had ran for 20 minutes without stopping and you felt exhausted.

You looked up and noticed you found your way to one of the schools in the area. You saw the engraving on the stone plate outside, Gotham Academy.

You saw the students inside socializing, a tug in your chest, wishing you could have a normal life like that. They had rich parents, everything they could ever ask for, and yet, that was something you could never have. You tried catching your breath and you heard a voice next to you.

You turned around and looked at the courtyard. A guy, who was a bit taller than you, held out a water bottle.

“Need some water?”, you stared at him, unsure if you should accept the offer. Your trust issues seemed to always win over the internal debate between who to trust and who to avoid.

“No.” you said sharply.

“You just seem out of breath, so I figured it might help.”, he continued.

You looked at him, then down at the bottle. You ignored him and picked your bag off the floor, and started to walk away.

“Hey!” you heard him yell, couldn’t he just leave it?

“I said no”, you turned around and were met with his chest. You looked up slightly, his eyes looking into yours, green eyes, to be exact.

“No, that’s fine, but uh, you have a bruise on your arm.”, you looked at the evident bruise, you pulled your sleeve down to try and cover it and found yourself growing self-conscious.

“It'll heal.”, you answered lamely.

You turned and kept walking, ignoring the boy who, for some reason, found you pitiful enough to try and give you charity. You weren’t a charity case and you refused to let some pretentious, rich pretty boy try and help you. Your dignity refused to let you.

You couldn’t help but feel like the whole world was out to get you. Maybe it was trauma, maybe it was distrust, regardless you wanted to rely on no one and be your own person.

You decided the path of isolation a long time ago, and there would not be anything to stop you.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later, you got caught at one of the hotels by the staff and decided to make a run for it but ended up getting tackled by one of the cops that had been on duty resulting in a bloody nose and a sprained ankle. They had called the GCPD to come in to take you to the precinct since you were a minor. You were asked some questions and were enrolled into a foster care program.

You felt a kick in your stomach, going to a pity family was the last thing you wanted, but you figured you could benefit from it. You spent the majority of the past three months in the foster shelter, later, a high class family took you in, claiming they wanted to help you, but you knew this would all be to make themselves look good in front of the other elite families in Gotham.

You were taken in a limousine, a black vehicle that would be worth twenty times anything you could ever dreamed of owning. The couple showed you to your room inside the manor, the family butler placing a new change of clothing and a robe on the bed.

You couldn’t help but feel anger dwelling inside of you, or the spitefulness of having someone take you in just to give themselves a charitable outlook. You would be known as the street orphan who got adopted by the rich and noble elite in hopes to provide a better life for them. It was pitiful, it was aggravating. You despised it.

Even so, you stayed. You stayed and prepared for the day you could leave this place. Training to keep your strength, using the technology to polish your intellect, preparing for every scenario. You always left a bag packed under the bed, a change of clothes ready and enough money to help you get food at any restaurant for a week.

It was more than enough for you to get out of Gotham and find a way to change your life entirely.

Nothing seemed to be more romanticized in your head than jumping on that plane and flying away to another part of the world and forgetting the cards of life you had been dealt.

Even so, you knew that leaving while being underage would be the most difficult part. You had no passport, barely enough money to start a new life somewhere else. All the possibilities came down to long term thoughts, though you only had short term solutions.

Your dreams of flying across the world would have to be postponed until you were more able, more of age, and more financially stable to pursue the dreams of flying to the ends of the earth to escape the wretched place you knew as home.

The goal was to leave this life, to leave Gotham.

Freedom from poverty, from abuse, from everything.

Even after you tried to escape reality, you heard the loud bell inside the academy ringing out, signaling time for classes to end. You grabbed your bag full of books and brushed the hair out of your face. You walked through the halls, trying to reach the exit doors and head home. You hated that your… ‘parents’ enrolled you into such a revolting school. A private academy with only the elite children of Gotham that were set up for success and nothing to worry about other than getting their trust funds once their parent’s retired.

You pushed through the doors and headed down the steps before you heard a group of girls sitting on the bench stare at you and start laughing.

“Is that…. Is that her?”

“Yeah, I heard that they took her off the streets after she got arrested”

“Who let a person like that into the academy? Have we started going downhill?”

Your eyes twitched at the comments of the people around you. You just so happened to be enrolled into the academy half way through the school year, so keeping a low profile would not be the easiest thing since you were the talk of the halls as the ‘new girl’. You had only been going to the academy for a few weeks, but trouble still found its way to you regardless of never talking to anyone.

You hated Gotham's elite, but hated their pretentious children even more.

You kept walking, but suddenly felt yourself losing your balance and falling to the ground. Your bag fell with you and you heard snide laughter off to the side. You lifted your head and turned behind you, looking up at a tall, blonde haired guy that had one of the girls from earlier standing next to him.

“Looks like you still enjoy picking trash off the ground, streetrat.”, he commented. The girl, presumably his girlfriend, laughed before pointing at you and your disheveled state.

I swear if they don’t leave me alone I will break her nose.

You quietly ignored them and stood up, ignoring the comments they were making, it was better for you to just walk away.

You brushed yourself off then felt a hand grab your arm, “Hey, I’m talking to you, street rat”, you heard the guy’s deep voice call to you.

You turned around, your fist already made, but not before you felt another hand weigh down your arm. You turned around and saw another guy, taller than you but shorter than the first guy that had grabbed you. He looked like he was glaring down the instigator.

“Now, let’s calm down, yeah?”, he said deeply. His eyes intently squinted hoping that the other guy would let you be. Who the hell was this guy and why is he trying to interfere in something that doesn’t include him. You felt a sort of annoyance growing inside of you, but before you could speak up, the taller guy backed away, telling his girlfriend to go with him.

“You’re lucky I don’t have time to waste on charity cases, Todd.”, and with that he left.

You wanted to punch the guy in the face and break his nose so badly but felt the anger leave you when Todd turned to say something to you. “Sorry about that, you okay? It looks like your arm might bruise up”, you looked at him and turned to grab your bag and started to walk away.

“Hey!”, he yelled after you, catching up to your speedy form. “You’re walking away again?”

Again? What did he mean by again? You turned around and met him eye to eye.

“Who are you? What do you want?”, you asked him with a sting in your tone. He looked at you with surprised eyes.

“I remember you, from a few months ago. I offered you water.”

You stared at him, confusion setting in, but you also replayed that memory in your head. Those green eyes weren’t something to just forget, you remembered how nice they looked the first time you saw them. Regardless, he wasn’t relevant enough to you to entertain the conversation any more.

“No, sorry. I think you got the wrong person.”

You said quickly before going off, ignoring the boy who just helped you from attracting more trouble. You were sure he was probably nice, but your lack of trust in others overcame any sense of truth that you could face in becoming friends or even acquaintances with anyone.

Never trust the elite.

The night was cold, it wasn't winter anymore, but the spring hadn’t settled in entirely so the crisp air of the night would entangle you in a cold front that almost seemed too much to manage while you sat on the roof of the building. You managed to sneak out after the family had gone to sleep. You were wearing a sweater and a pair of black pants.

You overlooked the city and hated the fact that there was so much happening down in the streets, it was dangerous for you to be out in the city this late but now that you had money, well the family’s money, you could afford a small bottle of pepper spray. You had your legs up to your chest, your arms wrapping around your knees and your chin resting on them. You tried to relax against the cold, but it found itself harder to do with each minute.

“It’s a bit chilly to be out here isn’t it?”

Your heart stopped in your chest and you turned around to look at who was speaking behind you, one hand in your pocket, ready to use the pepper spray if need be. You saw the person behind the voice step forward.

Tall, muscular, black domino mask on with the signature red and green suit, the yellow ‘R’ evident on his chest. He had dark hair and his physique made him appear a bit older but still seemed like he would be close to your age for sure.

“Shouldn’t you be with the Batman or did you finally get granted privileges?”, you muttered sarcastically.

