#but i am carrying on as if i will be able to

[cannabisbutch]

i've had dysphoria abt having a uterus b4 i even knew i was trans, but it was mostly expressed thru not wanting kids and being fearful abt vaginal sex. once i came out, it was still just constant numbness, and carrying fear around with me like a heavy bag, i just had a name for it now.

now that im post hysterectomy, i feel so much mentally lighter, and only now am i able to even start to fully scope out how much mental weight was being occupied by having a uterus i didnt want.

Idk who needs to hear this but you don't need "signs" to tell you you're a girl. You don't need it to hurt in your guts either. You can just want to try it, and you should.

In retrospect, many of my memories can be analysed as a sign of being trans. But the key point here is "in retrospect". I didn't see any of that before realising I'm a girl. I didn't even feel dysphoria before realising I didn't want to be masculine.

6 months ago, I just thought I was a good ally with every sign of being cis. If you feel like this and you love trans people and think they're so cool and think being trans is really beautiful, maybe just try new pronouns and a name online. No one who matters will be mad at you for doing it.

Had I seen a post like this, I would've figured myself out 3 years earlier

@gnome-de-official

[esccpism]

[…] love is my religion—I could die for that.

it’s valentine’s day. ceo!ambessa gifts you flowers.

abstract: ambessa wants you. more: she wants you to chase. the problem is the time it takes—you’re a tough nut to crack, and the woman has never been good at waiting.

cw: ceo!ambessa x assistant!reader, groping, kissing, shy ambessa for .002 secs but don’t tell anyone, sub/dom themes, corporal punishment (r!reader), voyuerism, ambessa has you masturbate in front of her, older woman x younger woman, reader is fat/plus sized

wc: 3.9k

fic inspired by this artwork by @/RoseYSD13 on twitter. heart skipped like 12 full beats. header inspired by the lovely @hcneymooners.

the year marches onwards.

if you catch the day early enough, time seems to pause and suspend; a breath you could almost hold in your hand.

it’s four in the morning—and so ambessa changes in her office today. and you stand, staring forward, only stealing glances when her back is turned.

she gets ready for as long as two hours, at times, when it’s early enough and the preliminary steps of her routine haven't already been run through at her home. such days are rare. she’s perfect in every other instance, she’s perfect even now. skin and scars, tight and flexible, choking up the room with her overpowering perfume. 

you don’t know why she allows you to guard her incompletion. but then again, you’re fresh, and new. you aren’t worth much to her at all.

“haven’t i taught you manners, child?”

your eyes snap back to position. she hasn’t turned even a modicum, but of course it’s a gamble worth taking—her muscles practically ripple like water. the sun simmers against her skin. it’s asking the impossible to not watch them stretch and contract as she bends. 

you allowed yourself it and nothing else, avoiding the dip low in her back where safety ends and the curve of her ass begins. 

“come,” she beckons, “and help me out of this suit.”

you bob your head, and no hair spills out of your tight bun this time. 

dress shoes click and reverberate in the wide and endless room, traveling ages before bouncing off the walls. she says nothing and so neither do you. the time passes, you can tell only by the morning waking outside. unbuttoning the corset becomes your primary objective and you do it with steadfast attention, ignoring her stomach tensing each time your fingers brush the vulnerable skin. ignoring her stomach entirely. ignoring the fact she is wearing no bra underneath and how her full breasts swell towards you beseechingly. 

when you finish unraveling the intricate set of satin ribbons and pull the heavy fabric away from her torso, she lets you fold it neatly and place it atop her desk before pressing in, correcting your posture for you. 

a hand tickles your stomach, finger under your chin, raising your line of sight until it meets with hers. 

”don’t steal glances. i won’t remind you again.” 

you nod as best as you can. your post might be fucked—though you don’t have a moment to let the grief wrack through you. “take wholly, or not at all. i won’t have any nibbling around me.” 

gripping now, ambessa carries your chin and levels it so you are staring directly at her bare body. 

“tell me. what are you feeling?”

“satisfaction, ma’am. i am honored to learn from you, and happy i was able to be of service to you.”

she sighs, and tuts. ”i told them to get rid of that stupid training video. i don’t want a robot tending to me. do you understand me?”

you nod. no hesitation, because she hates the scent, smells it like a dog smells fear. 

“once more.” she relaxes your face and steps to your right, curls around you like a lioness circling its prey. “what are you feeling?”

”curiosity.” your eyes flicker to follow her, then keep straight ahead.

“around?”

“around you, ma’am.”

“good girl.” she stops her orbit directly in front of you, and drags her seat over. leans back, body open, legs spread. “satiate it.”

you pat your hands briefly on your dress pants—she interjects with a wily smile, “don’t be afraid, dear.” and you bite back an i’m not before it snaps from you, sharp as a knife.

you sink forward, distantly aware of your hanging cleavage. growing far more aware from how unabashedly she stares at it. you trail your nails down from her ear lobe, across her neck, watch her shiver at the pressure on her throat. you dip then, and politely squeeze her tit in your hand.

she scoffs, and then laughs, a tinkling, rich, barberry sound. 

“callow,” she says. “you search like you are reading off my monthly estimates. have you no hunger?”

“i have hunger,” you retaliate, eyes alight. you pinch, and her brows flicker, arching into the pain near imperceptibly. 

“but my job does not demand my hunger, ma’am. it only requires that i compartmentalize.” quite literally. you retract your hand and fold it behind you. ”allow me to return to my work.”

she leans her head back, face unreadable as she takes you in. seconds pass, and then the cloud passes as well. she waves you off, sounding bored. “very well. i’ll call you should i need you again.”

⚘

she tends to need you often.

it would seem actually, that she couldn’t do anything by herself were you to be zapped away tomorrow.

she enjoys when you pull the chair out for her, and requests it each time she returns to her desk. says heartily that it makes her feel regal. the cafe on the ground floor has a daily special that she orders three of, at three separate times in the afternoon, sending you on a fourth trip with a lofty tip for the barista should she have enjoyed all three instances. the lines are unbearably long, since the coffee tends towards being delicious. you make the fourth trip often.

her write ups, the real work: which loan repayment negotiations are still underway—there are many—and which partnering fell through—there are many. getting cussed out over the phone on her behalf. day trips across the city and long nights bent over blue light and ass-early mornings, awake even before the sun.

it’s…a demanding job, at its worst. 

work breaks are terse at their best, and your coworkers are a restless bunch. they ask you questions, hoping the pressure will, at what is perhaps the 20,001st attempt, eventually give way. 

ruler with an iron fist. does she even have emotions pulsing in there? you must’ve seen it, seen her slip. it’s psychopathic, how she’s so good at smiling. a wolf trying to hide its teeth. 

here, these people, they don’t nurture expression. self wilts and dies here. that’s what got you at her side in the first place. you were always so loud, anyway, always too much. your mother told you to swallow yourself before the earth tears open its mouth and does it for you.

so you swallow, and you keep your teeth together, and you don’t say a word.

they’re right. you have seen it. ambessa’s smile befalls you often, and her touch is kind, when it grazes the small of your back. 

she takes like a tyrant. she desires unceasingly. this you know. 

you leave an afternoon with her mangled or otherwise changed, fundamentally at the parts. she so easily finds the fleshy soft of your belly, where it gives way with no resistance, and wraps a jaw around it. settles down to the marrow. your training was this, over and over, every mundane afternoon. eaten and spat back out. you’d be lucky to leave the night with any part of you still intact. 

it was meant to make you human—this you couldn’t understand. i don’t want a robot tending to me, she’d instructed.

tell me. what do you feel?

what your coworkers don’t acknowledge is that absolute deference weakens in the face of idiosyncrasies. it's far more effective to strip a thing naked and leave it trembling out in the cold—completely numb the senses. a tyrant cannot rule a person. your brain must be empty so that they might squirm inside. 

ambessa does not squirm. 

she digs. afternoons change and shift, not yet stretching towards the light, but stretching nonetheless.

you pick inside yourself and place it down before ambessa—at her bequest: your runaway mother, how you hadn’t cried at your brother’s funeral, your bite-sized calico, your tamagotchi collection—and she watches every item splayed like a buffet with a fever that warms, that singes—you nearly snatch yourself back from the simmering air, afraid to lose yourself in her belly. to the licking flame of her tongue. 

her hand extends across the table. it crosses the sheets of daily agendas and your laptop and the stack of reports, crosses seas towards you. she lands softly on your chin, and travels to cradle your cheek.

“are you happy here?” she unloads.

“of course, ma’am.”

her frown makes a hearth of her face. “give me the honest answer.”

“here at this position, or here with your fingers taking my face?”

“either,” she says, lowly. “both,” she corrects. 

you ease a foot on the gas pedal. you aren’t sure what’s gotten into you, but it drums in your thighs like a second heartbeat. ”then, if i said i wasn't?”

she’s silent, and then her hand slips off. the heat follows her, and your body creaks forward before your brain catches up. chasing. 

“then i would release you.” she folds her hands. “and i wouldn’t allow anyone else to have you.”

“i would no longer be yours, ma’am.”

“i may have no use for a pet with reservations, that does not mean i could stand someone else having what i can’t.”

“then must i repeat myself, too?”

the air quivers. the admission breaks inside your chest. her smile curls tight inside you and doesn’t let go. 

“indulge me.”

“i’m happy here,” you indulge her. you really say—i’m happy it’s you. you press it into the gaping, leaking space between you, right next to your stewn out innards and idiosyncrasies. right to where her fingers fold on the table. “you’ve got a hand like a fireplace. i don’t mind when you touch, or when you take. above everything it’s the warmth i feel first.”

⚘

the pet names begin shortly thereafter. 

only in private, but strong contenders each time—

would you fetch me another coffee, pet?

ah, my pretty dove. you’ve cleaned up sharply today.

come closer, little one. sit. there’s space for you, and i want you near me. 

each cuts accordingly, chips at you in intentional ways. she’s relentless and unmerciful. she drags you around and does so easily; you bend for her like a lily. under her strong hands she directs you how to stand during meetings, at what angle to arch when pouring her drinks, at what angle to bow at each of her contemporaries as they enter.

she’s sat with her legs splayed, gaze sharp as she pushes in between your shoulder blades. a shudder slides down through the tendon until your knees threaten collapse. 

”head low, and shoulders squared, little lamb. even in civility don’t forget whose you are.” 

you couldn’t, not with the dents her fingers press into the tumbling skin of your back. it’ll surely leave marks. it’s only fair.

⚘

ambessa smiles when you enter—she always had, but these are toothier as of late, more disarming. you are startled by them each time. 

you offer her one back that probably more closely resembles a wince, and then duck your head and the indignant flush that rises.

⚘

”i’ve brought coffee,” she announces with gusto, swishing in one morning. the pinks and lilacs outside grace the silhouette of her broad shoulders as she swoops down to place one of two in front of you. “tell me if it’s to your liking, so i may have someone replace it if not.”

your mouth unhinges, staring up at her dumbly. “ma’am—coffee runs are my job.”

“and an overly drab one. i didn’t know the lines were so long.”

she waits expectantly, and with a start you reach for the cup, hesitating, slowly tipping it back. it tingles on your tongue—spice and caramel. she watches it slide down your throat with rapt interest, eyes finding yours immediately when you settle the cup back down. 

“it’s—good. it’s delicious.”

her grin spreads like wildfire. ”i’ll have them preserve it on the menu. it will be our daily order.”

“ma’am,” you try helplessly, but she pushes forward, leaning her weight on the desk.

she towers, casting a harsh shadow as the sun erects behind her. she might be glowing, or maybe it’s your eyes crossing as she tips over, far too close. ambessa dabs at the corner of your lip, carefully moving around your makeup and the mauve paint to your mouth. 

“you’ve a stain, pet.”

her carefulness promptly exits her body through parted lips as she pushes, slipping her thumb into your mouth.

your body jumps. ambessa’s eyes lid as she regards you. “clean it off,” she says.

no hesitation. your tongue snakes out and wraps around the thick digit, suctioning softly. her large hand swallows the line of drool that escapes. 

she pops it out, stained now with worse than mere coffee. 

“you were saying?”

heart thundering in your throat, you slowly shake your head, swallowing around a newly dried mouth. “‘wasn’t. ma’am.”

she smiles. reaches sideways for your tissue box, and draws away.

⚘

in a turn of events, ambessa has you over her lap—fifteen strokes for standing too closely behind an attendee.

she says it’s because he’s a propagandist, how do you think it looks having my attendant whine herself against my biggest proponent? but her voice had clipped sharply and she'd demanded you untuck your chin from your chest and lower your skirt and recount exactly how it had happened.

her hand collides with the bare flesh of your ass, and it ripples, sharp singing through you at the point of contact. you gasp out, a strangled thing. she shushes you quietly, soothing the bruising spot. 

”how did he feel against your cunt? hm?”

her finger slips, just grazing just grazing the damp folds through the thick pulp of your thighs. you whimper softly, pushing back against her touch.

”like nothing at all,” you pant, “ma’am.”

