#people will love you forever even if you think your impact is small | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chaichaiiskai · 1 year ago

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Hi okay so if you're still doing a request can I get a (baki) Pickle x bottom male reader. So I want public sex where Pickle FuCks Reader Hard infront of everyone kinda like the reporter scene but you know with consent but if your not comfortable with that just normal rough sex in a bed room or forest since that's where Pickle is from.

If your not comfortable with this then that's okay i understand.

notes: OKAY, so, I did not see this until I wrote the last pickle request so I'm gonna connect this ask with that one— it's right here if ya wanna read it, deffo recommend it bc of lore :D hope ya enjoy this too !!! can't even lie, I'm thoroughly invested in the story of Pickle and Cucumber and I'm honestly thinking about keeping these two as reoccurring on my blog ngl.

warnings: mdni, homophobes do not interact, amab reader, he/him pronouns, violence against others that aren't reader, murder, blood and blood depictions, brief description of violence against woman and their wombs, mxm, pickle is very protective and basically yandere but who wouldn't be during the jurassic time period, rim jobs, lack of prep before anal, noncon mentioned but not against reader, reader is called cucumber by the facility and is basically a nickname, cumflation, belly bulge, size difference, very massive, very long, giant cock that is more weapon than genital, rough and unprotected sex bc duh they're both primitive men, hunting of animals, drugging // food tampering— I think that's it, lemme know if I missed anything.

The ultimate goal of the experiment was to further test the pure, raw strength of the primitive man when fueled by emotion and longing, going without food for a week. And their experiment proved to be true, far too true as a matter of fact. Multiple casualties would be forever staining the pages that reported the experiment and any sane person would have ended the experiment then and there to reunite the two lovers again.

However, a man at the top, who thought of nothing but himself, wanted to see just how far Pickle would go, even if that meant more casualties would have to be made. And so, the bloodbath ensued.

As Pickle roamed the facility halls, wave after wave came at him, rubber bullets aimed his way and raining on him that proved to have no impact on him whatsoever. He easily swiped aside the nuisances that are in his way, swiping away the small people until they go flying, hitting nearby walls— the sound of cracking bones, splattering, and coughing is sickening. So sickening that some of the scientists, though they love their jobs, find themselves going against the higher-ups.

One bravely moves in front of Pickle and holds his hands up, attempting to seem as if he was defenseless and then began to point behind him, pointing at a large door that was down the hall the primitive man was currently stalking down.

"He's there! There!"

He quickly announced, and then used his other hand to wave in the direction of the security camera he knew was currently watching the entire sight.

And on cue, the giant doors opened. To your surprise, the wall opening woke you out of your forced slumber that was brought onto you by a primitive form of depression sparked by your loss of companionship.

With heightened abilities, Pickle smelled you before he saw you, and as soon as he laid eyes on you, he was unable to make a sound, simply getting into all fours again and bounding towards you at full-speed. Despite being weakened by the lack of nutrients, you slowly sat up onto your hands and knees before feeling yourself being tackled back to the ground, bodies rolling until the two of your slammed against a tree, Pickle's back took the blow and nearly uprooted the thing. He rolled again onto a patch of grass, still holding you comfortably in his arms until you were in a patch of grass, dropping you onto your back while he buried his face into your neck, starting to nibble onto any part of it that he can reach, sharp fang-like teeth scratching over your skin and leaving indents.

The door to this new enclosure is shut and on the outside, the cleaning procedure begins, but not without some scolding to the researchers who went against the higher-ups. Cucumber and Pickle did not seem to care about whatever was going on outside of them, far more focused on each other and keeping each other close.

From then on, Pickle cannot be more than a foot away from you, and he can only sleep when he's on top of you, shielding you from whatever threatens the outside.

The only scientists he allows inside the enclosure are small, fragile-looking women. He'd already killed a few of the male scientists who dared to enter, a warning and a threat. And recently, in hopes to appease the two primitive men and get back on their neutral sides, wild animals have been introduced into the enclosure, giving the illusion of a hunt for the both of you, and unfortunately, your enjoyment in fruit had been ruined thanks to the scientists and their cruel, cruel experiment.

You were only able to eat what Pickle hunted, and in another week, you looked more alive again, even helping with the hunt and relishing in Pickle's presence yet again. So far, it seemed that Pickle seemed to enjoy crocodile meat quite a lot, whilst you had your own preferences. And once you were back at a healthy level of energy, Pickle immediately recognized it and let his instincts win, one could not blame him for feeding into such carnal desires.