“That’s funny, but I do go solo sometimes, get a feel of the streets.”, he walked over and stood next to where you were sitting. You felt him sit down with his legs hanging off the ledge of the building. “What are you doing up here? Don’t you have a curfew?”

“I snuck out. Don’t necessarily care what the family tells me.”, you answered him flatly, trying to get out of the conversation as fast as possible.

“I see, well, I’m Robin, what’s your name?”, this guy seemed way too talkative and it kind of bothered you. You just wanted to sit here in silence and this little sidekick had to come up and try to be your friend.

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”, you mentally begged him to say yes, wanting to be alone.

“Depends”

You glared at him, “Depends on what?”, you asked rudely.

“Depends on how this conversation goes.”

“(Y/n).”, you said through clenched teeth, your jaw tightening in annoyance.

He smiled at you before looking back over the city. “That’s a nice name”. He said before he pulled out a small bag. He handed it to you and you looked at it before meeting his eyes again.

“It’s a hand warmer”, you stared for a few seconds, examining the small bag before grabbing it from him and giving a small thank you. The both of you sat in silence, but for some odd reason, it didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. It felt normal, neutral, and calm.

“Why are you up here alone?”, his voice almost seemed like a whisper, before you turned your head looking at him, your hair blowing in your face. “It helps me escape.”. He looked at you, not saying anything while you continued.

“I don't have to think about the world down there, I can just escape reality for a while.”, you felt him looking at you as your eyes scanned the silent city below, hearing a few loud noises every few seconds. “This city hasn’t been kind to me, so being up here lets me escape that I live in this shithole.”

“Would you leave if you could?”, he asked curiously.

“Yeah, I would. If I could hop on a plane and disappear from this city forever I would do it in a heartbeat.”, you felt as though you answered too quickly, but you found happiness in your answer. "The goal has always been to leave."

“Yeah, me too.”

You looked at him and there was something that seemed to flood the air, and right when the moment seemed too perfect to be ruined, you heard a small radio signal. It was probably his cue to leave.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”, he apologized and you just smiled at him, waving a small goodbye. He went to jump off the building before he turned back to you and smiled. “I hope we can meet again soon, (Y/n).”.

And just like that, he was gone. A part of you was glad he was, but another strange part had hoped he could stay a little longer. For the first time since your first days in this city, you felt normal and at peace with having a conversation with someone.

You felt like there was normalcy to your life.

The next few weeks passed the exact same way, you would go to the rooftops, and almost like it was planned, the miraculous boy wonder would show up to converse and joke around. You were still cold towards him, not opening up or saying too much the first few times but after a week or two, you slowly started to open up. He helped give you a sense of peace in your life, you could slowly start trusting him. He would sometimes bring you things and would tell you about all the things he wished he could do once he was old enough to do them.

You both made a pact to pack everything once you were both old enough and leave Gotham for good. Thinking of all the places in the world to visit and being able to go out and see better parts of the world.

The both of you had grown to like each other a lot and create a sort of friendship that was unconventional, but exciting. You had similar interests, same humor, and both equally sarcastic and smartasses.

There was one night when the two of you were talking about how you both grew up. He told you how he lived on the streets and that he got taken in by Batman when he tried stealing the wheels off the Batmobile when he was 12. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing because who in their right mind would steal from Batman?

It was a nice story to laugh over and he told you about his training and how he got lucky to be able to get taken in by someone who genuinely wanted to help him. Your heart softened at his comment because it made you think about the couple who adopted you. You resented them but they had been nothing but good to you, they provided for you and because of them you had food to eat every night, new clothing, got an education, and yet your traumatized heart refused to trust them. Yet, here you were with a stranger you had only met about three months ago and already trusting them more than the people who took you off the streets.

It didn’t make sense but you tried to make it make sense in your head. You let him in on your life on the streets and you didn’t even know what he looked like, let alone his real name. There was comfort in the mystery for you, so it progressed into something more for you, wondering if the same had happened to him.

The two of you stood on the ledge of the building, you heard him mess with something in his belt and extend his hand out to you. You took it and he grabbed his grappling hook before grabbing you tightly, due to his training, you were light enough for him to carry. The wind blew in your face and your heart was pounding through your chest, the adrenaline flooding your body. He laughed out into the night and you followed. He used his feet to crash through the window of an old building and rolled to where you landed on top of him.

You looked down at him, trying to catch your breath, smiling and laughing along with him. You felt him raise his hand up and push your hair behind your ear, your smile still evident on your lips. He smiled back at you, and leaned himself up, the hot air filling the room and in a moment, you felt your whole world come to a stop. He had leaned into you, kissing your lips, and you pressed into him. Your first kiss being shared with a stranger, but was he really? You could consider him a friend now, maybe even more than that if he’d let you.

You both pulled apart and he smiled at you.

Yeah, there was something there.

The nights continued, for months and they were never boring but filled with laughs and stolen kisses. It made you happy. He spent your 15th birthday with you, bought you a small gift, a necklace with a green stone, he said the color reminded him of you and it brought out the color in your (e/c) eyes. There was one night in particular that was forever engraved into your heart. Robin had come back to the rooftop, you sitting by the ledge waiting for him.

“(Y/n), I have to tell you something.”, he seemed frantic, like he was nervous about something. You felt your heart start beating faster, expecting the absolute worst. “W-what is it?”

“I know that we.. we’ve been..seeing each other, and I know you feel the same things that I do.”, your heart couldn’t stop pounding, you were sure he could hear it. “I want to tell you who I am, beneath the mask, beneath the Robin suit. I want us to be able to go out together. I just need to do something else first.”, Your heart seemed to stop. He wanted to tell you his identity? He wanted to be serious with you, take it further. You silently nodded, not knowing what to say at that moment.

“I’ll be gone for a few days, so don’t think I’m abandoning you. It shouldn’t be more than a week, but I promise, when I come back, we’ll get a real date. You’ll know me as… me. I promise, wait for me.”, you looked at him and nodded, your heart filling with content at his words.

He grabbed your face and kissed you and you kissed back.

The moment couldn’t be more perfect than this.

You waited like you promised. You let a week pass by before you started going back to the rooftop again. You would go every night hoping that he would be back from his trip, not exactly knowing when he would be back. The first night passed and he didn’t show up. Then the second, and still a no show.

You were convinced he got held up, maybe his trip was longer than a week and he just got confused.

The third night, then the fourth, fifth, sixth, tenth, a month. 2 months. 3 months. Nothing.

Your heart felt broken, he had promised he would come back.

Why wasn’t he coming?

Did his trip get delayed?

Did something happen?

Why wasn’t he here?

Once it got down to six months, you stopped going back to the roof. On the last day, you stood on the ledge, staring down at the city below you, your mind in shambles wondering where he was. He left. He said he'd come back but he hasn't.

Was this the consequence of trusting him?

Did he realize he didn't want to be around you anymore?

You closed your eyes, lifting a hand to grasp the necklace he'd given you, your chest heavy as you felt the tears pour down your cheeks. Was this the world's cruel way of telling you you'd never get anything good in your life?

Your heart and your trust were completely broken, all because you trusted someone who never came back.

152 notes · View notes

rosedpetal · 6 months ago

Text

Workmates

Summary: Ransom Drysdale has been the essence of hell in your life, and now you two are forced to work together.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Authors note: this is a repost, and it was originally a three part fic.

Warnings: smut at the end.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

Ransom was staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his stupid face. The remains of your coffee were sprawled on the cafeteria floor, on the table, and on your - not anymore - white shirt.

"Jesus, Y/N! Are you okay?" Your boss, Emma, the senior partner of the law firm you worked for, asked you while you put your weight on your hands to get balanced enough to get up. You wanted to scream that no, you were not okay. You fell on your fucking knees after being tripped by Ransom. That son of a...

