#especially when I come on here to genuinely talk about my interests

[mostly-imagines]

Motion Sickness

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason makes you cry after a fight

warnings: angst with comfort

“Jason—”

He waves you off immediately, “No, I’m not your problem, okay?”

Your arms drop, “You’re not a problem at all, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Then what are you saying?” he challenges. 

You almost bite your tongue but then decide against it, “I’m saying you’re being an asshole right now just because I tried to help.”

He’s angry and you’re someplace in between desperate and tired, but you push on, hoping you’ll be able to solve this without an extended argument. To little avail though, apparently. 

A tense exhale from him, “I don’t need your help, I don’t know how I can make it any clearer.”

“It’s not about needing it—”

“No, it’s about wanting it. I don’t want your fucking help,” he snaps. “I’m grown, I can handle my problems myself.”

You drop your hands to your sides, “Then what am I doing here, Jason?”

“I don’t know!” You can literally see the regret sweep over his face but he lets the moment consume him and the words linger anyways. 

You know he doesn’t always think before he talks, especially when he’s mad. You’ve seen it plenty when he’s fighting with his family. This is the first time it’s shown up with you though, and while you know it’s not coming from a place of genuinity—it still really fucking stung. 

Far from being in your control, tears slip out, more at his tone than his words, and you remove your gaze in favor of the linoleum tiles. He says nothing as you start to cry, which only makes the heat of the moment worsen. 

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, pursing your lips. “You need to go away.”

There’s a long, hard moment of silence, but ultimately he doesn’t fight you on it, only exhales harshly and slams the door on his way out.

The resulting reverberation of the apartment has your shoulders shaking, tears falling onto your shirt.  

You and Jason don’t fight often but when you do it’s usually about insecurities and fears coming forward. He’d been having a bad night to start with and all you wanted to do was make him feel better but he wasn’t willing to talk to you or let you do anything for him. He gets selfishly selfless like that, but you know why.

You know him, in and out. You could’ve anticipated this—you should’ve. You should’ve approached the topic more sensitively. And it’s not his fault, his life has taught him that it’s safer to believe that other people don’t have his best interest. You know that. 

Yeah, you know him in and out, but he knows you in and out, too. He knows you’ve shown him nothing but kindness and generosity since the day you met and you’ve reinforced a thousand times how safe you are for him. But if he still can’t trust you to care about him, then what are you doing here?

You let yourself fall back onto the arm of the couch, huffing in defeat. 

It’s nearing two in the morning when Dick awakens, the bandages across his abdomen digging into his skin uncomfortably. He sits up, bedsheet pooling around his waist. The ache of the bruising pushes him towards his old bedroom door before he’s even fully coherent, narrowly missing shouldering the door frame as he passes through.

He’s still half asleep as he thumps down the staircase, cold hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He’s so out of it in his blind search for painkillers, that he nearly misses the large shadowed figure huddled up on the couch.

Dick stills, blinking warily.

“What’re you doing here?”

His younger brother says nothing, only continues to stew in the shadows, staring at the rug.

As his eyes adjust, Dick takes in his appearance: messy hair, tired eyes, only clad in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

He rubs his eyes, approaching with measured steps, “What happened?”

Jason remains silent for a long minute before grunting out, “Got in a fight.”

Dick nods slowly, shuffling forward a little more to sit on the far end of the couch. 

“What’d you do?”

Jason doesn’t have it in him to comment on how his brother immediately knew he was the issue. It just makes the entire thing hurt even worse. Instead, he tells the truth. 

“Be myself.”

Dick says nothing, 

When the silence persists, Jason elaborates, even though it’s the last thing he wants to admit to.

“I made her cry,” he says, voice below even a whisper. He hates it and he hates himself for leaving you when he knew he’d hurt you.

Dick nods, not saying anything. He’s definitely been there before, though he’s not nearly as volatile as Jason can be, so he can imagine how this likely played out. In any case, Jason has never responded well to being pushed to talk about his feelings so Dick lets him get there in his own time.

He’s half expecting to end up with no results at all, but Jason pipes up after a minute, voice broken.

“I don’t know what she wants me to do,” he rasps.

Dick takes a deep breath, adjusting his posture. “When girls are mad you give them space but when they’re sad you definitely don’t. Is she sad or mad?”

Jason exhales desperately.

“Both, I think.”

Dick nods, understanding.

“Then go home.”

Jason shakes his head, defeated. “She told me to leave. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“What did you say?”

He huffs, not wanting to bring the memory back up. “I basically told her to fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Dick drawls. “I wouldn’t let that simmer.”

Jason’s head snaps over to him. “She’ll break up with me?”

“No, I don’t—” Dick pauses, thinking over his words. “It’ll be fine. Just go home.”

Despite taking the long route on the way to the manor, Jason sped back home on his bike, now unwilling to leave you alone for another second longer than he had to. 

He creeps through the front door of your apartment, proud and only a little hurt that you’d remembered to lock it. 

The apartment’s mostly quiet, nothing but a lamp lighting up the front half. He can hear the shower running from where he stands, the waterfall noise awfully muffled from behind the closed bathroom door.

He bolts the door behind him, pushing forward towards the hallway. He approaches the bathroom door, noticing how there’s no light flooding out from underneath.

“Baby?” Jason calls it out quietly, like he’s scared to commit to alerting you of his presence.

He hears no response, but he knows you heard him. He knows you heard him in the same way that he knows you’re sitting on the shower floor, curled in on yourself under the sensory relief that the pouring water brings. He doesn’t know how, he just does.

So he leans against the door, listening closely, and calls out again, “Can I come in?”

There’s a solid ten seconds of silence before you respond, just barely audible over the cascade of water.

“Not right now.”

Your volume has him wincing, saddened and embarrassed that he’s the one that made you feel like this.

He reluctantly walks back to the bedroom with heavy shoulders, thudding his weight down on the mattress. He sits half folded over himself for the next ten minutes, thinking only of you, sitting alone in the shower with your thoughts.

He perks up considerably when he hears the water shut off, and after several long minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your middle.

He stands up when you enter the bedroom, hands stiff and awkward at his sides. You barely look at him, having trouble willing yourself to do more than glance. 

Your eyes fall downward, your lips pursing. You instinctually move to clutching the towel tighter around you, more than anything because you don’t know what to do with your hands. 

It makes his heart break to see you so out of comfort around him—because of him—so he gives you the benefit of privacy, turning around so you can get dressed. It kills him to do it, makes him feel like he’s just some stranger in your life rather than him. But he supposes that he deserves to feel like that right now. 

Whether or not you wanted him to turn around goes unsaid, he can only hear the quiet shuffling of you putting clothes on.

He waits until the movement stops, after he hears the squeak of the bed springs and the faint sound of the sheets being pulled up.

He turns around again with a silent sigh, taking in the sight of you laying in bed, back turned to him.  

He approaches slowly, stopping just before his knees hit the mattress. He notices quickly that the t-shirt you’d chosen was one of your own. He frowns.  

“Sweetheart. Can I touch you?” His voice is soft and low, like he’s trying to coax you back out to him.

It takes a long few moments, but you nod.

He sits down on the bed, still hesitant to go through with it.

“Will you turn over?”

An even longer pause and you’re flipping over to face him. You don’t make eye contact, only look blankly past him. Your blinks are heavy, and even in the dark, he can see that your eyes are still bloodshot. 

He brushes your hair back, his fingers feather-light against you, like he’s scared to touch you too harshly. Like he’s touching porcelain.

He lets you hold the silence for a while, reasoning with himself that you’ll talk when you’re ready.

You let it go on longer than he’d hoped, past the point of him knowing what to do with it. He’d hoped you’d yell at him. He can take that, he knows he can. He can see plainly that you’re thinking deeply and wants more than anything for you to say it, scream it if you have to. 

He knows he deserves it and he frankly would take anything over the silence. But then again, he doesn’t deserve the reprieve, does he? No, but he’s not strong enough to deny himself the chance to hear your voice.

“Say it,” he urges. “Please.”

Your fingers tap against the bed sheets for a moment before you sit up, almost defeated. 

You face him, taking a breath and relenting. “I don’t like that you said that to me.”

He nods, brow deep. “Me neither.”

Your shoulders sag at that, and you feel stuck in the moment. You feel guilty too but you don’t know if you should. He didn’t mean it, you know that, and they weren’t his words, really. But the snap of his voice when he’d said it and the look on his face—it made you feel terrible. It still does.

You look awkwardly to the left, feeling heavily spectated by him and so hyper-conscious of all of your movements. The downturn of your lips gives way to burning in your eyes and before you can do anything about it, tears are spilling out. 

Jason sees it immediately, his head lulling helplessly. 

“Oh, baby. Please don’t cry, please.”

But that only makes it worse, the tears falling faster and heavier at his soft tone.

He forgoes asking permission and pulls you directly into his chest, a firm hand on the back of your head. It’s what you needed though, to be close to him right now.

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry, baby—” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a rough kiss as he holds you tighter.

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Jay.”

“No, it’s not.”

That sentiment lingers for several minutes, as he holds you cheek to chest and rubs soothing patterns into your hair.

It’s not long before you’re able to fully relax against him, his touch feeling nothing short of therapeutic. Your breathing eventually levels out back to baseline and your thoughts start to find peace amongst themselves.

When you’re ready, you sit back from him, letting him see your face again.                    

He visibly winces as he scans over the tears on your cheeks, how they’re starting to stain.

You’re still upset, a little, but not nearly as much as you’re sure your face is conveying. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

He shakes his head, “If I ever say something like that to you again, hit me. I’m serious.”

You drop your hand onto your lap, tilting your head at him with a serious look. “I’m not going to hit you—”

“Then break up with me. Don’t ever let somebody talk to you like that, especially not me.”

His voice is hard and you can tell the impact of his words have every bit of weight intended.

Your mouth closes and you waver unsure of where to go with that. Your gaze falls down to where your hands lie discarded on your lap and there’s a palpable shift to the air in the room.

“Hey.” He pushes your chin up to make you look at him, “Listen to me. You’re the love of my life. You hear me? I’m supposed to take care of you, make you happy. I don’t…I can’t talk to you like that. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Your eyes flicker back and forth across each others and you can see the genuine sincerity etched plainly across his face.

He processes the comprehension across your own before his jaw tenses for a moment and he adds, “Nobody’s gonna talk to you like that, much less me. Yes?” 

You start to nod slowly and he mirrors you until he’s convinced of your belief in the statement. 

He rubs calm circles into your thighs as you both sit with the conversation, the light sounds of each others breaths the only sound heard. This silence isn’t the same as it was before though, it’s safer, more comfortable. It’s familiar, if not weighted.  

“I love you,” you tell him quietly.

His eyebrows furrow like his heart was just shattered. 

