#but listen I just wanted to make the post
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𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎 🍎
My personal headcanons for Boyfriend!Caleb after what I've seen and read about his character so far. A/N: All my ride or die Caleb girlies if you disagree with anything on this list im not going to argue with you please don't take my word as law. I love y'all dont fight me 💋 feel free to add more in the replies ‼️MDNI‼️ + cw: quick mention of cnc & primal play
[SFW]
wants to be in your skin wrapped around your nervous system and nestled in the wrinkles of your brain ; if this man could glue you to him he would
remembers everything that happened to him and mc when they were lab rats as kids which is probably where his mental health started rapidly declining
Cuddles ! ; he’ll also cuddle you while youre asleep constantly ; doesn’t matter if you’re in his bed, the guest bed or your bed he’ll climb right in and snuggle up
leaves you bowls/plates of fresh fruit and a glass of water on your nightstand
doing backflips if you tell him he can wash your hair for you ; the longer it takes the better
monitors your social media and online presence “You shouldn't post that no one needs to see you naked” “Im wearing a bikini Caleb” “Basically naked”
big on taking photos he wants as many photos together as possible
movie nights and date nights are his shit he’ll alway be down for that ; if you two have a show you watch together he is genuinely hurt if you watch an episode without him
holds your hand even when you don’t want him to ; would quite literally use his evol to hold your hand in place
if you’re sick he's at your bedside 24/7 with medication and home cooked remedies ; will spoon feed you if you let him
uses his body as a wall in large crowds to keep people from bumping into you
will beat the brakes off of anyone who dares to even look at you sideways and when you ask him what he did he’ll lie and smile in your face
PINKY PROMISES ARE LAW
will take you everywhere with him and will also follow you anywhere ; he’d stand guard outside of the bathroom stall if he could
although he does have some bolts rattling around (because they’re not loose they’re fully free) he will pamper the hell out of you ; he’s running you a bath, rubbing your feet and cooking dinner so you have a relaxed night and warm meal
when you do help him cook he’ll stand behind you and cover your hand with his while he guides your hand with the knife
will hold anything you hand him while he’s on the phone
has an entire closet of all the gifts you’ve ever given him
the type to close the door and immediately lock it if you’re in a room alone with him
hates to argue with you ; he’ll do it, but he regrets it afterwards apologizes profusely later with your favorites foods, sweets, treats and things
has to get a kiss before he leaves ; he’s not leaving without it
the type to wrap your arms around his neck when he goes in for a kiss
loves caging you between his arms and his body at any given chance
has to be touching you in some kind of way
the type to tuck you in every night
loves to give you massages because he loves touching you
[NSFW]
needs you to use your words “tell me how you want it” “don’t cover your mouth” “tell me you missed me” “how much?” “right there or right here? Tell me” “open your mouth” “how much do you love me?” “are you all mine? say it”
records your moans so he can listen to them later
pretty panty lover ; buys you lots of them ; loves to have you model them and you’re getting dicked down if you’re walking around the house in them
takes you anyway he can ; favorite position? ALL OF EM mans brain turns to mush just having his hand on you ; a dom that will punish you, but gives stellar aftercare
loves to tease you by getting you wet and just rubbing his tip over the fabric ; slides the panties to the side instead of taking them off because he loves to see them on you
a vocal moaner and a yapper when he nuts ; nuts inside every time makes him feel like he’s claiming you
Intentionally fails no nut November and says “we’ll try again tomorrow” turns you every way but loose for the entire month
massages your thighs and coochie so he can watch his cum drip out of you
a slurper and moaner when he eats it ; eats the pussy and the ass
puts the colonel hat on you
100% into cnc & somnophilia I will not argue with anyone about this ; not a fan of dacryphilia he hates to see you cry
you have to have a safe word because he gets pussydrunk extremely easily
panty stealer ; keeps a pair in his pocket when he goes to work ; clean or dirty doesn’t matter to him
into primal play would chase you through the woods in the Rina Kent - God of War mask and rearrange your guts right there with pleasure
would get jealous of your vibrator/dildo
#love and deepspace#lnds caleb#love and deepspace caleb#lads caleb#caleb#l&ds caleb#caleb love and deepspace#lads headcanons#nikaaaaimagine
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☽。⋆ Learning to fly, starting to crawl
Over one hundred years ago, you lost your wings but the wound still hurts like it was only yesterday. When your brothers mate wants to learn to fly, he doesn’t hesitate in teaching her, right in front of you. And nobody can see the scars except the one you love…
[OMG I'M ALIVE!!!! I've had this sitting in my drafts for months but have only just got around to posting. Basically, I have too many hobbies but i'm in a writing mood again., very fitting to start with my boy AZRIEL, whom i love very much. I hope you enjoy. This is linked to my other Azriel fic but of course can be read alone. Not proof-read and yes, she lost her wings. It's becoming almost a thing but it makes for some good ass angst. ENJOY!!!!]
☽。⋆
The inner circle all sat around the table, eating and chatting merrily. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, as was tradition, while his mate- Feyre- sat next to him, their hands entwined. They smiled at each other, as so in love they were. Cassian and Mor were joking around along with Amren and Elian listened politely. Every now and then, she glanced the shadow singers way to invite him into the conversation but there was no such luck.
Azriel only stared ahead of him, glaring at the empty space where you usually sat. He wasn’t at all surprised you hadn’t turned up, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be angry about it.
For a few weeks now he’d noticed the shift in you. You snapped easily and often rolled your eyes at anything your brother- the high lord- had to say. He’d heard you pace your rooms at night and his shadows (that favoured you above all) had reported that many nights you went to Rita’s.
But your empty seat irked him. And it irked him that Rhys seemed to not care in the slightest.
Az was the first to be aware of your presence, the echo of the door opening alerting them all and your scent hit him in the face. He inhaled it- your lavender, your sweetness, tinted by the alcohol lingering.
Rhysand huffed and everyone seemed to notice the shift. ‘I apologize about this, Feyre darling.’
Just then, you and Nesta stumbled into the room, arms linked and laughing your heads off about something or other.
Azriel drank you in. Your cheeks were flushed, your dress creased as you struggled to stay up right. Gods, what had you done?
You pouted dramatically, throwing a hand on your hip. ‘Uh oh, Rhysands got his grumpy face on.’
‘Isn’t that his usual?’ Said Nesta, causing the two of you to laugh again.
Everyone watched the two of you.
‘Where have you been?’ Az asked, wanting to rush to you and support you, but Rhys seemed one breath away from snapping.
‘We’re trying to have a pleasant meal, don’t ruin it,’ he grumbled.
‘Yes sir!’ You saluted.
Rhys growled and Feyre took his hand, squeezing it tightly.
‘Something tells me we’re not wanted, y/n,’ Nesta said to her.
‘Alas, we do not want to be here,’ you said, stumbling your way past the table. Before you went, you gave Feyre a squeeze on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper to her. ‘Feyre darling.’
‘Enough!’ Rhys shot up, hands on the table.
You barley spared him a glance as you and Nesta went about your way. You tripped on a plant pot, stumbling and apologizing to the object.
Azriel got out his seat, ready to follow you to wherever. No matter if you wanted him or not.
‘Sit down, Azriel,’ said Rhysand, taking his seat again. He picked up his fork and smiled at his mate like nothing had happened. All the while, your scent got further away from him.
He looked between where you’d disappeared and his high lord. He settled down and promised he’d find out what had made you act so.
☽。⋆
You woke with unbearable pain in your head the next day. And your back. Your head was granted with the amount you and Nesta had drank, seeking to out-do one another so much so you drank out most of Rita’s.
But your back, the pain was new. Almost as if it knew why you were so angry, so bitter and it sort to make it worse.
Your curtains were drawn but the wind blew them back, letting you glimpse the outside world you dreaded to be a part of.
Shadows curled up your bed, brushing your hair back affectionately. They seemed to always be around you, as if they knew the bond that heaved in your chest even if their master didn’t.
You offered them a poor smile. ‘I’m fine.’ But they caressed you and smelt your lie.
From beyond the curtains, you caught a glimpse of figures in the sky. You’d always loved your room for the view it granted, of the sun, the moon, the stars. But after losing your wings, the view turned cold and the sky never seemed as bright.
It only got worse.
Though you knew the pain it would bring you to see, you wrapped a blanket around you and treaded over to the window.
Feyre was trying out her new wings, the black gifts she’d been given. Once mortal, she now had everything you wanted. The power, the wings. Your freedom was now hers.
And you hated it.
Azriel was looking close to her, encouraging her as she went. Though they were small figures to you, you could see his smile, how he held his hands out to her should she lose confidence.
How many times had you flown side by side, acting like the clouds abided you. The times you’d raced or dropped just to have Azriel catch you.
Never again.
The bitterness invaded your mouth again, blocking out all other logical senses.
Your door burst open- the shadows rushing to your side and curling around your shoulders. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was, the anger radiating from him was enough.
‘How dare you turn up in the state you did last night,’ snapped Rhys. You didn’t turn to face him, shielding yourself from his fury. ‘You had no right to ruin a lovely evening. We are trying to make Feyre and her sisters feel welcomed, its a shame my own sister can’t seem to do that for me.’
The words twisted in your gut. For him… had you not done everything for him? Lost your wings because you wouldn’t give in? Lost fifty years of your life to be with him?
‘Get over whatever it is going on and only return to us when you want to act like a decent human being.’ Rhysand snapped before leaving again, slamming the door- causing her to flinch.
The shadows ran down your hair, your cheeks, your sides. Giving you any ghostly comfort they could. ‘I’m fine,’ you told them again, retreating further into your room.
The shadows followed you, but only half of them. The other half had returned to their master, clouding him and whispering in his ear.
Her wings. She misses her wings.
She hadn’t had to say it out loud, they knew her pain.
Azriel paused in the sky, alerting Feyre. She’d seen the shadows surround him in flourishes. She couldn’t understand they were reporting in on you, that Az needed you to have something there when he could not be.
‘What is it?’ She asked, beating her wings.
He stared at her then at the wings. He was filled with the longing to be with you, in the sky, playing. Your wings were beautiful, just because they were you. A beautiful part of you.
‘I need to speak with the high lord.’
☽。⋆
‘Ask someone else to train Feyre to fly,’ said Azriel.
He’d insisted he needed to see the high lord on urgent matters that could not wait. He’d expected it to be of the war, but Azriel opened with the line.
Rhysand was sat behind his desk, looking up to Azriel with some amusement. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Ask Cassian,’ he said, he didn’t need to repeat himself.
‘Feyre wanted you.’
‘I can’t do it anymore,’ he said, stating it all simply.
Rhysand waited, wondering if he’d be graced with an explanation, but it never came. ‘Might I ask why.’
‘Your sister.’
Rhys’s amusement turned to a deep scowl. ‘My sister has asked you to stop flying with Feyre?’
‘No. She hasn’t asked, she never would. But I can’t teach Feyre to fly anymore.’
‘I’m sorry, I’m confused- what does any of this have to do with y/n?’ He asked.
Azriels shadows wound tight around him, coating him like a second skin. He wanted to yell, and he never let his emotions get the better of him. Instead, he curled his hand into a fist and clenched his jaw. ‘Do you really not think that this is hurting her?’
‘After her behaviour the past couple days I think it’s her who’s doing the hurting,’ he said, picking a bit of invisible lint from his shoulder.
‘She lost her wings,’ said Azriel with barely contained annoyance. ‘She lost them. They were cut from her back and she was left to bleed out.’
‘I do remember that Azriel,’ said Rhys, closing his eyes at the words. ‘I was there when we found her.’
‘So do you not think that teaching your mate to fly doesn’t effect her?’
Rhysand looked at him. His eyes changed, the hue turning darker. No, he hadn’t thought that. You’d never let on to feeling anything for your wings or lack of them. But then again, even if you had, would you ever have gone to your brother.
Azriel took a measured step forward. ‘Do you not think it hurts her that you teach your mate to fly, the same mate that gasped in horror when she saw the scars on your sisters back? That you have us fly in front of the house where she can see? Did you even know that when she bathes y/n covers all the mirrors so she doesn’t have to get a glance at the scars.’
The high lord held up a hand. ‘I understand.’
‘No, you don’t. You could never know what it’s like, neither could I, or Cassian. She had a part of her ripped off and she has to live without it every day. But you’ve gifted Feyre them as if it’s nothing.’
‘Because my mate has the powers,’ argued Rhys. ‘If I could give y/n wings I would- in a heartbeat, I would.’
Azriel nodded. He knew that, he knew the relationship between you and Rhys was fractured at best, but he also knew that if anything or anyone hurt you, Az would kill them. ‘I don’t want to reach Feyre to fly because it hurts y/n.’
Rhys leaned back in his chair, studying him. ‘And you care about her?’
‘More than I can express.’ He would give her the wings from his back if he could. ‘And if something hurts her… it hurts me.’
Rhysand nodded. ‘I’ll take her flying from now on. We’ll do it in the mountains, to spare y/n from seeing it.’
Azriel bowed his head. ‘Thank you.’
Rhys nodded but averted his gaze. ‘Look after her, Azriel.’
‘I always have.’
☽。⋆
Nesta had gone to Rita's, expecting you later but you'd already snuck down to the Wine cellar and picked out the finest to drown your sorrows alone in. You'd past Cassian on the way, the male worried about your shifting gaze and the way you held yourself but you brushed him off and carried on your way.
You hesitated outside your door, where shadows lurked. Yes, they liked you and yes they were often with you, but never guarding your door.
Then, you smelt it. Not wine but sweet cedar and moss. Az.
You didn't want this. Didn't want him to see you like this, in pain in your mind and back, in longing for the wind through your hair. You knew he'd noticed your behaviour, he was the spy master, you'd only hoped... only hoped he didn't care as much as he did.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and braced yourself for shouting.
Azriel stood there, looking regal and beautiful. His back was too the balcony, the door open and wind rusting his wings and sheets. His hands were behind his back and his gaze was... soft? It wasn't dark with anger or clouded in annoyance.
It was just Az.
'Azriel,' you do your best to smile, clearing your throat. 'What are you doing? I thought you had flying with Feyre?' you were trying but you were also just you and you missed your wings.
'I'm teaching her anymore,' he said.
You chuckle. 'Is she that bad a student?'
'I'm sorry.'
You look up to him, taking out the cork of the wine. Rose filled your senses. 'For what?'
'That she flys when you don't,' he mentioned it simply, as if you'd already told him what was hurting you and he'd accepted it.
You hadn't said it. You wouldn't. You hated yourself enough for being weak, you didn't need him, perfect Azriel, caring Azriel, to see how horrid your jealousy had made you. 'I don't know what you mean.'
'y/n,' he steps close to you, taking the bottle from you. He drops it at his side but no smash is delivered. The shadows swallow it up. 'Why won't you talk, instead of drowning yourself in pain?'
'I'm not drowning myself in anything,' you deny, moving away from him to close the balcony door. The air drifting in and moving everything but you only mocked.
'You can't fly,' he said.
Your eyes squeezed shut in pain. 'Yes, I know, you don't have to remind me.'
His boots sounded close behind her and he took her shoulders. He didn't force her to turn around, he only held her gently and soothed his thumbs over the knots in her back. 'You can't fly and words don't exist to tell you how sorry I am. If I could i'd give you the own wings off me back-'
'Don't say that.' The only thing worse than your pain, was Azriel going through it all.
'I would and I mean it just to see you smile again, if only for a second. I'd be glad to give them up,' he whispered. Your shoulders slumped under his grasp and he sighed in relief, it was better than tensing up again. 'I miss you smiling. I miss you laughing. I miss you smiling at me. I'm sorry if teaching Feyre to fly has hurt you.'
