#i know that's what i definitely love and want in real life but my god does it make me uncomfortable
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
cressidagrey · 2 days ago
Text
Such A Mystery - Part 7
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  
The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 
Warnings: 
Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen
Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Happy New Year! Chapter count is continuing to go up, because I need to halve this chapter after hitting 6k. Should be 10 parts. Hopefully.
Tumblr media
Arthur did eventually show up with enough McDonald’s in tow to feed an army. 
Fries, Nuggets and even including apology milkshakes.
“I am really sorry,” her little brother apologised to her, looking distraught.
Colette exhaled slowly, trying her hardest not to laugh at the sheepish look on Arthur's face.
"The next time, maybe you should think before you post. But then I clearly didn’t do that either,” she said drily.
“I mean, karma is the guy in the car coming straight home to me, did amuse me very much,” Vic said brightly.
Arthur blushed deeply, and ducked his head in embarrassment. He set down the bags of takeout on the counter, and then looked up to her to apologize again, his eyes wide like a puppy begging for forgiveness.
"Come here," Colette said with a sigh, holding out her arms for him. "I love you, ma petite puce."
"Colette!" Arthur complained with a grimace, but she just grinned.
"Oh you'll always be my little flea," she teased her younger brother.
"Oh god, don't call me that," Arthur complained, letting her pull him into a tight hug. He let out a long suffering sigh. "I said I was sorry!"
"I know you are," she said, patting the top of his brown hair, even when that meant that she needed to stand on her tiptoes to reach. "But the fact remains that you were an idiot before."
Arthur groaned in embarrassment and dropped his head to her shoulder in defeat.
"Eat your fries," his voice was muffled. "And please tell me you have some salad or something in the fridge so Max doesn't kill me for feeding you nothing but junk food."
"I do have some salad in the fridge," Colette said and ruffled his hair. "I'll eat lots of veggies, I promise. And I’ll even tell Maxie that I blackmailed you into getting me fries, if you want,” she suggested brightly.  
Vic just snorted. "Let's just get that back in the living room and we can put on Sky News and bitch about the commentators."
"You guys are awful," Arthur protested, but he was already gathering their food and following along obediently. "The comments on Sky Sports are not nearly as bad as you make them out to be..."
Colette rolled her eyes and instead collapsed onto the couch, wriggling to get comfortable, because her back was still killing her.
Arthur was also very wrong. Danica Patricks definitively was that bad. Colette could just stare at the train wreck in front of her.
"Vic. Why in the world has Sky Jos on there to talk about Maxie's anger issues. What anger issues?" she demanded. Max didn’t have anger issues. Who in the world had come up with that? This was utterly ridiculous!
Victoria stared at her. "You don't know?!" she asked, sounding shocked.
"Know what?" Colette demanded. "Enzo deleted every social media app in existence from my phone. Why do people think that Max of all people has anger issues?!"
"George Russell," Arthur mumbled. "He said some...things."
Things. George Russell had said some things. 
Colette sat up a little straight at that, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What things?" she demanded. "What did he say?"
Victoria and Arthur exchange a look.
"He may have said that he wouldn't want Max to date his sister because he is sure that his girlfriend is the one dealing with his anger issues?" Arthur offered.
"He. Said. What?" Colette bit out.
No wonder there had been this tone in Max's voice when they had talked this morning...No wonder he had sounded upset, when that George fucking Russell had pretty much accused him of hurting her. And of course, he hadn't wanted to worry her, so of course, he hadn't told her.
Victoria reached out and grasped her elbow, as if she worried Colette would jump up and attack the screen.
"You need to stay calm," Vic said firmly. "You can't get worked up, it's not good for you, and it's not good for the baby," she warned her.
"I will murder George Russell," Colette growled in response.
"No murder," Victoria said in a no-nonsense voice. "You can't kill him, he's not worth it. And you can't have this stress, for your health. And the baby."
Colette huffed but she was still seething.
Only to then have Danica Patrick pipe up from the TV Screen: "What are your thoughts on your son’s supposed anger issues?"
"He doesn't have anger issues!" Colette snapped. "I have anger issues right now! I am going to find George Russell and punch him in the face!"
Arthur stared at her with an ill-hidden combination of horror and fascination.
Victoria laughed again, but it was mostly out of surprise and disbelief. "Well, at least we know that your temper is firmly intact," she said dryly.
"I'm sure Max is going to loooove seeing you this worked up over this," Arthur grumbled.
Colette had a lot of problems with Max's father, but at least for once she actually agreed with him:
"On the circuit…as soon as Max lowers his visor, he turns into a lion. He is really motivated and the only thing that matters is winning. It was always in him. What I see in Max now, I saw in karting," Jos answered Danica's question. "But that’s not the same Max you see when he is at home. On the race track, he is a lion, but at home, he’s a teddy bear. He got that from Sophie. He’s very sweet, very gentle…Incredible protective of the people he cares about."
For the first time in recent history, Colette found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Jos Verstappen.
"He is a teddy bear," she mumbled in agreement. "The sweetest thing on earth. And that bastard has no idea what he's talking about," she bit out.
"Of course Max is a lion on the track," Arthur said with a scoff. "We've witnessed that ourselves. Everyone in the paddock knows that Max is a machine when he's in his race car, but George has his head up his ass if he thinks that Max is aggressive off the circuit."
"We all know that Maxie is the gentlest, most generous person out there," Victoria agreed, shaking her head. "George Russell is clearly jealous and is making stuff up just to get attention."
Colette just huffed.
"So you don't think he has anger issues?" Danica Patrick pushed.
"What kind of a stupid question is that?" Colette grumbled in response, her shoulders taut with anger.
Arthur laughed and Victoria squeezed her arm.
"No," Jos answered flatly.
Danica Patrick, who was clearly fishing for a different reply, seemed a little thrown by the firm response. But she rallied quickly enough to pivot: "And what can you tell us about your son’s relationship with Colette Leclerc?"
"Oh, come on!" Colette snapped.
"They have been together for a very long time," Jos replied simply, his accent strong as ever. "…since back in Karting. I don’t think anybody believed that that relationship would last, but they did prove everybody wrong."
The answer was unexpectedly charming and sincere.
Colette found herself blinking at that, surprised at how fond he sounded when talking about her and Max. Even Arthur was gaping stupidly, and it looked like Victoria was struggling not to choke on her drink from surprise.
"I think the great thing about Colette is that she understands his life, his career. She has a brother who does the same job as Max, so she was always incredibly supportive of him," Jos continued. "She is there for him. She supports him completely, and she’s been there for him through the good times and the bad. I don’t think Max would be the man he is today without her."
Arthur and Victoria stared at the screen with dropped jaws, stunned into silence.
"Is that Jos actually giving a heartfelt compliment?" Arthur muttered in disbelief.
“I think he is?” Victoria responded questioningly. This was certainly a new experience for everyone.
On the screen, Jos continued: "I have been watching their relationship for over half of Max's life, and Max really did pick the right girl."
"Your son hasn’t talked a lot about his relationship," Danica said leadingly.
"Oh, you won’t get anything from him," Jos said with a snort. "He’s very protective over her, always has been. Especially with her in her current condition."
Colette’s eyes widened and she immediately put a hand over her stomach in a protective gesture. 
"Fuck," Victoria cursed.
“Did he seriously just do that?” Arthur croaked. “Did he just tell all of F1 - no, all of the world - that Colette is pregnant?”
All three of them just gaped at the TV.
Danica Patricks looked like a vampire that had just tasted blood. "Her current condition?" she asked, her voice honeyed sweet.
"Yes," Jos confirmed simply. "The baby is supposed to come any day now. We’re all incredibly excited for the new addition to the family. I mean, it took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough."
He said like it was a joke. Like it hadn't taken them the better part of 3 years and 2 miscarriages.
Colette’s whole body had tensed, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as the words echoed in her mind: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough. Those words felt like a punch to the gut - like a mockery of all the pain and disappointment and suffering.
All the stress and anxiety and anguish that they had gone through. All the tears and the desperation and prayers for a miracle.
And all of it reduced to a cheap, dirty joke.
"I am going to throttle him," Victoria said, her voice shaking.
"Get in line," Arthur grumbled, looking equally enraged.
Colette just sat there staring fixedly at the screen, feeling like her whole mind had gone numb.
It was one thing when Jos made his snide little comments to them, but it was quite another when he decided to talk about that on international TV. He made it sound like their troubles to conceive had only been a matter of not trying hard enough.
It felt like a gut punch. Colette had always known that Jos had no idea how hard the last couple of years had been for them, but now, in light of his comment, it sounded like he somehow assumed it had all been their own fault.
They had kept both miscarriages quiet...had only shared it with a handful of people. She knew that Max had told Vic about it, but he had never told his father.
Her hands were shaking with anger. The urge to throw something - anything - was almost overwhelming as the words echoed in her head over and over: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough.
How could he have been so cruel? How could he go and announce it on international television and make it sound like it hadn’t been the hardest thing that either of them had ever been through?
It felt like a betrayal. Colette had never expected much out of Max’s father, but this? This felt like twisting the knife in a still-healing wound and pouring salt into it.
It felt like a stab to the back. Jos had no idea. No idea how hard it had been to keep the hope up. No idea how much it had hurt with every failed test and every lost dream. And no idea how much they both had longed for the baby that was growing within her.
And now he was just treating it like it had been a matter of not working hard enough, as if it had been an easy task and they had simply taken their sweet time to do something that came naturally to most people.
Her mind would have continued to turn into circles...if there hadn't been a sudden stabbing pain low in her abdomen.
Colette winced as the pain flared. It was a shock, and her hands immediately flew down to press against the source of the pain.
"Are you alright?" Victoria asked immediately. Colette clenched her teeth as the cramping pain seemed to grow even worse, before easing.
"Just...just a cramp," Colette managed to breathe out. "It's fine. It's fine. I just- it just startled me, that's all."
She tried to assure herself that it was nothing. Just Braxton Hicks - just the body preparing for the labor, the pain sometimes got intense. But something about it felt...off.
"Is that the first one today?" Victoria asked her. "You winced a few times this morning."
Colette thought back to this morning, recalling how she had woken up with a stabbing pain in her lower back. She hadn’t thought much of it then, since her muscles hadn’t been happy with her in a long time at this point - and it had passed pretty quickly after a few minutes.
"I'm not sure, I-" she started, her breath catching.
There was pain again, another stabbing contraction.
"Are they getting stronger?" Victoria asked, her voice sharpening.
The pain receded after a few seconds, and Colette had to force down the urge to curl up on the couch with her hands on her stomach as she tried to take deep breaths."It's nothing. I still have 4 weeks," Colette said with a shake of her head.
The words sounded like a prayer. Because she wasn’t due for at least another month, after all. This was just the Braxton Hicks contractions that her doctor had warned her about. The practice contractions that were supposed to help get her body ready for labor, nothing to worry about.
It was just her body preparing for the birth, that was all.
But the pain came back again, and this time, Colette couldn't quite suppress the gasp as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it.
"Colette," Victoria said, her voice sharp. "I don’t think they’re just practice contractions. The way you’re tensing and wincing...this is the real deal. I think you’re going into actual labor."
“No,” Colette said, her heart lurching in her chest. “No, no, I’m not…I’m not supposed to go into labor until January, this is- this is not supposed to happen.”
She had just hit her 36th week, and she was due at the start of January. It was far too early for the labor to start.
"I don't think the baby cares about that," Victoria said with a laugh. "Come on, we'll need to get you to the hospital."
"No, I can't be in labour. Max isn't here," she disagreed.
Colette felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her. The very last thing she wanted to do was start labor without Max there, and Max was currently in the middle of a race on the opposite end of the world.