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

🦟 if you don't reblog things i'm actively sending bad vibes your way 🦟 and maybe also a plague

[ribstongrowback]

i mean, you can replace the word "good" by "fun" if you want, because that's basically what you're doing, but the fact remains that having fun roleplaying takes skill. it takes knowing how to do it, and especially when to do it.

i'm not saying that you have to get a degree in creative writing to be good at roleplaying, or that good roleplaying is some kind of high minded high art. heck, we're talking about toxic yuri here, which is more often than not a really trashy type of fiction (one i happen to love, but i'm stating facts here, loads of toxic yuri is. like. not bad, but not what i'd call high art). i'm saying that making toxic yuri happen is not easy, especially with games that provide no hooks for it. it's something you can elaborate yourself if you're good at creating characters that are good for that and if you're good at setting up situations where the toxic yuri happens but i'll guarantee you that for the toxic yuri to be fun and engaging for everyone at the table it'll take some amount of experience and communication that not everyone is capable of right out the gate.

genuinely, look up what bleed is, look up what kind of drama can arise around roleplay, and look up the thousands of people who talk about how they find it hard to speak up, or to engage with a story, or to create an interesting character, and you'll see the myriad of ways that role playing is not easy, and part of what makes a good game is providing hooks, framings, hints, nudges, occasions that will help people who struggle with roleplay create cool/good/fun/silly/interesting/sad/powerful scenes.

and hey, if being funny comes easy for you, if you and your friends always manage to make each other laugh, if your roleplay is always exactly how you want it to be and exactly as fun for everyone around the table, pat yourself on the back, because that's not as common as you'd think. genuinely, i'm happy for you. but my post was answering the question "why do you not seize the occasion to create toxic yuri" and the answer to that question is "because not everyone can do that easily and dnd makes it hard for you".

ok but what's the purpose of playing ttrpgs if you don't take the occasional chance to just sincerely commit to a character concept that's completely fucking out there

if you're not inventing a bunch of blorbos with your friends why are you even playing a ttrpg and not just a regular board game

[squuote]

I think my main issue with fandoms that become ship centric or otherwise centured around the attraction to a particular character is that there’s just such an overwhelming abundance of it. and then you get like, nothing else. it’s just weirdly isolating when you’re into something so much but everyone else seems to only be into it in one particular way

[mywritersmind]

MESSY - LN4

pt.2

summary : Lando will not quit in attempts to keep seeing y/n piastri. The Azerbaijan Grand Prix ends triumphantly for the piastri family, followed by a flirty dinner, and paper being thrown at her in the early morning.

OG SUMMARY (After a steamy night together, neither Y/n or Lando expected to see eachother soon. Well, when they find eachother in the paddock and come to the realization that Y/n is a Piastri and Lando is Oscar’s teammate… things get interesting.)

listen up : piastri!reader. nothing major!! mentions of sex.

word count : 1453

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m fucking extatic.

My mom and I came to Baku on a whim and now I'm hugging my champagne soaked brother after a pole position with my sisters on facetime.

The race was genuinely insane and my mom cried the whole time. Turns out all the F1 I watched at home is a million times better in person.

Especially when this time I can see everybody’s faces.

An hour later I'm waiting for Oscar to change while my mom is on a call. I look up when someone enters the room, he’s dark haired with huge brown eyes. “Oh- Hi.” His accent hits me and I'm star struck at my third favorite driver, Carlos Sainz.

“Hi.” I smile and look back at my phone, sort of freaking out on the inside.

He doesn’t move though, “Uh… I'm looking for Lando, have you seen him?” At the mention of the McLaren driver's name I feel my stomach twist.

“No sorry.” He nods and looks around the orange room.

“You’re not here with him?”

Here with him?

“No… I’m Oscar’s sister, Y/n.” His face makes an ‘o’ expression before shaking off and smiling.

“Shit! Your brother did well today. I’m Carlos.” I laugh a bit and am about to respond before Lando enters the room in black jeans, a mclaren shirt, and socks only. He looks at Carlos and I back and forth before raising a brow. Carlos turns to see him and says something in a hushed tone.

“Right…” Lando glances at me but rips his eyes away quickly.

“I didn’t know Piastri had a sister.” Carlos crosses his arms as I stand.

“Four, actually.” I laugh a bit, “Norris have you seen Oscar? We’ve got reservations.” I want to talk about his race but it feels wrong. P15 to P4 is pretty wild though. And sort of hot.

He basically laughs in my face, “He’s gonna be a while… No chance you’re making those reservations.”

I give him an annoyed look, “Great.”

“Don’t hate the messenger, love.” He doesn’t even flinch, but Carlos does.

He looks at Lando, horrified like he did something scandalous. As if he feels bad, he looks at me, “Look- your family can join us if you want.” Lando is the one to give him a look this time.

“So your guys’ reservations will work, but mine won’t?” I cross my arms at the men.

“You used your own name to make them?” Lando asks, I nod and as he tries to hide his smile he says, “Yeah you can come with us.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Oscar is confused at the invite but goes along with it. My mom decides to stay at the hotel for some work calls which makes me more nervous. I’m now alone with my brother, my hookup, Carlos’ clueless ass, Alex Albon, and Max Verstappen.

I almost cry when Alex’s girlfriend joins us. Lily and I follow eachother and have DM’d a few times but meeting in person is like me being saved.

“So, Y/n! Enjoy the race today?” Alex asks me cheerily, pouring more water into his glass with an arm around Lily.

“No race talk!” Lando and Max say in unison. I don’t really know how they do it. They race each other for two hours, are always pissy after, then just switch to being friendly so quick.

I look at Carlos who’s talking merrily with Alex, surprising considering he was a lap away from a podium before his dreams were crushed by a RedBull and a prayer.

The table we’re at is large and oddly enough, round. The restaurant is beautiful and mostly deserted except for our table. I’m next to Lily and Oscar, Lando across from me.

I’m acutely aware that he’s across from me because he hasn’t taken his eyes off me. I watch his hands move his Monza pole ring around his finger. God his hands. His hands that were all over me-

“Y/n, What are you ordering?” Lily asks which shakes me from my imagination.

After ordering we fall into comfortable conversation which eventually ends in me making fun of Oscar with photos from our childhood. “Right then! That’s enough.” Oscar eyes me when my phone swipes to a photo of Osc dressed up as a car.

“We know Oscar’s kink now.” Max jokes and I cringe, “What? They always stem from childhood!”

“So who you calling daddy then, Verstappen?” Lando doesn’t miss a beat, Max side eyes him. “No need to be ashamed, Osc.”

“Not in front of my baby sister, please.” He looks around the group who are all laughing.

“Come on, you're a year older than me!” I sigh, “You don’t know what I get up to.”

He makes a disgusted face.

“Or who.” I add simply, sipping my drink as Lando chokes on his. His face is red after Max slaps him on the back.

Oscar ends up changing the conversation around to old karting days and how I was dragged along. I eventually excuse myself to the bathroom, checking my hair and washing my hands, as I leave I run into Lando.

“Hi pretty.” He smirks as I roll my eyes.

“Would you stop staring at me? Oscar isn’t blind.”

He shrugs, “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s kinda difficult when you look like that.” I’m going to pretend that didn't do something to me and move on.

“Nice race today. Sort of impressive.” I match his cool demeanor which he loses after my words.

“A compliment?” He grins, god his smile is ridiculous and when it’s directed at me I want to faint, “Thanks love. Wanna celebrate with me later?”

“Careful with the nickname, Norris. I’ll be celebrating with the man who actually won.”

Speaking of, Oscar joins us in the hall, his face dropping when he sees us, “Please tell me you aren’t friends already.” I stand up straighter, “I can’t have you two combine forces against me.”

This makes me laugh, “Don’t worry, Osci.” I squeeze his shoulder before stepping away.

Lando follows, “Yeah I don’t think we’re the friends type.” I eye him behind me, he just winks.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m pretty sure the world is working against me. Or maybe for me?

We’ve got an extra day in Baku to spend with Oscar. I woke up early, getting hot chocolate and settling on my balcony with my book and pajamas.

I’m happy in the early light, breathing in the fresh air when I hear a whistle. My eyes are drawn down to the man running shirtless, shading his eyes from the sun while looking up at me.

“Good morning!” Lando sings, that smile already planted onto his face. He looks way too tan, sweaty, and fit for five in the morning.

“Morning.” I say back.

“Watcha reading?” I raise a brow, confused because no guy ever cares about that.

“Um. Little women.” I close the book and flash him the cover. He nods.

“I have something for you!” He reaches into his pocket and I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a boom box.

He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, “Are you sending me a nude by hand?”

He laughs out loud, “No! It’s my number!” He throws it up but the wind pushes it right back down, landing at his feet.

He frowns and tries again, “You’re quite bold for a one night stand.” The paper falls again and I try not to laugh. He grabs it, looking up at me once again. I can see the blueness of his eyes even from stories up.

“Who said it was just a one night stand?” He squeezes the paper tighter. When he throws it once more, it finally lands on my balcony but Lando’s eyes jet to the balcony next to mine.

“The hell are you doing?” My brother's voice makes my eyes go wide. I had forgotten he’s right next door.

“Coming to see you, of course!” Lando opens his arms wide.

I can practically hear Oscar shaking his head, “Go away.” Lando nods and starts to jog backwards, his eyes meet mine once last time, making my breath stop short.

He smiles wider, turning around and following his route.

I shake my head, smiling to myself and opening the crinkled ball of paper. It reads his number and a small note.

Give me a chance, Y/n. You won’t regret it.

[cazshmere]

Astrology Observations Pt.5

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!!

🔮 When Venus is transiting your 5th house, you tend to become more active on social media (posting pictures, TikToks, videos, etc.) and you feel like going out of your comfort zone a bit more. It's a very fun time with a lot of playful energy 🩵✨

🔮 Can we talk about how good a Cancer Mercury's memory is? THEY have that photographic memory and remember everything so vividly. Also, they are such good listeners. If you’re a yapper get yourself a cancer mercury friend cause you best believe they’d genuinely be interested in listening to you yap away haha😭. Such a good placement to have imo (esp if there are no harsh Neptune/Saturn aspects)

🔮 A question for those with prominent Sagittarius and 9th house placements: Did y’all ever just stay with your grandparents for a long time, be it on vacation or something?

🔮 Lilith square Moon natives are afraid to express their emotional needs and feel embarrassed when they do. They immediately regret being vulnerable and wish they wouldn’t have let their guard down. It’s so sad to see honestly :((, y’all deserve the tightest hugs fr 🫂

🔮 I've noticed that people with Sagittarius placements often end up being the butt of the joke. Most of the time, they laugh it off, but it does bother them. They don’t want to ruin the “vibe” by bringing this up so they end up just going along with it 🥲

🔮 Virgo men and playing the victim in situations where they are confronted in go hand in hand plus the amount of self pitying that goes on is ridiculous 💀. Every Virgo man, when at fault, will say things like, "I know I AM a burden to you," "I know you hate ME, I would hate MYSELF too," "I know I AM a loser, and I don't know how you even stayed with ME" like boi stfu😭😭😭

🔮 Mercury trine Mercury synastry could possibly indicate having similar music tastes. The type of couple who’d share earphones and just vibe to songs together 🥺🎧

🔮 Virgo women (especially Sun, Venus, and Rising) pull off the ‘no-makeup makeup’ look so effortlessly. Natural beauties right here 🥰🤩

🔮 When it comes to celebrities or idols you really like, there's definitely some 1st house/5th house/8th house or 10th house synastry involved 👀

🔮 Aries moon friends are the best type of friends to have fr, no bs and the realest ones out there. They’re extremely motivating and will definitely help in uplifting your mood no matter what. A true ride or die friend unless you piss them off 😭🤪

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

banner credits : @anitalenia <3

[blond3ang3l]

Eren is a geek lover. He absolutely is enamored with you. Watching your lips with every word you spoke. The way you got excited telling him about every single new detail of the things you got interested in. Eren worked hard as a famous rnb singer, long days in the studio trying to perfect his songs. Then having to perform when he literally had the WORST anxiety known to man. It always felt like someone needed him and was on his ass about something.

