#it’s just not even a surprise to me anymore

[fireinmoonshot]

about love | joaquin torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Joaquin thinks taking the engagement ring he's bought for you on a mission with him is a good idea – it's definitely safer with him than it is anywhere else, right? Well... until he loses it. Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries (a bump on the head) Word Count: 4k A/N: Had this idea at work yesterday and thought it was so Joaquin so I had to write it. I'm so happy with how it turned out. Thank you for all the love on my Joaquin fics so far – I have more coming for sure, I have so many ideas in a note on my phone, as well as the requests you guys have sent in! 💗

“Woohoo! That was awesome!” Joaquin yells, his feet finally hitting the ground after being airborne for what feels like hours. He misses the feeling of flying already. “Did you see me?” He asks Sam, walking towards him.

Sam has just landed not too far away from him and is already sighing at the sound of Joaquin’s voice. “See what?”

“When I did the thing with the thing! And then I did the other thing and bam! He was falling out of the sky! I saw him land in the water and it did not look like a nice landing!” Joaquin explains, in probably the poorest possible terms.

For a second, Sam just stares at Joaquin. How is this the man that he’s basically picked to be the Falcon to his Cap? “Nothing about what you just said makes sense, bro.”

“Yeah, it does!” Joaquin insists. “I did the thing!”

Sam and Joaquin had been expecting this mission for weeks. Everything pointed towards things turning into a fight, but the location and time had been left to chance and eventually, things had turned out just as they’d expected. They hadn’t expected having to fight over the water, though. Sam was just glad things hadn’t turned out the way that they had the last time they’d fought over the top of the ocean.

“Just… go and get checked out by a medic,” Sam orders – the Air Force had been standing by, ready to help if Sam and Joaquin needed it. They luckily hadn’t. “You almost got hit out there. Don’t forget that I saw that.” 

Joaquin grins to himself as he watches Sam walk off, holding his shield by his side. “Come on, that was awesome, bro! And it was an almost hit – they didn’t even graze me!” 

“Tell that to your girlfriend!” Sam yells in reply.

At the reminder of you, Joaquin pauses. The ring. His hands move to the pocket where he’d placed the ring box before the mission and his heart drops into his stomach when he finds it empty.

“No, no, no, no…” 

Joaquin checks every other pocket in his suit, trying to keep hopeful for as long as possible, but it becomes clear very quickly that the ring box is no longer in his suit or even on his body at all anymore. This was not good… if it fell out during the mission… over the ocean… there was no way he was getting it back. Oh, he's so screwed.

He’d been planning to propose to you for over a month now but it had taken him a while to find the perfect ring. He’d scoured the internet and just about every jewellery shop in the city to find one he knew you’d love. When he and Sam left for the mission, he knew he had to take it with him. There was no other choice. What if his apartment was broken into while he was away and they stole the ring? Or worse, what if you came over to his place to get something of yours that you’d left behind and found it? It’d ruin the surprise.

In hindsight, Joaquin realises that maybe the ring would’ve been safer at home… instead of where it likely is now, sitting on the bottom of the ocean or… swallowed by a whale or something… poor whale…

The excitement at the success of the mission is long gone by the time he trudges his way to the medic, who is waiting to see him. He removes his suit slowly and carefully, all the while hoping that the ring will suddenly appear in one of the pockets, but it never does.

Later, as Joaquin sits in his hotel room, he can’t tear his eyes away from the confirmation email he’d received when he’d ordered your ring. It’d ended up being one he found online, but with a few custom alterations to make it more you. The ring was one of a kind, like he’d intended for it to be, because so were you. It made him even more disappointed that he’d never end up getting to give it to you. And now he had to fork out even more money to find a replacement. He knows nothing would ever live up to the original, even if you loved it.

His phone buzzes in his hands and your contact photo pops up on the screen, one he’d taken of you when you hadn’t been looking at him. He’s quick to accept the call, already feeling comforted by your voice the second you say hello.

“How did it go!?” You ask, voice full of joy. “I saw some footage on the TV. You guys looked so awesome out there. It’ll never get old, seeing you flying in that suit, even if it kinda fills me with dread that something might happen to you.”

Joaquin laughs softly. “Thanks, angel. It was good. We won.”

Just by his short reply you can tell that something is wrong. Even though you’re in an entirely different state and you can’t see his face, the fact that he’d not excitedly recounting every single detail of the battle to you says more than his words ever could.

“Joaquin, what’s wrong?” You’re not one to beat around the bush.

“Huh? Nothing’s wrong, angel. I’m just tired.”

“You’re usually so excited after a successful mission and today you sound the complete opposite. Did something happen?” A thought enters your mind. “Wait, did you get hurt? Are you in the hospital?” He hears shuffling on the other end of the line. “Have they got you hopped up on some kind of painkillers?”

Joaquin can’t help but smile a little. “Angel, stop trying to put your shoes on and pack a bag at the same time. I’m not in the hospital, I’m in my hotel room. And I’m not on any painkillers. The medics checked me after the mission and gave me the all clear.”

You pause. “How did you know I was trying to put my shoes on and pack a bag?”

“Cause I know you, that’s how,” he smiles to himself. “You get the thought in your head that I’m hurt and you’re already looking up flights. I’d be the same way if things were reversed, believe me.”

Back in your apartment, you kick off the one shoe you’d managed to get on and sit back down on the couch. “So why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Joaquin sighs. How can he tell you what’s wrong? That he’s actually devastated cause he lost the ring he was planning on proposing to you with? He can’t. He hates lying, especially when it comes to you, and now he’s being forced to lie to you because of his own mistake.

“I promise nothing is wrong, angel,” Joaquin tries to make his voice sound less sad. “I really am just tired. It takes a lot out of you, fighting in a battle like that. It’s one thing to be flying in a plane but to actually be the one flying… it’s a lot. I’ve still got a lot to get used to. I’m just ready for a solid twelve hour sleep.”

“Oh.” You’re not really convinced but for Joaquin’s sake, you decide to drop it. You can already tell that you’re not going to get anything else out of him. “Well, I suppose I’ll let you get your rest then if you’re that tired. You’re flying home tomorrow, right?”

Joaquin nods. “Yeah, my flight leaves at… four? Six? Something around then. Thank you for calling though, angel. Really. I always love getting to hear your voice before I fall asleep.”

You smile at the way you can audibly hear the happiness in his voice. “Any time, Joaquin. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? You get a good night sleep and I’ll text you in the morning. I love you.”

“Love you too, angel.”

With that, you end the call and Joaquin groans, letting his phone fall onto the bed and his head back onto the pillow behind him. Instead, though, his head bashes rather hard onto the wall behind the bed. He grunts in pain, a hand going to the back of his head to rub the sore spot. Yeah… that’s gonna leave a bump for sure… he probably deserves it…

It’s a few hours later and Joaquin is finally about to give up on staying awake and finally try and get some sleep when he hears a knock on the door of his room. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to pull himself up from the bed, his whole body aching from the activity of the day. When he pulls open his door, he’s more than surprised to see Sam on the other side.

“Listen, bro, I’m way too tired to have a post-mission debrief and drinks or something, so can we just do this in the morning?” Joaquin asks, already knowing Sam would prefer it.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Sam says. “Can I come in?”

Joaquin stifles a yawn and steps aside to let Sam into the room, closing the door behind him. Sam takes a seat at the small table and chairs over by the window and Joaquin takes the seat opposite him, not wanting to be disrespectful by sitting on the bed like he would much prefer to do – the chairs are not padded and not comfortable in the slightest.

“What’s up, Sam?” Joaquin questions, leaning back against the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. 

Sam shoves a hand into the pocket of his jacket and removes a small blue velvet box and slides it across the table towards Joaquin. He almost jumps out of his seat at the sight of it, instantly snatching it up and opening it. He sighs in relief as he sees the ring, safely inside the box, completely unharmed. 

“Bro, what the hell!?” Any of the exhaustion that was in Joaquin’s body is gone as he looks across the table at Sam. “Did you send someone to retrieve this or something? A dive team? How did you even know that I’d lost it?”

Sam smiles a little at the younger boys excitement. “Maybe this might teach you to secure your valuables a little better, hey?” He shakes his head. “It didn’t even make it to the ocean, Joaquin. It fell out of your pocket before we were even in the air. I saw it, picked it up. Decided to keep it safe.”

He knew that if he’d given it back to Joaquin then that it would be all he’d focus on for the mission. He’d be berating himself so strongly that he’d almost lost the ring that he wouldn’t be able to give his full attention to the mission. Sam had watched Joaquin get hurt before and if he had his way, he’d never see it again. 

“And it took you this long to give it back to me!? Bro, do you realise what this is? How important this is? How could you keep this from me?” Joaquin’s voice is raised but he isn’t angry – he’s still angry at himself for losing it in the first place. He’s more than grateful to Sam for keeping it safe, but now that he’d lied to you over the phone about it… all of that could have been avoided if Sam had given it to him sooner.

Sam sighs and leans back in his chair. “Damn, these things are uncomfortable,” he mutters. “Listen, your girl sent me a text like an hour ago. She was asking if you were okay or if you were hurt, if anything went badly in the mission, cause she said she called you and you were acting all weird. I only remembered then that I even had it. I put it in my suit to keep it safe during the mission. I realised that the reason you must’ve been acting weird was cause you realised that you’d lost it.”

“And it took you an hour to come down two floors to give it back?”

“Nah, it took me an hour of thinking to decide whether to give it back to you tonight or give it back to you in the morning, Joaquin,” Sam admits. “This… this is a serious thing you’re planning on doing. You know that, right? I know it’s not my place but I just… I just wanted to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Joaquin furrows his eyebrows. “Of course I know what I’m doing, Sam.”

“That came out wrong,” Sam huffs, then tries again. “I’m sure you have thought this out, but I just wanted to check in. You’re a public figure now. People know you’re the Falcon, they see you coming out on missions with me. People might target you now in an attempt to get to me. Your life is in more danger than it ever has been before. Even when you were serving in the Air Force full time. You sure your girl knows that too?”

One thing that Joaquin has always been confident about with you is that you knew the risks of dating him. You’d started dating him back when he was in the Air Force, long before he became Falcon. Throughout it all, you’d stuck by his side, even when he wondered if you wouldn’t. When people started commenting on his Instagram photos saying rather unsavoury things, or leaving rude comments about you, he wondered if it would scare you away from him. But it never did. You were completely loyal to him and he knew it. If you were affected by his job as the Falcon that much, you would’ve ended things long ago.

But you didn’t. You’d started making plans to move in with him instead, as soon as the lease on your apartment was up in two months time. You’d come over more often, spent more nights at his apartment. You’d made changes to your own life to accommodate his ever changing schedule. You were in this for real.