After an especially filling meal, you find yourself being hunted just like your previous meal, but it's the kind of hunt that gets the hair on the back of your neck standing. Your primitive partner growls at you in a suggestive manner and suddenly, he's chasing you around the enclosure, getting the adrenaline pumping in your veins and his. And when he's had enough, he's got you pinned down onto the ground, pulling at the loin cloth that keeps you from him until it comes off, making him toss it aside. He's hurried and hungry, yanking his own loin cloth off as you roll onto your stomach, eager for him to mount you, hardened cock swinging between your legs while a bead of pre dribbles out the top. You're on your knees, propping your body up in the ideal position for— breeding essentially.

Pickle is eager himself, lining his massively thick, veiny dick up with your rim, nearly growling at the anticipation as he presses the head against it and starts to push. Every part of the tanned man is large, including his third leg that was just a few inches over a foot in length and thick like a world record-breaking, sizable anaconda. He tried to force himself into you, but you push him out, obviously because it's been a while and it seems to frustrate the beast, eliciting a growl from him as he eyes your little hole with his brows furrowed. Everytime you breathe, it winks at him, almost like it's taunting him and you can't help but to grow frustrated, huffing at him from over your shoulder, but he can't stop staring at your hole, curious eyes drilling themselves into your ass.

Then, yet another instinct comes over him as he leans down, shoving his tongue past the first ring of muscle, the fat thing nearly longer than his cock. The sensation is strange but it only makes more pearls of pre dribble from your tip, your own cock seemingly throbbing as his wild tongue throbs around inside of you from behind, forcibly stretching you with its width. The muscle thrashes around inside of you, wildly moving about, darting in and out of you like an excitable puppy drinking water from a lake. His tongue movements are uncoordinated and hungry, so much to the point that it's darting about with no clear destination, even causing a few stray licks to the underside of your balls that makes you flinch every time.

Pickle isn't particularly sure what he's doing or why he's doing it, but he couldn't stop himself from feeding into the curiosity. It surprised you as well, considering he's never done to you before and you had never felt so good down there like this.

Shamelessly, a group of researchers and scientists were watching this ensemble unfold in real-time, gathered around with food in their hands like shameless perverts watching an adult film.

For science! They would most likely say, ignoring their own instincts to shove a hand in their pants at the scene in front of them.

The licking, although pleasant, was becoming too much and there was a buildup you were feeling in your shaft that had you panting like a dog, clawing at the ground and smashing your skull against the dirt. For some unknown reason, Pickle took your sounds as a signal of sorts and he remembered his own issue, heavy uncircumcised cock seeming to throb and lift with eagerness. Yet again, he pulls himself back to position himself properly, lining himself up with your hole and then pushes the tip in, a chirp of excitement escaping him as he plunges in deeper, going in about halfway before you feel as though the insides of your stomach are literally being rearranged. Fertile balls are pressed up against yours as he manages to jam every inch into your awaiting hole, somehow you're able to take every inch, an impressive feat within itself. Perhaps, this is why he took you as a lover. A flash of memories comes to mind to both you and Pickle.

. . .

Pickle had his share of sexual partners— instinctually he went after women, who he ultimately killed by accident after ripping through their wombs with the deadly length between his thighs. He had found a woman once, able to take him fully, but she did not recuperate his feelings and escaped him after a session of breeding. Eventually, Pickle stumbled upon Cucumber, a man of smaller stature than him, but strong in his own way. Their first meeting was anything but friendly, both of them going after the same prey of a Jurassic animal, looking for their next meal, fighting each other while simultaneously fighting the creature in hopes of getting meat. Ultimately, they ended up killing the beast together and bregrundingly shared, taking from the hunted beast without acknowledging each other much after.

But through unfortunate events, you continued to run into each other at different points in both of your traveling journeys, but continued to ignore each other regardless. And on one of those fateful meet-ups, however, Pickle had made a mistake— a mistake that brought on a sense of fear that he'd never once had to deal with before.

Consuming a wasp.

The pain he'd felt from it made him more vocal than ever, scaring away beasts and other people alike. However, Cucumber was not fearful, instead, he went a pang of sympathy for the man who he'd considered somewhat of a companion.

Immediately jumping into action, tapping into a nurturing side that he sometimes would ignore, he wandered hurriedly to the nearest lake of water, cupped his hands and gathered a healthy amount of it into his hands and wandered towards the other man. He growled at that primitive man who was still in excruciating pain, opening his mouth in an attempt to get the message across to him and with tears in his eyes, Pickle obliged, reminding Cucumber of a whimpering babe who was hungry for milk.

Dumping the handfuls of water into Pickle's mouth, you watched as he held the water in his mouth for a moment and then spit it out, along with the wasp, coughing up quite a storm. You frowned as he coughed, hesitantly patting his back afterwards, and after a while, you left to gather something to soothe the residual burning— fruits, which you forced Pickle to eat, despite his disdain for eating things that he did not hunt himself. But when he did as you wanted, the burn disappeared and you were ready to take your leave after helping him— only to have the man hot on your tail, everywhere you went, following you closely from behind.