“Where’s your hospital bag?“ Victoria asked her, all business. “Where’s are the car keys? Arthur is driving.“
“What, no!“ Arthur squeaked. Arthur clearly looked terrified, his eyes growing like saucers as he stared at them. "No - no, I don’t think I can-"
But Victoria was already rounding on him. "Oh yes,  you can. Just get the keys and get the damn car ready. I‘ll help Colette get her things, and you'll drive us."
The authority in her voice was intimidating enough that Arthur didn’t dare to disagree with her, and he nodded mutely and hurried away to look for the car keys.
Colette was torn between laughing at her brother’s expression and panicking over the fact that her labor was actually starting.
Just like that, she felt frozen in place a few moments longer, before Victoria snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Hey, no freezing up. We need to get moving. We need to get to the hospital, and your kid doesn’t care that it still needs 4 more weeks. So come on, come on, get your things."
It snapped her out of her temporary daze, and she managed to focus back to the present again. "Right, yeah," Colette mumbled, and she quickly went to get her hospital bag.
She had already packed it, just in case - but she had definitely not expected to actually use it.
Her hands were shaking as she picked it up, the whole situation still not entirely sinking in yet. Max was not here. She was going to have her baby without him here - that wasn’t how it was supposed to be!
But the pain came back again, and her body seemed to agree that there was no time left to waste.
She winced through the contraction, and Vic’s face tensed as she saw it.
"How are you doing?" she asked, watching her worriedly. Colette had to take a deep breath, trying to keep breathing as the pain faded out again. "I’m-” she started, but that was the same second that Arthur appeared again with the keys.
"The car is ready," he said, sounding very much like he’d rather bolt.
"Right," Victoria said, and she looked at Colette. "We gotta go. You good to go?"
Colette felt a surge of panic as the truth of leaving to go to the hospital finally sank in - she felt very much like her entire body had seized up. But Arthur was already waiting at the door with an expectant look on his face that did not look at all reassuring, and Victoria had picked up her hospital bag and was ushering Colette’s towards the hallway.
The contractions didn’t seem to care about any of her feelings, anyway.
"Come on," Victoria told her quietly. "We're gonna go and have a beautiful birth, and when you're done, there’ll be a healthy baby in your arms, okay?"
Colette was sure that her face had gone pale, and her hands were shaking as she slowly made her way through the hallway. Victoria led her the entire time, supporting her as they moved.
She was more than grateful to slip into the backseat of the Audi and her hands could claw themselves into the buttery soft leather interior.
“Are you sure we can’t wait for an adult?“ Arthur asked weakly.
“You are an adult. You literally drive race cars for a living,“ Victoria snapped.
Colette would have laughed at Arthur’s terrified expression in any other situation, but at the moment, she really wasn’t up to find anything funny.
“Just drive the damn car, Arthur!“ Victoria snapped, and Arthur flinched, his eyes wide as saucers.
A whimper escaped Colette as another contraction gripped her, and she curled up in the back seat, both hands clawed in the seat as the wave of pain ebbed away again. Her breathing was ragged, and she felt like she was slowly coming apart at the seams.
"Keep breathing," Victoria’s sharp voice came from her left side, and she felt a cool, smooth hand on her forehead. "Just keep breathing. You're doing great."
The words managed to cut through the panic, and Colette managed to gasp out a shuddering breath. “I-” she choked out, “I can’t…I can’t do this without Max, I-”
"You are doing it," Victoria cut in, her voice steady and sharp like a blade. "You are doing it, and you are going to be fine. Max will be by your side the moment he can, but you will make it until then. Just keep breathing and keep talking, you’re doing great."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
421 notes · View notes
heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 2 days ago
Text
The way I fell in love with this fic immediately!! OP has such a fantastic grasp on words, and pacing it fr had me completely entranced with the story. Jason and the reader felt so fleshed out and real that I just wanted to tuck them both into bed and tell them it's all going to be alright! I talk about my fav parts below the cut:
All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.
The stakes here are already giving me anxiety, mentally had to check if I had any high-stakes projects to take care of (I do not) but I am immersed and still feel like I do
Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.
Ugh this is so visceral, I can literally feel my chest tighten at this scene (But I'm also thinking about how terrible Gotham traffic is, like I know every other day you have to change your route home because some rouge decided to rob a bank and crash their getaway car)
He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.
ooooh, ow, that's heavy. The day has just been so awful and all you want is just a moment to yourself and when you finally think your space is safe there's another issue to deal with and there's blood on your cream carpet. What's worse is that you don't him to be consider an issue, but in the moment when you're already so drained and exhausted and he's only making things harder, it's difficult to consider him as anything else
Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.” He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap.
Ahhh, sobbing because it's not even an 'I'm sorry' and maybe normally you don't need it to be, but today it's just another thing drawing you closer and closer to breaking
But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.
Love this little insight, if it's not you, then it's no one, and he's been coming around long enough for you to know that
It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep.
!!! This line is such a standout for me, poetry fr
You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.
I looove the tension building here, it feels like bubble about to pop, a scream about to break the silence
You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.
SOBBING, wow, no words for this other than we all definitely need to cry
“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.” You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him. After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—” “Okay.” He goes quiet.
This whole interaction is written incredibly, it has me sucking in breath and my eyes going wide. There's just this heaviness with it, both of them are trying in their own way, but nothing is going to make you feel better right now. And there's an ache that they're both messing up? Like, maybe you're not going to want him to come back after this. Or maybe he won't want to, and the whole tentative relationship you've built will just vanish
Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.
oh no
“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor.
OH NO
“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.
!!! OP!!! OW!! I'm going to go stare into the void, but YOU need to go stare at a wall and think about what you've done
(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)
I gasped, but it's so true to his character for him to shut down when hurt
You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.
Art
One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand.
In awe of your way with words here, I can feel the hurt and the comfort with every line
Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch.
oooh, this action feel so big, so much, a line that you want to cross but neither of you are ready for
you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.
Yeah, wow, that's fantastic. This gets right to core of knowing Red Hod and wanting to know who's underneath, it's so compelling and I eat it up every time
He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could. You know why.
SCREAMING, I want to give them the world and wrap them up in blankets! Seriously, this fic is just so, so good. I loved every line, and I don't think I blinked the entire time. Jason felt so human, flawed, but still kind and good. Incredible work as always, OP!! 💙💙
you're good to me, baby
with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash i saw rise in the heat. settle soft and as pure as snow, i fell in love with the fire long ago.
or; because the red hood bleeding onto your living room carpet is exactly what you need right now [3.6k]
Jason Todd x fem!reader; based on this lovely ask; ngl this turned into a personal vent jason doesn't show up until 1k words in LMAO; warning there’s blood (duh) and reader is type A and suggested to have heavy anxiety; pre-established relationship where reader doesn’t know his identity + muzzle red hood bc HOT
Tumblr media
Compartmentalize. Create baskets in your mind. Analyze the situation, and drop the corresponding emotion in the appropriate basket.
One: You had a fight with your best friend. She called you selfish because you weren’t enthusiastic about her new relationship. She just can’t seem to understand that no matter how happy you want to be for her, it’s painful to see everyone find safety in another person when you can’t. Every attempt at romance is squashed by something or the other that you keep doing wrong. I thought you were hot, your latest dating attempt had said when you ran into him and asked why he never texted back. But you’re kind of a lot. Not something I have the space for right now, you know?
Two: There’s an important presentation today, one that could determine the fate of your position in the company. Your coworker, the one who’s convinced you stole his promotion (he just flirted with the higher-ups while you actually completed the requirements), refuses to let you forget how much is at stake. All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.
The emotions here? Frustration. Anger. Exhaustion. Jealousy. Just to name a few. But there’s no time to dwell on anxieties right now, so you shove those thoughts aside. Drop them in their compartments and move on because, after all, if you can strip them down to their bones and find where they stem, you can yank those anxieties from the ground before they have the chance to root. And then there’s no need for unnecessary heartache, right?
(Who cares if the baskets are overflowing, crumpled fragments spilling over the sides like garbage in a landfill? Who cares if the room of your mind is so packed that you’re pressed against the wall and breathing becomes painful.)
The digital clock beside your bed reads 6:12. The numbers blink in and out of the window, their red dots and dashes taunting your heavy eyelids. You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes. 6:13 now. You have forty-seven more minutes of peace, minutes which should be spent sleeping, giving your poor brain a break from itself. But you can’t. Every time you close your eyes and begin to sink below the level of consciousness, your heart pumps a house-special cocktail of cortisol that laces through your bloodstream and convinces you that if you fall asleep you will miss your presentation and you will get fired. The off-grid escape plan formulating in your head switches from hypothetical to tentative when your neighbors, apparently awoken to lust as well as tired by it, start going at it again. You want nothing more than to bang on their door and scream obscenities until they hate each other enough to never touch again, but you resign yourself to consciousness, giving up on the dream of what would now be forty-four more minutes of sleep. 
It’s Friday morning; only one more day to get through before the sweet release of the weekend finds you. (The whole weekend will be spent contemplating the start of a project, feeling like two days is not nearly long enough to complete anything, and dreading Monday until it finds you with nothing done and the same, endless cycle awaiting.)
After completing your morning routine 44 minutes early, you use the spare time to go through your presentation once more, just for good luck, wrapping up the third run-through just in time to hear your alarm to leave for work.
The presentation goes decent, at least well enough to quell any doubts about your ability to do your job. Your coworker ate his words for sure, and you might have enjoyed the look on his face had you not mentally checked out as soon as you finished your closing remarks. Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.
When you get home, your frustration is close to boiling over. You kick off your shoes right at the door, your keys and bag following close behind.
Far be it from you to break down on the floor in the middle of the room, the plan begins to formulate. There’s a box of tissues on your desk– that can go on the nightstand, along with two of the chilled water bottles you keep in the fridge for after you work out. And you’ll need something for the tissues, right? The small wastebasket from the bathroom should be fine. You drag it over to the side of your bed, sitting in your usual spot to make sure you placed it at a reachable distance. You won’t want to get out of bed to wash your face after this, so a washcloth should go next to the tissues. And an extra one, just to be safe. There’s a half-pint of ice cream left in the freezer, you remember, and store that information for later.
You keep a set of comfortable clothes ready, the nicest, softest pajamas you own that you only wear after an everything shower. This shower, however, is a quick one, not much more than a few minutes under scalding water to comfort you, if nothing else. The light pink pajamas are a high-quality cotton and you feel like you’re in the clouds when you slip into them. Remaining is the ice cream, which you set out on the counter right before your shower so it would thaw just enough to be soft but not melted, With everything in your room ready, you go to retrieve the ice cream but stop with a startle when you round the corner.
“Jesus,” you mumble.
He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.
“Hey.” The Red Hood lifts his head when he sees you.
On any other day, you’d be quick to action, hauling him up off the couch and sprinting for the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.”
He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap. He sounds robotic through his muzzle mask. His hood, pulled down to reveal his thick black hair curling at the ends from humidity and sweat, rests on his back.
I don’t have time for this, is what you want to say. You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut. But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.
Holding back your heavy sigh, you wordlessly walk to the bathroom. He takes that as an invitation to follow. 
It’s clinical. Rehearsed. Neither of you speak. It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep. He knows to seat himself on the step stool you got just for him, for nights like these. He knows where to find the first aid kit and which supplies to hand you first. You know the exact steps to follow. Check the palms for abrasions. Antiseptic to the lacerations. Concussion exam. 
Maybe he can sense the air of tension surrounding you, because he doesn’t say as much as he usually does (though, granted, it’s still not much). It’s a reflection of your dynamic several months earlier when this arrangement began, back before you’d managed to chip away at the surface of his rough exterior. You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.