“i was under the impression you were happy here.” it’s sudden as a thunder clap, her hand lands again, and your body locks with divine will so as not to rock forward on the muscle of her thigh. 

your voice breaks around a hiccup. you wish you hadn’t in you to be embarrassed, but all there is is ambessa. she overtakes and overloads. even the cold walnut desk smells of her. “yes ma’am. i am very happy here.“

“then display it to me better.”

you nod, tearily, frantically. your face buried in your folded arms makes it hard for your yes’m to make itself intelligible. ambessa doesn’t mind. isn’t finished.

“anything you need you must receive from me. understand? your robust pain, your inane pleasures. only through me.”

her hand presses against your back, testing your state, and your breathing jumps and shudders under her fingers. she coos softly, gracing them up your back and carding her fingers through your hair, massaging at the scalp.

“i’m going to sit you up, sweet girl. let me see your face.”

you’re all over her thigh when she lifts you. you gape, she gazes. swipes at your slick and licks it into her mouth.

“would you like me to handle it?”

“no, ma’am, i’m terribly sorry—i’m not sure what came over me—“

”if you wish to handle it yourself,” she interrupts, and swings her arm out before her, gesturing at a low seated sofa and pile of pillows, “sit right there where i can see you.”

her legs rest eagled, arms bent over her knees, eyes ravenous as she watches you pound your fingers into yourself. your moans jump out stilted and quiet. it’s not enough, it’s nowhere near enough. you need her inside you. you know she could stretch you out so good.

it’s chasing you, it’s chasing you, and your body rolls into your stuttering fingers, your heel reaching pathetically for your clit. 

“such a good girl,” ambessa murmurs.

and the moan bubbles out of you like a wail, body climbing towards heaven as your orgasm ascends on you. white hot crashing waves you ride yourself through, hips jumping and twitching until you collapse back into yourself. pleasure tingling in you like an aftertaste.

she strides over immediately, presses a kiss to the top of your head. leaves and return, cleans you off with a warm, wet hand towel and dresses you with fresh clothing, helping your hands through the sleeves, slow and deliberate. she says nothing the whole while. so you say nothing in return. 

when she’s finished and she’s satisfied, she sits you in front of a hearty meal.

it’s still hot and you don’t know when she had called for it—but you’re drained and you're grateful, and you take her kindness without complaint.

ambessa sits across from you, watches you eat. satisfaction smoothes her face out. 

“are you happy here, little one?”

you glance up from your fork of chicken. she cradles you with her eyes.

it’s a given that you won’t report tonight. too many HR violations to count and technically it’d be your job to file and forward them all. you’ll have to reach for the CCTV footage as well, aware contemporaries come with varying intentions. you know the footage will not be bad at all. it was merely a brush, a push, a passing by—and you know it will not matter. just as it had not tonight.

despite it all stillness resides in you. just the way you like it.

“yes, ma’am. i’m happy.”

⚘

your work continues as usual. her hands remain gentle. you remember them on your body like the frozen earth remembers spring. 

⚘

“i’d like your opinion,” her voice sings through the air, and you rise from your chair to indulge her. “which of these three do you believe suits me better?”

you hum, crossing your arms over your chest. it delights her, and mirth dances in her eyes.

“mahogany, as always. brings out your eyes.”

she lets the other two fold over her arm. ”well. aren’t you a sweet talker.”

”i’ll adjust my speech with you if you enjoy it, ma’am.“

“watch yourself,” she points. after a moment you allow yourself a little grin, one she drinks in and guzzles, exhaling sharp. berating on hold, too busy grinning back.

⚘

she wants you, and she leaves it scattered all over the place. makes it so obvious as to practically scream it from every rooftop.

she stares, she appears around your desk, hovers, frets when you are dressed too light for the weather—frets. the iron fisted tyrant. too warm to let you numb to the cold.

ambessa continues to change in front of you again and again, now with your added commentary. she welcomes your input, lets you see every curve of her breast and dip in her stomach—eyes follow you like incandescent light, curiosity, or more so daring your gaze to dip, to explore. to devour like a rabid tongue. 

shouting from the rooftops without hearing herself echoed back isn’t something she’d ever commit to long, anyway. 

ambessa grows increasingly frustrated with your fastidiousness and pushes and presses inwards. suffocates, encircles. as she does.

“i wasn’t trained for massages,” you tell her in vain. it verges on complaint, and she waves it off.

“you weren’t trained for many things, yet you hold up excellently.”

it’s high praise, she knows what she’s doing. your cheeks bruise, anyway.

“if you wish to be paid for it, i can arrange that.“

“no payment.” you say. “…ma’am. it stains it.”

“ah.” her head tips back, catches your gaze, a small smile at her mouth at the fluster in your face. “i see.”

with sleeves rolled to your elbows, your hands work her shoulders. dips into her sharp clavicle, unwinds and unravels the string of muscle and the plate of bone.

“lower, dove.” she crumbles under your touch, and your chest pangs where her silvery, pillowy coils tickle your stomach, as she sags into you. “deeper. you’ve the arms for it. i won’t break.“

she’s broken already. fragments of her spill supple into your hands, drenching your fingertips, caking under your nails. she melts like candle wax and swallows the flame. 

it’s a simple revelation, and nothing that you hadn’t known. she’s beautiful. nips the breath right out of your lungs. you know she’d gleam if you told her—and so you do, rehearsing her lines in your head the microsecond before she acts them each out, a tensing, a shifting, a pleasant hum, rising in pitch. pride, preening like a bird. a charmed grin about her. 

like water in a river. she’s predictable these days, but you’ll keep that one for yourself. 

⚘

february marches onwards.

a quirk of her’s you’ve noticed: she decorates for every holiday without fail, even the ones she does not formally celebrate. 

you would wonder what sub-intelligent lick your coworkers have to offer about it if you were given the chance to think at all.

you sign out of your laptop that night and step through the sliding doors the next morning, bright and early and instantaneously the bursts of red and gold slap you right in the face, just as if you’d stumbled into the sun. 

every floor is like this, until you reach hers—and she’s waiting for you, the most flabbergasting yet—and swathed in her arms is a bouquet of red carnations and roses.

your stunned gaze picks out a single golden rose among the bloodbath. it’s an unimportant detail. but her face waits right above it, and you don’t know yet what to do with that.

“thank you for the hard work,” she starts, extending the garden towards you. “you’ve been a good employee.”

you stare. ambessa hates hesitation, you know this, but your head and your heart pull pitilessly in opposite directions with you inbetween, tearing like a piece of paper down the middle. 

with steeled hands you relieve it from her, and have to hoist it against your body—you aren’t as strong as she is. 

“why?”

“take it as an investment. you strengthen me, my vision. my life’s work. i hope to rely on you for a long time.”

you search for a tell on her face, but she gives you nothing. exasperation enters your voice as a last ditch effort. 

“a note on my desk would have sufficed.”

“do you know me to merely ’suffice’?” ambessa crosses her arms, shoulders rising towards the ceilings, like you’re the one being difficult. “read between the lines, dear.”

“i am. it’s why i’m asking why.”

she exhales. raises her chin. “and i’ve told you. personal afflictions.” she gestures towards it, arms waving vaguely before folding back under her chest. “i wasn’t—sure what color you might like.”

her arms unfold as if relenting, relinquishing—bearing her chest open. she leans back to regard you, hands supporting her weight behind her. the words are quiet and cut thin through the air. 

“are you dissatisfied?”

“no. never, ma’am. never with you.”

you stare at her, then down at the flowers you can barely peek over, then back at her, across her face, her neck beginning to resemble the bouquet the wider the silence expands—and—and—

you extend your hand to her arm, reaching blindly until you land, and her bicep tenses once under your touch. 

“just hungry.” your eyes flicker to her lips. 

she sinks into you like a feeding wolf. you aren’t sure where the flowers crash to, you don’t care. her mouth is as the rest of her—tender and all consuming. you offer yourself to her as a sacrifice, whimpering as you crumple in her arms. her skin smells overwhelming under your hands, her face cradled by your shaking fingers—of creamy vanilla, of baby powder and fresh sheets, enchanting, clothes drenched in amber accord. powerful and near unbearable and expanding like a balloon in your throat.

the urgency rises like a migraine, the need to gasp for air. gently, you shove it back down. not now, you whisper to your weeping heart. more important matters at hand.

©esccpism

RAHHHHHH thank you so much for reading. she’s perfect. i want her to bend me like a plastic fork.

[takes1]

imagine: aone takanobu is too big

details. woopsie cold start / fem!reader / mutual, intense size kink / established relationship / sexual dysfunction / begging / themes of self-restraint / f!rec oral / brat meets soft top / 900 words

his rough hands swallow up your shaky thighs, keeping you steady, supported, but more importantly spread for his wide, slick tongue to break you in.

"taka'-," you try, but your voice doesn't carry your words.

he hums, approving, against you, a low vibration that forces a whine from your tight throat. he loves the way you say his name. if feels like nobody can do it the justice that you do.

"o-h my god--, oh-!" your moans crescendo at his hungry sucking at your clit.

he stays, diligent and devoted, until he's edged you enough times to bring out the right amount of desperation, a pitiful state of trembling, and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

he brings you back and forth over the flat of his tongue, the heat from his breath and the strength in his grip too much to take when your cunt is that overstimulated-- you cum hard, loud, and he's there to hold you through it.

you can't sit upright anymore. your legs won't do it. but always the gentleman, he's there to help you onto your back.

not for cuddles, like you thought-- he looms over you for just a moment, a sloppy kiss to your quivering bottom lip, and he slips from your shaky, weak hands to slide right back down between your legs.

"taka'," you cry, "i can't--,"

"you know you can."

his wide shoulders keep you from squeezing him away. he sucks a distracted, harsh kiss into the crease of your thigh and it turns into tens more. those big, thick, calloused fingers go from lazily rubbing over your pussy to stuffing them deep inside. he knows you can usually take three but you won't right now.

the way you look down gets him as hard as a rock. his strong, square jaw works under your pleading and glossy gaze.

he wishes he could fuck you senseless with no risk.

he's knuckle-deep, sucking on your clit, and fucking you with his eyes when you try to bargain with him.

"i'm-- i'm ready," you whine, his work shirt balled up in your fists, pushed up so you could smell it while he ate you out, "promise. i am."

it's a lie. he can hear it. he can feel it.

his frustration goes into a hard nick to your thigh, a groan that doesn't quite make it past his busy lips. it's the restraint you have him exercise that makes him crazy. it was hard enough if you could make it easy, for you not to entertain a bad idea.

the begging, though. he clings to your thigh like a lifeline, hips already heavy but now sinking down into the cool sheets.

before he can tell you no, because that look always meant 'no, baby' you keep going:

"i need you. i need you so- bad," you're getting short of breath so you take a gasp.

you're already tight around just two of his fingers. he squeezes his eyes shut, with a strangled grunt, barely able to listen to you as you continue.

"ple-ase, please, please--,"

he takes his fingers back slowly, much like the way he clambers back up to sit on his knees, parting your legs a bit too wide so he can take a good, long stare at you.

his cock aches, strong, and it spreads a sharp and unpleasant kind of longing through his whole stomach- up to his chest.

he loves the way you clutch his shirt, how you tense at his burly form over you, your eyes searching him for new things to appreciate.

you love the strict, pained look in his brow. how tortured he really is, it gives you a kick. it's no lie that you want him to fuck you, but you weren't as dumb as you often played it. but if there's any responsibility to shoulder, like this restraint, aone does it for you a heartbeat. you have fun where you can.

your palm stretches out to rub on him through his boxers. you get maybe one, two, seconds of tactile play before he snatches your wrist and pushes his body over you, pinning it with absolutely no resistance.

"you know i can't," sounds horrible, and jealous, and mean.

only now do you put up a tiny fight. a squirm against his sullen, sulky kisses.

"taka-!"

"stop," he cuts you off, then keeps you silent with his palm.

"just-," his eyes evade yours for a moment, and you know he's not so tough, "please-, please stop begging me."

he's breathier, and heavier, as he rolls his hips onto yours. it's gentle, but the friction feels so good that your eyes just roll back into your skull. you relax under his weight.

"you know i can't-," he repeats, over and over again so he won't forget it, as he pushes his constrained cock against you.

his kindness doesn't help. you want him so much more for it.

links. longer haikyuu. my other imagines. my masterlist. requests open.

notes. titled: i do what i want and what i want is aone takanobu!! god i cant stop writing him. nobody requests him. but i do. for me. to myself.

taglist. 🤍 @integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

[maretinelli]

F1 SIMULATOR

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n accompanies Lando to McLaren headquarters for his training, and at the end of the day he teaches his girlfriend how to drive an F1 car on the simulator.

Words: 2.7K+

Warnings: Cute, mentions of engineering course, teasing and some parts that can be suggestive haha I think that's it.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And you can also request stories on my profile.

