#even better when they both help each other

[tizeline]

TSAU!Donnie's Ninpō Explained!

The first ability Donnie unlocks is the ability to see mystic energy! Objects or people with with mystic energy has this colourful glowing aura you could call it, the more mystic energy the more brightly is glows. For example - Mikey already has a very bright aura naturally, which becomes even brighter when he is actively using magic! ..... All of this is to say, Donnie found that out the hard way when he used his mystic sight on Mikey when he was using magic and Donnie as a result got a little bit fucking blinded!

All yōkai and mutants are naturally mystic in nature, they always have a visable aura because of that. Humans are not mystic, so they don't have that aura. HOWEVER! Humans can learn how to use magic through certain means like, y'know, Ninpō for example! When a human uses magic, they do have mystic aura, but only while actively using mystic powers.

(Also Donnie totally accidentally discovered that the "teapot" had bad vibes because his mystic sight lol)

After a while Donnie is able to start making constructs out of his Ninpō. Initially however, he can't really form complex designs, it's mostly just blocks and walls, very simplistic shapes. But it turns out he can use these simpler constructs as effective shields! Which is good considering his soft shell as well as the fact that his battle shell in the AU wasn't built to be used as armour. Both he and April gets a lot of use out of the extra defense.

With quite a bit of practice Donnie is able to actually generate specific and more complex designs! Which means that yes, to the horror of friend and foe alike, Donnie can and will summon an entire arsenal of firepower, yikes. He's not limited to firearms though, he's able to generate all kinds of technology and machinery (drill!!!!)

To create these mystic contructs, it does require Donnie to have a good understanding of what it looks like, how it functions, etc. His imagination and his knowledge of technology are what sets a lot of the limits on what he is able to create, if he can build it in his lab then he can build it with his Ninpō. This particular ability requires a lot complex thought, if Donnie wasn't so smart he wouldn't be able to pull it off as well as he does.

Another limitation is that maintaining the contsructs is very energy-consuming, he'll quickly exhaust himself if he keeps them around. He'll usually only summon constructs very briefly for an attack and then immedietly dismiss them.

The way that Donnnie's Ninpō manifests itself is already very technology-oriented, because of that he can interact with ordinary technology through his Ninpō. Personally I haven't figured out the details of what exactly that can look like, but there's definitely a lot of possibilities to explore here.

One thing though, as Donnie's Ninpō grows more and more powerful overtime, a side-effect of that is that if he gets really pissed off or otherwise very emotional, he'll accidentally make the technology in his near viscinity go haywire lmao. (This has the risk of making him even more angry, which just worsens the problem, and so on haha)

I really like the idea of Donnie being the second most powerful mystic user out of his brothers, after Mikey of course. And because he's mostly self-trained, he doesn't have the best understanding of how to properly control his powers, which evidently can become a bit of a problem. Donnie eventually agrees to let Draxum help him get a better grasp on his mystic abilities after the Hamatos and the Draxums become more friendly with each other.

So uh. About how Donnie kinda accidentally infused Shelldon with mystic energy while creating him which caused the robot to develop a kind of soul? Yeah so because of that Shelldon's mystic energy if linked to Donnie's, which means that Shelldon more or less gains access to the same abilities as Donnie does! He's not quite as powerful as Donnie, and he still needs to practice to fully get a grasp on these powers as well. But point is, that's how Shelldon gains acess to Ninpō in the AU! (He also notices their fucked up "teapot")

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Anyway that basically summarizes it! A lot of these ideas are headcanons I have for canon!Donnie as well honestly, the AU is just an excuse to explore these concepts. Donnie's ability to summon fucking firearms and military equipment is also something I've thought about, I wanted to try to think how it would work for him while also putting some limitations on it. ANOTHER THING I like the idea of Donnie's tech constructs basically being the same ability as when Raph creates constructs of himself. The difference lies with that Donnie is a massive nerd so his first instinct is to recreate his own tech with the Ninpō. While Raph being someone who is already so physically strong would naturally use his Ninpō to recreate his own greatest weapon, which is himself. (Donnie uses his brain, Raph uses his brawn, who would've guessed)

[momo-minomo]

I just intended to check tumblr for a moment before bed when this post caught me by the fucking throat. It’s now past 1:30am and I’m feeling loopy from the melatonin I took so forgive me if this drabble is trash lol.

I’ve made a huge mistake, Clark thought absently.

It had seemed so reasonable in the moment, both he and Bruce were hurting and exhausted after a near wold-ending threat. If Bruce hadn’t been every bit as clever and dauntless as he is Clark would have been trapped in the phantom zone with the dozens of world ending enemies that he’d put there, all of them wanting to tear him apart strip by strip. If Clark had been a fraction slower to react when he’d escaped their enemy would have torn out Bruce’s too-kind heart.

Having come so close to losing each other the pull to be near him, to get his hands on him and grip until they stopped shaking like that was inescapable. Undeniable. It was like being caught in the gravity well of an imploding star. All heat and the need to come closer, brush skin on skin and share breaths. They knew it was bad idea. Knew they needed clear heads to lead the Justice League and clear schedules to protect their separate cities.

When he’d pushed his forehead gently to Bruce’s, his best friend had clutched at his arms and pulled him closer, a broken “Kal.” the only sound in the little medical room he’d found Bruce belatedly catastrophizing in.

They should have forced themselves to separate and walked away because if he’d thought Bruce was on his mind too much before…

Batman sits strong and indomitable as always across from him, his sharp mind probably tearing data and observations from Green Lantern’s report to shreds and identifying a million problems the rest of them never saw coming. Clark will have to watch the security footage of this meeting later because god help him he can’t stop staring at Bruce’s mouth below the edge of cowl.

He knows what that mouth tastes like now. Know how it feels against his lips, his skin, his…

The quiet crack of displaced air startles him out of his memories. He barely resists a second flinch when another crack sounds and Flash is suddenly back in his customary seat beside him holding a sandwich he didn’t have 3 millisecond ago.

Taking a deep breath, Clark sternly reminds himself that he and Bruce had agreed it would only happen the one time exactly for this reason. He straightens up and determinedly tears his eyes from the man across from him and back to Hal.

The Lantern falters for a second under the weight Superman’s intense stare, clearly wondering what the hell he’d done to piss off the Man of Steel, before soldiering on.

He’s never in his life been more aware of a person he wasn’t even looking at. Bruce’s breathing was steady but a little shallower than normal, possibly from bruised ribs since he kept shifting subtly on the inhale to curl ever so slightly on his left side. Kevlar weave armor rasped near silently over the ridges and valleys of old scars he’d traced with hands and teeth and tongue.

Realizing he was subconsciously tapping his finger in time with Bruce’s heartbeat and that it was going a little fast Clark stilled the movement and snuck another quick glance to Bruce.

He was looking straight at him. Clark blinked hard, surprise getting the better of him. Without meaning to he peers straight past the cold lenses of the cowl and into piercing blue eyes dark and intent with desire. They were every bit as captivating 6 feet away as they had been 3 inches from his with Bruce moaning into his ear and his strong legs over Clark’s shoulders, flexible in a way a man with his bulk has no right being. For the sake of Clark’s sanity if for no other reason.

He takes a mental note to put some cash in Ma’s swear jar as a down payment. He has a feeling he’s gonna need it with how utterly fucked he is.

superbat, but they’re the next victim of the “surely this indescribable tension and attraction between us will be solved by just having sex once and realizing that we’re not all that compatible and being together isn’t actually something we want” trope and fucking doesn’t make it better, it makes it worse. so much worse.

[blckbrrybasket]

ᯓ★ 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

MDNI

SFW

- Lesbian (canon)

- Heavy metal is her favorite genre of music.

- Doesn’t have a hand towel in her bathroom. She shakes her hands to dry them and wipes them on her pants.

- Keeps her nails short and hates keeping them painted. She sees it as a waste of time since it chips so frequently.

- Has horrible long term memory but can remember the most random, specific memories or facts.

- Got hit by a motorcycle once and got into a fight with the driver.

- Would have had an emo phase when she was younger without knowing what being emo meant.

- Secretly not so secretly the biggest hater. Does gossip just in her own way of posing things as a fact.

- Hated any type of schooling with a burning passion. Did not do well with the structure it demanded and most likely did not do any schooling after the required amount.

- Snores so loud like a dad and will wake herself up with her own snoring at times.

- Ungodly high tolerance for alcohol…we all see how frequently she drinks.

- Also has an amazing spice tolerance and can eat basically anything. Human vaccum!

- Loves reptiles

- Hates clowns

- Tries to shower often and hates when she’s working for long days without being able to go home to clean.

- She has never done taxes

- When Sevika was younger if she caused something to go wrong she would flee the scene and let someone else take the blame. She isn’t above doing it now.

- Likes being alone. Give her a cigar and some whiskey and she’s set to be alone for the rest of her life. She’s had enough human interaction for one lifetime.

- Honestly bad at handling criticism and tries to rationalize everything she does in her head.

- Gets offended when people incorrectly assume things about her.

- She is completely oblivious to anyone liking her romantically or showing interest in her. She isn’t very conscious of being romantic so it goes over her head if she isn’t actively deciphering if someone is flirting.

SFW (serious)

- Hates hugs but will reluctantly give side hugs to someone very close to her.

- Sevika finds herself blaming Silco some nights and other nights she wants him to come back so she doesn’t have to deal with the chaos Zaun has fallen into.

- She has a love-hate relationship with her parents and ultimately wishes her childhood was better.

- Raised stray dogs on the streets as a kid because she thought of them like her.

- Has insane troubles trying to fall sleep.

- When she does eventually get to sleep she keeps a knife under her pillow. Do not wake her up unless you want to get hurt 😭

- Doesn’t verbally say i love you much. She prefers relationships where you both silently know how much you love each other.

- She can like physical touch at times and seek it out, but she doesn’t like it all the time. Sevika can love deeply, but she doesn’t do well with clingy people.

- She gets overwhelmed pretty easily. Though she doesn’t show it much on her face, it’s easy for her to feel suffocated by lots of things happening.

- She has to get used to cuddling and only cuddles with people she highly trusts where she doesn’t feel as if she is physically trapped.

- Would not be into toxic relationships. She hates situationships where she isn’t secure and/or doesn’t exactly know what she is with someone. Sevika needs something stable or she will not open up.

- Views her childhood self as a completely different person than herself. She mourns the kid who lost their happiness.

- Doesn’t fall in love easily because of the walls she has built up for years.

- Hates receiving help. Hates asking for it even more.

- Was called scrappy when younger and grew up to become ‘a scary lady’. When she’s able to settle down more she realizes how much she hates being stereotyped as this always angry and violent person.

- After becoming a councilor and being alone again years of pain came back. It took her a long time to work through all of it. She could be doing the most random thing and would burst into tears.

- When she hangs out around people she prefers to be in silence.

- Is hard of hearing after the amount of head trauma she has had. By the time she was in her late 50’s she lost complete hearing in one of her ears.

NSFW

- Likes using her strap but prefers feeling you on her skin.

- Loves scissoring, but only does it on special occasions because hit makes her hips ache.

- Likes being bit (are we surprised?)

- Manhandler.

- Loves seeing you drip over her fingers, stretching you out is her favorite part because she always takes her time.

- Is a masochist, not so much a sadist. She sees enough people getting hurt every day by late season two she wouldn’t inflict pain on you in bed.

- Bush!!!! Loves bush, has a bush, wants a jungle.

- Prefers you dressed down. Never complains when you dress up but seeing you in every day clothes, her clothes, or pajamas is her favorite thing.

- It turns her on when you are at equal positions in your relationship instead of one being over the other, but doesn’t mind your subbing or domming more. switch sevika is real.

- PRAISES! Comes up compliments in bed that you didn’t even know she appreciated.

- Loves you dominating her. Giving up all the power she has to constantly hold it turns her brain to mush.

- Every time she is buried between your thighs she will massage them as she gives you head.

- Wears boy shorts underwear and briefs. Keeps them low cut to show her happy trail.

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who accidentally finds out who you gave your first kiss to after being under the impression you still had it.

sure, you both were reaching an age where most people had already kissed another, been bedded, under-age drank, but kaiser never took you as the type to be so… promiscuous (“your dad was okay with it?” he had asked. “why the hell would i tell my dad about that.” your eye roll had never been louder.)

it was apparently some classmate you had dated briefly back in early high school, a time where you had both were barely able to see each other since kaiser spent some time in jail after being framed and after being bailed out by his manager, spent the majority of his time in his team’s training clubhouse. it didn’t help that it was quite a few towns away from your own, so communication grew weary between you and him during that time.

so when you and him finally reconnected and began to settle down with each other once again at an older age, where you and him were blooming into college, he’s amazed to see how much you had grown during the past few years, how your featured had matured into themselves so elegantly that sometimes, when you weren’t looking, he’d examine each bit of your features to get a proper look.

it was a little difficult attempting to gain a proper stance from him, since all the training at bastard mündchen had clearly done a work on him both good and bad, but when kaiser felt himself relaxing more and more with each frequented interaction with you—he’s brought back to when you were both children and didn’t know any better of the world around you.

so imagine his shock when you accidentally let it slip out that your first kiss went rather wrong as you and him are watching some sort of foreign sports movie where the main character’s long-time love interest finally kisses him.

“god i remember my first kiss,” you say casually, making kaiser snap his neck towards you so fast.

first kiss? you had your first kiss already? before he did???

sure, kaiser had a good amount of fans that flocked to him every chance they got and perhaps he’s done a little bit of entertaining to them, but even so—he still hasn’t necessarily had such a moment shared with another. he never felt like he needed to focus on it… never felt like it was some deed worth prioritizing becoming the best striker… until now.

“huh?” kaiser shuffles in his place and furrows his brows tightly, a vein barely visible from his forehead. “whaddya mean first kiss? with who? when?”

the questions shoot out all at once, you can’t help but laugh at kaiser’s (supposed) curiosity. you suppose the suspense of knowing what happened to that runt he met at eight years old has experienced since his arrest.

“oh, it was just a classmate from one of my sophomore classes,” you wave a hand, as if it was completely nothing to hold much regard to.

kaiser twitched, his eyes flickering towards your ripened lips. “and you gave him your first kiss?”

“probably my last too,” you sigh out wearily, “haven’t really had much people interested in me since then.”

he fell silent, going to scan your face again once more as you fixated your gaze to the tv, circling in on your lips again that give a soft pout. he twitched.