"I'm fine, really." You mumbled, accepting her hand for help. Emma weirdly looked at Ransom. She was probably confused about why he didn't offer you, a lady, his hand. You almost laughed. Ransom Drysdale was no gentleman, and why would he help you when he was the reason you almost broke your kneecaps?

You sighed, trying not to cry. You didn't spare him a second glance, because you knew that if you did, you would end up kicking his groin.

"You don't seem fine, sweetheart." His condescending voice mocked you. "Perhaps we should have this conversation on another day?"

It would be great for him to have this conversation on another day. He and you were fighting for the same promotion in the firm - and you'd been there for the past three years, while the nepo baby had started a few months prior - and it was being a nerve-wracking competition where he would torment you, and you would try not to react.

So much for having some fucking peace.

You spent years studying hard to get a decent-paying job, one that would make your parents' struggle of having a kid in college worth it. You had to be successful. You owed them that.

And while some of your classmates - Ransom Drysdale and his obnoxious rich buddies - partied and failed assignment after assignment, you almost went crazy doing everything you could to get your law degree and pass the bar exam.

You still couldn't get a grasp on how Ransom passed the bar. Back then, he never seemed the studious type, and he never gave you a second glance either - the girl in the front seat, face buried in books, making notes and asking questions all the damn time. You didn't pleasantly catch his eye, either. Most of your female classmates had tans for spending weekends on sunny beaches, had better wardrobes than you, and could have meals without feeling guilty because the money spent on it wouldn't make a difference in their bank accounts.

You envied them. But most of the time, you couldn't be allowed to feel sorry for yourself when there was such a long journey to complete.

It was for the best, in the end. You got into a renowned law firm and paid off your student loans. With your new income, you could finally afford a good apartment, treat your parents and give yourself luxuries you never dreamed about.

And just after you finally started thriving, Ransom fucking Drysdale got a job offer at the same firm, and he dared to look surprised when he saw you working there.

You were the one who should be surprised. Ransom was a total airhead - and that was a compliment. How the fuck a lazy rich man-child passed the fucking bar when he didn't bother even attending classes?

Why is life so fucking unfair?

“You dozed off a little, sweetheart." Ransom stated while you stared at Emma.

"I think we should have this conversation now, I can just put a sweater over my shirt." You tried to put on a calm voice but you cringed at how you sounded distressed.

Damn right you were about to cry.

"Hmm, okay." Emma stared at the two of you back and forth. She was too damn smart to not see through your poor excuse of a friendly façade with Ransom, but she was also kind enough to not say a thing about it.

"I gave it a thought, and while you, Hugh, are way above the expectations for your lack of experience; Y/N's been the top attorney of this firm for years. It's not really a fair comparison."

It's really fucking not, Emma! You wanted to yell at her face but forced a smile at the compliment.

"So, I had this amazing idea." she continued, and you started to panic. While Emma was brilliant she could be so naive with her ideas. She looked at you. "You get the promotion and take Hugh under your wing. You'll work on your cases together, and he gets more experience... What do you think?

Before you could answer her, Ransom smiled like a kid in a candy shop.

"We're gonna work so well together, Y/N!" The bastard grinned. "Thank you for the opportunity, Emma, it means the world to me."

You wished the earth opened up and swallowed you up.

Your new office was way bigger, just as much as the dread in your veins. It had a nice view of Boston from your giant glass windows, and you couldn't even enjoy it because of your new work buddy.

"Good morning, boss!" His voice chanted behind you, and you turned to face him, angrily. "Why the face? Didn't get your coffee this morning?"

You breathed in, out, in, out. Maybe if you counted to ten, you wouldn't throw him out the window. You pictured the noise his body would make once it hit the ground, and suddenly, you were in a lighter mood.

"No, a little bitch tripped me and I couldn't enjoy it. But I just know you're going to be a sweetheart and get me another one." You pronounced the word 'sweetheart' with vengeance.

"How do you like your coffee, sweetheart?" He mimicked and smiled at you, unfazed.

Oh, the realization hit you. He was totally gonna spit on your precious coffee.

"Nevermind, I'm not in the mood for coffee anymore." You answered him quickly, trying to ignore his disturbing existence and adjusting your things. You were an organized person, and all the files of your current cases were organized inside a big archive box.

You sat on your new chair and placed your laptop on your new desk while Ransom was still staring at you like a moron.

"What?" Your voice came out harsher than you intended.

"Just thinking. I should've given you more attention in college. Maybe I would be sitting on your chair and you would be the one fantasizing about spitting on my coffee."

You snorted and he looked at you, amused. You were caught off guard too.

After that little moment, the first day working with him went by surprisingly well. You went over cases, spoke with clients and he took everything in gracefully. You were still mad at him, how couldn't you be? He was a fucking brat, and he was an ass with you for no reason.

Well, he had a reason but it wasn't a good motive. He tried to bully you to quit, how fucked up in the head that could be? If work was high school, Hugh Ransom Drysdale would be the mean cheerleader captain.

When you were about to leave for the day, grabbing your coat and your bag, Ransom stopped you.

"Hey, wanna have a drink tonight?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Absolutely fucking not, Drysdale."

He just shrugged, and you went straight home.

After a few weeks, Ransom started growing on you. On a particularly rough morning, when a client was being a pain on your and Ransom's existences, he brought you coffee after noticing you were on the verge of crying.

"Don't let it get to you, Y/N. God knows I don't." He offered with a tight smile. You were too tired to make a snarky comment about him being an actually decent human being, so you just sipped on your coffee before you went full sobbing.

Those damned female hormones.

Ransom cleared his throat.

"Ok, this is awkward." He clarified. Between crying and sniffing, you weren't really surprised at how emotionally stunted Ransom was.

It was comical. He stood there, not knowing what to do. And then, he patted your head.

He actually patted your head. Like you were a fucking dog. You were so stunned at the gesture that you didn't even realize it when you started laughing.

You threw your head back, new tears forming on your eyes. You laughed so hard that your tummy hurt.

Ransom laughed with you too. Like genuinely laughing. Who would say such a thing could happen?

You rolled over, grabbing your front and trying to catch your breath.

You didn't notice, but you started growing on him too.

Your work dynamics with Ransom were almost perfect. You finally felt like you could trust him to do some work on his own, so you let him be on some paperwork while you finished others.

The weather began to get chilly by the end of your office hours and Ransom invited you to his place to get over a file again, to which you stupidly agreed. So you followed his car, getting a little anxious.

When he finally pulled over, you were quite surprised at how cozy the two-story house looked. It wasn't something you expected for a single man.

He even had a white fence!

He smiled at you when you walked through the door, taking in the dim lights, the fireplace in the living room, and his big kitchen. You wondered if he cooked his own meals.

"Wine?" He offered, already pouring a bottle of some expensive delicacy you've never tasted. You only bought cheap drinks, maybe too worried to spend so much money on such a frivolous thing after how you struggled financially growing up.

"Just a glass, I don't wanna get dizzy." You accepted the glass in his extended hand and took a little sip.

You never even read the file you were supposed to.

Ransom started to babble about how he bought this home after passing the bar exam, excited to start a new journey in his life, where he could be his own person and have something he achieved for himself, instead of working with his grandfather for the rest of his life.

Listening to his life story, his fucked up family, and how he self-doubted he could actually succeed without their money and connections made you feel a little more sympathetic toward him.

Because while you resented him for having the life you only dreamed of, his privileges got in his way of flourishing. And despite all of your struggles, you had loving parents that nurtured you into the woman you were now.

"Do you know I used to despise you?" You let the words slip off your mouth before you could stop them. "You infuriated me. I hated how carefree you were in college because you could fail and you would still have new opportunities. It was my only chance. I worked so hard, and then I saw you at the firm and..."

He looked at you, expectantly.

"I doubted you. And after Emma stated that the promotion was for me or you, and you began to make my work hours a living hell, I even contemplated looking for another job."

Ransom scoffed.

"I wasn't that bad."

