#listen i was taught to treat people how i wanted to be treated

[caffeinatedopossum]

Me: *tries really hard to be nice to people*

People: *are nice back*

Me:

[secriden]

*cracks knuckles* Okay lets talk about the elephant in the room: Style going to the support group for those who've suffered loss and telling what appears to be a fake story about losing his pet dog.

I'm going to point out a few things that I think provide a framework for Style's actions here. Not because I think it excuses what he did, but because I think a nuanced read is what the character deserves.

Point 1: An irresistible opportunity

The subs put the "Support Group for Loss" on the image in the notebook, but I'm not sure there's anything to suggest that Style would've known that was what this image represents until he showed up and saw the sign on top of the door.

In episode 2, Bison says, "He plans everything down from years, months, weeks to days" and then tells Kant:

So Style is literally just going to addresses/locations at given days and times, potentially not knowing what to expect. And as much as Fadel is certainly attending this meeting as a response to having that heartbreaking flashback (😭), this is also something he attends regularly and has planned to attend way in advance. So Style has no reason to think Fadel is attending this meeting because of a recent resurfacing of his pain.

What we, the audience, and what the characters know are very different things.

Now, should Style have turned his cute ass right around once he realised what this meeting was? Of course he should. But that wouldn't have been true to Style's character. We've been told by his best friend that he is "crazy" and been shown repeatedly that he lives right up to that description.

Style is impulsive. He's all base instinct and he acts on his desires without thought or contemplation. And by this point he is desperate for a deeper connection with Fadel. He's fascinated, captivated by the mystery that is Fadel and this is an excellent opportunity to finally see behind the wall Fadel so carefully maintains.

When Style sees the sign above the door, Style looks at the notebook (which, again, shows nothing but people sitting in a circle with the words RISE UP) like he's just realising what it means. He then gets this amused, almost rueful look on his face (like he's thinking "am I really going to do this?") before it shifts to determination and he walks through the door.

(My soul for the ability to once again gif something because FUCK Dunk is doing SO MUCH in this show!!)

To Style, this is just too good of an opportunity to give up.

Because let's be real, Fadel is so clearly lying and hiding something:

Fadel is shady as FUCK. He is simultaneously actually a really good cook (Style finally tries his burger so he knows, now), and also has the skills to work at a strip host club, and also can take on 3 guys in a fight, and also can break a man's arm with his thighs. Can you honestly blame Style for losing his mind just a little bit about wanting to get his hands on something, anything, to figure this man out?

Style is being absolutely consistent in his persistence to understand Fadel. This isn't about the car or about finally 'winning' the fight (thank you @airenyah for giving such a detailed framework to understand what Style's been doing until this point) anymore. This is about Style wanting to know Fadel himself.

Point 2: The potential implications of the setting

Now, what might give us a bit of insight as to why Style is this way? I have a theory (albeit one that could prove to be very wrong, but hear me out). I think this whole entire show is set in what could potentially be quite a small town/suburb.

There's a few things that make this theory plausible:

(1) Fadel and Bison are in hiding after Bison blew their previous cover. They're probably on the run from some section of the authorities and so it makes sense to settle in a quiet/out of the way place.

(2) Style seems to be really familiar with the people in the area. Like he grew up there and its the kind of small town where everyone knows everyone and everyone is in everyone else's business.

(3) Style is clearly the darling of the market aunties and uncles.

Style just lost her a sale and potentially a loyal customer, and she's still rooting for him? In episode 2, when Style asks the uncle to let him borrow his cart, it takes nothing but his word for the uncle to give Style his entire cart of produce for his ridiculous scheme.

Style is so clearly someone they all know well and have great affection for, and a very plausible explanation for this is that they all watched him grow up and the entire market (town/village) is fond of him.

And honestly?? Yeah, we see the way Style is actually quite sweet in that careless, guileless, thoughtless way. He goes the extra mile to fix his mistake with Fadel by replacing his car parts for free in episode 1. He helps out by taking orders in episode 2 without being asked and takes it seriously. In episode 3, he tries to drive more business to Fadel's store (bless him, he so clearly does NOT understand how restaurants work, but he MEANS well!!), and can we all acknowledge that it works?? He understands how to appeal to potential customers in the area because he knows the people there. It's not (entirely) his fault that Fadel wasn't remotely prepared for an actual rush crowd and Bison was off getting kinky with Kant and not doing his (fake) job. He is so clear about not judging Fadel's host job and tries his hardest to help him (to absolutely NO effect, but still) when the 3 guys gang up on Fadel.

Style is so loved and more importantly so very loveable.

Point 3: What this could mean for Style's character

So, potentially, Style is someone who grew up in a small town, who has been well loved, potentially spoiled and coddled, but also very much kept within the confines of the narrow viewpoint that a quiet, country town places on you.

It's in the way his dad scolds him as if he was still a child when he's at least in his mid to late 20s. It's in the way Style was so mad at Fadel for scolding him ("thanks for the lecture, dad"), like that hit a sore point for Style. It's in the way no one in the market takes him seriously; they're fond, but he's still a kid in their eyes. It's in the way he has an abundance of free time like he doesn't REALLY need to work at his dad's shop. It's in the way he sees Fadel beat 3 guys up with ease, starts wondering if Fadel is an assassin or a hitman, and is completely unfazed like he doesn't quite have a handle on reality.

It's in the way his best friend is a man who has no qualms about lying to him and putting his life in danger, and how Style seems to have no other friends or people (aside from his dad) in his life.

@wuxian-vs-wangji made a comment to me about Style being desperate for a meaningful connection, and I think she hit the nail on the head. Because along comes Fadel, a mysterious stranger with a suspiciously versatile set of skills who is also very hot and keeps giving Style these wonderfully complex reactions? Who sometimes wants nothing to do with Style, but at other times seems to be at war within himself about desperately wanting him? Who treats Style with anything but apathy?

This is catnip to Style; he never had any hope of resisting this.

Breaking news: Style is a complex and imperfect character...

Here's the thing, though: he was never going to try. The show has been incredibly upfront about who Style is as a person. Regardless of whether I'm correct about why he is this way (ie. that he is very much the product of the environment that didn't know how to handle a kid with Style's personality), episode 3 shouldn't have surprised anyone about Style. He's been incredibly consistent and true to himself.

He wants Fadel and he's "crazy" enough to go all in, no holds barred about it, and the Support Group was the biggest doorway to finally discovering something REAL about Fadel.

And its not just about sex or to prove his superiority anymore. Because if it was just that, then Style would have reacted very differently to their first time.

In this scene, Style is pleased and evidently enjoying himself, but he isn't exuberant. He isn't overcome with joy. If anything, he was more happy and excited when Fadel let him help out in the diner (I mentioned this in the tags in this post too) than he was when Fadel is literally fucking him. He lets Fadel set the pace; barely moves to touch Fadel except to hold him close. Almost like he doesn't want to accidentally mess this up, like he's worried he'll take too much, so he'll take what Fadel gives him and no more (please appreciate @braceletofteeth's amazing tags on this post). For a character that has been so aggressively on the offensive, this is shocking until you realise that sleeping with Fadel - while it's a step in the right direction - isn't Style's end goal anymore.

And he makes that abundantly clear in this episode:

Does Style even fully realise the weight of this desire? I doubt it. But I do believe that Style is in earnest. He doesn't fully understand his own feelings, but he also doesn't really care to either. All he knows is that he wants Fadel, wants his attention and his passion and his focus and his heart.

...but Style is also kind of, sort of, perfect.

Because he's exactly, precisely, breathtakingly exactly what Fadel needs.

Because Fadel is hurt and broken and bleeding inside. Because Fadel is barely holding it all together for Bison's sake, but has already given up hope for any true happiness for himself. Because Fadel can't trust anyone or anything in his life, when he's been used and used and used by the family who should've loved and cared and protected him.

Because it's going to take nothing short of this kind of unwavering, unshakable, uncomplicated determination to give Fadel even a chance of healing and opening his heart to love again.

[perenians]

oh merrill...

[couldbebetterforsure]

Chance’s loser dad: If the woman you love is arguing with you, just kiss her! That’ll shut her up!

Certified Angel™️ Suzu Orimaki and the cool men of the Orimaki family: If the woman you love is arguing with you, just listen to what she has to say and communicate with her!

[theood]

falling down an aba therapy rabbit hole god so many people just treat autistic people with fluctuating abilities as subhuman there is always a better workaround for kid AND parent but really its not about the parent here its abt the kid

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[theroundbartable]

Uther hates playing chess.

It's not that he hates the game, he just has terrible opponents. His son, Arthur, is a worthy match, but his prince duties are increasing lately and Uther is tired of Arthur's complaints that Uther 'only wins because he's the King'.

The problem is that it's true. No one wants to win against a King except another King. But how often does Uther get to challenge one except for endless bouts through letters?

Until -

Arthur: he's a terrible servant! He doesn't listen to me and treats me like a commoner!

Uther: *perking up* that servant?