We both know you have at least a dozen people who could do this for you. The words echo in your mind. Don’t act like I owe you this. If anything, you owe me a new carpet. These are things you wish you could say, but never will. Being realistic, you’ll probably never be able to say things like this. You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.
This isn’t his fault, you remind yourself, but still, your lips turn down and your jaw feels tight with the effort to keep your face still, to not burst into tears right on the spot. In the second it takes for you to calm yourself, your hands pause. He notices. He says nothing. 
It’s not until you’re finished with cleaning the blood from his arm wound and giving him a wad of gauze to hold against it that he tests the waters and asks, “Is it too bad?” 
He sounds automated, but over the last few months, you’ve learned a thing or two about reading even these robotic actions. There's a certain quietness to the beginning of his sentence like he’s debating if he should say it or not. 
“It’s fine,” you say, shortly. 
“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.”
You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him.
After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—”
“Okay.”
He goes quiet.
You don’t mean to be so tetchy, but you don’t have the energy for anything more. Every little thing has you feeling on the edge of shattering. It’s too much. It’s all too much.
It’s when you’re kneeled at his side, staring into the gaping wound on his bicep and trying to thread the needle, fingers trembling from the chill of the tiled floor with nothing but a layer of thin cotton to keep you warm, that it happens. He shifts on the stool, a mere twitch in an attempt to get comfortable, but it brushes his bloody arm against yours. Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor. The insulating brick walls of your old apartment building are something you’re usually grateful for, but tonight you find yourself wishing for the city’s commotion to seep through the walls. Something, anything to buffer his proximity to you.
You hear his inhale as he prepares to say something else.
“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.
He wants to leave, you can tell, and you don’t blame him. You just messed everything up. But you started this, so now you have to finish it.
You sit in silence for the several minutes it takes for you to clean his wound and stop the bleeding.
He’s not looking at you, gaze transfixed ahead of him on a chip in the paint. At least, you assume. It’s difficult to guess what’s going on behind the milky white covering over his eyes. His subtle body language can be read if you pay close enough attention, you’ve learned, but that’s not something you care to do right now.
(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)
You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.
“Are you—” Hood starts. Because now he’s looking at you.
“Excuse me,” you say, pushing yourself off the ground and stumbling out of the room without so much as a glance back at him. You stagger into your room, needle and thread still in hand, and push the door closed. The lights are off, and the darkness is calming, quieting your buzzing thoughts. You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out. You continue this exercise, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth to soothe your sympathetic nervous system, the same way a therapist instructed that one time you went. You wipe away the moisture that has collected in your eyes, roll out your stiff neck, dry your sweaty palms over your thighs. You toss the needle and thread aside, because they are definitely not sterile anymore, and take a few more breaths before opening the door and going back to the bathroom.
You avoid his face, following the lines of grimy grout between the tiles before resuming to your spot at his side. His inspecting eyes burn on the side of your face. You wipe down the forceps with a sterilizing wipe and rip open the plastic packaging for a new needle, holding it up to the wound, but your hand refuses to steady.
Another deep breath. Then another.
Hood sighs. It’s almost chastising. “I think I should go.”
“What?” You’re just surprised enough to be torn away from your thoughts and look him in the eye (mask) for the first time all night.
“You can’t do this,” he says, gruffly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let you figure it out.”
You scoff. “Yes, I can. I’m fine.”
Before he can argue, you grab him by the wrist to hold him in place just as he starts moving to get up. He winces, but you keep your grip tight on him. You can feel his scrutiny through the cold, expressionless barrier of his disguise, practically track his pupils as they search your face.
You both pretend he couldn’t break from your hold in an instant if he wanted to.
“You’re shaking,” Hood says. His voice is much softer now.
You follow the turn of his head to your hand where it hovers the needle right over his skin. You are shaking. Trembling, in fact.
“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.
You focus all your strength on steadying yourself, but the harder you try to stabilize, the harder you tremor. Your other hand releases his wrist to clamp over your dominant hand and force it to stay in place. It guides the needle closer to the skin, but now your vision is blurring. You blink rapidly, but it’s not enough. The tears start falling. You look away from him, but a warm hand settles over yours. You don’t dare look at him, unable to bear showing him your shameful face, wet and blushing and screwed up in misery. You turn your face into your sleeve. Clamp your eyes shut tight, thinking maybe if you keep them closed, this darkness will swallow you up and he won’t be here anymore.
But the warmth of his skin on yours is the first feeling of softness, of relief you’ve felt in months, and then it’s gone. Your shoulders are shaking, quaking with the effort to keep your sobs quiet.
One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand. You don’t realize he’s pushed himself off his stool to sit cross-legged on the floor until you feel his hand circling your arm and pulling you closer. The tools in your hand clatter on the floor as your palms come up to press against his chest, fighting against him with half-hearted protests murmured through your cries. But even with only one good arm he’s too strong for you, and you’re pulled into him.
He’s so gentle with you, rubbing your back and resting his chin atop your head while you cry and cry and cry into his shirt. Several minutes pass like this, with your face buried in his chest and his good arm holding you tightly against him while the other dangles lamely at his side, throbbing with an intensity he’s trying to ignore.
When your sobs die down, and you’re sure you’re all cried out, you linger against him. He smells like smoke and gasoline, and his shirt is soft and warm from his body heat seeping through. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your back, even after you’ve quieted. The edge of his mask digs into your scalp where his chin sits, but it feels worth it. Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch. Your hands lose their nerve at his clavicle as you hold your breath for fear of the smallest movement drawing attention to your forwardness. You wait for him to rebuff you, to lean away from your touch, or grab your wrists and pry them off. He doesn’t.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. His chest finally falls.
Eyes opening, your thumb swipes over the edge of the red bat symbol just below his collarbone.
His movements pause, lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, before releasing it. “It’s alright,” he tells you.
You pull back from his chest to look at him, the way his cold and unfeeling expression stares back at you. You wonder from time to time what’s under the mask, but tonight the desire is overwhelming; you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.
The metallic odor spreading through the room brings you back to the present, and you hope the flush from your tears hides your cheeks’ growing heat when you realize where your mind had wandered. 
“Oh, fuck, your arm.” You speak in a watery voice, wiping at your face as the urgency returns to your senses. Though you try to move away, his firm hand on your back pulls you back in.
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, resuming his caresses up and down your back. “I can take care of it.”
“Then why do you even need me?” You sniffle with a small smile.
He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could.
You know why.
Tumblr media
this was lots of fun to write and thank u for your patience ik i said i was gonna "knock this out in a day" 2 weeks ago😬😬 also we're gonna pretend they aren't just letting his open wound marinate for half an hour when it should be getting stitched up bc it's fiction ok? everyone say thank you mostly-imagines for proofreading this😚
but anyway happy new year!! it's been barely 2 months but starting this account made my year so much better🫶🫶🫶and ty for 500 followers that's crazy🫣🫢
741 notes · View notes
halowishes · 3 days ago
Text
my fav fics of 2024!!
i wanted to share my other recs that i read before i started my lists and ones that just deserve MORE recognition/ changed me/ inspire me to live my life.
fandoms: mostly haikyuu & some demon slayer
(skts if the ship is unspecified)
red dahlia
e. 103k+. ongoing. handmaiden au.
guys. this was probably the fic that made me fall in love with sakuatsu. fairycake always does impeccable world building and splendid writing. this fic has such flair and style— it’s in both povs so you can feel all the nuance. and the PLOT. the DIALOGUE. the IMAGERY. god this is really such a wonderful fic and i’m dying to find out what happens next!!
play among the stars
e. 105k. sci-fi/ rom-com/ drama?
ok so there’s a jail on the moon. kiyoomi is a guard and atsumu is a prisoner! i had so much fun reading this. i’ve never read anything like it. it was intense but well-paced, dramatic yet comedic, serious and silly! kiyoomi had some really beautiful development, and atsumu’s character was a treasure. every chapter was gorgeous but i ESPECIALLY love the last few.
in transit — kageyama x hinata
t. 4.7k. canon universe.
one of the first hq fics i read. so sweet and felt very loyal to the anime. i also just thought the image of kageyama playing basketball was so funny. this fic introduced me to the world of hq fanfic so i’ll always be thankful for it.
in another life — bokuto x akashi
t. 23k. mcd/ hospital au.
honestly? heartbreaking. soul crushing. i’ll randomly remember parts of it and just sit in silence for a bit. this fic is probably why i actually haven’t really sought out any other bokuaka… i just end up thinking about this😭 AND ITS SO WELL WRITTEN. the storyline is so precise and clean, but it packs a punch (that ends in tears). i wondered how the hell it had so many hits but i get it. i really do. and i’m a changed person because of it.
three sheets to the wind
m. 117k. pirate au.
i am actually very obsessed with atsumu teaching kiyoomi how to let loose and feel the sun on your skin and be honest and real. also such a fan of atsumu’s casual poetry because when you’re obsessed with someone, words can just roll off the tongue. very big believer of love inspiring courage and bravery.
insert coin to play
e. 178k. cyberpunk au.
we all know how much i love this but what does it for me is how it understands kiyoomi’s characteristics: he’s blunt, strong, determined, and a bit irrational. i love loud and proud fighter atsumu, but kiyoomi is no less weaker just because he’s quiet. and i will always always always remember that scene in the club where they talked about a world if they were ordinary. anyways i can always talk about this fic.
heirs
e. 237k. corporate & soulmate au.
this was the slow burn of the year. yes the fic was about love and choice and agency, but also duty, piety, and power. it was provoking and thoughtful and dramatic (in a good way). i actually felt the anger, betrayal, and shame of those characters because the plot is just that intense.
again, like this
e. 55k. mid time skip.
this really is my comfort fic. i’ve read it so often i can probably tell you verbatim every plot point. but i can’t help it because they are so tender. so innocent and raw and real. they make each other better and it’s such a pleasure to read. and (you got me) the smut was really really good ok?😭😭
the tide will turn
e. 80.8k. titanic au.
there’s not much i can say because of spoilers but GOD. this fic is so luxurious and unreal. i was obsessed with the characters and finding out what came next. it was a thrilling and emotional read (definitely cried). the fic was so immersive and the last few chapters stuck with me.
afflictions for below-average asian-americans
t. 7.5k. american suburbia au.
genuine, embarrassing, overwhelming, inexplicable. the character development is so special and subtle, yet inspiring. although the premise comes off as niche, i think anyone can relate to feelings of envy and insecurity. this seriously made me appreciate 17 year-old halo more <3.
do i dare disturb the universe?
t. 14.9k. parallel timeline.