But he did it all for you. For moment like this were he could come home and listen to you tell him. About the things you’ve watched in your huge list of video essays that you had in a playlist on YouTube. How you lit up telling him different facts from how the dating game killer had a coworker that also happened to be a serial killer and he didn’t know to the conspiracy theory of the 27 club, no matter what you said it always made you so happy and seeing you all giddy and stimming while you talked to him made him so content with his life.

…and his dick very hard

“I know cotards syndrome, Koro, Diogenes, fregoli, hypochondria, pica, capgras, boanthropy, apotenmophilia, kulver bulcy, ekbom, erotomania, Stendhal. Pics is like one of the more well known. You know that show my strange addiction that we watch together? Yeah so like those people who eat the random shit like the lady who ate rocks- omg that reminds me!”

Erens ass was not listening one bit. He was watching you, watching your body. You guys had been apart for a little over a month so could do a very short tour in another country and he was sick as fuck that he couldn’t bring you. Everyone knew it too. His attitude fucking sucked that trip. He was antsy, his anxiety was through the roof, he snapped at everyone, overall he fucking hated it. But now, sitting here with you he finally felt at peace.

You were sitting on his lap, yapping his ear off. His eyes couldn’t help but wander to your legs which lead him to notice you were wearing his boxers. The way your thick thighs filled them out compared to his own, he couldn’t resist grabbing them. Grabbing them led to groping them, which lead to him sneaking his hands under the boxer. This caught you off guard and stopped your sudden rant with a small gasp. He chuckled and slipped two fingers in his mouth covering them in his saliva before slipping them back under the boxers.

“Cmon baby, keeping telling me about the little videos.”

He had to have been joking. No way was he just gonna pretend he wasn’t teasing you. Like his finger wasn’t circling around your aching hole.

“Go on I’m waiting baby. Keeping telling me bout what you learned.”

As much as you wanted to roll your eyes you knew it would get you no where. This wasn’t a new thing, eren was always so needy. It was always worse after a tour. Even if it had only been a relatively short one.

“Okay well like I was saying, erotomania is something that a lot of celebrity stalkers have. Especially kpop ones. It’s when someone genuinely believes they’re in a relationship with a celebrity. Remember that girl that literally would follow you to the airport? That crazy bitch probably had it.”

Eren couldn’t help but bite his lip as he listened to you go on. God you looked so fucking good. Your hair looked so good. He was so glad he got you your own personal stylist so you never had to worry about needing to go to a shop or someone else’s house. You smelled so good too. That vanilla body oil you used was just fucking irresistible. He didn’t know whether he liked that one or the strawberry poundcake one more. Either way it only made him want you more.

He slowly slid a finger inside you, watching your face contort as you tried to keep your composure. A deep chuckle erupted from his throat. He missed seeing your face. Facetime wasn’t enough. Having to sneak off to the bathroom to jerk off to pictures and homemade pornos wasn’t enough for him. He needed to see you. To feel you. He slid his free hand up your shirt, groping your chest as he thrusted finger in out and of you.

“R-ren, fuck. Cmon baby, how am i supposed to talk while you’re doing this.”

Your whines only made eren smile as he thrusted a second finger inside you. He watched you as you threw your head back while crying out. He was enjoying every second of teasing you. You were so impatient and he knew it. That’s why he catered to every need you had. You hated having to wait and tended to be bratty when you did. So he made everything about you. Whatever you wanted you had. But this time he needed to be selfish. He wanted to watch you come undone first. And that’s exactly what we’re doing.

Your tight grip on his shoulders told him everything. Your nails were digging deep into his skin as you pushed back against his fingers. You didn’t want to admit it but you missed Ren so much. Your fingers and toys didn’t compare to what he could do. How he could prolong your orgasm by teasing you. He could feel you leaking all over his thigh, his boxers now all sticky along with his thigh. He slowly slid his fingers out of you causing you whine.

He didn’t feel bad at all. It was about him this time. He gripped your hips dragging you along his thigh, making it even more of a mess. You hid your face out of embarrassment. It was too much at how he could make you a whiny mess. No other man could do this to you but him.

You couldn’t help the small noises that fell past your lips as you grinded against his thigh. Eren shivered feeling your warm breath against the side of his neck. The way you tugged at his hair he knew you were close. He could read your body like a damn book.

“Cmon baby, almost there. Let me see you.”

“F-fuck ren, I cant.”

Eren wasn’t having that at all. You couldn’t what? You were gonna disobey him? No chance in hell. He gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him

“You telling me no baby? I could have sworn I said I wanted to see your face. I’ve been gone for a long time and you think your whining is gonna stop me?”

You loved moment like this when Eren suddenly got serious. He was…well he was very off Standish which came off to mean as others. But he babied you. The moment you told him no thought after he told you to do something? It was like a switch flipped in him. His tight grip on your face was only turning you on more which made you rut against his leg faster.

“You’re gonna be good aren’t you baby? Gonna cum for me like a good little whore?”

You eagerly nodded as you bit your lip. You could only cry out his name as you came all over his thigh, making a mess in his boxers. Eren kept his grip on your face to make sure you maintained eye contact the entire time. A smirk creeping on his face as you came.

“There you go baby, let’s go get you cleaned up..”

———————————————————————

@merakidoll Eren fic just like I promised🫶🏽

———————————————————————

Based of a conversation with my boyfriend where I literally was going on about mental illness during my rant about the many video essays I watch

[baphmochii]

Inmate Sal x f!reader ~ PenPal (HC's)

18+/CW: SFW with a dash of NSFW. PenPal turned Romantic. Reader is female and of age (adult).

°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°

This is something I thought of and I'm hoping it doesn't turn out awful. I know that no one's perfect when it comes to writing anything but.. *exhale* here we go.

°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°

✯ (How it Started): You're close friend had told you about inmate penpal's, they would read you their letters of what their penpal would write and it sparked an interest if you wanting to have a penpal.

✯ After getting set up and registering for a penpal, to your luck you manage to get Sal. It started off as (surprisingly) friendly back and forth conversation. It felt as if you were talking with an old friend you haven't seen in years, you would write Sal about your day, what you plans you had, college and other normie things. Sal would write to you about his day and what goes on in prison. (ex: riots, stabbings, etc.) The usual of what happens in a prison.

✯ You would eventually send Sal a photo of yourself after some time of talking and getting to know each other via letters, you slipped your photo in with the most recent letter you sent off to him. Once he got that letter and opened it, seeing your gorgeous face.. something changed in him.

✯ Sal was infatuated with you. Truth behold.. Sal was starting to gain feelings for you, strong romantic and sexual feelings. To admit, there were a few times Sal beat his cock silly to the photo of you, he felt shame afterwards, perverted too. He would imagine that it was you on your hands and knees, sucking his thick cock, taking it as deep as it would go down your tiny throat. The things he wanted to do to you... and you didn't even know it. Yet.

✯ Sal would manage to send a photo of himself to you (making a trade with another inmate), he would also slip his photo into his recent letter he sent off to you. Once you got it, you got to see him. Yes, you've seen mugshots of him before but that was along time ago and this was recent. He was.. handsome, he looked quite mysterious. His prosthetic made you feel.. tingly. You wanted to see more of him, especially his face. That would be asking for too much.

✯ The both you would still have conversations but there would also be.. "interesting" conversation. You would engage first with the explicit talk: "I have to be honest Sal.. I played with myself to your photo. I really want you inside of me, I really.. just want you to break me til' I'm unable to walk or form a sentence." You wrote in one letter. In return, Sal would praise you, call you his "good girl", his. Only his.

. . "You make me go feral inside of my cell. You're all I can think about, day and night, princess. I really want to feel your skin, you look so soft." . .

. . "In the showers when I'm alone. All I can think about is wanting to shower with you, our bare skin pressed together as we get each other clean." . .

. . "How are you doing today, princess? Did you remember to eat today? How were your finals today, too? I hope you did your best on it, you're my smart girl." . .

✯ I forgot to mention: Aside from the usual conversation and sexual talk/teasing of each other. Sal would regularly make sure you were eating, making your bed, brushing your teeth, just overall genuinely caring about you. Sal doesn't see you as his "little fuck toy" he sees you as his princess. His precious girl to care for you, he desperately wishes he wasn't behind bars so he can be with you. Sal has never felt this way in a long time with anyone, he's been through so much. Sal is quite surprised you feel the same way towards him.

✯ Being in love with an inmate and yes, a murderer despite him not having a choice. You loved the man, you shared personal things with him, shared many things with him actually. If only there was a way to get him out, to get him his freedom he deserved so badly.

✯ In your recent letters, you and Sal scheduled a meetup at Nockfell Prison. You two would finally see each other face-to-face for the first time. It made the both your hearts beat and flutter like there was no tomorrow, he had so much to tell you and you, the same. You'd finally be able to see his beautiful face (even if it's his prosthetic). It was a face you'd grow to love.

... Bonus!!🎉 (18+) 🥵

✯ Remember how you and Sal would send each other photos yourselves? Well, yes, the both of you would send naughty pictures to each other too.

✯ Sal loved when you would send photos of your naked body. He yearned to touch your curves, feel your breasts and squeeze them in his large hands. He wanted to feel every inch of you.

✯ I do think at one point Sal had manage to photograph his cock (a dick pic lol) and when you saw the image - THIS MAN IS HUNG. You always wondered how big or what it looked like but, the guy is big (8inches).

✯ Ah sending each other naughty pics was what got both of you through your days. Sal made a private folder (somehow) of all the naked/lewd pics of you, his girl. His little shrine~

°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°°.✯🖤✯.°

Phew! I hope I did good at writing this, this was all off the top of my head but I really wanted to write a penpal turned romantic type of thing, I guess? If you all want more or wanna ask questions (it can be SFW/NSFW questions)

Reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Inbox is Open - 24/7 - SFW/NSFW Asks/Questions are Allowed ❤️

- Aki✯

[nihilistem]

adhd study tips.

by a stem student with adhd.

disclaimer!!! I’m by no means an expert in mental health or adhd but I do happen to have it. My intention with this post is to help others with adhd get more comfortable with studying so the process will be smoother for them!! At the end of the day, despite having the same disorder our brains will still work differently so do keep in mind that these may or may not help you, but are something you can try out if you’re stuck on not being able to study efficiently.

here’s some adhd study affirmations + tips on straying from discouragement if you’re experiencing burnout.

(And here’s part 2 of adhd study tips.)