'It wasn't you, Az,' you turn in his hold, never letting him feel like it was his fault. In doing that, you admitted to being bothered. 'I can't be who I was, because I don't know how. And I don't want to try to only fail.'
He listened, hands trailing down your arms to rub.
You gulp. 'And it's not just losing the wings, it's everything I lost with it. Freedom. I can't join you or Cas, or anyone when you take to the skies. How am I going to cope in battle? I can't run as fast as I can fly, I can't fight as well. I can't hit Cassian over the head when he's being an idiot, I can't-I can't wrap them around you when we hold each other, and it's painful to think of everything I've lost when I've gained nothing.'
He listened, tears watering his gaze. You had not lost any of that, not to him.
'And Feyre,' you pulled away, crossing your arms around each other and looking out the window. 'I don't hate her, I wish I could but I can't. But she's been Fae for five seconds and she has everything I've ever wanted. Wings. My brother loves her. She's happy. I hate it and I hate myself.'
Your confession weighed your gut but your chest rose in a deep breath. You couldn't see Azriel behind you in the reflection of the windows and you couldn't hear him.
He'd gone. Of course he'd left, you'd whined about what you'd lost when you were at least alive. You'd complained about the High Lady- treason in Rhysand's book.
No, you were all alone.
But you weren't.
Az crept behind you and slowly- so you could pull away- wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into his chest and matched his breaths with yours. 'I won't insult you by saying I get it, because I could never. But that time, when I found you after you'd lost your wings, I thought i'd lost you and that-that is how I imagine your feelings. Because I stopped breathing and I didn't think happiness would ever be in the world again. And your blood, you bleeding out has been in my nightmares since. If my hands were to be stained with it, let them, because it was the last thing i'd ever have of you.'
You had no idea. He'd felt terrible yes and been there the weeks and months it took to heal but you'd been so full of pain and guilt you hadn't thought of how he fared. Your greatest friend... your lustful secret.
Your hands came up to hold his arms.
'You do not have to be who you were before,' he whispered, head resting on your shoulder. 'Become better. Become something more. As for training, you're the strongest woman I know and still the only person I'd trust with my life.'
A tear escaped you.
He nudged your chin with his nose. 'And you can still hit Cass as much as you like.'
You laugh through tears, holding onto Az like he was the last thing anchoring you to yourself.
His wings slowly inched over you. 'And I will hold you all day, every day till I die, and i'll keep you safe.' His wings closed around the two of you as yours used to do.
Neither of you realised how much you'd missed it, needed it, craved it until it happened.
You'd lost your wings, but you had never and would never lose him.
#a court of wings and ruin#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#acotar#rhys acotar#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x you#azriel x reader#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar x y/n#a court of frost and starlight#booktok#books and reading#azriel acotar#azriel acosf
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Reader sleeping on the couch after an argument w/Dorm leaders? How they would react w/happy endings?
this got super long so i decided to change up the post layout so longer stuff would look nicer. But im also posting from a new device so if this goes up and theres any formatting fumbles then uhm. you didnt see anything
𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts
Despite how hotheaded and stubborn he is, it’s actually really rare for you two to really argue. He values your opinions on everything, and he’d hate for you to feel like he doesn’t hear you or care about your feelings. The last thing he wants is to make you feel like doesn’t care.
That, however, is something he’s still learning. It’s not very easy to let go of the habits he developed growing up— Especially if he thinks what he’s doing is best for you. He doesn’t know how to convince people, so he ends up coming off forceful and inconsiderate. It might even happen without him noticing he messed up, if you’re not extra straightforward about it.
So he knew you weren’t happy with him, but really didn’t think it was that bad, seeing you asleep on the couch is the last thing he was expecting. Even more if it’s the first time it happens, it makes him freeze go into panic mode.
You’re woken up to a really shaken looking Riddle, asking you what you’re doing on the couch at this time in very genuine confusion. He might not even have considered it was because of the argument, too focused on trying to figure out what’s up with you. And it’s hard to stay upset at him when he so readily listens to whatever you have to say, apologizing profusely and making a promise to not do it again that he’ll always keep. His intention from the start was to do what’s best for you, after all— So if he turns out to be wrong, the first thing he wants to do is to correct it.
𐙚 Leona Kingscholar
Arguing with Leona is… definitely a situation. It might have you wondering if it even counts as an argument at all. Sometimes he just doesn’t seem to even react to what you have to say, sometimes he straight up states he can’t be bothered to argue. He’s not as stubborn towards people he really likes, but he’s still very proud.
He can actually tell that he messed up very quickly, pretty much in the middle of whatever interaction went wrong, but can’t bring himself to actually back down and admit it. He doesn’t even bother trying to convince himself that he’s right or anything, he’s just that allergic to saying the word “sorry”.
When he walks past you, his first thought is that he should just “let you sulk”. It’s probably not the first time it happens to him in a relationship— And the same routine plays out every time. He wants to walk away, but he can’t. He eventually does, then he comes back and stares for minutes. Regret starts to really sink in then.
You have a blanket draped over you the day after, and Leona just so happens to be around to ask, much more tentatively than usual, if you’re coming with him to get breakfast. It’s his version of an apology, kind of. He’ll actually say it out loud if the subject of the argument was more serious, but that’s rare. He’s not very good at this and the both of you are aware of that, but he still cares, and he’ll get there eventually. Maybe.
𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto
Surprisingly, or perhaps not, he might actually have the lowest argument rate out of all dorm leaders? He owes a lot of it to just being good with words, he pretty much always manages to bring up his disagreements in a really non-confrontational way, they’ll barely even register as disagreements at all. If he can’t find a way to seamlessly compromise, he often just keeps his thoughts to himself.
...Mostly because he gets too anxious at the possibility of you rejecting him. Even if it’s something small, it’ll stay inside his head and refuse to leave, getting dwelled on when life starts to get particularly stressful. If you two argue, the likelihood is that he actually started it, because some other minor issue came up and the pile he was mentally stacking ended up falling apart.
Things can get really messy in the moment. Everything sounds offensive to him when he’s freaking out, while at the same time he’s painfully aware that he’s being overly emotional and causing problems that didn’t exist before. He stops his rant suddenly when self control manages to return to him, but at that point things were already said, and you’re walking separate ways after he awkwardly suggests you two just take a moment to cool off.
He might not even see you on the couch, being too ashamed to leave his office, but Jade will let him know either way. Azul won’t disrupt your sleep, and he’ll even try to give you enough time in the morning to get through your usual routine, but as soon as it’s possible he’s looking for you to privately apologize. He takes care to clear up any misunderstandings before voicing any of his worries, even though it’s visible how nervous he is. It comforts him just to see you looking at him with fondness again, seriously relieved that he won’t be losing you over the situation.
𐙚 Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim is another one who doesn’t really argue, but that’s not to say he doesn’t voice his disagreements, because he does, and he does it very often. It happens as soon as the thought pops up in his mind, spoken all lightheartedly. Regardless of what the subject being talked about is.
…Which can very easily become a problem. He does take all your boundaries very seriously, but you need to be very straightforward about them. So if it happens that you two get into a topic he doesn’t know is touchy for you, he might say something that comes off insensitive. And yes, he will ask you as soon as he sees the change in your expression, but the lack of tact doesn’t mix well with you already being upset, and you end up just walking away.
Only then he stops talking, freezing up completely. He can tell, that you probably want some space now, and he’ll honor that— but the whole thing doesn’t leave his mind for hours. He has no clue of when he should go look for you to try to talk and apologize, no clue of how he should even word it all when he doesn’t know what he did wrong. His heart shatters when he sees you sleeping on the couch.
He probably asked Jamil for advice, then heard that he should really give you your space, but he just can’t take it. You get shaken awake and he’s tearing up while he apologizes, saying he really didn’t mean to make you upset, that he’ll do his best to be more careful if you tell him just what went wrong, but also that you don’t need to talk right now if you don’t want— He’s a little clumsy, and very emotional, but you know he means well, and that he loves you very much, which he’ll be sure remind you of over and over again.
𐙚 Vil Schoenheit
It’s no secret that he can really nag people, but Vil really doesn’t like to actually argue— He’ll say it every time a disagreement or misunderstanding starts to get tense. Partially a self-reminder, he’s aware that he doesn’t have nearly as much patience as he would like to. It can take a decent amount of effort to keep himself in check.
You two do successfully compromise very often, but sometimes even his suggestions can come off very harsh. It’s no secret to anyone who knows him. His peacemaking attempts are still pretty blunt, and his opinions are never held back. It can easily get upsetting, going as far as feeling like he’s judging you even though he’s not.
Vil actually takes a moment to tell that he might have said the wrong thing. He’s not so proud he’ll refuse to admit his own mistakes, but he’s just… used to upsetting people. You can outright leave mid conversation and it still won’t be his gut reaction, he always believes whatever he’s saying and only wants the best for you. It can take a good few moments until he realizes you’re not just “sulking” the way his underclassmen at the dorm do when he scolds them. Finding you asleep on the couch can honestly shock him.
He won’t wake you up right away— It’s still important for you to get your rest, and he wants to really think about what happened before he says anything— but there’s no way he’ll let you spend the night there. His voice is really soft when he calls your name, waiting for you to gather yourself before he tells you he’s sorry. Gently reassuring you in whatever you need while he explains himself, he’ll make sure everything is okay before he touches you at all, wrapping you up into a hug when everything is finally settled.
𐙚 Idia Shroud
He’s freaking out, full stop. He didn’t even think he’d ever get far enough with someone to be in this position. Since when does he even have the audacity to argue with a partner he never even believed he’d get? Whatever he did, he wholeheartedly believes he screwed up big time.
...And even though it’s his anxiety talking first, he might actually be right. He’s usually really passive, doesn’t even voice disagreements beyond maybe just whining about not wanting to go somewhere with a lot of people. And even then, he might be willing to try, just for you — So what went wrong? Probably a messy misunderstanding, where he said a lot of things he doesn’t mean…
He’s honestly just expecting it to be over. Believing that you’re going to block all his socials and never speak to him again. The second you walk away, the only thing in his mind is the absolute worst, so when he sees you on the couch he’s… relieved? But just for a second. It means there’s still hope for him! You would have just disappared if you wanted nothing to do with him, right? But he also recognizes the trope, he knows he’s going to need to work to be forgiven—
Idia is just standing there when you wake up. Pacing around the living room and losing his mind. He gets startled when he sees you’re awake, like he’s terrified of what will come next. At least he’s had (more than) enough time to think about what happened… the apology you get is very much sincere, even if it gets rambly at certain parts, ending with the two of you comforting each other.
𐙚 Malleus Draconia
For obvious reasons, things can get tricky with Malleus. Whenever you feel like you’re really starting to understand him, something strange will happen again, it’s a real cycle. All the factors in his upbringing connect with each other to build a very specific kind of character. Even if it looks like you two are really similar, there’s going to be a minimum of a handful of details that just change everything.
He’s always careful with his words, with basically no exception, but sometimes he just doesn’t know what the “right” thing to say would be, or he doesn’t know what a certain cue could mean in the moment, or whatever he knows is something that doesn’t apply outside of specific context of the royal family he’s a part of— The possibilities are endless, but a lot of the time, it’s more likely that things will just chalk up to the fact you don’t understand each other’s perspectives.
He might notice something is off right away, he might think nothing wrong happened at all, it can be wildly different depending on the topic at hand. He’ll ask what’s wrong if he does notice, but even if you do try to explain to him why you’re hurt, it may not make sense inside his head right away. And even though he’s genuine and fast to apologize, it can feel cold when he clearly can’t tell what’s actually wrong.
When he walks by the couch you’re asleep on, it doesn’t even register as being related to the argument right away. He shakes you awake to tell you it’s not a good idea to sleep there because it gets really cold later in the night. Right now, he’s had enough time to process and understand the situation, quickly giving you a new, truly heartfelt apology. Even if in the whole thing, in retrospect, was a pretty minor issue — And if it isn’t, or you’re just not ready to forgive him yet for whatever reason, he doesn’t push it. The only thing he’ll insist on is having you sleep somewhere more comfortable, really.
if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ���ᵎ ✦
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit#idia shroud#malleus draconia#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim all asim x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#twst imagines#twst headcanons#lis writing
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You do or don't "belong", that is the ism's power, and the power of it over your peers. To the deceived, the "ism" becomes the more important thing, what's true or false is irrelevant. It's the religion of the decieved.
You've definitely heard this from "the right" (🤢) before, but screeching boomer shemales just blame "craziness" before they return to their slop. It's not craziness, we are afflicted by spells. Magic words. The madness inflicted upon the innocent is word-based and "ism" words are the most lethal of them all. They destroy friendships. They dominate lives. They alter behaviors and for the most part they alter those behaviors into the death of a bloodline. These words were invented by the Skeksis and they've always been raw tyranny, cruelty, and evil, just like everything that pours from them.
They have no true meaning either. If they want they can use comments sections and the algorithm to manipulate what the "ism' means. Whenever they want. They do it all the time.
"What does it mean to be an "____ist"?"
They ask all the fucking time. Every fucking day.
Constantly sparking debates in the form of posts, and then fixing the debate by promoting their preferred opinions as the top comments. Changing which thoughts and languages and actions and ideas and motives and people BELONG to the conquering word. To the ism.
It's spellcraft.
"Now black people can't be racist, or they can, or whatever. Now you can't like _____ or you're not a true anarchist. You cannot be a Christian communist, you are by definition (today) a Christofascist. If you listen to ______ you can't be a real _____ist. If you want Ukraine to win you're a Hitlerist, if you want Russia to win you're a monarchist or something. If you want Israel to win you're a zionist racist, if you want palestine to win you're an anti-semitism (there's an ism for this one but no ist). If you want white Christian children to survive, you aren't with us, you are against us. You are not our "ism" you are not conquered by the "ism" like we are. You are not our ist, you're a different ist, and that makes you our prey." Stuff like that. All of social media is just this and cat pictures.
Ten million other examples than just these, but the absurdity of it hopefully wakes you up to the fact that "ism" is not a thing. Communism and Fascisms and Catholicism and Racism, and Idealism and whatever, none of it is real. Perhaps it "describes a set of behaviors" but I just invented that definition myself and I'm guessing it can change in an instant, after all you can't be black and racist, but that can be changed in an instant with the right inputs in the algorithm.
There is no definition of any ism, because it's not a solid thing. You cannot point to a racism. It's a spell. It's a manipulation. It does not exist. What is actually, literally happening before the eyes of God. The absolute truth, is rendered irrelevant to you, as long as you believe in any ism. It's a word that forces you to dance for them.
But there are no isms. They aren't even ideas, actually. The Skeksis invented isms to torture and laugh at us. Conscience decides for the flesh what is good and bad, and above that God, and nothing more. There is only what is true and what is not. And from the Skeksis come only lies.
The fact that this is 80 fucking years ago but still just as relevant is terrifying.
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i NEED a angst fic (with a happy ending ofc) based on tolerate it by taylor swift please 🙏 big chance it’s been done before though and im just the most unoriginal bitch ever
tolerate it ❀ s. reid x reader
in which spencer reid gets out of prison, and you baselessly feel like your relationship is growing increasingly one sided. pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: post prison reid. neglectful bf spencer reid. happy (open) ending. communication yippee. themes of self doubt in reader. mentions of spencer not eating. word count: 2k a/n: writers block isn't real you just need to watch criminal minds season 12 episode 13 'spencer' and then listen to tolerate it on repeat for three hours straight. iiii know human beings don't talk in long monologued speeches but for the sake of my sanity let us pretend i am shakespeare and spencer reid is my leontes. plzzzz tell me if u liked this or if u didn't yay thank u ily
i sit and watch you. i notice everything you do, or don't do. (lines 3–4)
A fork scrapes against ceramic. It emits a scratching sound that hurts your ears, and you're cringing from your curled up position on the couch as you hear it. Silverware shines beneath the bright, warm glow of his kitchen light, his food barely dented as he pushes it around his plate.