"Say that to my knees, Ransom."

He chuckled.

"If it makes it better, I didn't think you were going to get hurt."

You lifted your brown and sipped on your wine, emptying the glass. He reached for the bottle to pour more, but you stopped him by putting your hand over his. His eyes moved to yours, and then to your lips.

He didn't hesitate when your lips reached for his, eager and passionate. Your body began moving to its own accord, straddling his lap on the leather couch, his hands on your waist, groping your ass, on the back of your neck pulling your hair to leave a trail of wet kisses on your jaw, neck, collarbones...

You yelped when he ripped your white blouse, buttons flying everywhere. He cupped your breasts over your bra, savoring your beautiful body over him.

"You have no idea of how much I fantasized about this, Y/N" His breath fanned your ear, and he sucked on your earlobe, almost taking your earring off. You let out a little gasp when his hands reached under your skirt. "I always knew the promotion was yours. But seeing you mad was such a turn-on."

Your eyes shot open. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"I wasn't just mad, Drysdale. I was having the worst time of my life since college! I can't believe you right now" You got off his lap easily, and he didn't try to stop you.

"Don't be like that, Y/N, I already apologized-" He started, but you cut him off quickly:

"And just because you said your sorry words it means everything is fixed, uh?" You scoffed at him, grabbing your bag on the kitchen counter. "See you on Monday, asshole."

You stormed off his house, ready to drown in regret for kissing him.

Because now that you did, you couldn't get the tingling feeling off your lips and the longing for more.

You were dreading the moment you'd have to get up from your bed and go to work. The weekend went by really quick, but also really slow (the waves of anxiety tormenting your thoughts were responsible for that).

Monday morning, after brushing your teeth angrily, sipping on your tea angrily, and almost tearing the zipper of your favorite pencil skirt, you took a breath and asked yourself why you were so worried. Ransom wasn't really that important (except he was, and not even you could deny it for much longer).

You were angry at yourself. That night you were at his place, drank his wine, and also, you made the first move. When have you become so bold?

And then, you snapped at him and had to become sexually frustrated too.

It's like I hate myself or something, you thought, grabbing the designer bag Emma gave you on your birthday and putting your belongings in it.

Maybe I should just quit, move to another country and start a new life. Okay, you were being too dramatic, but how could you face him now?

You weren't brazen like Ransom. For all you knew about him, he could kick a puppy on the street and go on with his life like nothing happened later.

But you? You calculated your life at the smallest details, meticulously navigating through all your milestones and you never strayed. You tried to be the nicest person on the earth, because life was already hard as it was. You couldn't just snap one day and let it all go down to drain.

"Why that face, Y/N?" One of your colleagues asked when you entered the building. You bit the remark on your tongue and just said you had too much to drink the night before.

Jesus. You had a resting bitch face. Should you get botox?

Almost getting lost in your thoughts (you couldn't really ignore the anxiousness at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to spill back the contents of your breakfast), you got in the elevator, pressed the button to your floor, and let your back rest against the metal doors.

The door opened, and your gaze lowered to your black scarpins. Ransom cleared his throat, mouthing a low "good morning". You held your breath when his cologne filled your nostrils. It seemed ten times stronger now, hitting you with vengefulness.

Why did he have to smell so good? You never noticed a man's perfume before, they all seemed pretty much the same to you, and you never noticed Ransom's either until recently.

Until you were straddling his lap, getting intoxicated by it.

"Did someone steal your teddy bear or something?" He asked abruptly, turning to face you. "Can we not be awkward right now?"

"It's too late for that." You replied in a weird voice, shifting the weight of your feet to the other. Ransom rolled his eyes.

"And why the hell are you so pale? When was the last time you ate?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose in your thumb and index finger. You just ate, he's just being an asshole, Y/N, you reminded yourself.

"Are you seriously gonna pretend I'm not talking to you right now? How can you-"

"Ransom, SHUT UP!" You yelled, surprising you both with the tone of your voice. "Sorry, I just- can we not do this right now?"

He sighed. When you reached the floor of your office, Ransom went first, stomping his feet. You almost smiled, he was such a child.

As he walked in front of you, you couldn't help but notice his peachy bottom.

"Were you checking me out just right now?"

"Yeah, you could use some squats." You stopped daydreaming and replied in a sassy tone, putting your bag on your desk and crossing your arms on your chest. Your eyes reached his and your expression softened. "Look, Ransom, I'm so sorry about that night. I shouldn't have done that, I'm so mortified. That was really uncalled for. And unprofessional. I understand if you want to go to HR and get me a complaint." You word-vomited, speaking so fast that if he wasn't paying attention he wouldn't get a thing of what you just said.

His eyes widened and he gave you a short, humorless laugh.

"Why the hell would I do that to you, woman? I was giving you signs the whole evening. I wanted that for so long, and I'm so fucking mad at you right now for apologizing for the wrong reason!"

"Ransom, I-" You tried to reason, but he cut you off.

"No, you shut your fucking mouth now, Y/N. I even gave you space because I didn't want you to feel pressured or anything. Do you have any idea how many times I tried to text just to never press 'send'? And now you apologize for kissing me? You should apologize for leaving me with a damn boner-"

"Lower your voice!" You half whispered half yelled at him, looking around to see if anyone heard what he said. His jaw clenched, and he got closer to you. When you were face to face, he punctuated in a low tone:

"I'm tired of your bullshit. Do you think having your whole life planned will get you everything you want? I see a frustrated woman who can't let her guard down and can't even get laid".

His breath was mixing with yours, words cruelly spit, and you felt your nostrils flare with anger. He kept going as if he didn't humiliated you enough:

"It's actually for the best. You're probably a bad fuck, anyway."

You turned on your heels with balled fists on your sides and chose to ignore him, otherwise, you would really give him a reason to go to HR.

The two of you were back to square one. He would be a little shit to you, and you would try your best not to punch his face. You were glad he was your protégée and not the other way around - you didn't like to think what he could do to you in a position of power.

On lunch break, you got yourself a salad with grilled chicken, not really hungry. As you sat to eat with one of your work friends at the restaurant across the street from the building, you spotted Ransom talking to a woman from another floor. She was twisting one of her locks in her finger and laughing at something he was saying. You rolled your eyes, scoffing, and went back to eat your salad.

"He's so hot" Lizzie sighed, daydreaming. "How can you work with him and not be head over heels?"

"Just talk to him for a minute and you'll know why." You seethed and chewed on your lettuce.

"That lady over there seems quite fond of him." She went on, not picking on your mood shift. "Look at that nice piece of ass over there! And those muscles under those sweaters? I'd let him choke me to death with those arms".

"Please, shut up." You begged. "I'm about to throw up".

"Stop being a prude." She rolled her eyes at you. "Oh, that bitch is so lucky, she's probably thinking about-"

"Oh my God, Elizabeth, I'm not eating with you anymore." You interrupted her monologue and she eyed you curiously.

"What's your deal with him? You two slept together or something?" You didn't dignify her with an answer and her eyes widened. "Oh God! You totally did-"

"Shush!" You pressed your index finger on her lips. "We didn't, but we kissed. And this conversation is over. I refuse to talk about it ever again."

You must've sound really serious, because she actually dropped the subject.

With a blink of your eye, the week was over. Your interactions with Ransom were getting more mechanical and since you showed no interest in engaging with his childish games he stopped disturbing your peace.

Lizzie respected your wish to not talk about Ransom for longer than you expected, just bringing the topic once to coerce you to go out with her Friday night.

And that was the reason you were wearing a shiny pink bodycon dress with thin straps and white high heels, in a long ass line to get inside a shady dance club. Lizzie was talking nonstop in your ear, and you just listened, bored and in need of a drink.

When you finally got in, she dragged you to a booth and ordered cocktails for you two.

"Let's get you loosened up to drop the constipated face!" She yelled over the music and you glared at her angrily, sipping on your glass and probably making a face.