MASTERLIST

The car pulled smoothly into the parking lot of McLaren's headquarters in Woking. The overcast grey sky heralded the approaching storm, thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning streaked the horizon. Inside the car, Y/n gazed out at the damp, cold British landscape as Lando switched off the engine.

He turned to her with a soft smile, his hand resting lightly on her thigh.

"Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?" He asked, his voice carrying a tone of concern. "If you want, you can join me in the conference room. I don't mind having my girlfriend around while we discuss numbers and strategies."

Y/n smiled, her gaze shining with affection.

"I'll be fine, love. Besides, Oscar said he's bringing Lily, and the two of us will be able to talk. We probably won't even notice you're gone."

Lando arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "You didn't even notice we were gone? So you two prefer each other's company to ours? I'm starting to feel shortchanged."

Y/n laughed and quickly replied: "Well, you're the ones who leave us out with these meetings and simulators. We're just creating a plan B."

He laughed and, without answering, got out of the car, walked around the front of the vehicle and opened the door on her side, extending his hand. Y/n took his hand and got out of the car, feeling the damp cold of the weather.

"Thank you, sir." She teased, giving his hand a light squeeze.

The two began walking side by side, hands intertwined. The wind ruffled Y/n's hair, and she looked up at the sky again.

"Looks like this rain is going to ruin our plans to go out tomorrow." He commented, watching another bolt of lightning cross the dark clouds.

Lando snorted. "I know, I was excited to go out and check out that restaurant, but with this weather..." He grimaced. "I guess we'll just have to stay stuck inside the hotel watching movies."

Y/n feigned discouragement. "Wow, how boring... Spending the day cuddling watching movies with you. How am I going to survive?"

"You're terrible." He chuckled and gave her a quick kiss on the temple.

Further ahead, near the entrance to the headquarters, Oscar and Lily were already waiting for them. The Australian girl smiled when she saw Y/n approaching, while Oscar waved to Lando.

"Wow, Piastri, how did you manage to get here on time?" Lando joked as he greeted his friend with a quick hug and a pat on the back.

Oscar rolled his eyes but replied with a smile. "Lily wanted to come early so she could have more time to talk to Y/n while we're stuck in meetings. I just obliged."

Y/n laughed, and Lily lightly slapped her boyfriend's arm.

"And why is he complaining? Better that than hearing me talk about how I didn't get a chance to talk to Y/n all night!" Lily countered.

Y/n laughed and pointed at the Australian. "See, Oscar? I'm your girlfriend's entertainment."

Lando sighed dramatically.

"You two look like a couple, and we're just the jilted lovers."

Y/n smiled in amusement, putting an arm around Lily's shoulders. "Sorry, boys, but we have a bond that you'll never understand."

The pilots laughed, and Lando squeezed his girlfriend's hand while Oscar pulled Lily closer. They walked together to the entrance of the headquarters, the two of them immersed in conversation about the day's agenda, while Yin and Lily talked about the college course they were taking.

"I'm still struggling with fluid dynamics." Lily commented. "Do you have any tips? I swear this professor is doing it on purpose to confuse us."

Y/n smiled. "Believe me, when I took this class, I thought I would never survive. But I can give you some summaries that saved me."

Once they entered the headquarters, it was time to part ways. Lando turned to Y/n, holding her hand.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" He asked again.

She smiled.

"Yes, love. I have Lily to keep me company. The one who might end up bored is you, in that boring meeting."

"I'll run out soon and see you again." He leaned over and kissed her cheek before pulling away.

Oscar and Lando headed to the meeting wing, while Y/n and Lily walked to the headquarters' large winter garden. The space was wide, full of comfortable armchairs and a panoramic view of the trees wet from the fine drizzle that was beginning to fall.

"Lando takes such good care of you. You can see it in the way he looks at you."

Y/n smiled, feeling her face heat up a little. "Yeah... We've been together for four years and it feels like we're still on an endless honeymoon."

"That's rare. But you two are perfect together." Lily smiled fondly.

Y/n just smiled, looking at the gray sky as she felt her heart warmed by the presence of the one she loved.

They spent most of the time talking about their universities, discussing assignments, exams and the challenges of the mechanical engineering course. Lily took the opportunity to ask for some tips on more difficult subjects, while Y/n shared her experiences from her last year of college.

Between one conversation and another, they also talked about their boyfriends' races, commenting on recent performances and some funny stories from the paddocks.

Meanwhile, Lando and Oscar were stuck in endless meetings, listening to strategy, planning and technical discussions about the season's car. Then, they moved on to the fast practice sessions in the simulator, where they could finally relax and compete against each other for a few laps.

After hours of talking, Y/n and Lily were now in an area where some old McLaren Formula 1 cars were on display. They walked slowly, observing the details of the historic models, but so immersed in the conversation that they didn't notice that Lando and Oscar had already left the meetings and the simulator.

They had both sent messages saying they were free, but neither of them even looked at their cell phones.

The McLaren drivers were walking through the corridors, looking for their girlfriends. Lando was looking around with a certain urgency, and the Australian didn't miss the chance to tease.

"You look like a dog looking for its owner."

Lando rolled his eyes, but laughed. "And you're like a parrot commenting on everything I do."

Oscar laughed out loud, shaking his head. When they turned a corner, they finally found them downstairs, still deep in conversation and laughing about something. Lando smiled automatically when he saw her, and Oscar did the same when he looked at Lily.

The two looked at each other and laughed.

"Look at us..." Oscar commented, still laughing. "Smiling like idiots at our girlfriends."

"What can we do? We're romantics." Lando shrugged, laughing.

Without wasting time, they went down the stairs, but as soon as they stepped onto the lower floor, Lando ran a little and hugged Y/n from behind, making her startle and quickly get out of his arms.

"Oh my God!" She turned around reflexively, ready to react, but as soon as she saw it was him, she smiled. "Lan! I almost hit you thinking it might be someone else!"

He laughed, pulling her back into his arms. "If it were anyone else, I'd help you beat him up myself."

Y/n laughed and hugged her boyfriend back, feeling Lando rock them a little from side to side playfully.

"How were the meetings and the simulators?" Lily asked, looking at her boyfriend.

"I for one nearly died of boredom!" Lando made a dramatic expression.

"He almost fell asleep in the middle of one part." Oscar laughed.

"LIE!" Lando protested. "I just closed my eyes for a second."

"Thirty!!" Oscar says.

Y/n laughed and teased, "You don't have the patience for long meetings, love. That was to be expected."

Lando rolled his eyes, but laughed along with the others.

Oscar then looked at his watch and sighed. "We need to go, we have a reservation at a restaurant and we're already late."

Y/n broke free from Lando's embrace and pulled Lily into a tight hug. "Enjoy!"

"See you later!" Lily smiled.

Y/n waved at Oscar, who waved back before walking away hand in hand with Lily.

Lando and Y/n watched the two walk away, and then she turned back to look at the old McLaren cars. She ran her hand delicately over one of the panels and commented.

"It's incredible to see how the technology of these cars has evolved over the years. Every detail, every aerodynamic change... Everything has a direct influence on performance."

Lando watched her with an admiring smile.

"I think it's so cute when you talk about cars like that. I can see how much you love the course you're taking."

Y/n smiled, and before she could respond, Lando pulled her into a kiss.

The touch was gentle at first, their lips meeting in a calm, almost exploratory way. Lando held her face gently, deepening the kiss little by little. Y/n felt her body relax against him, her hands sliding to the back of his neck as she enjoyed the moment. The kiss was enveloping, slow, but full of affection, as if it were a silent way of showing how much he loved her.

Lando pulled back a little, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"I have an idea. Come with me, love!"

Before Y/n could ask what he had in mind, he grabbed her hand and started pulling her down the hallway.

"Hey, where are we going?" She asked between giggles, trying to keep up with his hurried pace.

"You'll like it!" He looked back and smiled.

Norris climbed a few flights of stairs, pulling Y/n by the hand excitedly. They passed through a few corridors until he stopped in front of a door with the sign 'Simulator' written on it.

He opened the door and let her in. The room was large, with soft lighting, screens scattered around, and in the center, a professional Formula 1 simulator. The black and orange McLaren cockpit glowed under the lights, with a steering wheel full of buttons and a screen on the dashboard.

Lando closed the door and smiled mischievously. "I'm going to teach you how to drive a Formula 1 car."

Y/n widened her eyes and walked towards him, who was already fiddling with the simulator's settings.

"You're kidding, aren't you?"

"Not at all." Lando laughed.

She let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I’m about to destroy a virtual McLaren car.”

Lando made a funny face and shrugged. "Not a problem."

Y/n chuckled softly.

"What if someone comes here?"

"It's okay, I'm an expert at getting out of awkward situations." He winks at her and Y/n laughs, remembering how her older brother once caught them alone at home making out, right at the beginning of their relationship and Lando gave a cheap excuse, but it worked. "Now come on, love! Sit here!"

Lando adjusted the seat for her, adjusting the steering wheel and making sure everything was in the right position. With each adjustment, he got closer to her face, and Y/n smiled at the corner of her mouth.

He noticed and leaned in even closer, just inches from her face.

"Why are you smiling like that, huh?" He asked provocatively.

"Nothing, nothing." She blushed and laughed, looking away. Y/n touched the steering wheel, feeling the texture and analyzing the details. "This is much more complex than it looks!!"

"It's very realistic. You can feel every detail of the track, even the bumps." Lando smiled.

"What if I get it all wrong?" She hesitated.

"You won't make any mistakes, my dear. I'm here to teach you!" Lando smiled lovingly at her and then began to explain the basic buttons, how to brake and accelerate correctly. "I'll set a quiet track to start, how about Silverstone?"

Y/n nodded, and Lando finished the adjustments. He stood behind her seat, his hands on the back.

"Ready?"

"I have no idea."

She accelerated too hard at the start, and the car spun around the first corner. Y/n groaned in frustration.

"Well, I think I was born to be an engineer, not a pilot."

Lando chuckled. "If it's any consolation, even I've done that in real life." He leaned down and kissed her head.

Y/n laughed, took a deep breath and continued. She was in last place on that first lap, missing turns and crashing into other cars, but Lando laughed at every comment she made while still encouraging her.

"Damn, I'm such a bad driver! How did I get my driver's license?"

Lando laughs and strokes her hair. "It's different, love. That's why you're getting errors in the simulator!"

With each mistake, he would lean in closer to correct something, purposely getting close to her ear to explain, or letting his lips lightly brush against her neck just to see her shiver. And that made him smile hugely, knowing that he still had that effect on her.

"If you finish a lap without spinning, I'll give you a prize."

"What kind of prize?" Y/n raised an eyebrow.

Lando smiled mischievously and got closer to her ear, brushing his lips a little on his girlfriend's neck until he reached her ear and said something extremely suggestive, making her smile big and blush at the same time, turning to look at the pilot.

"Now I really want that perfect lap."

"Alright. I'll make sure to do that when we get to the hotel then!" Lando laughed too.

Y/n improved, she still made mistakes and crashed, but she managed to gain some positions. Whenever she did something right, Lando celebrated and smiled proudly. Sometimes, he put his hands over hers on the steering wheel to help her with the curves, and Y/n smiled when she realized how much he was enjoying that little adventure. Even more so with the teasing.

As he watched her, Lando realized that even after years together, he still felt in love like a silly teenager. Every detail of her, every quirk, every laugh—he loved everything about Y/n.

"Calm down, love!!" In a sharp stop, he suddenly grabbed her waist, pretending to protect her.

Y/n laughed and turned to him. "Thank you for saving my life, my hero."

They both laughed, and she went back to driving.

When she realized she was falling behind, Y/n glances sideways and then tries to change something on the simulator's steering wheel discreetly.

"Are you cheating?" Lando places both hands on her shoulders.

"Me? I don't even know how to use it." She feigns innocence, placing her hand on her chest and smiling sideways.

Lando chuckled, kissing her cheek.

After a few laps of spinning the car, hitting walls and nearly running over the simulator engineers while changing tires, Y/n finally managed to complete a decent lap. In last place, but without incident.

"YOU DID A LAP WITHOUT SPINNING! AMAZING!" Lando jumps up and raises his arms, as if she had won a GP.

Y/n laughed so hard she laid her head on the steering wheel. Completely ignoring the laps I still had in the simulator to complete the race.

Lando, excited, picked her up from the bench and spun her around in the air.

"AHH!! LAN!!" She let out a surprised scream before laughing even harder, briefly laying her head on his shoulder. Feeling her heart swell even more with love for him.

He placed her on the floor and held her face before kissing her. It was a kiss full of pride and affection, with his lips moving slowly over hers, showing how happy he was.

When he walked away, he smiled. "I can have you fill in for me in some races now."

"Oh, of course!!"

The two laughed, but before they could say anything else, a McLaren employee walked into the room and frowned when he saw them there.

"You guys... what are you doing here?"

Lando was quick. "Oh, I was just testing a new simulator setup. Very important for the development of the car and eventually my girlfriend came along, she's a mechanical engineer and she had doubts about something."

"Ah. Okay!" The engineer nodded innocently and left the room. Closing the door again.