He's been playing with it since he sat down to eat it.
You're not too sure what's going through his head as he takes barely there bites of a meal you cooked. You don't think you want to know. But it takes him all of twenty three minutes to come to the same conclusion he made last night, and every other night before that. That he isn't going to eat any more of the food, and just like his fork, his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands.
He wraps the plate in aluminium foil, the crinkling of metal being your only indicator that he has plans to eat it later. At least, that's what you hope.
When he disappears into the bedroom, you follow him. Like a lovesick puppy, you're trailing after him, and your chest feels hollow with how embarrassing it all is.
He doesn't know you're watching him, though.
At least, not to the extent you are. He's field trained enough to know that you're keeping an eye on him, but your silence is only indicative of you giving him the space he so politely asked for three days ago. He's not in his right mind to assume you're silent for any other reason, and you've battled to a loss with the thoughts of letting him into your disaster of a brain.
He doesn't need to know that.
The ensuite door shuts behind him, and you hear the water turn on minutes later. You take the cue to curl up on your side of the bed, your fingers toying with the paper edges of a book you now had in your lap. The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, for you were rediscovering your love for children's novels amongst this trying time between you and Spencer.
"Hey, did you buy me more shampoo?"
Your head lifts at the voice, the snowy Narnia world you had built in your brain shattering in an instant, as you're met with the dull colours of Spencer Reid's bedroom, and a showered and dressed Spencer Reid standing only a few feet away. His bedroom hadn't always been dull. Really, nothing had actually changed artistically within it to make it dull. But there's something about no longer laughing in a room once filled with so much love that mutes its vibrance.
"Yeah," you say, dog-earing the page you were on and slipping it onto the nightstand. "I saw you were running low."
His lips part as he exhales, and you hate that you can tell he's pushing away something snippy. It wasn't that he was actively trying to start fights with you, but his temper has grown short, and he has more anger in his heart than before.
"You didn't get the right one, that's all."
And though it isn't said rudely, your chest opens up like a black hole regardless, and a thick ball of emotion lodges in your throat.
"I'm sorry," you force past your lips, despising the hollow sound of your sad voice, and the fact that he notices it. His eyebrows frown towards each other at the sound of you, and he takes a step towards the bed.
It's pathetic, right? To be this upset over him letting you know the thing you bought him wasn't correct. In that almost fake sounding soft, kind voice he has when he is trying to keep his unnecessary frustration at bay.
But it wasn't like this was the first time you'd done something for him in recent, and been told you did it wrong, instead of simply being thanked. Acts of service he was finding problems within no matter what they were, each new critique chipping away at the scales of your self confidence. You don't even think he's meaning to do it.
Every time this happens, memories of the other times flash violently in your head, reminding you that he could not find the beauty of being cared for by you the way he had before this. This, this thing you were barely even able to string the letters of together, because it seemed so foreign and faraway to you. Spencer Reid in prison is not a sentence that makes sense in this — or any other — timeline. You don't think it ever will. And yet.
You'd cooked him meals every single day since he got out. Meals he'd barely ever touch, wrap in foil, then put in the fridge for his work lunch the next day. You don't know if he's even eating them at work, or if he's just taking them there to throw them out. You've been too scared to reach out to any of his team members to ask. Knowledge is power, but knowledge makes his negligence all too real.
There's a fear in calling it negligence. It isn't fair of you to expect the same man before and after prison, and you know he's dealing with more than you can fathom. You were prepared for distance.
Just not this much.
The submerged sound of your name tugs you from your thoughts, and suddenly Spencer is closer than he was before, and he's repeating your name over and over in calling. Once you rapidly blink and shake your head, he determines you've returned to Earth, and he's falling silent again. There's concern knitting his eyebrows together, and he's got his hands hovering in the air, as if he's reaching for you, but second guessing himself at the same time.
"Whats going on in your brain?" he asks you after a few beats of the two of you just staring at each other.
Like a dam breaking, his question triggers an onslaught of emotions, and every fear and insecurity you've had inside you spills out.
"I feel like you suddenly hate me," your eyes rapidly search the duvet in front of you for your words. "Or—or I annoy you with my presence? Or my care? I mean, I try to do things for you and you barely even spare them a second glance, or thought. You barely talk to me anymore outside of updating me on your schedule. We sleep with miles of distance between us," you gesture to the bed beside you. "I cook you meals you don't eat, I wash your clothes you don't fold. Both of which are things that I'm fine with, because I can't imagine how skewed your appetite is, and I—I know laundry is a trigger now. But there is not even a slight hint of you—you being thankful. You know, appreciative. I feel like I'm following you around like a servant, and I'm doing things with no gratitude in return. I'm doing things I shouldn't have to, because I'm your girlfriend. Not your maid. But they are things that I want to do, because I care for you, and I love you," you pause, a self deprecating smile appearing on your face. "And—and you haven't even told me you love me since the day we got you home. Do you even love me, still? No, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. I mean, I do. I don't know. God, Spencer, can you say something?"
He doesn't. For a long while, he stares at you, and you train your eyes on the pattern on the bedding you're currently sitting under. His gaze is pulverising, and every second that passes is another limb turning to dust beneath it. His silence should be enough of an answer for you. Yet, you hold onto groundless hope still.
It feels like eternity has passed you by, by the time you hear his voice again.
"I don't mean to make you think I don't love you," he says. "I do love you. Which feels meaningless to confess to you now, knowing how you feel, and I wish my expansive knowledge of words could come up with a confession that does justice to how you feel, but also makes you feel better. I can only hope you take it at face value, and don't assume I'm saying it because it's what you want me to say."
He finds a seat on the bed in front of you, fingers fidgeting with each other as he fixates on the wooden flooring in front of him.
"I am grateful for everything you've done for me recently. I'm sorry I haven't expressed that. I'm having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other, let alone stringing together sensical thoughts. I wish I could tell you what my mind sounds like without feeling guilty about it. It isn't nice, and every thought I have is far from positive," he lifts his eyes to you, and you watch in real time as they soften, for the first time since he came home. "I will tell you that there's you. Among every awful thought and feeling I have, there is you. I think I... I think I've been coming across as ungrateful because you are a breath of relief after every bad thought and feeling. Am I making sense?" you nod your head, and he sighs in, namely, relief. "I take a step back from processing my emotions and figuring out how I'm going to talk about them with that bureau therapist when I think about you, because you are the one good thing I have to hold on to. So I just bask in the thought of you, or the sight of you, and focus on nothing else."
You aren't sure when you began to cry, and you only realise it when you have to sniffle before speaking. "You can focus on so many things at once, though."
"Not anymore," he admits, looking back down. "I don't know what's happened. I've gone from having a brain that works inhumanly — which is objectively an incorrect statement, but I digress — to one that cannot multitask on two separate things at once."
"Oh," you whisper. "I see."
"I'm so sorry I've made you feel as though your efforts go unnoticed, honey," he murmurs. "They don't. This has just been really difficult."
"I know," you say, wiping your tear stained face with the back of your hand.
There's a part of you that wants this to be the end of it. The end of self doubt, and distance, and instead the beginning of your relationship rebuilding itself alongside Spencer.
There's a larger, more logical part of you, that knows you cannot just sweep every self conscious doubt under the rug and move on.
"I just want some time," you tell him, and his shoulders tense as you speak. "Not to—not to break up. Or even for us to have a break. I don't want that. I've just felt very... unloved. Like you're merely tolerating my presence in your life. And now, I know you aren't. But I have to find my confidence in myself in this relationship again before I can move on."
"Okay," his voice is strained as he speaks, and you know he's not exactly content with your request for space.
You try not to focus on that, in order to stand firm in your decision.
That is where the conversation ends. And just like every other night, he climbs into bed and leaves a considerable amount of distance between your two bodies. You choose not to dwell on it, because this is now him giving you the space you so politely requested. You were catastrophising, and you'd be damned if you let such a thing control your life any longer.
It maybe wasn't all in your head, but you still had to take the self doubt shaped dagger from your stomach out.
now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. (line 30)
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid x reader hurt/comfort#spencer reid hurt/comfort
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you. Oh my god, you. (Positive)
listen. Before I had internet access, all I had was 1 hour of allotted browser time, bing image search, and a single dantdm play through of a hat in time that never got finished. I googled fanart and got pretty much nothing, I googled fancomics and got pretty much nothing, but you know what I did end up finding?
your art.
from ages 11-14, my goal in life, in art, was your art. I can’t tell you how much I loved finding random screenshots of your posts, because I was always just so impressed by how clean and consistent your sketches are, how the characters always stay on model, the shape language, how you could somehow sketch a character in like 20 lines when it took me 50 to draw sans in my little spiral notebook— like! Holy shit! For years I have looked up to your art! There’s still a photos folder on my dads old huge-ass 12 inch work iPad labeled “holy crap” and filled with your art. Because it inspired me so much. It’s become an undeniable part of my artstyle, now — I still have fanart I drew way back in the day of Hattie and the rest, I didn’t even know anyone’s names because I couldn’t play the game, but you’re the reason I eventually did play the game. Your coffee shop au and different versions of the prince— one of those ieterations inspired the main character of my novel! Well, novel that I tried to write, I was 13 so it was eh, but I tried!!
I’m submitting this on-anon because I don’t want to out my age on the wide internet (I like my privacy) but. Your art has really meant a lot to me. It’s the reason I played hollow knight, and it’s the reason I kept trying to develop an art style I was happy with. You’re the reason I started scribbling comics in my notebooks. Being 13-14 was pretty much the worst two years of my life, but I had Bing image search and the occasional glimpse of your signature, and I’d be so happy every time I found a new (if crusty) three-times screenshotted jpg. You literally introduced me to the concept of polyamory and nonbinary-ness with the coffee shop au. I had no other access to that in my household, and. Yeah. It meant a lot to me.
Anyway. I’m so glad I’ve finally tracked you down (in the most non-ominous way possible) and I’m so glad you’re still active— Please never stop making art. Your art is incredible, and amazing, and also you never know who’s out there on Bing image search. Thank you for creating for as long as you have. You’re pretty much the reason I’m shooting for an art degree (Wish me luck!) so just…Thank you.
(Also I had no idea you were a professional storyboarder, which is insane because that’s what I want to be when I’m through college. Hey, maybe I’ll end up storyboarding a remake of something you’ve storyboarded! hehehe)
Hi anon!
So right off the bat, I gotta tell you that this message made me start bawling when I woke up and saw it. Like I had a full-on cry session while reading your message and lying in bed for almost an hour. I am crying as I am typing this response, on my phone, still in bed. It’s 11am and i woke up at 9. So I hope it turns out coherent.
The last two years have been. weird. I say that a lot because I wanna say “rough” but that still doesn’t feel quite right. I’m almost hyper-aware that there are so many people that have it worse than me rn, so it feels hard to even acknowledge when I’m going through anything, myself, sometimes- REGARDLESS, it’s been kind of an all-time low for my mental health. There was a point within in the last year where I just HATED drawing. I struggled to bring myself to work, I struggled to bring myself to even draw for fun. It felt like I was posting just to post, trying to keep people aware of my existence and it almost felt physically painful to force myself to sit down and do it, sometimes.
I’m getting better now, I think, but. Yknow.
It’s so easy to get caught up in the “oh I can make money off this,” “oh I can get attention off this,” “oh I can prove myself a functional person in society with this,” of it all. I forget why I actually do this, sometimes, or if I even enjoy it. And then I get messages like yours, about the kid with limited internet access looking for A Hat in Time fan art on Bing image search, and I get taken back to when I was a kid scrolling Google images and deviantart for the same thing.
I don’t mean to like. Foster some kind of parasocial thing with you or any one of my followers. There’s a reason I’m saying all this, I hope it ties up in the end.
We don’t know each other. I’m not some mysterious legendary artist, or whatever. I’m a person who gets burnt out, and jealous, and insecure. I need inspiration to function, just like you, and when I don’t have it, I get art block. But I also really like to draw fictional characters kissing and hanging out. I like coming up with comics and stories and playing out dramatic and funny scenarios in my head like I’m mashing Barbies together. And when other people tell me they enjoy the stuff I put out when I do this, it makes me really, really, really happy.
I think I needed to read your message, probably. With the state of… Everything… Right now, especially recently, I feel like a lot of artists are also struggling with a sense of purpose, pride, and reason as the world makes it harder and harder to even BE an artist, these days. And when I read this message it was like Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, I got taken back to when I was a kid looking at my favorite artists and studying their style and striving to be better and better at it over years of my life. Not just because I wanted a job for it or cuz I wanted to be a famous Disney animator or whatever, but because it was fun and I just liked doing it.
Thank you, SO much. I say this in the most genuine and earnest way I possibly can possibly express. I wish you luck on your own path in art and art school. And if you decide that animation industry is your thing, then I wish you the best in that endeavor, as well. I think I will keep making art for a long time.
Peace and love on the planet earth ✌️✌️✌️
#alright I gotta get up and start my day I’m still in bed it’s almost noon lmao#you really never know who’s out there on Bing image search#rainy days tag#starting a new tag I wanna keep this
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Animals AU - Shadow's version
A.N: Hello! Chapter 1 is finally here and I'm really proud of it. I decided to use the inspo from the video I posted days ago and this is what I got. I'm planning around 10 chapters for this one. Also RED PARTS ARE STALKER THOUGHTS, and GREEN ARE YOURS. With that I'm out and don't forget to lock your windows at night, he might be watching.
NFSW: blood, stalking, fear, weapons, fighting, bad lenguage, smut. +18
“Baby I'm preying on you tonight
Hunt you down eat you alive
Just like animals…”
“So... you got a boyfriend?” said the voice on the other side of the phone. You had no idea who you were talking to. Stupid? Probably. Exciting? Hell yes!
“Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” you asked in the most captivating tone possible.
“Maybe…” he said, a smug, seductive smile forming on his face. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“You never told me your name.”
“Why you wanna know my name?” you laughed. This conversation had been the most interesting part of your week. You had no idea who you were talking to; it was a stranger. An unknown number, written on the front page of the psychiatry book you had checked out from the library, along with a note that said, "Call here to have fun." Too tempting not to try. You were in your last year, your grades were perfect, and you had been accepted for an internship at the GUN Hospital next year. Everything was going grat, a little fun couldn’t hurt, right? Mailo had tried to convince you that it was a bad idea to call, but in the end, your curiosity won over your good judgment. The first time the call came in, you hung up after a second. Scared, your heart racing, before you could do anything else, the incoming call screen appeared. Soon, you found yourself trapped in his deep voice. Damn, anyone with that voice had to be fucking hot, and if not, you could always close your eyes and listen to his voice until you came.
“I wanna know who am I looking at” You froze, cold sweat dripping down your neck. Quickly getting up from the bed, you looked out the window. Outside, darkness reigned, only the trees and the other side of the sidewalk were barely visible. It was impossible, but when your skin tingled, you knew it was real—there was someone out there. He was out there, watching you. You heard laughter coming from the phone and immediately hung up. With your heart racing, you ran through the house, making sure all the doors and windows were shut, all alarms and lights on. Going back to your room, you locked yourself in the bathroom. This would be a long night.
The alarm woke you up, sore and with a swollen face from the bad night, you got ready for the day. You hated Mondays, but this Monday, in particular, was terrible. You hadn’t slept at all and had hidden like a coward in your bathtub. You had allowed the psycho phone man to gain power over you, and even more, secretly, you’d enjoyed it.
“Someone didn't have a good night,” said Mailo as you both were walking down the main hallway.
“I slept in the tub” you mentioned as you craned your neck to the side trying to find that sweet spot that would make your vertebrae settle or end your life, whichever came first.