I’ll start this off by listing more commonly known study tips that also work well with adhd.

change up your environment every now and then. we seek novelty even more than neurotypical people already do so switching it up will definitely help in our studies, especially if the place is well lit!

try some questions of the topic you’re trying to learn even when you know nothing about it. both neurotypical and neurodivergent brains are hardwired to remember things when we are proven wrong, and this is a great way of utilizing this neurological response!

take walks, exercise or stretch during your breaks. this tip is very effective at satiating our hyperactivity and also keeps us energized throughout our study session.

keep a notebook for your brain dump / ideas. we always either think of really stupid things or the most brilliant ideas in the middle of our study sessions and it almost always leads to distraction, but writing it down somewhere lets your brain know that the idea isn’t going anywhere and you can continue studying.

now, onto the tips that have personally helped with my adhd (and I haven’t seen many others talk about.)

alternate between various study plans, routines, schedules and techniques and always be open to finding more of them. majority of the time people always say ‘have a routine that works for you and stick with it’ but our adhd brains get bored very quickly, especially when it comes to repeated routines and schedules. I personally never stick to the same routine or plan more than three days in a row and sometimes I even make a plan on the spot and I’ve been more productive doing that than when I had only one or two study routines to switch between.

do not time yourself at the very beginning. Instead, focus on something in your studies you’re interested in and start there. what do I mean by this? well, since starting is always the hardest, when we begin our very first pomodoro we might find ourselves spending the first 25 minutes zoning out on a textbook just to get that ‘study time’ in even though you didn’t actually learn or recall anything. So to combat this, begin with something you’re genuinely curious about, or ask a question you can’t help but wonder the answer to. Once you find the answer, you might find you’re more in the zone and can continue from there. If not, take a short break and begin the pomodoros afterwards.

if you’re zoning out while reading up on a topic, try walking around while reading, looking at different sources on it or do some questions on that topic. again, novelty always gets us every time. sometimes the problem may be that the explanation in front of you isn’t making sense in your head and other sources may phrase things in a way that is better for your understanding. perhaps the problem is that you’re staying too still and you need to satisfy the hyperactive part of your adhd. or maybe your brain subconsciously believes that they already know what needs to be known about this topic, and there’s no better way to test that by trying out some questions on it.

switch between lyrical and non-lyrical music playlists, but make sure the lyrical music inspires you to excel. this definitely won’t apply to a lot of people but I found that when I constantly listened to piano, lo-fi or just non-lyrical music while studying in general, it actually promoted my likelihood of zoning out. but recently I found a playlist I deeply resonated with that was related to my studies called, ‘pov : a try-hard mid student who wants to ace everything’ and because I related very deeply with both the title and the lyrics of the songs, I was actively being encouraged to study as I was studying. but I also recognize when I really need to think in certain areas and that’s when I switch back to the non-lyrical music.

this is all I have as of right now but please do lmk if you guys want more of these!! I really wanna help out as much people as possible because my studies suffered greatly due to both my adhd and my late diagnosis of it and I’d love to help out others going through something similar.

[caitified]

player

caitlin clark x reader

warning:none

when you first met caitlin, it was easy to see why people were drawn to her. she was magnetic—every room she entered, every conversation she started, it was all effortless. but there was also the reputation that preceded her. people knew her as the star who never stayed in one place for long, especially when it came to relationships. caitlin clark wasn’t exactly known for settling down, and she didn’t try to hide it. she’d be spotted out with different women, never keeping any one person in her orbit for long.

so, when caitlin’s attention turned to you, you were more than a little skeptical.

she met you at a party—some mutual friend’s get-together after one of her games. you were minding your own business, maybe even hoping to get out early, when she approached you.

“hey”, she said, her smile warm but teasing. “you’re not just here for the free drinks, are you?”

you blinked, surprised she was talking to you. “and if i am?”

she laughed, a low, genuine sound that made your stomach do a little flip. “then you’re my kind of person.”

you chuckled, giving her a skeptical look. “don’t you have an entire fanbase waiting to talk to you?”

she shrugged, her eyes not leaving yours. “they’re not as interesting as you.”

it was flattering, of course, but you weren’t new to her game. she was caitlin clark, and she was known for treating people like passing thrills—fun for a while, but never sticking around for long. so you kept her at arm’s length, playing it cool and keeping your responses polite but distant. after all, you weren’t interested in being another one of her short-lived flings.

but caitlin wasn’t one to give up. over the next few weeks, she found ways to stay in touch. she’d text you good morning, send you funny pictures, and ask you out for coffee or a casual dinner. each time, you told yourself to keep your guard up, but she was hard to resist. she was charming and attentive, always knowing just what to say to make you laugh or feel special. she’d remember little things you told her, bringing them up in later conversations as if to show you she was listening.

still, that nagging voice in the back of your mind kept telling you this was temporary. after all, she was still seen out with different people, and the tabloids loved to speculate about her love life. every time you started to let your guard down, you’d see a picture of her with someone else, smiling that same smile, looking just as charming as she did when she was with you. it was a painful reminder that you weren’t the only one she paid attention to.

one night, after an especially intense game, she called you, her voice sounding unusually quiet. “are you free tonight? i’d love to see you.”

you hesitated, part of you wanting to say yes, the other part reminding you of all the reasons you’d kept her at a distance. but something in her voice—something soft, almost vulnerable—made you agree. when she showed up at your door, she looked different, tired and almost…nervous. she wasn’t the composed, larger-than-life caitlin you were used to. she looked more like a real person, like someone who was carrying a weight they couldn’t quite shake off.

“thanks for letting me come over,” she said, stepping inside, her voice soft.

“you sounded like you needed it,” you replied, trying to keep things casual.

she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “i just…it’s been a rough week.” she looked at you, her eyes tired but sincere. “i know i come across as this person who doesn’t care, who just floats from one thing to the next…but it’s not like that with you.”

you arched an eyebrow, trying to hide your skepticism. “it’s hard to believe that when i see you out with different people all the time.”

she looked down, a flash of regret crossing her face. “i know. and i get it—that’s on me. i know i haven’t given you any reason to believe me.” she paused, taking a deep breath. “but you’re not just anyone to me. i don’t know how to explain it, but with you…it feels different.”

you felt your heart tug, but you kept your expression guarded. “i’m just not interested in being someone’s temporary distraction, caitlin.”

she took a step closer, her gaze intense. “you’re not a distraction. if anything, you’re the only thing that feels real.” she reached out, hesitating for a moment before taking your hand. “when i’m with you, it’s like all the noise fades away. i don’t care about the attention or the spotlight—I just want to be with you.”

you wanted to believe her, wanted to let yourself fall into the warmth of her words. but every time you started to soften, memories of all the times you’d seen her with someone else would resurface, reminding you of the risk. “i don’t know, caitlin,” you said, pulling your hand away gently. “i don’t know if i can trust this. it’s hard to shake the feeling that…that i’m just another thrill for you.”

she looked devastated, her hands clenching and unclenching as if she didn’t know what to do. “i get that. i do. and if it takes time for you to believe me, then i’ll wait. i just need you to know that i’m not going anywhere.”

you were silent, your mind a whirlwind of doubts and emotions. she was caitlin clark, the girl who could have anyone, the girl who’d never settled down for anyone before. but as you looked into her eyes, you saw something you hadn’t seen before—something raw, almost desperate. it was as if she was afraid of losing you, and it made your heart ache.

over the next few weeks, caitlin continued to prove herself. she stopped going out with other people, spending most of her time with you, and making small but meaningful gestures that showed you how serious she was. she’d come over with your favorite coffee, show up after her games with a tired smile, and spend hours just talking with you, listening to your stories and sharing her own.

slowly, you found yourself letting her in, bit by bit. it was terrifying—every time you felt yourself falling, a part of you braced for impact, for the moment she’d realize she was ready to move on. but she never did. she stayed consistent, steady, proving over and over that she wasn’t just here for a good time.

one evening, as you were both curled up on your couch, she looked at you, her gaze softer than you’d ever seen. “i know you’re scared,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “i know i don’t have the best track record. but i’m here because i want you. i don’t want anyone else.”

you looked into her eyes, feeling the last of your walls crumble. “if you hurt me…”

she pulled you close, her arms wrapping around you protectively. “i won’t. i promise.” her voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

and in that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, caitlin clark could be the one worth taking a risk for.

[a-hazbin-reader]

A reader who loves singing? Does Alator let her sing his radio show?

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being petty, Alastor eating people, Vox being bullied

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor loves having an wife who can sing, any talent of yours he celebrates but singing especially is his favorite

Alastor is the type of husband to brag to a room of strangers about how good his wife sings

Even the other overlords are SICK of hearing about you and your beautiful, heavenly, mesmerizing voice

Except maybe Zestial and Rosie, the two of them actually genuinely interested in hearing you sing

Alastor is absolutely embarrassing to take anywhere that there is a live band/music

Mocks any other singer on stage just to get a reaction out of people so he can get you up there instead

He loves your voice best 👌

"They're a fine singer, sure, I'm only saying that I've heard better~"

Not him throwing you on stage

Is your biggest fan, making sure everyone claps and cheers for you because he will eat them if they don't

You're going to be blushing the entire time on stage because he's going to be giving you the most sinful look while you sing

Even if he doesn't necessarily like the song you're singing, Alastor is content to just admire your vocal talent

He won't let anybody try to make deals or contracts with you over your voice, usually just giving people a terrifying grin as he pulls you close

Vox has asked you a few times to perform for his show, but Alastor is proud to say that his wife has better taste than that

He also exaggerates the story of how you turned him down, claiming you kicked Vox in the groin and shattered his screen

"Alastor! That's not how that happened-"

"No? Funny, that's how I remember it~"

And he usually does something funny to get back at Vox for even trying

In Alastor's opinion, there are only two ways to enjoy your voice

Either in person or on his radio show

Putting you on TV would only dull your natural sparkle and talent, take away how special it is to really listen to you

That's his opinion anyway

Will ask you to sing at the hotel instead, but really what he's asking is if you'll sing for him

Because if you perform at the hotel then he's not missing a single moment of it, each performance from you is a gift

Will have brief intermissions in his broadcast so that you can sing to all his listeners

Treats you as the Lilith figure for his show, believing that your singing does have some power to it but also just so he can rub his woman in Lucifer's face

"Seems as if her majesty wasn't the only one with a pretty voice~ Aren't we all so lucky to have Y/N~?"

Alastor, maybe don't piss off Lucifer by shit talking the mother of his child?

He'll play piano as long as you promise to sing, the two of you would have the BEST DUETS

If you sing him a love song, then he can't resist singing along with you and pulling you in for a dance

"You should serenade me more often, my dear~ I think I deserve such a treat from you every now and then~"

"You ate like six people today, I think you should think again."

Little nose boop for your husband

Not him biting your finger playfully as you go to pull it away

"You two are so fucking sweet it's making me sick, I'm outta here."

Sorry Angel

Sometimes he hums along with you if you're singing while you're working, content to harmonize with you

Lowkey gets jealous when other people sing with you but gets irritated if someone who can't sing tries to sing with you

He has gone so far as to threaten them for singing badly and ruining your song

"If you're going to open your mouth, it would do you well to mind the shit that comes out of it."

"Alastor!!"

If you ask him for it, Alastor will pull all the strings he can to get you a place just for you to sing

It'll be his shrine to your voice

No Mimzy, you can't borrow Y/N for your own business

Only people with refined tastes such as his own will be allowed in, Alastor makes sure it's the proper clientele

Oh and Husk will be the bartender

"You MOTHERFUCKER!"