Arthur: *realizing whom he's talking to* ... Yes, but- he's not that bad! An idiot, one who doesn't care about propriety but he's a good one. And it's sort of refreshing to not be-

Uther: You misunderstand. It's fine. Do you think he knows how to play chess?

Arthur: ... I don't know? I mean, he can read and write, which is surprising, and he speaks more languages than you'd expect, so maybe?

Uther: wonderful. I'd like to try it our

Arthur: *irritated* yes, Sire.

...

Uther: go on then. You do know how to play?

Merlin: *nervous* A little. My mother taught me

Uther: wonderful. And do not be afraid to put in a fight, I'm so bored of easy wins.

Merlin: am I not being executed if I win?

Uther: *shocked at Merlin's bluntness* excuse me?

Merlin: ... Am I being executed for asking?

Uther: ... I think this is gonna be fun. You take the white pieces.

Merlin: alright, Sire.

...

Uther: *shellshocked*

Merlin: may I leave, Sire?

Uther: how on earth did you-

Merlin: I was allowed to win, right?

Uther: of course. But how-

Merlin: it's in the strategy. You like to sacrifice your pawns to make space for your knights and bishops. And you barely move your Queen.

Uther: I'm protecting the King! The most important piece on the field!!!

Merlin: A good King wouldn't sacrifice his people for no reason. There is no shame in trying to save them all.

Uther: that's what Arthur would do and how he would keep losing. You didn't do that at all! You basically sacrificed every single piece on the field in a suicide mission!

Merlin: *blinking dumbly* I'm protecting my King. The most important piece on the field.

Basically...

[deadghosy]

How would Slytherin Boys (your pick) react to gn! reader saying "all men are shit except for you" You can pick if it's platonic or romantic.

My sister screamed this at me as a way of apologizing after an argument. And I just found it so funny that I wonder how fictional men would react to it.

Sorry if this is offensive in any way.

“ALL MEN ARE SHIT….except for you.”

HOW THE SLYTHERIN BOYS REACT TO YOU SAYING THIS

Ft. The riddles, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire

Tom Riddle

He just nods. At least he’s kinda glad to know you don’t think he’s the worst of the man kind.

He knows his own gender specie is weird and unthinkable.

“LIKE I CANT BELIEVE HE DID THAT TO ME…UGH!”

“I choose the bear as well.” Tom says while just reading his daily books. Not taking his eye off of the book he is certainly hooked on. You nodded with a huff.

Mattheo Riddle

Just standing there like “🧍🏾Uhmm..I agree?”

He has no idea what happened but at least he likes how you don’t think he’s shit.

“I agree? So who do I need to beat up?”

Draco Malfoy

At first when those words came out of your mouth he was gonna say how he isn’t only form you to beat him at it.

He felt appreciated. So he nodded and asked for what happened to make you say this.

And now he is a drama hungry bitch cause now he is gonna spread false rumors about the bastard who dared to anger

Blaise Zabini

He just nods with a smile

“Glad to know I’m not shit.”

“Of course you’re not.”

Theodore Nott

Nods while listening to you. His mother taught him to treat people with respect. So of course he will listen and want to know who made you this angry.

As soon you give off description and what house he belongs in. It’s game over for that guy

Don’t worry about the shitty man you were talking about. He’s been taken care of darling.

Lorenzo Berkshire

He’s a “girl’s girl” is what you called him when he had agreed the whole way when you said it.

He just sat there and nodded his head as you told him how men are shit.

He felt glad you think he isn’t shitty at least.

Now he can stop overthinking about how he thinks he bugs you too much.

[theeternalwombtarot]

As a woman you should never ever ever ever EVER be teaching a man how to be a man or how to be in his highest form of masculine energy or power. Nor should you be asking him to do it either. Don’t reveal any lists, any requirements, any ideas about what it is that you need and want, when a man comes to you if he’s fit to do it he’ll be doing it from the start and from scratch. I’m not talking about materialistic things, or tangibles. I’m talking about the essentials, the foundation of connection, the fundamentals. Let him do it. Let him show you who he is. And if, you discover that he didn’t do what he was meant to do or supposed to do you respond accordingly with the boundaries you’ve built up and taught yourself to have because boundaries are about how you want to be treated. You don’t teach your boundaries you impose them. And to be crystal clear before ya’ll begin pulling ideas and conclusions out of thin air. I understand that people can’t read your mind about the things that you want and that’s exactly my point. People who are in alignment with you and what you need will be in alignment with what you need without you having to clarify what that is. It’s not your place to press and mold people into the shape you want them to be. It’s okay for him to ask you what you like, what your favorite things are to be learning what you are as a person but it’s his job to be honestly and genuinely learning, to be listening, to be attentive, to be considerate, to bring all things into fruition, to create an abundant space for you.

[natsaffection]

Mafias Mistress pt. 6 | N.R.

MafiaBoss!Natasha x CivilianYounger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22) Fingering, begging, strap on use (r receiving), rough sex, dirty talk,

Word Count: 6,8K

A/N: It’s overrr. Thank you for all the support on this story! I really liked it to write and see talk reactions on it🫱🏼‍🫲🏻 As with all my other series, requests are of course welcome for this story! 🫶🏼

The room was silent except for the gentle sounds of Natasha's movements as she carefully tended to you. The air was filled with a mixture of lingering tension and the soft light of early dusk filtering through the curtains. You lay on the bed, your body aching from the intense punishment you had received, but the warmth and care in Natasha's touch brought a sense of comfort you hadn't expected.

Natasha gently cleaned your marks, applying soothing ointments and massaging where necessary. Her movements were delicate, almost reverent, as if she was trying to ease the pain she had caused.

Your eyes fluttered open, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you doing all this..."

Natasha paused for a moment, her eyes filling with a mixture of regret and determination. She took a deep breath, her voice soft and firm as she considered Maria's words.

"Talk to her. Help her understand."

"I... was born into a world of chaos..." she began, "My parents were involved in organized crime, and it was only a matter of time before I got sucked in, and before that happened, I ran away... I lived on the streets for 2 years, struggling to get by. Until a powerful organization took me in and from then on I regretted my first decision. They saw potential in me, potential to be more than just a foot soldier."

She sighed, her expression pained. "They trained me to be an assassin, ruthless and efficient. They taught me how to kill, how to manipulate, and how to use every tool at my disposal, including my own body. Part of that training was.. using control and dominance to get what I wanted. It became a part of who I was, a way of surviving in a world where weakness meant death.”

You listened, your mind forming a picture of the girl Natasha had been, forced into a life of violence and manipulation.

"But I didn't want to be just another puppet for anyone, because then I might as well have stayed with my father," Natasha continued, her voice growing firmer. "I wanted more. I wanted control over my own destiny. But leaving wasn't easy. I made a plan. I began gathering information, building connections, and identifying those within the organization who were dissatisfied. It took years, but eventually I had enough support to make my move. I staged a coup. It was bloody and brutal. I had to be ruthless. There were no second chances. Those who supported me joined me, and those who didn't... didn't survive."

She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "That night changed everything. I became the head of my own group, but it came at a cost. I lost friends, allies, people I cared about. But it was the only way to take control and build something new.”

Natasha's expression softened as she turned her gaze back to you. “I didn't want to run an organization like the others. I wanted to be different, better. I set up rules and codes of conduct. We still operated outside the law, but we had a sense of honor. We protected the weak, fought against those who exploited the weak. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than what I knew.”

She turned her gaze back to you. “And then I met you. You were different from anyone I'd ever known. You were kind, innocent, and full of life. You saw something in me that I didn't see myself. You didn't know who I was, and you treated me like a normal person. For the first time in my life, I felt something other than anger or fear. I felt...love.”

She continued, her hands now calm as she looked deep into your eyes. "I tried to keep you away from this life, to protect you from the darkness that surrounds me."

You felt tears well up in your eyes, touched by Natasha's words. "I didn't know that."

"how were you supposed to know?" Natasha looked into your eyes to see a reaction, "But you still had secrets from me," you said, your voice shaking.

Natasha nodded, her expression pained. "I know. I remember seeing you in the hangar for work. You were there, so focused and determined, and I couldn't take my eyes off you. I invited you to my house under the pretense of work, but in truth, I just wanted to be near you. I didn't just want you physically, I wanted you in every way. You were the only one I thought about, even when I was with someone else. I know that's hard to hear, but you have to understand that you changed everything for me."

She continued, her voice softening as she remembered those days. "Every time I saw you, my heart raced. You were a light in my dark world. I knew I was falling in love with you, and that scared me so much. I tried to keep my distance, but I couldn't stay away. When I finally confessed my feelings, I was terrified. I had never been so vulnerable in my life."

Natasha's face darkened with anger and fear. "And when I saw Viktor in your apartment, my heart stopped. He was sent by the former mafia to hurt you, to get to me. The moment I saw him, I knew I had to act. I couldn't let him hurt you. I would do anything to protect you, even if it meant becoming the monster I so desperately wanted to leave behind."

She took your hand and squeezed it tightly. "I know it was awful, and I'm so sorry you had to see that. But I would do it again if it meant protecting you. I love you more than anything and I can't lose you."