“She knows,” Joaquin nods. “I wouldn’t be asking her to marry me if she didn’t.”

Sam lets out a breath. “Okay, well… good. I just… I wanted to check. Make sure you weren’t rushing into things or asking her for some reason other than love.”

Joaquin smiles a little. He’s known for a long time that Sam is full of heart but this has reminded him. Despite all the sarcastic comments and jokes they make, Sam probably has a bigger heart than Joaquin himself. 

“Everything I do when it comes to her is about love, Sam, I promise you that.”

Not long after, Sam excuses himself and leaves the room, leaving Joaquin alone with the ring. The one he thought he’d lost forever, now sitting here on the table in front of him. Not a scratch or a lick of damage anywhere on it. Sam had done a good job taking care of it.

He crosses the room to grab his phone, still sitting on the bed where he’d left it, and sends you a quick text. Angel, you still awake?

Your reply comes almost instantly. You okay?

Joaquin sits down on the edge of his bed, eyes resting on the ring box on the table, and smiles. You got a spare thirty minutes to call so I can tell you all about how badass I was in the mission today? 

During the plane journey home, Joaquin decides that he needs to propose sooner rather than later. He doesn’t want to risk losing the ring again or something else happening to it. It’s why, when he gets back to his apartment, he calls you and asks if he can come over to your apartment the next night – he’ll bring some takeout for dinner. He’s more than relieved when you say yes, telling him you can’t wait.

But then the night comes and Joaquin is sitting beside you on your couch, your now empty takeout containers sitting on the coffee table in the centre of the room. He feels like his heart might beat right out of his chest with how nervous he is, but he thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at holding it together.

Joaquín takes a deep breath and turns to face you, clasping his hands together in his lap to force himself not to prematurely reach for the ring box in his jacket pocket. “So, I think I owe you an explanation for why I was weird on that phone call two days ago.”

You look at him, eyebrows raised. “Do you? I thought you were just tired. You ended up calling me back and talking about the mission with me so I thought it was all sorted.”

“It is sorted, but… well, I kind of lied to you in the first call,” he winces a little, hating to have to admit it to you even though he knows you’re not going to care once he explains everything properly. “Something happened after the mission and it really messed with my head but I couldn’t tell you about it then.”

He can see by the look on your face that you’re concerned about what he’s going to say. He hates worrying you like this and he doesn’t mean to drag it out so much but he’s also so nervous about what he’s about to do that he can’t help but stall.

“Joaquin, just tell me. Please.”

Your voice is small, full of a sudden fear, and just the simple act of hearing that is the encouragement that Joaquin needs to push him forward to do this, to tell you the truth and pull the ring box out of his pocket with a long, deep breath. 

“I took this with me on the mission to make sure nothing happened to it, but after the mission I realised that it had fallen out of my suit and I’d lost it,” Joaquin starts. His heart is in his throat at admitting all this to you and thinking about what is coming. “Turns out Sam had actually picked it up when it fell out prior to the mission. He came and gave it back to me after you texted him that you were worried about me.”

At seeing the ring box in his hands, tears immediately come to your eyes. This was what you were so worried about? You were so scared about what Joaquin was about to say, worried that some of your deep fears might be coming true, but instead it was your dreams that were coming true. 

You watch as Joaquin slowly moves from sitting on the edge of the couch to kneeling on the floor in front of you. He flips the ring box open, finally letting you lay eyes on the ring inside of it, and a sob erupts from you.

“I was gonna try and do this in a better way,” Joaquin chuckles. “I had all these ideas for plans of things to do, but in the end I decided that I just wanted it to be between us. I didn’t want anyones eyes on us while I did this, cause this is our moment.” He’d almost booked several restaurants, even almost booked flights to Paris to propose in front of the Eiffel Tower, but this was better than any of the plans he could’ve come up with. 

“I told Sam when he came to talk to me after you texted him that everything I do when it comes to you is about love,” he continues with a shaky breath. “You are the love of my life, angel. You have been ever since I first met you and I intend on loving you for the rest of my life if you’ll let me.” The words, which Joaquin had expected to be difficult to say when the time came, flow out of him with so much ease it surprises him. “So, I suppose what I should finally ask, since I know you’re thinking about how much you wish I would just ask the question and stop talking about everything else… is… will you marry me?”

You’re on the floor in front of him before Joaquin can even blink and in his next breath, your arms are wrapped around him, pressing your body to his. He laughs, a little shocked, as he wraps one of his arms around you, still holding the ring in the other hand. He can tell that you’re crying but he already knows they’re happy tears without having to see them. 

“So… is that a yes?” He asks, grinning.

“Of course it’s a yes!” You exclaim, pulling away from him. The look on his face makes you fall in love with him all over again. The way he’s smiling at you sets butterflies off in your stomach. “Will you put the ring on me?”

You extend your hand and Joaquin wastes no time in removing the ring from the box and sliding it onto your ring finger. He can’t keep smiling and his face is starting to hurt but he doesn’t care. He’ll deal with a sore face from smiling forever if it means seeing you this happy. The fact that he is the reason behind this smile makes him smile even harder.

“It’s so beautiful, Joaquin,” you marvel, unable to take your eyes off of it. 

“Just like the woman wearing it,” he says, unable to help himself. “I’m just glad I didn’t actually lose it in the middle of the ocean. I was just about ready to start a dive team to find it before Sam gave it back.”

You meet his eyes and laugh, shaking your head. “You’re an idiot, Joaquin Torres.”

“I might be, but at least I’m your idiot,” he grins.

With a smile, you lean forward and press your lips to his, wrapping one of your hands around the back of his neck. He kisses you back instantly, arms wrapping around you to hold you close. When your fingers make their way into his hair, though, he grunts a little in pain as they brush against the bump on the back of his head. He’d forgotten about that.

You pull away, eyes concerned. “Are you hurt? Did you get hurt on the mission?” 

Joaquin is quick to confirm that he isn’t. “I hit my head when I was in the hotel… this is so embarrassing to admit,” he laughs softly. “When I was still sad cause I thought I’d lost the ring, I leant back and hit the wall… a little harder than I intended to. I guess it left a bump… but it doesn’t mean you have to stop kissing me, y’know…”

Thankfully, you accept his poor reasoning for his sore head and kiss him again, your fingers moving out of his hair and instead resting on his shoulders. He’s already counting down the days till his head is fully healed – he loves the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

After that, you only break apart for air when you really need to.

“So… this means I can call you my fiancée now…” Joaquin mutters against your lips.

“Oh, that’s true… fiancé… I like how that sounds,” you hum in reply.

“I’m one step closer to being able to call you my wife now,” he says, smiling.

“Hold your horses, Joaquin,” you laugh, pulling away from him despite your desire to stay as close to him as humanly possible. “Let me be a fiancée for a while, okay? Now,” you lean back against the couch. “Tell me all about how you lost this beautiful ring of mine and how it happened to come into Sam’s possession… and then we’re gonna call him and thank him for keeping it safe when my fiancé couldn’t.”

Joaquin laughs, leaning against the couch beside you and reaching down to take your hand in his, his fingers spinning the new ring around on your finger. “You’re never gonna let me live it down, are you?”

“Oh, baby, even our great-great-grandchildren will know about this.”

[advancedtreelover]

Oh yesss. If aristocrats are useful for anything, THIS is it. Because Trump, as powerful and connected he is, is also - let's be frank - just an arriviste with big pretenses and absolutely no manners whatsoever. Like, he could blow his nose into his tie and I wouldn't be surprised. He could slurp his soup noisily, piss in the corner, put his legs on the table and I would just think "well, there he is".

So the best possible way possible to accentuate it, is to be immaculately well-bred-667800-years-of-heritage-cultured polite.

And the turtleneck, and king's suit, thing is a CLASSIC move. Let me tell you a story. There was a Polish painter (and first-class gentleman), Wojciech Kossak. His daughter reminisced one Christmas Eve during the war. Everyone in the family were, obviously, wearing very elegant attire. And then suddenly a cousin of the family arrived, I don't remember correctly - straight from the front, maybe, but definitely with no luggage and in plainest clothes. He was immediately invited to the Supper, and the master of the house disappeared for a moment, and when he returned, he wasn't in his best evening suit anymore, but in his oldest, worst clothes; because it would be Improper to be dressed too formally when your guest is not able, or has a good reason to not choose, to do that.

1) King Charles receives Zelensky in Sandringham.

It's a private residence.

There is no record of a foreign leader being received there for a private audience EVER.

2) President of the European Council, and former prime minister of Portugal António Costa, ALWAYS wears suit and tie in public.

Today, for the European leaders meeting in London, he wore a turtleneck.

[adrienneleclerc]

Hello! You could make a Fanfic where Toto Wolff's daughter begs her father to make a contract for her boyfriend (Carlos Sainz) in the Mercedes team so that he doesn't go to Williams 💗

Yes! And I’ll be using one of my favorite Hannah Montana quotes because Y/N will DEFINITELY be a Daddy’s Girl.

Pretty Please

Summary: Y/N Wolff is dating Carlos Sainz and is unhappy to hear that Carlos is thinking about signing with Williams.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, Williams hate

A/N: any hate towards Williams are things I have heard other people say. I’m also trying to get through ALL my requests so bear with me, please.

You were chilling with Carlos when he received a call. He kissed yourcheek and excused himself to take the call in another room. A few minutes have passed and Carlos walked back in with a smile.

“What’s got you all smiley?” You asked him.

“I got an offer from Williams to be their driver for the 2025 season.” Carlos said. You were in shock, however, remembering how James Vowels had a history of getting rid of their second drivers before the season finishes, thinking about Nicholas and Logan. You don’t want the same thing to happen to Carlos. But Carlos is a good driver, he knows what he’s doing.

“That’s great, babe, I’m so happy for you.” You hugged him after you said it.

In front of Carlos, you act very supportive of his decision, but in reality, you’re thinking about how you could convince your dad to sign Carlos. Carlos dropped you off at home, and when you opened the door, your mom was cooking food while your dad and brother were watching TV.

“Sweetheart, you’re just in time for dinner, have a seat. Toto, Jack, you guys too.” Your mom said. You put your things in your room, washed your hands, and sat down for dinner. “How was lunch with Carlos?”

“It was good, he’s recently got an offer to join Williams.” You said.

“That’s good, he’s a talented driver, he deserves to be in the new season.” Your dad commented.

“I like Carlos! He lets me play with his dogs.” Your brother jack said.

“Yeah, he’s talented all right, definitely too talented to drive for Williams.” You said, your dad doesn’t even have to look up from his plate to know you’re giving him puppy dog eyes, he can hear the begging tone in your voice.

“Ah no, nope, I already have a driver in mind for 2025, i can’t sign Carlos.” he said, getting up to get a beer, you followed him.