Surprisingly, you didn't shoo him away, and that was what began the true extent of your strange relationship. It didn't take much longer before he would develop something new, love, and you returned the feeling. And in a moment of intimacy one late night, under the stars, he'd mounted you for the first time like a woman and breeded you under the moonlight. It was somewhat romantic, even with the guttural sounds of pleasure and delight that came from you both. And when you took him in his entirety without complaint, he was even more infatuated with you than he'd already been.

. . .

The primal man is grinning at this point as he's able to properly mount you, beginning to thrust at a pace that has your body rocking back and forth, his mouth and the area around it shiny with his own saliva as he plunges further. You're lucky you're stronger than the average and modern man, claws digging further into the dirt to keep yourself from toppling forward. Pickle is pounding into you, thrusting his hips with a tenacity that's enough to shake the trees around you, you're lucky your body is built for the brutality.

Watchful eyes are carefully observing, even going as far as to have a discussion onto why the two of you had chosen each other as mates since there was no chance of either of you reproducing. Then again, did reproducing matter much to the primitive people of your time? Apparently not, though Pickle seemed to be /breeding/ you as if it were indeed, possible.

Poor Cucumber was experiencing the true strength of Pickle's excitement, quite literally being fucked into the ground by a beast of mass destruction. The researchers collectively feel a sense of great respect for you as you handle the creature on top of you with gritted teeth, groaning and growling as you take every inch. It's a rough experience that leaves you teary eyed, wobbly lipped, and whining, just like all the other times he has his way with you. Pickle doesn't seem to let up, not even when your teeth chatter as a familiar and growing pleasure comes over you, blossoming in your hips and cock, strings of white spewing from your tip and onto the ground beneath you in spurts that seem to last far too long. Your cock seems to soften after cumming a second time, though it continues to twitch and swing with the pistoning of barbaric hips that continuously drive you forward. Squelching and the sound of skin repeatedly colliding is nearly as loud as the proud growls Pickle does, his chest vibrating with an animalistic equivalent of pride when you cum, squeezing his erection enough to milk him just right.

And fortunately, your poor hole doesn't need to take much more abuse before Pickle reaches his edge as well, unleashing copious amounts of his load into you, cum spilling out the edges where your bodies connected, dribbling out in the dirt like lines of salt. You'd felt full like this before, never able to get used to the feeling but still enjoying it regardless, a strange after result is the slight pouch in your lower belly that is made due to an immense amount of cum. Pickle holds himself there for a bit before pulling out and he's /still/ coming, ropes of the sticky white landing on your back and your rear, the insane amount he's dumped into you beginning to spill out and trickle from your gaping, spasming hole. Your lover lets out an affirmative, satisfied groan and then lays down onto the ground on his side right next to you. He wraps one of his lengthy arms around you and pulls you towards him, your chest neerly flush against his, and you rest your forehead against his shoulder, panting as you attempt to catch your breath, almost as if you'd been running after an especially fast prey. Pickle shuts his eyes and rests his chin on top of your head as he slowly shuts his eyes, having been drained of energy. It's not long before he's asleep and his body naturally locks in place around you, almost like a protective barrier. One of his legs is draped over yours, hooked behind your knees, his monstrous cock nestled between your thighs while yours is squeezed between your stomach and his abdomen, lower bodies entangled where it's almost difficult to distinguish between limbs. His arm is still wrapped around your back, the other had joined, slipping beneath you as his hands interlocked behind your back. This position is new, he's usually laying right on top of you when he sleeps, completely covering you up like a shell on the back of a turtle, making it nearly impossible to see you beneath him unless one looked from very specific angles.

You're tired as well, hole still leaking with Pickle's cum as your eyelids grow heavy. Your body is hot and sticky with sweat, making your skin stick to his, but you always find comfort in his presence, snaking your own arms around the massive man's body the best way you can before you drift off to sleep as well.

To the researchers and facility crew who are still watching on the security cams, they see the cuddling session as wholesome— despite the previous actions of you both— and nearly coo at the cuddling session.

Perhaps they would need to adjust their research and find different questions to think about...

#— chai’s asks. !!#— chai rambles. !!#— anonnie. !!#male reader #x male reader #amab reader #baki smut #baki the grappler smut #pickle x male reader #pickle x y/n #pickle x reader #pickle x you #pickle baki #baki pickle #yandere baki hanma pickle

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deathbxnny · 7 months ago

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Ok so can i tell you something? Im in love with the Halovian species from Penacony. Idk why but they just look so pretty and I WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT THEM. I WANNA HOW BIBLICALLY MESSED UP THEY ARE BECAUSE THE FAMILY ARE GIVING ME CULT VIBES! I even have 3 halovian OCs that im in the middle of making rn. Im not satisfied with them rn since i wanna wait for more lore about the Halovians.