You felt a mix of emotions - anger, fear, sadness and love - swirling inside you. "I understand..." you said quietly, your voice full of emotion. "I understand why you did what you did. But that doesn't make it easy though."

Natasha nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry for everything, Y/N. The secrets, the punishments, the fear, the isolation, everything I've caused you. I promise I'll be honest with you from now on. No more secrets, please... I...I don't want to lose you..."

You reached out and took Natasha's hand in yours. "Okay." Natasha looked at you in surprise, a genuine smile full of hope and love. "O-Okay?"

"Yes." You looked at her with a gentle and serious look, "I'll try. But no more lies! No secrets, I want you to talk to me about everything that happens here. Both you and everyone else here."

Natasha's eyes filled with tears that she tried to suppress, she nodded frantically, "Yes...Yes, I promise you." You looked at her and saw how serious Natasha was. You nodded and Natasha got up to leave, to give you some rest. But as she wanted to turn away, she felt your hand holding hers.

Natasha understood immediately and lay down next to you. She gently pulled you into her arms and stroked your back soothingly. "Sleep now. Tomorrow will be a new day, okay?" she whispered, calming you in small, circular movements.

You sighed softly and gave in to the pleasant exhaustion that Natasha's presence brought you. Just before you fell asleep, you heard Natasha whisper softly, "You are the most important thing in my life."

But you were too tired to fully understand the words. You fell asleep in Natasha's arms, and Natasha stayed awake, her heart filled with a mixture of love and guilt, determined to do anything to regain your trust and protect you forever.

The sun shone through the large windows of the property in Spain, filling the rooms with warm light. You woke up in Natasha's arms, your bodies still close together. The closeness, the warmth and the calm of the morning made the events of the previous night seem almost like a dream.

Natasha was already awake and watching you with a gentle smile. "Good morning," she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. You blinked sleepily and returned the smile. "morning."

After breakfast, while you were sitting together in the garden, Natasha took your hand and looked at you with a mischievous smile. "I have a surprise for you."

You raised an eyebrow and smiled curiously. "I'm afraid of your surprises..."

"I want to invite you to a ball tonight," Natasha said. "It's an important social event and I want you to be by my side." You were surprised, but also excited. "A ball? I've never been to a ball before. I don't even have anything suitable to wear."

Natasha just grinned. "Don't worry. That's already taken care of."

A little later, you were in your room and were amazed when a group of stylists arrived with a variety of beautiful dresses. The stylists, who had a wonderful sense of humor and fashion, immediately brought life into the room.

"Oh my God, darling, look at this beauty!" exclaimed one of the stylists, a tall man with perfectly styled hair, when he saw you. "She's like a canvas waiting to be painted," agreed another, a shorter man with lively eyes and a wide smile.

The stylists immediately began to attend to you. Your hair was artfully pinned up, strands carefully curled and arranged in an elegant hairstyle.

"Turn around, love," one of the stylists said, gently turning you to look at your hair from all angles. "We want to make sure you look perfect from all angles."

As they worked, they chatted happily, making you laugh over and over again. "Did you hear what happened on the red carpet last week?" asked the short stylist, telling a funny story that made everyone in the room laugh.

After the hair was done, one of the stylists brought in a selection of dresses. "We have a selection here that would make any princess jealous."

You tried on several dresses while the stylists helped you and gave you tips. Natasha watched carefully the whole time and occasionally gave her opinion. "This dress makes her eyes sparkle," Natasha said, looking at you in an emerald green dress.

"Ms. Romanoff is absolutely right," the tall stylist agreed. "But I think the blue dress would look wonderful on her too." After several fittings, you found the perfect dress - a stunning floor-length dress in a deep shade of red that perfectly accentuated your figure and made your skin glow.

"Oh my God, you look like a goddess," the short stylist said, stepping back to admire you. "Ms. Romanoff, what do you think?" Natasha had to hold back from letting her mouth drop open in admiration. "She looks incredible," Natasha said, her eyes sparkling with pride and desire.

The stylists set about perfecting your makeup. They chose subtle but effective colors that emphasized your natural beauty. "A touch of blush here and some shine there," the tall stylist murmured as he carefully applied brush strokes. "Perfect."

Meanwhile, two other stylists came over and began choosing your accessories. They chose delicate earrings and a matching bracelet that complemented the dress perfectly.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Maria entered. She stopped and her eyes widened in surprise and admiration. "Wow, she's beautiful.." Natasha had to smile.

The evening arrived, and you and Natasha drove to the ball in an elegant car. The magnificent estate where the ball was held was decorated with lights and flowers, and the guests wore the finest dresses and suits.

As you and Natasha entered the hall, many heads turned to look at you. Natasha, in her elegant smoking, held your hand tightly and confidently led you through the crowd.

You felt a little overwhelmed at first, but Natasha's presence calmed you down. You introduced yourselves to various high-ranking guests, and Natasha made sure you felt comfortable and included.

Back in the ballroom, you and Natasha danced to the soft music played by the live band. But suddenly an elegant woman in a black dress approached you. She had an aura of confidence and a clear aura of past intimacy.

"Natasha," the woman said, placing a hand on Natasha's arm. "It was a long time ago." Natasha turned around and immediately recognized her ex-girlfriend, Elena. "Elena," she said coolly and pulled her hand back. "What are you doing here?"

You watched the scene and felt a slight uncertainty rising. But Natasha quickly made it clear where her loyalties lay. "Y/n, this is Elena. An old... acquaintance."

Elena smiled charmingly, but her eyes flashed with curiosity. "Oh, and who is this charming woman at your side?"

"This is Y/n,” Natasha said firmly and pulled Y/N closer to her. "My partner." Elena raised an eyebrow, "Well, I see you've finally found someone who makes you happy. Good luck to you both."

Natasha nodded just a little and then turned completely to you again. "Let's keep dancing," she said and led you back to the dance floor without even looking back at Elena.

Suddenly Natasha felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. She took a quick look at it and saw that it was an urgent call. "I have to take this call," she said apologetically to you. "I'll be right back."

You nodded understandingly. "Okay, I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime." You looked at your reflection in the mirror. How did Elena convince Natasha back then? Was she just one of those girls? Or something else?

You couldn't help but let your mind wander until you felt Natasha's hands on your shoulders again. "I can see something is going on. Please don't tell me it's because of Elena." You turned around. "And what if it is? How long has it been between you?"

Natasha studied your gaze until she had to grin. "Is someone jealous?" Your eyes stayed on hers, but she could see the frown. "It was over with her years ago. Don't worry about it... I only have you on my mind." Her hands ran down your arms.

Her lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongues mingling and swirling in an intimate dance. Your heart pounded against your chest, an artesian well coming to life inside you. Natasha slipped her hands under your dress and caressed your bare back. You couldn't help but laugh “seriously? Here?”

You leaned your head back and bared your neck, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you gasped for air. "S-S-Shit, Natasha.."

She pushed you against the cold tiled wall, grabbing your face and lifting it up so your eyes met. She kissed you again, this time slowly and deeply, your tongues wrestling and exploring each other. The heat between you grew steadily, your breaths mingling and fueling the fire that burned within you.

Slowly, Natasha's skilled hands began to wander, moving down your front and caressing the soft fabric stretched tight over your nipples.

"I want to feel every inch of you."

You fluttered your eyes shut, your body melting into the intimate embrace. Natasha seemed to embody that very quality, her firm grip and commanding presence sending shivers down your spine.

"What do you want, baby?" Natasha asked, kissing your jaw. "Do you want me to touch you? Taste you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath catching as Natasha's fingers danced tantalizingly close to your aching breasts.

Natasha grinned, her eyes shining with desire as she traced a trail of wet kisses down your neck. Her hand finally slipped under the fabric of your bra and roughly cupped a breast.

"Oh god," you moaned, your fingers clenching in Natasha's hair as the nipple hardened under the older woman's touch.

"You're so sensitive," Natasha whispered against your flushed skin. "And I'm just getting started." She teased the sensitive tip with her thumb, drawing a helpless gasp from your lips.

Then she quickly unclasped your bra and let it fall from your body, exposing your bare breasts. Instantly, your nipples tightened even more under Natasha's heated gaze. Without a second's hesitation, Natasha leaned down and took one of your nipples into her mouth.

"Oh, f-fuck!" you cried. You couldn't believe what was happening. Every thrust of Natasha's tongue, every flick and swirl sent sparks of pure ecstasy through your veins. You moaned loudly, your hands tightening in Natasha's red hair, urging her on.

With a growl of pleasure, Natasha sucked harder on your nipple, pulling it deeper into her hot, wet mouth, then released it with a pop.

"God, you taste amazing," Natasha gasped, turning her attention to your neglected other breast. Her fingers slid down your waist, exploring the soft skin of your stomach before dipping under the waistband.

Natasha's touch was electric, and you couldn't help the tremors that shook your body as your desire grew stronger. You writhed in pleasure as Natasha expertly teased your aching tips, each tug and pull sending waves of scorching heat through you, igniting your nerve endings.