“How many ‘pretty’s do I have to put in front of the word ‘please’ for you to make Carlos a contract? Pretty, pretty…” You said training behind him. "Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty please, daddy, please!" You begged, stepping in front of the fridge before he had the chance to open it.

"Woah!" Your father exclaimed, putting his hands up as if he was surprised.

"Does that mean you'll sign him?" You asked hopefully

"No, it means you can stop. I already have Kimi Antonelli lined up to join Mercedes, you know this.” Your father said, moving you to open the fridge and get himself a beer.

"Dad, come on! It’s better for Kimi to have one more year in Formula 2, you know how everyone treated Logan, they all said he wasn’t ready to join F1. Kimi is just a kid, one more year until he can join and Carlos will join Audi in 2026.” You said.

“Charles Leclerc also did one year of F2.” Toto argued.

“But he didn’t join Ferrari right away, dad. He was in Sauber first before joining Ferrari. Wouldn’t it be better for kimi to go to Williams to get more F1 experience before joining Mercedes?” You asked your dad.

“I’ll think about it.” He said and you frowned.

“I’m not Jack’s age anymore, dad. I know ‘I’ll think about it’ means ‘ain’t gonna happen but nice try.’” You said, crossing your arms.

“I’ll think about it. But can we finish dinner first, please.” Toto said and you nodded.

It’s been a week since your conversation with your dad and you were losing hope until you saw Carlos and your dad talking. They shook hands, you decided to approach them,

“What’s going on here?” You asked, standing beside Carlos.

“You are looking at Mercedes’s new driver.” Carlos said, hugging you. You were in shock but hugged him back.

“Really? Omg, Im so happy for you!” You exclaimed, your father winked at you and you mouthed him a thank you.

“Took a lot of convincing though.” Toto joked.

“The contract is really good, I read it over three times, and signed today.” Carlos said.

“That’s great, how about we go out to celebrate? My treat.” You offered and Carlos nodded. You guys walked away and just when your father was out of earshot, Carlos whispered thank you in your ear. “For what?”

“I know you talked to your dad about me.” Carlos said,

“Are you mad?” You asked.

“Max that my girlfriend loves me so much she’ll convince her dad to write me up a contract? I know you were just looking out for me.” Carlos said.

“Well yeah, i Don’t really like how James treats his second drivers, I did not want you getting that treatment at all.” You pouted. Carlos kissed your pout away.

“I Love you so much.” Carlos said.

“I love you too.” You said.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

[roronoacherries]

zoro with a bookworm s/o ♡

you can always count on zoro to listen to you ramble about a book you’ve just finished. the second you’ve closed a book and (half) collected yourself, you search the ship for him.

he never needs to hear what you’re coming to tell him; he already knows, from the pleasant urgency of your step; the smile, not on your lips, but in your eyes; the bite of your lip as you try to contain the emotions threatening to spill out of you before you’ve managed to say a word.

you don’t slow down until you’ve stopped in front of him, your hands on either side of his face as you breathe out the words, “i finished.”

“did ya?” he says softly, in feigned surprised, a brow raised as a smirk settles on his lips in admiration of his bookish lover. “tell me about it.”

he doesn’t understand it at all, your love for books and fiction. he starts to yawn a sentence into any book he opens. he’ll admit to you (and only you) that he struggles to make sense of the characters on a paper, but even if reading came easier to him the world of stories was never one he felt a want to get lost in. not unless he could hear them from you.

he’d ask you questions. he’d hate the characters you hated, and when you talked about the ones you loved, nothing could keep his eyes from you. he’d hold in a playful laugh when you cried about a character’s death, without ever making you feel silly for it.

zoro would let you talk for as long as you wanted, not once getting bored (or at least, never showing it). he’d let you sit with him, resting on his arm, when you didn’t want to read in solace; listen to you read out loud to him when there was a part you loved so much you needed him to hear it too; stretching his arm around you when you held your breath, holding in a sob as you silently struggled through a tragic chapter.

if there’s a book in particular you love more dearly than any other, he’d make a genuine effort to read it himself (and does—because if zoro sets out to do something, especially for someone he loves, you can trust he’ll get it done). it’d be without your knowing, at first, struggling through the first chapters until he couldn’t quite put it down anymore, and only telling you he’d been reading it by asking you about the foolish thing he couldn’t believe a character had been stupid enough to do.

“you’re reading this?” you’d ask, unable to help the flutter you felt in your heart.

“answer the question, y/n.”

and if your ambition is to write a novel of your own, he’d be with you every step of the way. there to listen to your ideas. there to be blunt and honest when you needed it. there to ask the questions you didn’t think of. there to keep you quiet company while you wrote, and there to force you into bed when a creative madness had you fighting to keep your head upright and your eyes open.

he’d carry you to bed, tucking you in while you mumbled about needing to get this scene right, and even if he doesn’t quite get your love of stories, he’d be ever so grateful that you are an invaluable part of his.

[gtgbabie0]

{Bringing Mechanic!Vi some lunch to work}

This is so small. I yearn to be this woman’s wife, it’s not even funny anymore.

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Honestly, you didn’t think Violet was aware of just how stupidly attractive she was— she’d say you’re just biased, that you’re her girlfriend so “yeah duh of course you’d say that.” This, however, was on a whole different level. She wasn’t even doing anything crazy, but the way her muscles flex beneath a thin, sheen layer of sweat, toned arms propped up on either side of a car she’s currently fixing— hood popped up to reveal all the inner workings of the engine, tongue running along her teeth in focus. It made you go all hot under the collar

Mouth going dry as you let your eager eyes trail over her shoulder blades. The filthy, oil-stained tank top sticking to her solid frame— how the dark ink of her back tattoo moves with her every time she reaches to fiddle with something. It was dizzying, she was dizzying. You have to clear your throat, accidentally jostling her from her concentration.

Her head snaps over to your direction, soft blue eyes lighting up in surprise. “Oh— hey there pretty lady.” A wide, charming smirk stretches across her plump lips.

You stutter, mouth opening and closing in equal surprise at having just been caught ogling at your girlfriend in all her blue collar glory— you try to play it off with a small chuckle. “Hi!” You squeak, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “You- erm- you forgot your lunch… so I brought it to you.”

But she’s onto you, you were an open book.

“You been checking me out princess?” Her smirks widen with a burst of pride, pointed canine glinting. You shake your head ‘no’ but your nervous giggles give you away and just like that she's got you all figured out— “So how long have you been standing there exactly?”

“Not long— I— I just got here, Vander let me in.”

“Ah right, right, so if I go check the security cameras—” She steps closer, eyes fixed onto you. “—I’m not gonna see you standing here drooling for five minutes?”

You gawuff a scoff, heart jumping several beats. “No, you will not.” It’s a meek lie and it only makes your girlfriend chuckle in amusement. “Do you want your lunch or not?” You huff, desperate for a change of topic, she thought it was adorable.

“Mhm, yeah, m’starivin’ baby. Been on my feet all damn day.” She sighs, earning a sympathetic pout from you— watching as you rummage through your bag to pull out her lunch box. A plastic tub containing some cut up fruit and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a little sugary pick me up was just what she needed.

Violet takes her lunch, placing it down on the metal desk, which was a mess— scattered with all types of different tools and bolts and a few sticky notes.

“Oh you’re an angel, what’d I do without you hmm?” She’s practically beaming at you now, wiping her dirty hands with a rag before slinging the fabric over her shoulder— the sight makes your heart jump pathetically. “C’mere give me a kiss.”

A bashful gleam twinkles through your eyes as she lightly pinches your chin between her thumb and forefinger— leaning in to brush a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth, murmuring an affectionate “Thank you baby.” against your lips.

“Yeah, of course— anytime.” You reply in between loving pecks, face scrunching up slightly as she presses one last kiss to the tip of your nose.

“You gonna keep my company?” She asks, pulling you up a chair— the metal legs scraping against the garage floor. “I wanna hear bout your day, princess.” Vi leans up against her desk, unwrapping her sandwich with an appreciative smile as you take a seat and begin your ramblings— she’d hang on to your every word.

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[theyluvivi]

the birds pt 2 by the weeknd..toxictaken!matt.

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ: MEAN matt, toxic.. sorry :( unprotected p in v (don't do this), dacryphilia, degradation, use of good girl. that's abt it.

You and Matt don't argue anymore. It's not arguing if Matt refuses to talk to you to listen to you, but today, Matt actually decided to step in. He wasn't listening until you started going on about going through his phone and about girls.

That's the reason you're in this situation now. Sweatpants pooled around your ankles, panties pushed to the side as Matt slams into from behind. "You're—" You gasp as he pushes your face in the sheets. "Terrible—"

He laughs. "You knew that, baby.. Don' act like me texting other girls is surprising," It is because he told you that he'd change for you, and you believed him. "Or are you that stupid?" He coos, thrusting into you harder. You whine, tears forming in your eyes. Matt is always so mean, so rough with you. Usually you can take it but in this situation? Oh, you're done for.

"M-matt— mhf— m sorry—" You cry out, "P-please— slowdown—!" His voice gets darker, He hits that spot inside you relentlessly, making your legs shake. "Yeah, that's it, baby, cry f'me... be a good girl and let it allllll out." All of is too much for you, you can barely think. "This is what you wanted, right? Needed me to make you go dumb on my cock?" You're unable to answer, mouth only letting out fucked out noises.

"Answer me, Slut." He slaps your ass, making you whimper. "Mhm!" He leans down your ear, "knew it. My dumb girl just wanted my attention. You don't even care about the girls, do you? You needed something to bring up."

"Uh huh—" You moan helplessly, He groans, feelings your walls flutter around. "C'mon, cum on cock— can feel you— shit!" He thrusts deeply one last time before he feels you convulse around his cock. He slowly pulls out, making you whine. "Dont worry, Ma' gonna get you all cleaned up." He presses a kiss to your back.

At least you didn't have to kick him out this time.

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns @drewswife @strnilolover @cvnts4demi

a/n: please like he's my friend..