*screams*. i need more second chance fics. (vulnerable lore moment) i have a deep rooted aversion to failure and making mistakes so stories like these help me unlearn that. generally, there’s no right or wrong in how to live your life so why aren’t we just doing what we can to be fulfilled and loved? very important fic in the “listen to your heart!!” folder.
it drives you crazy getting old
m. 45.9k. 13 going on 30-ish au.
there is something so comforting about reading a young skts in their 32 year old selves. the fic is about learning how to be patient, to be vulnerable, to love. growing up can be so scary but this fic is a gentle reminder that everything will work itself out and you never have to do it alone. you may not end up where you thought, and that’s okay.
bound
e. 68.1k. actors au.
what i admire about this fic is how generous it is. the characters make mistakes, they say and do things they don’t mean, they can be unhealthy and miscommunicate. but at the end of the day, they’re so patient and loving that the stars align for them because they deserved that happy ending. (and that speech at the end was just too good not to include. it makes me cry every time.)
rain on your wedding day
g. 4.6k. skts wedding.
the joys of celebrating love. the joys of having a community who supports you and will do anything to see you happy. the joys of spending the rest of your life with Your Person. i don’t care if it’s a fanfic, it’s canon TO ME.
how to NOT fall in love with your flatmate’s twin
m. 46.7k. mid-time skip.
while atsumu and kiyoomi’s budding relationship is delightful and the twins’ characters are superb, i will always remember this fic for the side plot of kiyoomi learning to reconnect with his mother. it’s simple yet so powerful. this fic makes me appreciate my parents, siblings, and everything university gave me :’).
burden of blame
e. 91.2k. yakuza au.
if there’s anything to know about me it is that i LOVE a thriller. the plot of this fic is so buzzing with life and mystery. also i’m a SUCKER for bossy ass kiyoomi x nonstop yapper atsumu. it just amplifies the banter and tension by a mile. and selfless, impulsive atsumu will always have a place in my heart <3.
constellations we called home
e. 53.5k. end of the world au.
i read this fic over a month ago but i still can’t be normal about it. it’s extravagant, emotional, and honestly punched a hole through my heart that i might never recover from (like all apocalypse aus). this fic reminds me of the “would you rather have a good thing and or never have it at all” debate. i love love.
sketches of a firefly
e. 88.7k. magic realism/ returning to a small town au.
recently featured in my monthly recs but i don’t care! this fic made me want to be a kid again. it’s literally and figuratively magical. the storytelling amazed me and the tension was soooo vivid. this is a very worthy read but READ THE TAGS.
stockholm syndrome isn’t real
e. 50.2k. heist au.
also mentioned in my dec recs! i just love how this fic read like an action comedy movie. the punchy humor and the well paced scenes made it go by like my dream sakuatsu film. i’m still wrapping my head around how intricate the dynamics and plot of this fic are!
terminal curiosity
e. 9 works, each 10k+. canon universe.
we all read it, we all know it’s good. there’s nothing new i can say about it but i do go back and read it every couple months.
demon slayer
blue — giyuu x sabito
t. 17.2k. canon divergence.
giyuu wakes up in an au where sabito lives. the fic was so gentle and loving and careful. giyuu’s disbelief and the absurdity of it all— you feel all of that with this fic. the story was just so wholesome and made me love giyuu.
uh huh, honey — giyuu x sanemi
e. 151k. pornstar au😭😭
ok i realize the premise is bonkers but the plot is actually pretty deep😭 this fic was prime “opposites attract” in that the characters complement each other perfectly. really beautiful imagery, hilarious dialogue, and such a silly premise but full of admiration and thought.
and that’s my year of fanfic! i almost called this my top 24 fics of 2024 but then i thought “there’s no way i have 24 favs” and here i am… only two short.
but yeah! i’m glad to be back in fandom culture because it really is what got me through tough times. i hope you give these fics a chance or (most likely) if you’ve already read them, let me know what you thought about them!! (if you want more recs check my halo reads tag).
i’m not sure how long these monthly recs will last as i move onto a new part of my life, but i do hope you all find some community in these posts <3
lots of love ALWAYS,
halo <3
23 notes · View notes
orcelito · 6 months ago
Text
God I don't wanna go to therapy tomorrow. Sick of talking about my feelings in a clinical setting. I do enough psychoanalysis just by myself, and now I gotta sit through it with someone else??? Come on.
#speculation nation#i say as if i didnt submit myself to this and am not willingly paying for this to continue#idfk man ive always hated therapy. just kinda kept it going bcus i was so messed up about the whole grief shit#and i guess it's been maybe helpful. i dont know.#SHOULD i mention this tomorrow? i already know it's ass and entirely undeserved#if i did it'd mostly be another source to complain about it. theres really nothing anyone can say to make it better#bc it's bullshit and it already happened. and i already have the objective proof of yet another person losing interest in me.#... i dont know. i feel like it's inevitably going to come up. it's already taken up so much of my thoughts.#my every dream last night stemmed from it all. it was such a fitful night of sleep.#i can only pray that i dont dream about it tonight too. i want a fucking break from it all.#i hope she loses sleep from guilt. i hope she hurts every time she remembers what she did to me.#i hope she comes around tomorrow so she can see the face she kissed and she lied about loving#so she can remember im a person with feelings too. a person who opened up to her. a person who trusted her.#............ okay maybe i should talk about my blatantly vicious retaliatory remarks with my therapist.#i tried to reign it in but Bitch Mode definitely came out earlier today. when it was fresh. and i just wanted to make her Hurt.#i still want that honestly. i want her to truly regret doing this. to be filled with so much guilt for how she chose to do it.#i cant change her feelings. no matter how much i might want to. but i sure as hell can make her regret it.#i feel like im allowed a bit of petty bitchiness after this bullshit. but i also dont like the person i become like this.#anger issues. perhaps i should talk about my anger issues with my therapist.#easier than just rehashing the whole breakup. though i'll probably have to do that some too.#but better to have a goal for it. a direction to focus on. so that it's not just me complaining.#... it still wont be fun. and my ex mentioned coming round an hour after my therapy ends for dropping the shit off.#so Assuming she actually shows up (still not convinced she will after she flaked on me twice)#it's gonna be therapy and then seeing her right after. god it's gonna suck.#i'll try to do some homework maybe. and then maybe see if anyone wants to hang out later tomorrow.#my friends r the real ones. hanging out with me for 7 hours... they traded off between them but still#for 7 hours i was not alone. and that was very nice of them to do.#good things. positives! focusing on the positives. i am a healthy person with a healthy outlook on life. smiles.
3 notes · View notes
numetalkids · 7 months ago
Text
*inhales*.....................DEEP SIGH
#i'm exhausted#i have a job interview this week which i should be grateful for but i'm still so unsure about what i want in life#and i'm so scared of making wrong choices like i'm terrified#and the company seems kind of conservative in its structures and culture i mean apparently there are low hierarchies but#they make their whole deal about 'family' and then there are almost only men working there which is like ughhh like the ratio is ridiculous#and the thing is i found another job offer at my local library and i would just so love to work there!!!! i will definitely apply this week#i'm just scared that i'll do well enough during the interview that they will actually want ti hire me and then i can't say no#bc i didn't even expect them to reach out to me in the first place so i guess my application was better than i thought#so now im'm debating whether i should take the chance or sabotage the interview so that i get to try really hard for#the application for the library job instead#i sound ridiculous being upset that an employer is showing interest in me like what a privilege to be able to turn that down#at the same time. like thankfully there is financial support from the government so i'm safe in that regard atm but it's really not much#and i also don't want to be in this state of unemployment for too long#and yet...i want to just spend my days doing something worthwhile? maybe i should just be grateful that i have the privilege to choose betw#different jobs and try to take advantage of that fact and opt for the offers that speak to me rather than cry about it#god i'm so stressed this is my first time in life where i can't rest assured that the upcoming years will follow the same routine#like how it was when i entered uni like i just knew 'alright i'll be studying for at least 5 years and then we'll see' and now#it's like i don't know what i'll be doing next month or in half a year or next year or in five years#the uncertainty. killing me. that's how i know i grew up way too protected cause i break under the slightest inconvenience god#alright crying rant over from now on i'll be growing up for real 👍#personal
3 notes · View notes
majorkirastan · 2 years ago
Text
im going to get really into yurishipping doctor everwood with dr holly wondertainment and im gonna be really obnoxious about them and youre all going to have to deal
6 notes · View notes
girlivealwaysbean · 2 months ago
Text
the day i start getting off to loving tender sex it'll be over for everyone
1 note · View note
frogeyedape · 1 year ago
Text
I ran out of tags XD Good Omens Spoilers Beware! (time for dinner now)
The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2
(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)
***
Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off. 
Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse? 
Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended
In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB–
Keep reading
#FASCINATING essay#intriguing ideas and clues#the eccles cakes are DEFINITELY significant! weren't they called the ultimate comfort food? comfort disappears...#s2 has so many threads left up in the air ready to be played with in s3 it's great#wondering hard about the editing/erasing memories ability...is that something any angel at michael/uriel/saraqaels' level can do?#is it something they can do to ANY angel (or demon?)/only if they decide as a committee?#cuz they expected to erase gabriel's memory. saraqael had the thing to “look up” gabriel's memory in her hot little hands at the meeting#was THAT the book of life or is angel memory editing a separate function? (I'm leaning toward the latter)#GABRIEL fell in love?? GABRIEL?? with a demon?? is that Real? is it??#One Prince of Heaven may fall (lucifer/satan) but not two (crowley?) and CERTAINLY not 3 (gabriel) eh metatron? eh?#you are on to something BIG and the payoff is gonna be great!#(hey hollywood execs pay your fucking staff already & stop forcing wga & sag-aftra to strike for survival) (s3 doesn't HAVE to be on prime?)#oooh maggie not sure about maggie not being real. you've got me halfway convinced but aziraphale loves her records#AND she gets all the everyday records that the resurrectionist keeps getting--possible grounding in reality?#“it's just a thing we do” - i am on the fence on this one. on the one hand it is a very Character thing to say. on the other...#it's also a very mellow go woth the flow i don't get it but I'm here and i don't hate it kind of thing to say (and she really really wants#to dance with nina)#*with#the perfect crime...the parallels to gabriel's disappearance with none knowing who done did it (cuz he zapped himself into the fly)#back to gabriel & beelzebub and the everday records....the sheer NUMBER of records...does it imply gabriel turned EVERY RECORD in the juke#every time they visited the resurrectionist (3 times on screen?) or does he change just the one currently selected and there's a ton more#visits there that we DON'T see (but the records are proof of)?#gabriel says Nah. nah. nuhuh. nope. great & terrible prophesy bad things coming ah yes I'll renege and lose my memory to avert it ???#Nah is too out of character to not be deliberate. WHAT DOES GABRIEL KNOW ABOUT WHAT IS COMING. why did he set things up#so that he could escape heaven scot free but memoryless and WHY was that integral to averting the Terrible Thing that is coming?#is metatron the terrible thing? did gabriel have to leave the coop SO THAT metatron would be tempted to meddle & suck aziraphale in?#so that aziraphale (and crowley) can save the day by stopping “heaven”/metatron's plan for the second coming?#the Great Plan is ineffable...the Apocalysn't...the plan behind the plan for apocalypse...god's narration & the nice & accurate prophecies--#what I'm getting at there (poorly) is that...maybe god's plan is to see how long things can last? how great creation can become?#because it IS a damn shame to end an infinite universe after 6000 years before the engine is even fully cranked up...
11K notes · View notes
cruel-seduction · 30 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Theodore Nott Headcanons
Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Theodore’s devotion might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.
(+ Requests are open so if you wanna request something, go ahead)
mdni 18+
Theodore Nott 
6’4 | He’s taller than Mattheo, and yes, he lords it over him (quietly, of course, because Theo is above petty behavior… unless it’s funny).
Lean, but don’t be fooled—this man is cut. He’s that deadly kind of fit where you don’t notice at first because he’s always wearing loose sweaters and looking like a poetry major. But the second the sleeves roll up? Oh. My. God. Veins for DAYS, hands strong enough to snap a wand in half (or your will to argue).
He doesn’t work out. Like, ever. He’s just naturally like this. Probably from lugging around all those dark magic books and the emotional weight of his trauma (we love a man with issues!).
(He could choke you with one hand while quoting Dante and your ghost would thank him. RESPECTFULLY!)
Has that sleepy, “don’t bother me, I’m too cool for this” kind of vibe. Until he’s pissed, and suddenly it’s quiet rage central. A single glare from him could silence an entire Great Hall—and probably has.
His abs? Unfair. They’re there, but in the casual, effortless way that makes you want to cry because why do they look that good without trying? If you’re lucky enough to see him shirtless (bless your soul), you’ll be rethinking your life decisions.
Quidditch player energy without ever actually playing. His thing? Sitting in the stands, sipping black coffee, and judging everyone while looking hot.