Her other hand dipped beneath the elastic of your panties and she slid her fingers through the silky auburn locks that protected your core. Her fingers penetrated deeper, sliding over your swollen, wet folds as she sought and found your weeping entrance.

Natasha's touch was masterful and she knew exactly how to control your body. She slid her skilled fingers through your dripping slit and ran a deft finger over your sensitive clit, making you buck against the wet, warm invasion.

Natasha breathed heavily and slid her fingers deeper inside you, her touch slippery as she curled her fingers and caressed that inner spot no one had discovered inside you before.

Your moans intensified, the world spun around you. She began a rhythmic, relentless pace, driving her fingers in and out of your wet heat, your bodies melding in an intimate dance, an erotic ballet of pleasure. Natasha's lips found yours, consuming your moans and whimpers in a lingering kiss.

"You like this, don't you?" Natasha asked, her words hot and labored as she broke the kiss, leaving you breathless and trembling.

You nodded, unable to find your voice.

All that escaped your lips was a hungry moan as Natasha curled her fingers into your wet folds again. With each thrust, you thought you might just fall apart, that the wave engulfing you might finally crash over you.

"Oh, how you love this," Natasha whispered in your ear, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You're so fucking wet for this, you need it."

You gasped, unable to deny the truth of those words. Despite everything, you couldn't help but squirm and moan as Natasha continued her skillful assault. Her talented fingers moved in and out of your sweltering wet heat, rubbing at that inner spot that made you see God and stars alike.

"You know what to do," Natasha said, her breath hot against your ear. Her fingers continued their relentless assault on your quivering core.

Your mind swirled, overwhelmed by a whirlwind of pleasure. You felt yourself slipping deeper into blissful oblivion with each thrust of Natasha's talented fingers.

"Please!" you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... want... Please let me come!"

Natasha's lips curved into a wicked smile. "Good girl," Natasha murmured, her voice deep and sexy. Seeing your flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes, she knew she had you on the edge of arousal. She pressed firmly against your clit with her thumb and forefinger, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild.

With a final flick of her wrist, Natasha slid a third finger into your wet heat, filling you completely. You gasped and arched your back, your head resting on her shoulders.

Natasha slid her other hand ne hind your back, holding you firmly against the sink as she rhythmically plunged her fingers deep into your tight channel.

Your breathing quickened, your chest rose and fell in irregular patterns as your orgasm approached a painful climax.

"Don't hold back, Detka. Let me feel you." Natasha coaxed you, her commanding tone urging you to let go. Her movements became faster, almost frantic.

"Come on. Don't fight against it. Fall apart for me." With a strangled moan, you succumbed to the delicious burst of pleasure that coursed through your body.

Legs shaking, orgasm washing over you like a flood, your nerves tingling with the sheer force of your release. Your body spasmed as wave after wave of euphoria enveloped you, each trembling contraction pushing you to the edge of a deep abyss that threatened to swallow you whole.

And Natasha watched with wild satisfaction, her fingers never trembling as she pounded relentlessly into your wet, throbbing core.

After your intense moment, Natasha helped you compose yourself. Her eyes were still full of intensity, but also of something else. "Y/n," Natasha said seriously. "There's a plane waiting for you tomorrow. It will take you back home."

You looked at Natasha confused. "W-What? Why?" Natasha took your face in her hands. "I love you. But I don't want you to be in danger. Dreykov is here in Spain and I need to take care of him. It's safer for you if you go home."

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "But you brought me here? Why should I leave now?" Natasha sighed "My team set a trap for Dreykov. He's here in Spain now and I need to make sure he's no longer a threat. I can't leave you here while that happens."

You nodded slowly, your tears streaming down your face. "But I don't want to leave you." Natasha kissed your forehead gently. "I'll come as soon as possible. I've booked an apartment for you where you'll be safe. It's only for a short time."

In the morning, you sat quietly in the car and looked out the window. The Spanish countryside rushed past you, but your thoughts were on Natasha. You felt empty and confused, not sure what the future would bring. Maria sat next to you, concentrating on the road, but she too seemed to be deep in thought.

Suddenly Maria's phone rang. You noticed the urgent expression on Maria's face as she answered the call. "Yes?" Maria said curtly.

You looked over at her curiously, and Maria quickly changed to a serious tone. "Stop the car," she suddenly said to the driver. "Right now."

You looked at her worriedly. "What's wrong?" Maria turned to you, her eyes full of determination. "Y/n, you have to stay in the apartment, am I clear?"

Y/N nodded hesitantly. "Yes, but What happened? Maria got out of the car and looked at you with a serious look. "I can't explain it to you now. Please, trust me. Stay in the apartment and wait for Natasha.”

You nodded again, although you still felt uncertain. Maria got into another car that had suddenly appeared and drove away quickly. The original car continued its journey and you looked out the window thoughtfully.

Back in your country, you entered the luxurious apartment that Natasha had booked for you. It was breathtaking. large windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, the decor was modern and elegant. But despite the beauty of the place, you felt lonely and abandoned.

You tried to call Natasha, but every time only the voicemail answered. “Hey, Natasha. Please call me as soon as you can. I'm worried,” you said into the voicemail and hung up with a sigh.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you decided to visit your best friend Sarah. When you stood in front of Sarah's door and rang the bell, it didn't take long for her to open the door. Sarah's eyes widened in surprise and relief when she saw you.

"Oh my God, Y/n!" Sarah exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Where were you? I thought you'd been kidnapped or worse!"

You smiled weakly. "It's a long story. Can I come in?" Sarah pulled you into the living room and sat next to you, worried. "Tell me everything. What happened?"

You began to tell your story, leaving out the dangerous details and Natasha's criminal activities. "I met someone, Sarah. Her name is Natasha. She took me to another world, and it was... exciting and scary at the same time."

Sarah looked at you with wide eyes. "You just disappeared! We were so worried. Tell me about her if she's so important that you'll drop everything!”

You smiled and nodded. “She's... special. She always knows what she wants. She makes all my sexual fantasies come true... And she's just... perfect. This woman has no fat, no spots, everything... just gorgeous.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “And what does she do for a living?” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Her family... is very rich and they respect traditions... and stuff.”

Sarah shook her head. “You also think I'm the last pea, don't you? Truth, now.” A few minutes later, you and Sarah were sitting there with a bottle of wine. After all, you had told everything - about the death of the man in your apartment, Natasha's connection to the mafia and the reasons why Natasha had sent you back.

Sarah looked at you, shocked and worried at the same time. “That's... How are you??” You sighed deeply and took a big sip of wine. "I don't know. She showed me that she would do anything for me. But it's also scary how far she would go."

Sarah put a hand on your shoulder. "I understand now why you're so in love, but also why you're so scared. What are you going to do now?"

You looked out the window and thought for a moment. "I don't know exactly. I just have to trust that Natasha will come back and that we'll somehow find a way to get through all this."

After thinking about it for a while, Sarah leaned forward and smiled mischievously. "I have an idea. Why don't we have a real girls' day today? We'll go for a massage, to the hairdresser and to a club in the evening. What do you think?"

You hesitated for a moment, but then you nodded slowly. "That actually sounds pretty good. I could really use a distraction."

Sarah beamed. "Perfect! Let's get started."

Sarah dragged you from one place to another. First, you went to a spa where you treated yourselves to a relaxing massage. You could feel the tension in your shoulders slowly easing away and you sighed deeply in relief.

"This is heaven," you murmured as the masseuse skillfully eased your tension. After the massage, you headed to a fancy hair salon. There, you got your hair cut and styled while Sarah got a new hairstyle as well. You laughed and chatted with the stylists and enjoyed the pampering treatment.

In the evening, you dressed in fancy dresses and headed to an exclusive club that happened to be near your apartment. The club was located in a wealthy area of ​​the city and was known for its elegant atmosphere and high-profile guests.

Sarah and you entered the club and were immediately greeted by the lively music and sparkling lights. You danced and laughed, leaving the worries of the day behind you and enjoying the moment.

Towards the end of the evening, as you were making your way back to the apartment, you noticed a man following you. He was charming and chatting to you, but you could see the underlying intentions in his eyes.

"It really was a great evening," the man said as you arrived at the entrance to your apartment. "Perhaps we could extend the evening a little longer?"

You smiled politely but firmly. "Thank you, but I think it's better if I go home now." The man didn't seem to accept that and took a step closer. "Come on, just one last drink."

Suddenly you heard a familiar, icy voice behind you. "I think she said no." You turned around and saw Natasha standing in front of you with sparkling eyes and a determined look on her face. The man backed away, startled.

"I think you should go now," Natasha said threateningly. The man didn't hesitate for long and hurried away. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked at Natasha.

Your relief quickly turned to anger. "Where were you? Why didn't you answer my calls?!"

Natasha sighed and stepped closer. "I couldn't answer the phone. I'm sorry." You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "You have no idea how worried I was. And now you just show up here like nothing happened?"

Your shoulders sank and you felt your anger slowly subside. "I was really scared, Natasha. I thought something had happened to you." Natasha pulled you into a tight hug, her voice soft and soothing. "I'm sorry for making you so worried..."