Alastor likes taking your voice to it's limits, likes hearing all the different sounds you can make

And that includes in bed

Even if you sing a wrong note or mess up, he'll call it an artistic choice and praise you

He still cuts in on just about every song you sing because he can't help himself, music and Y/N? It's Alastor bait

Plus, the two of you get to show off together, compliment each other, and make everyone green with envy

Y'all are just too fucking cute

It's a dream come true for Alastor to have a wife who can sing

Oops! This became another Wife!Reader one...sorry... 🫡

[jaysng]

buying you flowers | sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x florist!reader

genre: fluff

summary: Jake’s daily visits to your flower shop were impossible to ignore—especially when he brought you flowers. Maybe you didn’t mind; maybe you liked it more than you’d admit.

You had always loved flowers. The way their colors, textures, and delicate petals created effortless beauty. Your small flower shop, nestled in a cozy corner of the city, wasn’t just a business—it was your sanctuary, your calm amidst the chaos.

Today was one of those peaceful days where time seemed to slow down, the scent of fresh blooms hanging sweetly in the air as the golden light of late afternoon poured in through the windows.

Your fingers carefully wrapped a bouquet for a client, your focus steady on the task at hand. The bell above the door jingled softly, signaling a new arrival, but you didn’t look up right away.

“I’ll be with you in a second!” you called out, finishing the last delicate twist of ribbon before setting the bouquet down.

A familiar voice—warm, teasing—answered, “Take your time. I’m not in a rush.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips as you glanced up, already knowing who it was. Jake stood by the counter, leaning casually against it, his hair falling in soft waves over his forehead. His eyes held that mischievous glint that always made your heart do an involuntary little flip. He was here again, just like he had been nearly every afternoon for the past few months.

“You know,” you said, putting your hands on your hips and raising an eyebrow, “I’m starting to think you only come here to distract me from work.”

Jake’s lips quirked into a smirk, leaning in slightly. “Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? You’re way more interesting than any of these flowers.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, but you rolled your eyes in response, trying to play it cool. “If you’re not buying flowers, you’re not helping my business, Jake.”

“Oh, but who says I’m not buying flowers?” he countered smoothly, straightening up.

Before you could reply, Jake placed a bouquet on the counter—one you hadn’t noticed before. It was filled with your favorite flowers—lavender roses, baby’s breath, and dahlias, all arranged with the kind of care that made your heart swell. You blinked, caught off guard.

“Wait, did you… buy these?” you asked, glancing from the bouquet to him, utterly confused. After all, you were the florist here. What was he doing buying flowers?

Jake shrugged nonchalantly, his smile growing. “Why not? They reminded me of you.”

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Jake, I own a flower shop. You don’t need to buy flowers for me. I’m literally surrounded by them.”

“Yeah, but none of these are from me,” he said, his voice light, teasing, but with an underlying softness that made your heart skip. His gaze held yours, and for a brief second, the shop felt quieter, the space between the two of you buzzing with unspoken tension.

You let out a small laugh, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, reaching out to touch the petals. The flowers were perfect—fresh and vibrant, and knowing they were chosen for you, by him, made them feel even more special.

“Maybe,” he replied, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter again, his eyes never leaving yours. “But admit it, you like it.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you looked away, unable to hold back the grin spreading across your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sure you don’t.” Jake’s tone was playful, but there was something deeper there too. He loved seeing you like this—flustered, giggling, the walls you’d so carefully built starting to crumble every time he came around. He reached out and lightly flicked the end of your nose, making you swat his hand away.

“You’re so annoying,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“I try my best,” he said, his smirk softening into something more genuine.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the soft hum of the city outside barely audible against the quiet intimacy of the shop. You glanced back down at the bouquet, still feeling the warmth of his gesture. It wasn’t the first time Jake had done something like this—bringing you coffee in the mornings, showing up unannounced just to chat, slipping in compliments disguised as jokes. You weren’t blind to the hints, the way he looked at you, or the way he seemed to always be around. But neither of you had ever pushed past the comfortable, unspoken boundary you’d settled into.

Not yet, anyway.

You cleared your throat, needing to break the silence before your thoughts spiraled. “So… what am I supposed to do with these? Add them to my collection of ‘Jake’s unnecessary yet sweet gestures’?”

Jake chuckled. “I don’t know, maybe you could just appreciate them.”

“I do appreciate them,” you replied, feeling a little defensive but mostly just shy. You reached for the bouquet, bringing it closer to your face to inhale the soft, floral scent. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He smiled, his gaze softening. “Good.”

You placed the bouquet in a vase, letting your fingers trail over the petals as you arranged them on the counter. The simple act of him bringing you flowers—your flowers—made your heart flutter in a way that surprised you. It wasn’t just the flowers, though. It was Jake, and the way he was always there, making you feel seen in ways that no one else had.

“You know,” you started, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, “you’re going to have to stop doing this at some point. People are going to start asking why the florist keeps getting flowers.”

Jake laughed softly, leaning closer to you with that ever-present smirk. “Let them wonder.”

Your heart raced at the proximity, his presence both comforting and exhilarating. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But you love it.”

You felt the words hit you square in the chest, the easy, flirtatious rhythm between the two of you suddenly feeling heavier, more real. But before you could think of a response, Jake pushed himself off the counter, straightening up and flashing you that signature grin.

“Gotta go,” he said, backing toward the door. “But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” you replied, your voice a little breathless as you watched him leave.

The door jingled as he exited, leaving you alone with the bouquet and the lingering warmth of his presence. You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Jake was impossible. But maybe that’s exactly what you liked about him.

do not copy or repost my work. — @ jaysng

[signanothername]

Why do you like Killer?

*Cracks knuckles* get ready

I don’t like Killer, I fucking LOVE HIM

He’s my number 1 fave au sans and has been for a very long time

Now to be clear, I’m talking about canon Killer here, i have mixed feelings about some fanon interpretations, some are good and i genuinely love them, others not so much

That being said, let’s actually talk about why i love my beautiful amazing wonderful son <3333

(All art used in this post is by Killer’s creator: Rahafwabas)

The very first hook for me is his very concept, the mere idea of a sans basically agreeing to go on a killing spree after so many genocide runs is just *chef’s kiss*

Killer knew it was wrong, he knew he shouldn’t, yet he did

Killer doomed himself by his choice, he could’ve stayed as “sans” but he chose to accept Chara’s offer, yet his choice came to be after he saw no point in refusing anymore (important addition and a correction here)

The canon comics had Killer saying that he’s the way he is cause he gave up, he said “you won, you’re the reason I’m like this”, he’s been on so many genocide runs that he felt a little part of him die each run, only to give up and go on said killing spree

It’s interesting how the player is a big part of Killer’s story, cause whether Chara was involved or not, the player is the root cause of his suffering

But what i love the most is that regardless of his backstory or reasons, Killer’s actions led to their inevitable consequences, and it forever changed him

The biggest change? His very soul, it went from a normal monster soul to his signature target soul, infused with Determination, something that supposedly hurts monsters, it’s almost like his soul was infected with it, and you can see how it physically affects him with the black liquid that constantly comes out his eyes, nose and mouth, and even at times, that sludge is too much that he chokes on it

And the amusing yet tragic parallel? Killer aimed to “feel something new” by his genocide runs, only to end up not feeling anything at all, at least at his default stage 2

Which brings me to the concept of his soul’s stages

I love Killer’s stages so so much, it’s such a beautiful unique and wonderful concept

Killer’s individual stages are sooooo intriguing to me, it shows Killer in a different light each time depending on which stage he’s in, stage 1 is the closest he is to being “sans”, the closest to he used to be, he can feel emotions and is generally back to his more lazy bones attitude, as well as his ability to actually show sympathy, and feel the pain he’s always in, but what’s interesting is that regardless of the fact he’s the closest to his old self in this stage, it’s still so clear that Killer isn’t really “sans” anymore, that no matter what, he truly had changed in a way that can never be reversed, a point of no return, even when Color saves him, cause his new habits? His fears? His pain? His trauma? They can never be taken away, Killer has to live with the scars of what he experienced

Stage 2 is who he’d become, he can’t feel anything at this stage, emotions nonexistent, and his nonchalant behavior towards himself and others is most apparent here, a parallel I like to think of is that Killer’s inability to feel anything at all is almost like prolonged sensory deprivation, when you’re deprived of sensory input/ simulation for long periods, your brain needs compensate, and so it does its job, Killer’s soul prevents him from feeling so he resorts to other methods (usually very self destructive) to compensate for his lack of emotional capacity

I also really really love how that especially during stage 2, Killer isn’t trustworthy, cause in stage 1 you can actually trust him to an extent, in stage 2 Killer’s actions, behaviors and mindset are completely unpredictable, but not because he’s random, cause he’s actually extremely calculated, yet regardless, his carelessness when it comes to his own life and other people’s lives is dialed to an 11 here, so he could either choose to kill/attack or simply stay and listen

we even get an actual in depth look at how Killer’s mind works in one of the canon comics, in which Killer contemplates whether to attack Dream or not as he listens to his own stages in his head, one of which tells him to Kill Dream, while the other tells Killer to talk to Dream first

How Killer comes to a final decision on whether he attacks or not is something I believe his calculated mind makes depending on the situation and the pros/cons of what act he chooses, Killer is pretty smart, he knows when to let his trigger happy self out and when to settle down

Stage 3 or the “crazy stage” is the stage in which he’d attack anyone in his way whether friend or foe, we unfortunately don’t have much canon info regarding this stage, but that ain’t gonna stop me from analyzing the shit outta it (and talk about how i perceive it)

I like to think of this stage as the combination between stage 1 and 2, yet it’s almost like his soul can’t truly decide on which stage to settle on and by extension founding stage 3 as a separate stage by itself, Killer becomes extremely unstable at this stage, his soul moves rapidly and it’s obvious he’s in pain cause of it, whether that pain is just emotional or both physical and emotional isn’t really clear, yet i’d like to believe it’s both, and i feel like Killer’s capacity to attack anyone at this stage is related to that pain, and something I really love to believe is that Killer can’t calm down enough to settle back to stage 1 or 2 unless he either wears himself out by fighting someone, or he’s left alone to his own demons long enough to pull himself together, if he were to be forcefully restrained during this stage, it would only serve to make it worse and prolong the time he stays that way (cough something i may or may not have made a quick comic about but never shared as always vjvjvjj)

Not to mention, one of the canonical responses Killer gives when asked if he’s ok at stage 3 seems to make Killer alternate between answers he wants to give between saying he’s “fine” and “i don’t know” which makes sense, Killer isn’t stable at all, it’s almost like his stage 1 self and stage 2 self are fighting over who gets to talk (stage 2 seems more dominant)

Yet the fact Killer is able to answer and comprehend his surroundings enough at this stage is very intriguing to me, cause it shows how much Killer is able to handle/endure (which is A LOT cause damn) and not only that, but it also gives us a very clear difference between this stage and stage 4

As for stage 4?? Woooh boi, it’s the stage I like to call “plunging into darkness”

We also don’t have much canon info about this stage, but one of the things i find interesting is the fact Killer deliberately keeps it a secret from everyone, when he tells Color about his stages, he only tells him up to stage 3, never bringing up stage 4, only for Chara to sneer at Killer that he shouldn’t keep it from his new BFF