"YOU WANNA KNOW IF I’D FOLLOW THEODORE INTO A CURSED FOREST AT MIDNIGHT JUST BECAUSE HE SAID SO??? THE ANSWER IS YES. I’D GO, NO QUESTIONS ASKED."
You think he’s calm and controlled until you see him in a duel, and suddenly he’s throwing hexes like he’s possessed. It’s giving “do-not-poke-the-bear” energy, and it’s hot.
His smirk? Criminal. It’s the kind of smirk that makes you forget how to breathe for a second and then hate yourself because he definitely knows the effect it has on people.
“Mia cara,” he says, and you’re done for. No wand needed. He just obliterated your whole existence.
Theodore Nott | Personality
He’s quiet, but it’s that kind of quiet. The "I could verbally destroy you with a single sentence but choose not to because I have better things to do" kind of quiet.
(WE LOVE A MAN WITH RESTRAINED CHAOS!!! IT’S SO SEXY!!!)
His reputation is split down the middle. People either think he’s the chillest guy in Slytherin or they’re low-key terrified of him. There is no in-between. He doesn’t go out of his way to make people uncomfortable, but if you catch his bad side? RIP to you, my friend.
Very composed most of the time, but don’t mistake that for softness. Theo doesn’t raise his voice; he raises his eyebrow. And somehow, that’s worse.
"You really thought that was a good idea? Cute."
Stone-cold when it comes to confrontations. No yelling, no theatrics—just a quiet menace that makes you wish he’d scream at you instead because this is SO MUCH WORSE.
However, if it’s for his friends? Oh, baby, the gloves come off. Someone messes with Mattheo? He’s done. Someone insults you? They’re not showing up to class tomorrow. He’s terrifyingly efficient when it comes to protecting the people he loves.
Doesn’t talk a lot in fights, but his insults are cutting when they come out. And he does it with a smirk that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him.
"What’s the matter? Spellbook too heavy for you? Or is it just that your brain isn’t working?"
Unlike Mattheo, he doesn’t get in trouble for starting fights. Oh no, Theo’s the one who talks his way out of detention, leaving the professors wondering how they ended up apologizing to him.
Let’s be real, Theo has layers. He’s the kind of guy who looks calm and put together on the outside, but his mind? A mess. Overthinks everything, but you’ll never know it because he’s mastered the art of hiding his emotions. (He’s good at this, but it’s also probably why he sleeps like four hours a night.)
Moody, but in a subtle way. You’ll notice when he’s upset because he’ll get even quieter, or start tapping his fingers on the table. He’s not the type to vent about it—he’ll just say “it’s nothing” while his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear it crack.
Theo loves order. He’s a perfectionist and gets mildly stressed when things don’t go according to plan. He doesn’t lose his temper, though—he just sighs dramatically and mutters something in Italian like "Per l’amor del cielo..."
(BILINGUAL KINGS ARE UNFAIR. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE CAN INSULT ME IN TWO LANGUAGES?)
A total academic weapon. Not because he tries super hard, but because he’s just naturally brilliant and does the bare minimum to get top marks. He can explain a spell you’ve been struggling with for days in five seconds flat, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
Always looks like he’s in control, but put him in social situations? Total disaster. Theo’s not awkward, but he doesn’t do small talk. Half the time, he just nods politely and hopes whoever’s talking gets the hint.
Has the driest sense of humor. He’ll drop a sarcastic one-liner so deadpan you’re not even sure if he’s joking.
"I think your essay was… bold. Choosing to write it in such a confusing way must’ve been a creative choice."
Drinks coffee like it’s water. Black coffee, of course. None of that sugary stuff, though he secretly loves when you make him try your sweet drink.
Doesn’t like parties but goes because the group makes him. He’s the guy sitting on the couch, watching everyone else make fools of themselves while holding a drink he hasn’t touched. (He’s your ride home because you know he’s always sober enough to apparate responsibly.)
Theodore Nott | Boyfriend
Ah, Theodore Nott, the walking paradox of calculated charm and quiet vulnerability. Having him as your boyfriend is like playing chess against a master—except the stakes are your heart, and he already has you in checkmate before you even realize the game started.
Manipulation, Thy Name is Theo:Theodore isn’t one to beg for your love; oh no, he’s too smooth for that. Instead, he’ll make sure you think choosing him was your idea all along.
He’ll subtly nudge you into needing him.
He anticipates your desires before you even say them aloud:
"Thirsty? I grabbed your favorite drink. Tired? Don’t worry, I already finished that essay you were stressing about."
He’s not loud about his possessiveness, but it’s there. You don’t realize it at first, but suddenly, every other guy who tries to get too close to you is either giving you a wide berth or “just happened” to fail their next exam. Coincidence? With Theo, nothing is a coincidence.
(We love a man who’s low-key terrifying but only in a protective way!)
How He Realized He Was in Love:Theo didn’t believe in love. Love was messy, uncontrollable, and entirely too risky for someone who thrived on precision and control. But then you came along, and everything changed.
It was slow at first. He didn’t notice it happening until one day, you smiled at him across the library, and he felt his carefully constructed walls crack.
And then it hit him.
“Merlin, I’m in love with her.”
Of course, Theo didn’t panic outwardly. No, he spent the next week internally spiraling.
"What does this mean?"
"What if she doesn’t feel the same way?"
"How do I tell her without sounding like an idiot?"
Eventually, he decided that subtlety was overrated. One evening, while you were sitting in his dorm, flipping through one of his books, he just said it.
"I love you."
You froze, unsure if you heard him correctly. He didn’t look away, his intense gaze pinning you in place.
"You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know."
Affection, Theo Style:Theo isn’t flashy or over-the-top, but he’s deeply romantic in his own way.
Words of Praise: He’s a master of compliments that don’t feel like compliments until you think about them later.
"You’re too brilliant for this school, you know that?""How do you manage to look stunning even when you’re furious with me?""You’re the only person who’s ever managed to make me lose focus, mia cara."
Subtle Acts of Service: He’s always doing things for you without making a big deal out of it. Your favorite quill broke? There’s a new one on your desk the next day. You’re stressed about a test? He’ll quiz you until you feel confident (and then reward you with a kiss for every right answer).
The Praise Kink Is Real, Babe:Theo doesn’t just praise you to make you feel good. He needs you to know how much he adores you. Whether it’s your intelligence, your kindness, or just the way you look in his sweater, he’s always quick to remind you of your worth.
"You’re too good for me, you know that?" he murmurs against your ear, his hand resting on your hip. "But don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you go."
(Is it hot in here or is it just Theo?)
The Possessiveness Comes Out in Subtle Ways:
At parties, his hand is always resting somewhere on you—your lower back, your shoulder, your thigh. A quiet signal to everyone else: She’s mine.
If someone flirts with you, he doesn’t cause a scene. Instead, he’ll step in with that dangerously calm demeanor, his words laced with thinly veiled threats.
"I believe you’re in my seat." Translation: Touch her again, and you’ll regret it.
Theodore, the Unexpected Softie:For someone so composed, Theo is surprisingly soft when it’s just the two of you.
He loves curling up with you on the couch, one arm draped over your shoulders while he reads aloud from a book he thinks you’d enjoy.
Sleeps with one hand always touching you—your waist, your hand, your hair. It’s the only time he truly relaxes.
Occasionally whispers “I don’t deserve you” when he thinks you’re asleep.
Having Theo as a boyfriend is a rollercoaster of intensity and tenderness. He’s the type to protect you from the world while also making you feel like you’re the center of his universe. And honestly? We’d ride that roller coaster over and over again.
Theodore Nott | Obsessive Devotion
If Mattheo is chaos in bed, Theodore is calculated destruction. Theo doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time. He knows every move, every word, every touch is designed to drive you absolutely insane.
The Slow Burn King:Theo isn’t just about getting you off; he’s about making you beg. He’s not the type to drag you into the nearest broom closet and go at it like a madman. No, Theo prefers to let the tension build—catching your eye across the library with a smirk, his hand brushing yours during dinner, leaning in close to whisper something sinful in your ear when no one else is looking.
"You’re squirming, mia cara. Tell me, what’s on your mind?"
Possessive but Polished:He loves control—holding you still with a firm grip while his mouth works wonders between your thighs. Theo thrives on the sound of your moans and whimpers, each one a confirmation that you belong to him.
But don’t get it twisted: his possessiveness is refined. He’s not shouting it from the rooftops; instead, he’s branding it into your skin with every kiss, every bite, every low growl of, “Mine.”
(We love a man who can ruin our lives with just one look.)
Praise You Like a Goddess:Theo is the king of praise. He’s not subtle about how much he worships you, and he makes sure you know it.
"You’re so perfect, amore mio. I could stay like this forever, just watching you fall apart for me."
He’ll kiss every inch of your skin like it’s holy ground. He’ll tell you how beautiful you are when you’re flushed, trembling, and completely at his mercy.
And if you praise him back? Game over. Tell him he’s a good boy, and suddenly you’ve unlocked the most obedient, eager-to-please version of Theo. He’ll do anything to hear you say it again.
Control with a Dash of Chaos:Theo’s not loud, but his intensity is deafening. He thrives on being in control, but sometimes he loves to break his own rules. If you push him just enough—maybe tease him in public or drag him into a forbidden situation—he’ll snap in the most delicious way.
"You think you can play games with me? Let me show you how this ends, bella."
Experimentation, but Make It Sophisticated:Theo isn’t one to dive into wild kinks without purpose, but he’s creative when it comes to trying new things.
Silk ties? Check.
Blindfolds? Of course.
Whispering Latin endearments in your ear while he has you completely at his mercy? A standard Tuesday night.
And don’t get me started on the way he uses his fingers—this man could write symphonies with how skillfully he plays your body like an instrument.
Stamina for Days:Don’t let his cool demeanor fool you—Theo can and will go for hours. He has the patience to draw out every moment until you’re gasping and begging for release, and then he’ll do it all over again.
"Oh no, dolcezza. We’re not finished yet. Not until I’ve had my fill of you."
Switch Theo = UNLOCKED:Normally, Theo’s the one in control, but when you take charge? When you straddle his hips, grip his jaw, and order him to behave? He’s putty in your hands.
"Tell me what you want, bella. Anything—it’s yours."
And the best part? He loves it. Watching you take what you want from him, hearing you praise him as he falls apart under your touch—it’s enough to drive him to the brink every single time.
In Private, He’s All Yours:While Theo keeps his emotions tightly guarded in public, behind closed doors, he’s all in. He loves to hold you afterward, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings as you both come down from the high.
"You’re everything, you know that? My whole world."
Having Theodore Nott as a lover is like being the muse of a masterpiece—every touch, every word, every moment is designed to make you feel like the most desired person on the planet. And honestly? We’re not complaining
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Please like, Reblog, and comment.
1K notes · View notes
ghostfacd · 1 year ago
Text
IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him
AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!
Tumblr media
tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?
tagged @/ynuser
view all comments
ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously
user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god
user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways
user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better
➥ user4 well someone had to say it..
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.
It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.
The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.
Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.
You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.
Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Tumblr media
tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters
view all comments
user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her
user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS
user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹
tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth
rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊
user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol
➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”
➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️
view all comments
user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single
user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??
user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵
ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts
user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg
Tumblr media
ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!
view all comments
tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too
➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED
user14 literal unbothered icon i love her
user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”
iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY
lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻
➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate
user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot
Tumblr media
tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso
tagged @/ynuser
view all comments
ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth
user18 ok who’s cutting onions
user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS
➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐
user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys
user22 parentssss
rachelzegler my favorites
Tumblr media
ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS
view all comments
tomblyth yn, i love you but
➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence
user24 the second pic thank u yn
joshandresrivera on top of u maybe
➥ user25 IM DYING OML
user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever
5K notes · View notes
mwagneto · 4 months ago
Text
hungarian/nomadic magyar tumblr circa 998AD dashboard simulator
Tumblr media
🏞️ vándor-ló-979 Follow
not yall still spreading emese's foundation myth??? she literally claims she fucked a bird????? like either she's lying or she cheated and she's trying to cover it up or well. i dont even want to consider the third option
🪺 magánügyek Follow
tengri forbid women do anything???