Finally, you let the tears flow freely and clung to Natasha. "Promise me you'll never make me so scared again." "I promise," Natasha whispered, holding you tightly in her arms. When the embrace broke, the two looked at each other. Natasha's face spoke volumes.

Your legs wrapped around Natasha's thighs and you forced your hips against hers. Natasha's lips curved into a smug grin before throwing you onto the bed.

With a playful glint in her eyes, she took off her shirt and tossed it aside. She leaned over you and ran her hands down your body to your waist, and with a deft flick of her hips, removed the remnants of your clothing. You lay before her in all your glory, your eyes wide with desire.

"You are so beautiful," Natasha purred, her voice deep and heavy with desire. You felt another surge of heat in your core as Natasha's eyes roamed over your naked body, lingering on every curve. Natasha hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her own pants, slowly sliding them down inch by inch, revealing her proud strap-on.

You looked up at the sight, suddenly fearless and excited. The very thought of taking something so impressive inside you was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure, but you didn't hesitate for a moment. You wanted it, no you needed it so much that you would risk your dignity just to get a glimpse of what this could offer you.

You stared at Natasha, your eyes fixed and full of desire. You nodded slowly, a silent expression of your approval. Natasha's grin widened, her eyes shining as she leaned in to whisper in your ear. "You don't know how much I've wanted this."

Her breath tickled your ear, making you shiver as Natasha's teeth gently bit into your earlobe, ripping a gasp from your lips.

"Is this what you want?" Natasha growled, framing your face with her strong hands and guiding you to look up at her with deep, mesmerizing eyes.

With a pinch of her lips and a roll of her hips, you forced Natasha to take the initiative and do what she wanted with you. Overcome by your lust, Natasha didn't hesitate - she took your mouth and pressed her lips roughly to your own. Your tongues met and mingled, your mouths opening wide as you pressed against each other, your wet bodies tangling.

You sucked in a sharp breath as the tip of Natasha's cock entered you, stretching you wide. Your legs tightened around Natasha and you gasped and moaned, unable to control yourself. Your skin felt like it was burning with pleasure, electric currents radiating from where they were, combining with an ache in your chest as she pushed further and further.

Natasha was all muscle and strength as she took your hips and lifted them up to her. Your throbbing clit was pressed against Natasha's hard pelvis, the dual sensation of penetration and friction sending an escalating wave straight to your soul and making your body tremble.

Your legs tightened around Natasha's waist, pulling her in deeper, urging her to take your body all inside her. The slick grip of your hip made Natasha moan as she plunged deeper into oblivion, sweat pouring down her brow. She was almost all the way inside you and the sight of your flushed skin and swollen lips made Natasha's heart race with desire.

"Please! Oh God, y-yes!" you screamed, your fingers digging into the bed sheets. Somehow the older woman managed to find even more energy, increasing her pace and grinding hard against your throbbing core until every last shred of her restraint was broken.

"F-fuc-k…!!!!" you begged, your body writhing and grinding against Natasha. She did not disappoint. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she pushed deeper and faster, determined to send you over the edge of pleasure.

As your body twitched and shook beneath her, Natasha gripped your ass and drove every inch of her rock-hard fake cock into your quivering hole as if she was trying to pierce the earth's core.

Without a moment's hesitation, Natasha wrapped her arms around your trembling thighs and held you tight as she moved in and out of your body like a piston at a dizzying, relentless pace. The wet, slick sounds of your bodies touching echoed through the small room, punctuated by your cries of delicious pleasure.

Fingernails scratched and clawed at flesh, your bodies contorted in Ecstasy. You clung to Natasha, your legs wrapped tightly around her waist as Natasha impaled you over and over, going deeper with each thrust.

“S-Soo..rough!! Fucki-ng..”You cried out between labored gasps, a string of throaty curses escaping your lips as Natasha worked your body raw. With each invasion of that glorious phallus, inch by delicious inch, your mind reeled.

The thickness, the length you could feel inside you, filled you with an intensity beyond pure pleasure. Every thought, every doubt vanished in the heat of your lust. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end.

Natasha was insatiable. Her body moved like an unstoppable machine, thrusting in and out of you with a passion that made you both feel like you were losing your minds in that moment of exquisite sensation. Sweat dripped from her skin at the intensity of your contact.

Her hips bucked wildly as Natasha thrust deep inside you, drawing a throaty gurgle from your half-open mouth. "Oh, fuck yes..!" She cursed, unable to hold back.

Your climax was building, your whole body shaking with the intense pleasure that threatened to overwhelm you. A sheen of sweat covered your body and your breathing became shallow and ragged as you felt the walls of your pussy tighten around Natasha's thrusting shaft.

You threw your head back, releasing a dull mixture of pain and pleasure that only made your impending orgasm more intense.

Natasha's pupils were wide as her fingers found your swollen clit, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger.

Your back arched, your moan an uncontrolled scream that echoed off the bathroom walls like a wounded animal.

"You're going to cum, aren't you?" Natasha growled, her voice dropping an octave with each word, sending shivers down your spine.

Your legs trembled and your teeth clenched like vices as you stared into Natasha's piercing eyes. Those eyes followed every breath, every gasp, every fluttering eyelid.

"I - Natasha! I'm close... so fucking c-close!" you whispered hoarsely, your bucking hips rolling in time with your partner's relentless thrusts.

Your nails left flesh-red streaks on Natasha's back, each stroke capturing your lover's primal animal essence. Intense musky scent bloomed from your wet connection, smearing your pierced skin as the steady rhythm swelled to a crescendo.

With a strangled cry, you reached the edge. Your entire body shuddered as waves of pleasure washed over you. Natasha's hand, expertly placed on your clit and synchronized with her thrusts, brought you over the edge.

Your body tensed, then convulsed as you exploded in a shudder of ecstasy. Your scream echoed off the tiles and reverberated through the bedroom.

Natasha watched with satisfaction as your orgasm ripped through you, her eyes half-lidded in lust. The animalistic quality of the woman before her had ignited something deep within her.

With one final eruption, Natasha thrust into you with an intensity even she hadn't expected. "Ah, s-shit... almost-" Her head fell back, the feeling of dominance an exquisite aphrodisiac. She thrust one last time , “Yebat (shit), I'm coming!" Natasha cursed with a low growl.

Natasha bucked violently, her body tensing, and she surrendered to the orgasm that had developed into a feverish frenzy. Her thrusts gradually slowed as she breathed in unison with you, still intimately connected to you.

With a deep mixture of pleasure and agony, she felt herself collapsing against your chest, her vision blurring as the powerful aftershocks pulsed throughout her body.

You remained fused together, trembling in the aftermath of your shared orgasm. Your mingled breaths came in short, sharp gasps.

The silence that spread after the stormy night was soothing and filled the room with calm. "Will you marry me?" she asked, her voice rough and serious. You blinked in surprise and looked at Natasha as if to make sure you heard her correctly. "Are you serious?" you asked, your voice quiet and trembling.

Natasha nodded and took your hand in hers. "Dreykov is gone. He's history." she said, looking you deep in the eyes. "I let half of my team go. I closed my last deals. The house in Spain is empty now, and we could-"

"Yes," you said quietly, then louder and more determined. "Yes, I want to marry you."

Natasha smiled, "Say that again..." Natasha said, making your heart beat faster. "I want to marry you," you whispered, pulling Natasha into a hug. You leaned into Natasha and felt the relief and joy wash over you.

Later that morning, you prepared breakfast together. You laughed and chatted, enjoying the normality and simplicity of the moment. The threat of Dreykov had disappeared, and you could finally live in peace.

Natasha continued. "... and those who are still here will take care of legal business. My last big business deal is done, and I have everything sorted out so we can live without worries."

You looked at Natasha admiringly. "You really thought of everything." Natasha nodded and smiled. "Yes, I wanted to make sure everything was perfect."

A few weeks later, you and Natasha were seen at a home decor store, choosing furniture and decorations for your home in Spain. You laughed and discussed colors and styles, Natasha letting you make many of the decisions.

"What do you think of this one?" you asked, pointing to a sleek but comfortable looking piece. Natasha smiled. "I think it's perfect."

Back at the house, construction workers were working on implementing the changes you had planned. You and Natasha walked through the rooms together, discussing the progress and enjoying the changes.

"I want you to feel as at home here as I do," Natasha said, squeezing your hand. You smiled happily. "I already do. Thank you for including me so much."

Meanwhile, Maria was seen still in charge of the security staff. She glanced at the screens and gave instructions, but her expression was calmer than before. The danger was over, and she could focus on ensuring safety in more peaceful times.

In the evening, you sat together on the terrace of your house, the sun slowly setting, bathing the surroundings in a warm, golden light. You held hands and enjoyed the silence and calm of the moment.

"I can't imagine anything better than this," you said quietly, leaning your head on Natasha's shoulder.

"Me neither," Natasha replied gently. "We got through everything, and now we can really enjoy our lives."

Your love was stronger than ever, and you knew that as long as you were together, you could overcome any challenge. The future was bright, and you looked to it with hope and confidence.

The End.