“Ouch why?”
“Ah...” You couldn't tell him what had happened. You'd be branded stupid, and scolded by your best friend, it would be a humiliating “Let a friend crash last night” you lied.
“Which friend bunny? The imaginary one?” you heard as he laughed at you walking into the gym, slamming the door in your face. Stupid, sexy Shadow.
“Fuck you sombrita” You abhorred the day your paths had crossed. 2 years ago Shadow had arrived, with a glowing recommendation letter from Commander Maisland they let him enroll in any course he wanted because he would be “the salvation of the world”. Yeah right, that moron couldn't save anyone.
According to gossip, he had been on the resistance team back in Angel’s Island. Surprising to many, even to you until you met him. You were coming back from vacation, in a hurry to get to your anatomy class, you missed breakfast and had to run from the parking lot to the classroom in less than 10 minutes. When you arrived you sat next to Mailo, but during the whole class you could not pay attention, the class was too boring and your attention could not focus on the vascularization of the femur. You settled into your seat and taking advantage of the fact that the light was off, you closed your eyes, heading for dreamland. A hand wrapped around your hair pushing you, causing you to knock onto the table and woke up. You turned around, behind you was a hedgehog with jet black fur and red tips, looking at you with amusement, covering his mouth to keep from laughing.
“You have something on your forehead,” he said, letting out a laugh. You raised your hand and took your pencil; it had stuck to your forehead after the blow you had given against the table. That day you had earned a scolding, an extra job and an enemy.
Shadow was a bastard, with airs and graces. Taunting you whenever he could, pissing you off and competing with you every chance he got. It wasn't like there was much of a chance, he was the ultimate lifeform, at least that was what every professor called him. You hated the moment you found out you would be together once again. The self-defense and advanced martial arts class had run out of instructors, so they had put the two groups together and now you were forced to see him 3 times a week. “It will only be 6 months” you said to yourself as you and Mailo walked in.
Your group consisted of 12 people. 7 for self-defense L1, including you, Mailo, Grant, Susane, Alissa, Roger, and Dalia. The other 5 were supposed to be from advanced martial arts. The instructor, Agent Rios, called them to the center of the gym where the mats were. Quickly, you took off your shoes and tied your hair in a high ponytail. "Listen up, the university doesn’t have the budget to hire more instructors, so I’ll be teaching both levels. However, you’re not the only groups I have, and to make things easier for me, I’ve decided to pair one advanced person with the level 1s. I’ll call out your names and you’ll pair up with your partner on one of the mats, then I’ll tell you what we’ll do next."
"Oh hell no…," you thought. “Alissa and Rene, Roger and Rouge, Dalia and Ivana.” "Hello, God? It’s me again. I know I haven’t been very good, and I really don’t care what you think, but please, don’t let me..." You begged. You really didn’t want to be with him. Anyone but him.
“Susane and Richard, Miss Moon and Shadow, Mailo with me. Alright, that’s everyone. Now, pair up and start warming up. I’ll be back in 10 minutes."
“Excuse me, professor, is there a possibility of changing my partner?" you said, walking behind him. "It’s just that Mailo and I…” “Listen Miss Moon, I saw you last semester. You’re terrible and have no strength. That hedgehog is your best option if you want to pass the year, now if you excuse me" Agent Rios walked past you. Now you had no other choice but to try. The self-defense class was mandatory for all students, even if you weren’t planning to pursue a career in the battlefield there was no getting out of it.
“Great, now I’ll have to worry about two psychos.” You thought as you walked back to the mat where Shadow was waiting for you.
#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow fanfic#shadow x reader#shadow the hedeghog#shadow the hedgehog#sth au#mobian x human#sth#sonic fanfiction#shadow#AnimalsAUShadowversion#shadow smut#shadow the ultimate lifeform#shadow x reader smut
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also if you are trying to get them to take you seriously (especially if you don't have an advocate with you), something like "I'm sorry, it was my understanding that the standard of care is [treating regardless of weight/wearing a mask when doing this procedure/whatever]" makes it clear that you do know the standard of care without coming across confrontational. just saying "i'm going to report you" gives the doctor a chance to cover their ass, and isn't going to give them a chance to listen without becoming defensive as all hell (which. leaving, like the original post says, also won't give them a chance to actually help).
since the "can you document my request" thing goes around so often, if you think the doctor is going to be biased against you (whether it be because of race, addiction history, weight, or anything else), you might want to skip that and go straight to a quick-but-polite "i understand, i appreciate your time" (or just "i understand" and then leaving, if you're really pissed and can't bring yourself to thank them - which is often warranted!) - it won't raise any red flags on their end to start covering their own ass, and then you do the above step of recapping the appointment and sending the account to them (or, if they're speedy about submitting appointment notes, look over them for anything missed and just send them a message saying "I see [topic] is missing from the appointment notes - would you mind adding it in, just so I can remember when we discussed it? Thanks!")
it sucks that we have to jump through all these hoops just to be given decent care, but especially with the current political climate i think it can't hurt to err on the side of being polite to their faces, especially with how notes about non-compliance or drug-seeking behavior (if you need pain management) can follow a patient
i think a LOT of you with chronic conditions should learn this one magical phrase to get your hospital doctor to shit his entire pants, which is leaving the room and saying "im going to go discuss your behavior with the ethics committee, i think you might need a reminder of what your job is"
#some of this is us-specific advice (like idk about recording laws and oversight boards elsewhere)#but i think the general rule of ''be polite when the deck is stacked against you'' is pretty universal
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Could we get a follow-up to the car accident post, maybe? Been getting into the dark Quinn aesthetic lately. Could we see him adamant about you letting him do everything for the reader? ❤️
I don't know if I did this right, tbh. I was confused with "Dark Quinn" when I posted the starter post. I've been caught up to speed...but I still don't know if this is what you wanted. Fingers crossed.
I feel like there should be a content warning with this one. If you're sensitive to dominant partners, emotional manipulation, and the grey line between abuse and control, I'd keep scrolling, babe. 🩷
You were asked not to get out of bed until he came back from practice. You hadn't listened.
Using the crutches had gotten easier over the past several days, and getting around with the weight of the boot on your right foot was getting better in time. All you had wanted was something different than the glass of water set out for you, and you thought you had enough time to get to the kitchen and back way before Quinn would walk through the door. However, you'd get caught while reaching for a glass and the shock of hearing the door open had caused it to slip from your fingers and break against the stone countertop.
You let out a yelp before he had even passed into the apartment. He wasted no time in getting to you to make sure you weren't cut by the flying glass. "Sweetheart, what are you doing up? You told me you would wait for me." Quinn's voice was soft at the start, but would grow more stern as he continued to talk. "Look at me, please. When I asked you to stay in bed, it was so I knew you'd be safe while I was gone."
With eyes kept low, you'd turn your face towards his while he looked for any fresh injuries against the various cuts and scrapes you were still healing from. You knew he wasn't mad; he was disappointed and that would always be worse.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, as his fingers danced over your skin so delicately. "I was just--"
"I don't need you to apologize, I just need you to understand why I ask certain things from you. What if this had cut you? What if I hadn't been so close by, hm?"
You were trying not to cry but it was hard. As you looked him in the eye, the warmth was gone from his face; his eyes were darker as he scolded you in his own way. Your chest was growing tighter, and your breaths would become shorter and more rapid. Quinn, noticing you were panicking, would touch your face after you closed your eyes to him.
"You're alright," he hushed, "just breathe."
With his hand buried deep in your hair, Quinn would guide your head against his shoulder where you'd remain until he was confident you had calmed down. Your eyes stared at the counter, the fragments of glass silently mocking you, the reason you had gotten in trouble. Had you not broken the glass he wouldn't have had to reprimand you as much than if you had just been caught out of bed. Had you only just waited.
You could feel his fingers tighten in your hair slightly, as your own gripped tighter on the handles of your crutches, "Come on, princess, it's time you lay back down. You need your rest."
He'd release his hold on you enough that you could regain your complete balance. You still found it difficult to look him in the eye, and even as he tipped your chin upwards --still making sure you weren't bleeding-- you did your best to avoid his narrowed gaze.
"Did you hear me?" He asked, voice cold and tinged with demand.
You gave a small nod.
"Words."
"Yes."
Quinn sighed deeply, brushing a section of hair behind your ear. He took a step backwards, to allow you to pass by him, but as he did his shoe made contact with something on the floor. "Stay right here. Let me sweep up this glass first, so you don't step on it. Please, just do as I ask this time."
Once he had moved out of sight, you looked down to see what he was talking about. There, just to the right of where he was standing was a large chunk of the bottom of the glass. You felt so tempted to step down on it, but you didn't know why you felt compelled to go against him. Thankfully, for your own sake, Quinn would return from the hallway before you could act on your dark temptations.
"There," he assured, "it's safe for you to go pass now."
Taking that as your order to get going, you slowly limped your way from the kitchen with Quinn following close behind you. He'd stay in step with you as you rounded the bed and sat back down. Instead of placing the crutches against your nightstand, he'd walk them back to the bedroom door instead, rendering you completely immobile.
The way he had spoke was so soft and comforting, but the words he used clashed with his tone. "You'll get these back when you can prove to me you can listen." You looked at him from across the room with a glare, one that Quinn saw the full extent of.
"There's no need to have an attitude," he warned. "All I asked was for you to wait."
You swallowed hard, trying to get yourself back under the covers, your sore knee unwilling to cooperate and bend without copious amounts of pain. Quinn saw you struggling and debated just letting you deal with it --as punishment-- or moving to ease your discomfort. Deciding that there were other ways for you to see his point, he moved back across the room and you stopped fussing.
"Let me," he hushed, pulling back the blankets completely. His hands were warm when they touched your bare leg, and so carefully lifted it up and back down onto the mattress. He'd cover you back up as you remained pouting in silence.
Quinn wouldn't say anything more on the subject. He left you to dwell on your actions, hoping you realized you had no one to blame but yourself. And once he was out of the bedroom, you would hide yourself away beneath the covers and you tears would soak into the duvet, your quiet whimpers falling on deaf ears. Quinn couldn't hear you crying and even if he had, you weren't sure if he would even care. After all, his silent treatment had a purpose.
After dealing with the rest of the glass in the kitchen, Quinn would return to the bedroom to check on you. He wasn't surprised to see you hidden away from him like you were. You hadn't heard his footfalls as your sniffles and gasps for air had drowned out anything else in the room. He would reach for you beneath the blanket, causing you to jump at his touch, and he would be the one to reveal you from your hiding place, yet you would remain on your side with your back to him. His fingers again would toy with your hair, pulling it from your face so he could look at you.
"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"
"No," you whispered.
"Why not?" Quinn pressed, his tone still dark.
You reached for the blanket to bring it back up to your face, but Quinn wouldn't let you have it just yet. "Good girls can have their blankets, sweetheart."
You bit your bottom lip, eyes still facing the bedroom door. "I'm cold."
"If you're so cold why did you get out of bed?"
"I was thirsty."
"I made sure you had a glass of water before I left." He turned to look over his shoulder at the nightstand. "The glass is still full. You haven't taken one sip from it."
You knew what he said was the truth. You hadn't touched the water he had left you, but you hadn't the nerve to ask him for something else before he had to go. You didn't want to make him late because you were being picky.
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are. I don't like having to punish you. You know that, right?"
You mumbled again, "Yes."
"I nearly lost you, sweetheart. Do you know how much you mean to me? I can't stand the thought of you being anywhere but right here with me. That's why when I tell you to do, or not do, something, it's for your own best interests. So I can ensure you're safe, whether I'm here with you or not. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"I need you to look at me. I'm tired of you ignoring me."
Without hesitation this time, you rolled over on to your back, to look up at Quinn as your head sunk back into the pillow. Once more, he'd deal with the rogue strands of hair, matted to your face with your earlier tears. He always wanted you as pretty as possible, and despite the bruises that still painted your body, especially your face, Quinn was still in love with you. You just knew how to press his buttons, test his patience. It didn't mean he didn't love you.
"Have you learned your lesson?"
"Yes," you said, eyes welling with another round of tears.
Finally, Quinn's expression softened. He just wanted you to know much it scared him to have you hurt, so much of your body broken, and the pain he couldn't take from you. You were his everything; truly his princess. He would do anything to keep you from getting hurt again, even if it was yourself he had to protect you from.
Satisfied with your answer, and that your reply was genuine, Quinn brought the weighted duvet back up around you and tucked you in carefully.
"Better?" He asked, still seated next to you on the bed.
"Yes," you replied with a nod. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, sweetheart." He leaned forward and gave you a kiss. It had been the first one you had been given since he had been home. You had wondered if you would have to work to earn them back, but thankfully Quinn had rewarded you early. "Now, are you still thirsty?"
"Yes," you said, throat tight with anxiety and from the fact that you were actually thirsty.
"If I bring you something will you be a good girl the rest of the day?"
"Yes," you nodded.
Quinn smirked, "You promise?"
"I promise."
After a kiss was placed to your forehead, Quinn got to his feet and left the room. Your eyes lingered on your crutches propped up against the wall near the door. In the moment, you never realized just how much you took your ability to walk for granted. However, after the day's events, you weren't eager to get up right now.
When Quinn returned to the bedroom, he had a glass of orange juice and small plate of cookies.
He handed you both the glass and plate without requiring anything from you. "This should tide you over until dinner. I thought you could you use a little treat."
You looked up at him, undeserving, but took them gladly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, sweetheart," Quinn said, taking a seat next you once again. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay."
"Do you need anything? You've not had any of your pain medication since this morning. I want to make sure you're comfortable."
You'd shake your head, bringing the cold glass to your lips for a drink before answering, "I'm okay."
"Princess," Quinn said flatly, eyes flicking that dark tone that they were before. You felt that he thought you were lying.
"I'm okay, I promise. I don't like the way those pills make me feel."
"But the pain, sweetheart."
"I've felt worse. Please, don't make me take them!"
Quinn would try to calm your nerves, "Shh, quiet now. I'm not going to make you take them. Not if you're sure you're alright. Now, I have something else you can take, but they're not as strong. Would you like a couple of them?"
"They won't make me feel like I don't have any control, will they?"
"They shouldn't, no. Do you trust me?"
You searched his face. His eyes had mellowed, back to that golden-green you loved and his face showed no hints of a hidden agenda. Quinn had never gone that far with you, but if he felt you were pushing yourself too far, or just trying to be headstrong, you couldn't help but wonder if he'd switch pills, with you know no difference. For the time being, you'd let that go. You did trust him completely, and you knew he always had the best intention where you were concerned.
"I trust you."
Quinn smiled, "Good girl. Enjoy your treat, and I'll be right back."
You would wait patiently for him to return. The cookies had been your favourites, do doubt Quinn picked them up specifically for you and the thought made you smile faintly.
"What has you smiling like that?" Quinn questioned, returning from the bathroom, the orange pill container in his hand. His tone was slightly teasing, but he would return the soft expression.
"You got me my favourite cookies."
His smile widened, "Of course I did. I got them for you."
He sat back down beside you, "Here, take one of these to start. They're left-overs from when I had my lip split open. They're just a larger dose Ibuprophen, alright?"
"Okay."
"Will you be strong for me?"
With a tiny nod you would agree, "I'll try."
"Good girl, thank you," Quinn said pleased, and handed you the large white pill. "Take that, and you should feel better soon enough. If nothing else, it should take the edge off."
It was a struggle, but you got the pill down. You hated taking medication, but if Quinn said you'd get some relief, then you'd believe him fully.
"Now, how about you get a little rest and I'll wake you up for dinner?"
You expression and saddened, "Okay."
"Why are you sad, sweetheart?"
"I don't want to say."
"Why not?"