“he got too excited and ended up moreso clashing his mouth on mine—we ended up clacking teeth pretty hard,” you snort out as you stare in quiet amazement at how tender and soft the tv’s couple’s kisses were. “it ended up hurting too much to try and continue.”

you bite your lip, concentrated. “i dunno, i just wish it was more slowly, more… in-the-moment.”

kaiser twitched once more. noticing your wistful gaze at the movie playing in front of you and him. he flickers his eyes toward the intimate scene that you seem so focused on. he pays attention to how the lips of the two characters flow in a certain rhythm and how they meld into each other. they seem loose, relaxed, and that lack of tension made the kiss seem much more romantic.

he thinks back to some of how his teammates greet their girlfriends with kisses, or how he’ll just see a random couple locking lips with each other in the bars his team and him tended to as a celebration of a victorious game. kaiser had never felt a compulsion to experience such a thing, but there’s a strange magnetic feeling he’s getting that tugs him closer to you that is very much not his own rationale’s doing.

he says it with too much confidence. he says it like he’s done it numerous times before, like he’s a master at it, despite never even paying such avid attention to another’s lips until now. so kaiser doesn’t know why, but he suddenly blurts out,

“then let me show you a proper kiss.”

[thanosscross]

hii!! <33

i love your work and i just have to request something for.. choi seung-hyun :)

yk top isnt in the kpop industry after all the things that happened to him (i feel so bad for him) so, when he was recording squid game.. guess what!?? apart from jo yuri, reader. a kpop idol whom during the last months/year has become famous there acting!! oh gosh he is so in shock because he gets flashbacks. and aside from that, our character is associated with his, so he has to spend plenty of time with us

Absolutely love it, I do I do. So let's do this

My Darling - Choi Seung Hyun x reader

Summary: Meeting Choi Seung Hyun was an honor for you, considering you had stepped into his spotlight as a new upcoming k-pop rapper after he retired, so what happens whenever you not only meet him, but get closer than most with him

Warnings: You will cry.

Going on set for squid games for the first time was an experience, especially meeting everybody, yes you had been on a handful of other production, but nothing like this. Whenever you first given you script, you were sure you'd be one of the first to be killed off, but finding out you live throughout the second season was a shock, especially because you had a tour coming up soon.

Walking through the groups of people you felt nervous, because of your management company you had missed your first reading for the script, meaning everybody had already met other than you. You chose to sit in your chair off to the side going over your script, trying to anybody wearing a tracksuit with 230 on it, knowing that was going to be the main co-star you filmed with. Unknown to you Choi Seung Hyun had already spotted you and was standing in shock "Hey? You okay man?" Jae-won (Player 124) asked him seeing him staring across the room "Y-Yea, does she look familiar?" He asked motioning to you "I know we film with her, but-" Seung Hyun was cut off by a soft voice in front of him "Hi, I'm uh..Y/n l/n..I guess we're gonna be love interests" You smiled sweetly extending your hand to shake his, taken by surprise by him bending slightly to kiss the top of your hand gently "Choi Seung Hyun" He introduced, you blushed scratching the back of your neck shyly "O-Oh I know, being a big female rapper in k-pop, you have to know who came before you" You smiled, his smirk turned into a genuine smile after that "That's where I recognized you, you're that y/n!" He explained, sighing in relief that it wasn't going to be awkward you smiled "Do you guys wanna go over a few lines with me?..I couldn't make it the other day" You asked shyly, both men excitedly volunteering.

Filming with Seung Hyun was fun, he was always trying to flirt with you or get you to laugh, while it flustered you, the directors and cast loved it, all of them explaining it's giving their characters alot more chemistry behind the acting. As you stood on your mark, Seung Hyun stood on the opposite side of the scene, filming scenes for a close up argument between your character and his, as the director called action you attempted to start your lines "You selfish!- I can't! he's standing there so sweet!" You frowned, stepping forward hugging him tightly "You're not selfish" You frowned, the past few weeks of filming you and Seung Hyun got close, opening up to each other over wine after filming and coffee before filming. Seung Hyun just chuckled "I know, would it help if I made you mad?" He asked raising his eyebrows, you shrugged stepping back to your marker "Couldn't hurt to try" You smiled softly, he just smiled before looking at you "Your music is by far better than anything I've produced, and you've surpassed me in the rap world" He explained, you both knew he was just coming up with things that would get under his skin, it wasn't that you were a huge fangirl, but going into the music world at first you idolized T.O.P, so after his scandal and and him leaving BigBang you held a soft spot for him, he was a big reason you even learned how to rap that fast.

You filmed the scene with ease after that, only stumbling on your lines one more time after that for the day. You were now standing with your back to the wall, Seung Hyun standing a few inches in front of you, his arm blocking one side of your head, the other had a camera positioned to see the both of you perfectly "Y/n, Seung Hyun, Are you two okay to start?" Dong-Hyuk asked, you were grateful to have such a thoughtful director, any intense scenes always making sure you were comfortable and ready before filming started. "Let's do this" Seung Hyun smiled, you nodded in agreement as they called out action. "I thought I told you to pick to stay, senorita" he growled, grabbing the bright red X patch that was velcroid to your jacket "You're not the boss of me" You stated glaring him down, trying your best to remember what line was your cue to try and get away "Didn't I say I'd kill you?" He asked reaching his hand back, forgetting your cue you yelped as Seung Hyun's came in contact with your throat, pinning you to the wall, you both glanced at the director in shock, almost like children after accidentally hurting each other. "Cut!" He called out "Y/n! What was that? Did you forget your cue or something?" The director called out, your eyes were stuck on Seung Hyun though, his hand slowly pulling away from you, being replaced by his gentle finger tips "Are you okay?" He asked softly, trying to see with the current lighting if he hurt you "I'm alright, it just scared me..I guess I did forget" You whispered, you wouldn't admit why exactly you forgot, it definitely wasn't because of Seung Hyun's voice whenever he was acting.

After filming you were sitting on your trailer steps, watching the rain fall around you "Y/n" Seung Hyun's soft voice sounded from somewhere around the corner of your trailer "Seung Hyun?" You asked, trying to hear him over the soft pattering of the raindrops, you soon realized he wasn't talking to you, he was talking about you. Peeking around the corner you saw him a few trailers down talking on the phone with somebody "Yea yea I know that, but what else?" He asked, you stayed hidden behind your trailer, still listening in, not at all sorry to admit you really cared about what he thought about you, but also sorry to admit you felt the need to listen in on his conversation to know. "I don't know man! W-working with her has been fun.." You heard between the muffled quiet bits of his conversation, you were about to walk away before you heard him raise his voice again "Oh no! No! Not like that!" He shouted, you could only wonder what he meant or what he was talking about, you chose to keep it to yourself for now.

Walking up with a startle off put your morning severely, being a rising star wasn't easy, you had creeps at meet and greets, stalkers that went to extensive lengths to try and get your attention, some of which giving you pretty intense nightmares and ptsd. Walking onto set you gripped your script, you had accidentally slept through coffee with Seung Hyun, which gave him a weird feeling, like there was something wrong. "Y/n?" You heard his voice before you slammed into his body, you scampered back as Seung Hyun caught you easily, steading you on your feet before taking in your panicked look "Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" He asked tilting his head, you didn't reply, just wrapping your arms tightly around him trying not to show to anybody that you were close to tears. Now Seung Hyun wasn't a liar, he wasn't very fond of physical touching, but there was something about your panicked terrified state that gave him a craving to hold onto you until you were back to your usual bubbly self. Wrapping his arms around you he rested a hand on the back of your head, holding you close to him "What happened this morning?" He asked "You were fine whenever I left last night.." He continued giving you a soft squeeze before pulling away, keeping a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. "I don't..Just..bad dreams" You smiled softly, trying to shake off any remaining anxiety you had "Are you okay to do today?" He asked rubbing your shoulder gently, you relaxed further under his touch "Y-Yea yea, I'm okay" You smiled, he gave you an encouraging smile before leading you over to your seats, that you both had moved closer to each other during one of your interviews earlier in the week.

As you read through this episodes script you mumbled quietly to yourself, unknowingly singing along to different verses of different songs that popped into your head "Okay, remind me when I'm in the studio again to get you to come do a collaboration track together" Seung Hyun smiled walking over to you from where he was filming "Don't play with my teenage fangirl heart like that" You teased, you both knew how you felt towards BigBang as a teenager, how you had posters of your co-star in your room before and after his rap career. "I'm serious, that's some good work" He smiled sincerely squeezing your shoulder sitting down, you just offered him an awkward smile, you knew today was Seung Hyun's last day on set, and it would be the last day you truly got to spend with him, and it'd be a lie if you said you wouldn't miss him.

You had one scene left between you and Seung Hyun before his characters death scene, and you were a nervous wreck, as the director called out action you stood in the colored room for the game 'mingle' "What was that stunt you pulled, huh!?" He shouted, backing you against the wall "I-I was trying to save her-" He cut you off, you did your best to act nervous and scared, but it was hard whenever the man currently yelling at you would apologize the minute any scenes where he had to objectify or be rude to you were done. "Her!? What about you, senorita!?" He screamed before backing up running his hands through his hair before going back to standing in front of you "I'm so fucking mad right now!" He shouted, pulling out another piece of candy out of his prop necklace placing it in his mouth "Just calm down! I'm okay, alright!" You argued, he just put his arm against the wall glaring at you, you took a deep breath getting ready for your cue "Don't try to tell Thanos the great to- Umpf!" He started until you smacked your lips against his, his hands going to your hips holding you close to his body waiting for the director to call Cut. Whenever he did you were a flustered mess, who knew that man could kiss like that?

After filming wrapped you were quick to get back to your trailer, shutting the door softly behind you before placing your face in your hands trying to take deep breaths, you didn't want anybody to see you like this, you felt stupid and overdramatic, but you and Seung Hyun had gotten really close during your months of filming, and it made you sad thinking about how busy you were, and how little you'd get to see your new friend, you wouldn't say you were an emotional person, but whenever you felt something, you truly felt it to where it'd effect everything you'd do. As you took your final shaky deep breath you jumped hearing the door close "Y/n?.." Seung Hyun asked softly, he thought you had been acting even odder than before as they got closer to his characters death, but after you left while he was saying his thank you's and goodbye's to everybody it was obvious now something was really bothering you. Seeing your teary eyes and tear stained cheeks he felt a pain in his chest "Oh, Jagi" He whispered pulling you into a hug, now Seung Hyun wasn't sure what he felt towards you, but he knew it was something different, he wanted to talk to you everyday, wanted to be the one to comfort you when you're sad, hold you whenever you're scared, and he knew friends didn't want that with other friends.

"I really liked hanging out and meeting you Seung Hyun" You sniffled stepping back, starting to bow in respect but he stopped you "Is that what you've been so upset about?" He asked, a soft smile playing on his lips, you just shrugged against his hold on you, not trusting your voice to speak "I didn't think you'd miss me that bad" He smiled, leading you over to sit on the couch that was placed in the bigger space of the trailer "I can't...have alot of friends...I mean you know, and being here, I feel like I finally found one, and I don't know when I'll see you again" You frowned, feeling tears start to build back up in your eyes, his expression was quick to match yours as he hugged you again "You'll see me again, y/n, don't worry I don't care if I have to buy V.I.P tickets to see you at every show, you're too cool to just not be your friend after this" He smiled giving you a slight squeeze before pulling away, you sniffled wiping your face "You wouldn't pay, I'd let you come watch backstage" You whispered, his frown turning into a soft chuckle "Well then, I'll be looking forward to it" He smiled, kissing your forehead softly "I had fun hanging out with you too, y/n" He added on, holding your hand in his gently "Promise we'll see each other again?" You whispered, feeling yourself about to cry again "I swear to you, jagi" he whispered before leaning back pulling you into a hug, holding you until you fell asleep.

Whenever you woke up the feeling of sadness was even heaiver seeing Seung Hyun gone and a small note sitting on the table

'Jagi,

I had to get going in time to make an art show, but I will be back to see you soon! Just over the last month, you've made me feel things I never thought I would be capable of feeling, that's how I knew you were my best friend. Acting with you and all the nights we spent talking will forever be an honor for me, your beauty is like no others, my eyes are drawn it to like a bumble bee to a flower. You give me hope there's a lot of good things to keep trying for, and for that, I will always be grateful for you my jagi.

Yours truly,

Choi Seung Hyun

T O P <3'

Reading the note you felt yourself on the verge of crying again, wanting to smack him for not letting you have a chance to thank him for being so sweet to you, sighing you got up, ready to get finished filming so you could see your best friend again.

--

HAHA MY FIRST SLIGHTLY SAD FIC AND MY FIANCE IS SO PISSED SHE'S GOTTA WAIT FOR A PART TWO!!

[recursive-muse]

Well I suppose to start off, obviously trans misogyny "isn't real" it's not made of matter, it exists in a very loose sense as a general pattern of discriminatory and cruel behavior directed mostly, but not exclusively at trans women. But I suppose you'd want me to ask you how can something that isn't even made of matter have definitive qualities? It can't be set in stone or 'definitive' any more than Christmas or the qualities of a unicorn can be.

So while you can be correct or incorrect about the particular details of an instance of discrimination experienced by a particular person (be they trans or otherwise). There are no concrete rules as to how anyone is discriminated against, just general guidelines that people learn from each other by watching their behavior.

So I suppose it's true that if you insist on narrowly defining trans misogyny as a form of discrimination that is both a) uniquely experienced by trans women, and b) defined by trans women as a collective. Then it's true that no such thing exists as the particulars of how and why discrimination is doled out are decided by the discriminator in the instance of discrimination, and instances of mistaken identity are fairly common (i.e. a trans man or cis woman could be mistaken for a trans woman, or vice versa).

What's more, It's not at all clear how you intend for point b of your definition of trans misogyny to work. Do all trans women need to attend a meeting to agree on the definition, do they put it to a vote or is it by consensus, and if it is how much variance in the understanding of the definition is tolerable? How closely does someone have to identify with womanhood to count as part of this community and how many members need to be present for them to hold quorum?

This is all of course in jest, we both know there is no one definition of trans misogyny that all trans women agree to, there are some generalities but every definition has its detractors and there is no binding consensus. This too is another vague social construct that lacks definitive qualities.

As for your conjecture that I am either 'misusing' or 'misdefining' the word trans misogyny which you somewhat unhelpfully declined to define yourself. I don't see how that's possible when language itself is socially constructed. Now yes, there are prescriptive, academic, and dictionary definitions, all of which can be quite helpful in clarifying what we mean when we use certain words. But as I'm sure you've noticed with slang people can say whatever they like and meen whatever they like by it and as long as they're understood by some subset of the population they've successfully used language. Now I know it's tempting to say that slang isn't 'official', but as you may have guessed the official quality of anything is also socially constructed (see aren't social constructs fun, we're 'surrounded' by them all the time and yet we hardly ever get around to recognizing them as such). As again I'm sure you've noticed definitions can vary from one dictionary to the next and academics themselves can quarrel over the precise details of any given definition, while still agreeing on the broader points. So there are no 'definitive' definitions just ones that are agreed upon by groups of experts, but even then who gets to be an expert, how much schooling do they need, if groups disagree how should they resolve their differences? These questions have plenty of practical answers, but no correct ones.