:)

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🏷️ TAGLIST

@kipitou @thalia-is-not-ok @queen2234 @sgm616 @dorabledewdroop @natsxwife @natashaswife4125 @loneliestafterparty @jenniferjareauwife @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @agent99galanzo

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Alastor's reaction to "Bitch, what's for dinner?!"

There is no way in Heaven or Hell this man is every saying this to you. He'd be terrified of his Mama hearing him from Heaven and coming down to reinstill the fear of God into him. Wooden spoons and switches hurt when wielded by a righteously angry woman. Not that his mother hit him often (his father did more than enough).

And you value your life and your relationship with him to try it. In fact, it probably doesn't even cross your mind to test it.

You're not even sure why it's trending. It is a really sweet video and highlights the lingering effects of abuse, but for people to recreate the video is odd to you. I mean, maybe not, because you see a lot of cosplay under the sound, and you'd be lying if you didn't agree with some of the ships being perfect for this audio. But like, you don't want to recreate it with Alastor.

So how would it come up?

Well, you and Alastor are sitting together, it's later in the evening, he's reading his paper and listening to radio and you are sitting quietly beside him, phone volume and brightness on low so you can watch a few videos, the compromise you made with Alastor about technology being near him.

The sound comes across your feed paired with yet another couple re-enacting it and from the corner of your eyes you see Alastor's ear twitch as the door slams on the video and the man shouts at his girlfriend.

The second she responds with the timid "grilled cheese" his head snaps towards your phone, the video glitches, and your phone shuts off (at least he's stopped breaking them).

"How distateful. And to be comfortable with others seeing him behave so brutishly. Clearly, men today need to be taught manners, their poor mothers. What an embarrassment to have your child turn out so disappointing."

You lean against him and pat his arm.

"If you'd have waited until the end, you'd see it's just a trend. People yell this at their partners to see how they'll react, if they take that abuse or not, and if they do, they always reassure them to never let anyone speak to them that way. I think it's supposed to be cute and supportive."

Alastor rolls his eyes, muttering about how nonsensical that is. You get your phone working again and decide to put on a true crime podcast to listen to before getting up. It's your turn to make dinner, so Alastor's your helper and dishwasher tonight. You wait for him to finish his page, set his paper aside and stand, his arm going gently aroind your waist as you two stroll to the kitchen.

He stops in the entryway and turns to you.

"For the record, I should hope I would never stoop so low as to treat you that way, but if I do, or if something I say or do truly upsets you or harms you....please do not refrain from telling me."

You laugh and kiss his cheek. "Just telling you? Usually those videos end with their parnters granting permission for their partner to slap them."

Alastor chuckles. "If you feel it's necessary. Though I'd prefer we just talk."

"I'd prefer that too. And same goes for you, always tell me if I've crossed a line."

"Of course, my dear. Now, I'll demonstrate the proper way to phrase that question."

He takes your hand dramatically, lifts it to kiss the back of it, and guides you fully into the kitchen. "What are we making for dinner, mon cher?"

[greatdenimbeast]

Diamond Castle au- introducing, Shadow, Muse of History, Astrology and Astronomy

Once a mortal in ancient Greece, moulded from clay by an inventor and brought to life by the blood of a god, he spent his years caring for his ill sister, Maria. Doing his best to assist his creator in finding a cure. Since the blood of god ran through his veins and, seeing that his existence was a miracle in of itself, it stood to reason that he could be the miracle that helped save her

Cuz he was quite literally born yesterday, his sister loved to tell him stories about historic events, tales of gods and heroes to teach him about the world and how it cane to be. She was a damn good storyteller too, always leaving Shadow craving for more.

His favourites were the ones related to the stars, the constellations, so much so that Gerald noticed and taught him how to properly chart them

Maria wasn’t allowed to leave the house, her grandfather fearing that the elements would be too much for her and that often made her sunny demeanour dull and, looking to cheer her up, he did his best to find ways to brighten her mood until found one that worked

He entertained his bed-ridden sister with tales of history, of old dead heroes, of gods, of prophecies, things that he had picked up from local traders and travellers when he was out running errands for Gerald.

Maria was enthralled by them, hanging off of his every word

“The island of Crete truly holds such a monster?”

“It’s travellers gossip, but who’s to truly say.”

He wasn’t as good of a storyteller as she was but he did keep record of every story he could, and Maria loved it so that was all that mattered

As Maria got worse, Shadow started praying and giving offerings to the god Asclepius and the god Apollo, he doubted they would come to his aid but if there was a chance they could help he wanted to be sure.

But it was getting harder to cure her, some of the medicinal herbs they needed grew far off and the merchants that brought them to the markets to sell them kept marking up the prices out of greed. So Shadow, who had been blessed with inhuman speed, was sent off to pick the herbs himself, allowing him the opportunity to venture and see more of the world and bring back more stories, even making a few of his own, slaying a few monsters on the the way

The soldiers for the nearby king didn’t make it easier, tormenting the people for laughs, outright stealing, sometimes outright killing people when they refused to cave to their demands. Gerald was always being pulled away from his work for a cure to craft machines and statues for the king, the only reason the soldiers were unable to harm him or Maria when he refused was because of Shadow being there to protect them.

This became an issue when the king decided that he wanted Shadow

Soldiers stormed the house and workshop, taking the inventor prisoner, dragging him away to the castle and as Shadow tries to get Maria to safety she pushes him out of the way of blade and gets stabbed through her stomach

Shadow blacks out.

When he comes back, his hands are covered in blood, the bodies of dead soldiers litter the floor, his ears are ringing.

The only other breathing Shadow could hear besides his own was the shaky, laboured breaths of his older sister

He rushed to her side and examined her, the wound was deep, too deep. He tried his beat to clean up the blood but he could barely see what he was doing past his own tears. As he did he prayed, to his other father, to Apollo, to any god that would listen, to please save his sister, to not let her die

Then Maria’s hand squeezing his stopped him

“Sh…Shadow… o-one more story…”

“Maria please, please, i have to treat this, I won’t let you die, i won’t let you, i can’t let you die!”

“One…one m-more… please?”

“…okay… okay, one more story.”

So he shakily told her a story, about the fabled diamond castle, the birthplace of music, home to the museum of music. He struggled to remember parts of the story but Maria shakily helped him fill in the blanks

Then as the story concluded, Apollo made his presence known and applauded the two on how exemplary their storytelling was. It turns out Shadow has gained Apollo’s attention for a while, ever since he started praying to him and he had an offer for him

He wanted him to be his muse, an inspiration, a god. Initially Shadow wanted to refuse until Maria winced and coughed in his arms, then he got an idea

“…Lord Apollo I will accept this honour on one condition, that you heal my sister of her wounds and her ailment so that she may live as freely as she wishes.”

Apollo accepted these terms and gave Shadow, ambrosia (the food of the gods). It burned away his mortality and left him a god

And Apollo fulfilled his part of the deal, healing his sister, and did Shadow one better by turning Maria immortal so that she may be Shadow’s attendant to assist him in his duties before whisking them both off to the diamond castle

50 years later Shadow meets the next muse

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake, Son of Green Arrow: A Wild What-If Timeline

Okay, picture this: Tim Drake ends up being adopted by Oliver Queen. Wild, right? But hear me out.

It all starts with Janet Drake. Back in her boarding school days, she was close friends with Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. As adults, they drifted, but she always trusted them. So, when drawing up a will with Jack, she names Oliver as Tim’s guardian if anything ever happens to them. Why Oliver? He’s got a stable family life with Dinah, and Bruce is still just “Brucie” at this point, with no Dick Grayson or Robin yet in the picture.

Fast forward. Tim’s parents die in a tragic accident, leaving him alone… until Oliver Queen steps in. Tim gets whisked away to Star City, where he finds himself in a home that actually feels like a family. Oliver, Dinah, and Roy include him in their lives in a way his biological parents never did. They’re attentive, warm, and actually there.

Tim’s obsessive interest in Gotham and the Bat still exists, though. Even as he helps the Queens behind the scenes (because, of course, Tim figures out their identities), he keeps an eye on Gotham and Robin. When Jason Todd dies, Tim immediately notices the shift in Batman. He sees how broken Bruce becomes and, unable to ignore it, brings it up to Oliver.

Oliver listens. He pulls some Justice League strings, and they all step in to help Bruce. But even with the intervention, Tim can see Batman isn’t the same. Batman needs Robin.

Tim, being Tim, takes matters into his own hands. He sneaks back to Gotham, tracks down Bruce, and demands to be Robin. Bruce, skeptical but too tired to argue, lets him. Tim starts living a double life—splitting his time between Gotham as Robin and Star City with the Queens, who have no idea what he’s up to. Bruce assumes Tim’s guardian is some guy named Eddie (a lie Tim pulled out of thin air), and Tim’s balancing this precarious act of being a superhero under two noses.

Then comes the reveal.

After the Tower incident, when Jason comes back and beats Tim bloody, Tim limps home to Star City, where he can’t hide the injuries anymore. Oliver and Dinah are horrified. They demand answers, and Tim finally confesses everything. Dinah is livid, Oliver is fuming, and Roy is caught somewhere between “I’m proud of you” and “I want to wring your neck.” Oliver decides he’s going to have a chat with Bruce about endangering his son.