With that being said, can i request Fontaine men (Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Lyney) with a Halovian s/o?

Context:

The halovian reader somehow got isekaied from Penacony to the Genshin Impact universe and just suddenly appeared in Fontaine. Do what you will with that small backstory ^_^

Hope you have a good day/night and take care of yourself!

- Flower anon 🌸

Hey there, Flower Anon!! I absolutely relate to the Halovian obsession, and thank you for the great request! I hope you'll like this!<33

Content: Reader is a Halovian, isekai troupe, established relationship, reader has Halovian wings abd a halo, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

》NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette immideatly knew at first sight that you didn't belong to this world. And yet, he treated you like everyone else when you two met. He didn't push you on your past or what you really were, but made sure to protect you from prying eyes or people that may want to harm you due to your rather unique appearance.

He finds your little wings and halo absolutely adorable, even if he doesn't show it often due to not knowing how he should express himself. But he definitely lights up when you allow him to pet/touch them. Neuvillette also doesn't allow anyone to bully or hurt you the same way he did it with the Melusines. He practically makes it law, and who would dare to oppose him anyway?

He finds it comforting to know that both of you have a secret identity you have to hide from the world. One only the other truly and really knows about. It makes him feel less lonely, and he's thankful for that.

》Wriothesley

He becomes suspicious of you at first, hiding his interest behind teasing words and narrowed eyes. But over time, he finds himself becoming rather obsessed with your look and the mystery that lies under the surface. Although it's hard to tell that he feels this way, considering his naturally secretive nature.

With that said, he is obsessed with your little wings. He's always gently pulling on them or fixing up your feathers for you. He won't let anyone look at you weird or bully your appearance either. He thinks you look divine, absolutely adorable. Anyone that disagrees is ofcourse very much wrong.

Wriothesley doesn't pry into your past, mainly because he'd know best how annoying that can be. If you never want to tell him, then so be it. And even when you do one day, he'll be there to support you and reassure you that it doesn't matter anymore down here in the fortress anymore. Life has restarted for the both of you, together.

》LYNEY

Lyney was absolutely fascinated by you at first sight. He couldn't help himself when he asked you too many questions, eyes never leaving your unique features that made his heart beat a little faster. If it wasn't for Lynette forcing him to have some shame, he would've never looked away from you. He definitely called you "angel" ever since your first meeting, and that never changed even after getting together. It felt wrong to him not to call you that.

He fusses over your appearance all the time, mainly over your wings and halo looking perfect. It makes him happy that he's the only one allowed to touch you this way. With that said, however, he knows that you being with him, considering who he belonged to, would end up causing you trouble. He'd protect you with his life though, that's for sure.

He understands if you aren't necessarily willing to share your past with him. He's patient. He'll wait forever for you to tell him, even if you never want to, which is fine too. You'll make enough new memories together to replace unpleasant, old ones. He promises you that.

Alrightttt... I hope this was alright, Flower Anon, and thank you again for the great request!!<33

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin neuvillette x reader #genshin neuvillette #genshin wriothesley x reader #genshin wriothesley #genshin lyney x reader #genshin lyney #lyney x reader #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin

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just-jordie-things · 2 years ago

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Hi hi, just so yk i absolutely love you.

If you havent already do you think you could do how jjk men would propose to you (or just gojo i dont mind)

thanks :)

yes i need to be wifed up by these men :3

GOJO SATORU

contrary to popular belief, i don't think satoru would go all out with a fancy restaurant and a huge public display. i think the proposal itself is going to be so casually intimate that it throws you totally off guard when he does it. i'm also convinced that he'd surprise himself when he proposes too.

with both of you having a free night (a rarity!) he'd suggested that you order takeout, sit on the couch in your pajamas, and watch the soapy drama you liked that he had also gotten hooked on.

while he goes to pick up the food, you're at home making the living room the coziest place in the house. he'd only tasked you with grabbing your favorite blankets for the sofa, but you thought it'd be nice to throw up some fairy lights rather than use the too-bright living room lamp. it wasn't much extra work, but it definitely added to the atmosphere.

so when you're boyfriend returned home with your food, he was quite surprised at the romantic, cozy setting you'd created for you two. and maybe it was the dim twinkling of your beloved fairy lights, but there was just something about you that made you glow. and the little box that had carried around for two months now never felt heavier in his pocket.

your back was turned as you washed your hands, babbling on that it was always a special occasion when you both had a night off, and what better to make it special than some string lights and a bottle of wine, and satoru could barely focus on a thing you were saying, too focused on the velvet box in his hand and how he just had to stop carrying it around.

when you turn around to find him on one knee and a twinkling diamond outstretched towards you, there's a squeal of excitement that gets caught in your throat as your shock chokes you up instantly.