You also seem to imply that you have some sort of information that I lack which would better clarify your point. Now I very much doubt that, but I suppose you can claim it to be true, I don't care. Then you imply that my points are for some reason 'despicable' I'm guessing you want me to interpret this as some sort of unsubstantiated moral claim, tho I don't understand what you mean by it. Honestly, I see it as an emotional reaction to my position different from your own, or perhaps you simply dislike my phrasing. Either way, my positions are correct and I don't care why you dislike them, they are factual after all.

To round this out I'll clarify two more points for you. I'm gender fluid, and I have a degree in sociology. So there, I hope this hasn't ruined your day or anything. Personally I don't really think that matters, but there it is.

“everyone talking about transmisogyny is a binary trans woman, as evidenced by the fact that I assume everyone talking about transmisogyny is a binary trans woman”

sigh

[multific]

Healing the Emperor's Heart

Emperor Caracalla x Reader

Summary: You were to care for him. Instead, you loved him.

From the first day, you were assigned to care for Caracalla.

When you met him, his appearance startled you. 

He appeared worn and weak, a shadow of the man others whispered about in the palace corridors. 

Your role was more than that of a servant. You were trusted to tend to his every need and ensure his comfort.

Your days became routines entwined with his. Each morning, you prepared herbal remedies and charmed him into eating. 

At first, Caracalla resisted your efforts, his pride bruised by your efforts. He barely acknowledged your presence. Because if he ignored you, you would go away.

But you didn't. Instead, you stayed.

Slowly, he began to change. His eyes lingered on you longer, his tone softened when he called your name, and his occasional questions about you became sincere and kind.

One quiet evening, he decided to speak up.

“Why do you bother with me?” His voice was low.

“Because I was tasked by your brother.”

“Many would refuse such a task."

"Not me, Emperor Caracalla. I believe everyone has some good in them."

“You’re either brave or a fool.” For a moment, his expression faltered, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. 

“Perhaps both, My Emperor” You offered a faint smile with an aching heart. "Please, drink your tea." you handed him the cup which he took.

It was the first time you gave him the medicine.

After that, you gave it to him daily. A little into his daily tea which was prepared by you, so he never failed to drink it.

The medicine gradually began to take effect. 

Day by day, Caracalla’s strength grew, and his eyes got clearer and clearer. 

The haze clouding his mind slowly lifted, and his thoughts sharpened. 

The transformation was impossible to ignore, and soon enough, his brother, Geta, took notice.

It was after a rather quiet afternoon that you were summoned to Emperor Geta’s chamber. 

You felt uneasy as he looked you up and down. 

“What have you given him?” he demanded, his voice cold and sharp.

“Tea to ease his suffering, nothing more, Your Majesty.” You chose your words carefully. 

“Do not take me for a fool. My brother’s sudden recovery defies explanation. What are you hiding?” His tone grew more vicious.

"I meant no harm. And he is a lot better." you tried defending yourself.

Geta punched his chair as his anger grew.

"I'm not going to ask any more, what did you give him?"

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Caracalla stormed in. 

“Leave them, Brother” Caracalla ordered, his voice firm.

“You trust them so completely, yet you fail to see how—”

“Enough,” Caracalla interrupted. “You will not question their loyalty. They have done more for me than the doctors ever have.”

Geta’s lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm not angry because you helped him, I only wish to know how you did it when all doctors said we should give up." Geta's tone softened.

"Tea, My Lord I can assure you. Tea my grandmother taught me how to make." you replied.

Geta simply nodded before he left, closing the door behind himself.

Caracalla stepped closer, his expression was soft as his eyes met yours.

“You shouldn’t have come,” you murmured, your voice tinged with worry. “I could handle him.”

“I won’t stand by while my brother questions someone so important to me.”

Your breath caught, his words catching you off guard. “Important?” you echoed softly.

He reached for your hand, his touch warm and steady. “You’ve given me more than my health. You’ve given me hope. A second chance in life.”

“Caracalla…” you began, but he silenced you with a gentle look.

“There’s something I must say,” he continued, his voice low. “You’ve brought light to my life. You healed my illness and my heart. I wish to marry you.”

“Will you marry me?” Your heart raced as he knelt before you, his gaze filled with sincerity. An Emperor kneeling in front of a simple servant.

Tears blurred your vision as words failed you in the moment. 

"I would be a fool to say no to you. But I'm simply a servant. I am no Empress."

"Of course you are." He rose, pulling you close, and his lips met yours in a kiss that was tender yet full of promise. "You are my Empress."

In that moment, nothing else mattered.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief  

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[orphicmusings]

this is so self indulgent but i love the idea of modern!viktor with reader who is more artistic/humanities inclined rather than stem…museum dates are a staple, obviously, whether they’re art or history, you walk hand in hand and sit on the little benches when you need a break and talk about your favorite parts (he loves seeing artifacts and antiques!!!) and he loves that he gets to hear you gush about each subject you come across and watch your eyes flicker with absolute light as you learn more and more, the passion for it being the best thing the two of you share other than your love for each other.

and then he’ll take you to one of those science discovery places, and he loves to freak you out with gnarly facts and will spend an hour in the planetarium with you if they let you, mapping out the constellations in the dim light in your own little journals, pretending you’re ancient astrologers. one time, on a particularly slow day, due to the relaxing music and general ambience, you both had fallen asleep in there— your head on his shoulder, his head on top of yours, and a staff member found you about a half hour before closing.

spoiling your partner with fine things such as designer clothes and jewelry is great, and he would if you wanted it, but to him? the most fun he’ll ever have spoiling you is watching you go absolutely ham in a bookstore. following behind you through the shelves with a basket to collect your pile, and you making sure you’re picking out a few you can read together (you reading aloud to him to get his mind to quiet down enough for him for fall asleep—he loves jane austen). seeing you geek out over limited edition covers of classics, dracula, frankenstein (which you affectionately call him, viktor frankenstein, when he is particularly too stubborn to leave his lab), greek myths, shakespeare, even if you already have a copy, he’ll buy you this one simply because it looks better on your joint bookshelf.

and if you ever doubt your intelligence in comparison to his? after trying to figure out something mathematical and handing it to him and him getting it done within seconds? even muttering a “right, sorry, i’m stupid” as a kneejerk reaction to existing in a lifetime of academic settings where stem is prioritized as The Smart People Subject and the humanities are only there as frivolous endeavors— will earn you the most disappointed look. “do not talk about yourself like that, my darling. i mean it.” he tells you firmly, getting more annoyed at you putting yourself down than he ever would with you asking him for help. oh, and if you were feeling particularly self deprecating and decided to go back at him?

god have mercy on you as he has you reading and retaining information from dense texts to him as he’s buried between your thighs, just to prove you can do what he couldn’t.

“mhm, and what have we learned?”

“that…” you caught your breath. “orpheus actually proved he loved eurydice by-“

“no.” he chided gently with a breathy smirk of his own. “that my love is entirely capable, and skilled, the most clever little darling i know…yes?”

you can’t stop the bashful smile that pulls at your lips and the heat that dusts your cheeks when you answer in affirmation.

[itsallsinshere]

sweeter than dreams

boyfriend!Nanami comes home after a long and late day at work, and when you look so sweet sleeping there... how can he help himself?

warnings: somnophilia, even though it was consented by both parties prior/reader consents throughout -- just tread carefully!

PLEASE NO MINORS, 18+ ONLY, THANK YOUUUU

The night was still and quiet, as it always was by the time Nanami finished his sorcery duties. With the growing global discontent at the state of the world, curses only seemed to spring up more and more frequently– which meant Nanami had much later nights. At least he was getting paid overtime. 

But the extra compensation was hardly comparable to being able to come home to you. 

It was you that quickened his step and strengthened his swings once 5:01 came rolling around, and the pull back to your soft embrace and the sweet smell of your shampoo was inescapable. It was you that he fought so hard to protect every day with a fervor. 

The iron staircase creaked beneath his lumbering steps as he climbed to the second floor landing of the apartment complex, exhaling a slow and heavy sigh as he took a moment to stall in the fluorescent lighting. Today was especially long and tedious, even with Yuji and Megumi’s assistance. One hand grasped at the side of his neck to dig his fingers in as a pseudo-massage, body aching from exertion. 

At only 28 years of age, the man felt decades older with each passing day. There was no end to the work of a jujutsu sorcerer, and though thoughts of you kept him from ever truly considering it, Nanami sometimes wondered just how much he could take. He was only human, even if he did what most others could not. 

The keys jingled as he fished them from the pocket of his slacks, a smile ghosting upon his lips at the smell of pine permeating through the edges of the closed door– you must’ve had one of your candles on tonight, the ones he always kept well stocked for you. 

“Sweetheart?” 

The silence that greeted him was only a touch unnerving, perhaps because he was so eager to hear your sweet voice calling for him the moment he arrived home. But the soft dim of your shared apartment calmed him as he gently closed and locked the door behind him– nothing was out of place, and if something really was wrong, he figured at least one or two things would’ve been toppled over. So he bent down to remove his shoes and set them on the rack before advancing further, shrugging off his blazer to hang on the coat rack.

Everywhere there were small reminders of you that made it feel more like home than it ever had before you’d moved in. Your shoes by the door, your bag seated neatly on the kitchen table next to a plastic-wrapped dish with a little note on it. 

Made you dinner & got your favorite bread for dessert — in the toaster. I love you ❤️ 

The smile that settled upon his lips was a subtle and tender little upturn in the way only you managed to bring about. Always so thoughtful and sweet, you never once gave Nanami any guff about his late nights and only ensured dinner was ready and waiting for him. He wasn’t quite sure how he made due before you’d entered his life, and now you’d become a fixture he couldn’t ever live without. 

The clock on the microwave read 2:15 am as he carefully unwrapped the dish and placed it within to heat, waiting for the timer to elapse down to one second before plucking open the door once more— before the timer blared of course. 

It smelled delicious as your cooking always did and tasted even better, though Nanami knew your company would’ve only enhanced the experience. With each bite he was aware of your absence at the table, and the desire to see you grew. And once the plate was cleared and quietly cleaned in the sink, the bread was left in the toaster in favor of more important things. 

The sight of you curled up in his bed charmed a soft smile upon his face immediately, unable to help leaning against the doorframe just to admire you. You must’ve been asleep for a while by then, with the way the covers were kicked off and your hair had gone messy. He watched your chest rise and fall with each breath vigilantly before he even paused to ponder your state. 

Nanami was a rather simple man, aside from all the sorcery. He wore a suit to work (and most other affairs, unless you begged him to wear something more casual) and pajamas to bed. It was a bit of a shock to have seen you climbing into bed the first night you’d moved in with only a shirt over your underwear. He’d even offered to buy you a set, figuring maybe you’d forgotten or lost yours in the move over. But you respectfully declined with a kiss, expressing that you could never sleep with pants on— something along the lines of “I like to let my legs breathe!” The notion was novel to him at the time, but if it kept you comfortable then that was the end of that. Of course over time he began to appreciate the freedom your decision came with, how pleasant it was to run his fingertips over the exterior of your soft thigh and hip in the early morning hours, to watch your eyes flutter open and sparkle with recognition as his thumb caressed close to your waist. Any and every way to get closer to you was a godsend, lack of clothing included. 

You were sleeping comfortably on your side, knees curled up towards your chest with your arms strewn messily across the other half of the bed— where Nanami should’ve been, for hours by now. The shirt you were wearing, his t-shirt of course, had bunched and ridden up around your waist. And in your slumber you yawned and extended your legs just a bit before settling once more, making Nanami’s breath hitch. You were wearing those panties. His favorite, though he’d never told you so. Black and silky with scalloped edges that sat so prettily upon the plush of your rear and the fullness of your thighs… it clung to the curves of your ass and left little to the imagination, though Nanami had memorized the intricacies of your body long ago. 

In the darkness, his eyes traced up and down your exposed lower body, stopping each time at that little garment that had such a big effect on him. But only when he deigned to look up at your peacefully sleeping face did he feel the tightness in his chest and the unrest in his fingers— only then did he realize just how much he’d missed you, and now needed you. 

Work had been killer lately, and these late nights were growing more and more frequent. Nanami recalled the last time he’d even had the *time* to touch you as well over a couple weeks ago. It was catching up to him then, the stirring in his chest echoing the heat swelling in his groin. It was a sin to be bereft of you for so long, and he couldn’t go another moment. 

Silent as he could, he hooked an index finger over the knot of his tie to loosen it down to his chest and then pull it off, setting it on the dresser near the door as his other hand went about undoing his button down from the collar. His eyes never strayed from you as he slipped his suspenders off one broad shoulder then the other, not even for one moment. And if it were any other night Nanami would’ve taken the care to place his discarded garments in the clothing bin by the foot of the bed, but such tasks seemed trivial in comparison to you. 

You, who slept so blissfully unaware of how just the sight of you set him ablaze. For a moment he felt a tinge of indignation while undoing his slacks— how dare you sleep so sweetly that he couldn’t resist his need to savor it? 

He was half-hard already, just from letting his eyes trace the curve of your ass over and over again. And though he’d never felt such an inclination before, he was quick to climb into bed next to you with just his briefs on which grew more strained by the second. 

It was a suggestion that Nanami had deemed asinine when you’d first put it out into the universe– the idea of him doing anything to you unless you were fully awake and present seemed extremely gouache and unsavory. What sort of gentleman would impose himself upon someone so vulnerable? 

But the idea had set him aflame now as he slid close enough to feel your warmth, his breathing growing labored. The smell of your shampoo felt cloying in his nostrils, sweeter than any tart or cake at even his favorite childhood bakery. One hand reached for you and paused in midair, as though at war with his own morals. And none the wiser, you exhaled a soft breath as you turned onto your back, your bust jumping before settling on your chest– and that was all it took. 

First tentatively over the plush of your exposed stomach, releasing a shuddered exhale as his fingertips dragged over your soft skin. He admired you in the quiet still of your bedroom, in your oblivious slumber as his thumb stroked under the hem of the shirt bunched around your waist. He chuckled, low and hushed, more to himself than to you. “If only you knew how you’ve wrapped me around your finger...” Gently, he leaned close enough to brush the ghost of a kiss against your temple, savoring your warmth before he could no longer ignore the throbbing in his briefs. 

Ever so softly he raised the hem of the t-shirt– his t-shirt that he appreciated much more on you. A centimeter a second as to not disturb you from your peaceful slumber, bunching up the fabric until he could raise it over your chest. And how sweet and serene your expression was as he took to your skin like a man starved, thoughts of only you overwhelming his composure. How soft and smooth your skin was, how supple the flesh of your breasts felt as he so gently cupped them to bring them together, and how oblivious to the way his cock was throbbing for you. His eyes locked on your face, he tested the waters by swiping the pad of one thumb against the underside of your nipple. And when a shudder ran through you but you did not stir or wake, Nanami swallowed the groan it conjured in the depths of his chest. 