[blxxmingrose]

the pout never left sunny’s face as she waited for june’s reply, and hans felt like copying the look just to show june that he was seriously going to pull all the stops just to make him stay for another game night. but he knew sunny could pull off the look with her innocence, something he couldn’t muster up as he felt june’s hand on his back, a warm touch that sent him reeling. 

it reminded him of how close they were last night, of how they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and that kiss. that kiss that was both surprising and expected—like it was only a matter of time before their lips found each other. he opened his mouth to speak, but with sunny around, he couldn’t exactly convince him that there’d be more of that if he stayed, could he? 

instead, he gave him a knowing look, a secretive smile that held back what he wanted to say but gave so much away. “i think i’ve been persuasive enough,” he spoke with a quiet confidence as he poured oil onto a pan.

he looked busy with cooking, but half of his attention was on june, on how he shrugged his shoulders, how he glanced back at the living room as if he still had to make up his mind. “and i think you’ve already made up your mind,” hans added, grinning. “i mean, how could you not, when this food smells so good and sunny hasn’t even completely become the queen of uno yet?” 

there was something so magical about how things seemed to have fallen into their rightful place to lead them here, one fateful afternoon leading to another and the conversations just flowing naturally. when hans looked at his daughter, who was making a mess of the vegetable peels, he couldn’t help but wonder if some angel had guided her to bring their paths together, to bring june here in their home to make it feel warmer, brighter. to make hans feel like there was no weight on his shoulders, and that he could have fun too.

he didn’t need to just work and send sunny to school and let the days pass. he had a life too, and now, he had someone he wanted to spend it with. with a shrug of his own, he spoke in a teasing tone, “if all else fails, i could still resort to sending you loads of pictures of sunny and me playing without you and being all so brokenhearted about it until you can't take it anymore.” 

june let out a contented sigh as he leaned against the counter, watching hans work. the warmth of the kitchen, the rhythmic sound of chopping, and sunny’s playful grumbles about vegetables she refused to acknowledge made it easy to feel like this was just any other night. like this was something they had done a hundred times before, something they would do a hundred times more. and june— june let himself believe it.

he smirked at hans’ question, rolling his shoulders as if considering it. “convince me?” he echoed, pretending to mull it over. he glanced down at sunny, who was already perfecting a dramatic pout, her big eyes practically glistening with determination. he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “i don’t know. you’re both pretty persuasive, but i’m not that easy to sway.” a lie.

because the truth was, june already knew he’d be sitting in the living room again, dealing another hand of cards, pretending to take losses just to watch sunny’s victorious grin spread across her face. he knew that no matter how much he claimed he wasn’t the type for game nights, he’d still end up right here, laughing at hans’ half-hearted attempts to keep up, listening to the teasing banter that made the whole evening feel alive. but it was fun to make hans work for it.

he pushed off the counter, stepping closer until he could rest a hand lightly against hans’ back, fingers pressing just enough to let him feel it through his shirt. “what else have you got?” he challenged, voice dipping just slightly, just enough to make it obvious he was enjoying this. “because i’ve got to say, the food is a strong argument, but i’m going to need a little more.”

he stepped back before he let the thought settle too deep, before it became something he couldn’t shake off. his hands found his way into his pockets, shoulders rolling in a lazy shrug. ”i’m kidding. you two are entertaining enough. i guess i wouldn’t mind another round sometime.” he conceded, glancing back toward the living room as if he were truly debating it.

though he already knew he’d be back. he already knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Be a Good Girl For Me

dom!eddie x fem!reader

Eddie finally finds out exactly what you like in the bedroom

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) use of handcuffs, degradation kink, use of the word “slut”

The bed dips as Eddie sits on the other side of the bed. He knows exactly what you want but needs to hear the words come from your mouth and won’t give in until you ask. That’s how it always works.

He moves to lay beside you, pulling you closer to him as his hand begins to massage your stomach, pressing his lip to your forehead as he yaps away, something he always does anyway, but especially when he wants to give you something to focus on instead of your discomfort.

You snuggle even further into his side as his hand dips into the waistband of your pants. You want him to go lower, for his fingers to be inside you but you can’t get yourself to ask for that. Even though you’ve been together for a while, you still get nervous asking for what you want.

You whine when he pulls his hand away and he just chuckles, flipping you over so that you’re on your stomach. His lips find yours in a heated kiss as both his hands dip into your panties this time, getting dangerously close to your cunt before he pulls them back out only for you to whine again.

He sees that you’re going to do it yourself, but he can’t have that, so he’s grabbing the handcuffs he bought you from the drawer in your nightstand then pins your hands to the headboard before handcuffing them to the bottom rail so you’ll stay there.

“Uh uh uh,” he shakes his head. “Only I get to touch you. Understand?” He asks and you nod. He doesn’t get like this with you often, but you love seeing this side of him, when he’s more controlling and dominant.

“Yes,” you respond and he’s surprised when he sees your pupils getting larger. Eddie never thought his innocent girl would be into something like this.

“Use your words,” he commands as gets on top of you again, kissing you once more, his hands resting on your waist, waiting for the go ahead.

“Please,” you beg and now he’s torturing you, grinding against you to get you to finally ask.

“Please what?” He loves taking control, especially when you’re desperate and seeing you like this, so eager for him, it’s enough to almost make him come in his pants.

“Please fuck me,” you whine and those seem to be the magic words because your sweatpants and panties are off in an instant with Eddie spreading your legs wide to see what he’s working with. You’re wet beyond belief and he can’t help but smile to himself, knowing that he did that.

“Eddie, please.”

“If you insist, sweetheart,” he replies as he grabs hold of your waist and pounding into you inch by inch until he’s deep inside, making you moan loudly which is always music to his ears. “Such a needy little thing tonight, aren’t you? Was this morning not enough?”

“I-I just like the way you feel. The way you’re rough with me.”

“Oh that? Sweetheart, that was nothing. I’ll show you what rough really is if you want me to.”

“God, please. Whatever you want, I’m yours.”

“Always know how to please me, don’t you baby? Now just sit back and enjoy the ride. And remember, if I do something you don’t like, you have to tell me. You trust me right? That I wouldn’t purposefully hurt you?”

“I trust you,” you nod and close your eyes tight in preparation.”

He’s pounding into you now harder than he ever has before, his entire cock inside, not just the little bit he’s been giving to you since you’ve been sleeping together. He’s huge and it hurts but it just feels so good. He’s not being gentle like you’re going to break anymore and you suddenly feel so alive.

The bed is shaking underneath you because of how hard he’s fucking you, the handcuffs clanking against the railing of the headboard. You watch Eddie watch you, his eyes almost black because of how large his pupils are. His fingers make crescent shapes into your hips because of how hard he’s digging his nails into you. You don’t even care. In fact, you love it, hoping it leaves a mark, a physical reminder of tonight.

“That’s it. Just like that. Look at you, so willing to submit. I bet you’d do anything I asked, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything,” you repeat with emphasis so he knows that you mean it. He’s smiling now, still pounding into you as he leans down to kiss you briefly before pulling away so you can let out a moan.

“Hm,” he hums. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You’re already fucked out but he wants to see how long you can last, just how many orgasms he can get out of you.

He keeps going, eating up every delicious moan that falls from your lips, encouraging you every step of the way with his filthy words. He’s watching you come undone, acting more like yourself and he’s wondering if getting kinky was all you needed to be more comfortable, if he had been too gentle with you.

“Look at you, taking it like the little slut you are.” Your eyes widen at his words but that’s only because he’s never called you that. But you like it, love it even. Love being degraded in the way, and hearing it come from Eddie’s mouth is making you even more horny, more needy for him than ever before.

You buck your hips against his again and again and he helps you keep up with him, pulling your hips toward and away from him to really show you how he wants you to do it.

“Yeah? You like being called a slut?” He emphasizes the word and you hum in response, as if he called you something sweet, not a word that’s very common for having negative connotations. Tonight really is showing Eddie different sides of you.

“Yes,” you nod. “Say it again.”

He grabs you by the face with one of his hands and squeezes your cheeks as he leans down towards your face.

“Slut,” he spits, his lips ghosting yours and you close your eyes for a kiss only for him to lean back, picking up his pace once again.

And as you’re reaching your orgasm, he’s sure that he’s right. You’re screaming his name and he’s smiling so wide, smug, proud of himself for finally figuring out what you like. So he keeps going again and again until you’ve orgasm one more time, only stopping because you’re slurring your words.

“Did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers as he removes the handcuffs from your wrists, peppering them with kisses as he lies down on top of you, wanting to stay inside just a little longer like he always does.

“Maybe next time I can handcuff you?” You slur and he chuckles.

“Sure, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Whatever you want.”

[brainddeadd]

Protective Instincts

You’re standing in the lobby of the arena, waiting for Quinn to finish his post-game interviews. The energy of the building has started to settle, and the noise from the locker room has faded, but there's a buzz in the air. Most of the team has trickled out, leaving only a few stragglers, including a guy from the opposing team who seems to have lingered a little too long after the game.

You’re scrolling through your phone when you feel his presence before you see him. He’s standing way too close for comfort, leaning against a nearby pillar, his eyes scanning you in a way that sends an uncomfortable chill down your spine. He leans forward, trying to make conversation, but you feel his intentions before he even speaks.

“Hey, I saw you in the stands. Pretty cute, huh? What’s your name?”

You take a step back, instinctively feeling the tension building in your shoulders. You don’t know him, and you don’t want to. Your gut tells you to walk away, but before you can say anything, you hear a calm, familiar voice behind you.

“She’s with me.”

The words are firm, unwavering, but not angry. There’s a quiet strength in them, something that immediately makes the guy step back, his posture stiffening as he meets Quinn’s eyes. Quinn is standing just a few feet behind you now, his body relaxed, but there’s a protectiveness in the way he stands that is unmistakable.

The guy hesitates, his eyes darting between you and Quinn, realizing quickly that whatever his intentions were, he won’t get away with it tonight. He mutters something under his breath, avoiding Quinn’s gaze, and walks off without another word.

You breathe a little easier, but you don’t say anything right away, not sure if you should feel thankful or surprised. Quinn doesn’t move from his spot behind you, but his presence is comforting, like a silent barrier between you and whatever world outside you don’t want to deal with.

“Are you okay?” Quinn asks quietly, his voice low, but there’s concern in the way his eyes flick to you, scanning you for any signs of distress.

You nod, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Quinn doesn’t say anything more, but he steps closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he gestures toward the exit. The quiet reassurance in his actions makes you smile, even though you feel a little embarrassed by how rattled you were.

As you walk out together, the cool air of the night hitting your skin, Quinn falls into step beside you, his body language still subtly shielding you, as though making sure nothing else could possibly harm you. You know he’s not the type to make a big deal out of things, but the weight of his unspoken care wraps around you like a shield, keeping you safe in a world that sometimes feels too chaotic.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly, glancing at him.

Quinn simply shrugs, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “I know.”

But he doesn’t need to say more. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you—like nothing could get past him, and you don’t have to worry about it anymore. Quinn’s got your back, no matter what.

[eclipixels]

Babysitting

Jason x Reader

Content: You and Jason get tasked with babysitting

[1,917 words]

      You and Jason had been called in at the last minute to babysit Dick and Kori's daughter, Mar’i. Damian had more important things to do (probably brooding somewhere), and Wally, well, he wasn’t trusted to babysit anymore after a certain incident. That left you two—definitely not parents, but trusted enough to make sure their kid didn't accidentally set the house on fire.