735 notes
Tumblr media
🦅 szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow
okay im sick of the discourse let's do this.
8,572 notes
Tumblr media
🐎 istván-rovására Follow
Tumblr media
that took so long lmao -> !!!!!!!∧◇ᛏ⋈∧
481 notes
Tumblr media
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
i'm so serious rn if you support """istván""" in any way just unfollow and block me. we do NOT need him or his dumbass god and what he's been doing to our people to spread his religion is shameful.
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
btw we all know your real name is vajk stop larping as a christian it's EMBARRASSINGGGG
✝️ esztergom-örökké Follow
love seeing my mutuals reblogging this /s anyway op has multiple posts on their blog supporting quartering and human sacrifice. in case you were wondering. anyway stand with István
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
1) we dont even do human sacrifices, are you fucking stupid??? show me ONE post where i talk about that. 2) are you seriously forgetting that your bestie istván LITERALLY QUARTERED HIS UNCLE?????
#sorry to put this dumbass on the dash😭 dont even engage just block them #ur not making it up the tree of life lmao #discourse
3,264 notes
Tumblr media
🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow
friendly reminder that just because you're white passing doesn't mean you're not a real magyar!! people with mixed parents are just as valid <3
🏇 attila-népe Follow
cranky coz ur ancestors decided to mix with the europeans arent you
🧺 lemezelő Follow
isnt your girlfriend literally frankish????
🏇 attila-népe Follow
you had to have done some serious stalking to find that💀 and first of all i didn't have a choice, my parents picked the tribe, and second of all she's not my "girlfriend" i got her via ritual kidnapping (WITH consent. before anyone gets weird)
🌐 a-kiber-kovács Follow
Couldn't you have kidnapped another magyar woman? Or someone from another mongoloid tribe?
🔅 hadúrsimp Follow
ohh sure so now human pet guy is gonna chime in to advocate for the kidnapping of our women while being lowkey racist. what are you even doing on nomadblr????
🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow
what the fuck happened to my post
19,276 notes
Tumblr media
🪔 rakabonciás Follow
for the nth time, you're only a true shaman if you were born with teeth OR with extra fingers OR in the sac. the rest of you are faking & we can tell.
🦅szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow
okay people keep spreading this but this is literally just wrong?? like congrats on the 6 fingers op im glad u and Little Golden Father have a special connection (genuinely) but like. táltos and sámán and mágus and garabonciás and javas etc are all different things with completely different requirements and life paths which you should definitely know if you're claiming to be one?? especially since your post says shaman but you're listing the criteria for a táltos, and your username looks like a play on garabonciás so. which is it🤔 maybe get your facts in order before trying to gatekeep
anyway don't listen to op!! your connection to the Upper World is yours alone and you're the best judge of what the Fathers and Mothers want your path in life to be!!
646 notes
Tumblr media
🛐 mea-culpa Follow
It breaks my heart that the majority of my people still refuse to see the One True God and insist on sticking to their pagan spirits. I fear that when judgement day comes, we will all be wiped out thanks to their foul godless ways.
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
how tf am i godless when i literally have dozens of gods? little mothers and little fathers are in everything all around us & it must suck ass to live in a world where you're not surrounded by the small gods that inhabit everything. manifesting that the fene and the guta tag team beat your ass tonight
🔅 hadúrsimp Follow
hadúr will literally strike op down personally. he told me himself. whispered it to me sweetly even
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
while i agree with you, i feel like you might also have ulterior motives, nomadblr user hadúrsimp
#but live your truth! doubly so on the posts of these freak repressed bible lovers. meanwhile on the #COOL side of magyarhood we walk around butt ass naked!!! op have fun never experiencing joy ever again tho #discourse
198 notes
Tumblr media
👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
posting from an alt so i don't get cancelled but lowkey i'm starting to think koppány was right.... maybe this christianity thing isn't gonna work out after all
👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
WRONG BLOG
👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
THIS WAS A JOKE. IGNORE THIS
🪺 magánügyek Follow
ISTVÁN????????????? 💀
1K notes · View notes
alllgator-blood · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
FINISHED THAT ONE COMIC I POSTED ABOUT ALMOST 30 FULL DAYS AGO?? I FINALLY REMEMBERED IT EXISTED AND FINISHED IT. I HAVE SO MUCH I WANT TO SAY ABOUT MY LAMB NOW THAT THEY'RE FINALLY THE MAIN CHARACTER IN A LONG COMIC, BUT it went on forever so I put it below the cut.
While we're above the cut, I have a bunch of REALLy good asks I'll be trying to draw for soon. But keep an eye out for a poll coming up soon...cause now that this is out of the way, I want another big project to have in the background and I have Big Ideas for Big Angst Comics........
OH YOU CLICKED THE THING, NICE. OKAY. SO:
Have I ever talked about how my lamb works?? I need to do more with them but I'm a bishop enjoyer to an obsessive degree. The lamb operates on the same kind of level as kallamar did during the breakdown comic, but on a more permanent, more stable level. After being told to hide for their whole life, to never show their face and not even being given a name......being beheaded by four gods and recruited by a fifth forgotten one who claims they're the Chosen One just made the lamb think "OH! None of this is real. My brain wanted me to feel important before I died, and this is my dying vision. Okay, I'll play along >:)" and now they're the equivalent of when you beat a game and replay it while picking the funniest/worst options to see what'd happen.
USUALLY their decisions are clouded by the assumption that nothing they do actually matters, but they're still......a person who held things dear and had standards while they were alive. So they love hijinx, but aren't like leshy who launches people out of catapults for fun, or kallamar who sees mortals more as lab rats than people living their own lives. They'll do some things for the lolz but their humanity definitely shows through when dealing with someone like shamura.
I think they went into the bishop slaying quest wanting to hate shamura, assuming they were an irredeemable antagonist that deserved to be vanquished. They were told by narinder that shamura was the big bad, so they figured there was nothing to it beyond that. But then they actually MET shamura, who wasn't at all what they were expected to be. Every other bishop is just like "RAHH I'LL KILL YOU" when you meet them, and then shamura is the only person who actually tells you about what happened, speaks to you like a person and not an obstacle, and doesn't seem bothered about the fact they're going to die. So that got them thinking....hmm...perhaps these people are slightly more realistic than I anticipated. Still gonna kill them tho
I'm not sure the lamb hates the bishops, especially after the realization that they're a fucked up family acting out in desperation rather than logic. When you're born into circumstances you know will eventually doom you (like being a sacrificial lamb destined for slaughter) you kinda...lose the ability to care after a while. They don't really *forgive* the bishops for the slaughter of their people, and definitely enjoy bullying them and kicking them around now that they're powerless mortals- but the initial horror of being born to die has subsided. Now that they're presumably in some kind of afterlife, and have better, more fun things to move onto now that they're the ruler of everything- it's not worth it to hate those five forever.
I think *because* the lamb has only been a god very briefly and still remembers mortality well, that's why they're the one god who does things "because they're funny" but also is respectful of people like shamura. It's like when you're playing GTA V and you accidentally drive over a dog while trying to pull over and look at it closer. Is it a real dog?? No but you're still gonna feel bad!! So like I said, in the lamb's mind they have NO reason to care about any of these people or show them mercy, but the fact that they're not as detached from mortality as the bishops were makes them a benevolent god. I'll be doing a comic about this very subject in the future and it WILL be depressing >:)
Also. Unrelated. But if you read this far, I feel the need to justify why heket and leshy suddenly have boobs in this comic. I'm sure it's obvious that I headcanon the gods don't have sex characteristics cause like...why would they need those. I don't want to draw that. But as MORTALS they would probably need to have all their organs intact to function properly, so pour one out for shamura + leshy who probably completely forgot they were transgender until they woke up in mortal bodies. NOT SURE HOW KALLAMAR WOULD REACT, I think they're more just horrified they lost all their tentacles
I debated doing another silly comic about the concept but I don't want this blog to get too raunchy, so instead have this epic ms paint art (I CAN MAKE THESE JOKES, I'M AFAB TRANS I DESERVE THIS ONE THING)
Tumblr media
742 notes · View notes
warmilikeit · 9 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)
Female reader
Prologue- Dead mom
______________________________
You woke up as a baby, daughter of a waitress and some unknown guy, your grandmother (mom's mom) kept telling you that you were weighing her daughter's life down, whatever, that old hag died a few months after you were born
It was bad enough that you were born poor, it's the fact that you were born poor in GOTHAM
Fake Mom was a waitress and she worked with a catering job, at one of her jobs, at a charity gala with some rich people, she had sex with a rich dude there, she didn't know she was pregnant and you were a surprise
But it didn't matter, you were hers and she loved you, she didn't have much to give you because you were poor, but what little thing she had, she gave to you
That meant nothing to you, she wasn't your actual mom, your real mom had a nice crib for you to sleep in, not some moldy probably a 4th hand one, your real mom took time off her work to properly take care of you, not put you in a baby carrier and bring you to jobs like cashier, janitress and other stuff
She wasn't your actual mom.
You didn't care, you're not supposed to care.
You were merely 6 months old, at your crib, you were trying to sleep, key word. Try, but your fake mom's cries were too loud, you didn't understand her anguish, it was just a fever, you've had fevers before, why is your fake mom freaking out about your fever now
"I'm so sorry my baby... Mommy can't afford to buy the medicine-" she stops as she hears your heavy breathing, you are struggling to breathe "mommy is very selfish... If I gave you to your dad, he could get you the medicine, maybe you wouldn't get sick at all- but that would mean you are away from mommy- I'm really sorry baby.... I'll work harder"
She took a wet cloth and placed it on your forehead, she hung her head low and cried
You thought she was being dramatic, all this crying for a fever?
______________________________
Now you're 6, you don't know if fake mommy is stupid or what but there's no light and the electric fan stopped spinning, there was only one fan in your apartment, did she forget to pay the electric bill or... Did you guys not have enough money, you can't ask her that because fake mommy is at work, who leaves a 6 year old at home!?
If fake mommy can't pay, you'll do something about it, you were not going to spend a hot night without a fan, you go to explore and you grab some wild flowers off the streets and tie them with long leaves, then you sell
You forgot to leave a note.
When you get home, there's cops, your fake mom is crying and she sees you, she runs to hug "God! (Name) Where did- did you go, I- was so worried!" She cried and sobbed, the cops went away after some time
You hand her 12 dollars "I sold flowers, 2 dollars a bouquet, the lights went out, so I sold, we don't have any money to pay right?"
Your fake mom smiles at you, "my thoughtful baby... Mommy just forgot to pay because... Mommy enrolled you in school!" She said excitedly,You raised your eyebrows "how much money do we have? Won't we go bankrupt?"