"What the hell?" You weren't drinking that. God, that was so disgusting, whatever that drink was made of it was fucking terrible. You got up to the bar to get something else, and then, you saw him.

Ransom was sitting with his friends and with a pretty brunette stuck on his side, almost on his lap. He must've felt your gaze on him, because he turned his head and he locked eyes with you.

Fuck.

Okay, you weren't a coward. You could play it cool. Breaking eye contact, you went to the bar and ordered a piña colada, and as you were waiting for your drink, you felt someone's hand touching your arm.

Sighing, you looked back, ready to fight the asshole who was touching you without your permission.

Your jaw almost dropped when you saw Ransom with a smirk on his face.

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, haven't you heard? I'm a terrible fuck." You grinned and he laughed, his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, probably from drinking.

"One of my buddies over there asked if you were single."

"Oh. I'm not interested" you stated.

"Don't worry, I told him that you have gonorrhea."

Your blood boiled.

"What? Are you insane, Drysdale? I'm going to fucking sue you, you stupid son of a bitch!" You index finger were on his face and he broke in a fit of laughter, his hand resting on his stomach.

"I'm just kidding, god, your face!" He managed to say between his stupid giggles. You rolled your eyes and went to the booth to find Lizzie.

How could someone be so insufferable? It was like a gift.

"I'm offended that you didn't like my drink." Lizzie pouted at you, already drunk. Yeah, you could see how the night was going to end. You holding her hair while she emptied her stomach on the toilet.

"Girl, take it easy." You rolled your eyes. "You won't believe who I just saw".

"Mr. Drysdale?"

"Yeah, how did you know? Oh." You barely finished your sentence and she moved her head, pointing to him, sitting in front of you in your booth. "You don't fucking give up, do you?"

"Can we talk?"

"No!"

"Yes."

You looked at Lizzie, feeling betrayed. She got up and left you alone with him, that little bitch.

"Okay, Drysdale, humor me."

"I miss you?"

"It sounds like a question, not an statement." You shook your head to him. "And don't you have an arm candy waiting for you over there?"

The girl he was with minutes ago stared at you with bitterness, her crimson red lips curled in a thin line.

His eyebrow rose. "Am I detecting a hint of jealousy?"

"In your dreams, Drysdale. Just thought you'd like to go back to her, since she's marching over here looking royally pissed."

When Ransom turned his head to look, she was already throwing her drink on his face.

"You are the worst date ever!" She screamed and left, stomping her feet like she was throwing a tantrum.

Serves him right for going out with a girl that barely looked old enough to drink.

You folded your arms over your chest and smiled at him. His hair was wet, and the drink was dripping from his chin, also wetting his shirt.

You were wrong, going out tonight was totally worth it.

Somehow, you, Lizzie and Ransom left the club together.

Well, more like he was helping you carry the woman and get her taken care of.

Without complaining (for your surprise), Ransom secured Lizzie in his arms while she threw up on the street outside of the club whilst you held her hair; got an Uber for you guys and helped you put her in the backseat; picked her up bridal style while you searched for her keys on her JW Pei bag; tuck her in bed gently while you got a glass of water and aspirin for her and left them on her nightstand.

You two mumbled good night to Lizzie, and she replied in drunk gibberish.

When you left her apartment, you locked the door on the outside and slipped the key back inside under it.

And just like that, you two were alone, and you suddenly became aware of that and the silence.

Ransom's hair was a little messy, but you never thought of him so handsome as he was in that moment. His blue eyes bored into yours like a silent plead.

You wondered if you two would ever understand each other.

It seemed like hours, but only seconds have passed. His body got closer to yours, and he grabbed your middle, pulling you into him. You let out a little whimper when his forehead rested into yours, noses touching.

"Please, don't run away now." He begged, his voice hoarse. His skin was a little sticky, probably from the sugary drink thrown on him earlier.

You answered by claiming his lips with yours.

You moaned softly, feeling your lips swollen. Ransom kissed you breathless, unlocking his front door and dragging you inside with him. He pulled you by the back of your thighs to straddle his hips and squeezed your ass cheeks roughly. The hem of your mini dress was already rolled up to your stomach, giving him free access.

You knew you wouldn't be able to get to his bedroom.

He lowered you into his leather couch, taking his shirt off the next second. You bit your lip while taking him in - he looked like a damn god.

Fuck my life, you thought.

Driven by lust, you grabbed him by his belt and clumsily unbuckled it, cussing at it. He chuckled lowly and helped you, lowering his jeans of his toned legs along with his boxers. You felt your mouth water at the sight of his cock: long, thick, hard and leaking for you.

You looked at him through your eyelashes and moistened him with your saliva, rolling your tongue sinfully on the red tip while he watched you with a clenched jaw, using his hands to put your hair on a ponytail.

"You did not learn how to suck dick like a pro until after college, that's for sure." He mocked you, and you pinched the inside of his thigh. Ransom hissed at you, and completed: "''Cause you were too busy studying to practice thiiiiis-" He moaned, curling his toes when you finally took him in your mouth the best you could.

You felt your panties getting wetter and your jaw ache. You bobbed your head, slowly at first, getting used to his thickness. Your dominant hand jerked the rest of him off, and the other grabbed his butt to force him deeper into your throat.

You drooled all over your chin, feeling tears prick on your eyes when he picked up the pace and face-fucked you. You gagged and tried your best to breathe through your nose, while Ransom let the dirtiest sequence of curses leave his mouth.

He stopped the assault on your throat abruptly, and lift your body up by your hair slowly.

"I'm gonna cum on that sweet mouth some other time, I need to be inside of you now." He sat you on the couch and pulled your dress off your body.

He kissed you again, impatient this time, lowering his hand to your panties and ripping them. He threw the destroyed lace on the floor and rubbed his fingers on your slickness, lubricating his fingers. He slipped one inside of you and you moaned at the entrance, massaging his tongue with yours.

He added another finger and curled them inside of you, earning a gasp from you. You screamed when Ransom started scissoring you in a fast pace, unprepared for it. Your high was building fast, and you came on his fingers, getting his hand wet with your juices.

"Fuck fuck fuck" You cried out when he didn't stop, convulsing again and sobbing on his mouth. He retreated his fingers from you and laid you on the couch, then stroked his cock with his hand, rubbing the tip on your clit. You moaned and he sank on you, making you tense with the intrusion.

Slowly, he bottomed you out. He grabbed your hips, and your legs wrapped around him, urging him to move.

He moved back.

And slammed back in.

You cried out in surprise, while he fastened his pace and fucked you good.

"Yes baby, this fucking cunt is mine now." He groaned and rubbed your clit with his thumb, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it".

"It's yours-oh God-" You cried out. Ransom showed you no mercy while he fucked you, making your insides burn and build that familiar coil again. His hips snapped into yours with vengeance, making your eyes roll back on your skull. No sound left your mouth when you came again, shaking. Ransom pulled out and came on your stomach, making the sexiest sounds you've ever heard from a man before.

He fell on your side, calming his breathing. Ransom threw his arm around you and kissed your temple gently.

"We're gonna take a bath and find out a way to tell Emma that we're a thing now".

You smiled, closing your eyes and hoping he would carry you to that bath, because there's no way you could walk now.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #cevans character #chris evans character fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale fluff

94 notes · View notes

mtkay13 · 1 year ago

Text

The one and only Qi Ye trio!

Details on the painting, meta and more below!

So this piece is actually a "remake" of a much older drawing that I made right after I had finished reading Qi Ye:

First, I want to elaborate on the drawing itself. I usually don't like to detail the symbolism and ideas that I put in my art, simply because I don't want to impose a reading and I'd rather everyone gets their own; but following some discussions I have decided to do so for this one.

The main theme of this illustration is glory, power, and the ascention towards it. The principal symbol of it is, of course, the stairs going up. I used light, directly, colours and positioning to signify each character's relationship to those themes.