"Because it's silly."
Quinn put two fingers beneath your chin and tilted it upwards carefully. "Nothing that makes you sad is 'silly'. Please, tell me."
"Would you stay with me?"
He smiled, "Like until you fall asleep?"
"Yes, please," you said meekly.
Quinn would give your thigh a slight pat before getting up. "Would you like to watch something?"
"Do you want to?" You asked him, as he kicked off his shoes near the closet and changed into a pair of black joggers.
He'd catch you looking at him, and you'd avert your eyes quickly. "Are you bashful all of a sudden? Upset you have to wait to be with me, princess?"
Words failed you, and you prayed he wouldn't ask you to use them correctly. You just sat there patiently --quietly-- while he crawled into bed with you.
Quinn put his lips to your ear, "Because I miss being with you. I would never force myself on you in this state. Your health and comfort will forever be worth the wait."
"Thank you."
"Absolutely," he said, a kiss placed to your temple softly. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
Slowly, you'd lay back on your left side, wrapping you hands around Quinn's arm, his muscles tensing under your touch. You were thankful he allowed you these moments, mostly because you figured he had more important things to do than babysit you. However, this was where he always wanted to be: next to you, getting you anything you needed, no matter how miniscule the request might have been. You were his world, his everything, and no one, or nothing, would get in between his ability to have you by his side. You were his.
No one else's.
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes fic#hockey imagine#hockey fanfiction#💌maven's love notes
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-Okay but some of the fears that Color has are in fact the same fears that Nightmare has when it comes to Killer.
Like, Color is worried that Killer's so blindly loyal to Nightmare for whatever reason that he wouldn't even think of complaining if he hated it. And at the start that was something Nightmare probably expected. His henchmen should be loyal and obedient and not ask questions nor complain. But now, after years of learning and bonding and softening up significantly he wonders sometimes if that's still the case.
Nightmare knows Killer well, perhaps better than most, but he's not exactly an open book. Especially when it comes to his own wants or needs. More often than not when he makes a request it's intentionally silly or unreasonable for laughs, like asking if they can take Dust to the nearest pet store and try to trade him in. Very rarely does he want something strong enough to make it known, both to himself and others, like asking to keep the first cat he found.
So.
If he hated this. If he truly struggled and fought and agonised with himself about the position he's in and the work he's doing and the life he leads.
Would he say it? Would he realise that was how he felt? Would he even consider saying no was an option?
If Nightmare asked him to do something he really genuinely did not want to, would he just do it anyway because he doesn't believe he has a choice in the matter?
The only way of finding out (besides making a blatantly difficult request of him, which Nightmare is not willing to do) is to simply wait and trust that Killer will tell him if something is wrong. Which... is not exactly foolproof or easy.
But it's part of why Nightmare hates to be around Color too much, because deep down he's more than a little worried that Color could be right and he doesn't know how to fix it.
#UTDR#UTMV#Dadmare#This was a thought I had and drafted like months and months ago and forgot about#Little ideas about how to fit Color into a dadmare scenario I guess#Cool people who make Color posts don't look I'm probably doing a terrible job with your boy lol#He's not worried about the others in regards to this because Dust has never had a problem disobeying him#And Horror and Cross set out ground rules for themselves right from the start about what they would not do (murder)#He's never sure about Killer though. how do you begin to tell someone they don't have to listen to you if they don't want to#How do you tell if it worked?#Realistically Killer has and does disobey Nightmare he just hides it well#''I got caught out and ganged up on during that fight'' when really he peeled off to go talk to Color out of sight#''they must have heard we were coming. there was nothing we could do'' when one of them got distracted and they fucked up a job#''we've always had that cat. they're just shy so you don't see them very much'' when he brought home another stray in his jacket#<-That one happens a lot and Nightmare is beginning to suspect on it#But he never sees more than like 4 or 5 of them at a time so he can't prove anything#Whether it's sheer luck or Killer has trained his cats to do a Parent Trap bit on him nobody knows for sure#Anyway this has cooked for long enough time to release it into the wild#Go my post
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I can just imagine Tiffany just watching the mc sleep.
Just imagine curling into your pillows, blinking awake and you see this girl who’s trying to be you taking notes all about you.
Hot take: I would at least try to befriend her, maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t slept recently or something but just imagine becoming her friend. I’ve personally befriended everyone I’ve had ‘beef’ with, so just imagine Tiff apologizing and the two of you just dying the other’s hair, listening to music or baking together.
Befriend the cunt to get rid of the cunt I suppose,
Good morning yall!! I woke up so sick idk why but anywayssss....
yes bro like Tiffany's obsession with reader is beyond weird. she woul literally wear her skin if she good. Tiffany goes out of her way to memorize things like how reader sleeps, how she sits casually, her handwriting, tries to dress like her and wear the same perfume, she even practices sneezing like her.
And as much as I love a good enemies to friends pipeline, Tiffany is just too far gone for that. remember she's been literally bullying reader since like the 7th grade. i kinda imagine reader to be a very kind, shy girl who forgives on the outside but never really lets things go. so while she might act cool w Tiffany while she's in the manor, don't think she's forgiven her. honestly it's gonna suck for the batfam once they realize that the reader holds onto grudges like it's her job. the snake bite also has an affect on her personality, I won't say positive or negative because it's rlly a bit of both. like it makes her more confident, less shy, more sultry, more agile and charming but it also allows her to literally spew venom out of her fingertips (and teeth). i'll dive more into this in another post! but yeah reader and Tiff will not be friends but there definitely will be an enemies to friends to maybe lovers plot with someone!!!!! Also who do yall want as a love interest for reader???? and why?
#yandere batfam#yandere jason todd#yandere dc#yandere batman#yandere tim drake#yandere x reader#platonic yandere batman#yandere batfamily#yandere batman x reader#yandere bruce wayne#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere damian wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere dick grayson x reader
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Peach, Part IV
Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. He wants to move forward with you and now he's got you on his turf.
Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)
A/N: I love these two with my whole heart. This is turning into the slowest of burns, sorry not sorry. This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III. We're at the second week of December, there is still so much in my head to say. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, body parts tingling, wild wild thoughts of breeding, taking each other down in various ways, and cock riding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
--------
On one of your many walks along the beach, you teased your cousin about being the future Mrs. Bucky Barnes, and she tried to get you to talk about Steve, explaining some of the backstory to what happened in Atlanta.
But you were intransigent.
“Look. I know how stubborn you are. And how tough you are, because you’ve had to be. But I also know how big your heart is and how worthy you are of love. You are passing up on the chance to find your one true love.”
You scoffed.
“Love? Everyone can’t be all starry eyed and head over heels like you and Bunny boy.”
She laughed and shook her head at your nickname for Bucky, who you’d grown to like a lot over the weekend.
“And Steven, disguised at Grant, just wanted to get in my panties, which he achieved.”
You looked toward the waves as you thought about how Grant got you to see fireworks that night in your apartment, and the things Steve said that he wanted to do to you the other night.
“I have no doubt that Steve Rogers wants to fuck you girl. Look at you. You are fine as fuck.”
You laughed at your cousin dressing you down and gassing you up at the same time.
“But let’s be clear. You wanted to fuck him too. You still do. I see the way you look at him.”
“Hey! I didn’t lie–”
“Ah-ah!”
She silenced you with a finger.
“I know he lied about who he was, but were you completely honest with him? Totally?”
You side eyed your cousin as you imagined strangling her. But you weren’t eleven years old anymore.
And she wasn’t wrong.
“Yes, Steve lied, but he wants to make amends. He has feelings for you.”
You gave your cousin a side eye.
“Did he tell you that? And you trust him?”
“With my life.”
She put her arm around you and pulled you close as you walked.
“Listen, I know you are guarding your heart, but I know Steve. He’s got this exterior that seems one way, but he will surprise you. He’s a really, really good guy.”
You sighed, still not there yet.
“I’m good on that, cousin.”
“Okay. I’ll tell him that you have a heart of stone and that he should move on. It’s not like there aren’t bitches lined up to suck his dick every day in the city…”
A jolt of jealousy zipped through you, but you pushed it down. You just took a deep breath and gave her an overly bright smile.
“I don’t care who slobs on his lil’ knob.”
She rolled her eyes at you.
“Riiggght, cousin. Anyway. You are still taking the endowment money right?”
You raised your eyebrow at her and nodded.
“Nothing is going to get in the way of this dream, cousin.”
She grinned back at you, almost as bright as the sun.
“That’s my girl! We gon’ have a time in New York City…”
—
Sunday morning before you drove back to Atlanta, you went to the kitchen just as Steve came back in from a run on the beach. The rest of the family was going to Church and then he, Bucky and your cousin were going to fly back to New York on the private jet.
“Hey.”
He chucked his chin up at you like you were one of his bros.
The audacity.
“Hello.”
You kept it cute as he moved around you to grab a glass to get some water from the tap. The scent of sweat, ocean air, and him wrapped around you and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes to savor it. It was like you were lost.
You opened your eyes to find him watching you as he downed the glass in one gulp, a drop of water escaping and rolling down his chin to his neck and disappearing into the already wet collar of his tight t-shirt.
You cleared your throat as he maintained eye contact with you and wiped his lips with his thumb, and some unseen force made you watch those thick fingers that felt you up not a month before, your nipples tight and panties wet.
Damn, this man and his effect on you.
You stared as his eyes swept down your body as if he knew what you looked like naked. He had seen you dance, and felt you up over and under your clothes, but that wasn’t what the look of possession was about.
This man wanted you.
—-
Steve almost ran back outside when he saw you in the kitchen as he came in. He’s taken a run to calm the erection he had when he woke up because of you, and now, here you were, dressed almost exactly the same as when he had the opportunity to kiss you and make you cum in his arms exactly 29 days earlier.
Yes, he was keeping count.
Steve was practically speechless, yet he managed to get out a crude, ‘Hey’ and a head motion as a greeting. What was that?
He wanted close to you, to feel your skin against his lips again, to check and see if you were wet, which you were judging from your slightly open lips and blown pupils. He didn’t go near you as he got a drink however, because no matter how much he was into knife and gun play, he wasn’t going there.
Steve wanted in your heart, not just your pants.
When you closed your eyes and visibly inhaled (probably to calm your anger, he imagined), he used the opportunity to watch your chest rise and watch the sunlight play on your skin. Those beautiful eyes caused his heart to clench when you opened them and he couldn’t tear his away as he drank his water.
Which he needed at the moment. Desperately.
Unconsciously, he wiped his lips with his thumb, remembering the texture of you as he did so. You cleared your throat, snapping him out of it.
“Peach…”
He stopped, waiting for your retort. You just stood there, expectant and although he was shocked as shit, he continued.
“I want to apologize for lying to you and for allowing things to get…physical while you believed a lie.”
You watched him for what seemed like a long time, but was really only seconds.
“I accept your apology, Steve, and I believe in forgiveness, if only for myself being able to move on, but I’m not ready to forget or fully trust you.” Steve nodded.
“I get it. I’m really sorry.”
You shrugged.
“I know you were trying to help Bucky get clean for my cousin, and I love her big, so, I can’t stay mad. And it’s clear that you are ride or die for those you love.”
And then you cocked your head at him in that adorable way and his heart crumbled into the sparkly bits of honey in your eyes.
“I feel like you love my cousin. Like family. So I guess that makes us family too.”
When you gave him a small smile, he smiled back dreamily. He was a teenage boy in your presence.
“I guess you’re right.”
Steve thought of family and a vision of you as a mother had him in a chokehold. You had him raging hard and wanting to bend you over the kitchen island and breed you until his seed dripped down your legs. Instead, he moved behind it to hide his condition.
“We will have to be in contact because of the endowment, which I am taking because of my students and the fact that it’s been my dream since I was 12 years old. It was then that I started being told that I was all wrong. My ass was too big. My breasts were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’”
Steve’s eyes openly scanned you. He looked angry, then scoffed.
“That's ridiculous.”
“Of course it is.”
“Don't change a thing. That would be criminal.”
You paused and then gave him a slightly larger smile then.
“Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I’m planning on changing the world.”
Steve stared at you, astounded at your fierce courage. No one else could compare.
“I’m serious. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that any body with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. That’s why I’m accepting the endowment. We can be business partners if it means those dreams can come true.”
You were a force. Damn, that only made Steve love you more.
“Brava, Peach.”
You stared back into those baby blues and coughed, trying to clear your throat from the lump that had formed there. Your goals and dreams always made you get intense.
“Need some water?”
Steve was already reaching for another glass. His eyes went wide as you reached for his and finished off what was left in it. He almost came at the thought of your lips where his had been. Holy mother of god.
“That hit the spot, thanks.”
You licked your lips and he nearly fainted, and as you turned toward the stairs, giving him a view of your backside, and looked back at him, he almost ethered to the sky.
“See you next week, Mr. Rogers. Have a safe flight.”
—-
Steve felt frantic the entire seven days leading up to the day he’d see you again. He and Sam and Nat and Bucky had lots of work to do, but he felt like a bumbling idiot, because his perfectionism was getting in the way.
Bucky saw the barriers Steve’s mind was putting in his way and spent extra time helping him. That’s why Bucky was his brother, Steve’s only family since his mother died when he was a kid.
They worked day and night, it seemed, to be ready for the summit.
Steve managed to take a few minutes to himself each night, sketching before he slept. The images of you that came from the lead of his pencil soothing his spirit and filling his dreams. They also caused him to wake up with a stiff reminder of your feel and smell in his nostrils.
Steve Rogers couldn’t wait to see his Peach again.
—--
You kept checking the emailed itinerary on the phone as you tried to relax in business class. All of the endowment recipients were arriving in New York around the same time period in the afternoon, and you were being picked up and chauffeured to your hotel, then three hours later, to a reception at a club in the Rebirth Building.
Then, you would be left to your own devices for dinner and to turn in or turn up. Turning up with your cousin was the only option.
You decided to try and catch some zzzz’s on the plane so you wouldn’t be too tired later. You also wanted to calm your nerves. This was a big deal for your dance school, you told yourself. You weren’t nervous about seeing Steve Rogers again on his turf.
Not at all.
—---
The driver that picked you up from the airport, complete with your name on a placard, Nico, was super nice. You were surprised that your cousin was in the car. You two squealed and talked and laughed on the way, and you were in such a good mood that you didn’t pay much attention when she addressed him by his first name very familiarly. He must be a very friendly guy.
Your check-in at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn was a breeze. The concierge let you know that you checked in at the right time; you happened to be upgraded to a one bedroom suite with a view of the New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. The king sized bed looked like a dream, so you took a nap before you got ready for the evening. You wanted to be at your best amongst the other five Endowment awardees.
—-
You walked into the bar, Bea, and you were struck at how gorgeous it was, and how masculine.
There was rich mahogany wood everywhere, and the bartop material was a dark black honed marble. There were luxurious upholstered leather chairs and booths throughout and floor to ceiling wine coolers.
You were looking around in awe as a young woman came up and handed you a name tag.
“You must be Ms. YLN. Welcome.”
You greeted her as your cousin smirked at you. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing wait staff.
“How…”
You gaped at her.
“All staff have been briefed on all of you. Nothing but the best this week.”
“Oh. Okay…” She giggled as you continued your inspection of the place. Steve and ‘nem had more money than you thought. A lot more. A thought crossed your mind.
“Wait. Do you work for them?”
You narrowed your eyes at your cousin as she rolled hers.
“Well, tangentially. Bucky funded our Howard Benson exhibit at the Center and so I’ve worked with Rebirth on some Harlem Renaissance initiatives around Brooklyn and the other boroughs. I’ve also een helping Bucky and the crew prepare for this week.”
“Ah. Okay.”
You took a sip of your drink and continued your perusal.
It was your cousin’s turn now.