But Tim? He begs them to let him stay as Robin. He swears he’ll stop as soon as someone else steps in, but Gotham needs Robin. Reluctantly, the Queens agree, but now they’re involved. The next time Bruce and Tim are working a case, Oliver is in the Batcave, glaring daggers at Bruce while Dinah insists on debriefing Tim like he’s an adult.

And oh, the dynamics.

Tim is fiercely loyal to both his families. He adores the Queens—they’re the parents he always wanted—but the Bats become like a second family to him. Jason, after getting over the guilt and anger, starts treating Tim like a brother. Meanwhile, Roy and Jason develop this weird rivalry over who’s Tim’s actual favorite sibling.

Roy: “I taught Tim how to shoot a bow. Can you even use a bow?” Jason: “I’m sorry, does the term ‘second Robin’ mean nothing to you? He’s literally following in my footsteps.” Tim: “I like both of you equally!” Tim, internally: It’s definitely Roy.

Bruce? Bruce gets jealous. He watches Tim laugh freely with Oliver or cling to him at the Watchtower, and there’s this pang of something he doesn’t want to admit. Bruce cares about Tim, but Tim’s already got a dad in Oliver, and it shows.

But at the end of the day, both families fiercely love Tim. Whether he’s in Gotham or Star City, he’s surrounded by people who’d do anything for him. And Tim? Tim wouldn’t trade either family for the world.

[thethronezone]

Primarchs and their child's education

Explanation: So I was thinking, like, would the Primarchs kids be homeschooled (personal tutors and such)? Or would they go to regular school for regular (noble) kids? Would the Primarchs help with their homework? Are they relaxed or tiger parents?

Honestly, Mortarion almost forgot that his kid had to get an education until one day someone asked him what school he was going to send them to. However, he quickly decided that it was probably for the best for his kid to be taught by personal tutors, teachers that could adapt their way of teaching to better suit his kid. Pretty strict about their education, wants them to do well, but he's not overbearing and does offer them some gruff praise when they perform to expectation.

Fulgrim saw the options and went "Why not both?" Both regular school and homeschooling. This way, his precious child gets to both dazzle the other kids and the teacher AND get the advanced education they deserve! Fulgrim thinks this is the perfect solution. Doesn't realize that this rarely leaves his child the time to explore their own interests. Also a helicopter parent. He wants to know what his kid is doing and how well they are doing at all times.

Angron didn't get to go to school, he wasn't given that opportunity, so he wants his child to have it. Won't admit that it makes him anxious to send them out there, to a place where he can't keep an eye on them, but doesn't want to limit his kid just because he won't stop worrying. Appears disinterested in their education, barely asks about it and just grunts when he gets an answer but he actually does care. It makes him feel better when his kid tells them about an interesting lesson they had or a new friend they made.

When Magnus' kid is young, they are homeschooled. He recognizes that as the child of a Primarch, they have other needs. Find the perfect tutors for them that can keep them both stimulated and engaged. But when his child gets a bit older, he sends them to school. He knows that the best way to develop your mind is to engage in conversations with other people on your same level. Through all of this, Magnus is very invested in his child's education and helps teach them when he's got the time.

Perturabo is a straight up tiger parent. He demands success from his kid in all areas, including education. They are taught by the best, strictest tutors the Imperium has to offer. Poor kid, most of their day is spent inside, studying. And when the tutors are finished, that's when Perturabo or one of his captains step in for further education, this time focused on warfare and siege tactics. If Perturabo is in a good mood, he might teach them about architecture, but it rarely happens as he thinks they will never get the chance to utilize this knowledge.

Alpharius and Omegon sends their kid to school, explicitly telling them to observe the other children and the teachers, to learn how they behave and to infiltrate their inner circles. Then, when you get back home, tell them what you've observed and analyze what this means. Yeah, they are treating all of this as a training exercise. And while they don't necessarily encourage their kid, they don't discourage it either. As long as they get away with it, then it's all ok. Meanwhile, they are pretty confident that their kid will do well in school. They are intelligent, after all.

Say after me: Lorgar's kid is homeschooled. Personally interviews each tutor to make sure they are the right teacher for his little miracle. Will listen in on the lessons and then act surprised when his kid tells him how they went. There's a lot of philosophical discussions about WHAT they learned. Lorgar does recognize that his kid needs to meet other children and lets some of the serf's children join in on the lessons.

Horus spends a long time thinking about it, considering the pros and cons to both regular school and homeschooling, before he eventually ends up choosing homeschooling. He just thinks it's better for his kid to have tutors focused solely on them. Keeps walking in on lessons and ask both the tutor and his kid how they're doing. Sometimes ends up taking over the lesson if he thinks he can explain something better than the teacher.

Konrad is torn. On one hand he doesn't want to send his kid out into the big world (it's dangerous out there!) but he also doesn't want to invite a stranger into his home and let them get close to his child. Eventually settles for a tutor. ONE tutor. That he keeps a close eye on. Doesn't really care if his kid is doing well and keeping up to the curriculum. He doesn't care if they are a lil stupid, as long as they are happy and safe. Does, however, feel really proud if they show him their good work.

Like Magnus, Sanguinius initially has his child taught by personal tutors and then, when they are older, sends them to school so they can interact with other children. Very interested in their school-life. Are they making friends? Are they having fun? How are the teachers? And their classmates, are they getting along with them? Are they keeping up with the lessons? Makes sure that his kid knows they can always come to him if they have any material from school they want help with or want him to explain.

Corvus feels a bit guilty for not sending his kid to regular school because he doesn't want to isolate them. At the same time, he can't help but feel like it's better for them to have personal tutors and be homeschooled instead. Of course, if his kid at any point makes it clear that they WANT to go to regular school then Corvus will allow it. He really only wants his kid to be happy. Not very demanding when it comes to how well they do in school but he does want them to do their best. That's all he expects.

You think Ferrus would settle for any school in the Imperium? Nah. Dude takes one look at the curriculum and goes "Arts and crafts? Useless. My child is going to actually learn something of value" and then contact the Mechanicus and ask to borrow a few magos to tutor his kid. But it's not going to be all theoretical. No, Ferrus is going to put all those lesson to the test and push his kid through exercises where they gotta use that knowledge to get out of mazes and shit. Here, solve this mathematical equation, the room explodes in five minutes (it won't, he's just want to encourage them to do their best).

Rogal takes the education of his child very seriously. Knows the curriculum inside out, probably helped make it because, yeah, his kid is getting homeschooled. Asks his kid how they are doing even though he already knows because he's keeping such a close eye on their lesson plans and the notes the tutors leave. Does expect his kid to study diligently but his expectations are realistic. He also makes it clear to them how important it is to rest and exercise. Wants his child to have a balanced life.

Vulkan's kid would definitely go to school. He'd want them to experience a somewhat normal childhood and for them to socialize with children their own age. And yeah, he wants them to do well in school but if they need extra help then he can get them that, he mainly wants them to make friends. The kind of parent that keeps asking their kid when he's going to meet their school friends and attends all the events (if he's not busy with war or something). It's actually a tad overbearing. He's a bit too involved. It PTA still existed then he'd be there every week.

Lion decides to have his child taught by personal tutors, a couple of scholars that he did extensive background research on and is pretty confident can be trusted with his child's education. Tries to not be too involved, doesn't want his child to become too dependent on him, but he does keep an eye on their curriculum and how they are doing in their lessons. Also very high expectations on them but doesn't say this outright, since he expects his child to understand that he expects them to focus on their lessons.

Leman sends his kid to school. Go on, get out there and rub elbows with the other kids! Now, Leman actually it's important that his kid gets a good education and demands that they do their best in class. But he also tells them to have fun. Get in trouble! Make your voice heard and show them who you are! Mostly sees school as a way for his kid to gain some independence, to become more of their own person. Will loudly and proudly celebrate if they come back from school with good grades. Yah, his pup is so smart!

As for Jaghatai, I believe he would also send his child to school. Like Russ, it would be for them to grow as an individual and to meet new people who can expand their worldview. Does expect them to do well in school and to be diligent in their studies but also instills in them the value of free thought and critical thinking. School can only teach you so much, you need to know how to put that knowledge to good use and to understand it on a deeper level. Is however more interested in hearing what his kid got up to while in school.

Roboute kinda mixes the two options. His kid has a tutor, yeah, but they are taught alongside a smaller group of other kids their age. It's not really a regular school but it's not homeschooling either. Very, very involved in their education and tells them that while he knows they can only do their best, that he knows they can do great things if they just put their mind to it. The kind of parent to talk very proudly of his kid's academic achievements, even if they are still very small.

[grapejuicestyless]

Moon Song

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: “The, “wanting-to-be-stepped-on” feeling. Wanting someone to treat you so badly, because at least they’ll treat you at all.”

“You couldn’t have.”

She sobbed quietly, her hands holding nothing more than the threads of his shirt. In the end, it was all she had left. It was all she ever owned. Not his heart, or his peace of mind, but the shirts he ruined that she stayed up all night fixing. The stitching was brand new, it was all so well done. The work that only came from a woman who cared.