Y/n and Lando looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Hey, good excuse huh!"

"Isn't it? I'm really amazing!"

They exited the simulator still laughing, and Lando intertwined his fingers with hers, with Y/n resting her head on his shoulder, as they walked through the corridors.

The rain that had been threatening to fall since early finally began to beat against the windows of McLaren's headquarters, but Lando didn't seem to care. He looked at Y/n as if she was the only important thing there.

And for him, indeed, it was.

Author: When I had the idea I thought it would be really cool, but I ended up not liking the story very much. Sorry if it's bad😭

[littelovelunette]

vi x virgin reader, they meet at a bar and decide to go home and have sex, but reader doesn’t tell vi she’s a virgin, and gets extremely nervous during the act, so she doesn’t talk to vi and tell her what feels good. reader fakes an orgasm to get out of the situation, but vi can tell, so she asks her what’s wrong, and reader bursts out crying, explaining everything, and vi is so gentle and understanding, they have sex again, and this time there’s more communication and video makes reader feel super comfortable and safe, and afterwards there’s sweet aftercare and they fall asleep together

Fake It

Contains alcohol intoxication, smut, faking orgasm, fingering, first time reader, nipple play, clit play, praising, aftercare

You’re not the loudest in the room, nor the quietest, but something about you draws Vi's attention.

Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself—like you belong here but don’t at the same time.

Or maybe it’s the fact that you just turned down some guy who got too close, brushing him off with an effortless ease that makes Vi’s smirk return.

Curious, she leans forward, pushing off the bar and making her way toward you with the kind of confidence that doesn’t need to be forced.

"You always this good at scaring off idiots, or am I just lucky enough to catch the show tonight?" Vi’s voice is smooth but edged with amusement as she leans a little too close, resting a tattooed arm on the counter beside you.

She smells faintly of whiskey and gunpowder, like trouble wrapped in leather, but there’s something else too—something almost... inviting. Like a challenge you didn’t know you were interested in until now.

you both were all over the place kissing and making out, saliva running down vi's chin as she messily made out with you, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around her waist, oh that beautiful waist

you moaned a little in the kiss and that was all vi needed to hear. throwing some cash at the bartender to cover both of your tabs, vi dragged you out of the bar and into a small apartment. it was nothing much but enough of to fuck at.

that was the intention anyway.

vi pushed you against the wall, scarred lips finding their way on the sensitive skin of your neck as her expert hands worked onto undo the zipper of your dress, smirking a little once she saw your breasts clad with a black lacy bra, "nice bra, dolly. who you thought you were gonna impress?" vi teased

"hopefully you." you grinned and winked a little making vi chuckle, she unhooked it and let it fall towards the slowly increasing pile of clothes on the ground

her hands found their way around tits as she palmed them, "nice and soft," she whispered and bent down to suck on one of your nipple

"oh shit vi that's good," you whispered letting her suck on your tits as you ran your fingers through her hair lazily, mouth agape and head thrown back

vi bit down on your nipple making you gasp a little, she hooked her fingers around your panties and pulled them down, "oh you're so wet for me..." vi scooped up some of your wetness with a finger and tasted you, smiling at the taste of your arousal

vi gestured you to lay down on the bed and so you did a strange nervousness like never before starting to fill your chest

"you look so beautiful like this," vi licked two fingers before she traced your folds with them "you ready for me doll ?"

"m-mhm," you said with a little uncertainty that didnt go unnoticed but since you had consented vi presumed it was okay to proceed

her slender fingers dipped inside your slit starting to move slowly making you feel several emotions at once and that's when you realised, you had never really been able to make yourself cum and whenever you watched porn before, you've seen the women squirt and cum so easily when sexually stimulated, that made you wonder what if you were the problem.

masking your inner turmoil, you let out a soft moan when vi's thumb found your clit gently rubbing it and pressing it, the pressure sure was delicious but then you wondered why you didn't feel the 'knot in your lower tummy' like you read in eroticas and young adult books

you wrapped your arms around vi and put your head over her shoulder so she wouldn't be able to see your face as her fingers continued their ministrations, "vi it feels so good," you whispered over her shoulder

your words were true of course... but you just didn't know when was the right time to cum or when you're supposed to, you've never ever had an orgasm in your life, you're torn and overwhelmed now- what should you do, you thought but nothing really came to your mind

i think i should just fake it

"vi i think im gonna cum," you whispered and whined as vi's fingers got faster then, her thumb pressing harder against your clit as she drove her fingers deeper making you gasp a little at the intensity

you pretended that you came, body tensing up and all breath hitching and pussy clenching around her digits before you let your limbs fall back down, back flat against the mattress

vi furrowed her eyebrows, "darling." she started and that made your heart drop. she knew.

"i've had a lot of flings and shit in the past, I know a fake orgasm when I see one, better yet cause one," vi said, pulling her fingers out slowly and wiping the love juices off against the sheets hastily

you didnt know what to do and before you could control it tears started to stream down your cheeks alarming vi

"baby, hey, hey hey it's okay i was just saying, I wanna know what's up, hey, cmon talk to me," vi pulled you in for a hug and let you rest your face against her chest

"i just- i guess i watched a lot of porn in my life and it's just that," you sniffled, "they cum and squirt within minutes into the intercourse and whenever I masterbated I never was able to make myself have an orgasm and i dont know why maybe theres something wrong with me!"

"nothings wrong with you," vi said instantly before sighing a little, "hey it's okay, just talk to me and tell me what feels good yeah? we can work this out."

"but ive never had sex before i don't know what feels good because I've never had someone else do it for me it's always been me myself." you said trying to wipe your tears away as you fought to spoke despite your throat feeling closed up

"that's fine this time we'll communicate when I touch you you'll tell me if it feels good and if it doesn't, I'll understand and I'll make you have a real orgasm, got it princess?" vi smiled gently

"m-mhm... im sorry ill try to talk..." you mumbled out and vi nodded, "that's a good girl you're learning."

vi helped you lay back down trailing kisses down all the way around your neck and collarbone, "so beautiful, my love." she sucked a dark purple spot over your collarbone making you cry out in pleasure, grabbing the sheets with both hands.

vi interlaced fingers with yours using her right hand while her left hand trailed down to cup your wet pussy, rubbing the sensitive clit with her knuckle before replacing it with her thumb.

her fingers were opening your folds up again as two fingers dipped right back inside your wet awaiting slit. "o-oh..." you moaned softly as you felt her fingers go knuckles deep inside, "feels good?" vi asked and you nodded after a little bit of contemplating, "it's good..."

"good girl now tell me how this feels," vi said and pressed your clit using her thumb and started rubbing circles over it making your back arch as you instinctively tried to grind against her touch, "t-too good!" you whined out and vi smirked at the sight of you so vulnerable and pleasured

she was feeling a sense of satisfaction by just watching you reacting so responsively to her touch, especially her thumb on your clit.

vi's fingers worked diligently pumping inside you finding the little textured bit and started rubbing there as she added a third finger making you gasp and moan loudly, your thighs begun shaking as she continued her ministrations

her work on your clit was getting faster making you gasp and moan loudly pretty much like those pornstars you had seen and let influence your thoughts and actions prior to your communication with vi

this felt heavenly and you felt a tingly sensation starting to cross your abdomen, no— lower abdomen, making you whine and bite your bottom lip to hold back the scream threatening to lip your now red lips

"cmon, give your first to me all to me," vi whispered seductively in your ears before she bit the side your neck you screamed in pleasure and your juices squirted out of your pussy coating fingers and the sheets beneath, it was a small stream but it still was something

"you did so well darling." vi pulled her fingers back and licked them seductively smirking down at your figure she was clearly proud of herself for taking your first and you were happy it was her.

i had written an elaborate part for the aftercare here but it got error-ed out due to my shitty network connection, im fuming and won't write it again bc im so pissed istg (might edit it in later)

you both cleaned up later and had a shower together eating some dried fruits after and a glass of water. you were on the counter top, wearing a loose shirt of vi's

"mm... im exhausted lovely wanna get in bed?"

"change the sheets first," you demanded and vi laughed a little before she pulled you to the bed so you could help her change the sheets which you did gladly

once the bed was made freshly again, you both got in bed and vi pulled the blankets over her figure and yours, kissing you on the ehad

"goodnight lovely."

"goodnight, baby."

[that-butch-archivist]

"I have a thin stack of photographs from my fiftieth birthday party. This morning I've drawn them from a crumpled white envelope to look at them for the first time since that evening. I've delayed looking--the weight the pictures carry is heavy. That night there were flowers, candles, jazz, blues, and salsa, party favors that uncurled like snakes, and a huge sugary cake. My two beautiful grown sons and I and my beloved Leslie gathered with friends in an echoing room. There I usually sat at long tables in political meetings, shoulder to shoulder with others, listening, talking, our hands busy stuffing envelopes for our next demonstration. But that night the room was transformed with balloons, streamers, banners--and photographs everywhere. Leslie had set up tall cardboard stands with pictures documenting my "fifty years of love and struggle." At the center were pictures of me and my sons. [...] Them at seven and eight, sitting knee to knee on top of my VW bug--I am standing by the open car door, one hand turning nervously against the other. I'm about to drive the children back to their father, who wrested custody of them from me. He has had me declared an unfit mother, because I am a lesbian. In all the pictures of us together we are smiling. There are no snapshots of the moments of terrible pain--the images that flash through memory over and over, like a home movie of agony. [...] Perhaps every family album has these private pictures, the stories we try to guess at from a few hidden whispers and the grief-struck eyes above someone's smiling mouth. [...] This is the family album of one of the many of us who have been told that we are not fit to have a family, told that we can stay in the family only if we are quiet and invisible, told not to "flaunt" our life, not to make a scene. [...] One June day, in his teenage years, my oldest called to talk about a video he'd just seen on public television, a documentary about gay families. I said to him, "You know, I've never asked how you've felt about my being a lesbian, how you think it's affected you." And he said, "Your being a lesbian didn't affect me. What hurt me was not being able to have you with me." My story is but one of many, that of a woman who mothered her children almost in isolation for years. Who struggled to hold them as a family even though the law decreed that they could not enter her home if she shared it with another adult. Who strove to teach them connection to the forbidden others in her life, those who might give them a new kind of family, a different kind of world, where no people would lose their family because of hatred against how they love or the color of their skin, because of their despised femaleness or their poverty. [...] I unfold the creased envelope. The pictures from that birthday night show the four of us standing awkwardly together. One son smiles but looks down; the other frowns, turned inward. My smile is tense, Leslie's face is drawn and tired from a recent illness. Yet beyond that snapshot are moments when we are smiling. The four of us piling into a car later that night, crammed in with presents, cards, chrysanthemums, and cake, laughing giddily that we are like a clown car in the circus, like a party ready to burst out when a door opens, everything in hand that we need for another feast. [...] We have fought to claim our lives with each other despite years that we have been physically, forcibly, separated. Despite years of no words to explain to others what we are to each other. How--despite what law, custom, religion may say--we are heart of each others' hearts."

-- Excerpted from "Family Album," Minnie Bruce Pratt's foreword for Love Makes A Family: Portraits of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Parents and Their Families. (Emphasis in bold my own.)

Year of publication: 1999

[in-som-niyah]

YOU 🫵, i just read your two posts on attentive! jason and i am giggling, blushing, kicking my legs, twirling my hair! i wished to see if you’d be able to write anything with jason and an anemic! reader, totes cool if not ofc!

a/n: LMAO I FEEL HUNTED WITH THAT INTRO PLS and omfg i love that you love it!!! and ur lucky i'm a people pleaser so here you go <3 (*** ALSO im writing from a persepctive of iron deficiency anemia, not sickle cell)

---

Jason knows hunger. He understands it intimately; the twist of your stomach when you know the little food you have in the cupboard has to last the rest of the week. The jealousy of kids whose parents can just get lunch for them when they forget it at home. The all-consuming feeling of a void in your body, but still having to carry on.

Jason Todd knows how fragile you become when you don't have the proper nutrients, which is why he takes nutrition extremely seriously.

Whether you're forgetting to eat or always finding yourself eating empty calories, Jason will not stand for your poor eating habits if you have them.

As soon as he notices a pattern of excessive fatigue and dizziness he's asking questions and hauling you to a doctor. Iron supplements are an absolute must, and he won't stop looking for alternatives since he knows you hate the taste. He cooks meals with iron-dense foods, and will find all kinds of ways to hide spinach in your diet.

Smoothie? Spinach.

Spaghetti sauce? Spinach.

Creamy pasta sauce? Spinach.

All blended, of course, but he still makes sure you eat enough and stay on top of it. He never makes you feel stupid for slipping up either; he'll pick you up form wherever you are and hand you something to much on while you get home.

Jason always pays attention to you, but it's heightened when he knows you're busy or in a rush, since you're more likely to overexert yourself and forget to take care of yourself.

The first sign of your dizziness, he's behind you and walking you over to somewhere you can sit. He goes to get you water and make sure nobody around you is asking too many questions.