      Jason had made a comment earlier about the whole thing being a bad idea. "I'm not built for this," he muttered, sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. "You know I’ve got a reputation to uphold."

      You had just rolled your eyes. "She’s not that bad, J. Besides, it’ll be fun. You’re good with kids."

      He shot you a skeptical look. "When did that happen?"

      "Let’s see… maybe when you stopped acting like a psychopath and started being halfway decent to people?"

      He grumbled something under his breath but let it go, giving in. That was Jason Todd for you, more complicated than a five-page essay on why not to mess with Gotham.

      Mar’i was busy in the living room, stacking blocks in her little fortress-building project. Her black hair, inherited from Dick, was tied up in pigtails, and her emerald green eyes sparkled with mischief as she concentrated on making sure no two blocks were out of place.

      You were on the floor next to her, organizing some blocks into colors when Jason casually asked, “What’s she building again?”

      “A fortress.” You glanced at the little girl, who nodded sagely.

      “A fortress?” Jason raised an eyebrow. "For what, exactly?"

      “Defending against bad guys!” Mar’i chimed in, her voice full of excitement. “Like you!” she added, pointing directly at Jason.

      Jason snorted and leaned back on the couch. “Me? A bad guy? Why am I always the bad guy?”

      "Because you're the only one who can be bad," Mar’i said with a grin, somehow more confident in her statements than she probably should’ve been at her age.

      “Alright, little one. You’re about to see just how bad I can get,” Jason said dramatically, getting to his feet.

      You shook your head but smiled, knowing Jason had a soft spot for his niece despite his tough exterior. “Uh-huh, you’re really selling it there, Romeo. Let’s just finish the fortress so we don’t lose this round.”

      Suddenly, there was a loud noise above you, a scratching, scuttling sound that definitely didn’t belong. But to your surprise, Mar’i was nowhere near the ground anymore.Y

      You blinked. “What the...?”

      Jason turned to look, his face full of confusion as Mar’i’s voice echoed from above.

      “Guys! I’ve got a better idea!” she shouted, her voice coming from the ceiling. Your eyes darted upward, and sure enough, there she was, clinging to the ceiling.

      Jason’s jaw dropped. “How—?”

      Before he could finish his sentence, Mar’i dropped down from the ceiling, landing on her feet with the precision of an acrobat. She grinned like a little troublemaker. “I made a tunnel! The bad guys won’t even know what hit them!”

      You blinked again, trying to comprehend what had just happened. “Did you just—did you just crawl on the ceiling?”

      Mar’i shrugged innocently, her tiny hands on her hips. “Yup. Mommy and Daddy taught me. It’s like an easy trick.”

      Jason rubbed his temples as though trying to process the entire situation. “Okay, first of all, why is that an easy trick? And second, why did your parents teach you to do this?”

      Mar’i looked at him, deadpan. “You want me to go back to my fortress and defend it?”

      Jason’s expression softened. Despite the fact that his brain was still trying to make sense of the fact that this little girl could defy gravity at such a young age, he smiled. “Alright, alright. You win. I’m the bad guy. You’re the hero. But know this…” He leaned forward, making a show of cracking his knuckles. “I’m not going easy on you.”

      “Bring it on!” Mar’i yelled back with a devilish grin.

      You just sat there, slack-jawed. “You’re seriously going to go along with this?”

      Jason shot you a look that said, You know what? Why not?

      You sighed and stood up. “Fine. But if you break anything, I’m calling the big bat before I call Grayson”

      Jason raised an eyebrow, already getting into character. “He’ll probably reimbursh for everything. You know he’s got a soft spot for Mar’i”

      Mar’i was already back in her fortress, peeking around the corner with only her eyes visible. “Come on, bad guy! Let’s see what you’ve got!”

      Jason nodded, cracking his neck as he casually strolled forward, pretending to ignore the fact that Mar’i was doing some acrobatic backflips around the room. “Alright, kid. Get ready. This fortress? It's going down.”

      Just as Jason reached for one of the block towers, Mar’i leapt from a shelf on the opposite side of the room, landing on his back and immediately trying to knock him over like a wrestler. “Gotcha!”

      Jason stumbled for a second, then grinned. “Not bad. But you forgot one thing.”

      “Oh yeah? What’s that?” Mar’i asked, tilting her head.

      “Never underestimate the bad guy,” Jason said, spinning around and scooping her up off his back. He tossed her in the air and caught her, grinning. “Your fortress might be safe, but you’re not getting away that easy.”

      “Wait a minute, you’re supposed to be the bad guy! You can’t just—” Mar’i laughed, but then she twisted around and pointed at you. “Help! The bad guy is taking me hostage!”

      Jason smirked. “Oh, you’ve already lost. It’s game over.”

      As the two of them continued their playful “battle,” you couldn’t help but laugh. Sure, it was chaos, and things might get a little out of hand, but you’d never expected babysitting to be this entertaining. Mar’i had her parents’ adventurous spirit, and Jason, well, he was having way more fun than he’d like to admit.

      And you? You were just here for the ride. Even if you did have to deal with the aftermath of broken furniture and very strange, upside-down ceiling crawls.

      But hey, that’s what you signed up for.

      Jason would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little sad when Grayson came back to pick up his daughter. It wasn’t the usual case where Jason would be happy for things to go back to normal. No, today was different. He’d spent the last few hours getting a crash course in chaos, laughter, and, for once, not being the one causing all the destruction.

      Mar’i had attached herself to his leg as soon as Dick had walked through the door, her little arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. “Daddy, don’t go yet! Can you come back another day to play? I want to build another fortress!”

      Dick chuckled, bending down to scoop her up. “You know I have work, sweetheart. Maybe next time, okay?”

      Mar’i pouted, clearly torn between her desire to keep her fortress intact and the fact that she had to say goodbye to her most favorite "bad guy" in the world. “But I like Uncle Jason! He’s fun!”

      Jason gave a half-hearted shrug, though a grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He had to admit, having the little girl look at him like that was a strange kind of feeling. “Don’t get too attached, kid. I’m a dangerous criminal.” He threw a glance at Dick. “Right?”

      Dick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re real dangerous, Todd.”

      “Okay, fine. Just—don’t forget me!” Mar’i finally relented, giving him one last hug before she was gently placed into her father’s arms.

      Jason chuckled as he watched them go, a weird, unfamiliar feeling settling in his chest. He wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was the way Mar’i’s laugh still echoed in the air, or the fact that he had actually enjoyed himself. Maybe it was the fact that for once, he had been the one to show someone else how to embrace the chaos.

      When the door clicked shut behind Dick and Mar’i, Jason let out a long sigh and fell back against the couch. He stared at the door, his lips pressing into a thoughtful line.

      You, still sitting on the couch beside him, couldn’t help but notice the change in his demeanor. His usual tough-guy act had faded for a moment, and there was a softness in his expression you rarely saw.

      "That was cute," you said, humming softly as you stretched out on Jason’s lap, trying to get comfortable after the whirlwind of the afternoon.

      Jason’s hand immediately slid to the back of your neck, absentmindedly stroking the skin there as he looked toward the door. His voice was low, almost contemplative. "Yeah. Made me think... maybe having one of our own wouldn’t be such a bad thing."

      You nearly choked. “What?”

      His hand froze, and he turned his gaze to you, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You heard me.”

      For a moment, you just stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said. The idea of Jason Todd, your Jason, the one who made sarcastic comments every other minute, saying something like that threw you completely off balance.

      Now that you thought about it, he would make a pretty damn good father.

      You tried to hide the laugh that bubbled up. The guy who still had a tendency to hold grudges over the smallest things, was talking about fatherhood like it was a casual weekend hobby.

      “As fond of the idea as I am, I’m not sure if the world is ready for a mini Jason Todd and Y/n L/n,” you said, finally breaking into a smile.

      Jason grinned, leaning in closer to you. “Maybe not. But you’ve got a point. We’d probably make one hell of a team. Think about it—our kid would be the perfect mix of stubbornness, sarcasm, amazing survival instincts and, of course, good looks.”

      Your heart skipped a beat, and you looked at him, half-amused, half-skeptical. “Jason, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself here.”

      He let out a laugh, his hand still lazily resting on your neck. “Hey, I’m just saying. We’d get to see Mar’i more for playdates”

      You let out a breath, feeling the warmth of his hand on you. “There are other ways to spend time with Mar’i than giving her a cousin.”

      “Fair” He put a hand on his chin before pulling you in closer on top of him for a kiss, “but I like my idea better.”

[lexirosewrites]

Day 3: Love Confession

for @stmarchmm

When Eddie had initially confessed to his interest in Steve, Steve had appeared like he may faint or puke.

Or both.

Despite the obvious chemistry between them during the Upside-Down and their defeating Vecna together, Steve still hesitated.

Admittedly, that made Eddie panic a little bit too.

He’d been so sure that Steve returned his amorous feelings, but now it doesn’t feel quite so obvious.

“If I misread this completely, I can leave. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Stevie,” Eddie chokes out, heart in his throat.

That seems to snap Steve out of it.

“No! No, you didn’t. You read it correctly, I just—”

And then he pauses. A very long pause.

One where Eddie could fit a lot of words if he wasn’t trying so hard to kick his own habit of filling awkward spaces by rambling endlessly.

“But?” he’d finally prompts Steve.

“I don’t know if I’m actually capable of doing that again.”

That’s where Steve loses him.

“Doing… what again?”

Steve avoids his eyes, arms wrapping around his middle like he needs some extra protection. From what exactly, Eddie is unsure.

“Loving someone.”

Eddie knows about Nancy.

Steve had gotten incredibly wasted one night and cried on his shoulder until he fell asleep, sobbing about how hurt he’d been by the painful rejection.

As Nancy’s friend, he’d wanted to take a neutral stance.

As an alpha falling in love with Steve, he’d been furious and wanted to tear the world apart with rage.

The sweetest omega alive had poured his heart out to his alpha girlfriend and she’d rejected him, broken his spirit with her carelessness.

She may not have meant to do it, but Nancy changed Steve fundamentally.

So, “I love you,” Eddie states plainly.

No frills, no goofy gestures, no silly voices.

Just the facts. What Steve needs to hear.

“Eddie, you really don’t have to do th—”

Steve looks like he’s going to cry. Eddie won’t allow that. Never again, if he can help it.

“I love you,” he says again, louder. “I love you and there isn’t a single thing you can say to change that, sweetheart.”

Steve stares at him then, mouth partially agape in what appears to be shock.

Eddie takes pride in the fact that he can still manage to surprise him at all. Steve’s so used to his antics that nothing seems to phase him anymore.

“You— you don’t really mean that,” he protests softly.