“You couldn’t have.”

She repeated, the thread tangling between her fingers. The moon casted over her features, her usually so soft, docile eyes shining with a different, dim despair that stunk of JJ’s name.

“Y/n.” He called out. She wasn’t moving, she was barely breathing right, and yet he was forced to sit and watch her go away through the glimpses of her bone crushing pain he had caused.

Because she couldn’t even look at him anymore. She didn’t see her sweet, attentive boyfriend she thought she had been adoring this whole time. No, she only saw the reflection of his best friend. The one person he swore on all of his stars that meant nothing to him.

And she had stupidly sat and listened to how he thought she was hot, another woman all while she laid in in his arms with a girlish glow, just happy to have been finally held by someone so closely.

“Does she love you?” Y/n asks stupidly, but she has every right to know. Because, unfortunately for the both of them, if she knew it was only a kiss, if it meant nothing, she wouldn’t be able to cut the tether that held them together. She would push down the sinking feeling until it crushed the earth beneath her and sucked it up and stayed because nobody had ever showed an interest in her the way JJ had.

Nobody had ever asked to walk her home because they wanted to see her for just a moment longer. Nobody had ever taken her to the secret hideouts on the island, and nobody had ever taught her how to kiss until JJ sat her down and showed her that it was possible. That it was real.

“I don’t know.” The answer hangs heavy.

Y/n takes a choked breath, her ears ringing.

“Do you love her?”

There’s a heavy silence, it doesn’t last long, but the fact that there had to even be a moment to consider something sends warning bells through her head.

“Shes my best friend.” JJ answers quickly, but it reveals everything.

“Oh god!”

She cries, and she physically crumples in her posture. Her feet scrape against the exposed roots in the dusty backyard that belongs to JJ’s best friend. Theres a grave carved into the trunk and for a moment, Y/n pictures her name stabbed beneath the others. Only, she’ll really be dead.

“But it’s different with you, baby! Believe me, I thought that I wanted her, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like it is with you!”

He swore, he prayed to her like it was the truth, but he was a bad liar, a man who adored to be loved but could not give it.

“You’re sick!” Y/n screamed at him, backing away like he was some poisonous alien, and maybe he was.

“Y/n.”

He pleads, and he follows, and he’s on her heals because they both know if he stays close enough, she’ll stay within his reach. She would wait until he wanted her again, like a dog with a bird at his door.

“You are sick! And you’re in love with Kiara!” She screamed, unaware of how the people who had once called Y/n their own watched pitifully from the back windows. Of how Kiara sat with a pained expression on her face, because she had seen Y/n as her sister.

“Y/n stop!”

JJ grabbed at Y/n’s shoulders, shaking her until she cried, a loud sob ringing through the air, painfully scraping through her chest and up her throat.

“How could you?” She begged to know, her eyes shut, her salty tears staining her once happy cheeks. “How could you?”

“I love you.” JJ tried to convince her, but even he seemed to grow tired of his lies.

“If I could give you the moon, I would have given you the moon.” She cried, her lungs deflating around the empty crevice in her chest that once held her heart.

Y/n craved that wanting-to-be-stepped-on feeling. She didn’t mind how sometimes JJ’s boots hurt her chest because even though he treated her horribly, he was treating her at all. But now, she stood in front of him with cracked ribs and an aching feeling where her heart once was, unable to bring him any more birds, unable to wait by the empty water bowl any longer.

She was starving, and so, so thirsty, and still, she waited patiently for him. He was a monster in every right, keeping her chained to an old post in the yard and watching her walk in circles. But even worse, he didn’t seem to really care.

“I had a life before you. I had a future! I was going to be something great!” She stressed, “and now I have nothing because I didn’t second guess you when you told me you loved me.”

JJ’s hands slipped from her body, and only then did he seem to realize that maybe this time his simple acknowledgment of her wouldn’t be enough anymore. Only then did he realize how he had taken for granted what he had, what he lost.

When she walked away from him that night, it seemed that the moon shined a little less brightly. It seemed that even though it was deemed impossible, somehow Y/n had a hold on the moon, that truly, she would have given him anything because to her, he was everything.

Now, JJ was stuck with the rips and loose threads on his tank tops, and all the dead little birds left at his feet, and JJ would never have the moon.

[lucy90712]

Heyyyy ♡♡♡♡♡♡

Could I request a headcanon on the boys ( whoever you want) giving reader the orincess treatment?

Gavi: 

- He has always treated you like you'll disappear if he doesn't give you the best which of course he should do regardless but he always goes above and beyond because he wants you to feel like he's treating you like a princess at all times

- He does everything to make sure he's the best boyfriend you've ever had and hopefully good enough to be your last he's very good at it too he never takes you for granted and always makes sure he makes time for you especially when he knows you need him most

- You are his passenger princess 

- Once he had his license you were the first person he took out in his car he came straight from doing his test to your place to pick you up and take you somewhere he doesn't even have anywhere to go but he just drives around 

- Now that he can drive he won't have you driving him or yourself anywhere if he can help it he drives you to your classes and to see your friends purely because he loves driving you places as he gets to listen to you sing along to whatever playlist he plays in the car and he can hold your hand or have his hand on your thigh which he really enjoys as he loves to savour little moments like that 

- He absolutely loves late night drives and he will always bring you along with him as he drives to somewhere that he can park the car and you guys can just enjoy the scenery and he can just stare at you as you look better than the view to him anyway 

Pedri: 

- He was raised to always respect women and as soon as he got his first girlfriend his parents made sure he knew how to treat her even though he was young and that has only been drilled into him more as he's got older so he has always been a gentleman and treated women well 

- Because of this he has never given you anything but the best although he never thinks of it that way he's just treating you like he was raised to do but for you it feels so amazing to be almost worshipped by him as all your last boyfriends have done the bare minimum at most 

- Pedri always likes to make sure you are doing well as when you get stressed or overwhelmed you aren't yourself and he loves the not stressed you so he tries his best to make sure you never get to that point and you are always smiling as he loves your smile 

- When you have a busy week Pedri will get come over to your place every night and cook dinner for you or at least attempt to as he wants to know that you have at least one proper meal each day when you have a lot going on he will also take over some of your chores as he knows you hate living in a messy place and it will just stress you out more 

- You are always so thankful for what he does for you but he never accepts anything in return because he knows that you will do the same for him when he is schedule gets busy and you have many times

- When you live together none of this will change Pedri cares so much about you that he never wants to see you suffer when he help so even if he has a match that takes up most of his day he will still check in on you as he thinks that's the only right way to treat you 

Jude: 

- Jude treats you like a queen at all times because he knows that he should treat his girlfriend that way and because if he didn't his parents would kill him they have always taught him to be caring and treat others well especially friends and girlfriends 

- He always thinks that you deserve the world as you deal with so much like him not being around much, the constant media attention and all the negative comments on social media which he knows gets to you even though you say it doesn't 

- Obviously he can't change his schedule or what people say so instead he tries to make it up to you in any way possible which often involves spoiling you which he is lucky enough to be able to afford to get you anything you could possibly want 

- You are always telling him not to get you things but he does it anyway as he knows that you don't like to spend your money on unnecessary things for yourself so he does it instead because what's the point of earning the amount of money he does if he can't use it to spoil you 

- When you move to Madrid to live with him he gets you a brand new car as you can drive but you've only ever had old half broken cars so he gets you your dream car which you say is so that you won’t embarrass him if you drive him to training but really he just wants you to have the best 

- He also uses all his breaks to take you to the places you've always wanted to go he has a list of places you've said you want to visit so when he has some time off he picks somewhere off the list and books the plane tickets he loves doing this as he loves nothing more then seeing the smile on your face when you are exploring 

Joao: 

- Joao knows how to treat a woman right and he’s been in long term relationships so he’s pretty good at it but after his last relationship he blames himself for not being a good enough boyfriend  to her and not doing enough so he’s determined to not make the same mistake again 

- You always try and tell him that he wasn’t the reason his last relationship ended and that he’s more than good enough for you but still he insists on treating you like you are the only girl left on earth which obviously you love as he makes you feel so special 

- One of the many things that makes Joao a great boyfriend is that he knows you better than you know yourself at times he can pick up on when you are stressed and can help you before you have a breakdown and he just seems to always know how you are feeling without you telling him 

- To him being a good partner and treating you like a princess involves being attentive to your emotional wellbeing as well as your physical wellbeing because he’s been through hard time with no one to support him and he’s determined not to let that happen to you so whenever something bad happens he will be the one to be by your side and let you cry or listen to your feelings 

- Your relationship is very equal so all of your problems are his and vice versa that way you both always have someone to lean on when you need support as he didn’t have that in his last relationship which ultimately led to some of the downfall 

- Joao wants nothing more than to be the best partner he can be for you as he knows you deserve the best so even if at times he doesn’t think he’s enough he always tries his best and that’s what attracted you to him in the first place as all you care about is the fact that he’s trying as that’s all you can really ask for