"that's- that's a ring? that's an engagement ring? for getting engaged? you want to be engaged? you want to marry me?"

you're speaking so fast that you're stammering, and satoru can't help but laugh a little at your total state of surprise.

"you gotta let me ask, sweetheart-"

"yes!" you've leapt into his arms, almost sending him to the floor at the sudden impact. "yes! yes! yes!"

satoru blinks, holding tight to the small box in his hand, afraid that your erratic movements might knock it out of his hold. although he can't complain as you shower his face in kisses, strawberry lipgloss smearing everywhere you can reach.

"i don't know what people are talking about," he teases as he finally presents you with the ring, sliding it perfectly over your finger. "that was easy"

for the rest of the night, your attention is caught between him, and the sparkling jewelry sitting on your finger. ___

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi, sweet, romantic, adorable megumi, is a fucking disaster.

if he'd had it his way, he would have proposed to you months ago. but it had taken him far too long to settle on a ring (none of them were good enough for you!!) and then of course he had to have a whole plan for the actual proposal. and again, he ran into the same problem. nothing seemed good enough.

where would he even do it? your favorite restaurant that you two frequented so often the staff knew your orders? in the comfort of your home during a quiet moment? the beach at sunset? should he order a pair of doves to release at the exact moment he dropped to one knee?

safe to say, megumi is overthinking the hell out of it. even though he had the ring and knew in his heart he wanted to marry you, and that's what really mattered, he just wanted it all to be perfect for you. he wanted you to be so swept away by it all that you'd remember it forever as a picture perfect memory. he wanted to portray every ounce of love he had for you in this one moment, so you'd never forget how he felt.

noticing that megumi had been on edge for a few weeks now, when a nice night came along and you both had the evening free, you asked him to take a walk with you. megumi wants to stay home and work on the massive speech he was preparing for you, but he's practically incapable of saying no to you, so that's how he finds himself walking hand in hand with you under the stars.

it's a surprisingly warm fall night in Tokyo, with just enough of a breeze here and there to tousle your hair around your shoulders. you both comment you're not sure when the weather had been more perfect.

you're looking at the stars and talking about your days, complaining just a little about an assignment he had coming up that would take him overseas for a few weeks, but megumi tells you he doesn't want to dwell on the future too much, and instead focus on the present.

you giggle.

"i can't help but think of the future when it comes to you," you're teasing, but the words are so sweet that megumi's heart melts a little. "is it so bad i want us to be together all the time?" you stick your tongue out at him playfully.

he squeezes your hand.

"careful what you wish for" he half-jokes back.

again, you laugh, and when he looks at you, there's a warm smile on our lips and a sparkle in your eyes that makes him forget about the cloudless night. staring at you still made his face feel warm, even after all this time together.

"i wish on every shooting star that i can spend forever with you," you tell him, dropping your teasing tone for a softer one.

megumi's heart is officially melted into mush, victim again to your ruthless loveliness.

"you're my favorite person in the whole world," you continue, your smile only brightening when you see a blush rise to his cheeks. "I love you, 'gumi"

he stops walking, and you show no irritation or confusion as he stands before you, staring at you with nothing but adoration.

"you really mean that?" he asks, his voice more of a mumble than he means to be, but with his heart coming back to life and pounding in his ears, it's hard to speak clearly.

"of course" your voice is nothing but genuine, punctuated with an affirming, curt nod of your head.

you effectively make him throw every plan in his mind out the window, and he's speaking before he can even realize this.

"marry me"

his voice is still a whisper, but it's clear nonetheless.

your smile drops as your lips part, and your eyes rounding, unblinking in your surprise.

with his free hand, he reaches into his pocket, and retrieves a black velvet box, only solidifying that he meant what he said.

your eyes travel from the box in his palm, to his again. he chuckles at your frozen features, before pushing the box towards you.

"open it" he murmurs.

as though willed by his command, you reach for it, and flick the top open. there sat the prettiest ring you've ever seen in your life, just your size and just your style. your eyes well with tears, both from the overwhelming happiness and the fact you haven't blinked.

you blink now to will the waterworks to stop from coming.

"what do you think?" megumi asks, his heart thrumming in his chest harder the longer you stand in stunned silence. "forever?"

your lips split into a wide grin, before you lean up to press your lips against his passionately. you're both smiling into the kiss, which makes it a little messy, but you're holding onto each other so tightly and your hearts are beating in sync that it's the most beautiful kiss you've ever shared.

when you finally part, your tears have slipped down your cheeks. megumi wipes them away before helping you try the ring on.