Except. Yes, Eddie truly does.

“I do though. I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything else in my entire life. I love you, Steve. I love you, even if you never love me. If you decide that there’s no room in your heart for an alpha like me, I will keep loving you. I’ve made up my mind already.”

The tiniest crack of a smile. Barely there.

Did he do it? Did Eddie finally do something right in this life— so right that the most perfect omega of his dreams might actually take a chance on him?

A chance on them.

A chance for what Eddie believes is definitely the best idea he’s ever had.

“So even if I tell you that I’ll spend every day with you terrified of how this relationship could ruin me again?”

The words are serious, but he can see the clear look of amusement in Steve’s eyes.

He’s trying to play cool and unaffected. A game of testing boundaries and Eddie’s determination.

The good news is that Eddie doesn’t have healthy boundaries anyway.

If Steve needs him to wake each morning and say, “I love you,” stop every hour and declare, “I love you,” and go to bed with an, “I love you,” on his lips, Eddie will make it happen.

He’s crazy, but he’s crazy in love too.

“I’m not afraid of loving you, Steve Harrington. Whatever you need from me, it’s yours. Patience, reassurance, blind loyalty and devotion— they’re all yours, baby. You couldn’t pay me to go away, even if you wanted to!”

Steve’s beautiful, beaming smile isn’t hiding any longer.

God, he loves Steve.

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (03) i, ghostly

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam

masterlist / prev / next

(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...

you can't tell what's louder, the thumping in your chest or the ringing in your ears.

your breath comes out shaky, the smoke curling out your nose and mouth, caressing your face.

it's hard to grasp reality. you don't know how you ended up here, nothing feels certain.

nothing feels real.

the sting on your now dried tear streaked cheek is the only feeling you feel, a reminder.

you never expected anything from that family, a family that isn't yours. but, perhaps, it was wishful thinking that if you made yourself forgettable enough, they would leave you alone. it didn't matter anymore, the fact that they were never there - you've done this before, you've been alone before. the heart could only grow brutal from feeding on fantasies.

and it's haunting.

did it hurt? fuck yes. but you're used to it.

you've been hurt your whole life.

you are nothing more than a body that hurts.

fantasies of loving arms, fantasies of warmth and peace.

fantasies of being seen. fantasies of being wanted.

you're staring down at the deep drop, somehow finding yourself back at the same abandoned building years ago. the sharp sting of the wind barely felt through the thick of the hoodie engulfing your form, the hood protecting your identity. the pack of the nearly empty cigarettes you had burned through along with your lighter layed scattered besides you, mixing with the discarded butts.

but you're never seen.

and you're never wanted.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

you didn't even flinch, no signs of making a move to acknowledge his presence, the burning cigarette still in hand as it nears your lips once more. a sigh and footsteps were heard before he was seated next to you, plucking the half-smoked cigarette out of your trembling hands and flicking it out the building.

"didn't take you for the rebellious type."

a sense of déjà vu, a voice, a similar scenario and the same setting - recognition washes over you - the voice of the vigilante that stopped you from jumping. and now, now you just can't seem to find the same sense of finality and courage to do it again.

"that's littering", you mutter, and he let out a surprised laugh despite your deadpan tone and the depressing atmosphere.

you're grateful that the hood makes you unidentifiable, thanks to the shadow it casts upon your face, further assisted by the blanket of the night: you don’t want to be seen right now, you just need to be heard.

he's thankful that, at the very least, you weren't making a move to jump off this time, the memory of it still unnerves him everytime he revisits it. although admittedly, smoking is just another way to achieve what you had come here to do before.

he looks at you, a moment of prolonged silence as his laughter dies out. you didn't even stir, defeated.

your voice was more mature, your stature taller but despite your unseen features, he can still sense how hollow you were - just like the first time he saw you.

despite everything, it was still you.

"… do you want to talk about it? ", he hesitates.

a beat passes. he desperately wants to help you, but also wishes not to overstep.

you asked your own question, one that had lingered at the back of your mind ever since that day:

"why did you stop me?"

he's surprised.

you're waiting.

your head tilted slightly, the moon light barely illuminated the edges of your face.

"because your life has value. i couldn't watch you, just, throw it away like it meant nothing.”

"it does mean nothing, i have nothing to live for", you reply, your tone grim and finalized.

his heart aches, the burden heavy in your voice - you sounded tired. broken.

his hand finds its way on your shoulder and pats awkwardly. "i'm sure that's not true. you may think that now, but you don't have to carry this weight alone."

"but i am alone."

“that’s not true, i’m sure there are people who care about you!”

he nudges your arm lightly, a light and reassuring smile on his face. you stare at him, at how the moon perfectly encapsulates his presence, at the tender warmth and genuine care radiating from him - the personification of life. the opposite of you, who's haunted by the idea of death.

you, who’d always remain in the shadows, remained in the desolated and dark corners of everyone’s mind, ignored, forgotten. dead to them.

“you don’t even know me,” you breathe out, “nobody knows me.”

the weight of your words weigh heavy on his soul. “that may be true, but that doesn’t mean i can’t care,” he offers. “you know, kid, you actually remind me of one of my siblings. around the same age, actually.”

your curiosity peaked as you silently urged for him to continue.

“but they came around eventually, i think. the hurt doesn’t go away, but you have to reach out for help.”

“…have you talked to your family about it?”

you scoff and stood up, making your way out of the building. he hurriedly follows you, frustration tainting his carefully crafted positivity. “you can’t just push people away like this. why won’t you let anyone in?”

you’re annoyed, it’s not like you did so deliberately, had anyone ever tried to get to know you? let alone care about you? you had abandoned that wishful thinking long ago, especially after today’s events.

“what’s the use,” you snarled. “nothing ever changes.”

“nothing can change if you don’t try!”

“sure, whatever.”

you paced hurriedly to where you left your bicycle, his presence hot on your trail.

“don’t dismiss me. your life matters, damn it.” he grabs your wrist.

you exhale sharply, yanking your arm out of his grasp. he falters back a bit, sensing that he crossed a line, trying to tone down how aggressive he was coming onto you.

“just- just remember that people care about you.”

“sure, like you do?”

“yes!”

you still for a bit, looking at him skeptically. you both awkwardly stood there, the situation almost comical in a sense, especially since his eyes can't remain trained on any visible feature of your face.

“hmm, thanks. i guess.” you trailed, hopping on your bicycle.

he watched you ride off into the night, unable to shake the feeling of helplessness. he wanted to help, but also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and scare you off. he stood there contemplating before he dashed off to continue the rest of his patrol.

“be safe, alright?” he watches you, unsure if he should follow you to assure your safety.

“i will.”

the distance between you both grows larger, moving in opposite directions, but your thoughts lingered on each other's words.

you retreat to the bathroom of the manor, the storm in your mind temporarily tamed. the cold water trickling down your arms, the soapy smell in the air to wash away the smoke clinging on your skin. the hoodie you wore hanging in the shower after you'd hand wash it, not wanting to expose yourself in case alfred gets a whiff of it.

despite continuing his patrol, he couldn't shake off the feeling of responsibility: for you - the mystery person tonight, and then, his mentioned sibling. he recalls how they were when they first entered the manor, and how they quietly adapted to the new lifestyle, growing up with the habit of concealing their emotions behind the facade of indifference, thinking that he didn’t notice. but he did, he was just never confronted with the drastic measure it would lead to if everyone in that manor just let that feeling of hopelessness fester within them. in a way, he's thankful to you: you gave him a wake-up call.

that sense of urgency nagging him to check on his family as he made a mental note to visit them after his patrol, your words lingering at the back of his head.

despite what had happened, you can't help but want his approval - the only person who actually gave you the time of day in this manor.

your expression focused, your eyebrows knitted, lips sucked in as you scrubbed your arms raw. you feel more grounded. your eyes dart to the reflection in the mirror, reminding yourself to keep it together.

keep it together.

keep it together.

keep it together.

subliminally. consciously. repeatedly

keep. it. together.

you release the death grip and push yourself off the sink, and sigh harshly.

keeping it together, you made way to the kitchen, planning to get some tea.

and then, you see him.

your breath lodged in your throat, you stand frozen watching him wait for rbe coffee while seemingly deep in thought, troubled. anxious.

richard grayson.

in the same vigilante suit, mask off.

you can't believe it. richard grayson, the oldest sibling, the vigilante, was the person who pulled you off the ledge, was the person who actually listened to you.

you can't describe this feeling in your chest, gripping your heart like a vice.

he was here all along.

you recall the mention of the sibling, was it you? did he actually… notice your struggles? maybe he had good intentions all along, trying not to overstep, hoping you'd come to him?

you don't know why you're trying to make excuses for him, but the mere fact that he saw you was enough.

you. hoodie off.

you finally let out a noise, snapping him out of his trance and his eyes snapped to you.

he looked a little caught off guard, surprised he didn't sense your presence.

“oh. hey.”

he rubs the back of his head. maybe he felt embarrassed that this was how you found out? but it's alright, because now he’ll finally notice you-

“i’m a little worried about him. i mean, since the cat's out of the bag, you should know he does a lot of work to contribute to us keeping the city safe - you wouldn't understand.”

“have you seen tim?”

“what?”

he sighs and grabs the finished coffee, settled on a tray with a dish holding an assortment of cookies.

he cuts himself off, deeming it not important enough to explain, and completely overlooks the horrified expression that now settles on your features.

dick had left the kitchen in search for tim, deciding to check out his room first. you absent-mindedly trailed behind him like a kicked dog, not saying a heap.

your vision starts to swim, your neck feels hot - unsure if it was embarrassment or rage.

embarrassed at the fact that you were deluded enough into thinking anyone in this house would ever give a shit about you, that anyone would care about what you're going through.

angry at the fact that you are never the person who gets asked for, never the sibling who's struggles are acknowledged.

you didn't register him knocking on tim's door.

you didn't register how dick affectionately asked a tired tim to spend some time together.

you didn't register them conversing while walking inside.

you didn't register tim giving you an odd look and closing the door to give them more privacy.

now, you sit in your room once more, alone, back against your bed, the torn shirt bundled in your hands. the grip on the fabric tightens, your knuckles whitens, and your shoulder starts shaking.

tears made its way down your face as you silently sobbed once more, occasionally chuckling at how pathetic your situation was.

you give up.

you can't keep it together anymore.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

so what if you had no family, no friends. your grades would never betray you, you'll continue your plan: study hard, get into a good university and then get the fuck away from here, from everyone.

despite your lethargy, you somehow made it through another school day. time started to bleed into each other, you resorted to going on auto-pilot.

so it didn't matter when onlookers would sneakily glance at you and the hand print on your cheek, resting under your red rimmed eyes and heavy eyebags that no one thought could get worse.

you had to keep moving. at the very least, you still had something that defined your worth - your intelligence.

no one will miss you.

no one would even notice.

they offer you a sympathetic smile, their face painted with worry. that alone almost sent you into another crying session. you find yourself in their embrace, soothing you while you try to hold it together, shielding you from the world.