Helian Yi is the one in the light, ascending upwards, in red clothing. Helian Yi's power, as future emperor, is in the light, visible, going towards the heavens as the son of heaven himself--to enact his heavenly duty. Part of his face is in the shadows, and his being casts a broad shadow behind him for, of course, a lot has to happen in the shadows for him to reach the throne. He's looking behind as his ascension comes with dread and paranoia, never being able to fully trust anyone.

Zhou Zishu is entirely in the shadows, doesn't exist in the light. He's standing tall on the stairs but not facing upwards because his own way towards power isn't following the traditional path of having one's name being remembered in historical records. He is at his most powerful concealed in the shadows and doesn't look directly, his gaze unreadable.

Jing Beiyuan is sitting on the stairs, uninterested with the climb towards power itself, uninterested in the glory. The thin line of light on his figure means that among Helian Yi's closest allies, he's the one using his title and influence; light grazes him even if he doesn't want it to. His presence in Helian Yi's shadow signifies how he, along with Zishu, is quite literally behind HLY's ascension. His gaze is knowingly directed towards the watcher.

The main reason I decided to repaint it was because I wanted it to match my current style and, more importantly, my current mental image/character design for them. Jing Qi barely changed since my idea of him was fairly clear from the start, but Helian Yi and Zishu went through much bigger changes.

For Helian Yi, it was mainly a question from taking him out of Jin Wang's robes to get him his own. I really like Jin Wang's wardrobe in SHL, which is why I initially wanted it for HLY, but nowadays it simply doesn't correspond to how I picture him anymore. My understanding and/or envisioning of Da Qing's fashion has changed a bit as well, so I wanted to reflect that. In the original, he more seemed like a kid in vaguely chique robes that were too big for him LOL. His face was afforded a bit of refinement as well, especially since my big Qi Ye spread.

Jing Qi's robes are just a tad less flashy somehow--which wasn't so much planned as just... another design I had in mind. I still really like the first version of the robes but, oh well. His face is a bit more defined now, and overall more details in the quality of his clothing and in his hair piece.

Zhou Zishu...... well, haha. His original design was quite unpolished--a vague mix of SHL!Zishu and some random hakama I barely worked on. He was also very slim and had big eyes, which I just don't see anymore. He's bigger now, by quite a bit, both in height and musculature, and I made him look just a bit older as well--simply because he is older than HLY and JBY by a few years. I much prefer his current expression which is a tad more vicious but also a bit harder to read (I think). His robes, hair shape are much better defined and thought-out, and I am happy with the subtle shading on his face.

That's it!! Thanks for readiinngggg as always!

#qi ye meta #qi ye #helian yi #jing beiyuan #zhou zishu

399 notes · View notes

xanderisbraindead · 1 year ago

Text

I see people that are tryna get into emo and scene fashion make posts ab like needing help finding clothes or like styling their hair n the liek so I’m here to help. Who am I? Nobody but im like scenemo and very happy to help. Im gonna make a resource masterlist, starting with this post

It’s important to note that if you have the hair, anything you wear will look emo. Emo teens would really just wear just some normal clothing and it fucked! Keep that in mind

How do I find emo/scene clothes?

🇺🇸🇬🇧Check resale sites like depop, ebay, mercari, poshmark (mercari is not available in the uk). You CANNOT build a wardrobe overnight. You just cant. Be patient and just keep checking, I promise you will find something. Heres some things I’ve personally bought or found on these sites and the price usd just for reference (without shipping)// Beetlejuice striped ht skinnies $16.49// We the kings shirt $5.50// All time low shirt $5.50//Red plaid ht skinnies $10.50// Famous star and stripe shirt $5-10// Secondhand serenade shirt $10// A lot of fellow scene and emo ppl resell on these sites!! (Trashmob has a depop for example, so does oliver sykes???)

2-Thrifting. Ik you’re probably tired of hearing it bc duh but… =) Try some local thrifts, big companies either suck, are expensive or both. I’d buy my skinnies from here. Reminder that they don’t have to be black!! You can style black, white, blue, any color of jean. Even styles like flair or bootcut jeans.

🇺🇸HT REPLAY. NOBODY TALKS AB THIS. Hot topic has a thredup, they sell preloved clothing and its constantly updated. Its very discounted. For example a shirt that was initially $25 usd would be sold for $11-9 usd. This is as far as ik only in the us??

Diy, obv. Look at those. Aren’t they cool looking? Not being able to afford band merch doesn’t make you any less of a fan than ppl with huge collections, remember that.

🇺🇸🇬🇧Dont be afraid to check normal stores like target, tk maxx, and walmart, you’ll be surprised. Target has cute character jackets if you can fit kids sizes and walmart made that skeleton sweater vest they gotta have more up their sleeves.

🇺🇸Merchnow.com. They have HEAVENLY old band merch and posters. Like ptv, chiodos, sws, tdwp, coheed and cambria, before today, texas in july, even like icp. this might be a us only thing? If someone could check for me ilys

(Added on Nov 8 23)

🇬🇧Grindstore.com they’re like merchnow kinda, heavenly band merch

(Added April 29 24)

🇺🇸🇬🇧 Childrens clothes if you can fit into them a lot of childrens clothing are very good for a scene look

This is all I have for now, but if i come up with anything else I’ll definitely update this!!

#my post #emo #rawring 20s #emo revival #rawring twenties #emo boy #emo kid #scenemo #emo fashion #scene fashion #scemo #alt fashion #alternative fashion #2000s fashion #2000s scene

244 notes · View notes

hanihazeljade · 4 months ago

Text

Three Events

Tim had three events that had planned for the day. The tailor, Tamara Fox and the graves of his parents, and there is some surprises.

CW: cursing

Part 4 of Three Weeks

Prev - Three Hopes

Next - Three Settings

The dinner was chaotic.

Cassandra announced to everyone that Tim is going to sing at her wedding and Tim just kept on declining that offer, as he definitely did not agree on that but with enough joint force and egging of Jason and Damian, he agreed. Like he has a choice.

Tim doesn’t want to be in the centre, the spotlight, but he got a compromise that he will only sing in their wedding dance and he gets to be Cassandra’s man of honour. He will fight that position with tooth and nail, but apparently Cass’ already reserved that spot to him. Well he is very grateful that he doesn’t need to fight someone then.

As the chaos of him singing live in the wedding, Jason decided to fan the flames by saying Timothy doesn’t have anything to wear for the wedding and in the most Wayne thing, they got reserved tomorrow for the fitting. No, Tim has a dress to wear for the wedding, thank you very much, but ever since when his opinion has any value in this household.

He is slowly regretting leaving his serene life in Hokkaido. Just doing freelance modelling and photography to make him afford a large house for himself, and also his hard earned syphoned money from the funds that he rather not say.

The morning came before he could even open his eyes, his door was knocked at a vigorous pace and he decided to go back to sleep while pretending that he was still in Japan and he was not back in Gotham. But god forbid he wanted one day for himself, the knocks became louder and shouts were also accompanying the loud bangs on his door, and everyone wanted nothing else but his attention.

He didn’t answer the door but rather just walked towards the bathroom. He tried to wake his mortal body up and thankfully, cold showers do wonders to your sleepy soul and after he washed his face, he could finally stop thinking of ways of escaping back to Japan.

He was cleansing his face when he heard his door was blown open. He rolled his eyes at this family’s antics and continued to do his morning routine. Not everyone is effortlessly pretty, Richard.

He wore his dark green robe when he went out of the bathroom. The scene that he witnessed is something weird even in Gotham’s taste. And that says a lot for a city with a clown as a main terrorist.

Richard and Jason were fighting over something that he rather not comprehend. Damian was sneering at his brothers. Alfred was looking over his wardrobe to see what he should wear to this tailor’s visit. The lovebirds and Bruce were out of sight.

He went to Alfred and he was given a black cashmere turtleneck and khaki trousers. He thanks the man and goes back to his bathroom, because just because those mutts don't have any dignity, he should throw his dignity out of the window.