At home, ye's always massaging your limbs when they fall asleep, so much so that you can count on him to massage the leg that slots underneath his when you wake up together.

Jason feeds you and takes care of your health because he never got to as a kid, and the people in his life that should have, didn't. (ouchie)

---

[jaegahh]

plsss make mikasa headcannons 🙏🙏👨‍🍼🤾‍♂️🗑️

GIRLFRIEND MIKASA HEADCANONS ᯓᡣ𐭩

content: sfw, female! Reader, fluff, bit of smoking mentioned <3

Mikasa’s strong. Like, really, really strong. She’s effortlessly able to pick you up. The ease of doing so always leads to her swooping you up in her arms when you’re too tired to walk up the stairs of your shared loft. She adores how soft you look in her arms.

Mika’s obsessed with your cooking. OBSESSED. Coming home to a warm plate of food you fixed for her after a long hour at the gym is like coming home to heaven. She’ll definitely make sure you know it, too.

Also because she can’t cook to save her life.

She’s definitely the type to be up at the ass crack of dawn. I’m talking 5:30 am, going on a morning jog, heading to the gym, working on something hands-on.. or sometimes just for the sake of being up. She always makes sure to give you a kiss before she leaves, of course.

Her phone is filled with pictures of you. All 1,209 of ‘em. Her lock screen is her favorite one, where you’re smiling and so beautiful in the pretty beach dress you wore when she first asked to be your girlfriend. It was your senior year of high school, and ever since then you two have been inseparable.

You’ll say something about a new TikTok challenge or a new meme you found while scrolling on Instagram and she’ll nod at you without a clue. She’s a bit behind on pop culture references and things like that :(.. Probably because she’s always off doing something productive.

She’s big on games— especially storymodes, though she doesn’t mind the occasional online multiplayer ones. Any free time she’s got is gonna be spent on her PC playing video games. Usually Red Dead Redemption 2, The Last of Us, Life is Strange.. sometimes Fortnite (she’s definitely a chapter 1 season 1 player don’t play w herr). Every once in a while she’ll force you to play something together. Scary games in particular. God, she loves making you play horror games.

“Im scared! Miki where did that thing go? It was just—,” suddenly, the monster jump-scares you and you’re screaming— almost falling off your girlfriend’s chair. You stare at the screen with a pounding heart and furrowed eyebrows, noting the ‘respawn’ button as you were killed for the millionth time now. You huff in frustration.

“Bye! I am not playing this game no more.” You turn to face Mikasa, when you see her laughing.

You cross your arms. “What’s so funny!?” Mika tries to stop giggling, but the cheeky pout on your face only makes her laugh even harder.

“‘M sorry, you’re just too cute. We can play that roblox game now if you want.” Mikasa giggles, as she exits off the game for you. Pressing a sweet peck to your nape, she gestures for you to flip your position on her lap. Now straddling her waist, you sigh with relief as she rubs soft circles onto your back, thankful that horror is over.

With a calmer heart, you turn to log into your account on the computer. “Let’s play Dress to Impress?”

Giving your cheek a little kiss, she whispers, “Whatever you want, baby.”

She’s very easily flustered. You would tell her she looks pretty and she’s already turning red. It’s adorable how bashful she gets 😭

She’s very, very, veryyy protective. Sometimes even too much. Always has you plastered to her, with an arm around your waist or a possessive hand around your hip. She never leaves you out of sight, even if its a quick grocery run or a shopping day at the mall— you’ll be right in front of her, and she’ll be right behind you. She always has a glowering look on her face, and if her overwhelming body language didn’t scare away lingering stares, then the threatening look on her face sure did. She’d never want anything to happen to her precious girl :(

That also applies to her doing absolutely everything for you. Carrying a bag? She’s got it. Need to run a quick errand? Don’t worry, she’s already grabbed the keys. Too tired to walk up the stairs? She’ll carry you. Heading to book an appointment for a massage? Like hell she’s letting someone touch you. She’ll have the 5-star experience at home.

Her physique is sooo delicious. She’s got strong arms, toned legs, defined abs.. she’s just so fit. Always sends you pictures of her at the gym, all sweaty and pretty for you.

Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, gently caressing your back.. she lovess to feel you relax in her touch. Really, it’s cause she loves to always have her hands on you. You’re just too gorgeous.

Loves back hugs. There’s just something so sweet about being able to hold you so tenderly, pressing warm kisses to your neck. Definitely her favorite type of hug.

Has to have you sat on her lap. There’s just no other way. When you watch movies together, play video games, when you’re having a quick smoke sesh, when you’re kissing— she’s always gonna have you pulled right onto her. She loves seeing you sat so prettily on top of her

LOVES when you get a new set of nails. Bonus points if they’re long, charmed ones. They feel so good when they’re wrapped around her pretty neck when your making out.

Kissing you is her favorite thing; if it’s on your lips, on your cheekbone, on the spot right in between your eyebrows, anywhere on your body— but she especially loves to kiss your neck. Always before going to sleep, she’ll make sure to snuggle up real close and litter you with kisses all over your face and neck before letting you rest. she just loves you too much

Mika always makes you feel loved. Whether that’s through sweet gifts she spoils you with, thoughtful gestures, passionate kisses, or loving words. She’s just perfect.

A/N: HI BABIES!!! I apologize for the fat text coming up. it’s been one hell of a 2 years. this was just rotting up in my drafts, along with countless other works i haven’t had the time nor motivation to finish. so so sorry for the late response nonnie. this isn’t proofread, and unfortunately isn’t too organized either. the writing and characterization might also suck.. as it’s been quiteee a long time 😅. also, i didn’t use the “Girlfriend!Mikasa who (..)” start.. but i think i might for other works in the future?? would you like that? lmk! I feel like tumblr has moved on from the usual bullet point nd dump haha. sorry again sweetheart! hope this was alright for uuu <3 i will try my hardest to be more active for u guys soon!! MWA💋💋

[hiraizyo]

two worlds apart.

pairing: manon bannerman x female reader

synopsis — being a daughter to a duke and duchess, manon knew she had little to no say as to who she would end up with. that didn’t stop her from seeking out others, specifically you, the daughter of a barman, whom she had become completely enthralled by. the only problem? you were of different social status to manon, and oh, what a scandal it would be if anyone were to find out.

tags — fluff, angst, suggestive, slight nsfw, forbidden love, royalty!au, lady!manon, commoner!yn, secret relationship

now playing: astronomy, conan gray

a/n: icl i don’t understand how i haven’t written for manon before like i have SOOO MANY ideas for her 😔😔 there is somewhat of an attempt at old english to fit the time period but the language is still kind of modern fyi. i hope you enjoy, sorry for any typos or spelling mistakes !

++ inspired by this ask. i apologize for taking so long, i’m also kissing the brick gently… before throwing it </3

manon’s laughter was bright and full of life, her giggles like music to your ears as her fingers tangled with yours and pulled you along with her. the wind whipped past your face, cold air of the nightlife briskly kissing your skin while your legs carried you in urgency, trying to keep up with the ghanaian woman. her curls bounced as she ran, much further ahead of you, the only thing keeping you attached to her was the grip she had on you.

it wasn’t just the sight of manon that had your heart racing, but also the adrenaline rushing through your veins from sneaking out into the night, your only chance of being able to see her.

you had lost count of how many times you’d done this before, though now you were much better skilled than when you and manon first began your relationship. you knew when to leave the house, which route was best to take for your shared secret place, how to be discreet with your stares when out in public.

“darling,” you called out, smiling at her. “why are you making such haste?”

manon looked back briefly. “why are you not?” she countered, flashing you a teasing grin.

a couple more steps was taken before manon stopped, her breathing heavy, as was yours. she yanked you down with her to the ground, falling back together on the grass in a fit of laughter, facing the starry sky.

“this is our one night together before i am to leave for the countryside.” she turned to face you, staring at your side. “i wish for it to be special.”

propping yourself on your elbow, you were slightly leaning over manon, looking down at her. “every moment spent together is special, my darling.”

she shuffled closer so that she was tucked below your arm, her smile soft and dashing. manon reached out to caress your cheek, thumb grazing over the cheekbone and leaned up to press her lips against yours in a sweet kiss.

the kiss was short lived, and when yours eyes fluttered open once again, nothing would have prepared you for the sight that resided in front of you.

you grinned, “have i ever told you how utterly gorgeous you are?” gripping onto her hand that rested on your cheek, you placed a kiss against it.

“you flatter me, ms. yn.” manon replied, her voice teasing, yet at the same time knowing.

“but it is true!” you declared, arching a brow at her. manon hummed as you continued. “i believe even the gods weep at your beauty.”

manon let out a loud laugh, though her heart stuttered in her chest. she couldn’t contain the smile that was battling to break free, her teeth grazing the soft flesh of her bottom lip.

“oh hush,” she tittered, and dragged her finger down from your nose until it reached your lips, tapping it twice. “you ought to put that mouth of yours to better use.”

you eyes danced over the soft features of her face, gazing from her dilated pupils to the curve of her nose, from the corner of her mouth to her exposed neck. you smiled gently, leaning forward, close enough that she felt your breath on her.

“as you wish, my lady.”

silencing manon with another kiss, your hand found its way to the small of her back while hers cupped your cheek once again. she kissed you back with vigor, her tongue dipping inside your mouth. you moaned as she let out a breathless sigh, your kisses traveling across her jaw and down to her neck. she leaned back, allowing you to have better access, and pulled on your hair tightly when she felt your teeth nip her skin.

you planted open mouth kisses across her collarbones, while your hand traveled lower, quickly and messily pushing the frills of her dress away. dipping your hand between her legs, slick wetness coated your fingers. the cream coloured material was quickly bunched in your tight grip as you moved to positioned yourself between her now bent knees, kissing the inside of her thighs, traveling to where she needed you most. the last thing you had seen before going beneath her dress was manon’s head thrown back, her gasps echoing around you as she lost herself in the ecstasy.

a while later, after manon had calmed down from her post orgasm bliss, she watched as you resurfaced, licking your lips clean. you hung above her, arm on either side of her and harshly kissed her for the third time. her fingers trailed over the back of your neck, pulling you down until your body pressed against hers.

when you’d finally separated from one another, you shuffled around, laying sideways, and settled to rest your head in her lap, silently counting the stars. manon sat up and leaned back on her hands, facing upwards with her eyes closed as she basked in the moment with you, a warmth encompassing her.

the cool temperature of the night provided great relief to the heat of your skin. it was quiet, the only sound being howls hooting from nearby trees.

“for how long will you be gone?”

manon looked down at you, regretfully. “i am not certain, a week or two.” she announced, moving her one hand from the grass to rake through your hair. “father has business to take care of, but he still wants the family to be together.”

you nodded, leaning into her touch. a soft exhale left you from the soothing sensation of her nails against your scalp. “i must confess a week away from you is too torturous for one to bear.”

“surely your heart can take it.” manon teased, her lips curved into a smile. she twirled a few strands of your hair around her finger.

“it cannot,” you uttered, staring at her longingly. “my heart calls your name.”

manon’s breath hitched in her throat. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you shower her with romantic words, but each time you did, she could feel herself falling deeper and deeper.

“as does mine,” she admitted, her smile widening. her voice then lowered into a whisper, “i will be back before you know it.”

you looked up at her, wetting your lips with a swipe of your tongue. “i love you, more than you will ever know.”

the warmth that engulfed manon was unlike any other as she repeated the words back to you. your hand traveled up to where hers was, linking your fingers together and squeezed. your eyes shone with affection as manon squeezed back, a silent promise that you’d be together once again.

the days without manon had proven to be difficult. they were slow, almost lacking life. you busied yourself with helping your mother around the house, taking care of your younger brother, and assisted your father at his bar. though it was frowned upon for a woman to be seen working, you endured the strange looks of the many lords and other men that occupied the place.

you kept careful watch of how long it’d been since manon left. seven nights had passed already, and you ached for her more than ever. the longest you’d been apart was three days, courtesy of the ghanaian’s lack of free time and the many balls she had to attend.

it was nightfall and you found yourself sitting at the window seat, a forgotten book in hand. the glass showed your reflection, but your eyes were on the moon above. the only thing that brought you comfort was knowing that somewhere, out there, manon was staring too.

with a sigh, you shut the book closed and shoved it back into the bookcase between the others. you walked into the chambers of your room, and with a heavy heart, willed yourself to fall asleep.

the following day, you repeated everything that you’d been doing from the start of the week. the only difference was a letter had been delivered to you once you reached home later that night. the stamp of the bannerman seal was on the flap of the envelope. you peeled apart the sealing wax, opening it hastily, taking out the piece of paper with rushed hands. manon’s handwriting was neat, only three words present.

nightfall. bannerman manor.