"i love it," you admire how perfect the jewelry sat on your finger. "i love you"

"i love you too, favorite person" he hums, kissing the crown of your head as you're still distracted by the ring.

"i'll have to think of a new wish now" you tell him as your hands intertwine again and you continue your walk.

"i'll make that one come true, too" he winks at you, sending the both of you into a giggling fit. ___

OKKOTSU YUUTA

yuuta had thought about proposing for a long time. he's known he's wanted to marry you since pretty early on in your relationship actually, he's a total romantic like that, but your lives are pretty chaotic so he holds it in and makes himself wait until the timing is right.

even still, it's not exactly a huge ordeal.

you were both lounging, reading your books in near silence together, but it was comfortable. at some point you went from sitting on the couch beside him to laying in his lap, propping your book above your face. he'd been more than happy to be a little more cuddly, his fingers playing with your hair while he continued to read.

but it didn't take long for him to get distracted, until he completely forgot about the book in his hand and was just staring down at you while you read.

yuuta liked watching you read, he even asked you to read to him sometimes. you always seemed the most at peace, your features soft until something exciting happened in the plot. he could almost guess what was happening in your story depending on your face. if something romantic or steamy happened you would blush, if there was a betrayal or major character death your mouth would hang open and our eyes would flit across the page a little faster, and if your favorite pairing had a tragic ending, you'd always be teary eyed. yuuta thought you were just so pretty when you were lost in a book.

he's not sure how long he'd sat there staring at you without you noticing, but you'd turned the page a few times now, too immersed to even feel his gaze.

maybe he shouldn't have sprung such a question on you out of seemingly nowhere, but he couldn't help himself. you were so pretty, and so comfortable with him, that he could pass away and float off into the sky right here. so he speaks his mind freely.

"i want to marry you"

it comes out in a dreamy sigh, and you think he's just being a softie and messing with you, so you giggle, not even looking away from the page you were on.

"sure you do, sweetheart," you murmur, shaking your head just a little. "you just bein' sweet to me because your leg's fallen' asleep?" you ask in a hum.

"no, i mean it," yuuta declares. "i want to marry you. i want to get married to you," he clarifies as if he wasn't already perfectly clear, but you obviously think he's playing a joke on you.

finally, you drop your book, holding it to your chest as you stare at him, studying his features just to be sure he's genuine.

"i want to move in together and decorate our place together and be together all the time," he continues, the lovesickness in his heart reaching his brain and making it all hazy with adoration as he stares at you. "i want to plan a wedding together and invite all our friends and your family and i want everyone to see us get married, and we'll have a huge party after and we can dance together all night. and then when it's over we can go back to our own place, together, and i'll be your husband and you'll be my wife"

your cheeks are gaining more color with every word he speaks. it's more romantic than any book, or any piece of poetry you've ever read.

"okay" you whisper.

"okay?"

"okay," you repeat, nodding your head as you move to sit up, just enough to bring your face to his. "i'll marry you"

his soft smile is replaced with a face splitting grin, excitement flooding through him in an instant.

"really?" he asks, cupping your face in his hands as his eyes flicker between yours eagerly. you laugh, nodding your head.

"yeah, really" you tell him, and you've barely finished speaking before he's slamming his lips to yours triumphantly.

your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself, because your heart was doing somersaults and the sensation was bound to make you dizzy.

yuuta's hands slide around your jaw when you pull away, his eyes half lidded as he admires every pretty feature of your face. he's so overcome with his love for you that he's ready to plan the wedding now.

"i'm thinking fall" he hums.

you hum in return.

"i think you better get me a ring first, lover boy" ___

INUMAKI TOGE

he says 'mustard leaf?' and you just know what he means. jk. but that would be funny, right?

toge actually spent a long time taking advice from his friends to find just the right way to propose to you. in a perfect world, he'd give you a long winded speech about how you light up his life with your angelic glow, but it's a little hard to translate that to onigiri ingredients, so he'll have to improvise.

panda suggests hiring a sky writer, but it turns out those are expensive. also maki had said that idea was corny and lame.

yuuta said that he should dim the lights, light some candles, play some soft music, and pop the question with some rose petals spelled out on the bed. toge liked this idea too, it was romantic and sensual, but again, maki had said this was lame.

gojo said he didn't even need words, and that he should take you to a fancy restaurant, and after dessert, make a whole display of getting on one knee. he'd claimed the action alone was enough to make his intentions clear, and you and everyone around you would know what was happening. toge thought that wasn't a bad idea either, it wasn't often that you two went on classier dates, so it would be special. once more, maki shot it down with a scoff, saying public proposals were tacky and annoying to those around them.

at this point, toge was annoyed and frustrated. every time he thought he'd found the right way to do it, she would shoot the idea down and tell him was terrible, and he was tired of hearing all the negativity without her actually telling him what he should do.

it's not until they've wrapped up an assignment together that he makes his irritation with her clear.