He came out and was instructed to sit down on his bed and Alfred put socks and shoes to his feet, like a delicate maiden. He is embarrased by this, like what in the actual fuck? He can put on his own shoes, Alfred, he is not a kid. Not anymore.

But he just let Alfred to just do it, let his old heart be spoiled. As he was being pampered by the old butler, he watched the chaos of Dick Grayson and Jason Todd in his vanity and he rather not want his things to be in the crossfire of the two idiots.

He was ready to go but Dick gave him a red scarf, Jason gave him a black hat, Damian put on a white earmuff and Cass gave him red gloves. And finally, they were on their way to the tailor. He wants to drive by himself as he also planned to visit Tam on Wayne Enterprise, but as he states that, Damian suggests that the two of them just ride together as he was also going later in the Wayne Enterprise. Tim didn’t think too much about it and he agreed.

Thank all the deities above as he was not stuck in awkward silence with Damian as he was knocked out five minutes in. He would normally be worried what will Damian do to him while sleeping, but he was now just Tim Drake, a past of the Waynes and a replaced member, but he was awakened by the gentle shakes of Damian.

He already has something to wear but maybe he should just change later in the reception with the dress that he brought from Japan. They were escorted to the purple section and he was shoved by at least three different purple suits. Fuck him.

After an hour of fitting different suits, he settled on a purple mandarin collar suit with gold accents. He paid for that discreetly, because god forbid, he is not a trust fund baby anymore. The suit will be delivered to the Manor and he is good to go.

Damian takes him to the Wayne Enterprise and he dashed out as he used his nepotism to find where Tam is so he can proceed to his plan of just pissing her off. He still doesn’t tell her anything about him being back in Gotham. She will kill him, absolutely, no doubt.

But fate is a bitch and he was mistaken as a model and he just doesn’t say anything, he is going on billboards and magazines, so that is going to be amazing, and he can add this to his portfolio. He was wearing a white collared polo with bow tie and black slacks. It was paired with black and white floral coat, and also the star product, the silk socks with black platform shoes.

This was a productive day and it will be more productive if he somehow meets Tam. And he did, at the cafeteria of Wayne Enterprise. No, Tim is not ordering a meal but rather just an espresso. Tam bought an ice coffee and then she proceeded to smack Tim upside in the head.

Tamara looked at him with disgust on her face, “Let’s talk in my office, you bitch.” and then she hugged Tim for a second.

Tim rolled his eyes, “I miss you too, dear.” as he grabbed his wallet and got his card.

“Pay for my coffee.” Tam said as she looks at him as if she’s thinking on how to kill Tim for not informing her.

And Tim loves his life so he just agreed, “Sure.”

After they receive their respective coffees, they go to Tam’s office to catch up.

Tam sat at her seat at her desk, “So, what is up? Took you seven years to come back.” she rolled her eyes, still kind of upset on having to be surprised that Tim is here in Gotham.

Tim approached the desk and sat halfway on it, “Cass is being married, can’t miss that, even to sacrifice my peaceful life in Japan.” he sulked, as much as he would rather have his life in Hokkaido, but he also love to see Cass walking down the aisle.

Tam chuckled, “You still a selfless bitch, I see.”

“I am not.” Tam looked at him with a sceptical stare.”I know my worth, darling. I am not a yes man anymore.” Tim said smugly.

“Of course, you are not.” Tam rolled her eyes, not believing every single thing Tim just said. She tidied up her desk as she asked, “I am basically done with my stuff, wanna have lunch with me?”

Tim brightened up with the idea, “The sushi place near here is still up?” Japan has good restaurants but eating sushi in your hometown will always taste better than ever. Nothing can beat the chemical infused fish of Gotham.

Tam nodded, “Yep. So, sushi?” Sushi lunches were one of their traditions every two weeks back when Tim worked on Wayne Enterprise. And it was really cheap for a conveyor-belt sushi place.

“Why not.” Tim shrugged but inside he was giddily as he would visit that place, the sushi in Japan is fresh and amazing, but he missed eating it with pollution and whatever chemicals in the waters of Gotham.

Tamara and Timothy walked to the sushi place as the place is like a 10-minute walk to the Wayne Enterprise. Tim was already telling the godforsaken accident earlier.

“And they thought that I was a model, for god sake! I feel bad for the supposed model.” Tim narrates animatedly, with hands on the air and expressions are wide, something he picked up from watching too much anime.

Tam hummed, “Oh, right. You do modelling in Japan, I forgot.”

Tim joked, “Apparently my malnourished body is a standard of fashion in Japan. But work I guess.” Then he bumped Tam’s shoulder.

Tam giggled, “If it works, it works.”

The two continued to catch up as they started to have their fill of sushi. This is fun, the best Tim had for the past days, he was here. Tam and him might end their impromptu engagement with a slap and cold words but as Tim works in the Wayne Enterprise, Tam learned to be civil around him and they developed a strong friendship.

And also he missed having to just laugh with someone who knows everything he's been through that year. He doesn’t hide anything with Tam, Tam also doesn’t hide anything from him, especially her recent fascination with the resident bald baddie who is good with guns.

As the two exited the establishment, a familiar face greeted Timothy and Tamara. The only one that made it above his hatred of Ra’s Al Ghul, the one and only Vicky Vale.

“Mister Drake and Miss Fox, are you rekindling the fire that once lost?” Vicky didn’t try to hide her intention and asked the question straight on. But instead of letting her get into his nerves, he just laughed, making Vicky Vale’s eyebrows meet.

“No, no, no. I love Tam as much as a mother could love her aborted child.” Timothy said with a smile and Tam just snorted beside him, “and sometimes we need to learn that rekindling a fire with soaked wood will never sparked a fire.”

Vicky Vale was taken aback by the “aborted child” comment, definitely not expecting such an answer from the well-mannered Timothy Drake back then, and asked another dumb question, “Why are you back in Gotham after seven years?”

“I just love Gotham so much that I might want to try some polluted air as the air in other countries is so pure and clean, I thought it would cure my lungs!” Timothy said with full of cheer in his voice, but Tam already saw through his bullshit as she started laughing.

Tam took a big breath and she leaned into the recorder Vale has, “And I am very much happy simping to my dearest beloved that wouldn’t want to accept my love proposals but I would not give up. Right, Tim?”

Tim just hugged her and patted her back, “That is right, do not give up Tam! It will get accepted someday!”

“This is why you are the only bitch I respect.” Tam said as the two walked back to the Wayne Enterprise, leaving a stunned Vicky Vale on the sidewalk. Vicky couldn’t believe, Timothy Drake and Tamara Fox are still friends after the break up and Timothy is supportive of Tamara’s new venture of love. This is not a big scoop but she still has some information to bloom.

++++++

Tim dropped Tam off the Wayne building as he wanted to visit his parents. The visit was long overdue.

He walked to the nearest flower shop to buy some lilies and peonies as that was his mother’s favourite. And it was a stapled flower in the household of Drake. Even if his parents are out of the country, he still bought flowers every week just in case his parents come home unexpectedly.

He hailed a cab and told him to take him to Gotham Cemetery. It was a long 25 minute ride, and during that time, his hands felt clammy and he was nervous. He doesn’t know what to say to his resting parents. He… He abandoned them. He is such a bad child.

As he was walking the cobblestone pathway towards his parents' graves, his chest began to feel heavy, he didn’t visit them for so many years and as he took the final step to be in front of the two gravestones, he put on a smile and gave the flowers to them.

“Hey Mom, hey Dad. I miss you.” Tim starts, “I was in Japan, escaping my problems here, so I am really sorry not to tell you before. You must feel that I abandoned you.” Tim couldn’t help it as tears began to cascade to his cheeks. “I am sorry for leaving but I did it for my own good, because I know if I stay here, I will break and nobody could fix me, so I left and started a new life with my old broken one. But I managed to heal myself there.”