“Listen, bitch.You’ve got to chill. No one is out to get you, especially me.”
Your cousin looked halfway angry. But she was still adorable.
“You’re so fucking cute. Love looks good on you.”
You smiled at her serenely and she shook her head at you, knowing you too well.
“Don’t give me your shit, Peach. I was there in Hilton Head. You will act like you have some sense.”
“I’m civilized, cousin. Steve and I had a talk before I left. I’m chilling.”
“You better.”
She pointed to the gathering crowd in the room.
“Now go network.”
—--
Your laugh. It gave Steve goosebumps.
He hadn’t heard your full laugh much in Atlanta, just some low, sexy chuckles, because you two hadn’t talked much. And you certainly weren’t happy when he showed up at your family’s house. But you seemed much more relaxed this evening and Steve decided that it was his favorite thing in the world.
He spotted you as soon as you walked in with your cousin and she was beautiful as always.
But you.
When you finally noticed him, you seemed surprised, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, but not angry at all. He gained hope, and stood up straight, wondering if he looked good to you because you were certainly a vision to his eyes.
The outfit you were wearing was classy, yet could not hide that body from the eyes that studied it every chance he got. Which was every time he saw you.
As you mingled, and he shmoozed, he consistently had to force his eyes away from your tempting curves, your gorgeous face, the sound of your voice. And that fucking laugh. It wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed, seeped into his soul and spread warmth.
Not to mention the effect you had on his cock.
You were a fucking vision in black wide-legged leather pants and a plain white tee that hugged your mouthwatering tits, accessorized with red pointy heels a red clutch and an off white wool trench coat. The edgy outfit was very appropriate for the art world and although you were all covered up, your body wasn’t hidden from him, only accentuated. To top it off, your normally coily hair was straightened and loosely curled, calling for his fingers to slide through the thick strands.
It’s your eyes that got to him, though, those fucking beautiful eyes that he longed to see hazy with the pleasure he was giving you. He maintained eye contact with you as he thought his lurid thoughts, and raised his drink in a salute. You smiled at him and raised your drink in response and his heart soared.
Although he wanted to be near you immediately, he decided to give you some space. He didn’t want to force anything. Well, maybe he wanted to force his thick cock into your tiny cunt.
He licked his lips, then shook his head and scowled at Bucky as he noticed Steve staring at you. But he didn’t stop.
Careful now, Steve told himself. Take it slow.
—--
You mingled and met some of your fellow recipients. They were a diverse group of people from all over the country, but most seemed type cool. There was one who latched on to you, Sharon Carter. She was a photographer from Memphis and was very chatty. She was glued to your side as you made the rounds and you weren’t too mad. She just didn’t shut up.
“How do you like your room? A double with a view of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. And after a three hour coach flight. Fancy.”
You sipped your drink and Sharon’s sarcasm. Your mind started whirling.
“Get a load of those beautiful people right there. Those are our benefactors.”
You looked to where she was indicating and were surprised to see Steve, dressed in and standing with Bucky, another tall handsome man with a low cut fade, and a petite fit redhead woman. They all looked to belong on a movie poster.
But Steve.
He was leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, perfectly tailored dark green sport coat and black wool sweater, hugging his broad shoulders and trim waist like nobody’s business. His dark slacks were hanging on for dear life to those massive thighs, and his thick dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. You liked his hair cut short in the back with the length on top. There was still something to grab on to.
Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that fucking good, especially at this hour, with you already having had two glasses of champagne.…
You caught eye contact with Steve and your world spun for a second as you connected across the room. His eyes… God, his eyes.
Those steely blues were blazing with a heat that you could feel in your pussy, somehow containing a hunger that threatened to consume you. He stood up straight, and if you didn’ know any better, you would have thought that he flexed a little as he stared at you. Your pussy thought so, but your brain thought he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that.
He did, however, raise his glass to you and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.
You turned your attention to Bucky as he started to speak, and grabbed a bottle of water from a waiter, thinking you needed a clear head when you had to actually talk to Steve and not just acknowledge him from across the room.
"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Rebirth Art Foundation’s annual celebration of creativity and innovation in the arts. This is a gathering to honor six extraordinary artists whose talent, vision, and hard work have earned them a place among the most promising creators of our time….”
You watched your cousin who was totally enraptured by what Bucky was saying. You got a warm feeling as you saw what true love looked like. You smirked as you saw her make her way over to him as Nat stepped up to speak. You were so happy for your fam.
“Now Bucky Barnes is a snack. Wonder if he’s taken?”
You side eyed the hussy and then pointed at your cousin, who hadn’t made it to Bucky yet.
“I think that’s his wife or something right there.”
Sharon took a sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose.
“Ha! Nice joke. But I don’t think they go together, meaning they don’t match. Get it?”
You stared daggers at her. This bitch. Then you glanced at your cousin and her man again.
“You might want to tell him that, because he looks like he’s about to take her tonsils out with his tongue.”
Sharon’s mouth dropped open to see them making out in a corner. You couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged, then brightened when Steve gained the mic.
“Never mind him. Steve Rogers is the entire meal. I have it on good authority that his dick is big.”
You looked from her to Steve, a sinking feeling in your stomach. Were you going to catch a case in New York City over a man that was not your man?
Or was he your man?
“Good evening, and welcome. It’s an honor to have you all here as we celebrate six incredible artists who are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in the art world and are poised to change the entire world.”
Steve looked straight at you then, and you held his gaze for that fraction of a second as he raised his eyebrow as electricity zapped between you before his eyes continued around the room.
Sharon was forgotten momentarily and you bit your lip. Whew. You had to refrain from fanning yourself as he continued.
“At Rebirth, we believe that art is more than just a medium—it’s a force that connects us, challenges us, and shapes our future. This week, I encourage you to not only take in everything around you but also to share your unique perspectives. Creation, art, and collaboration are the soul of this foundation, and I’m excited to see what bonds form this week. Congratulations once again, and let’s make something amazing together!”
“Come on, now is the time to meet them. Maybe I can make something amazing with Steve Rogers tonight.”
You let yourself be dragged over to where the four were standing as Sam was finishing his welcome and you introduced yourself to each as you tried to listen to Sharon simping.
Each person smiled warmly at you, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug, which made Sharon side eye you both, but only for a moment as her attention turned to Steve.
“Mr. Rogers, I’m Sharon Carter. You know my Aunt Peggy.”
Steve blanched.
“Peggy? Your… Aunt?”
Sharon laughed, a little shrilly to your ears.
“Yes. She’s my mother’s half sister. Born to the second wife, 18 years younger than my mom. They weren’t that close. But Peggy and I are just like sisters.”
“Oh.”
Steve looked a little trapped.
“Didn’t know that. It’s a small world.”
Peggy leaned closer to him, but you heard her stage whisper.
“Don’t worry, I won’t share the secrets she told me…”
Steve looked at her like she was crazy and then looked at you, almost in panic. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, so you decided to rescue him.
“Mr. Rogers. Hi. ”
The huskiness of your voice, the way his name sounded on your tongue. It calmed him and sent a lightning bolt of desire through him. Steve wanted to hear you call him that in a very different context.
Steve’s face changed when he looked at you. He shifted toward you, much to Sharon’s chagrin.
“My name is Y/N Y/LN, and it’s so good to finally meet you. I hope that this is the start of a great partnership.”
Steve cocked his eyebrow at you and smiled as you took his hand. You initiating touch with him was the start of his wet dreams of late. His thumb stroked your hand as he held it.
“I hope so too, Ms. Y/LN. I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”
“Please, call me Peach, Mr. Rogers.”
Nat came around and distracted Sharon as Steve put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the side of the bar to talk. His smell enveloped you and his touch had you walking carefully, because your knees were weak.
“What did you want to talk about Mr. Rogers?”
He shook his head, his eyes dark now.
“Call me Steve, Peach, please.”
His voice was rougher, and impossibly deeper as he begged, and it sent chills straight to your pussy. You cocked your head and he in turn licked his lips.
“Why?”
“Because if you keep calling me Mr. Rogers, I–”
He stopped and your lust-addled brain filled in the gaps. Your lips parted on a soft inhale. Steve, on the other hand, inhaled sharply.
And then exhaled slowly.
“How was your flight?”
Steve thought it best to talk of the mundane, because he was half a second from bending you over the bar in front of all these people.
“It was… great. I appreciated the business class seat.”
His eyebrow shot up.
“You got upgraded? How fortunate.”
“Ummmmhmmm. So you didn’t know?”
“Promise.”
Steve’s mouth quirked up in a half smile, because he knew you didn’t trust him, but you were so cute when you were grilling him.
“And you didn’t know about the upgrade at the hotel?”
“No…”
“I have a king suite with a killer view of the city.”
Steve grinned now and you almost shielded your eyes.
“Seems you’re lucky.”
You stared into his eyes to see if he was lying, but you didn’t see anything there but feelings you didn’t want to name. But because of your history, you still didn’t trust what he said. Nevertheless, you decided to let it go. There was something else you needed to know.
“So, who’s Peggy?”
Steve grimaced.
“She’s someone I knew a long time ago. We were close. Once. But not anymore.”
You just kept looking at him.
“She’s moved on, married to a rich guy on the west coast. And I’ve moved on as well.”
You straightened up as he gazed down at you. You didn’t know why you cared so much. And you didn’t want to analyze his last sentence.
“Oh.”
Now, Steve was smiling down at you like he thought you were jealous.
Which was absurd.
And he looked as if he was happy about that ridiculous idea.
You were right.
Steve was jumping for joy on the inside at the way you reacted to hearing about Peggy. He didn’t expect to think about her, much less have to explain her to you tonight, but if it led to you realizing you had feelings for him, he was glad of Sharon’s connection. And the way she ran her mouth, although it was annoying.
“You good, Peach?”
You weren’t good. You found yourself wanting to show Steve your suite, especially the ceiling, as you rode his cock on the king sized bed so as to make him forget about any other pussy ever existing. But you must have been tweaking.
You needed to get out of there.
You turned around and went to find your cousin.
“I’m great Mr. Rogers. You have a good night.”
And Steve was left watching you walk away again.
——
Please comment, reblog and like to feed the writer! 😜
#knock you down au#knock you down fic#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x black!reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x dancer!reader#steve rogers x curvy reader#mob boss! steve rogers#chris evans#chris evans imagine#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fanfiction#bucky barnes#kyd fic#kyd asks#peach fic#sebastian stan#chris evans fanfiction
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The Voice of an Angel- Matt Dierkes
Part One
Pairing: Matt Dierkes x PornBlog!Reader
Cw: Smut, Masterbation (f and m), sappy freak!Matt
Word Count: 3.5k
Author’s Note: Doing something a little different. The story seemed to work best if I wrote time in phases, so I hope it doesn’t ruin it😬 And I couldn’t tell you where this idea came from. I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone write something like this, but I did the best I could❤️ I hope you enjoy
Tags: @xmads-omensx @dontwantthemoney @theanarchymuse95 @badomensgoodomens
Y/N | Wednesday 2:36 PM
Kicking off the floor and rolling my chair over to my computer, I plug my phone into the cord and begin transferring the audio file. I should really get a microphone for this, but I’m still somewhat new to this… Yeah, I definitely need to start doing research on vamping up my equipment.
I plug my headphones into the laptop once the file was finished so I could listen back over the audio, making sure it’s suitable to be posted. I live alone, and literally just made all of these noises out loud, but I still get a little weirded out playing it without headphones and need to be able to listen to every detail, making sure there were no weird noises in the background.
Clicking on the file, my voice starts playing through. It took some time for me to get used to hearing me say certain things and make these noises, hell, it took me a good while to even hit ‘record’ when doing this, but once I got enough praise from people online, it just became routine.
My slightly over exaggerated moans and whimpers fill my ears, and I can’t lie, I was pleased with the quality. IPhones have good microphones. It sometimes even picked up the sound of my vibrator or how wet I was based on how close I had the mic to me, and my followers always enjoy that.
After spending about twenty minutes editing out small distracting background noises, I opened Twitter and connected the file to a post, captioning it, "You know exactly how to pull these pretty sounds from me,” before hitting post and then proceeding to do the same for my tumblr blog.
Almost instantly, my phone starts going crazy from those who have my post notifications on, and I read every comment with a smile on my face.
It may seem weird to many people, but I truly enjoy doing this. I get to turn a common activity into a side hustle, and it pleases both guys and girls when they find my pages. And most of them are the sweetest when they reply. They’re usually all horny replies, but unless I post something that instigates them to degrade me, they always choose to be super sweet.
I scroll through some replies and the likes from my followers, and even some who always come back but choose not to follow me because they don’t want others to know. It was nice seeing repeated faces. Like I created a space for them to feel safe to be open about something so lewd.
That’s when I got a notification from my Cash App that’s linked to my accounts, causing a small smile to form on my face when reading the name. ThotxPleaser had been a loyal follower for a while now. He’s following my Twitter, Tumblr, subscribed to my Patreon, and here he is again, sending me a gift.
ThotxPleaser- $250
Sounded beautiful as always, Angel❤️
I really wished that his gift had caused a bigger smile, but I knew this anonymous person’s actions too well by now. He usually gave me a sweet nickname, but today he just used my pseudonym, Angel, and it wouldn’t be worrying, if he also didn’t send the donation right after I posted, again. He always tried to send appreciation ‘when he had the chance,’ even commenting that he was too busy sometimes and felt bad for seeing my posts so late, so it was abnormal that he was so on top of it for the third post in a row, almost as if he was waiting for my posts as a pick-me-up. I know that was cocky thinking, but he’s said before that my posts have made his day, giving me a grateful gift to prove it, so it wasn’t that far off of an assumption. I just hope he’s doing okay.
Matt | Wednesday 2:59 PM
I crash into my bed with a groan. We’re getting everything situated for tour next week and I’ve been working my ass off doing almost all the work. The boys and our team do the best that they can, but I’m the one they run to when problems surface, and with the dates coming faster and faster, everyone is running rampant with anxiety and constantly on my ass needing help with the most obvious things. I know we’re all stressed but every part of my job other than actually getting them on that tour bus is done.
I told them all to give me at least the rest of the day off to unwind. Any problems that come to head today can easily be fixed tomorrow. I warned them that I was switching my phone to Do Not Disturb so even if they tried to contact me, I won’t answer.
It was a lie, though. I would never actually do that to them and hopefully they know that. I just need them to understand and leave me be for at least a few hours before I burn out. And, of course, almost right as I thought that, my phone went off.
With a loud groan, I turned my phone over and glared at it, trying to read what the hell the problem was now, but then my heart skipped as I read the notification.
Angel💋
You know exactly how to pull these pretty sounds from me
My breath hitched as I read it and I instantly felt blood rush to my other head. This had to mean that she finally posted a new audio clip. I instantly clicked on it, desperately needing to hear her to put me in a better mood. My fingers eagerly tap at the back of my phone as it takes a minute to load up Twitter, but when it finally does, I see the audio file and click ‘play’.
I shove my face into my pillow and place my phone next to my head as I let her voice and moans fill my ears. As the audio plays, I can feel myself getting harder. But I am too fucking tired to do anything about that right now. I truly just needed to hear her sweet voice in a time like this. I could listen to her for hours. It doesn’t matter if it’s her talking dirty or making these sweet noises. Hell, she could start a damn podcast and talk about the weather and it would still make my day. Something about her voice always brought me out of any rut that I’m in.
The audio ends and I finally look back at my phone. I debated on playing it again, just to hear her, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to show her some gratitude and appreciation.
I open up Cash App, using the account that wasn’t under my real name, and send her a simple note. I didn’t have enough energy to put too much thought into it, but she deserved something after boosting my mood. After I sent it, I closed my phone and shoved my face back into my pillow, this time with a small smile. Within minutes, I was out like a light, dreaming of what she could possibly look like, and having a chance to actually have her speak to me, just to be able to hear more of her voice.