— m.

your eyes glistened with unshed tears. finally, after so long, you’d be able to see her.

it wasn’t long before you were out the house, sneakily closing the door and ventured out into the night. though you were confused as to why manon requested you at her place, it didn’t stop you from taking the journey.

carefully, you trudged along the outskirts of the manor, attentive as to not get caught by the surrounding guards. it was dark, so dark that you had to squint your eyes tightly in order to see.

manon was close by, she’d snuck passed the servants of the manor, quiet as a mouse. once near the gates, she quickly caught sight of you from the silhouette of your movements and the crunching of leaves beneath your feet. slowly, manon approached you from behind, tapping your shoulder.

you jumped from fight, a gasp escaping you. you turned around, with widened eyes and a fearful heart that you’d been caught. manon clamped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, her own eyes shining with mischief. she then glanced around to be sure no one had heard you.

you sighed in relief, shoulders slumping forward. with a delicate touch, you peeled manon’s hand away from your mouth, a short, breathless laugh of nervousness leaving you. she tangled your fingers together, and turned to walk back in the direction she’d come from. you knitted your eyebrows together, out of both confusion and fear, but manon only placed a finger against her lips, telling you to be silent.

she took one last look to be sure that no one was around to see you and her, and pulled you along with her. you followed meekly, almost stumbling over your own feet.

the inside of the manor had you looking around in astonishment, the tall walls and intricate designs of white and gold were beautiful. you’d never seen anything like, the pure admiration on your face caused manon to giggle, finding your shock humorous.

soon, you’d made your way to her room.

the door shut behind her, and manon leaned her back against it, beaming at you. still with panic in set in your body, your frightened voice was heard in the dimly lit room, a candle burning in the corner.

“what is this?” you hissed, “why are we here?”

“is that how you greet someone you’ve missed dearly?” manon tilted her head to the side, a fire dancing about in her eyes.

you blinked, “no, but this is far too dangerous!” gesturing to the door, you hinted at what lurked behind it. “what if someone had seen us?”

manon paid no mind to your frantic state. she took prolonged, deliberate steps toward you, a smirk set in place. when she finally reached you, her pointer finger ran along the edge of your jaw, almost as if she was taunting you.

“kiss me.”

your voice shook, “manon—”

“i saw you today,” she flicked her gaze up to your eyes. “with a girl awfully close to you.” manon quickly retracted her finger, like she had been burned, and it felt as if her hand was never there at all. “is that what you do when i’m not here? entertain others?”

as you took in her words, you noticed the tinge of aggression. they had a sharp bite to them, and the way manon’s body was rigid told you all that you needed to know.

she was jealous.

it was a sight you liked far too much for you to admit.

you stepped closer, head dipping down. “i belong to you entirely.”

manon’s eyes connected with yours, her stare so intense that it had your insides tingling. her voice was husky, “is that so?”

“i swear it.” you mumbled, leaning in further. your hand gripped her waist, the layer of fabric being on the only thing keeping you from feeling your skin against hers.

manon tilted her head up to meet your lips in a featherlight kiss, her lips barely brushing against yours. you pulled away, your other hand sweeping your knuckles across her cheek.

“i dreamt of you while you were away.” you confessed, the tenderness in your voice a stark contrast to the tension between you and manon.

she tugged you closer by your neck, “now there is no need to dream any longer.”

whatever else you wanted to say was stuffed down as manon pressed a rough kiss to your lips. you stumbled back from the force, furrowing your eyebrows as you kissed her passionately.

she trailed her hand down to your ribcage, holding it tightly. her other hand held was placed on your ribcage as well, as she pushed you back until you collided with the dresser in her room. the wooden furniture knocked against the wall, the sound loud and rattled around the room.

manon’s lips were bruised by the time she moved her attention to your neck, while you fought with every bit of strength left in you not to rip the back strings of her dress, desperate to feel her. a soft moan slipped out your mouth as manon littered kisses over your skin, feeling your throat bob up and down you as swallowed. your hands made a mess of her curls, bringing her back up to connect your lips once again, teeth harshly clashing against one another.

unbeknownst to you and manon, her lady’s maid stood behind the door, listening in. a hand covered her mouth, the impure sounds she’d heard frightening her.

two days came and went.

that morning, manon felt as if something dark was lingering in the air, awaiting her presence. it wasn’t until she’d been called in to her father’s study when the ball finally dropped.

“tell me it is not true.” her father said, back turned to her.

the last thing manon expected when she stepped into the room was for him to bring you up. now, standing with her head down, eyes trained to the floor, she shuddered at the coldness in her father’s voice.

“it is merely a fantasy of hers.” manon replied. her hands were shaking, so she gripped them together and hid them behind her back.

her father turned around to face, his stare was hard. “you mean to call your lady’s maid a liar?”

“no!” she shrieked, tone fearful. “i-i only meant that perhaps she was… mistaken.”

manon watched as her father chuckled bitterly, and she felt a chill run down her spine. she turned her head to the side, not being able to hold her fathers dark gaze.

“mistaken? i hardly think so.” he commented, and manon felt as if she’d been cut with a blade.

she gulped down her nerves. “you take her word over mine, father?”

“your word means nothing!” he bellowed out. his face contorted into one of anger, pointing a finger at her. “if she is correct in her claims, we cannot have you bring shame upon this family, manon.”

manon had half a mind to find her lady’s maid and strip her of her job, but she stayed rooted to her spot, unable to move.

silence hung heavy in the air, it weighed on her body like a rock.

the scrapping of a chair’s legs rang in manon’s ears. her father sat down at his desk, his hands folded together. he took in a deep breath, and shut his eyes, but manon could tell this was nowhere near the end of their conversation.

“so, which is it?” he asked, and waved his hand out. slowly, his words left his mouth, falling like acid rain on manon’s skin. “tell me, or i shall have your lover slayed before your eyes.”

“you can’t!” she gasped. manon’s knees began to feel weak, she stumbled towards the desk, gripping onto the dark brown table. her eyes pleaded with him, tears threatening to fall.

manon’s father was rarely a cruel man, but as she looked into his eyes, they had an icy glare in them. her father stared at her menacingly, and she choked on her breath, feeling as if her airflow was being constricted.

“you can’t…” she whimpered brokenly, her voice lost in her throat. “please, father!”

tears leaked from her eyes, wetting her cheeks. she swiped her tongue over her lip, tasting the saltiness. as she silently begged him, her father never wavered, his jaw tense and locked.

the reality of the situation dawned on her.

manon had your life in her hands.

as if threatening you was not enough, her father’s voice was heard again, ripping all of her happiness from her brittle hands.

“you will marry lord martin’s son, and you will do so without any argument. he is a fine, suitable man, and this is the last i ever hear of that girl.”

the loud and heavy stomping of the dark brown horse was nothing compared to beating of manon’s heart. it was harsh against her ribcage, feeling as it would jump out at any moment.

cold wind whipped against her cheeks, blowing past her ears as it whistled around her. she yanked on the ropes, instructing the stallion to go faster, hooves hitting hard on the ground.

you were soon in manon’s vision, your back facing her as you took in the fresh air of the night. she slowed down the horse until it trotted your way, and she quickly dismounted it, tying the rope around a tree.

“my love.” you called upon seeing her, reaching to wrap your arms around her once she was close.

manon mustered up a smile and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, her fingers intertwining with yours. she gazed up at you, though you could tell there was something wrong, the crease in her eyebrows evident of that.

“what is that matter?” you asked, cupping her cheek softly.

manon shook her head and attempted to smile again, “nothing to fret about.” she replied, taking her hands in yours and kissed your knuckles.

her hands were smooth in comparison to your rough and dirty ones. you chuckled lightly, easily being able to see through her.

“you take me for a fool?” you quipped, raising a brow. manon sighed and leaned her head against your shoulder, falling into you.

“no.” she murmured, her lips touching your skin caused goosebumps to arise.

you ran a hand over her head, all the way down to back of her neck and rested your hand there. manon could feel the agony in her heart, knowing she had to tell you of her fathers plan to have her wed lord martin’s son. her breath hitched in her throat.

“yn, i—” she began, stopping herself.

it was difficult to hear with her head stuffed into your neck, so you placed both hands on her forearms and pulled her away. the tears that gathered below her eyes alarmed you, curiosity now settling in your chest.

“what is it?” you asked her.

manon breathed shakily, her eyes meeting with yours.

slowly and with deep sadness, she opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. manon couldn’t bare to break the news to you, but she knew she would have to eventually.

“i am to be married in three weeks.”

what?

your eyes widened, body going stiff.

manon sensed the stillness of your movements, taking in a sharp breath and shuddered. she hastily grabbed at your hands, her eyes frantic.

“my father, he—” she said, pausing at the fear she felt after the night in the office. “he hreatened to have you killed. i couldn’t let you die!”

shaking off the stunned feeling, you swallowed heavily and pulled up one of manon’s hands to press it against your chest. beneath her palm, manon could feel your heart beating. it was steady, a reminder that you were still alive and breathing. you needed to calm her down.

“shh, hey, it’s alright.” you whispered, trying to derail the situation. “i am here, i’m alive.”

you brows were knitted together as you stared deep in manon’s eyes. tears freely rolled down her cheeks, no longer being able to contain her emotions, sanity quickly slipping away.

“i don’t want to leave you.” she whimpered, her voice cracking.

at her vulnerable state, your own tears began to well in your eyes. you blinked them away, trying to stay strong for the both of you, but it was difficult when you felt as if you were being ripped apart.

you hushed her once again when she began to murmur under her breath, a mess of words and syllables that sounded foreign to your years.

it was a rare sight to see manon so defeated.

you took in a gasped breath, your voice lost. manon was quick to pull you against her, wrapping her arms around your midsection, holding you close to her as her mind ran a mile a minute, swirling with thoughts of how your relationship would survive.

she wasn’t thinking clearly, her judgement clouded by heartbeat and the unfairness of having to marry someone she did not love.

manon wouldn’t let this be the end.

she pulled away quick, her words falling out in a tumble. “we will run away— together! we can find a place, somewhere we can be free.”

her eyes were hopeful. it broke your heart even further to deny her of her solutions.

you shook your head violently, “no.” the shake in your voice contrasted with the somewhat firm answer. manon stared at you in disbelief, her eyes held a hint of betrayal.

you cupped her cheeks, “there is nothing i desire more than to have you, and i did. for a little while.” you admitted softly, pressing your foreheads against one another. “but i cannot ask you to break your family’s heart over me.”

manon was no longer feeling that sadness, instead she was angry, livid, at how easy it was for you to give the relationship up. her breathing quickened, putting some distance between you and her, her hand gesturing around the air.

she narrowed her eyes, “so instead we should suffer?”

“it is the sensible thing to do.” you told her, now finding the strength to harden your voice.

you knew from the very start of your relationship it would end at some point. after all, it was against social norms for someone of manon’s prestige to be with you, and it was even worse for it to be two women. and though it broke your heart to do this, you couldn’t let manon suffer the repercussions of going against her father.

“but i love you!” she shouted, vision blurry. “i love you, and i want— i want us to be together.”

your heart broke further from the desperation in her voice, seeing manon visually spiraling, clawing at the remnants of what once was.

you took a step towards her, pressing your lips against hers in an earth-shattering kiss. your brows furrowed together as you poured every ounce of emotion into the kiss. manon grasped her hands to your waist, her grip tight, fingers digging into your sides.

she breathed heavily, tear stained cheeks glistening in the moonlight as your own tears finally fell.

you hugged her close, setting your chin atop her head. “i know it is hard, but you must—” manon’s head vigorously shook in your chest. “you must do this, okay?”

manon let out a sob, the sound caused for your heart to shatter even more.

“my darling.” you mumbled, “my beautiful, beautiful manon.” pressing another kiss to her lips, you placed her hand over your chest once again. “you will forever be here.”

the cry that left manon was so strong it could shake the world. her lips quivered, shoulders slumping forward.

“my heart calls your name.” she told you brokenly, the words like a chant that reminded you you’d always have these memories to look back on.

“mine too,” a sob now ripped from your throat. “it always will.”

you fell into one another, once again desperately holding onto each other for dear life. your rough hands were gripped tightly, and she squeezed her arms to press your closer against her.

it hurt to let her go, but you had to, for her own safety and yours.

you needed to.

your breathing went shallow, almost as if the sharp edges of your broken heart were scraping against your lungs. the physical pain was evident on your face, tears never ending.