But your fake mom is crazy because she just laughs and hugs you
You hated being poor, being poor means you get bullied, it means you can't buy the stuff you want, it means using stuff someone else already used, it means your lunch would also be your dinner
You hated it
Because it also meant being looked down on, being the smartest kid in class (ofc) means nothing if your school bag had holes and patched up, it meant sometimes you'll see other kids your age buy something you wanted
It didn't matter, you could make do, you avoided being bullied and actually became popular by showing off, you landed bottle flips, you could do a handstand, needless to say, you were definitely invited to birthday parties, plus you were smart and well-behaved, parents and teachers love you, it didn't matter if you brought a present or not, all that matters is your presence
And when your birthday rolled around, the kids got used to the fact you were too poor to hold a birthday party, that didn't matter to them, to those kids and parents, you were the kindest person they've ever met, so they gave you presents, at first you tried to refuse (because you were ashamed you couldn't give them anything that's not handmade to their parties) but they insisted
Your fake mom was always busy, with so many jobs, she couldn't attend all award ceremonies and PTC's
You just won for the best science project in the fair (despite having the least resources), you were fine with fake mom not being able to attend the award ceremony, she was out cleaning someone's house after all
"where is her mom?"
"I don't know, but that poor kid, she's so sweet and smart, I feel bad that she has a mother like that"
"I heard (Name)'s mother got pregnant with (Name) while she was at college, thank God that (Name) won't end up like her, how could such a talented girl end up with a mother like that? She couldn't even attend her own daughter's award ceremony"
"the mom is probably off somewhere sucking someone's dick, if she gets pregnant again, I hope the kid takes after (Name)"
"(Name)! Sweetheart! Mommy's here! Oh sorry I'm late, I was at work" you fake mom smiles as she runs at you, she looks at your blue ribbon and hugs you "You're so smart baby! Mommy is so proud"
______________________________
You're 8 and you earn 5 dollars for every lawn you cut grass for, some of the people even give you snacks! You're already an entrepreneur! You smile to yourself, you weren't going to be like your fake mom, you were going to be rich, so maybe you and fake mom can get out of the cockroach infested house and fake mom won't work for an awful manager who hits on her and she won't clean toilets just so the both of you have something to eat
You come home with 40 dollars, you plan to give 30 to your fake mom for the bills and you keep 10 as a reward, but when you open the door your met with a bang
A bang from a party popper "Happy birthday my sweetheart!" Fake mom says
You look at the cake and decorations, you sigh, the money out in this could have been used for groceries
Your fake mom seemed to read your mind "Oh hush my baby, it's only once a year! Plus this is nothing to what you do for my birthday!"
That's a lie, your fake mommy is lying, your birthday decorations for her were handmade by you and her cake was just a muffin because you couldn't afford something more expensive, your birthdays were much more grander than hers
You give her the 30 dollars, you try to give her, but it seemed to make her sad, he smile wore off
Did you do something? Shouldn't she be happy? You were providing and helping!
"I'm sorry you think you have to do this my baby... You should be playing outside- not- not working, I want you to be a kid! Don't work anymore okay?"
But you're not a kid okay! You're reincarnated! And your previous life was much better than now!
So your fake mom should just let you help! Because you're trying to make things easier for her, why won't she let you help!?
But you keep it all to yourself and you and your fake mommy celebrate your fake birthday
______________________________
You're 10, and your fake mom seems... Weaker?? Is that how you put it? Her eye bags seem darker and her skin looks paler, you don't like this look from her, your fake mom is a pretty woman, who would have married good if it weren't for you, nevermind
You don't want your fake mom getting ugly, so every 9:00 pm you crash into her work place and you don't care if she still needs to keep on working and her shift ends at 9:30, your fake mom needs sleep! Someone else can cover for her
It's her birthday when she starts coughing, she starts coughing bad. The sounds were coarse and harsh, it hurt to even hear the coughs, you didn't want to know how it felt like
She grabs a tissue and coughs into it, you're sure you saw blood
Usually you're a master of minding their own business, but this time you rummage, you rummage through your mom's fake mom's room, and you find it, doctor appointments, medical certificates (when did she even go to the hospital!?), fake mom is sick, really sick, why didn't she tell you???
When your fake mom gets home, you show her what you found, instead of confronting you she acts like it's nothing, you get mad, of course you do, why wouldn't you?
"Mom are you crazy? Why didn't you tell me? The bill is huge? And why would you keep on working!? Did you forget what a sick person does? They rest!" You cry yell
She just smiled at you??? Is this woman crazy? "What was I supposed to do? Sweetheart, these things are for me okay? Don't worry about it, I'll be fine... Did you do your homework? If you haven't I can help you"
"I did... Mom?"
"Yes?"
"I want you to pull me out of school" you say
"what why? Are you being bullied? You can tell me"
"No I'm not! If you pull me out of school, instead of worrying about my tuition, you could just pay for your medical bills and actually buy yourself some medicine and get better!"
Fake mom turns silent "You don't have to do that"
"it's the only way! We can't afford both my school and your hospital bills! Mom! Your health is much more important than some certificates! And while I'm out of school I can work as well, even though I get paid a little, money is still money I can give to you-"
"NO! A mother's job is to provide for their kids and your my kid! You don't have to go to work, you don't have to stop going to school, you don't have to think about whether you'll be able to eat tommorow and the day after that, you're a kid! You're my baby! Stop worrying about me and instead, worry about boys you like or girls you like, worry about— I want you to be a kid"
You clench your fists "How can I be!?!? You think I don't hear you!? You come home when I'm supposedly asleep so you can cry about not being able to give a better life, I can hear you! I hear everything! You hate that your manager flirts with you! You hate that the mother's at school talks about you! You hate that I'm the only kid in school who can't afford a birthday party!, I'm trying to help! I can bring in money! I tutor, I babysit, I mow lawns, I can do more if I'm out of school!" At this point you're crying
Fake mom has never yelled at you, never. Whenever you get mad she hugs you and kisses you forehead, why is she yelling at you, you just want what's best for her
______________________________
You didn't care, after school you took on more jobs, you even started doing your classmate's homework and homework from higher and lower grades for money
Fake mom's medicine... It was expensive, that didn't matter, you'll work harder, you were so tired
You started selling bread for a family bakery who felt bad for you, that kind of money doesn't come up in thin air
But you were going to try
And you did, you really did, you did whatever you could
You and fake mom had another argument when you found out she got life insurance and placed you as the sole beneficiary
Fake mom's illness got so bad that she had to quit her jobs because she didn't have the strength to even walk, the amount of blood that comes out every time she coughs kept increasing
You stopped going to school to work more, you started to sweep and mop up for local grocery stores, the owner being a dad of one of your classmates
You knew your mom wouldn't approve, so you fed her with fake science fairs, fake school plays you had to practice for so she wouldn't get suspicious why you returned home late
"Don't stay out so late sweetheart, the riddler just escaped Arkham" your fake mom would warn you with a hint of love in her voice
If you could just make it work, even for half of the money you need, maybe you could put a down payment, and they'd give you the medicine and you'll pay them back later
So why wasn't your fake mom waking up?
You got home, after grueling hours of painting fences, you plan to tell your fake mom that you were just painting some backdrops for a school play
"Mommy?" You call out, you expect your fake mom to be either watching on a broken down TV or probably sewing some of your clothes with holes on them
It's eerie quiet, a quiet you don't like "Mama?" You see her in a chair, asleep and eyes closed
Is she that tired? "Mommy, do you want noodles? I'll make some?"
....
.........
"Mommy?"
You shake her body trying to wake her
Nothing.
"Mommy?"
Your heart drops "No... No. No. No. No. No. No... No!" You keep shaking and shaking her but nothing, it was then you notice her lips have gone horrifyingly pale
"no.. this- this- help! Someone help us please!" You yell trying to call your neighbors, someone, anyone!
______________________________
"I'm sorry kid, Your mom's gone, we'll try to find any other relatives you have" the police officer looks at you with pity
"I don't have any relatives left" you say
You're not going to cry, why would you? She wasn't your real mom, she- she....
Fuck, now you're crying, you're doing what you said you wouldn't do
The officer knelt to you and hugged you "We'll find you another loving family, one that will buy you toys and-"
"I don't want another loving family! I want my mommy! I want my mom" you cry
"it's okay... Everything is going to be okay" he pats your back
After a few days at the orphanage, the news came, everyone was shocked, a few staff who got attached to you were happy you'll be with someone who could provide, a few staff who also got attached to you angry that he abandoned such a sweet girl, a DNA match to the one and only Bruce Wayne, that man is your father.
You stand In front of doors a hundred times bigger than you, you see him- no you see them.
The infamous Wayne family, all in their glory
"Father, will it stay with us permanently" Damian asks
Dick the older one laughed and responded "Unfortunately for her, she will stay here"
Holy shit, you think
Holy shit.
Is this? No it can't be...
You refuse to believe you reincarnated in a Batfam x neglected reader story- surely not-
Welcome Reader! To the Neglected AU!
Prologue: dead mom- finished
Progress:100%
Chapter 1: "I wished I stayed at the orphanage"- start!
Progress: 0%
The screen appears In front of you
"Fuck" you whisper
______________________________
Alr so technically this is the prologue, "yes" won Soo...
Also goodbye mom
My ass wrote this with a fever, while playing chess with my cousin, I'm built diff like that
Also I won, if you want pics of the chessboard and the thermometer I'll provide🔥
643 notes · View notes
redwinelew · 2 months ago
Text
you're my best friend | lewis hamilton [1/3]
social media au. black + actress!reader
summary — you and lewis have been the best of friends for years but the world thinks there might be something more. until.... (read part two here)
face claim — taylor russell
song — you are in love by taylor swift (taylor's version)
warnings — fluff (for now, more angst in the future lol), inconsistent timeline, lmk what else i missed
author's note — as always pls ignore the dates, time, likes, rts etc i really can't be bothered to change them 😭😭
all pictures taken from pinterest. credit to owners.
Tumblr media
instagram!
Tumblr media
liked by hoooooyeony, ayoedebiri and 2,473,928 others
tagged ynln
lewishamilton happy birthday to the girl who always puts the biggest smile on my face. i love you sweetheart.
view all 4,847 comments
user1 the caption is so fucking insane lmfao
user2 show this post to someone who doesn't know who they are and i bet that person will most definitely that they're dating
user3 user2 ???? are friends not allowed to wish each other happy birthday now or did i miss something
user2 user3 not with that kind of caption no you don't lmfao
francolapinto happy birthday ynln !
ynln francolapinto thank you franco!! ❤️❤️
user4 they're just friends yall they've been friends for years pls
user2 user4 uh huh yeah sure jane
user5 user2 maybe don't speculate about real people's personal life??
user2 user5 can't i'm too nosy
user5 user2 ok yk what what's kinda valid
user6 thank god they're just friends actually cause otherwise the age gap would be insane
user7 user6 1) none of your business if they're dating or not 2) she's a grown 30 year old woman???? istg why can't yall just let ppl be happy
chappellroan happy birthday baddie
ynln chappellroan *totally not freaking out that my fave singer just wished my happy birthday* thank u queen!!
user8 ynln bestie that is SO real of u
ynln you're extra sappy today
lewishamilton ynln it's your birthday of course i'm sappy. i'm always sappy for you.
ynln lewishamilton loser
lewishamilton ynln just for you
user9 ynln lewishamilton i'm gonna jump off a cliff
twitter!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
instagram!
Tumblr media
liked by mercedesamgf1, tomholland1996 and 5,387,282 others
tagged lewishamilton and mercedesamgf1
ynln i was lucky to have been there during your glory days, but i think i was even luckier to get to support you through one of the most difficult moments in your career and maybe even your life back in 2021 because i know that those dark days would not last forever. i hope you know that you deserve every bit of this win, my darling angel. i love you so much lewishamilton.
view all 7,383 comments
user1 i feel so normal about this caption
user2 what kind of friends call each other sweetheart and my darling angel
user3 user2 ikr like atp they're def oblivious
user4 user3 or maybe they're just scared to confess bcs they don't want to ruin their friendship
user5 user2 there's no way that they're dating like have u guys seen his dating history? he likes older women (nicole, shakira). yn is only 30. maybe they really are just friends
user6 user5 yeah now that u mention her age...... kinda weird to ship them idk
user7 user6 girl she's a grown ass adult woman tf are u on about 😭😭
zendaya send my congrats to him ❤️❤️
ynln zendaya i will!!
messages!