"you're upset that i don't want you to give (y/n) a shitty proposal?" she asks, raising a brow.

toge's frowning as he nods curtly at her. maki chuckles to herself.

"ikura" he curses under his breath. it does nothing to faze her.

"it's not that i don't want you to propose. i do. i know she'll say yes, you're soulmates," maki tells him the first nice thing he's heard her say in regards to his plan. "but you have to do it your way, dummy," she flicks his forehead to solidify her point. "it's gotta come from you. that's all that really matters, isn't it?"

oh, he thinks, finally realizing what she'd been trying to convey all this time.

"so, you know, just do what's right" she shrugs.

they're picked up at the airport by panda and yuuta, and of course, you. panda shows off the cool pikachu balloon he'd brought just for fun, and while maki's telling him that you're adults now and he really doesn't have to bring a balloon for every mission you all return from, you're jumping into your boyfriend's open arms and hugging him tightly.

"i missed you so much!" you tell him, followed by a sweet kiss once you pull away from the hug.

"salmon" the markings around toge's mouth are stretched out as he smiles back at you.

"how was it anyways? easy, huh?" you glance over him quickly to make note of any possible injury, but you don't find anything, and toge laughs to himself at your little routine every time he comes home from an assignment.

he places his hands on your shoulders, making you take a step back before he reaches into his pocket.

"a souvenir?" you grin when he produces a little box.

the black velvet makes you raise a brow. jewelry wasn't usually your thing, so it wasn't common for him to gift it to you.

the rest of your friends are standing around you with dropped jaws and pale faces. here? now? this is when he decides to pop the most important question in any relationship? was he for real?

"jewelry?" you asked, not picking up on the implication of the small size of the square box at all.

but then again, how could you? the guy is proposing to you in an airport, and it's not like he has words to help him.

toge nods, grinning ear to ear, and then reaches over to open the box to show you the sizable ring he'd picked out. your curious expression dropped to shock once you saw the diamond ring, finally getting what this was about.

"oh my god" yuuta mumbles, before smacking a hand over his mouth to keep any other commentary from coming out.

panda is hiding his face behind his paws, afraid that the lack of romantic display would cause you to awkwardly laugh and turn him down. he shifts around to peek through his fur so he could still see, though.

and maki is stunned frozen, just as you are right now, too curious to know what happens next to look away.

toge smiles at you, his free hand reaching forward and cupping your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. his lavender eyes are crinkled at their corners, before he leans forward to gently tap his forehead against yours.

there was more love in one soft gesture than he could have ever conveyed in words, you think. tears prick in your eyes as you stare back at him with your lips parted.

"i love you too," you murmur, your own hand resting over his, pressing your cheek further into the warmth of his palm. "of course i'll marry you"

your friends all sigh in relief before cheering for the both of you. yeah, they'd all been holding their breaths, but they really shouldn't have doubted toge, because you never have and you never will.

you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him happily, and when you pull away you're bouncing as you tell him to, "put the ring on me put the ring on me!"

you're huddled around with your friends, tucked into toge's side as you show off the ring he picked out, even though they'd already seen it because he'd dragged them with him when he was shopping for it. but it's worth it to see you excitedly show it off.

maki supposed the advice she'd given was perfect after all, even if toge took it in a pretty literal and immediate way. ___

not me getting butterflies writing these hehe

xoxo ~ jordie

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calisources · 1 year ago

Text

THE ROYAL TREATMENT. all sentences are either taken from fantasy or fictional and historical novels about kings, queens, royal blood and some sparked romance and magic. change all pronouns and names, locations as you see fit.

“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”

“She was a ray of sunshine, a warm summer rain, a bright fire on a cold winter’s day, and now she could be dead because she had tried to save the man she loved.”

“He was a man known for the violence of his temper as well as the deliciousness of his touch.”

“Am I making you nervous, Natalie?”

“Sad it is, the fate of kings.”

“Go to this masquerade ball with your new friends, put on a pretty gown, and dance the night away.”

“Repentance is like a royal cheer.”

“Even the small joys are worth cherishing, and they will lead to greater ones.”

“when you become king shall find many difficult tasks and you shall have to hurt others and yourself.”

“The throne brings trouble and grief along with the glory.”

“Anger is a feeling afforded only by royal blood. Ordinary people ask for mercy in such situations.”

“True leadership is serving others; follow Queen Elizabeth's noble example.”

“Success isn't wealth or status; impact matters.”

“The power of empowerment can change the world, one person at a time.”