“now, leave.” you announced, looking up at the starry sky. “if you stay any longer… i may never let you go.”

manon bit down her lip so hard it drew blood, the effort it took to let you go was the most difficult thing she’d ever done.

she made quick work of untying the rope and mounting the animal, riding off into the dark night, a piece of her being left with you. as you watched manon ride away on her horse, you felt yourself finally crumble, succumbing to the deep pressure on your heart and the pain that raked through your body.

another cry left you, looking up at the stars, reminding yourself that even if you once had manon, it was doomed from the start.

the harsh truth felt like a slap to the face.

you and manon, no matter how much you tried, would always be two worlds apart.

so likeeee will i be forgiven for this or 🧍

[slytherinshua]

꩜　EMOTIONS OVER LAUNDRY　( 최연준 )

genre hurt/comfort , parent au , husband!yeonjun x fem!reader   cw they have a newborn daughter , mention of struggling to conceive , yeonjun crying , small mention of postpartum/newborn anxiety , not proofread   wc 917   request 🥟 anon for yeonjun + folded laundry for the 3k event   note still in my txt era so bad and also yeonjun :( our healing i love him so much he would be such a good dad </3 i've been listening to love sailing by cha eunwoo the entire time while writing this and i am NOT okay it's 3 am and i may cry   net @kstrucknet @moadiarynet

You didn’t expect to come home to see your husband crying while folding laundry. At first, you thought something must be seriously wrong. Yeonjun was always fairly emotional, but you hadn’t seen him cry since you gave birth to your baby girl Yejin two weeks ago. He wasn’t one to cry over little things, and the tears only started falling when he was stressed or upset or overwhelmed with emotion. Seeing his red nose and puffy eyes sitting in the middle of the living room floor took you off guard. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” You were holding your newborn in one arm and shrugging off your jacket with the other, eyes glancing over your baby’s face once again. 

The new mother anxiety was something you had somewhat anticipated and prepared for. But just how anxious and paranoid you were over your newborn child still surprised you. It was like if you took your eyes off of her for more than ten seconds, something horrible was bound to happen to her. Your mind was put at ease to find her still sleeping soundly in your arms. The walk around the newbourhood in her stroller had tired her out, and carrying her back inside did nothing to wake her.

Your husband looked up at you with fresh tears in his eyes and a pout on his lips, sniffing quietly. You walked over to where he was sitting, gently transferring Yejin to her newborn rocker where she could continue napping safely. Then, you turned to your husband and raised an eyebrow as if to reiterate your previous question without verbally stating it again. 

“It’s nothing, just…” Yeonjun trailed off with a sigh, a light pink baby onesie on one of his hands. The garment was so small compared to him. Even the small stacks of neatly folded clothes looked tiny, although it was nearly half your daughter’s wardrobe. 

“She’s so small,” Yeonjun whispered, another tear rolling down his cheek. Immediately, you understood exactly where all the emotions were coming from. It happened to you a few times as well when Yejin was particularly cute or you remembered just how long you and Yeonjun had tried for a child, all the struggle it took to get to this point. It was all worth it for her, your perfect little bundle of joy. Even looking at her brought a smile to your face. Even though it had been hard, for her, you would do it all again in a heartbeat. 

“And—and, I was folding her clothes, and they’re all just so small, just like her. And she’s so, so cute, and she’s really ours. It doesn’t feel real that she’s finally here. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up one day and realize this was all a dream, like we’re back a few years ago still trying for her,” Yeonjun breathed, words mumbled in his choked up voice. 

You shifted closer to him, brushing a hand up and down his back as he leant into your touch. With how often Yeonjun had comforted you and wiped your tears away during pregnancy, now it was your turn to do the same for him. 

You had taken it hard back then. Every negative test, every piece of false hope, every month that went by without progress; your husband was there to comfort you through it all. He stayed firm and strong when you weren’t able to. You knew he had been holding back his own feelings on it for you, not wanting to show how much it affected him too. You’d be blind to not see how much it was hurting him as well. He had always wanted a family just as much as you had, and you knew just how happy he was to have finally been able to start one. 

It was just an emotional journey. 

Yeonjun fully rested his head on your shoulder, warm tears dripping onto your shirt. You didn’t mind. You just continued to stroke his back, reaching out to hold one of his hands and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Yeonjun couldn’t stay strong forever. Although it had been two weeks since you came home from the hospital, it felt like today was the first time you truly got to relax and breathe. Caring for a newborn was nonstop, and you were both running on sleepless nights and parenting anxiety. You worked through it like you did anything, though. As long as you had each other, you were sure things would turn out okay. 

“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun whispered after minutes of silence. “I didn’t mean to get so emotional all of a sudden.” He pulled back from the hug and sent you a small smile, assuring you silently that he was okay, that those small moments of comfort were all he needed. He carefully folded the small onesie he was still holding and placed it on top of the stack of other similar ones. 

Leaning over the baby rocker, he smiled brightly at his daughter. Still sleeping soundly without a care in the world, wrapped up in a soft yellow onesie. Her hands were balled into little tiny fists, so small that they could barely wrap around Yeonjun’s thumb. 

He brushed a few fingers over Yejin’s head and soft wispy strands of hair. It was peaceful watching her sleep, and a feeling of reassurance washed over Yeonjun. He was her dad, and he loved her more than anything in the world. He’d sacrifice everything for her— his perfect little angel. 

txt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions,, @cham3li,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @stantxtforabetterlife,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hyukabean,, @nicholasluvbot,, @i03jae

[system-to-the-madness]

Perfect - Zuko x Reader

Pairing: Zuko x fem!Reader Word Count: 2 715 Warnings: mentions of kidnapping of children, child slavery, war Summary: After the war is over, Zuko shares his worries with you A/N: Can be read as a oneshot; Part Eleven (aka the Last Part) of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you)

Zuko's fingertips were grazing the surface of the pond's water, creating gentle ripples in their path. A turtle duck chick came paddling over, nudging his warm fingers with its cool beak. Pushing his hand underneath the hard shell, he fished the chick out of the water, which, used to the motion, relaxed its legs and patiently waited to be settled down in the folds of his dark red robe where his fingers absentmindedly stroked the top of its feathered head.

It had been two months since the war had ended, since Aang had defeated Zuko's father and Zuko been crowned as Fire Lord. And if he had thought he could relax a little after that, he had been completely wrong about it.

There were treaties he had to make with the other kingdoms. Under his command the colonies in the earth kingdom had started to be dissolved. And there was the matter of these re-education facilities for kidnapped earth kingdom children. Together with him you had freed your sister from one, but as Fire Lord he had learned of three more of these schools. A total of almost two thousand kidnapped kids. Some had been separated from their parents at such a young age for such a long time that there was no hope of finding their families. Some children had been already reunited with theirs, others were still searching. And if Zuko was being honest, it was a tragedy.

There were families that had been whipped out, no parents left, children who would forever keep looking for their mothers or fathers and never find them. There were parents, who's infants had been taken years ago, who now looked at the faces of a bunch of school children, trying to figure out if either of them was theirs. And in all cases, this was the most important to Zuko, it was necessary to always consider the child's happiness and wellbeing before anything else.

If there was a chance that the people claiming a child was theirs were in the wrong, there had to be thorough investigations. If people offered to adopt a child, their backgrounds had to be checked, leaving no stone unturned to figure out if there was any indication the child might suffer with their new parents. It was a hard affair. Emotional, and yet brutally rational.

It was hard carrying all this responsibility atop of his already overwhelming duties as Fire Lord, and even though a capable team was helping in the matter of the kidnapped children, he still felt like he was carrying all the weight himself. If it weren't for you, he probably wouldn't be able to catch a single wink of sleep at night.

He knew it was hard for you to be separated from your sister again, but Xiang had decided against moving into the palace with you and instead moved to Ba Sing Se with Uncle Iroh, who she seemed to have taken a liking to. Even knowing your sister was happier in Ba Sing Se than she would have been here, Zuko knew you missed her terribly.

As if the thought of you had summoned you, he heard the familiar pattern of your steps approach the pond along one of the gravel paths. Zuko lazily leant his head back, his hair falling into his neck as he watched you walk over to him, a soft smile on your face as you approached him. Your hair was bound in a style that seemed like a mixture of traditional Fire Nation Fashion and Earth Kingdom techniques. Your long dress played around your legs in the warm breeze of the sunny morning, and Zuko once again was hit by the realization and wonderment that this perfect person approaching him was the girl who let him love her. A smile tucked at his lips, but yours seemed to falter as you closed in.

“Am I interrupting something,” you asked, making him furrow his brows as you crouched down beside him.

“No,” he answered, although it sounded more like a question. “Why would you?”

“You look… stressed,” you observed, as you reached past him, to run your fingertips over the tiny head of the turtle duck in Zuko’s lap.

“I’m not!” He was aware himself how defensive he sounded, even before you raised your eyebrows at him. But you didn’t comment on it.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” It was a question asked without offence, one that really just asked what he wanted, and Zuko knew that if he told you he wanted to be alone, you would understand without being hurt about it. Still his answer was quicker than his own thoughts.

“No, please stay.”

You smiled at him softly and settled down in the grass beside him. The turtle duck quacked as if welcoming you.

For a while you sat in silence, Zuko occupying his hands with petting the small animal in his lap, while the only sounds around you were the soft gurgling of the brook that fed the pond and the birds singing from the roofs of the palace.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologized. “I know I’m terrible company right now. It’s just- there’s so much going on and-”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you interrupted him. “I know you have a lot of things to take care of, to think through. It would be a lot even if you had been properly prepared for this position.”

“But I’ve been neglecting you and that’s inexcusable,” Zuko frowned, unable to meet your eyes.

He flinched at the soft touch of your fingers on his cheek as you turned his head to face you. His eyes wandered from your lap over your arm, past the scar he had inflicted on you, up the curve of your neck and the bow of your lips to your mesmerizing eyes. They were warm and compassionate as you asked: “How do you think you have been neglecting me?”

Zuko furrowed his brows and bit his lip, but under your gaze it was impossible to not answer honestly. “I haven’t spent much time with you recently, haven’t been talking to you as much as I should. I want to take better care of you, but in the evenings I’m so tired that I can’t even read to you or enjoy making music together. I feel like I’ve cast you aside and you must feel as if I only use you to find comfort.”

“Do I not bring you comfort,” you asked, running your hands from his cheek down his neck and settling it in his nape, playing with the strands there. The sensation sent a shiver down Zuko’s spine, and he closed his eyes while he hummed appreciatively.

“You do,” he confirmed, “But I don’t want you to think that’s the only reason I want to be with you. I love you,” the words slipped over his lips so easily that he didn’t even notice. “And I want to be able to make you feel loved but instead I’m either locked up in councils or behind a desk the whole day and when I’m not, I’m too lost in my mind, worrying over the responsibility I carry, to pay the due attention to you.”

Zuko’s eyes were still closed, so he startled at the sensation of your lips brushing against his, an innocent kiss, much more innocent than the ones you had begun exchanging recently behind locked doors. But it was more than enough to make his heart skip a beat and his breath hitch. His eyes flickered open to finding your face right in front of his. He occasionally had to remind himself that you were a capable fighter and an increasingly skilled fire bender, because the love in your gaze made it all too easy to forget how dangerous you could be.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, pecking his lips again under his observing gaze, before you gently guided him to lay down in your lap. The turtle duck chick in his own lap adjusted to the new position, cuddling into Zuko’s hand. “And I understand that it’s hard for you. There are so many duties all of a sudden. You took over a kingdom that has been at war for the past hundred years, and now you’re trying to bring peace, righting wrongs that were committed generations ago. Nobody would claim this to be an easy task, and I hope you know how proud and impressed I am at the work you are doing alongside everyone.” As you were talking Zuko closely watched your face, the honesty and love that didn’t just shimmer in your voice but also your eyes. “I know you must feel like you are prioritizing your work over us, but please know that I don’t feel neglected at all. I know you make time to have every meal together with me, even if it doesn’t fit your schedule as nicely as your advisors would like to. And maybe you don’t talk to me all the time. But you don’t have to. You are allowed to have your own private thoughts. Which isn’t to say I am not interested in hearing what’s going on in here,” you tapped his forehead gently. “But you don’t have to feel pressured into talking to me. Or listening to me, but I’ve never felt like you didn’t listen when I wanted you to. And you are allowed to just want to sit in silence, too, you know. It’s okay, we don’t have to spend our time together always talking. We can sit in silence, too. That’s okay.”

“But wouldn’t that been boring for you,” Zuko asked, his free hand absentmindedly reaching up to the hand print shaped scar he had unintentionally left on your left arm all those months ago. “I often feel like I don’t want to talk, but I want you around. But can’t ask you to just keep me company without any entertainment.”

“Do you really think I’d only enjoy spending time with you if you entertain or reward me,” you wondered quietly, sounding almost hurt.

Zuko’s fingers brushed over the well healed, slightly raised tissue of the scar, not meeting your gaze and not answering.

“Has it ever occurred to you, that I enjoy spending time with you just because I get to be with you?”

Zuko swallowed thickly as you leant over him, your face covering the blue sky above you.

“You’re an idiot,” you accused, softly knocking your forehead against Zuko’s with a pout.

“Sorry,” he smiled embarrassedly. “It’s just… hard to comprehend, you know.”

You hummed. “I knew I agreed to date a whole bunch of insecurities alongside this pretty face, so I shouldn’t complain.”

Zuko knew you were teasing him, but the compliment didn’t fall on deaf ears and a blush crept into his cheeks.

“You know,” you sat up straight again, your fingers coming to comb through his dark hair, “I enjoy just sitting with you, we don’t have to talk or read or make music. I enjoy sitting just like this. I know you have so many things to do, that you need some time to sort out your thoughts and feelings, I need that too, sometimes. And if you want to be alone for that, you can tell me, and I’ll give you space. But if you want me to just sit with you, I’m happy to do that, too. You don’t have to be afraid to ask.”