Tim sat down between his parents’ grave, and caressed both of their gravestones, “I am so much happy now, more confident in me, and more pretty.” Tim chuckled as his own joke, his mother will love that one. “I came back here for Cass’ wedding, she is a sister to me. I gave her your wedding clip, Mom. I hope you don’t mind. I mean it is not like I can wear it in my wedding and I am not marrying a woman, for now at least.”

And Tim started to tell his parents everything he’ve been through. Everything that he now accomplished and everything he experienced. He knows that if he told this to his parents back when they were alive, he would get smacked for being an idiot and then get hugged for all the hardships that he went through.

Tim stopped his stories when snow started to drop. He gave his parents one more smile and promised them that he will visit them before he goes back to Japan, and as if his parents are listening, a huge snowflake landed on the flowers Tim brought.

He waved his parents’ grave one more time as he started to walk back to the bus stop. Sure, he can afford the cab but buses are colder than cabs and cheaper too. So, win-win.

Tim sat in the last row of the bus and he leaned to the window as he smiled. He is lonely, sure. But after talking to his parents, he is somewhat light. He just smiled and pushed his airpods on and listened to Bach’s.

#tim drake #fanfic #chaotic tim drake #unhinged tim drake #dcu #timothy jackson drake #damian wayne #tam fox #vicky vale #light angst #unwind fanfic

63 notes · View notes

veeluvss · 5 months ago

Note

I loved your JJ x autistic daughter fics, and it got me wondering what Emily Prentiss would be like with an autistic daughter. I love your writing, and was wondering if you would consider writing one like this? Thanks!

Hii! Thank you for your ask, here is Emily with an autistic daughter :)

Listening

Monday morning came around quicker than the Prentiss duo wanted it to. Having had the weekend off, Emily was feeling refreshed and ready for another working week. She was ready to see her team again and hoped they felt as refreshed as she did. However, she didn’t want her weekend to end. She’d had a lovely weekend with her daughter. They’d gone to the aquarium as it was their favourite place. They’d both done their homework in their office, they’d had two movie nights and a whole movie day on Sunday. They just spent as much time together as possible. It was rare they both had a free weekend so it was nice to hang out together.

Miley was still in bed, not wanting to go to school whatsoever. She hated it at the moment. She hated school in general, ever since she could remember. But Emily didn’t like her to stay home alone and be homeschooled whilst she worked and boarding school could never be an option. She was in a private school, which meant Emily didn’t like Miley missing days or even classes because it was expensive. Being the way she was, Miley didn’t have many friends. She struggled to interact with people and hold conversations for long periods of time. People thought she was weird because she never looked at them whilst she was talking. On top of that, she was super smart, smarter than the rest of the kids in her class. Like Spencer Reid, her uncle, she had an eidetic memory. She could revise so easily and retain information with a blink. She was in the year above the normal at school which meant she was a year younger than her classmates. Which made it even harder for her to make friends. And today, her best friend Daisy, wasn’t in. Daisy was Miley’s rock. She was older but she took Miley under her wing and they did everything together. Daisy was often at the Prentiss household with having such a busy household herself. However, Daisy was on a field trip with her geography class and Miley wasn’t chosen to go which meant a whole day without her other half. She couldn’t face it alone, not the bullies.

“Miles, come on it’s nearly 8,” Emily said, entering her daughter’s room. “I’m not going,” Miley said, matter of factly. “Oh yes you are, come on, up.” Emily pulled the covers off her daughter’s head and walked to open the curtains. “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are, Miley. School is non-negotiable.” Emily was strict in her voice. She was adamant on Miley going to school, on top of that, she hated leaving her home alone and she couldn’t take her into the office with her today as they had a big staff meeting. “Hurry up or I’m going to be late for work,” Emily said as she left the room. Miley groaned loudly and pulled the cover back up over her head. She couldn’t sleep anymore but she did not want to go in. If she wasn’t ready, her mum couldn’t force her.

“Young lady if you’re not out of bed, I’m going to be very upset,” Emily said as she came back down the hallway. “It’s 7.55 and you’re not even dressed. What is going on?” “I told you, I’m not going in.” “And I’ve told you, school is non-negotiable.” “But Daisy isn’t in. I’ll be alone.”

Emily sighed, she knew how important Daisy was to Miley’s school life but that really was no excuse to miss a whole day of learning. Deep down, she knew her girl was clever enough to miss a day here or there, she knew she’d catch up easily. But at the same time, she had to put her foot down. Daisy wasn’t going to be there for Miley every day of her life in the future and with college coming up, they couldn’t afford to be as attached as they still were. “You can survive one day without Daisy,” Emily said, her tone softening. She walked to her daughter’s wardrobe and pulled out an outfit. A cute skirt and sweater as now it had got colder.

“No. I can’t,” Miley groaned from under the covers. The idea of the bullies terrified her. As soon as they saw her alone today, they were going to attack her - she could feel it. “And why can’t you?” Emily sat on the side of the bed and pulled down the covers to see her daughter’s face. She needed to have a conversation about it because there was clearly something else bothering Miley. Miley paused. She couldn’t tell her mum about the bullies because then she’d march straight into the school, attempt to do something about it and it would fail and then the bullying would only get worse. “Come on, spit it out,” Emily said. “I just can’t,” Miley said and rolled over so she didn’t have to look at her mum. “Miley,” Emily sighed. “Come on, kiddo. I know there’s something going on.” “There’s nothing going on.” Miley hated lying to her mum but she knew she would try and help and only make it worse. “Is it the bullies again?” Emily asked, her voice gentle and understanding. Miley didn’t respond. She couldn’t say no now, not now she’d got it right. “How long has it been going on for?” Emily followed up her question, taking the no response as a response. “Daisy makes it better,” Miley managed to squeak out between her growing tears. She didn’t want to cry, she was an overly emotional person. She sniffed and Emily sighed quietly. “I know she does but she won’t be there forever.” “She will,” Miley replied, trying to keep her voice strong. Emily wasn’t an emotional person so having an emotional daughter made things difficult for her. She accommodated Miley’s needs when she needed to, she was a good mum in that sense but when she started crying out of nowhere, it made it hard for Emily to respond. She knew she needed a cuddle.

Slowly, Emily laid down on the bed behind Miley and wrapped an arm around her torso. Miley quickly rolled over and cuddled herself into her mum. She knew her mum often didn’t know what to say when she was crying so silence and hugs helped.

Once her tears subsided, Emily pulled back and brushed some wet, black hair from Miley’s face. “It’ll be okay. Do you want me to come in and speak to your teachers?” Emily asked. “Please, no,” Miley replied and began playing with her mum’s hair. The time was 8.15 and if Emily didn't’ leave now, she’d be late. She sighed and nodded. “How about you come with me today?” Emily asked. Miley, taken aback at the suggestion, looked up at Emily with shock. “But you said -” “I know what I said but clearly this is impacting you more than I realised. We have to put your mental health and wellbeing above a bit of school,” Emily explained. “But what about the money?” “Forget about the money, sweetheart. That’s my worry not yours. Plus, it’s one day. Daisy will be back to school tomorrow and so will you,” Emily said. Miley felt weight lift off her shoulders and she smiled widely, pulling her mum into a hug. “Thank you for understanding,” she whispered. “I’ll always listen to you, you just have to talk to me,” Emily replied. “Now get dressed, I’ve got a meeting at 9 I can't be late for.”

The team loved having Miley, their little helper around for the day and Miley loved it too. She loved all of the BAU family, especially JJ and Penelope. They’d known her the longest and they all got along so well. She loved that her mum had listened to her and understood her needs for the day. She loved her mum, her very own Unit Chief.

#emily prentiss #emily #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss head canons #emily prentiss imagine #emily prenitss x daughter #emily prenitss!mom #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds #autism #autistic!daughter #emily prentiss x autistic!daughter

94 notes · View notes