“hey that's a bit much. what are we, chopped liver?”

the deafening ring of the bell signalling the end of school somehow fell deaf on your ears, but the sound of your friend somehow pierced through the barrier of your haze, jolting you back to reality. your eyes flickered to them, trying your hardest to offer a weak smile, but somehow failing.

yes, you're not entirely alone.

you still have your friends.

they would miss you.

they would notice.

so it didn't matter when the students gave you an odd look, putting some distance while you stood to the side engulfed in the arms of your friends. it didn't matter.

you had them.

you had someone.

you really needed the company, but despite being too ashamed to communicate it, they knew. so now, even if you arrived home later than usual, the sky turned dark and cold, you felt warm. that's the safety and comfort that no one else has been able to provide you, and you're so grateful that you at least had them - your precious friends, your reason to stay.

the path back to manor somehow the sky looked nicer, so did the grass, and the lush bushes of wildflowers - noticing the little things that you usually disregard, walking your bicycle while chatting away with your friends.

they never pried on why you were upset. they knew you, they knew. they knew because you knew. and that was enough, a wordless understanding, unconditional. they had insisted to keep you company, maybe spend some time together in your room.

so when you opened the door to the manor, still chattering and giggling with your friend, alfred had heard from the other room.

he felt somewhat relieved, the guilt over his actions had started to consume him, and so he had waited impatiently for your arrival that had been later than usual; but before he could fuss over you, the sound of your laughter had effectively calmed him down knowing you were safe and happy. he'd never heard you this happy before, and it hurts knowing that you had never been able to find joy while surrounded by the walls of this house.

he straightened his shirt, cleared his throat, and put on a kind smile while making his way out of the room to greet you in the doorway, your smile that could light up a stormy day, contrasting the gloomy room.

“oh, hey alfred! i know this wasn't informed but my friends were wondering if they could stay for dinner?” you turn to him, “we won't be much trouble, i promise!”

your friends shrunk back a bit, seemingly nervous of the tall and poised butler, feeling out of place.

you grabbed their hands and gave a reassuring squeeze, telling them it's alright.

you beam at him, waiting expectantly for alfred to welcome your friends.

while alfred could only stare in horror at the empty space next to you.

howdy skibbidis, i am not feeling very sigma :pained_heh:

lowk work has been ass and so has everything else but hey we move. i appreciate every single one of your comments and reblogs yall are so funny lol, but fr the support has been like saving my ass from burning out. grassy ass my skibbidi sigmas.

(TAGLIST) closed due to limit :sadge:

@confused-they @hoeinthehouse @strwberryglass @heartjwonie @glitchmshade @bat1212 @buddee @eyeless-kun @thereeallink @icantcryicantstopcrying @bunbunboysworld @gh0str00m @wizzerreblogs @lazy-kari202 @dotomuses @gwyneveire @gh6st24 @roseapov @kore-of-the-underworld @kingshitonly @plsfckmedxddy @unknownloner1345 @lilithquillete @v3vina @froggy-voidd @angrybuttooshorttofightyou @sami0169 @m3vlOvesu @pix-stuff @bunbunbread @agent-nobody-knows @cxcilla @horror-lover-69 @redkarmakai @mariadvorak @shirp-collector-of-fixations @batboygirlie @diejager @noclue-0 @sick2mystmch @novs9011 @kitkatkitmeow @crazycaoticsimp @majonla @hebaoffside @randomlyappearingartist @blueiones @shycreatorreview @simpingpandas @splaterparty0-0 @bk-4-trash-fire

[adara-of-the-flame]

the-name-is-hoggle

"Well! Took their time, didn’t they?! I knew Sir Hoggle would return with our musical sorceress unscathed!”

Sir Didymus would immediately brighten at the news that Hoggle and Mars were back. In just a few moments he was on his feet and plopping his hat back upon his head with a gentleman’s flair. He hurried to catch up with the others, fluffy tail wagging as he did so.

===========

It was obvious that living in Summer did things to dwarves.

Hoggle had to admit, at least it looked like this particular tribe was thriving. And definitely were the most tanned members of his species he’d ever seen. As well as colorfully dressed. Reminded him of tropical birds, naturally.

His observations are cut short when a familiar figure approached, being led along by a not so familiar one. Hoggle tried not to cringe, expression kept at neutral as the red head and their grandparent spoke their piece.

He couldn’t help his open surprise when he got an actual apology.

As well as the reason he was even getting it.

They thought he was in mourning….?

His eyebrows quirk from a bit of sardonic amusement at that one. Without meaning to, the Prince of Spring rubs a hand along his bare chin. Hoggle was hardly the first beardless dwarf to exist, but it wasn’t very common to see. Especially so when mixed with the weak excuse for hair that’d grown out of his head up until recent events had made it start being a bit more robust.

Still, it was rather pitiful by dwarf standards though. Back where he’d grown up, his (lack of nice) hair had marked Hoggle socially as someone from a “depleted mine”. Or having weak genes, basically. He’d been happy to leave that labeling behind….

There were many different ways a dwarf could express great sorrow and loss, shaving one’s beard completely off was definitely an option. But it was a much more traditional one, a modern dwarf was instead more likely to simply shorten the beard in a specific way or style the hair differently. Which explained why the Red Head had thought nothing of Hoggle’s appearance, while their Elder was aghast at the implications.

Aghast enough to want to ban the red headed dwarf from large social traditions. Such as Zaz djerg frarth tharas votr or “Last Dwarf On Their Feet”. A popular drinking game, one even Hoggle could get in on when opportunity arose.

“Oh….Uh….That’s not something you gotta do.”

Hoggle starts, shaking his head a little.

“I…appreciate the sentiment, Elder, but…JJeg uz ekk e mourning. -”

Fuck he really was rusty at speaking the old tongue,

“-Mot vlax gothr ekk hljiffn lag. Etta jr tlaga wizja jeg uz.”

Hoggle explains slowly, gesturing to his naturally bare face and his white locks; that couldn’t even be described as shoulder length. He made sure to explain in Khudzul so the older dwarf would understand.

“You and yours are free to think of me as you like for it, I can’t stop ya. And I won’t let it worry me, either. There’s nothing to forgive….I’ve been told much worse, heh…..”

He finishes gently, gesturing to the ear that was still held so firmly between ring and tattoo covered fingers. The Red Head didn’t need a punishment for what was basically a typical “razzing” of a social peer. Hoggle wasn’t exactly a fan, of course, but he knew there’d been no real malice behind it.

adara-of-the-flame

Mars watched the exchange between the Dwarfs in much the same way one might be engrossed in a good foreign movie with no subtitles. She got the feeling she was missing a lot.

...Silently, the half-Urru decided that if she was going to spend anymore time with Hoggle, she should ask him to teach her Khudzul.

Case in point:

"Jala? han's tlaga en Verol-Urndlikr! Han gothr ekk thorv--" And, that was as far as the young redhead got before their Elder swatted them across the ear.

"Tokir uncouth! Tho gotek slalig zagung guests." Evidently, this Elder seemed to have some sway among their peers, since many of the older Dwarfs appeared more solomn at their words.

"Han jr en guest avor Selva Roja." One mentioned.

Another, trying to show of his English added. "Retrobution must be made for guest of Selva Roja."

By now, knowledge of Hoggle's perchant for English over Khudzul had spread like a ripple effect, as well as his apparent connection to the Summer Queen.

"Yet, he speaks of bygones being bygones. We must respect his request." Still another insisted.

Something else Mars didn't know about Dwarves: They were a people of very strong opinions. Put enough of them together and they'll argut about anything, given enough time.

This may take awhile...

=======================

Mars felt something pawing at her let.

"Weh!" If Dumpling had a tail, it'd be wagging. "Weh! Weh-Weh-Weh!" If one were well-versed in the language of Primordial Chaos, one might hear a shower of compliments on the technical accurasy of the stillsuit the half-Urru had randomly summoned up.

Instead, Mars just heard a string of enthusiastic 'Weh's'. "Nice to see you, too, little guy." She spotted the Autumn native next, hanging a little ways off. "Hey, Yumika, what'd we miss?"

"Hardly anything." Was all the fox had to say.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the stench of this terrible blog…bleck!”

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ coming home to your pouty bf

unsorted | park jongseong x male!reader

pairing: jay x male reader genre: fluff ffdsfsdfgdsg notes: one note - pouty jay

“Jaaaayy~” you cooed, trying to figure out what the small fuss was about.

“Mmh…” your lover pouted as he sat on your comfortable leather couch. He looked a bit conflicted, but also really mad. But not really? You’d know if he was truly mad, but this felt very strange.

Walking to his side, you tried to hug him. Even though he was starting to gain some muscle, you could still hug him tight like a sloth. Leaning your head into the empty space between his shoulders and neck, Jay sighed, attempting to look away from you.

“Jaaaayy~” you continued to try your best, watching him pout even harder. His lips were pursed, clearly upset about something.

“Mmh…” he kept giving you those tiny hums. Maybe something had set him off? But it was really hard to tell…

Thinking of what might’ve upset him, you took one last look at him before sitting properly on the couch. Gently holding his hand as you made your way through his arms, you prepared your voice so he could hear you clearly.

“Are you mad I got home early?” you asked, thinking this might be one reason for his unusual tantrum.

Jay shot a glance at you, almost breaking his own neck with the speed. You nearly had to hide your giggle, but a snort came out instead.

“Mad?” Jay raised his brow, clearly concerned.

“Y-yeah?” you replied. “Like… do you—”

“I’m not mad!” he insisted, trying to speak clearly. Understanding the certainty in his answer, you nodded back.

“Uh-huh…” you agreed, albeit reluctantly.

“I just…” another pout appeared on his lips, this time directed toward you. At least, that’s how it looked.

“Just?”

“Ughhh…” he groaned, lying back against the couch as dramatically as he could. Clearly, he wanted to say something, but there was a hiccup, and he felt stuck.

Rubbing his leg for comfort, Jay looked at you with an apologetic gaze. You smiled, knowing you were there for him, no matter what he was feeling at that moment.

“I…” Jay sighed before sitting up again.

“You?”

“I wanted to…” he gulped, holding back one last time. “I wanted to pick you up, and you didn’t call me.”

“Pfft!” You almost burst out laughing at that. Jay looked at you, donning that pout once more.

“Hey!”

“BAHAHAH!!” You laughed, rolling off the couch and landing on your rugged carpet from the sudden dose of comedy. “Oh my god…”

“You could’ve told me?” Jay continued, crossing his arms like a frustrated mother.