Zuko pressed his lips together to hide their quivering. Instead, he focused on tracing your scar again while he felt the turtle duck chick in his other hand nap off.

“Do you remember that one conversation we had once? About having to give feelings space sometimes,” he asked.

You nodded quietly, beginning to braid his hair before undoing it again.

“I think I sometimes just need to do that. I don’t want to be alone for it, because I’m bad with feelings and sometimes they are scary, and having you with me makes me feel safe enough to confront these feelings. But it’s important to do it, to do it this way. And I feel like you understand me.”

You hummed quietly. “I think I do,” you agreed.

For a moment both of you were quiet, you playing with Zuko’s hair and Zuko watching you closely. The light reflecting from the surface of the pond was dancing across your face, lighting up your eyes every other moment, making your hair glow. Zuko suddenly realized that he had probably never felt as peaceful as right now. He felt comfortable, resting in your lap, feeling your warm legs underneath his head, your hands tucking his hair carefully. He felt understood by you, and appreciated. Not something he had a lot of experience with. And he wasn’t quite sure how he deserved someone so perfect at his side. He had never told you, he thought, how perfect he thought you were. So, taking this quiet moment as his chance, he voiced his feelings.

“I sometimes feel scared, because I don’t know how I could ever deserve being with someone as perfect as you, and it makes feel like I might lose you at any moment,” he confessed.

You continued playing with his hair, not meeting his eyes as you answered. “You’re not losing me,” you told him, and the confidence with which you said this was almost enough to convince him of it to be true. “Besides, I’m far from perfect.”

“No, you’re not,” Zuko disagreed determinedly. “You’re perfect. You’re perfect to me.”

Your fingers stilled in his hair and your eyes finally met his. There was a vulnerability in them, that made Zuko’s heart stutter and if your gaze hadn’t frozen him in place, he would have sat up and wrapped you in his arms.

“You really think that,” you asked quietly, and he nodded quickly, hoping his confession wouldn’t scare you off. But instead, you smiled even though he was certain he had seen tears beginning to rise in your eyes. “It makes me very happy to hear that,” you admitted and leant down to kiss his forehead.

You didn’t tell him that you thought he was perfect, too. And Zuko was glad you didn’t. Somehow it would have felt like it would have taken away from the importance of his message to you if you had, and he was happy you accepted his sentiment the way it was without feeling the need to repay the compliment. Instead, you returned to sitting back up, and braiding filigree patterns into his hair while he held the sleeping turtle duck in one hand and had the other wrapped in your dress, while watching your face over him. There were no further words exchanged between the two of you until almost two hours later a bell rung for lunch, and Zuko couldn’t deny that he had never felt more refreshed and relaxed after a break than after sitting with you, even if it was in silence.

It wasn’t until a good while later that you eventually told him you felt like he was perfect to you. It was a compliment Zuko had neither wished nor hoped for, nor expected. But of course, it made him happy to hear, although at that point it had been a knowledge that had settled deep into his soul already. It was the way you treated him every day, the way you treated each other every day, that had woven the subconscious realization into his very being. It was a form of respect you paid each other, not the respect you paid someone of authority but someone you admired. You were teasing each other, laughing with each other. You could sit in silence for hours or talk all through the night without ever growing bored of each other’s company. Of course you had disagreements, but even then, it never felt as if they threatened the bond that connected you now. And when Zuko told you about how he had fallen in love with you while saving you and Aang from Pohuai Stronghold, he admitted you your amusement and his shame, that he still didn’t know why he hadn’t understood from the first moment on how perfect you were.

The End

A/N: This concludes the series! Thank you all for reading! I've had the idea for this first almost a year back, and am now in a very different place than i was then. I finished writing my last exams of my Bachelor's degree today (assuming i don't fail), and can fully focus on writing my thesis from march on. I'm glad i finally got this story out in the world and am happy and greateful for everyone who enjoyed reading it!

Taglist:

@ghoststookourlifes

@ashcal99

@4acoffee

@pxrplewalnxt

@toomuchboredd

@banished--prince

@oddobsessionbutotay

@makik0

@joysflower

@hamdehlesmis

@mitski9328373

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@lovecalll

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@tomiokasgwife

[peachyprophets-blog]

More Fem!Odysseus x Poseidon please?👀

Now jump in the water! Poseidon x Female! Odysseus

A/N: Dear Anon, thank you for liking these ffs. I've been thinking about a sequel the whole time, and now it's here. Now enjoy the cold water on your face.

Part1

The waves were gently lapping against each other, Ody and her crew had been on the road for several years now. Poseidon had killed 558 of the 600 men in her crew, they were only able to escape because Ody used the rest of the Wind Bag to escape the angry god she had disposed of. When they came to Circe's island, they were led into the underworld and Ody had now learned her future from the prophet. They were now sailing along a route in the middle of the sea, Ody noticed parts of long-gone ships on the surface, she knew something was wrong. She and her crew put beeswax in their ears just in case there were sirens nearby. As Ody and her crew continued sailing, Ody noticed a figure. It looked like her husband was sitting on a rock. But as she got closer she recognized who it was. She and her men had just shaken off the god and Poseidon was already sitting in front of them, disguised as Pen, King of Ithaca. "Don't you miss me?" he said happily. Ody was horrified at the sight but let her charm work. "More than you know," she replied in a sweet voice. "Then come in the water and kiss me," Poseidon replied happily, suspecting that Ody had fallen for his trick. "But Pen I've told you this before, you know I'm scared of the water." This sentence made Poseidon pause. Ody and afraid of the water? That was surprising even for Poseidon. He blinked briefly before answering with a smile. "I'll make sure you are safe and sound." He raised his arms out of the water and picked up a baby dolphin. "Come play with me and our daughter, and lets watch our love leave the ground," Ody blinked briefly, perplexed, and was already disgusted by the behavior of the god who was pretending to be her husband. After a long exchange with the god, Ody had run out of nerves before Poseidon spoke again. "Well, you asked and now you now..." he was silent for a moment. "Now jump in the water!" Ody was on the verge of despair but still played the ignorant one. "Pen why, you know I am too shy and terrified." She played with her fingers and looked feignedly at Poseidon, who only assured her that he would take away her suffering. "Ooh, for you I would die, but can't you let me stay dry?" she asked again, but Poseidon assured her again that he would take away her suffering. "You should come on the ship, we'll jump at the same time," she offered him, but he promised him again. Suddenly the ship moved as a wave carried it away from the sea god and from a distance a female figure could be seen who seemed to be angry.

Thank gods….

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Selina Kyle’s younger sibling

Selina Kyle x sibling!reader

warnings:

a/n: anon ur a star thank u for bearing with me <3 it’s kind of short!!!!

prompt: anonymous: “Can I please ask for some headcannons for what it would be like being Selina Kyle’s (Patterson) younger sibling?”

selina was severely protective of you

gotham was rough, but sometimes she forgot you grew up in the same gotham

“i don’t want you walking out there alone at night” -selina

“you do it all the time, selina. i have a weapon, i’ll be fine” -you

you wanted to work with selina, but she absolutely wouldn’t let you come anywhere near the iceberg lounge

“selina, i need a good job! can’t you just put in a good word?” -you

“it’s not a ‘good job,’ y/n, you’d have a better chance working in a restaurant or a grocery store” -selina

she really was looking out for you there, that was no place for you. dealing drugs and meeting high profile men who loved power. you would have hated it

you two lived together, but she carried most of the weight of the bills

she really urged you to go to school and get out of there, but you wanted the same for her

“i’m fine where i am, kid. it’s you i’m worried about” -selina

“don’t i know it” -you

you missed your mom, maybe that’s why she stepped up the way she did

“remember when mom used to bring us to the club? falcone used to bring us stuff to draw with?” -you

“yeah, i don’t really want to think about it” -selina

“you say that, but you still have the drawings” -you

she annoyed you sometimes with her overbearing-ness, but you knew deep down she wanted what was best for you

she’d kind of stalk you when you went out with friends

and she’d swear up and down that “wasn’t her”

“i saw a pink wig” -you

“lots of people have pink wigs” -selina

she’d pick your outfits for the day

(if you like her style) she’d lend you her clothes

she never lets you leave the house without a “love you”

when you found out she was wearing a mask and sneaking out of the house, you were mortified

“you’re gonna get yourself killed!” -you

“you have no idea what i’m doing, i’m fine” -selina

“selina, i know exactly what you’re doing. i can’t live without you—i don’t know how to!” -you

her team up with the batman to avenge annika worried you greatly, but she didn’t listen to you

but you were close with her too and heartbroken to find out what happened

“just dont end up like her, selina” -you

the batman saved you one night in all of this, as you had gone off on your own to prove to selina you were capable of helping

“you need to stay away from my sister” -you

“i’m trying to help her” -batman

“help her by stopping her from getting involved in all of this” -you

“she seems like she’s been involved long before i met her” -batman

she told you about her attempt to kill falcone after he died, you were glad it wasn’t her who pulled the trigger for many reasons

but after that, she convinced you that it was time to leave gotham

“of course i’ll go with you, i’ve been dying to get out of here” -you

after a few obstacles (the flooding of gotham and assassination attempts on bella reál and batman) you were finally able to get the hell out of gotham

and say a goodbye to batman

“i guess i should thank you for being there for her” -you

“keep her out of trouble” -batman

“are you kidding? she finally thinks i can handle myself since i helped save your ass, we’re getting into trouble together” -you

“alright, y/n, let’s go before he decides to follow us” -selina

you guys settled down outside of gotham, adopted a few cats, had each others backs

and soon selina reached out to your sister sofia, a new opportunity awaits

taglist: @summersimmerus // @wild-rose-35 // @more-multifandom-of-madness // @girlmythlegend // @shepsgotthoughts // @diansaprince // @theseawakes // @locke-writes // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck //

[loveamongdragons]

The point about Iroh is so important.

That's pretty much it: over the course of the story Zuko developed more and more away from Ozai and closer to Iroh, and we can safely assume, I think, that the seeds that Iroh put into Zuko's character will grow further after the end of the series.

I get the point of op, however. Zuko does struggle with words sometimes, and he has been hurtful before when he didn't have his anger under control. Curiously though, this does not and has never applied to Katara. With her, he somehow was always able to express his thoughts and feelings pretty damn well, and offer her true understanding. Best case in point: him grasping that Katara's anger has to do with more than distrust, immediately offering to atone for the disappointment and hurt he'd caused in her - and then, most importantly, grasping that her anger has even deeper roots, that she is projecting, and managing to connect their argument to an old conversation where she'd shared her grief and trauma about losing her mother. That's complex shit, and he got it. He knew that he had to understand Katara's past to understand their relationship better as well. There are many adults that never show that level of insight, ever.

Zuko is very good with words in oddly specific situations. Basically, whenever he speaks from his heart. Have we forgotten his confrontation with his father?? That shit was communicated perfectly. And even the infamous "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" like screams of a person who has LOTS of beautiful words in him, even poetic ones, but keeps them bottled up most of the time.

I will say this: I do not see Zuko as a word-weaving, silver-tongued politician who always has some speech up his sleeve, neither do I think that he'd have an aphorism to share with everyone like Iroh - because imo, crucially, Zuko is only good with words when he fully believes in what he is saying (but then he is VERY good with them). He was terrible during his preparation for the speech for the Gaang because he was trying to be something he was not, he was downright hilarious during his silver sandwitch speech because he was trying to imitate Iroh instead of speaking from his own heart (but this in on itself circles back to my initial point - Iroh is absolutely crucial! Zuko wants to be more like him, and he will continue to develop in that direction, he just has to find his own way)

I have struggled with keeping Zuko realistic in my own fic, and have wondered whether I am making him too good of a talker - but I am also writing a Zuko at age 29, where he had plenty of time to settle into his personality, and to develop the seeds that had been sown in ATLA. He will never be just like Iroh. His wisdoms will always carry a hit of drama, or poetry, and will certainly be delivered with more force - maybe they will even be dry and angry in a no-bullshit way. But it does not mean he won't have it in him.

Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t know who the consent-pilled, emotionally available, and unerringly sensitive Zuko that’s been popping up in fanfic the last couple of years is. This dude is The Perfect Man (TM).

That’s great and all and I’m not trying to knock it, necessarily, but I see it going more like this:

Katara: Aang kissed me! Why would he kiss me? This isn’t the right time! I’m so mad at him! Etc.

Zuko, who never met a woman who couldn’t kill him on sight: Uh…is he okay?

[peterofthedrakes]

drew up some new thumbnails for artfight :3

[benevolenterrancy]

hi!! I think your art is *so cool* o(≧∇≦o)

do you think you could draw more moshang? either post canon or that au you did last time?? (baby mobei has my heart and all I own)

(˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) oh! how about return to childhood—moshang flavor?

don't question this king, shang qinghua, he knows what he's about