Tumblr media
twitter!
Tumblr media
messages!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
— thank you for reading! part 2 is coming soon <33 as always reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated!!
638 notes · View notes
monzamash · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
easy to please lando norris x you rating – mature (sexual themes, coarse language) blurb for ✨monzamusings✨
Tumblr media
thinking about u, the text read. above it, there was a photo – dark, a little bit blurry, possibly a figment of your weary imagination. a hand pressing down on black cotton, tanned and veiny – a hand you immediately recognised. fingers too, gripping the thin material and an outline that had you sitting up in bed, lazy smile slipping across your flushed cheeks as the picture came into focus. lip bitten. baby, was all you sent in reply. your eyelids fluttered shut momentarily, loosing the battle to sleep until you felt your phone buzzing, resting in your slack hand. they were coming thick and fast and bringing you back into the present. your fingers tingled from the sensation when you held it up and nearly dropped the bright screen on your squinting forehead. don’t baby me i miss u can i call please???? winky face emoji.
you sighed sharply into the plush pillow beside your head, wondering whether or not you had the energy for it. the appetite was always there. hell – all you could think about was him; even in the mundane moments, he was everywhere you looked – your work, your friends, the cheesy rom com that made you cry before wrapping yourself up in a blanket and falling asleep. you missed him. the back and forth, the will they won’t they bullshit nearly sending you into a spiral of complete and utter confusion. the future was uncertain; the distance between where you were and wherever he was in the world unbearable but what you did know was that you loved him, missed him. and he was yours.
heartbreakingly so. alright romeo but make it quick always am hehe. dickhead.
the phone call connected after one, maybe half a ring – there was no pretence anymore with you and lando. this was routine now, the late night calls across oceans, and it was always the same. whispered, i miss you's and i love you's, strangled moans, hands frantically chasing the high of what you knew felt like heaven together, by whatever means necessary, the best dirty talk you could ever imagine, barely tiding you over until you could be close enough to feel each other again.
“hi pretty girl.”
“hi boyfriend”
“ugh, i love it when you call me that. say it again…”
and you did, over and over until the late night giggles took hold and lando couldn’t breathe – the goofy smile scrunching the corners of his dry eyes, fatigue and exhaustion lingering in his hoarse voice.
“you should be sleeping.”
“i would be if you were here,” he stated matter of fact, not even a blinking, “i think i got used to having you with me over winter break… spoiled me too much and now i'm ruined for life.”
“so dramatic.”
“i’m being so real,” he yawned and by the soft grumble on the other end, he was definitely stretching out his sore, weary muscles like cat. there was a beat and a click of the tongue before lando spoke again, the ominous silence already making your eyes playfully roll.
“so… what are you wearing right now?”
“unbelievable…”
“you cant blame a man for asking, especially in my hour of need… show me pleeeeease” lando whined, toothy smile no doubt lining his chapped lips.
“what if I’m not wearing anything?” you taunted, snapping a quick photo and sending it through without a second thought.
lando quickly peaked, side-eyeing the screen sneakily and sighed when he realised you were pulling his chain, “i'm wearing some shirt you left behind because it’s hotter than satan's asshole here in london at the moment.”
he groaned more to himself than to you, eyes scanning your curves under the thin material, fixated on how unconstricted you were under the shirt he recognised, breasts pert. lando was restless and you really did deserve more than the desperado ‘what are you wearing’ pick up line but god, he wanted to know, no, he needed to know because if he didn't find out, he feared he may never recover.
after all, it was you that had him sick in love. and perpetually horny.
“think i might like you in my clothes more than naked…"
“you’re a sicko.”
“mmm you make me like this… and no bra, like are you trying to kill me?”
“always.”
you cupped your chest over his shirt and took another photo, teasing the gorgeous man waiting for your every move with bated breath. he’d sucked in his bottom lip, you could hear by how shallow his breathing had become, reminiscent of a panting dog – the sound alone quickened your heart rate. the image of him sitting in a hotel room alone, hand pressed to his aching cock thinking about you, parched to the point of a sleepless night was dizzying.
and it was easy with lando, the familiarity of his voice and the rhythm you effortlessly fell into. all remnants of consciousness melted away with him.
“wish i was there with you baby,” he whispered and you nodded, smiling, even though he couldn’t see how happy it made you to hear him say it.
“me too,” you sighed, relaxing into the stillness until your loud, obnoxious doorbell shook you from the peaceful silence.
“fuck!” you cursed, frozen in place.
“what?” 
“someones at the door…”
“what time is it there?”
“like 11pm… should i ignore it?” you were already grabbing the cardigan you'd thrown over the end of your bed and halfway to the door, curiosity winning out.
“nah, nah. you’re on the phone with me – answer it,” he encouraged, “i wanna make sure it isn’t your side piece coming ‘round when i’m not there.”
“ha-ha, actually my other boyfriend is already here, i've been trying to get you off the phone this whole time...”
"hmm, lucky cunt." he mumbled.
lando made you brave, stupidly brave so you swung the door open without hesitation, locked and loaded with a line of interrogating questions for the person interrupting the precious time you had with the man you love.
but you were hearing double as you held the phone to your ear and looked up – you knew that mess of frazzled curls and tired eyes anywhere, peering back with a smile the size of the moon curling at the corners of his lips. he was bundled up in a hoodie, one you knew would feel warm to the touch and smelled like him.
you had to be dreaming.
“better go tell your other boyfriend to pack his shit and get the fuck out of our house.”
“lando…” tears welled in your eyes as you lunged into his open arms.
“hi pretty girl…” he chuckled, picking you up without hesitation and hooked your legs around his waist, carrying you over the threshold.
“why didn’t you say you were coming home?”
“surprises are sexy, no?” he asked, voice deliciously low. he knew your answer.
“very sexy.” you moaned and pressed firm, fiery kisses into his strong neck, “you’re so sexy – all of this is sexy… god, i love you.”
“love you too sweetheart – let’s go to bed.”
“to sleep?” you asked, with doe-eyes and a devilish grin.
“yeah, i flew eleven fuckin' hours to just sleep… oh and by the way," lando narrowed his eyes and pointed to the crinkled shirt hanging from your shoulders, you looked a mess.
"i want my shirt back right now.”
you hummed and twirled down the hallway, “you’re gonna have to pry it off my cold, horny body, norris…”
“mission accepted,” lando confidently stated, chest puffed as he started stripping his hoodie from his body and inched closer and closer to where you were stood and all you could do was admire the gorgeous man stalking towards you.
oh, and blink a few times to make sure you definitely weren't dreaming, "i can't believe you were sexting me in the back of a cab."
“i know," he chuckled, "it was getting a bit much by the end there, so i walked the last couple of blocks to calm myself down."
you couldn't suppress the moan building in your throat at his touch and his confession – your mind was running wild, "that's so hot."
"you are." he quipped, hands slowly tracing your sides and cupping your chest in his warm palms.
"this is way better than phone sex.”
lando shrugged as you ran your hands down his toned stomach, thumbs circling the indents just above his hips, “i’ll take anything with you – it’s all good to me.”
“you’re easy to please.”
“well, you make it easy – god, look at you,” he exhaled, brushing the loose strands of hair from your face and all you could do was smile.
“i’m glad you’re home, ya goof. it doesn't feel right without you here."
“me too, baby. meee too.” lando smiled and planted a longing kiss to your pouty lips.
Tumblr media
more writing...
bit of backstory with this blurb; it was originally going to be a follow up to another fic i wrote called lost in japan and then got buried in the wip graveyard. somehow it resurfaced in my doc folder right when i needed it and i feel like it still kinda fits in the lost in japan universe - selfishly i love those characters. anyways, i hope you enjoyed it 💋
988 notes · View notes
touyaismycomfortboy · 13 days ago
Text
♡ mr. aizawa's wife....
Tumblr media
a/n: i'll probably most definitely write about husband aizawa with a wife who has a quirk, but for now here are some quirkless wife hcs <3 this is lowkey all over the place, all I've been thinking about is husband aizawa and what that would be like so i need to dump out all my thoughts and then I'll write smth more organized eventually
word count: 0.7k
synopsis: what it would be like to be aizawa's wife <3
pairing: shouta aizawa x fem!quirkless!reader
genre: headcanons? dump? i honestly dont know!! i'm just writing stuff fr <33
Tumblr media
you're not a pro-hero so you don't work at UA, but you're still there all the time. the heroes truly love you, you oftentimes get bored after your own job and bring the faculty fresh baked goods, typically leaving a big tray in the teachers' lounge but delivering aizawa's to him since he's always so busy with class.
the first time you met his new first years they were doing some training outside, you had just come by the school with a tray of peanut butter chocolate cookies and were about to deliver some to aizawa and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek before heading home.
when the girls of the class saw you walk up to aizawa out of the corner of their eyes and give him a kiss they gasped and stopped whatever they were doing.
aizawa panicked when he realized they saw and told them to get back to training, but they were already immediately approaching you and showering you with questions.
"oh my god mister aizawa has a wife?!" "how long have you two been together?!" "how did you guys meet?!" "what is aizawa like at home?"
you would laugh nervously and brush off their questions, whispering something to them about how aizawa is secretly a snuggle bug or something of that nature and usher them back to training, watching as they giggle and whisper to each other as they walk back, looking at aizawa and giggling some more.
aizawa isn't sure what you told them, but he'll "glare" at you for a moment with no real anger behind his stare, then mumble a quick "love you" before returning to work.
if you get off of work before him, he loves coming home and crawling into your arms, collapsing on top of you if you're lying on the couch.
he feels like a classy man when he wants to be. he'll be the kind of man to tell you to be ready at 7pm and to wear a nice outfit, and tell you he got you both a reservation at a restaurant.
he'll never tell you where it'll be, but he'll make sure to vet the menu beforehand just to make sure it has food you like so you never have to pretend to like something around him.
it will never be an insanely popular place with a bunch of people, but it'll always be nice. he doesn't like loud, crowded restaurants that are so loud he can barely taste the food in front of him, he loves quiet and intimate spaces with you.
if you ever volunteer to chaperone at a UA camp or dance or any other event, he always secretly loves watching you work with his students. he loves the chemistry you build with each of them and the effort you put into building friendships with them.
izuku loves to talk to you, he's always running up to you with his notebook asking questions about what the personal life of a pro hero is like and seeing if you have any anecdotes or fun facts about his quirk.
you're also one of the people all might lets see his true form before it's revealed to the public. you're always worrying over him, and he always brushes it off and tells you that he's okay, but you still check on him every time you visit UA.
as seen with how he acts around his students when something traumatic happens to them, he's very good at talking you through whenever you're sad. he's not a man of many words, but the words he does say leave an impact, and he always knows what to say.
he's not much for PDA, most people don't even know he has a wife until you just show up since he's so private, he prefers his intimate affairs stay intimate, he doesn't like everyone in his business or knowing how he acts around his wife.
nothing makes him feel guiltier than all the times you're awake for days on end next to his hospital bed after protecting his students from a dangerous situation. you understand why he does it, how important his students are to him, but still... seeing how destroyed his body gets after a villain encounter always makes you sick to your stomach, and you never feel quite at ease when he's working.
you both love taking naps together, if naps could be a love language that would be your guys'. you're always snuggling when alone and one thing will lead to another and you both end up snoozing on the couch for 30 minutes or so, something about being in each other's presence is so relaxing.
Tumblr media
416 notes · View notes