Y/N | Saturday 6:23 PM
It’s been a few days since the last donation from ThotxPleaser. I try to post a few suggestive posts a day if I’m in the mood, and every single one was instantly liked by him, but that was it. No flirty comments, just what seemed like he was already on his phone when I posted and a simple like. I know I shouldn’t worry about a random follower, but he has always been so sweet and supportive. Plus, as creepy as it may seem, I end up paying close attention to my supporters, and it was obvious that he was acting different than usual.
I tried pushing the worry out of my mind the best I could, not needing to stress over a damn audio blog supporter, but I couldn’t help the fact that my mind wandered, thinking of what could possibly be happening in his life that he was too busy to show his usual appreciation, but still forcing him to be one of the first likes on every single post, audio or not. What could he possibly be dealing with that made him seem like he was so busy that he barely had time to do much, yet he still went out of his way to give me a hint of support? Fuck, I’m sounding insane. Am I overthinking this so much that I truly believe this man was using my moaning audios and lewd posts as his main form of serotonin? God, I need to fix my ego. He’s probably just losing interest and slowly weaning me off his attention…Okay, Y/N, he’s a fucking follower. He doesn’t care about ghosting you. You’ve never even spoken. Why are you so obsessed anyway?
I let out a groan, getting annoyed with my own thoughts. I realized that I was staring at the ceiling, worrying about someone I don't even know, so I quickly sat up and grabbed my phone, hoping that doom scrolling could help distract me…and make me feel less embarrassed.
I open Instagram and my eyes instantly land on the story bar. I scroll through the orange and green circles, hoping to find someone interesting, when I finally do. Matt Dierkes had a new story. I click on it and instantly giggle, seeing that, of course, it was another raccoon meme. Since this was my personal account, I liked his story and went on with doom scrolling.
After seeing only reposted memes and people living their best life, I realized this wasn’t going to give me the entertainment I needed. I close the app and look at my others, before opening Tumblr. Matt was still on my mind. I always found him so cute. I’ve enjoyed Bad Omens’ music for a while now, and definitely found the boys attractive, but something about their tour manager had always caught my eye. He said whatever he wanted and enjoyed things without judgment. I really liked how unique and undeniably him he let himself be.
I try to scroll through my feed, but with him still in my mind, my fingers trailed over to the search bar and I found myself looking up another fanfiction about him.
After a few…okay maybe a little too many one shots and short stories since I was free tonight, I landed a quite…spicy story, leading me to decide this was the perfect time to create more content.
With the story playing in my mind like a movie, I set my phone up and hit record. I was too lazy to grab a toy, and was definitely worked up enough that I could easily get this done manual style. Lying back, I slipped my hand down my pants with his face flashing behind my eyes. In the story, he had a little more dominant energy, so I began imagining him taking what he wanted.
My breath picked up as I felt his hands sliding up my thighs, using enough pressure to keep them held to the sides. He had this almost hungry look on his face as I stared down at him. His fingers finally reached the hem of my panties before powerfully yet gracefully sliding them down, like he was teasing me, making me wait.
I could feel his warm calloused fingers grazing over the softness of my thighs as they trailed towards my core. I began to squirm in anticipation, desperately wanting to grab them and bring them where I needed him most, but I knew if I did, he’d find a way to punish me.
Finally his hand reached the apex of my thighs and I gasped as he grazed his fingers through my folds.
I’m getting too desperate, I have to get this little fantasy sped up. I start circling my clit and letting out a soft whine.
His tongue passes through my slit before finally focusing on the bundle of nerves. My breath picks up as he perfectly laps at it, occasionally circling it with his tongue. As he adds more pressure, I can feel myself getting closer. I look down and see his face between my thighs, causing a small gasp to escape my lips. Once our eyes meet, I let out a breathy moan as my head falls back against the pillow. I can’t control the noises leaving me, the sound of his tongue lapping at my wet core and the image burned into my mind of him staring up at me causing the pleasure to intensify.
As I reached my peak, my mind overwhelmed with ecstasy, I forgot where I was.
“Ma-“ I let out, before quickly gasping and covering my mouth, hoping I could play that off as a gasp of pleasure and not shock at me almost ruining my audio by saying his name. After catching my breath, I stop the recording and sit there.
Fuck.
Matt | Saturday 9:47 PM
The guys and I were hanging out at Noah and Jesse’s house, telling ourselves that we needed a night off to relax and leave the stress behind for a few hours. Everyone’s mostly packed and we have at least tonight to just forget about everything, so they were all a few beers and shots in and it was getting kind of rowdy. I made sure to keep my eye on everyone to make sure they didn’t do something stupid.
I was sitting on the couch as the rest of them either destroyed the kitchen, trying to drunkenly make snacks, or hung out in the backyard, just chatting or getting excited over revisiting places on the tour they enjoyed. I was silently watching them all, using this time to try and force some relaxation into my mind, knowing we agreed that we could take a break from work. I know I could have done this at home, but doing anything with these boys was better than doing it alone, since I could always end up hunched over in laughter at any moment.
I stare off, listening to them loudly argue over which cheese to put in a grilled cheese, and just let my mind wander over how life has been going lately. Thinking about what still needs to be done and what fun things I could try to do before I was slaving away for 3 months on tour, since even when I tried my hardest, I couldn’t push the thought of work away. But then I was pulled out of my thoughts by my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw that Angel had posted a new audio. God, this is exactly what I needed right now. A small smile formed on my lips, but I quickly went back to a straight face, not wanting anyone to see and question who made me smile or find out that it was a goddamn porn blog.
I glanced around the room, making sure that everyone’s attention was occupied, before sneaking my way off to the bathroom. I close and lock the door behind me and pull out my Airpods. I know the house was loud, but the thought of them hearing her voice coming from the bathroom was not something I wanted to deal with.
I put an Airpod in and click on the notification. Once it loaded, I pressed play on the audio. It was a short one, but it was definitely enough to put me in a better mood. Instantly, her sweet sounds filled my ear. Soft airy moans played through my Airpod and I could feel myself growing in my pants. I debated whether it was weirder to jerk off in their bathroom or to leave the bathroom with a hard on, and decided on the latter.
As her voice played through my headphones like a beautiful melody, I reached my hands down and pulled the waistbands of my shorts and boxers down, letting my growing cock spring free. I turned my hat around, pushing my hair back to keep it out of my face as I leaned my hips against the sink and gripping the edge with one hand. I wrapped my other hand around the base and firmly gripped it.
She let out soft whimpers with an occasional ‘Fuck’ and I leaned down and let a trail of spit reach my tip, biting back a groan as I collected it and used it to slicken my movements. It was just the perfect amount of lubrication to move at the pace I needed without making any noise.
I brought my shirt to my teeth and closed my eyes, biting down as I fought back the noises collecting in my throat. I was close to biting through my lip and I didn’t need to get a noticeable mess on my nice tee. Explaining the teeth marks in the fabric would be easy, if their drunken asses even noticed. Her breath picked up, a telltale sign she was close, and that itself caused a tightening in my stomach. I listened to her moans getting higher and higher, subconsciously pumping myself to the beats of her breath. But then, she let out a moan I had never heard before. They were usually whiney and breathless, but this time she used her full chest voice, moaning out a ‘Maa-‘ before gasping and finally letting out her usual whiney sinful moan as she came.
Something in my brain took that personal. It sounded too close to her moaning my name for me to prepare for the instant rush of pleasure taking over my body. I quickly cupped a hand over my tip as my eyes rolled back, my mind replaying that single sinful syllable over and over as I spilled into my fist.
I probably bit a hole in my shirt with how hard my teeth clenched as I forced the deep loud moan from coming out. But I didn’t care. I had to hold my weight up with the sink behind me and force myself to catch my breath through my nose as the pleasure in my stomach lasted longer than it ever has before.
After a few moments, the feeling of my cum threatening to drip from my hand caused me to finally open my eyes and drop my shirt from my teeth as I spun around and turned on the sink. I quickly washed all the evidence down the sink and tucked myself back into my pants before looking up.
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, grimacing in post-nut clarity as it hit me how gross what I just did was. Not me jerking off to her, that was normal, but the fact that I had gotten so obsessed that I couldn’t wait until I got home to listen and react.
I hung my head as I thought about how the fuck I was supposed to get through tour if I couldn’t stop myself from listening to her audios, but also definitely wouldn’t have a way to hide my reaction from them. I just wish I could hear her in any way other than something so erotic. That could hold me over. As long as I didn’t pavlov myself into getting hard just at the sound of her.
I reach up and fix my cap before grabbing my phone and sending her a like and a comment.
ThotxPleaser- Could never find a better way to make my day, beautiful.
I softly laughed at myself as I sent it. I knew I was a freak. She probably thought I was a creep the way it looks like I stalk her with how fast I respond to her posts. But I couldn’t care less. She brought me a happiness I couldn’t explain. It wasn’t the context of her posts. It was her. And I had to show my appreciation, even if I just looked like one of many horndogs in her comments and donations.
Wait…That was it.
I fumble with my phone to open up Cashapp, before realizing how long I’ve been in the bathroom. I make my way back to the living room as I think of the perfect way to ask. Sitting down, I debate on the most convincing price to get her to even think of helping me out here. Tour starts Tuesday and with us all together, missing a chunk of change won’t be a problem. I go back and forth in my thoughts for a few minutes, writing and rewriting my message until I think it’s perfect. Finally, I send it and cross my fingers.
ThotxPleaser- $1,000
All I want is to hear your voice more. Talk about your day, how the weather is treating you, or rant about a TV show you’re watching. I’d listen to you forever. All I ask is if you’d be willing to send me voice memos here and there to get me through my days. Name your price, sunshine.
TO BE CONTINUED
#matt dierkes#matt dierkes x reader#matt dierkes fanfiction#matt dierkes fic#matt dierkes smut#bad omens#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fic#bad omens smut
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Hi — OP here. I wanted to highlight some of the tags that I thought were worth showing from y’all insightful folks (especially those in other countries) who have been reblogging:
Also, since I’m getting a few people reblogging and/or commenting like I’m fearmongering and saying the situation is already doomed:
This was NOT my intent. I am well aware of everything that’s required for this to get passed. I’m well aware it’s a slim shot of it happening. This does not make it a non-threat. Listen to the voices around you — even those who do not live in this country. Listen to them, and take heed of their warnings. They know this situation by heart, from experience. They’ve seen it all before.
Listen to the people who know their history, who know history in general of situations that were similar. They speak the truth.
Me telling you that this will not be the end was not fearmongering and it was not an attempt to be demoralizing and it was not treating the situation like, or implying it was, an inescapable Armageddon. I know it sounds terrifying, but that’s because it is. And people need to see that. They need to think about it. They need to know what is at stake in the event this passes, however unlikely those odds may or may not be.
It was a warning. A call to action. A “unless we both as a country and as individuals act to stop it here and now, this will happen.”
The reason why I did not bring up the odds is largely because I was in a hurry to get this out, because I wanted to alert people as soon as I could. Because this it’s important. As I have said previously, this post was made very early in to this becoming public knowledge. There weren’t many places talking about it yet and I wanted to do so before people started flooding in with the dangerous, downplaying “don’t worry, it’s a 0% chance” rhetoric that would convince people it wasn’t worth acting against and that they didn’t have to do anything, because they’d think they could trust it would all just be okay.
And you should never just trust that it will all be okay, if there’s something you can do to help ensure that. The odds of the situation are ultimately entirely irrelevant when it comes to the necessity to act. You should always treat situations like this like if you don’t act, no one will.
As I have said in another post, while it’s understandable people want to comfort themselves, there is no such thing as a 0% chance, and there is also no such thing as slim odds unless you act in every way you can to ensure the odds are, in fact, as slim as you believe and hope them to be, and spreading anything along those lines is to play an extremely dangerous game that only helps your enemy.
We are not omniscient. We cannot read the hearts and minds of each individual member of congress and head of state and know in an instant how they feel, nor can we see the future. Betting on odds to save your life and your fate and the lives and fates of everyone you know and love when you could be doing something to at least help those odds is a fool’s game.
Do your research. Know your odds, if it helps to comfort you. Check out the links the kind people in the reblogs and comments have sent or offered you and listen to those around you.
But don’t ever assume that you don’t have to act. Especially on important matters like this.
Yes, part of the reason this bill got passed may have been a distraction tactic to get you to look the other way from other things going on; HOWEVER, THIS DOES NOT MAKE IT ANY LESS DANGEROUS OR A NON-THREAT.
Multiple things can be a threat at once. Something can be both a distraction and a serious attempt to alter the course of the American future. You can care about multiple things at once. You don’t have to choose. But if you do choose only a few, certainly don’t choose to ignore the amendment that could permanently alter how America runs and allow this man — or people like him — to have a grip over this country for 12 years each, and pave the way for lifelong dictatorships.
Thanks for your time and all the reblogs that help made this post spread. My blog is not super popular, so I never could’ve dreamed this would fly away like it has, but I’m so happy that it was something important like this that took off.
I love you all. We’re in this together. Protect your country in any way you can. Be safe. There is hope, but it’s hope we need to help carve out by our own hands. Not hope we put blindly into the hands of others.
Source
Transcript:
“BREAKING: A constitutional amendment has been filed allowing President Trump to seek a 3rd term in office.
"No person shall be elected to the office of the President more than three times, nor be elected to any additional term after being elected to two consecutive terms, and no person who has held the office of President, or acted as President, for more than two years of a term to which some other person was elected President shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice."
It was filed by Congressman Andy Ogles (R-TN).
Don’t let this slip by unnoticed. This is not just “one extra term”, it’s a warning shot. It’s a red flag. It’s an omen.
They are slowly turning up the heat in the pan. Do not be the frog who sits denying it’s getting hotter.
One extra term will become two, two will become three, and three will eventually give way to lifelong reign of each president.
Fight. Fight for God’s sake.
Contact your local representative of congress. Convince them we do not want this.
We are going to end up in a dictatorship.
@ikiyou
Please help spread this. I don’t usually get political and I don’t usually ask for assistance but this is important and you have more reach.
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Relationship Headcannons
Characters: Iron Fist, Luna Snow, Squirrel Girl
Prompt: One requester asked for Iron Fist and Squirrel Girl general relationship HCs and another asked for Luna Snow relationship HCs, so I put all three character headcannons into one post :)
Author’s note: When it comes to relationships HCs there’s so many things you can talk about! I know I didn’t cover every aspect of these relationships in the HCs but I also didn’t want this to get annoyingly long lol. I hope everyone enjoys this, especially the requesters!
Warnings: Brief mentions of chronic pain in Iron Fist’s section
While Lin has an outwardly laid-back attitude it would be a mistake to assume that this means he takes everything in his life casually. When Lin commits to something he dedicates his entire body and spirit to it and this includes your relationship. Any challenges your relationship might face, whether it’s an argument between the two of you or the time stream entanglement itself, Lin is ready to do whatever it takes to keep you in his life.
Aside from his dedication to fighting for your relationship Lin is also dedicated to fighting for you. While there’s a lot to adjust to in his new role as the Iron Fist helping people and standing up for others is something Lin has always believed in. With him around you have the most supportive cheerleader who’s there for you in moments where you may be struggling. Whether you need someone to just listen to you vent for a moment or you’d like him to step into a situation to help you out Lin is more than willing to help. Real “they said no pickles on their burger” energy.
When it comes to PDA Lin is comfortable with almost anything. While other people might shy away from PDA due to embarrassment, Lin is just too caught up with you to ever turn down a kiss or a hug in public. While he might get a bit red in the face if you really go over the top with your affections, Lin appreciates every moment of your attention that he gets.