“Irresistible, even in the depths of your dreams…” He breathed against your skin as he climbed over your legs and let the tip of his nose brush just lightly against the side of your hardening nipple. Your exhale hitched out into the ghost of a whimper that brought a smile to his lips before they parted to run the flat of his tongue over both nipples at once. The goosebumps that bristled upon your skin quickly after was enough to have the hairs at the back of his neck bristling with impatience– but he wouldn’t rush this. 

Yet he couldn’t resist dragging the tip of his tented cock against the plush of your thigh as he feasted hot kisses upon both nipples and breast, ears perking to hear the slow and steady of your breathing growing quicker and shallower with each passing moment. Soft kisses trailed down your sternum and tummy, whispered praises ghosting over your skin even though he knew you weren’t awake to hear them. 

Your hips stirred from the bed when his lips brushed against your hip bone and his eyes flickered back up to your face, amusement in his husky voice. “Awake, darling?” As much as the sound of your sleepy voice would’ve warmed his heart, part of him was grateful that silence was his answer. There was an unexpected power in having you like this even though Nanami would sooner die than do anything unsavory to you– but to have you at his mercy? It sparked an unexpected bout of dominance that had him tugging your panties down your thighs with a little less grace than before.

“Nnn..” You whimpered in your unconsciousness at the movement and Nanami shushed you gently, peppering kisses to the tops of your thighs as he worked your panties down and off of your ankles. 

He spread your legs slowly and savored the warmth of settling between your thighs, feeling the blood pumping in his veins accelerating as he caught the scent of your budding arousal. His large hands gently cupped the undersides of your knees to hold them apart, caring less and less about waking you and more about finally having you. 

Nanami was quick to press a messy kiss to your leaking slit, eyes snapping up to your face between your heaving breasts as his tongue slipped out to collect your leaking nectar– so sweet, the only dessert he needed, despite your consideration. 

The muscle dove between your folds as far as he could manage, squeezing the underside of your thighs when he felt your body starting to twitch and stir in response. He was steadfast in the way he tasted you, all but panting into your sensitive flesh. Only when one hand groped down to your loins and thumbed over your clit did your body arch and a wavering keen fall from your soft lips. “Nanami…” Something about your crackling little voice, heavy with the pull of sleep that you seemed to fight against, made him sigh sweetly into your cunt. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He responded with a bit of mirth, enjoying how your eyelids fluttered when he slipped two fingers inside. You gasped sharply and bucked, but Nanami hooked his other arm under your thigh and around your hip to keep you in place. You were on the verge of waking now though the thought went by the wayside– he had much more important things to focus on, like the sound of your wetness oozing over his fingers and down your ass. 

The whimpers that fell from your lips were positively sinful, but Nanami’s fingers plunged inside like you were the only salvation he knew. Still not quite awake but definitely not asleep, it was an endearing limbo that the man fully intended to take advantage of. 

“What is it, my love?” He goaded in a husky tone that muffled against your mound before dragging the tip of his tongue agonizingly slowly over your perked clit that had you groaning and curling your toes. Of course you couldn’t answer coherently, between battling the heaviness of your eyelids and the heat sweltering from within you, and Nanami enjoyed the distressed and pleasured look on your face immensely. 

“F-Fingers… F-Feels… Hhn…” You barely managed to string together, to which Nanami chuckled breathily over your pussy before curling his long fingers to more completely dig around in your insides. 

“That’s right, sweetheart…” He hummed into your cunt, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit before scissoring his fingers within you to savor how it made you mewl, “You looked so sweet, I just couldn’t help myself. Is that alright?” 

How quickly you nodded in your stupor, one trembling hand reaching down to fix tightly to his taut forearm. “Yes!” 

He could tell that you were nearing your limit, as was he with the painful way his cock was throbbing and rock hard against the silk of the sheets. It ached for relief, but he placated the pulsating by idly grinding against the bunched up comforter beneath him. 

“Let it out then, baby,” Nanami rasped, throat thick with desire and your sweetness as the words vibrated over your sensitive flesh, “So I can give you what you need.” 

He doubled his efforts instantly after the growled word rolled off of his tongue, quick to put the muscle to use and flick it ceaselessly over your bud. Your walls suctioned down around his digits as if to keep them buried there, only milking harder with each passing moment that had your entire body buzzing with bliss. The weight of your slumber was still lingering upon each extremity, your head still foggy with the suddenness of your awakening, yet it only served to sharpen the pleasure swelling within your gut that echoed in the way your moans hitched higher and harsher. And despite the gentleman you’d always known him to be, Nanani was ravenous as he ripped a powerful orgasm from your shuddering body and lapped up every drop to be spared like a delicacy. You’d hardly even realized you’d been chanting his name until the ringing in your ears stopped and your eyes fluttered open at last, just in time to see his tender smile as he climbed atop you. 

“Are you alright?” He asked between soft kisses, his dry hand raising to cup the side of your face and caress his thumb over your cheek, “Not too much?” 

“Not enough…” You huffed in a petulant little whine, feeling your walls clamping down around the infuriating emptiness within at both his affection and the taste of yourself on his lips. 

“Is that so?” He murmured, playfully, sitting back on his haunches between your thighs to let his eyes languidly run up and down your mostly exposed body beneath him. You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you watched him clean your essence from his fingers– leaving not one drop of slick behind. And when one of your hands snuck down to pluck at the waistband of his briefs he couldn’t help but laugh, genuinely tickled at your impatience. 

“You were asleep two minutes ago, and now you’re getting grabby?” He tutted, good-naturedly. Nanami gently took the wrist of that hand to bring it up and kiss the heel of your palm before setting it back down on the bed next to you. You pouted at the tease in his voice but the sight only made him smile, leaning down to kiss your pursed lips as he tugged the waistband of his briefs low enough for his excitement to spring free. “Don't worry, I won’t keep you waiting.” 

In one swift movement he reared his hips back to sink slowly into your warmth, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth as sparks of pleasure crackled through your nerves. “Every time–” Nanami groaned, one hand fastening to the plush of your hip as the other rose to cup underneath your neck, his forehead resting upon yours as he adjusted to your warmth, “Every time you feel like heaven…” 

He kissed you diligently, letting not one moment pass where the fullness of your lips was not meshed flush against his own to eat up your sweet whines and muffled moans. You could feel him pulsing deep inside of you, and for a moment you were ready to curse his sense of restraint until at last he began in short and shallow thrusts. It wasn’t long before you were bucking your hips up to meet his, panting as he tore his lips from yours to lock eyes with you as the pace picked up. 

“Oh god…” You sighed breathlessly as the tip of his cock scraped against your still sensitive walls each time he shifted forward, sinking deeper and deeper with each thrust until at last you could feel him hilting and the slap of perspiring skin on skin filled the bedroom around you. 

“What a naughty thing, practically begging me to fuck you in your sleep…” Nanami grunted as he groped the fat of your hip harshly, using it to hold you down further and drive into you more violently, eyes never leaving your face, “At first I thought it was barbaric, brutish even…” 

He leaned in to pepper your cheek with soft pecks, the hand under your neck abandoning its post to instead help the other in grabbing your hips and raising it to drive himself more firmly into you. “But seeing you, so oblivious and yet so receptive to my touch…” Nanami cooed breathily into your ear, his smooth voice hitching with each firm thrust, “You may have just changed my mind after all. Is this what you wanted, baby? Hmm?” 

“God, yes!” You all but wailed as his tip bullied that sensitive and spongy spot deep inside of you, throwing your head back against the pillow as your nails dragged firmly down the man’s broad back. He hissed out in pained pleasure at the sensation and your moans wavered into frantic whines when he strained his back to truly slam into you. And when you grabbed for him in the frenzy of your pleasure, hands trembling and eyes watering, Nanami couldn’t help but growl and throw your legs over his shoulders to squeeze your thighs and pound his pulsing cock into your squelching cunt at an unyielding pace and force. You couldn’t recall a time he’d ever been so impassioned, but you certainly weren’t complaining– even if you had the wherewithal to comment on it between ragged gasps and cries. 

Your nails dug into the backs of his tensed hands as each firm thrust had you bouncing only for his hands to slam you back down onto his cock until your eyes were wide and you couldn’t recognize the sound of your own wanton squeals. 

“God, I’m–” Nanami’s husky voice rolled off into a low groan when your cunt squeezed down tight, your insides fluttering with a tell-tale tingle that spoke of your impending peak. He gritted his teeth, taking the opportunity to lave wet kisses upon your moist neck when your head tilted back in pleasure. “I’m close, sweetheart…” 

You practically sobbed in desperation and ecstasy as you felt the muscles in your gut tensing like the slow and methodical winding of a music box, unable to deny how your entire body sang for him. The hard ridges and the throbbing veins of his cock dragging against your clenching walls was almost as gratifying as the sound of his usually soft voice growing rich with blissful delight just as his composure began to slip. 

“I-Inside, please…!” You managed to keen just as you felt the rubber band inside fraying and splintering until the dam disintegrated and electrifying nirvana crashed through you from head to toe in a shaking precipice. Nanami grunted as your leaking walls clamped down hard around his rock hard girth, stuffing into you messily until he seated himself inside of you completely. And with a soft sigh of relief, eyes squeezing shut, he shot his seed as deep into you as he could manage, the warmth sending flutters through you. He was quick to release your thighs in favor of cupping your face, pressing one sweet kiss and then another to your lips until the last rope filled you. 

“Alright?” Nanami was always quick to check on you after sex, eyes vigilantly tracing over your features to search for any indication of pain or discontent. You smiled dreamily and nuzzled into one of his palms, “I’m alright, Nanami.” 

Only then did he truly allow himself to relax, carefully laying himself down next to you to pull you close. His fingers threaded gently through your hair, letting the corner of his lips rest against your forehead. “Good.” He hummed. 

It must’ve been at least 3:30 in the morning by then, the stuffy heat in the room gradually dissipating to a comfortable warmth shared between your bodies. Nanami helped you tug the t-shirt back down modestly before tucking himself back into his briefs. You knew he probably wanted to shower, but the silence and the gradual slowing of his breath informed you that it probably wouldn’t be happening tonight. It was only a few more moments until he was out cold, one arm loosely around your waist to keep your body comfortably nestled against his own. And while he was squarely asleep, you were completely awake, the height of your pleasure still thrumming adrenaline through your veins. You took the opportunity to admire the man you loved, the manly edges of his visage, the surprising length of his eyelashes and the blonde tint to them that mirrored his cropped hair– made messy from your intimacy. 

He looked so… serene. So… vulnerable. 

Maybe you’d have to give it a try sometime, too.

[rose24207]

No, you’re not

Summary: You and Lando have been inseparable since childhood, both secretly in love with each other but too afraid to confess—he believes you deserve better than him, and you think his flings mean he could never see you that way, leaving your feelings tangled in unspoken fears of ruining your lifelong friendship.

Genre: angst, fluff

TW: None!

A/N: wow this is a long request! Thank you!! I really hope it’s like how you wanted it! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Based of this request

Masterlist

The Brazil Grand Prix had always been one of Lando’s toughest races. The circuit wasn’t just a test of his skill; it was a mental and physical marathon. This year was no different. After a grueling 71 laps that left him finishing far from where he wanted to be, he was wrung out, mentally frayed, and questioning every decision he’d made during the weekend. The lack of sleep afterward didn’t help, and by the time he boarded the flight back to Monaco, he was barely holding himself together.

All he wanted was to get home and shut the world out. No cameras, no engineers pointing out his mistakes, no fans bombarding him with well-meaning but exhausting messages. Just silence.

Except, as soon as he opened his front door, he realized he wasn’t going to be alone.

The lights in the living room were dim, but the faint glow of the TV illuminated the familiar figure curled up on his couch. You.

Lando’s heart squeezed at the sight of you, a feeling so achingly familiar it was almost painful. You were his best friend—the one constant in his life, the one person who saw him as just Lando, not a Formula 1 driver, not a public figure, just the boy you’d grown up with.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You were his best friend. The girl he’d been in love with since he was sixteen. The girl who deserved better than someone like him.

You looked up when the door clicked shut, your eyes immediately finding his in the dim light. “Finally,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “I was starting to think you’d sleep at the airport.”

Lando let out a breathless laugh, dropping his bag by the door. “Not sure I’d get much sleep there either.” He leaned against the wall, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I figured you’d be in a mood, so I let myself in.” You gestured to the half-empty bowl of soup on the coffee table. “I also raided your fridge. You really need to go grocery shopping.”

Lando shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “How’d you even get here?”

“I have a key, remember?” you said with a smirk. “And I used that thing called a car. Revolutionary, really.”

He rolled his eyes, but the warmth in his chest spread. You were always like this—casual, unbothered, always knowing exactly what he needed before he even realized it himself.

You stood and crossed the room, your smile fading as you got a closer look at him. “You look terrible,” you said, your voice dropping into that soft, concerned tone that always made his chest tighten.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“I mean it,” you said, tugging gently on the sleeve of his hoodie as if inspecting him. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“That’s because I haven’t,” he admitted.

You frowned, your eyes narrowing. “Lando...”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, though the hoarseness of his voice betrayed him.

“No, you’re not.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the couch. He let you, too tired to argue. “Sit. You need to eat something, drink something, and then sleep for about a year.”

He dropped onto the couch with a groan, sinking into the cushions. You draped a blanket over him before disappearing into the kitchen. He could hear you rummaging around, the sound of a kettle boiling, the clink of a spoon against a mug.

When you returned, you handed him a steaming cup of tea. “Drink,” you ordered, sitting beside him.

He took the cup and cradled it in his hands, the warmth seeping into his skin. He stared at the liquid for a moment before taking a small sip. It burned his tongue, but he didn’t care.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

“Do what?”

“Take care of me.”

You snorted. “Someone has to. God knows you’re useless at it.”

He looked up at you then, and the small smile on your face made his chest ache. “I mean it,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t have to... be here. I’ll be fine.”

You frowned, your brow furrowing in that way it always did when you were worried about him. “Of course I do,” you said softly. “You’re my best friend, Lando. Where else would I be?”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? You were always there. Always caring, always looking out for him, always steady and dependable. And he was... what? A mess. A guy who jumped from fling to fling, trying—and failing—to get you out of his head.

He knew what you thought of him. You’d never said it outright, but he could see it in the way you’d roll your eyes whenever you saw another headline about him with some random girl. You thought he wasn’t serious. That he couldn’t be serious. And maybe you were right. Maybe he wasn’t capable of being the kind of man you deserved.

“How was the race?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Bad,” he said simply.

“You want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, letting his head fall back against the couch. “Not really.”

You nodded, not pushing him. Instead, you shifted closer, your shoulder brushing against his. He felt your warmth seep into him, and for a moment, he let himself relax.

“Did you eat?” you asked after a while.

“Not really.”

You sighed and stood. “Stay here. I’ll heat up the rest of the soup.”