It’s obvious Killer himself is very uncomfortable with the subject of stage 4, it’s apparent that it’s a stage that he rarely gets to, but it still bothers him enough to not want to even mention it, which makes sense, cause the comic we had of stage 4 shows that Killer gets to that stage when he’s reminded of all the murders he committed, and unsurprisingly, when he’s reminded of his brother, as what triggered this stage is actually a memory of Papyrus telling Sans to “see a puzzle”, only to be followed by memories of screams of anger, fear, and hatred of those he killed immediately afterwards, stage 4 is heavily related to his trauma

Not to mention it’s clear that when Killer gets to stage 4 he blacks out, he’s completely unaware of anything he does during this stage, and is only left to deal with the aftermath when he gets back to his senses, the fact it’s also a stage that seems to be “getting worse” is something that Killer definitely seems to hate

It sometimes makes me think whether Killer had gotten into trouble cause he killed someone Nightmare wanted alive while at this stage, cause with how he keeps it a secret, I’d assume Nightmare would be unaware of it for a while (comic idea perhaps >:) )

But y’know what’s better than talking about the stages?? Talking about Killer’s personality, behaviors and trauma

Killer can’t distinguish between what’s real or not, and it’s obvious he sometimes sees the world in the third person, as in he’s not completely there at times, not to mention the amount of voices he hears in his head, from his stages talking to him to hallucinations of Chara, Frisk and Papyrus, and oooh boi does he hate these hallucinations, the past obviously haunts Killer and it’s something he tries running away from constantly, yet he can never truly run from it when it follows him everywhere

Killer has a smile on his face most the time, but his attitude changes especially when Chara is mentioned, or when he’s reminded of his past in any way, he literally avoids food that reminds of his past life as “sans”, he freezes up at certain phrases such as “best friend” (something i also made a comic about that i never shared chchhchc)

He just absolutely hates to be reminded of the person he used to be, of all the things he used to have, cause in truth? They were all taken away from him by his own hands, only to be then forced to work under Nightmare, who only ensures that he never finds peace of mind

And the sad part? Killer let’s all those things hurt him, he lets Nightmare have his way with him, he lets Chara torment him, cause he thinks he deserves it, and most importantly, he deluded himself into believing that this is what he wants because it’s what everyone else wants, because it’s what the player wants

Killer even sometimes tries to force himself not to feel anything, cause come on, since when does he feel anything at all?

Killer, to put it bluntly, hates himself, and he thinks that his suffering is the Karma of what he’s done, and even at one point, he was going to erase himself out of existence cause he believed that’s what he deserved, as in Killer thought of himself as unworthy when it comes to Papyrus, that his brother doesn’t need him, that his brother is better off without him, hell he even tells Color that he needs to kill him if he ever reaches stage 3, it’s an obvious “ i want someone to put me outta my misery” attitude

Killer feels hopeless, and so he lets himself suffer thinking he can’t ever find peace or hope again

Yet the interesting part? You’d never know that Killer hates himself unless you’re a being of emotions (Nightmare and Dream) or someone who’s perceptive enough to notice Killer’s self-loathing like Color, that’s how good of an actor Killer can be, you’d think he’s a cold emotionaless killer but the truth only shines to those who actually can see through his act

Killer just has that amazing character depth and his story is genuinely so unique and beautiful, cause you in his story you can find details of other details within the details vhvhvjvj

All that? Mixed with really adorable little things like his love for cats, his silly attitude, his nonchalance with Nightmare, his capacity to be social with whoever, and his friendship with color? That is why I love Killer Anon <33333

[decayofroses]

Succession war Kurapika

I've completed all the available HXH chapters (400), and there were a few scenes that really stood out to me with Kurapika.

I love and adore him as the main character of this arc, and we've seen his perspective and his downward spiral in yorknew.

Seeing him now, and how far he's strayed definitely makes his POV the most interesting to me.

I wanted to point out/ talk about some of the panels throughout the SW.

This panel especially stood out to me, and it's one of my favorites out of the entire manga. He mentions how every time he got a part of his brethren back- he lost something. While I think it could be a physical presence, I think he's talking about himself here more than anything.

Each time he's threatened, coaxed, paid people off, he's lost a part of himself.

Kurapika strays away from his relationships, while to protect them- and also what I believe is out of guilt (and the other which I'll go over in a moment). I think he knows what he's doing to himself, and I don't think he can handle facing it head on, or risking harming his friends physically or emotionally.

And again, when Kurapika agrees to join the zodiacs.

Straying even from Leorio, it's clear he'd rather face things alone, and without distractions. Which is exactly what they are, distractions.

His quest to collect his family is coming to an end. "Where would I go?" I think he means this in a literal, and metaphorical sense. Where will he end up by the end of this? Which path will he go down? He has no place to call home, and he truly believes he has nothing left, and nobody to welcome him back.

Despite having allies, and who quickly became close friends.

He didn't realize it at the time, but shortly after teaming up with Bill and others- he understood the importance of allies.

"Things didn't proceed so simply", things weren't as simple as gathering pawns, and walking the path of revenge alone.

He formed genuine bonds that mean more to him than simple pawns for his quest. He's now torn between his isolation, and his care for his friends. Despite this, he will continue to punish himself and walk this path alone- it's much harder than he'd originally intended. Pushing his friends away to complete his goal, because it serves as his only purpose in his eyes. Even if he knows it's wrong.

Oito asks if spying on the 4th prince is for his convenience. Kurapika takes a moment, and tells her this is simply a strategic choice. I don't think he's lying, but I do think he wants to protect her, and wobble- while still keeping contact with the Prince.

At the moment, he will prioritize protecting the two of them. I think it happens to align with his goal, but it isn't necessarily for his convenience.

The reason I bring this up is to highlight that despite the fact he wants to push his friends away, and work towards his goal- he won't risk the lives of others.

He says he will repeat it as many times as needed, that they are there to protect her and the prince. To trust him.

He tries to be someone who will risk everything for the sake of recovering the eyes, but deep down he can't. Much like how he cannot truly abandon his friends, only isolate himself.

Kurapika is loyal, and unwilling to sacrifice others for the sake of his goal. He forced a stalemate, and took advantage of his nen knowledge to level out the playing field. A stalemate buys them more time, making it so it won't be as easy for experienced nen users to take advantage of non nen users.

It was a brilliant idea that may be risky, but also offers protection for him, and the queen.

During this conversation with Mizaistom, it's clear that Kurapika has not abandoned all of his morals, he wants to avoid killing the Prince despite having the remaining eyes. He would rather try other methods, and is opposed to killing.

Mizaistom and Kurapikas dynamic is one of my favorites, but that's for another time.

That's all I have to talk about, for now. I wanted to go over my favorite panels, and his relationships in the succession war.

[yuyuzi-ling]

First post here, and I have read multiple platonic yandere batfam with a neglected reader fanfics so I decided to come up with my own plan.

I did not read any of the DC comics and have only relied on batfam fics, so don't have high expectations because this may not follow the canon plot. Characters may be OOC.

Relationships & Some Plot

I decided to make the reader the child of Selina and Bruce. Their ages are complicated so I just made Bruce's age 26 and Selina's 25 when they had their child. Dick was nine at the time that reader was born.

At first, Bruce was excited having a child he can finally raise and watch their firsts. So he tried his best to be there for her. But as time passed, he realized that raising a child from birth is difficult because of his duties. He was scared of what kind of person reader will become if they're raised by him. Especially with how interested reader was with heroes and vigilantes as they grew up. So he began to distance himself from reader until he finally became cold to them.

Just like his adoptive father, Dick was ecstatic to have a little sibling. He doted on them for their early years but eventually got busy. The two had nothing to share with their interests and hobbies. He's a vigilante, reader was a civilian. He may never say it, but he got bored and so tried to make up excuses to leave the reader in order to do something he likes with someone he likes.

Selina absolutely adored their child. She always supported them and might have spoiled them when they were a baby. Unlike the other two, she didn't change her views. She was even disappointed at the two for ever letting her child down. Unluckily, she wasn't able to take her child with her because she knows how safe the Manor is and doesn't want her child to become fatherless.

9 years passed and Bruce brought Jason to the Manor.

Being alone most of the time aside from when Selina visits and when Alfred wasn't busy taking care of everyone, reader expected Jason to end up like their brother and father.

As expected, Jason was delighted upon meeting reader and even joined in their games. Unexpectedly though, he continued to stay with reader. Jason, who after quite some time, finally earned reader's trust and found out why Bruce and Dick was acting indifferent towards reader.

He was pissed. But reader told him not to do anything. Reader at that time, believed that they were only doing it to protect her and that city. After some convincing, Jason finally stopped his plan to ruin their lives. But he still held annoyance.

They got even closer to the point that Alfred noted that the two acted more like siblings than anyone in the Manor does. Selina was also thankful to Jason for being there for her child.

Years later, when reader was 9 and Jason was 15, Jason died. No one bothered telling reader about it. Bruce didn't because he was too busy mourning. Dick didn't because he was away. Alfred couldn't because he didn't want to see reader in their father's mourning state. Reader only found out when Selina arrived. Selina was enraged about it and fought with Bruce for an entire day. Reader stayed up in their room crying while it happened with only Alfred to comfort them.

Cass arrived. Reader felt like it was a fresh start. Out of everyone in the manor including Alfred, Reader only talked to Cass. They liked her silent company. Cass who understood the tension from both sides( reader & batfam ), didn't know how to approach the situation and so decided to give silent comfort to Reader.

And then Tim arrived. He arrived under the disguise of being a close relative of Alfred who was a victim from a villain attack and so had to stay in the manor. Reader expected nothing. Reader never made the attempt to talk to him or notice him unless he reached out first. Tim would make attempts to talk to reader and started to genuinely care for them. Reader was also slowly starting to care for him. But it was all ruined when reader saw him using Jason's vigilante identity.

Reader got furious, and saw it as Tim stealing Jason's place. They stayed in their room for days and refused to come out. They yelled at anyone who tried to talk to them aside from their mother. But even then, they still refused to come out.

It eventually got to the point where Dick had to come in through the window and half-drag Reader out of the room with Tim. Reader argued with Dick and Bruce with Selina backing Reader up. Cass silently and solemnly watched everything unfold, not having the courage to do anything. Reader told them how shameless they were for replacing their deceased brother, for Bruce not being content of having two Robins and instead got another one, and how Tim will also die using that suit.

Loosing his patience, Bruce yelled back at reader, telling them he's going to send them away to a boarding school for their behavior. Everyone was stunned. Selina started yelling at him while Tim and Dick looked at each other uncertainly. Reader glared at everyone before storming back to their room.

Bruce and Selina continued to argue. With Bruce defending his statement, saying how Reader will be safe away from them and will also heal reader's attitude. Selina thought otherwise and called him heartless for even daring to come up with such an idea. Bruce stood by his word and refused to listen to Selina so she stormed to her child's room. She told reader to pack their stuffs so they could leave the manor, telling them that they'll live with her from now on.

Surprisingly though, Reader disagreed. Reader told her that they'll attend the boarding school because they need time away from everyone. Selina was shocked and a bit hurt but agreed to their decision.

When the day arrived that it was time for Reader to leave, Bruce offered to personally take them to the boarding school. Reader ignored him like how they've been ignoring everyone ever since the fight. At the private airport, while Bruce was handling security affairs, Reader; who was left alone at the waiting area got kidnapped by three airport staffs who were actually people of Lexcorp in disguise.