Lin’s main love language is physical touch. As mentioned before, Lin has no problem with PDA so when the two of you are alone you both can really indulge in each other's touch. It’s just something that comes so naturally to him; placing a hand around your waist as you both stand in the kitchen or wrapping the both of you up in the same blanket before starting up a movie.
Lin was living a normal life before becoming the Sword Master and then Iron Fist. While he is up to these new challenges life has suddenly thrown at him, it can sometimes be a lot to take in and can cause Lin to be overwhelmed or stuck in his own head for a bit. So aside from the affection he gets from your physical touch, it can also be extremely grounding for him to be hugged or held by you. It pulls him out of his worries and back into the present with you.
Lin also deals with chronic pain from the fragments of his sword that are embedded in his hands. He’s come up with his own routines to try to alleviate that pain, and methods of coping with the pain when it is particularly bad. It may take some time for Lin to feel comfortable with being vulnerable enough to show you just how much this affects him. But, if you offer to help him whenever you notice he’s experiencing more pain than usual, and especially if you take the time to learn how he manages his pain and help him in those routines, Lin swears he’s never felt more seen or loved.
While it’s impossible to completely alleviate his pain, for Lin it’s more about knowing that someone truly cares for him, and that while he puts his body on the line to save others you’re thinking about how to help him. The fact that you’re willing to put aside this time in your day and put all of your focus into this moment just to try to temporarily help with some of his pain makes his love for you grow even stronger.
When it comes to date night and spending time together Lin has a preference for more relaxed activities and places. As the protector of K’un-Lun he spends his day, figuratively and literally, running around the city and fighting crime. For as much energy as Lin has, even he comes home tired most days after his duties as Iron Fist are finished. And there’s nothing better for sore muscles than cuddling with you on the couch and putting on some cheesy comfort movie.
After an especially rough or tiresome day Lin would, figuratively, cry tears of happiness if he came home to a home cooked meal made by you. It doesn’t have to be anything complex or worthy of a michelin star, just knowing that you were thinking of him like this while he was gone touches his heart. As a hero spends his days protecting others, it means a lot to be cared for in return.
In terms of a date night out, I can see Lin being the kind of person who’s more adventurous with his food tastes. He’d enjoy going to a restaurant with you that’s advertising some new food that’s either really spicy, is a type of food you don’t get often where you live, or has some unusual ingredients. He’s going to be joking around the entire time hyping up his excitement to try this new food. And when it finally gets to the table he’s going to play up his reaction to try and make you laugh.
Lowkey I also think that Lin is the kind of person who eats his food really fast. Like you go out to dinner with him and while you’re just three bites into your food he’s already done. Then he’s looking at your side of fries like “Are you gonna finish that? 😳”
Having his significant other also be a hero would be fun and exciting, but it also might cause some worries for Lin. Lin would really enjoy training with you, learning about your skills and powers, and potentially thinking of ways he can learn from you by incorporating some of your tips into his own fighting style. He would also really enjoy being able to open up to you about some of the struggles of being a hero, like the pressure you put on yourself or how to cope when things don’t always go right. He’d really appreciate that his partner can truly understand these struggles. I can also definitely see Lin starting a relationship with someone he first met as a hero, probably a hero he’s looked up to simped for for some time.
But at the same time, Lin has some insecurities about his title as the Iron Fist. Lin knows he’s earned this title and that he's just as much of an Iron Fist as those who have come before him, but there are still so many heroes who question him and compare him to Danny Rand (cough cough that Moon Knight voice line). This causes some worries to creep in; did you ever interact with Danny as a hero? Do you ever think about how Lin compares to the previous Iron Fists?
If you’re fighting alongside each other in a fight, Lin is of course concerned for you but trusts you to be careful. His fighting style is highly mobile so he takes a ‘best defense is a good offense’ approach with the goal of taking out enemies before they become a problem for you. And even with that, he would still do his best to check in on you during the fight to make sure you’re doing okay.
As much as Lin hates to see you hurt in any way, it’s comforting for him to get to patch up any cuts or bruises post fight. He cringes at the sight of your injuries, but the physical contact really assures him that you’re still alive and well.
Dating Luna Snow, or as you get to know her, Seol Hee, is surprisingly chill. No pun intended While it might be easy to think that the life of a K-Pop superstar would be all mansions and fast cars, it’s important to Hee that she never loses touch with the people around her. After all, the entire reason she wants to be both an artist and a hero is to help people. So when she comes back home to you from a sold out show, all she really wants to do at the end of the day is enjoy some time as a ‘normal person’.
That’s not to say that there aren't certain benefits to dating a world famous super star, if you want to embrace that. As much as Hee enjoys the stage and the limelight she’s also experienced some of its drawbacks such as drama obsessed reporters and the ruthlessness of public opinion online. Going public about your relationship together would potentially pull you into all of that and Hee would never force you into that kind of life if it wasn’t something you were ready for.
Whether you choose to embrace the attention or would like to keep the relationship private, Hee supports the decision and respects you no matter what. Either way, you’re getting a love song written about you. The only difference is if the rest of the world knows that the famous Luna Snow only has you in mind as she sings the lyrics.
Levels of PDA would also depend on if your relationship is public, since kissing the pop star out in public would expose your relationship pretty quickly if you’re trying to keep things private. But even if your relationship is known to the public, Hee is pretty reserved when it comes to PDA. She’s comfortable with hand holding or a quick kiss to the cheek, but anything beyond that she’d like to keep in private.
It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy your touch, she just enjoys keeping the physical intimacy between the two of you completely private. She would rather enjoy your touch at home where neither of you have to worry about how others may be watching or perceiving you and you can both be carefree about your love.
Hee’s main love language is quality time. As both an international superstar and a super hero her schedule is filled to the brim. She rarely gets time to herself and sometimes when she does get a break from her pop stardom, she can be suddenly called into action as a superhero for an emergency. Hee has really learned the value of time, and her free time is especially precious to her. So it’s really a testament to how much she loves you when she chooses to spend that free time with you!
For as long as Hee has to wait to see you sometimes, she’s surprisingly open to do anything with you. For her, as long as she gets to be by your side it is definitely time well spent. Even if you just want to relax at home and do separate things, Hee is happy as long as she gets to enjoy your presence next to her.
Again, with her down to earth nature, even the small, mundane things are special to Hee. Washing the dishes becomes a cherished memory as the two of you work together, teasing each other as Hee playfully splashes water on you or carefully places some of the bubbly soap suds on the tip of your nose. It’s your turn to tease Hee as the radio you turned on for some background noise starts to play one of her own hits, and you’re treated to a silly and lighthearted lip sync performance by the artist herself.
Aside from the domestic nights at home, Hee does really enjoy the date nights the two of you plan where you both leave the home. She has a preference for beautiful, intimate date spots like dinner in a private booth at a restaurant or an evening of clothing shopping at local boutiques.
Restaurants are one of the few places where Hee will flaunt her wealth a bit. What good is all the pop star money if she can’t use it to spoil you a bit? She ensures that both of you get to enjoy a private and gorgeous setting so you can simply focus on eachother, and maybe the picturesque skyline in front of you. She also might not say it out loud but Hee loves taking any excuse to see you dressed up in tailored formal wear.
Speaking of, if the two of you go on a shopping date Hee absolutely loves taking you into the dressing room and making you try on endless outfits she’s picked out for you as you both have been walking through the store. As a pop star her sense of fashion is fine tuned to perfection, no matter what your personal style may be. Even if you have sensory issues with clothing, she tracks down the perfect piece that both accommodates your needs and compliments your figure.
During the course of all of these dates Hee takes so many pictures of you so she can keep reminders of you while you may be away from each other. Her favorite photos of you are the candid ones where you look the most like yourself, though she also likes to occasionally ask others to take posed photos of the two of you together. She especially likes to do a lot of these ‘photo shoots’ right before she knows she’ll be especially far away, like if she is going to perform a concert in another country or if she knows her super hero duties will keep her away for an extended time.
If you are also a superhero Hee is determined to make everyone realize what a power couple you two are. Hee works as both a pop star and a superhero because she wants to instill hope in people, so that people have something to keep them going in dark times. She would love to work alongside her partner to show the world that with both the strength of your powers and the strength of your relationship the two of you can conquer any threat and protect the hope that keeps humanity going.
Hee would especially get a kick out of your superhero dynamic if you are the masked, quiet, and mysterious type of hero. Despite knowing the real you and that you’re much more complex than those three adjectives, the slightly mischievous side of Hee can’t help but play up the dynamic of the bubbly pop star and the brooding hero that others have placed you two into. The fans just love it!
If the two of you are fighting side by side, Hee is of course worried for your safety but she also has a lot of confidence in both of your skills. I mean, this is the woman who sassed Namor to his face while they were both standing right next to the ocean. She’s very confident in her own skills, and she knows that you’re great at your job as well.
You’ve most likely fought side by side multiple times together, so it’s natural for the two of you to try and stick together during the fight. But if the two of you get separated for whatever reason, Hee makes sure to keep her eye on you in case you need any sort of help or healing. In a situation where multiple people on her team need healing, you’ll always get it first and she doesn’t really hide her bias.
Doreen approaches your relationship like she does with everything in her life - with lots of excitement and optimism. With her there’s never going to be a time where you’ll doubt if this relationship is something Doreen truly wants. Even when she comes home from a long day of beating up super villains she still finds the energy to dedicate to you and your relationship.
The relationship also tends to center around enjoying the now. Doreen is always in the moment, finding interest and excitement in what’s happening around her that day. With her optimistic outlook she doesn’t spend much time thinking about what might happen in the future. While it’s great to be with someone who reminds you to enjoy every day it also might be up to you to bring up important long-term topics, like if you two want to move in together. She’s not avoiding commitment or trying to duck out of tough conversations, she just finds it hard to worry about what you guys might be doing tomorrow when she has you in her arms right now!
Doreen is perfectly comfortable with PDA and if you’re comfortable with physical contact in public then Doreen will be initiating it a lot. She wouldn’t do anything crazy like make out with you in public though. Doreen enjoys the sweet honeymoon phase types of physical contact with you out in public, like resting her head on your shoulder or placing an arm around you while talking to other people. She especially loves to hold your hand out in public; on the crowded streets of New York City she’s gotta make sure you’re always right by her (and tippy’s) side!
Doreen would also be the kind of person who enjoys giving you a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek or lips if you’re both enjoying some down time in public, like if you’re at a restaurant or just standing and waiting at a crosswalk together. But if you give her a kiss in public, you’ll get to see a flustered and blushing Doreen. No matter how long you two have been together, a quick, unexpected kiss in public has the power to completely derail her train of thought which is quite a feat.
Doreen’s main way of showing love would be through her words. She loves to talk and that translates to a near infinite amount of compliments. Doreen’s compliments may not be poetry, but you can always tell that her words are genuine and come straight from her heart. Her lack of a filter can be a problem sometimes but when it comes to her sweet words for you it’s cute.
Aside from getting lots of compliments you’ll also get every thought that comes to her brain. You’ll be doing some activity that doesn’t require 100% of your attention, like cleaning your room or cooking some dinner for the two of you, and Doreen will spend the entire time talking to you about the most random things. From what she spent her day doing, any hero activities she got up to, and the drama amongst the local wild squirrels; you’ll suddenly be an expert in it all with how much detail Doreen goes into while she’s talking to you.
And Doreen isn’t 100% aware that she does this. She’s not purposefully trying to distract you from what you’re doing or talk over you. If you have anything to add onto her stories she’ll be more than happy to hear your comments and jokes. In fact, knowing that you’re paying attention to what she’s saying and showing that you care about her thoughts just makes her fall even more in love with you
But back to why she talks so much. It’s just that Doreen loves you so much and she feels so comfortable around you that she can finally let all those hyperactive thoughts stored up in her brain out! She loves you, feels comfortable with you, and has a lot of thoughts about a lot of things so of course she’s just gotta let it all out around you.
Doreen admittedly might struggle a bit if you sometimes need some silence, like if you’re overstimulated from the day or have a migraine. But she’s genuinely trying her best and is sincerely sorry if she’s too loud. As long as you communicate to her that you need some quiet Doreen will try to keep herself busy by either helping you out with whatever might be causing your need for silence or just doing her own thing until you’re ready to hear about what totally weird thing Tippy found in Central Park
Because of Doreen’s seemingly endless energy she has a preference for dates where you two get to actively do something together, like maybe a trivia night at a restaurant/bar where she gets to show off her smarts or a quirky local business like an axe throwing place.
There are lots of weird, interesting spots in New York and as a superhero who keeps her eyes peeled at all times Doreen knows about a lot of these places. So when it comes to date night Doreen is always full of suggestions. It’s honestly kind of impressive how she can almost always come up with some new place or activity that you two haven't done together yet.
Out of all the places you two frequent together Doreen’s favorite recurring date spot is Central Park. There’s nothing Doreen loves more than to pack a homemade lunch with you and walk over to the massive and beautiful park to enjoy each other’s company and some nice weather. Some warm sunshine, squirrels chasing each other through the trees, and the comforting feeling of you resting up against her. What more could she ask for?
That’s not to say that Doreen wouldn’t enjoy a quiet night in as well though. Squirrels get tired too, and sometimes a movie on the couch with some takeout is just what you need after a long day of beating up bad guys.
If you’re a hero like Doreen she sees this as an opportunity to spend even more time together. She would love to go out on patrol together with you and it would honestly be a lot like hanging out with Doreen regularly. Her cheerful attitude really helps keep things light when you're fighting the insane villains of New York.
If you’re in a major fight side by side, Doreen won’t baby you or try to tell you what to do but she’ll be trying her best to stick by your side. Just in case something starts to go wrong she wants to be by your side to make sure the two of you make it out okay. Doreen wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if something happens to you while she could have intervened.
Reassuring Doreen that you won’t be reckless and that you’ll always be looking out for each other will make her feel a lot better. While neither of you can guarantee the outcome, she just wants to know that no matter what happens during the fight you promise to come back home with her and Tippy.
#lime writes#marvel rivals#x reader#iron fist x reader#lin lie x reader#luna snow x reader#seol hee x reader#squirrel girl x reader#doreen green x reader#marvel rivals x reader
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Oh, so we're all about 'I love my wife - I'd kill for my wife' guys here until it's Stonn?? My man Big Pebble????? [Patreon | Commissions]
#tone: lighthearted#Stonn#tos#he is...SO hard to draw#bea art tag#tos art#star trek art#star trek tos art#star trek fanart#T'Pring#listened to 'the wagoner's lad' bc firstroseofspring posted that the song is very stonn/t'pring and WAAAAAGH#One particular verse in Lord Huron's 'Setting Sun' also reminds me of them#'Oh is he ready to die for you baby? No. But you know I was. / I'm fond of living but I would have given it all for the girl I loved.#Oh is he ready to die for you baby now that the deed is done? I'm just waiting for night and the fading light of the setting sun.'#<- the rest of the song doesn't fit them and I don't think Stonn would be spiteful [which is the tone of the song] he is quite#literally ready to kill or die for T'Pring as long as she wants to be together (and in my mind that same verse applies to Kirk who would#kill or die for Spock). In the end Spock 'forgets about the girl' after the deed (supposedly killing Kirk) is done - proving his supposed#desire to be entirely the fault of the fever. But Stonn?? Even when the sun sets (the fire goes out - the fever is no more - cool night#settles) he will still be there by her side <3#Amok Time I love you thank you for giving us T'Pring and Stonn I refuse to make them villains <3 no one is a villain#except....THE LAW!!!!!! -grabs a torch-#I don't personally characterize Stonn as stupid bc I think T'Pring's standards are higher than that#But maybe that's another parallel between him and Kirk - where people think they're dumber than they actually are
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