He watched as you disappeared into the kitchen, his chest tightening with every step you took. You were too good to him. Too good for him.

By the time you came back, holding a bowl of steaming soup, he’d convinced himself to push his feelings down again, to keep them buried where they couldn’t hurt you.

“Here,” you said, handing him the bowl. “Eat.”

He took the bowl and set it on his lap, picking up the spoon. “Thanks.”

You sat beside him again, watching as he ate in silence.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.

“I’m not babysitting you,” you said with a shrug. “I’m being a good friend.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re too good at it.”

You smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The only sounds were the clink of his spoon against the bowl and the faint hum of the TV.

“Lando,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked up at you, his heart skipping a beat at the way you were looking at him—like you could see right through him.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you said. “Whatever’s going on in your head... you don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. You always knew exactly what to say, exactly how to pull him back from the edge.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his.

And in that moment, he realized that no matter how much he tried to push you away, no matter how much he convinced himself that he didn’t deserve you, you would always be there.

And that terrified him more than anything.

Thank you for reading!

[aventurineswife]

Between Logic and Passion

Summary: You navigate the delicate balance between Kaveh's emotional idealism and Ratio's sharp intellect. Though they often clash, you help them realize how their shared passions make them stronger together. As the three of you reflect on your relationship, a quiet harmony settles over your lives, promising a future built on love, creativity, and understanding.

Tags: Kaveh x Reader x Ratio, Emotional Bonding, Found Family Dynamics, Mutual Pining to Domestic Fluff, Reader as the Emotional Anchor, Banter and Gentle Humor, Hurt/Comfort (Subtle).

Warnings: Light mentions of financial and emotional stress, Subtle references to self-doubt and overworking, Alcohol briefly alluded to (Kaveh’s coping mechanism, not depicted).

[Req by/inspo]

Kaveh had always been a whirlwind of emotion, while Ratio was a storm of intellect, a calculated force that could dismantle an argument with precision. You, however, had always seen how the two mirrored each other more than they would ever admit. Perhaps that was why you had found yourself at the center of their unusual, sometimes chaotic, yet undeniably tender relationship.

Tonight, you sat in the alcove of Kaveh's latest project—a breathtaking garden terrace filled with fragrant blossoms and intricate stonework. Ratio stood nearby, analyzing the structural integrity of a carved archway. Kaveh, by contrast, lounged on the soft cushions next to you, gesturing animatedly about his vision for the space.

“Can you believe he questioned my choice of materials?” Kaveh huffed, shooting Ratio a pointed look.

Ratio didn’t even glance up. “Marble is inefficient for the load-bearing pillars, given the humidity here. My calculations are sound.”

You smiled at their familiar banter, interrupting before it spiraled into another heated debate. “Both of you bring something unique to the table. Ratio, your precision ensures the structure lasts for centuries. And Kaveh, your artistry ensures people will remember it for just as long.”

Kaveh leaned closer to you, his eyes softening. “You always know how to make everything sound so balanced.” He paused, a teasing smirk creeping onto his face. “But let’s be honest, you’re on my side, right?”

Ratio finally turned his attention from the archway, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Don’t put them in the middle of this.”

You laughed, leaning back against the cushions. “I’m on our side. I’m just saying that both of your strengths work best when you complement each other.”

Kaveh tilted his head, his expression shifting to something more thoughtful. “You know, they’re right. As much as it pains me to admit it, your critiques do push me to do better, Ratio.”

Ratio’s lips curved into a faint smile. “And your emotional investment reminds me why these creations matter in the first place.”

It wasn’t often that the two of them shared such open affection, and it made your chest warm to see them acknowledge their similarities. Kaveh’s idealism and Ratio’s determination were two sides of the same coin—both driven by a deep passion for bettering the world in their own way.

As the night wore on, the three of you found yourselves huddled together, sharing quiet laughter and whispered musings about dreams and ambitions. Kaveh’s head rested on your shoulder, his golden hair soft against your cheek. Ratio sat on your other side, his arm draped over the back of the cushions, fingers brushing yours in a rare display of vulnerability.

You spoke softly, your words cutting through the gentle hum of the night. “The two of you are more alike than you realize. You both care deeply about leaving the world better than you found it—Kaveh with beauty, Ratio with knowledge.”

Kaveh chuckled, his voice low and warm. “And you, dearest, hold us together when we’d otherwise tear ourselves apart.”

Ratio’s hand briefly tightened over yours. “It’s true. Without you, I doubt either of us would have found the balance we needed.”

In that moment, the harmony between the three of you felt unshakable. As Kaveh drifted into a soft slumber against you, Ratio leaned closer, his steady gaze meeting yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “For understanding us.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “Always.”

The moonlit terrace seemed to shimmer with the quiet promise of a future where the three of you—so different, yet so deeply connected—would continue to build something extraordinary together.

[klausysworld]

Hello there. I hope you're doing well. I didn't notice if you were taking requests, but my birthday is on January 9th, and I wanted to ask for a birthday request. I want to request birthday smut with Klaus. I'll leave it up to you, but could you add being tied up, blindfolded, breeding kink, and maybe it results in pregnancy? I'll leave the plot up to you. If you could do this, it would be a great birthday present. If you can't, I understand.

Happy Birthday!!!

Sensual Night

Klaus had been trouble since the moment he'd woken me up. His hands had been sliding along the skin of my thighs all day, his fingers tapping on my flesh as he eyed me through his lashes.

"I assure you, after dinner you'll get your real present, love." He murmured, leaning down to kiss my lips deeply, his tongue swirling around mine and making me drunk on his taste.

I got a different gift each hour of the day, ranging from a teddy bear to a sapphire necklace.

We went out to dinner with the whole family, Elijah and Rebekah giving heartfelt speeches between courses. By dessert Klaus's hand had worked its way under the skirt of my dress, his long slender fingers toying with the lace of my underwear and occasionally brushing over my wetness as if to prove the affect he had on me.

One of his hand held the bag of presents from his siblings and the other had a firm grip on mine as he lead us toward the hotel he'd booked. The woman at the desk practically jumped out of her seat when she saw Klaus's face, immediately getting the penthouse key card and offering to carry the bag of gifts but Klaus refused and took me himself.

The 'room' was absolutely beautiful. A suitcase of our things was already up there, and Klaus had me by the hips.

"Your birthday is definitely not over yet, my love. Not even close." He grinned, such a cruel grin as he stepped forward, guiding my steps backward until my shins hit the edge of a bed.

"You've already given me so much." I whispered but I couldn't help the smile creeping on my lips.

"I'd give you anything and everything." He murmured, his voice so low it made me groan as he shoved me back, my back hitting the mattress with a soft thud. I bit my lip as I looked up at him, letting out a squeal when his body hovered over mine. His hands yanked his own shirt off before he bent down, his mouth grazing the skin of my neck.

Wet kissed marked down between my collar bone and his warm tongue wetted the skin of my breasts before his teeth got to work, one button at a time until the front of my dress was completely open.

"I might never get over how gorgeous you are." He groaned, his teeth tugging at the thin material of my bra. One harsh jerk of his head had the fabric tearing and leaving me completely vulnerable to his mouth.

My eyes closed, a soft sig leaving my lips when his tongue enveloped my nipple. I was already soaked from dinner, my nipples had been hard almost the entire day. My body finally receiving the attention only he could provide was making my cunt weep.

It wasn't long before his mouth swapped over to the other breast and his hands were dragging my panties off my ass.

Our eyes met as he lifted his head, his lips swollen as he stared down at me hungrily, that same hunger he held when he was about to devour some poor soul. My hand reached for his face, letting him nuzzle into my palm like an animal.

"I love you." I whispered and a soft rumble vibrated through his chest and to me.

"I love you more." He countered making me smile again.

Fingers wrapped around the length of my wrist, pulling my hand from his face. Those blush lips of his kissed the veins along my inner forearm before his other hand grabbed the other. Both my wrists were lifted above my head and he leant down to suck his possessive marks into my neck.

"I have a few more little gifts for you, sweetheart. Sit up." He ordered, getting off me and leaning off to the side of the bed. I pulled myself up like he asked, doing one better and resting on my knees. A second later a thin black box was placed in front of me, Klaus's blue eyes staring back at me with dark intent.

I fiddled with the lid, pulling it off and looking at the neatly folded, soft, pink strip of material inside. "It's silk." Klaus revealed as his hands lifted the fabric up and brought it just in front of my face. "Close your eyes, love." He instructed but his voice was soft. I nodded and let my lips shut, only a second later feeling the gentle touch across my skin. I tried to see a moment later but darkness kept me from doing so. I breathed slow, my hands reaching to feel Klaus and he chuckled softly. "Those hands are the next to go, my love." He purred against my ear causing a shiver to run along my spine.

"What- what do you mean?" I asked quietly despite my body already thrumming with excitement; I knew exactly what he meant.

"Don't play coy, love." He breathed, I could hear the smirk on his face. "Don't fight me, be a good girl and you'll be satisfied." He chuckled, his hand stroking the skin of my back. "Hands and knees."

I did as told, settling on all fours before both my wrists were grabbed again. My face hit the bed in front of me, a huff leaving me and I knew he was grinning.

"Good girl. Stay still." He murmured, his hands pushing my thighs apart so that I could feel how spread out I was for him.

Both my wrists were pulled together, the same fabric that was tied round my head now bound my hands together too. I felt my lower abdomen tighten pleasantly at the mere idea of what was to come. "Klaus..."

"I know." He mumbled, I felt his hot breath of the base of my spine before his lips pressed kissed the skin of my lower back, down my ass before his tongue licked a long strip through me from behind making my legs quiver and my body to jolt.

"Oh-" I gasped and he hummed, his mouth moving sensually against my pussy. "Klaus..." I panted, my mouth open and pressed against the bed. "Oh fuck!" I whimpered.

"Mmm, someone's needy on her birthday." His voice chuckled from behind me before my clit was trapped in a pool of heat. My knees slid further apart making him chuckle as I got lower to the bed. "You're making it hard to taste you, sweetheart."

"I can't-" I moaned, struggling as his fingers dug into my hips, lifting me back up. His hand pat the top of my ass gently before sliding up my back, his hand touching one of mine and squeezing gently.

"Listen to me, love. Tell me exactly what you can hear hm?" He directed and I did as he said. My senses focusing more as my sight was limited. I could hear him breathing, the soft rustle of the sheets. My own breathing was the loudest, the air was blowing against the bed in fast puffs.

"Just us, I hear us." I mumble, my brows pulling together under the silk blindfold. "Your- your breathing is so steady."

"No love, yours is just a mess." He chuckled, his hand squeezing my hip. "What do you smell?" He asked and I focused again.

"Your special occasion aftershave" I whispered and he laughed.

"Can't even remember the name?" He teased and I shook my head. "Even though you picked it for me? How peculiar. Don't worry, love, you won't forget my gift to you."

I smiled to myself, feeling his hands stroke my sides.

"Now tell me what you feel." He uttered and just as I opened my mouth I felt him there, right where I needed him, pushing into me.

"Ahh..." I shuddered and he let out a soft groan too.

My hands clenched, my wrists tugged at my restraints weakly as he pushed the first few inches in. The stretch was so beautifully familiar. One of his hands wrapped round both my wrists, pushing me down into the bed so my back was curved in.

"What was that, sweetheart?" He grunted and I resisted a whimper.

"You- I feel you." I whined and he pushed harder, my face squishing into the bed. "I- I feel a sting, but I like it." I uttered and he hummed.

"I know you do, you like being bound and helpless; don't you love?" He murmured darkly and I couldn't help but nod. He chuckled again as his hips rose against my ass, his hips making a soft 'clap' against mine. I felt myself tighten, holding onto him as he slowly sheathed in and out.

"Mm...Klaus" I moaned, clenching without control and his breathing started getting a little messier. The rhythm of him moving inside of me was making me borderline scream against the mattress I felt his hips stutter and I panted, smiling slightly into the bed. "Please..." I whispered. "Please"

"I know sweetheart. You want to feel me don't you, love?" He chuckled, his voice hoarse now. He knew what I wanted and I knew he loved it to. "Ready, love?" He grunted and I nodded eagerly. "Gonna fill you up-" He groaned and I arched deeper, feeling him snug against me.

"Babies..." I uttered. "Gonna get me pregnant this time, please?" I whimpered and he let out a guttural sound.

"Yes, sweetheart. That's right- that's it" He moaned, his hand squeezing my wrists so tight they burned. My whole body felt as though it had fallen apart as he came and my pussy pulsed at a constant speed until I could finally focus on something other than how my body felt.

I could hear Klaus panting, feel his warm breath against the back of my neck before he shifted. His body wasn't so close, I couldn't feel his skin stick against mine. But I could feel his cock leaving me, a weak cry leaving me as I felt myself ache without him.

The ribbon around my wrists went loose, my arms fell to my sides. My body was lifted and I was settled back down on my side, his body holding mine to his front. A moment passed before a cool wetness wiped over my thighs making me flinch slightly. "Shh, it's just a baby wipe, love." He murmured. I nodded in faint understanding, being less cautious as he finished cleaning me.

The blindfold was finally removed, my eyes squinting a little before I gained my sight fully and I could see him properly.

His lips pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, then my cheek and down to my lips. The warmth of his mouth was always so comforting, the feel of his lips on mine, tongue around mine. He pulled back after a few minutes, allowing me to suck in a breath.

"Happy birthday, my sweet love." He uttered and I smiled.

"Thank you, Klaus." I relaxed back, my head going back down onto the pillow beneath and he hummed.

"You need a break, love?" He asked, a slightly amused tone.

"We're still going?" I asked, looking up at him and feeling a little giddy.

"You think I'd leave you to sleep after that? It's your night all night."

"All night?"

"All night."

"Do you think...maybe..." I trailed and he hummed, kissing the corner of my lips.

"I promise to put a baby in you tonight, my love. You'll be swollen with child before morning."

Klaus never failed to impress, especially not on my birthday.

[scoutofmymind]

exLuigi x Reader. I want something juicy, queen!

Darkest Before Dawn — { Luigi x Reader }

Content: SFW, angst, bitter feelings, unrequited love, arguing, friends funeral, etc.

W.c: 3,236

Notes; A close friend of yours and Luigi’s passes, setting the stage for an untimely reunion in bitter circumstances — later facing the raw truth that sometimes it takes losing someone to find your way back to each other.

This turned a lil self indulgent for my need to get some angst out. I can’t help it. I love drama

The autumn wind carries leaves across your feet in lazy spirals, nature's own procession leading deeper into the cemetery. Your arm is linked with Maya's — she hasn't left your side since the news broke, and even now her grip tightens whenever your breath hitches.

The sea of black suits and dresses before you ebbs and flows like a dark tide, faces both familiar and strange blurring together through unshed tears.

Grief comes in waves.