Aaaand that's where I stop it. I might end up spoiling the whole plot. I don't know if I'll turn this into a real fanfiction. I have a plan on doing that but not at the moment because I'm currently busy. What do you think?

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Part 7

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

7/10

Note: Old friends I bet you never saw this day coming.

W/c:3.95

Rating: M (Minors DNI; angst, fluff, smut, heartbreak, heart fix? the best ending for them coming soon)Keep reading

As you pull into the driveway of your home, you give two quick honks before shifting the car into park. Anticipation bubbles inside you as you look forward to taking Ryan to his baseball practice. Undoing your seat belt, you glance at your watch to check the time, only to realize you're running late. A sigh escapes your lips, accompanied by a roll of your eyes at your oversight. Just as you're about to step out of the car, the front door swings open, drawing your attention away from your tardiness.

Ryan bounds down the steps, his red and white Raptors uniform proudly displaying his school's name. His baseball bag hangs heavily from his back as he rushes towards you. With a burst of energy, he throws himself into your arms, squeezing your midsection tightly and burying his head against your belly.

"Hi Mommy, I'm so excited you're here," he mumbles into you, his voice muffled by your shirt.

"Hi, baby, I'm thrilled to be here too," You reply, wrapping your arms around him and ruffling the curls on his head. "You need a haircut," you tease gently as you glance down at his tousled hair.

"Never," he declares with a shake of his head, a playful glint in his eyes.

“There’s no convincing him, I’ve tried,” Natasha says as she steps onto the front porch, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. You look up to acknowledge her, only to do a double take. Natasha looks incredible. She's sporting a fitted white tee that accentuates her toned figure, paired with denim shorts that hug her curves perfectly. Sunglasses perch on top of her head, and a pair of Converse shoes complete the effortlessly chic ensemble. It's not just about the outfit itself, but how she wears it with confidence.

“Is that what you wear to Little League?” you ask, tilting your head as you take in her casual yet stylish attire.

Natasha chuckles softly, a playful glint dancing in her eyes. “Well, I figured I’d give the other parents something to talk about,” she replies with a smirk. 

“Interesting,” You smile back. 

“Mommy, do you like my outfit?” Emma asks proudly as she stands beside Natasha. She's wearing a tart orange top paired with biker shorts, and her feet are adorned with the sparkliest shoes you've ever seen.

You glance over at Emma, a smile spreading across your face at her vibrant ensemble. "Wow, Emma, you look amazing!" you exclaim, genuinely impressed by her bold fashion choice. "Those shoes are dazzling."

Natasha beams with pride at Emma's excitement. "You look fantastic, sweetheart," she adds, reaching out to tousle Emma's hair affectionately.

Emma happily bounces down the steps one by one, her infectious giggles filling the air. Natasha's heart skips a beat as she watches her, a mini heart attack looming with each skipped step, especially when Emma forgoes holding onto the railing altogether.

You, still holding onto Ryan, quickly adjust, freeing one of your arms to reach out and steady Emma as she descends. With a reassuring smile, you wrap your arm around her, providing the support she needs to navigate the steps safely. Natasha breathes a sigh of relief as she sees you taking care of Emma, her worry dissipating as she watches the scene unfold.

“Okay, let’s all make it to the practice in one piece,” You remind Emma as she smiles up at you. “Do you have everything?” You ask Ryan and he nods. 

“Yep, all set,” He pats his backpack. 

“Mommy, are we going to get pizza after this game?” Emma questions eagerly. “My tummy has been rumbling for like an hour now. I think we have to get food.” 

You chuckle at Emma's enthusiasm, nodding in agreement. "Pizza sounds like a great idea, sweetheart," you reply, glancing over at Natasha for confirmation.

Natasha smiles warmly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Pizza it is," she confirms. "But first, let's cheer on Ryan at his practice and game, okay?"

Emma nods eagerly, her excitement evident as she bounces on the balls of her feet. "Okay, Mommy! Go, Ryan!" she cheers, already looking forward to the post-game pizza feast.

“Race to the car?” Ryan suggests, and Emma takes off before she even agrees to it.

You watch the two of them run towards your car, their laughter filling the air as they argue over who gets the front seat before you let out a soft sigh.

“Does the bickering ever stop?” you mumble more to yourself than anyone else.

“I don’t think it does,” Natasha laughs, joining you by your side. She wraps her arms around your body, pulling you close. Despite the recent tension with Yelena, you had hoped things wouldn’t change between the two of you."Hey you," She greets, her voice filled with warmth and affection as she looks into your eyes.

You turn to face Natasha, a small smile playing on your lips as you meet her gaze. Despite the lingering worries, being in her embrace brings a sense of comfort and reassurance.

"Hey back," you reply softly, leaning into her touch. "I'm glad you're here." You lean in for a quick kiss, savoring the taste of cherry lip gloss on her lips. “Ready to go?”

“I am,” Natasha nods. “Though earlier Ryan told me that he wished it was just the two of you going.”

“He did?” You glance over to the kids who are now both seated in the backseat.

“Mhmm,” Natasha hums. “It might be for the better.”

You ponder her words for a moment, considering Ryan's perspective. "Maybe he just wants some one-on-one time," you muse, glancing back at the kids with a thoughtful expression. "We can make that happen sometime soon." The idea of spending quality time with Ryan fills you with warmth, knowing that nurturing your bond with him is just as important as maintaining your relationship with Natasha.

"Come on, Mommy, I'm going to be late!" Ryan calls out, rolling down his window to get your attention.

You smile at his urgency, realizing that you've been caught up in the moment. "I'm coming, Ryan!" you call back, giving Natasha a quick squeeze before making your way to the driver's seat. As you start the car, you can't help but feel grateful for these little moments with your family, cherishing the bonds that hold you all together. You’re so glad you get to experience this again. 

*****************

You stand along the fence, the sweltering heat causing you to fan yourself off as you watch the game unfold in front of you. Somewhere behind you, Natasha sits with Emma, sharing popcorn and a few cold water bottles between them. Despite the discomfort of the heat, your eyes remain fixed on the field, eagerly awaiting Ryan's turn to bat. Each pitch and play holds your attention, anticipation building with each moment as you wait for the perfect opportunity to cheer on your son.

“Did we miss anything?” Kerry Cook asks as she settles into her spot next to Natasha. Her husband, Doug, follows behind, carrying their eight-month-old in a carrier on his body.

“No, not yet. It’s been slow,” Natasha replies, briefly tearing her gaze away from the field to acknowledge Kerry and Doug. Despite the conversation, her attention remains fixed on the game, her anticipation growing as she realizes Ryan will be up to bat soon.

“Good, Miles had a case of anxiety that we had to get together,” Kerry informs her, settling into her seat beside Natasha. “Is that y/n?” Kerry spots you only a few feet away.

“In the flesh,” Natasha nods, her attention still partly focused on the game.

“Wow, it’s been a while,” Kerry continues, observing you. “She looks toned.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Natasha replies nonchalantly, though her tone suggests otherwise.

“I’m sure,” Kerry responds, not sounding entirely convinced by Natasha's casual response. “It’s nice seeing her here. Well, even seeing you two in the same place is a miracle.” 

Natasha offers a small smile, sensing Kerry's curiosity lingering beneath the surface. "Yeah, we've been trying some things out," she says casually, subtly hinting at the efforts she and you have been making to reconcile and mend your relationship. Despite her attempt to keep it low-key, there's a hint of pride in her voice, a quiet acknowledgment of the progress you two have been making together.

"Congratulations," Kerry almost beams with pride, her genuine happiness for you shining through. If there was one person on your team rooting for you, it was her. 

Natasha enjoys Kerry and Doug’s company as they continue to watch the game. Occasionally, Emma will reach into the popcorn container to pop a few kernels into her mouth, and Natasha leans over for easier access. She could see you out of the corner of her eye, so engrossed in Ryan and his plays on the field. She'd missed this more than she could convey.

But as Ryan makes a good play that has them all cheering, Natasha's attention snaps back to the game. Ryan steps up to the plate, his determination is evident in the set of his shoulders, the pitcher winds up and delivers the ball with all his might. Ryan swings, the crack of the bat echoing across the field as the ball sails through the air.

It's not a perfect hit, but it's a solid one. The ball bounces just beyond the infield, rolling towards the outfield as Ryan takes off running. The fielders scramble to retrieve it, but Ryan's speed is impressive for his age. He rounds first base with determination, his eyes fixed on second as he picks up speed.

The outfielder scoops up the ball and throws it toward second base, but Ryan is already there, sliding into the base with a burst of energy. The umpire's call is clear: safe!

Cheers erupt from the sidelines as Ryan jumps to his feet, a triumphant grin on his face. His eyes scan the bleachers to find you standing directly in front of him. You offer a thumbs up to which he reciprocates. Gosh, you love that kid. 

“Which one is yours?” A soft voice interrupts your focus on the game, drawing your attention to the woman beside you. She exudes a soccer mom vibe, with a warm smile and an air of familiarity that instantly puts you at ease. Her features resemble those of Gina Davis—sharp cheekbones framing a heart-shaped face, with expressive hazel eyes that seem to shimmer with genuine interest. Her hair is styled in a casual yet chic bob, framing her face in loose waves that bounce with every movement.

Despite her friendly demeanor, there's something about her proximity to you that sets off a faint alarm in your mind. She stands a little too close for comfort, her body language subtly leaning towards you in a way that feels almost intrusive. It's enough to make Natasha, who's been watching discreetly from a distance, take notice.

You gesture towards Ryan. “The kid with the reddish curly hair who's currently goofing off with Miles”

"Oh, yeah, Ryan, he's pretty good," the woman compliments, her gaze shifting towards him with a nod of approval. “He’s cute. Clearly takes after you.”

“I don’t know about that,” You blush slightly. When she turns her attention back to you, you inquire about her own child. "You?"

"Oh, my son is Teddy over there with the buzz cut," she replies, pointing towards a boy on the field.

“He’s solid,” You nod. 

"I'd like to think so," she shrugs casually. "I'm Vera. What's your name?"

"Y/n," you reply, shaking her hand.

"Oh, you're the ex," Vera whistles, her tone carrying a hint of surprise.

“That would be me,” You tip your hat and offer a smile. “Has there been a lot of talk?”

Vera chuckles lightly, a knowing glint in her eye. "Oh, you know how it is," she replies vaguely, her tone suggesting that she's privy to some of the gossip but doesn't feel the need to delve into details.

"Unfortunately I do," you say with a rueful smile, acknowledging the sometimes intrusive nature of parents nearby. 

Vera, ever the conversationalist, leans in a bit closer, a curious glint in her eyes. "So, how have you been holding up?" she asks, her tone filled with genuine interest as she tries to strike up a conversation. “Divorce can’t be easy. Trust me I’d know.”

You offer a small, appreciative nod, grateful for Vera's attempt to connect. "It's been... challenging," you admit, your voice softening with a hint of vulnerability. "But I'm taking it one day at a time." Despite the difficulties, you find solace in the genuine concern of those around you, including Vera's compassionate gesture.

“Well, if you ever need a shoulder to lean on or an ear to listen,” Vera offers, extending a comforting gesture.

“She won’t,” Natasha interrupts, her voice firm and protective, asserting her presence in the conversation.

Vera's expression falters momentarily at Natasha's interruption, her offer of support met with an unexpected rebuttal. She glances between you and Natasha, sensing an underlying tension in the exchange.