And rightfully so, he felt devastated (to a point). Listen, you’d never really done surprises around him, okay? Actually, that was his thing. He gives you flowers, a comfy chair, a famous painting, and maybe a couple of tickets to a nice game of Japanese baseball. TLDR, that was a HIM thing.

Knowing the date when your flight home lands was important to him, too. He didn’t care what time of day it was or whether he was tired from practice sessions or midnight meetings—he was going to get you home safe and sound.

And now, in his mind, his plan was ruined. He wanted to cook a nice dinner for a cozy night in, perfect a new song he’d just worked on to share the demo with you, buy candlelight, and cover your whole apartment in rose petals just to welcome you back from your stressful overseas seminar trip this week.

But none of that mattered anymore because it all came crashing down when he saw you behind your apartment door.

You wore a golden smile he truly missed seeing in person, looking so refreshed from your trip almost 4 million miles away from him. You radiated a particular shine, and Jay felt overwhelmed by it.

He couldn’t properly welcome someone so surreal that he called his own boyfriend. His lover.

Suddenly, all those emotions were washed away into nothingness. Without the sorrow of what should’ve happened, and the guilt of being outnumbered in your own game, Jay fell back on the couch with you on top of him.

With great force, you grabbed his face and kissed him as much as you could. It felt like running out of air while sprinting uphill, taking in all the oxygen around you and breathing it in as fast as possible.

That was what broke Jay, and it always would. A lasting kiss turned into a playful battle for dominance, which then transformed into a sweet release of dopamine and the scent of love between the two of you.

Jay could only touch his lips in awe, still stunned that you kissed him that much.

With a cute giggle, you looked at him and lightly tapped his nose repeatedly, laying your weight on his broad chest.

“So, still mad?” you asked.

“I-I’m sorry.” Jay looked away, trying not to cringe at himself for being so childish.

But with one gentle gesture, you took a finger to his jaw and turned him slowly to face you.

“Never be sorry,” you smiled. “I love you, always.”

Kissing him again felt like too much, yet you did it without hesitation. You loved overwhelming Jay with your romance because deep down, you knew this man needed all of it. And you were the only one qualified to administer this special procedure.

You were his better half, for better and forever.

jay is clearly the cutest member of enhypen. now smother him in kisses HAAHAHDJAHDJFSAF

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv 💘

[hrrtshape]

did you see the post with shiftingonmars ranting you?? and most of her posts are never even about shifting?? she says she has been unmotivated to shift for so long and when someone tries to motivate her she goes off on them

some things:

i never called anyone out or sicced people on them. loa and shifting the same thing, and if that offends you, i don’t know, go argue with a wall. people could’ve dm'ed me, but instead, they made a whole broadway production about it. i hope the standing ovation was worth it. also, most of the things there were just lies. so. please reference stuff. besides shiftingwithmars has been hating on me for the last month, i'm not surprised dlorjeurhfehro

ok. and im sorry, but it's funny. like genuinely. wait no it's actually heartbreaking UHM. people call me entitledbla bla bla, but i’ve put in like.......hours of work. more, actually. a thousand asks, hundreds of posts, my own safety (cause i got doxxed hi ). and for what??

if my posts disturb your delicate sensibilities so much, there’s a wonderful, magical, life-changing feature called blocking. highly recommend.

idk what to say anymore even because something that i wanted to do for the sake of fun and sharing my journey has......literally turned into a waking nightmare. pls leave me alone lol !!!!!!!!

[larluce]

Another angst merthur AU that occured to me recently.

So remember the 50 First Dates movie? where a girl has short-term memory due to an accident and forgets the boy when she falls asleep, so he resolves to win her over again each new day.

Well, what if Merlin had this condition?

It would be during "The Secret Sharer" chapter when Merlin goes with Gwaine to look for Gaius after Arthur didn't listen to him about Agravaine. In this AU Merlin doesn't get there in time, Gaius dies and, in his rage and sorrow, his magic lashes out and destroys the cave they were in, killing Morgana and Agravaine in the process. Gwaine gets out there in time but Merlin ends up under the rubble, so Gwaine, after trying to dig Merlin out in vain, goes to the citadel to get help.

Arthur and the rest of the knights arrive there as fast as they can and dig for hours. Gwaine doesn't tell Arthur about Merlin's magic, he just says they found Agravaine conspiring with Morgana, that Agravaine killed Gaius and, suddenly, the cave collapsed. Arthur digs more desperatly, filled with guilt and not wanting to accept Merlin is dead. Time passes and they find Morgana's and Agravaine's corpses, but not Merlin's. The knights try to tell his king there's no way Merlin could've survived this, that he's gone, but Arthur won't listen and keeps searching.

Finally, when the sun is about to rise, they find Merlin unconcious, severely injured, but alive, just barely. They take Merlin back to the citadel, but, since they have physician no more, they turn to the druids for medical attention for Merlin. To the surprise of the king, they are more than willing to help his servant.

When Merlin wakes up, the last thing he remembers is his fight with Arthur about Gaius being the traitor and then nothing. Arthur doesn't want Merlin to relive the pain of lossing Gaius, but he must tell him, so he breaks the bad news to his friend. The image of Merlin going from denial to let out a heart-rending cry and finally shouting at him in anger for letting this happen, will forever hunt him. So when Merlin yells at him to leave, he obbeys. The least he could do is spare Merlin from the presence of the person that has failed him.

Some time later. At night. In Merlin's room.

Arthur: (enters, hesitant, walking on eggshells) Hey... Gwaine said you wanted to speak to me. Merlin: (sitting on his bed, not even looking at him, face neutral and dead inside) ... Arthur: (heartbroken at seing him like this) I'm so sorry. This is my fault and I will never forgive myself- Merlin: (deadpans) I'm a sorcerer. Arthur: ... Arthur: What? Merlin: I'm a sorcerer. I have magic. Arthur: Very funny. Merlin: (turns to him, serious) Do you see me laughing? Arthur: (getting nervous) Yo-you can't be a sorcerer. I would know. Merlin: Just as you knew Gaius was the traitor and Agravaine your so trusted ally. Arthur: (hurt, because that was a low blow) That's not fair. I know you are grieving but- Merlin: So you are not going to believe me again then. Arthur: If you are really a sorcerer. Why tell me this now? Merlin: (tears forming in his eyes) Because I don't care anymore. About what you'll think of me or what you'll do, or about the fucking destiny, or fate. It's all bullshit. Arthur: Merlin... Merlin: (wipes his tears quickly) It doesn't matter if you believe it or not. I just confessed I'm a sorcerer to the king of the kingdom the condems such practice. Do with that information what you must.

Arthur doesn't say anything else, just gets out of the room very conflicted. He talks about what Merlin told him to his knights and, when he sees Gwaine's reaction, he knows Merlin wasn't lying. Arthur feels betrayed, of course, that Merlin has lied to him all this time, but then Gwaine, ultimate Merlin defender, reproaches him "Can you blame him?". And Arthur knows it's true. The one time Merlin has trusted him with something, he has failed him.

And Arthur realises, that's how Merlin wanted him to feel, because that's how he made Merlin felt. He is paying him with the same coin.

Or maybe he is testing him. Seeing what Arthur will do.

Arthur just knows that he can't execute Merlin, he won't, especially after almost lossing him along with Gaius due to his own blindness. So he waits till next morning to tell Merlin that. That he is forgiven and will not be executed, that he's willing to gain his trust, work hard to amend for his mistakes.

The next morning comes, but when Arthur enters the room...

Merlin: (all scared) Arthur! Wha-what happened? Why am I all bandage? Did you find Gaius? Arthur: (confused) You know what happened. I told you yesterday. Merlin: What are you talking about? The last thing I remember is that... (gets a bit sad) Is that we fought... (shakes his head) It doesn't matter. I just want to know if you found Gaius. Arthur:(thinking, eyes wide in horror) Oh, no.

They call the druids again to check on Merlin and they give Arthur and his knights the sad news.

Druid: It seems his mind resets to the moment of your argument everytime he falls asleep. It could be a result of his head concussion, but we fear there's magic into it too. Arthur: What do you mean there's magic? Druid: There's a bit of magic encapsulating his brain. It could be some spell Morgana managed to cast on him before the fall or even something instinctual Emrys did to protect himself from the grieve. Arthur: (hopefully) So you can undo it. Right? Druid: (shakes his head, sadly) Brain magic is very difficult to cast and even more difficult to uncast. We could try, but that could also lead to a more severe brain damage too. It's too risky. I'm sorry.

Everyone is devasted. Most of all Arthur. He'll have go through watching Merlin suffer his father figure's death and recieve his resentment and hate for it EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Arthur knows he deserves this, but not Merlin. It's just too cruel to have his friend grieve Gaius in a loop and never recover for it.

So Arthur resolves to save Merlin the pain.

Arthur: There was an attack. That's why you are injured. Merlin: Attack? Arthur: Morgana. You were right, my uncle was the traitor, not Gaius. I should have believed you. Merlin: (with fear) Where... where is he? Arthur: (pauses) Morgana died in the attack, but Agravaine escaped taking Gaius hostage. Don't worry, I have several search parties looking for them. Merlin: (processes the news in silence for a moment and then tries to stand up) I have to go- Arthur: (stops him, putting a hand on his shoulder) No, Merlin. You need to recover. Merlin: But, I have to- Arthur: I'll take care of this. Without Morgana Agravaine is not that much of a danger and he wouldn't dare harming Gaius knowing that he's the only thing that can guarantee his safety. Merlin: (still looking doubtful) Arthur: I'll tell you what. If today we have no news still, you can come with me in the next search party first thing in the morning. Merlin: (hopeful smile) Really? Arthur: (painfully smiles back) Yeah. Merlin: (smiles more brightly) Thank you, Arthur. Arthur: (tears roll down his eyes, not being able to contain them) No, Merlin. You shouldn't thank me. I... (thinking) I'm the reason you are like this, I'm the reason Gaius is dead. (says) This wouldn't have happened if I had listened to you. You are... hurt and it's my fault. Merlin: (holds his hand) And you realised your mistake and apologised. You are looking for Gaius now and that's more than enough for me. Arthur: (his heart breaking more)... Merlin: (frowns his brow in concern) Now tell me about Morgana. I know it mustn't have been easy for you.

And that's the Merlin he has missed. The one that still cares for him, the one that still view him as a friend.

So Arthur keeps doing this everyday. Sometimes he makes up a new story to justify Gaius' absent. The knights play along, not wanting Merlin to suffer. It's painful, but also bittersweet. At least like this, Merlin can be happy in his ignorance. They can lift the burdens of his shoulders even if it means playing a theater play every single day.

That's all I got now. What do you think?