One moment you're choking back laughter at Jamie's story about Olivia’s disastrous attempt at making tiramisu for your monthly dinner parties, the next you're biting your lip bloody to keep from sobbing when someone mentions how she used to be the most fun out of anyone to kayak with, rain or shine.

It shouldn't matter. Not today.

Not when Sarah's gone and everything feels simultaneously too sharp and too dull.

But your eyes keep betraying you, scanning the crowd between eulogies, during the hymns, through the quiet moments. Your ears strain past the murmur of condolences and shared memories, searching for that particular timber, that specific cadence that you'd know anywhere.

The laugh that used to rumble against your shoulder during lazy Sunday mornings, the voice that could fill a room without trying.

"He isn't here," Maya whispers, tracking your restless gaze as it sweeps the room for the thousandth time. "You can breathe." Her words are meant to comfort, but they settle like stones in your stomach.

Luigi didn't come.

You force yourself to accept this, to let your guard down as the ceremony begins.

The first notes of Olivia’s favorite Chopin nocturne float through the air, weaving between muffled sobs and shaky breaths. She'd played this piece herself, once, at your apartment's housewarming. Her fingers had stumbled over the keys of your secondhand piano, but her smile had been radiant.

The memory splits you open all over again, raw as that first night — the 3 AM phone call, the way your knees had hit the kitchen floor, how the world had tilted sideways and never quite righted itself.

And then, like a punch to the solar plexus, you see him.

Luigi.

Hovering in the back, looking like he's been assembled from broken parts. His hair is disheveled, his tie crooked, those warm brown eyes you once knew better than your own now bloodshot and hollow. He's swaying slightly, and you recognize the tells — one desperate cigarette on the drive over, black coffee clutched like a lifeline.

You've seen him hold himself together like this before, all fraying edges and stubborn pride.

Your fingers dig into Maya's arm, but you bite back the words. Let her think you're still alone in your grief.

It feels safer than acknowledging how your heart still recognizes his particular brand of falling apart.

You try to stay hidden in plain sight, but his presence is magnetic — always has been. That familiar electricity crawls up your spine each time his gaze finds you across the room. Even now, even here, his eyes carry that same concerned weight they did a year ago, like you're the one who needs saving.

You feel him everywhere, the way you always have, only now your carefully constructed walls have crumbled at the worst possible moment.

The reception becomes suffocating, all polite murmurs and half-finished sentences about how she's in a better place now.

You slip outside for air, and there he is — a portrait of barely contained grief on the church steps. His fingers work mechanically over Olivia’s AA coin, turning it over and over like a rosary whilst the cigarette between his lips burns dangerously close to the filter, more ash than purpose, as if he's forgotten it's there.

Something pulls you forward — muscle memory, perhaps, or maybe it's the voice in your ear, gentle but insistent: Sit with him. He needs you.

"She was so proud of this," Luigi murmurs, eyes fixed on the coin catching the dying light. The messages wear like prayers beneath his thumb — It's always darkest before the dawn, and One day at a time. The edges are smooth now from his constant fidgeting, as if he could somehow extract comfort from its worn surface.

Olivia had been more than just his neighbor — she was the thread that stitched your lives together.

You still remember her braces-filled grin when she introduced you at soccer team tryouts, convinced her two favorite people would hit it off. From there, it was a domino effect of shared milestones; friendship bracelets woven under summer stars, prom photos where Olivia pulled faces between you both, the three of you crammed into her ancient Volkswagen for driving lessons, and dorm room numbers exchanged like secrets.

And now here you sit, on opposite sides of a chasm she can no longer bridge.

Words feel inadequate, hollow in the face of such loss, so you stay silent. But your eyes betray you — they always did with him — filling with that mixture of concern and understanding that used to make him feel seen, now just makes him feel exposed.

"Oh," he groans, waving his free hand like he could physically brush away your gaze. "Don't fuckin' look at me like that — Please." The last word catches in his throat, raw and ragged, like it costs him something to say it.

You snap your gaze to the swaying trees, watching October paint its warning signs of winter across the landscape. Your spine straightens like a soldier at attention, fighting the tremor that threatens to shake loose more tears. "I just want to know you're okay."

Luigi's laugh is a broken thing, more wound than sound.

You feel his eyes boring into your profile, but you keep yours fixed on the dying leaves dancing in the wind. "A phone call would have been fine," he mutters, loading the chamber of your familiar game with practiced precision.

It's so perfectly Luigi — dropping emotional grenades at the worst possible moments, like he's testing if the blast radius of your shared pain has changed; you chamber your own round without missing a beat. "The phone works both ways," you fire back, the words carrying just enough bite to draw blood.

This is the dance you know best — this careful choreography of hurt, each of you taking turns to twist the knife a little deeper. It's muscle memory, really, born in the crucible of young love and forged in the fire of terrible timing.

The game never has a winner, just two people who loved each other so completely it became a fault line.

"I've got a lot on my plate," Luigi breathes, the words hanging as flimsy as tissue paper in the autumn air. His gaze burns into your temple with an intensity that's achingly familiar — that same scorching desperation you remember from late nights when his demons wouldn't let him sleep.

He's still that wounded boy underneath it all, wrestling with ghosts that never quite stopped haunting him.

"You don't think I do?" The words snap out before you can stop them, your head whipping around to meet his gaze head-on. His eyes are two bruised hollows, those warm brown irises you once wrote poetry about now floating in seas of red, crowned by shadows that speak of endless sleepless nights. "Yet I-" you gesture sharply at yourself, voice pitched low and razor-sharp, "had the fucking decency to show up on time."

The punch lands exactly where you aimed it, and you watch him flinch like you've slapped him.

It's a cheap shot, using his tardiness as a weapon, when you know damn well he probably spent hours just trying to make it out of his apartment.

But grief makes soldiers of us all, and today you're both armed to the teeth with things you shouldn't say.

Bang.

Luigi stared at you with those winter-dark eyes, and the world collapsed into a singular point of existence.

The distant traffic faded, the autumn wind stilled, even the harsh rays of the sun that peeked through the clouds hid behind them once again — leaving nothing but this moment, this breath, this unbearable weight between you.

You'd remember this look until your own dying day; the way his pupils dilated slightly, how his left eye still caught light differently, the precise shade of umber in his iris that you'd never quite managed to mix on your palette.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, but the words feel like ash in your mouth, too little and far too late.

You watch him fracture in real time, each carefully constructed wall crumbling like a condemned building, and somehow – impossibly – it only feeds the anger burning in your chest. "But just because I’m not an engineer doesn't mean my life is some cute little hobby. You don't have a monopoly on struggling, Lu."

Luigi recoils like you've struck a match against raw nerves, his entire body seeming to cave in on itself.

The cigarette, forgotten between his fingers, drops ash onto his pressed black slacks — the ones you know he probably spent an hour convincing himself to put on.

His jaw works silently, grinding teeth the way he always did when trying to swallow something too big to say.

"You think I-" he starts, then stops, pressing his thumb so hard into Olivia’s coin that his knuckle turns white. There's a violent tremble in his hands now, the kind that used to precede his worst panic attacks. "I couldn't-" Another false start, words crumbling like wet sand.

What he can't tell you is how he spent three hours this morning sitting in his parked car outside the church, chain-smoking through half a pack, trying to convince his legs to carry him inside.

How he threw up twice before leaving his apartment, the coffee and cigarettes his only defense against complete system shutdown.

How he's been sleeping on his couch because his bed feels foreign without late-night phone calls about recovery meetings and bad reality TV shows.

Instead, he just stares at you with those haunted eyes, and you see it then — the way he's holding himself together with safety pins and spite, one wrong word away from shattering completely.

I'm not okay. I haven't been okay.

His composure fractures further, a hairline crack spreading across carefully constructed walls.

The hand holding Olivia’s coin drops between his knees, dangling there like a surrender flag while his other hand rakes through his dark curls that haven’t seen proper care in days.

But you recognize the gesture — it's the same one from high school, when his father would show up drunk to soccer games, when college rejection letters came, when Olivia first went into rehab.

"You know what?" His voice comes out sandpaper-rough, caught somewhere between anger and anguish. "You're right. You're always fucking right." The words twist with something bitter, but the venom isn't meant for you — it never really was. "I should've been here earlier. Should've been there more. Should've-" He chokes on the rest.

The coin slips from his trembling fingers, pinging against the concrete steps. You both watch it spin, a dizzying dance of copper catching what little sunlight breaks through the clouds, before it settles face-up.

One day at a time stares up at you both, Sarah's mantra now a mockery — because how do you take it one day at a time when every day feels like drowning?

It’s always darkest before the dawn.

Luigi's shoulders shake with something that might be a laugh or might be a sob, with him, it's hard to tell the difference. "She called me, you know. Night before." His voice drops to barely a whisper, like he's sharing a secret he's been carrying around like a bullet in the chest. "I was busy. Said I'd call back in the morning."

"Lu,” Your voice cracks on his name, the anger from moments ago evaporating. You remember your own last conversation with Sarah — something trivial about a TV show she'd started binging.

How were either of you supposed to know it would be the last time?

"Don't." He cuts you off sharply, but his voice betrays him, wavering like it walked a tightrope. "Just — don't do that thing where you try to make it okay. It's not fucking okay." His hands are shaking so badly now that when he reaches for another cigarette, he drops the whole pack.

You reach for it automatically, and your fingers brush his as you both grab for it, making him jerk back like he's been burned, but not before you feel the cold clamminess of his skin. "When's the last time you ate something?" The question slips out before you can stop it, that old protective instinct rising up despite everything.

"Christ," he laughs. "You sound just like her. She used to-" He stops abruptly, swallowing hard. "She'd text me every morning. 'Did you eat breakfast?'" His voice trails off, and you watch him pick up her coin again, thumbing the worn edges.

"I have her last text," you offer quietly, pulling out your phone. "Want to see it?"

Luigi's head snaps up, eyes wide with something between terror and desperate need. "I-" he starts, then just nods, the simple movement seeming to cost him everything.

You pull up the message thread, trying to ignore how your hands aren't much steadier than his.

And there it is, timestamped 9:47 PM: “Found this stupid cat video, reminded me of that time at Lu’s when his cat jumped from the second floor onto the dinner table.. Miss you. We should do dinner soon.”

Luigi makes a sound like someone's just punched him in the stomach. "I can't- fuck," he breathes, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "She sent me some stupid meme. I didn't even open it. I was in the middle of a work call and I just — I thought I'd have time."

"We all did," you whisper, watching a leaf spiral down between you. "That's the whole point of recovery, isn't it? Having time to fix things."

"Yeah, well," his voice is razor-thin, "turns out time's a real bitch that way." He finally looks at you properly, and the raw devastation in his eyes makes your chest ache. "You know what the worst part is? I kept the voicemail. Her last one. Haven't listened to it yet. I can’t -“

Your breath catches. "Do you want to? Now?" The raw and desperate need to hear her voice in something that isn’t a stupid video on your phone claws at you. "Together, I mean."

Luigi's hand tightens around Olivia’s coin until his knuckles go white again.

For a moment, you think he's going to say no, going to retreat back behind those walls he's spent years perfecting. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nods.

He fumbles with his phone, hands shaking so badly you have to help him hit speaker.

For a moment, there's just static, and then — her voice fills the space between you, bright and clear and so achingly alive it feels like being gutted.

“Hey, Lu. I know it's late, but... I've been thinking. About you and-" A pause, a soft laugh. “God, you're both so stupid sometimes, you know that? Life's too short to keep playing this dance. I see how you look at those old shitty Polaroids, how you both light up when I mention the other. Pride's a killer too, trust me on that one. I learned it the hard way."

Your hand reaches for Luigi’s, his grip crushing.

“Remember that time freshman year, after the accident? How you both stayed with me for two weeks straight, taking shifts so I was never alone? That's- that's what love looks like. Real love. And you idiots still have it, you're just too scared to admit it. So consider this your intervention." Another laugh, softer now. Sounds like she’s moving about her apartment, completing nightly tasks and having called Luigi to chat before bed. “Call me back when you get this. We'll figure it out together. Love you, dumb fuck.”

The message ends.

Luigi's breathing has gone ragged, each inhale sounding like it's being dragged across broken glass. "She knew," he whispers. "She always fucking knew."

"Lu-" you start, but your voice fails you. Because what can you say? That Olivia was right? That you've spent almost an entire year pretending not to miss him like a phantom limb? That sometimes you still reach for your phone to tell him about your day before remembering you're not supposed to anymore?

"I can't-" he sucked in a ragged breath, “I can't lose you both. I can't-"

"Hey," you say softly, your thumb unconsciously tracing circles on his palm. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He makes a sound that's half-laugh, half-sob, his free hand coming up to cover his face, but not before you see the tears finally breaking free. "Last time I saw her, she made me promise we'd all have dinner together. Said she was tired of splitting holidays, of pretending we weren't all still family just because you and I couldn't -" He trails off, his shoulder shrugging as he groans, tilting his head back to unclog his nose and stuff the tears back where they belong.

"Because we couldn't get out of our own way," you finish. The truth of it sits heavy in your chest, all the wasted time, all the stubborn silence. "God, we're fucking idiots."

"She used to call me every Sunday, you know? Just to ask if I'd talked to you yet.” Another sniffle rips through him, “Every damn Sunday for almost a whole year."

You let out a wet laugh. "She did the same to me. Every Wednesday, like clockwork. 'Have you called Lu yet?' 'No, Liv.' 'Well, why the hell not?'"

"Sounds like her." Luigi's voice goes soft, fond despite the pain. His hand is still in yours, warm and familiar and terrifying.

The silence that follows feels different somehow — less like a wall and more like a bridge.

Olivia’s coin catches the light between you again.

One day at a time.

"So," you say finally, squeezing his hand. "What do we do now?"

“Well -we - we honor her, right?" Luigi looks to you again, his voice stronger despite the tremor in his hands. "Not just with words or - like - memories." He looks down at your intertwined fingers, then back up to your face with a vulnerability that makes your chest ache. "But by fucking stopping this war of attrition we've been fighting since-“

"Since the goddamn gallery opening," you finish softly. That night hangs between you — the argument that started as something small ended with eleven months of radio silence. "When you said my art was just a-“

"I never meant it," he cuts in, voice raw. "I was terrified, watching you risk everything while I played it safe. You were so brave, and I was-“ He draws a shaking breath. "I was a coward who took it out on you instead of admitting I hated my own choices."

"We can't get the time back," you say gently, watching his thumb brush over your knuckles this time instead of the coin. "But maybe,” You pause. "Maybe we can stop fuckin’ wasting what we have left."

[writingwisterias]

Bonding

Vendetta! Leon Kennedy x Winters!Medic!Reader

Warnings: Slight Angst, Injuries, Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, Bonding, trauma sharing, Age-Gap, Platonic relationship

Summary: After helping your brother find his wife you get left with unusual abilities, ones that often feel like a burden than a gift...until shit happens and you both end up healing each other in more ways than one.