Undeterred, Vera quickly recovers with a gentle smile. "Of course," she replies diplomatically. “Well, nice meeting you.” Vera excuses herself to go sit on the other side of the bleachers. 

“You sure scared her,” You chuckled, breaking the tension with a light-hearted comment.

“Wasn’t my intention,” Natasha smirks, her expression softening as she meets your gaze. “He’s so happy you’re here,” she adds, tilting her chin towards Ryan, who keeps glancing over to you, almost as if to check that you’re still here. There's a fondness in Natasha's voice as she observes Ryan's behavior, a silent acknowledgment of the bond between mother and child.

“I’m happy to be here,” You wrap your arm around her waist to pull her closer to you. “We can throw some balls before bed and talk. How’s he been doing? With his anger and everything?” 

Natasha leans into your embrace, appreciating the comfort of your touch. "He's been better," she admits. "We've been working on it, but it's been a struggle. He's still adjusting, I think." 

There's a hint of vulnerability in her tone as she opens up about the challenges of parenting. Ryan especially in the past months has regressed and resorted to anger in the form of violence, mostly toward Natasha. She had reluctantly admitted this after you caught the tail end of her scolding when he’d thrown a video game remote at her head. You offer her a reassuring squeeze, silently conveying your support.

“I feel guilty,” You admit. “I know this isn’t the place for us to get into it but… I do.” You take a deep breath. “I’ve left you all in the dark about everything. It hasn’t been fair to them.” 

Natasha listens quietly, her expression softening as she hears your admission. She reaches out to gently cup your cheek, offering a reassuring touch. "I understand," she says softly, her voice laced with empathy. "It's been tough for all of us." She doesn't excuse your actions, but she also doesn't want to make you feel guiltier.

It’s Ryan’s turn again. Time to pay attention. 

*******************

Chuck E Cheese’s was a great place to go after a baseball game, especially for kids like Ryan and Emma who were bursting with energy after spending hours on the field. As you walked through the doors, the lively sounds of arcade games and children's laughter filled the air, causing you to instantly become overstimulated. 

Ryan's eyes widened with excitement as he caught sight of the colorful carousel and the flashing lights of the arcade games. Emma's face lit up as she spotted the towering play structure, complete with slides, tunnels, and ball pits.

You led the way to a table, the scent of freshly baked pizza wafting through the air and making your stomach growl in anticipation. The kids eagerly clamored around the table, their chatter filling the space as they debated which games to play first and which prizes to aim for.

As the kids dashed off to explore the arcade, you and Natasha settled into a booth, enjoying a moment of relative calm amidst the bustling atmosphere of Chuck E Cheese’s. You'd paid for 100 coins each, not much all things considered, but worth it for a fun time on a school night.

Sitting across from Natasha, you appreciated the chance to have a conversation without interruptions, even if it was just for a little while. The occasional shriek or burst of laughter from the arcade area served as background noise, a reminder of the chaos surrounding you.

“So, have you given any thought to the couple’s assignment thing?” You asked, breaking the brief lull in conversation. “Something for us to do together that doesn’t involve a bedroom.”

Natasha leaned back against the booth, her gaze thoughtful as she considered your question. "I have," she replied, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I was thinking maybe we could try cooking together. We used to enjoy trying out new recipes, remember?"

The memory brought warmth to your heart, a reminder of simpler times when it was just the two of you, experimenting in the kitchen and sharing meals. "That sounds perfect," you agree, returning her smile. "It'll be nice to spend some quality time together."

It was a date. 

"I remember those times in the kitchen," You began, your voice soft with emotion. "They were some of the best moments we shared." 

“That kitchen has seen a lot,” Natasha nods, grabbing a slice of pizza to bite into. 

“It has certainly seen better days,” You agree. “I’m really glad you didn’t sell the house.” 

Natasha's expression softens at your words. "Me too," she murmurs, setting down her slice of pizza to give you her full attention. "It wouldn't have felt right, you know? Selling the house felt like giving up on everything we built together."

You nod in agreement, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Despite all the challenges we've faced, this place still feels like home."

"It always will," Natasha replies, her voice filled with conviction. “There’s something else on the assignment list that would be cool. Do you want to discuss it now?”

“Here?” You look around. 

“Sure, why not,” Natasha shrugs. “It’s a simple question. What is something you’re glad you’ll never have to do again?” 

“Hmm, probably childbirth,” You answer honestly. You wipe your mouth with the corner of a napkin before setting it aside. 

Natasha's brows furrow slightly in confusion at your response. "Childbirth? Really?" she asks, her tone laced with curiosity. "I mean, I know it's not a walk in the park, but I thought you handled it like a champ. You never really talked about it being that bad."

You hesitate for a moment, your gaze drifting away from Natasha's as you search for the right words. "Yeah, well, I guess I just... tried to focus on the positive aspects," you reply vaguely, a faint hint of discomfort creeping into your voice. "But, um, the aftermath wasn't exactly a walk in the park either."

Natasha's expression softens with concern as she picks up on your hesitation. "What do you mean?" she prompts gently, reaching across the table to place her hand over yours. "Is everything okay?"

You take a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you prepare to share something you've kept buried for far too long. "I... I think I had postpartum depression," you admit your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... something I never really talked about."

Natasha's eyes widen slightly in surprise, her hand squeezing yours reassuringly. "I had no idea," she murmurs, her voice filled with empathy. 

“Yeah, I hid it well I guess,” You frown. “You were away on a mission when it got really bad. I had to take Ryan to the compound. I left him there for a few days. He just wouldn’t stop crying and I just needed time and…”

Natasha's expression softens further as she listens, her heart breaking at the thought of you struggling alone with Ryan. "I'm so sorry," she says, her voice filled with genuine remorse. "I wish I had been there for you."

You shake your head, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It's not your fault," you reply, your voice tinged with sadness. "I didn't want to burden you with it, especially when you were away on a mission. I thought I could handle it on my own."

"You never have to handle things alone, y/n," she says softly, her eyes locked on yours. 

“Somehow I keep forgetting that,” You shrug. 

Natasha doesn’t want to ask the next question. She’s almost afraid of the answer you’re going to give. “So what were the positives for you? In therapy, you mentioned that things got rougher when we had kids. I understand PPD can exacerbate that.”

You pause, contemplating Natasha's question for a moment before answering. "Honestly," you begin, your voice low and hesitant, "for a long time, I couldn't see any positives. It felt like everything was just... too much. The sleepless nights, the constant crying, the feeling of being overwhelmed... I couldn't see past it."

Natasha's hand finds yours across the table, offering silent support as you continue. "But... therapy helped," you admit, a flicker of hope in your eyes. "Talking about it, understanding it... It helped me realize that there were moments of joy.  Like... the first time Ryan smiled, or when Emma said her first word. Little things that reminded me why I wanted to be a parent in the first place."

You glance up at Natasha, searching her eyes for understanding. "It's still hard," you confess, your voice raw with emotion. "But I'm learning to find the positives, even on the toughest days."

“Thank you for telling me this,” Natasha says. 

“I would have preferred us to talk about it over dinner but I guess Chuck E. Cheese’s was as good as any,” You try to lighten the mood. “Honestly, I didn’t think you would take this information so lightly. I know you have this view of pregnancy and everything and back then I didn’t want to change that for you.”

Natasha listens intently, her expression softening as you speak. "I'm sorry," she says sincerely."I never realized you were going through all of that alone. I wish you had felt comfortable talking to me about it."

You give her a small smile, appreciating her understanding. "It's okay," you reassure her. "I didn't even fully understand it myself at the time. But I'm glad we're talking about it now."

Natasha nods, her eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and gratitude. "Me too," she agrees softly. 

“But you never answered the question yourself,” You pointed out. Natasha raises a brow. “What’s something you’re glad you never have to do again?”

Natasha's expression turns thoughtful as she considers your question. After a moment of contemplation, she speaks, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I think," she begins slowly, "I'm glad we never have to go back to feeling distant from each other. Those times when we were both struggling individually and couldn't find our way back to each other... I'm glad that's behind us now. I never want to feel that kind of disconnection again."

You nod in understanding, feeling a sense of relief at her honesty. "Me neither," you admit. "I think we've both learned a lot from those moments, and we're stronger because of it."

Natasha smiles softly, her eyes meeting yours with warmth. "Absolutely," she agrees. 

This time you truly believed it. 

---> next part

[whateveriwant]

hi!! i really love your 141 headcannons, can i ask for the 141 with a exotic animal vet/zoologist s/o? tysm!!! 🤍

Soap

He thinks you are the coolest person to walk the planet

Seriously, with the way he looks at you sometimes, you swear it's like you're a superhero or something

Any chance he can get to brag about you to his friends, family, or even total strangers, he's taking it. And when he does start to talk, they better settle in for a while because he is not shutting up anytime soon

One of his favorite things about you is what he calls your “mental encyclopedia” of animals. It can be very helpful to refer to, especially when he's trying to describe exotic animals he's come across in the field

“What d’ye call those awkward, pine cone lookin’ lads?” he asks from the room over. You take a moment to think before shouting out your answer, a second later hearing the keys of his laptop clicking as he confirms for himself. “Pangolin! Yes! Tha’s the wee devil who stole my socks!”

Ghost

While he doesn't like to talk shop when it comes to his job, he could spend hours listening to you talk about yours

It's become a staple of your routine where every time you come home from work, he's there asking how your day went (and, get this, he's genuinely interested in your response)

Because he's usually pretty silent as he listens to you recount your day, sometimes you think he isn't even paying attention to you at all

But of course, just as soon as you begin to doubt him, he'll hit you with something that shows how attentive he's been all along

“How's Mona fairin’ by the way?” he asks one night in the middle of making dinner. Mona? The red panda who had a cough the other month? She's all well again, you tell him, surprised he remembered that. If he notices your shock, he doesn't say anything; he just gives a satisfied hum in response and continues cooking

Price

Because his job is so integral to who he is as a person, he loves having a partner who's also just as dedicated to their work as he is

He'll stop at nothing when it comes to supporting you and your dreams, a big one he knows is to travel the world one day. He plans to make that dream come true once he retires, but until then, he'll have to settle for bringing the world to you

Thus, every time he comes home from deployment, he's always bearing souvenirs ��� many of them featuring animals puns because he knows they're your favorite

It started as a joke at first when he saw a silly magnet he just couldn't pass up. But now it's become a proper tradition between you two, so every time he leaves, you're expecting to add another item to your collection once he returns

His favorite is a toss up between your ‘Toucan do it!’ inspirational poster and your matching ‘I'm with jackass’ / ‘I'm jackass’ donkey shirts

Gaz

He loves animals just as much as you do (if not more, honestly)

Literally on your first date together when you told him what you do for a living, he was about ready to drop down on one knee and pop the question right then and there

If it's a zoo or perhaps a sanctuary that you work at, you best believe you'll find him visiting you at every available opportunity he has

He sees you forgot your lunch at home? Oh no, he better bring it to you before you starve! He's running a few errands in the neighborhood? Hmm, might as well stop by and see his boo at work! (and, well, since he's already here, he might as well check out the new reptile exhibit you've been mentioning too)

Honestly, with just how frequently you're always bumping into him at work, you're convinced that most of the time he's not even there to see you