Words: 2.3k

Requested by @misswynters I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took so long, I was fighting this story trying to get it right! <3

As if it wasn’t already bad enough that he had a partner on this mission, it was made worse that it was supposedly one of the BSSA’s best. He scoffed at the files, they gave him the ones he had now thrown on the table and already forgotten about. Not that he needed it as he already predicted who would be joining him. The glass of whiskey was already half empty as he was working his way through the bottle, they hadn’t even set off yet. The agent was late, or he was just really early for once. Leon shut his eyes preparing himself for the ridicule he would receive when Chris, the agent he had presumed would be the one they sent to join him, the one that would eventually thump his way onto the plane. The man wouldn’t know how to be stealthy even if took a course on it. However, his ears picked up the sound of light footsteps on the metal stairs into the plane. His eyes peeled open as he trained them on the plane entrance. Curiosity coursed through his veins. What he didn’t expect was you. 

A younger girl, one that must have joined more recently. How was she one of their best? It looked like shes never been on a mission on her own. 

You watched as his eyes narrowed at the sight of you, clearly trying to figure out who you were and how you were possibly one of the best. A poor attempt to pinpoint your story. You didn’t fail to notice the discarded file or glass of the infamous amber liquid. If he had read it, he would have got all the answers he was currently peering at you for. Chris had warned you after all about the behaviour of the man in front of you. It was your first mission alone and according to the burly man it wouldn’t be a challenge of the enemies but of the partner you had been promised. “You must be Leon Kennedy” You spoke, holding your hand out to him. Leon studied it like you had some hidden message etched within your skin. To him they looked too clean, too pure. There were no scars or texture to them. “You are?” 

His voice was rough, and croaky from the burning liquid that warmed his insides so early in the morning. Your name shocked him but the last name piqued his curiosity. “Winters eh?” he repeated, trying to recall the significance with his dazed mind. This was the professional government agent you were promised? The best of the best? You cleared your throat sitting in the chair opposite him, a small apology leaving your lips as you bumped his knee. You already seemed too kind for this job or at least too new to it, if only he could remember why your name was familiar. “Well, it’s clear someone didn’t do their homework. I’m the sister to Ethan Winters…The baker house incident” You spoke. He didn’t fail to notice the nervous shaking of your hands, guilt coursing through him as he clearly made you relive whatever you had gone through. BSSA twat or not, no one needed to be haunted like that. “Right - I heard about your case. Your brother went looking for his wife and you ended up in a whirlwind of shit” 

Of course, Leon couldn’t be kind, he didn’t see it in his nature anymore. All he had to do was shut up, just like you were doing as you turned to face the window. There was no need to pick holes as to why you got involved in this line of work, it's not like his start was any better. A promise to work for someone else's protection only for that girl to end up like him anyway. A government pawn. 

Your head leaned against the cabin walls as you watched the plane take off. You ignored his remark, his ignorance of your past and wrongdoings was a reflection on him, not you. After all, you didn’t have to go and help Ethan find his wife. Only for the two of you to end up in that house of nightmares, to then witness a poor family wrongfully affected. Sure Leon has seen some shit, but a family just wanting to help an innocent woman and being infected with the same thing that coursed through your veins. Their minds twisted and turned as they attempted to kill you, their bodies forced to change to adapt to new horrors.

Ethan and you were given military training after that, along with the option to join the BSSA. You didn’t hate Ethan’s choice to continue his family life with Mia, taking the training and using it to protect her if he needed it. Part of you wanted to do the same but ever since you knew the truth, the fact that the virus now ran throughout your body whether you wanted it or not. It felt wrong to try and find someone new in the world, someone who would understand your position and what you did or have seen. You had accepted it… the fact you were forever infected with this taint. The loneliness it brought along with it was harder to stomach. That was until the mould changed you, your hands suddenly more useful to them than hiding. 

From what you had heard Leon was a pretty respected agent, how you didn’t understand. His attitude only grew the more he drank during the flight. The important document still left unread is now being used as a placemat for his drink. The brown folder now gathers a formation of rings. “What makes you so special then?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any abnormalities. You shrugged. Never really have an answer to that, you can heal yourself and others but that doesn't make you feel special. It felt more like a burden. “I guess I just have more than enough knowledge and experience on whatever we are going to be dealing with” You answered. Leon didn’t respond so you took his silence as the sign the conversation was over. Your gaze lingered on him for a while longer until you finally turned to watch the plane fly amongst the clouds watching as the ground got closer now you had both reached the destination. 

Your footsteps echoed down the darkened corridor, your flashlights barely illuminating anything in front of you. The building groaned upon your arrival, the wind working its way through the cracks. The abandoned warehouse had rumours of lingering scientists working on something, the usual deal from what Leon had to say about it when you both opened the front door.   “One day I’m sure a super evil scientist will not pick a decrypted building as their place to do their experiments” You joked. A small chuckle left Leon’s lips as he glanced over at you; amusement lacing his eyes. “It wouldn't be half as fun then” he responded. The atmosphere changed between the two of you the further you entered, the once clipped and cautious words grew warmer and longer. You had both found comfort in each other's presence, a silence falling over the both of you that never quite felt awkward. Your minds worked in sync as you both cleared out the rooms, working your way further and lower into the building. That was until distant explosions went off and the two of you fell to the floor. 

You vaguely acknowledged Leon's scream of pain, the ceilings collapsing making the room dark as the rubble caged you both in. “Fuck” Leon groaned as he grasped at his leg. Your coughs rattled as you took in the clouds of dust, “you good?”. It was a stupid question really, his scream and groans of pain indicated anything but that. You scrambled for the flashlight on your belt to try and light up the space as well as hitting the emergency button sending your signal to nearby backup. The flashlight didn’t do much but it allowed you to spot Leon on the floor, clutching at his leg. You didn't have much space to work with, your hands hurt as you pressed on the ground crawling towards him. The gravel biting into your skin. “Leon? What is it?” You asked when you finally reached him, flashlight in hand. You didn't need him to answer as you had already spotted the red seeping out between his fingers. The flow didn't look like it would stop anytime soon. “Fuck” he groaned again. 

Your hands shook as they hovered over his own, your fingers gently prying his hands away from the wound to get a better look. It was bad, too bad for you to just do a quick fix and wait until you both got rescued. The rubble that was still settling around you both would probably end up infecting it. He hissed in pain as you held your hands on his wounds, you focused on it - working on stitching it back together. Leon watched as you worked, his brain trying to grasp what was even happening. “What the fuck” he muttered under his breath as your hands pulled away. His own replaced yours once again, feeling the stitched skin. There was no scar, no lingering reminder of this unfortunate event left on his skin. “How?” He questioned. 

You sat back against the rubble behind you, your knees clutched tightly to your chest to give him some more room. He watched you shrink into yourself. You looked so small, so young. Too young to be brought into a job like this, to see the things you must have seen. It reminded him of himself, the young cop who was thrown into the deep end when he just tried to help people. “When I went to help my brother…in the baker's house…we both got infected. He can just heal himself, you should have seen the injuries he's had” you explained. He could hear the weak chuckle in your words, trying to make light of a decision to help your brother. One that changed your life. “And you? What happened to you during it?” 

“Ethan protected me from most of what happened, he's got a baby on the way from what he told me in our last phone call. I ended up leaving with the ability to heal others as well as myself…it's tiring, and traumatizing at times- the injuries I've seen are something else. But Chris said the BSSA could use someone like me. So I joined” 

Leon studied you further, his eyes piercing in the dim light of the flashlight. He could understand how you felt. You had been given an opportunity, something that would make you feel like you were doing some good. Only to forever try and shoulder the effects of the lifestyle change. “After Raccoon City I was forced to become an agent. To use my pure luck and train it into my skill set today. Despite the conversation, it never really felt like I had a choice, an option for what I wanted to do. It was blackmail” 

You didn't expect him to explain his own story, to open up in an attempt you assumed was to make you feel like you weren't alone in this world. You untucked yourself slightly, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by Leon. His small smile was proof of that. “Some shitty life this is. Does it ever stop feeling so lonely? Like how do you explain this to someone? To people you want to be friends with or have in your life. I pushed everyone I knew before away because I just couldn’t explain it.” you asked him. 

You were as shocked as Leon was that you had begun to confide in him. He assumed these were the types of conversations you would have with Chris or your brother. Yet, Ethan was married his whole seemingly working out okay and Chris had always been a lone wolf as of late. Consulting only with close friends with experiences similar to his own. Leon supposed he did the same, that’s why he had only spoken to Chris, Claire or anyone else he’d met over the years. You didn’t have that, you had only just begun and ended up trapped under rubble without even finding the scientist. To you this mission was a failure; to Leon, it was just beginners luck, no one ever had a good first day alone in this line of work. “I guess you don't, the people I've spoken to have similar experiences I guess, or at least are connected to the job. I’ve never fully felt like I had a friend”  He answered, scooting closer to you. You sighed at the tiny bit of contact as his shoulder brushed you, almost a reminder that you were still human and not some monster your head constantly told you. You have seen what the mould could do, how it changed people's minds…corrupted them.“I’m sorry we just met, I didn’t mean to just dump this on you” 

“I asked, didn’t I? About your past, how you ended up here” 

You supposed he did, it wasn’t unprompted. Despite his tough exterior, something told you deep down he wasn’t always like this. Despite all the pain and trauma he either hid inside himself or washed away with an alcohol of his choice; he still wanted to help people. To make sure that the person he was talking to wasn’t alone. “Besides, I’d rather be trapped in here with you than Chris. At least I have more leg room” 

Your laugh was sweet, lighter than the look that permeated your face since you had met him. It suited you. “I suppose you are better company than Chris, with his smoking habit I’d have probably suffocated with second-hand smoke” 

Leon smiled as you opened up, as the knees lowered from your chest, lining up with his own. His froze as your head hit his shoulder, unused to the contact after being alone for so long (by his own choice). Leon laid his head on yours, the both of you silently leaning on each other as you remained trapped by your pasts, the futures uncertain. “You don’t happen to know how to make shadow puppets do you?” 

[theflopwonder]

I THINK ABOUT THIS ALLL OF THE TIMEEEEEEEE.

(also teehee i will be using this as an excuse to discuss what realistic racial dynamics in Gotham would look like bc I am a black new jersyian, which isn’t the point of this post but it activated my ranting chip, and is going to mirror a lot of what op says)

The thing that a lot of comic writers like to skimp over, unless it's to perpetuate harmful stereotypes, is that disenfranchised neighborhoods, particularly in the inner city, where Batman's work is initially concentrated, especially in the early years, are usually overwhelmingly populated by black and brown people. Historically, for black people specifically, this is because of a Great Migration period during Jim Crow where black folks would come up to the more industrialized north for increased job opportunities and less racism. This is why Newark, NJ has such a high African-American population to this day, it was one of the hotspots.

As a black person who has lived in both NJ suburbs and its inner cities, inner city gothamites would not like Batman for a long ass time, if at all. Why? A lot of comics will focus on Batman stopping a drug deal or a gang member, but do nothing to address the socioeconomic conditions, or demonstrate cultural competency in portraying these neighborhoods' relationship to drug dealing, drug addicts, gang affiliation, and organization, which is often very morally complex, and SURE AS HELL doesn't consider their relationships to police forces or assumes that the power dynamic is shifted in favor of the black and brown inner-city neighborhoods, rendering the cops useless and letting crime prevail which is even WORSE and just blatantly untrue.

OR They just take on a paternalistic view of "these neighborhoods and the people in them need to be saved from themselves". So they have this white man swoop in and save the day and everybody in the neighborhood is just supposed to love him, while the uptight politicians are the ones who have the criticism so you, as the viewer, will already have the seeds of hate planted so you feel vindicated when they are revealed as corrupt and THAT'S the real reason they hate Batman.

In the beginning, Batman will be seen as someone who contributes to the prison industrial complex. He is not helping the citizens of Gotham, he is just a cop. He is a symbol of another white man wreaking havoc on a predominately black neighborhood, and the police won't do anything to stop him. This will even be exacerbated by him beginning to work with the police. If Batman wants to be looked upon fondly by the people he is supposedly helping, he's going to have to acknowledge the racial divide between uptown and downtown Gothamites. He is going to have to WORK for his respect and understand the reasons why he, as Batman, may never get it

(my headcannon is that No Man's Land is when the perspectives of BOTH Bruce Wayne and Batman's reputations turned into net positives. For Bruce it was going to Congress and being the only one to fight directly for them, [as one of the major points of NML was how unfair it was to poor people]. For Batman, it's that when he couldn't get the kids left in NML out of the city, he stayed and protected them anyway. He didn't just go running off like everybody else [even tho he technically did, but y'know, they don't know that), and leave them stranded and alone? That's worthy of respect to them.)

Now if I was too apply ALL OF THIS to Red Hood ... the one shred of hope of black and brown citizens of Gotham would have is that Batman does not use lethal force. He will ruff up our people, break an arm or a leg or a nose, but he will not gun them down. He will not use lethal force. They will not lose their lives. He will let them see another day. And if they see another day, then they have the possibility to do better, and THAT is where Batman and the people of Gotham's hood will be able to find common ground and coexist with each other.

That is completely gone when Red Hood enters the scene.

No, people in the Gotham's hood would not like Red Hood, he would just make things worse. Way worse. He would be the actuality of what everyone feared about Batman. He would ruin a decade's worth of work that Batman put in trying to fix his reputation within these neighborhoods.

You only understand that when you understand black and brown people's relationship with law enforcement.

They will mistake black and brown mothers telling their children to be inside before the streetlights come on as "lower crime rates" and would they be correct? On the surface, sure. But it wouldn't be because of anything productive, it would be because you have successfully scared an entire neighborhood into complacency. You've essentially put them under unofficial marital law dictated by a myth and justified it by saying "Well Batman only scares people who need to be scared,"

(They do this in Batman v Superman, very blatantly, and with a Black woman saying it verbatim, and it's ... it's an interesting choice, I go back and forth on how I feel about it considering the timeline conditions but for now I digress).

I'd even go as far as to argue that the ONLY people who would like Batman as a concept from jump are non-black people in the suburbs. Batman is the type of idea that allows white people to have a conscious spa day, to offer up a simple solution to a complex problem so they don't have to do any deeper thinking about it. He is the whitest of the white savior concepts. Oh he's getting those drug dealers off the street? Thank god, they'll keep that fentanyl away from our promising young and precious suburban kids.

However, once Bruce Wayne began announcing all of these initiatives to help poor people, despite this being the thing that would be what make the crime rates go down and stay down, it also resulted in black and brown people ascending in socioeconomic status oh..... now those kids from the hood are going to be moving into our good schools.... they're going to corrupt our children and expose them to guns and drugs and gangs OH NO! NOT MY GOTHAM!

Semi-Anecdotally and Semi-Historically: This happens a lot in NJ & NY. Speaking for NJ, this happens a lot with kids in inner cities like Newark, who will move downwards to places like Plainfield, and then Plainfield becomes essentially segregated in everything but schools, and people will worry that those "Newark Gangsters" will corrupt their kids, so they move them down further into suburbia to like ... Edison, or Piscataway, where high housing is enough to keep people out. Then they begin defunding Plainfield schools, and stationing Plainfield cops in black parts of town until they decide to gentrify the neighborhood again.

(This is also why you shouldn't listen to people who question why people still live in Gotham. At one point, Camden was one of the most dangerous cities in the world. It is also a college town. Newark is still not a very safe place to live. It is ALSO technically a college town)

Canon-Wise, let's look at Robin issues 25 & 26 (my detested) where a storyline about bringing guns to school has one of Tim's classmates say this verbatim.

He ends up losing his life to a black student via gunshot. It’s framed as ambiguous but to me there’s an obvious reason why this escalated LMFAO don't put your hands on people in a school hallway.

Despite the fact that both kids pull out a gun at the exact same time, and shoot the exact same amount of bullets, who do you think gets more sympathy from both Tim and from the narrative altogether?

Whose motives are positioned as higher in moral value?

Who’s motives are ever even considered?

Who is Tim allowed to lecture gently, vs who is he and Bruce allowed to hunt down, scare, and capture?

This story is allowed to have emotional weight for Tim because he knows Karl. It deliberately attempts to make the reader lose sympathy for Young El because they attach him to a gang.

Batman does make a point to mention that it just easily could’ve been Young-El that died, but it only positions Karl as the only who “doesn’t understand his choice”. They’re the same age. Both high school students. Could it not also be argued that Young El’s situation is worse because he is being exploited by a gang, that is also taking advantage of the fact that he does not fully comprehend the choices that he makes? Or does that only apply to poor former bully jock Karl Ranck.

Let’s also unpack that subtle but glaring racism.

1. The immediate assumption that Young-El will re-offend is racist. Although Tim says it directly, Bruce also indirectly agrees, (conditionally to prop up the "usefulness" of Batman). Was Young El the first person to say it? Sure, but that's just more racism being perpetuated by the narrative because it's not being done to try to make the reader understand black and brown people's relationship to the incarceration system and why recidivism commonly happens, it's meant to portray Young El as a mouthy kid resisting arrest for a crime he committed.

It offers no sympathy towards him even though he is just as much a pawn in the city’s corruption as any other child that falls into a gang. If anything this should be more incentive to y’know … make sure he has help upon release but hey what do I know?

2. This moment, specifically:

If we are analyzing this keeping in mind that Young El does not know who Robin is, but can fully hear this statement being made towards him, ABOUT HIM, in this context that means this can now be considered a VERY racist micro-aggression being aimed towards him. To even hit on the point of each citizen preferring a different vigilante, this is now a reason that Robin's reputation is in the negatives. If I can't count on you to arrest me without being subjected to what can easily be taken as a racial microaggression (because again, he doesn't know who Tim is, or his relationship to this crime and it is unrealistic to expect him to, all he knows is that this white kid is arresting him and telling him that he's essentially too stupid to understand him, which is reinforcing a racial power dynamic) there is now nothing separating you from a regular degular cop.

3. The idea that the fear of seeing Batman will be enough for Young El to not re-offend is racism. That’s not hope for someone's future, that's a form of oppression and is AGAIN fueled by the narrative’s refusal to extend any sympathy to Young El. Telling black and brown citizens that "beyond the law and the courts" (that have historically tried to eradicate us btw) there is …. More fear? More reason to be afraid of the world? And then you wanna end the comic talking about some damn PEACE?????? PEACE FOR WHO???????

Also Bruce’s smile in that panel about scaring Young El … that’s amusing to you? Scaring high school kids that you’re supposed to help? That’s how you want Batman to be “useful”? High school children being exploited by gangs are the people that are supposed to be afraid of the Batman? Oh that’s not… anyway.

In the panel before that one, THEY'RE STILL pointing guns at Young El and the gang, despite the fact that if they are being detained they have already been frisked and had their weapons taken away already.

Sure you can argue that this is less a Batman problem and more reflection of how this actually happens in real life, but idk if I’m writing a story where a deliberate point is made that my protagonists don’t use lethal force … but then they disappear on top of a building and watch as these children and adult gang members are submitting under the threat of lethal force, despite having no weapons no drugs and no way of escape …. you see the problem here?

Hate this mini-arc sooooooo bad. even tho I do think about it a lot when thinking about Tim's relationship with school violence. it's a watershed moment for him and so important to his development, but it's also racist as fuck.

I SAY ALL OF THIS TO SAY. There's a lot of this bullshit that basked into comics, hell, into Batman's very conception that makes it easy to fly over people's heads. I'm sympathetic to it, I first read Robin when I was 15. A LOT of shit was flying over my head. But I do encourage you all to approach these stories with a more critical eye, as they can and do help deepen your understanding of these characters.

And let’s be honest— modern ideas of crime are intrinsically tied to American racial ideologies (the modern American inception of cops is deliberately based on slave catchers). Without considering that nuance, Batman (and definitely Red Hood) can very quickly become another layer of fear and control rather than people who are truly trying to help these neighborhoods thrive.

I know we tend to roll our eyes at "Batman beats up poor people and mentally ill!!!" takes cuz most of the time they're ridiculous and said by people who do not interact with canon but like ... the idea that one person's savior is another person's boogieman is very true, and NOT ALWAYS GOOD, especially if we are considering the usefulness of an american Batman, who is not exempt from american racial dynamics, which very obviously exist in his fictional Gotham, even if subtextually through speech, through drawing, through panel sequencing, etc. Batman is a fantasy, but his lasting power as a character is fundamentally dependent on how well of a reflection he is of real life, and THIS would be the real-life makeup of a real-life Gotham City. I spend a lot of this post critiquing, but I still love these characters, and it's because I love them, that these dynamics are so interesting to explore.

Anyway rant over, I probably did a shit job at convincing y'all but if you made it to the end of this long-ass post, YES PLEASE. EVERYBODY, PLEASE READ CANON.

You know what I've realized these past several months on Tumblr and just...years of consuming content?

It's pretty rare for the fandom to acknowledge Gotham as a city. A real, living city with people in it. Like, sure we always get cutesy posts about Batman or the others from outside perspectives or fics that include interesting ocs (I love u if you do that btw).

But what I mean isn't that. What I mean is: does anyone think of Gotham and its citizens as actual people? Because I've sure seen kind of the opposite.

I see constant arguments or heavily biased (mostly misinformed) posts regarding what Bruce does and how the Batman helps the city. That his riches would get lost in corruption and no one can save the city unless there's violence. You could try and make the argument, sure. But we've seen time and time again in comics that Bruce uses his money to the benefit of the city. We've seen in comics that he employs people who are disadvantaged and gives them opportunities. People know Bruce Wayne gives jobs and treats his employees well. He donates heavily to charities, creates his own organizations, funds Leslie Thompkin's clinic, and consistently updates the safety of his own buildings. People (at least post-Crisis) would know that Bruce Wayne did everything he could to save Gotham after the Cataclysm earthquake/No Man's Land - that he went up against Congress. Of course, not everyone would like Batman. Not everyone would trust the Wayne name. They'd see a stranger who prowls nightly and may or may not rescue you. They'd see the privilege of an old rich name who gets to exert his influence over the city. If you go to him for help, you go to him with the fear, and anticipation of rejection or with the knowledge that he will be safe.

I've also seen the (imo) ridiculous notion that Crime Alley citizens would trust the Red Hood. Maybe some would now, after the reboots and actual comic book evidence that he's doing something. But I cannot fathom living in a city with such heavy crimes occurring and then trusting what is essentially a cop. People don't know the Red Hood. They don't know Jason Todd. They would only know: 1. he has tried and succeeded various times to take over organized crime and drug routes 2. he can and will kill if he sees it fit. In some people's eyes, he would be a cop with even less judicial oversight. In some families, he would be the killer of their breadwinner, of their fathers or family members or lovers. A man with a gun. Eyes without a face. If you go to him for help, you go to him for blood.

This doesn't even begin to lay out the insane amount of vigilantes who live/operate in Gotham. The Batman is not the only figure. The Red Hood is not the only figure. If you boil down Gotham to only the conflict between these two characters, you miss the nuances and varied opinions of the city by miles. If you boil down Gotham to just Batman-affiliates, you miss even more.

For every person who doesn't trust Batman, there's someone who'd prefer Huntress. For every child who lives in fear but can't trust an adult, there's Robin or Batgirl. For an abused woman, there's other women out there who help: Catwoman or Black Canary or Holly Robinson. There's people who'd never trust a vigilante but want safety, they'd have Leslie Thompkins (who operates in Crime Alley) or Lucius Fox who could give them a job.

Not to mention, Batman is very obviously white. There would be some people who would rightfully mistrust white men, and would prefer figures like Orpheus or Onyx or Batwing or the Signal or Huntress (post-N52). There's the Creeper, who would be terrifying but some might prefer the monster over the man. There's Ragman, an explicitly Jewish vigilante who was literally called the Tatterdemalion of the Oppressed and trusted by the poor and homeless. There's Batwoman, Mother Panic, Spoiler, Nightwing, Red Robin, Azrael, Bluebird, the enigmatic idea of the Oracle, Anarky, Ghostmaker, Gotham Girl/Boy, Catman, Alan Scott-Green Lantern, Wildcat.

Hell, maybe someone who lives in Gotham would just straight up trust Superman or the Flash or Wonder Woman more than anyone else. Maybe they'd never once trust someone acting for a perceived view of justice and would just trust an employer like Two-Face or the Riddler or any mobster.

I'm stressing my point here: when you write anyone who lives in Gotham City, keep in mind that they don't know they live in a comic book world. Secret identities are foreign to them, they only know the base actions of each vigilante. Each person's opinion will heavily vary. Every experience colors their view of the city and vigilantes as a whole. Just, idk, widen your horizons and consider about what someone living in a place like Gotham would really think.

To that end, read the comics!!! Research actual cities!!! Take in experiences and history!!! It's all interesting and just adds so much more.

You want one comic that shows Bruce helping Gotham and the various views of Gothamites, read Gotham Knights #32, published in 2002 and titled "24/7." Read it online illegally if you have to!!

[wonupatootie]

SVT Social Media AU Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part III

쉬는 날인데 넌 뭐해 생각 있음 나와 놀래~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II // Part III

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

Choi Seungcheol

“The Way Back” by @suhnshinehaos

Gn!reader || rapper x actor, angst, fluff, some humour || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･fans reminisce on your relationship with seungcheol

Kwon Soonyoung

“Let Me Hear You Say” by @cherrycheolliesc

Fem!reader || YouTuber au, friends to enemies to lovers, comedy, angst, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･after not seeing each other for years, Yn is ecstatic when she finds out all of her friends will finally be in the same place at one time. but unfortunately an unwanted situation turns a 12 year friendship into hateful relationship between yn and soonyoung. as things grow sour between them, their group gets tired of it and tries to fix things.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Roomie” by @zo-byeol

Fem!reader || roommates au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･kwon soonyoung and his friends need a roommate. (y/n) just got evicted. It sounds simple enough, but really, is anything ever simple?

Jeon Wonwoo

“To My Youth” by @viastro

Fem!reader || love alarm inspired au, slice of life, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

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“Back To You” by @seventeensmaus

Fem!reader || brother's best friend, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･y/n and mingyu are twins. they are pretty much inseparable along with their childhood friend seungcheol. the three live together in an apartment. y/n has never met mingyu’s friends. that is until one day she finally does and sees someone from her past.

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“Clueless” by @hanniedream

Coworker au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Wonwoo and you are were both oblivious idiots.

Lee Seokmin

“Sunshine and Sunflowers” by @shuastruck

Fem!reader || college au, sort of childhood friends to lovers, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when you entered college, the last thing you expected was to see your childhood friend lee seokmin in a sea of unknown faces. but just as you had expected, he didn't even remember you in the slightest. you didn't blame him; he had moved away in first grade and how many people remembered their best friend from kindergarten? but that didn't stop you from falling for his cute smile and sweet personality, so now you were stuck in love with a boy who barely knew your existence.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“We Have Chemistry” by @seungcy

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being a biology major was difficult enough along with juggling an internship at a hospital. So how about adding some cute guys to your internship to spice it up a bit? Can you balance it out?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“What Is Love?” by @cupidhaos

High school au, cupid au, past life au, fantasy, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seokmin never expected to fall in love with a human - especially one that was supposed to be with somebody else

Chwe Hansol

“Two Minus One” by @twogyuu

Fem!reader || uni/recent college grads au, strangers to lovers, fluff, crack || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･What’s a better way to find love in the modern day than through dating apps? Eight months after his breakup with his long-time girlfriend, Vernon is finally ready for the dating scene once more - or so he thought. Finding the new game of love more challenging than he remembered, he reaches out to you, Chan’s best friend and legendary wing woman, for help.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Lie Again” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || idol au, soulmate au, fluff, humour, slight angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a world in which various types of the soulmate system apply, you just so happen to have one that is completely stupid; being able to hear what your soulmate thinks of. however, when your soulmate hums a certain tune, you cant seem to get it out of your head.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“花樣年華 : HYYH : Golden Years” by @sw1mmingfoolz

Fem!reader || college au, eventual roommates, angst, fluff, slowburn || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when vernon and y/n realise their partners are cheating with each other, they strike up an unlikely friendship trying to figure out how it all began.

Unspecified Endgame

“Feverish Lips” by @sunlightwoo

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you’d think that because it’s the first semester of the year, it’d be like the beginning of a roller coaster when its slowly becoming climatic and stressful. however, once you’re at the top of the point you have two choices: scream your lungs or quickly hang onto your life support. sadly in your case, you can either suck it up and get through it, or get involved in its loops in tangles with trouble that is bound to be met within every corner that you turn to.

⤷“Louder Than Bombs” (Part 2 of feverish lips)

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the past semester of your senior year was hectic after the winter ball, its events making it harder for you to get back into your old routine. a rollercoaster that you finally managed to get off of for a blink of an eye, when suddenly you’re strapped on once more. you think to yourself that maybe you’ll make it to graduation in May; maybe alive. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Here Comes The Sun” by @seokgyuu

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, angst, comedy, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･what's supposed to be just another year of fun and games at one of south korea's top universities turns into a rollercoaster of emotions for you. stuck between best friends and former crushes, you try to find love, friends and most importantly yourself.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“A Poem A Day” by @wooahaeproductions

Gn!reader || modern day cyrano!, fluff, romance, angst, comedy || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When Mingyu literally falls head over heels for someone, he has no idea what to do. What happens when he gets help (and a little meddling) from his friends? it definitely won’t be boring, that’s for sure.

Please let me know if the links have any problems~