“Leadership is service, not a throne to seize.”

“I have in sincerity pledged myself to your service, as so many of you are pledged to mine.”

“Proper training is key, it allows one to accomplish a great deal."

“Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky."

“Royalty comes with a cost. My great-great-grandfather was one, and he left me no royalty but loyalty to empower people.”

“At all times an empire is more important than emperor and empress, prince and princess.”

“You might have to ask yourself, however right your claim is, if you are the leader the realm needs and wants.”

“You’re Royal. Get used to it and that involves a lot of burdens and things you don’t want to do.”

“I’m in awe of you, Rowan Palotay.”

“Slow down there, princess. How do you know what kind of first impression you gave me?”

“Prayer is a royal power.”

“You forget yourself and who you are speaking of.”

“Anyone young, famous and beautiful who dies young is forever frozen in time and fascinating to all of us.”

“Youths are the life blood of any nation.”

“I am not yet come of age, my lord. How can I be queen?”

“To crown her is to kill her.”

“He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.”

“Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.”

“I believe we are what we make ourselves, and as such, you, Crown Princess, are nothing.”

“Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.”

“There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.”

“We kings do develop a certain ability to recognize objects under our noses.”

“...alone is such a nebulous state when one is queen.”

“I respect you as my king, and I respect you as my father, but I do not respect you as a man!”

“She was made to be a queen, just like her mother.”

Protect Myrcella with your life. Defend her... and her rights. Set a crown upon her head.“”

“You’re my princess, right? You were always going to be my princess, no matter what you were born.”

“For dogs we kings should have lions, and for cats, tigers. The great benefits a crown.”

“This marriage had resulted from impulse.”

“The king is a saint and cannot rule, and his son is a devil and should not.”

“One does not ask if one likes the Blood Royal. They simply are. It is like asking if one likes the Gods.”

“You are a king worthy of their allegiance . . . with a queen full of fire and promise.”

“The idea that how you are born or the name you are given dictate the sort of person you really are.”

“You seem to think that you can still turn back, but it’s too late. You’ll have to face it, Princess. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon enough. And you can’t be this scared when the time comes.”

“Was it worse, she wondered, to be wanted dead or wanted Queen?”

“My royal status is both a shield that protects me and a sword that impales my heart.”

“Respect shouldn't be hereditary; it must be earned.”

“You know, for a pampered princess, you have a certain gift for violence.”

“There is nothing sharper than a well mannered princess’ words.Their true meaning are a mystery.”

“People are born great but yet need to grow into greatness”

“Kings needn’t raise their voices to be heard.”

“She was their witch queen, and they adored her.”

“To be fair, I don't quite see any difference between an assassin and a knight. They both kill people, only one "in the name of Honour '' and the other is just a "monster"

“Crowns belong to those that serve.”

“I have the softness and meekness of a daughter but I also have the boldness and Braveheart of a Son.”

“Will you visit my chambers tonight?”

“A throne won in blood will soon be drenched in it.”

“Even when she's dethroned by hardship, she still wears the sun as a crown.”

“The Princess knew in her heart she is strong, smart, and capable because it is in her blood.”

“There is the matter of succession that has to be settled. You don’t start a reign without settling how it continues.”

“My reign has been anything but traditional. Let’s not start now, shall we?”

“Every girl thinks about growing up in a palace. Few ever ponder living in a cage.”

“Often blessings and burdens comes hand in hand. The bigger the Crown the heavier the burden”

“If stubborness were all that was needed to be a good queen, I'd rule the world.”

“Some girls have a frightening killer instinct. Don't let the ball gowns fool you.”

“You don't turn your back on your destiny.”

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt

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starlost-mochi-x · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! I love everything you’re writing so I wanted to say that 😅. Also (if you can’t and I am not bothering) I was thinking if you could have written something with Felix when the reader gets bullied (it doesn’t have to be physically) because I am kinda experiencing it and…. I wanted comfort? Hahaha it sounds strange but yeah….. thank you so much 😘

hello lovely anon <3 i'm so sorry to hear you're being bullied, i've been there too and it hurts a lot . i hope this helps a little, and my dms are always open if you need someone to talk to ! you are loved !

always forever - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: felix comforts you when he finds out you've been getting bullied

genre: fluff, idol! au, very angsty, reader is bullied, mentions of injury, mentions of blood and scrapes (not descriptive), lots of crying, sad shit overall, hurt to comfort

a/n: if you're being bullied, please reach out . take care of yourself lovelies 🫶

You hurry down the paved pathway, slipping between the throngs of pedestrians on the sidewalk. Mumbling a half-hearted 'sorry' to an older woman who you'd accidentally bumped, you push past the park gates and find yourself wandering the paved path through the grass.

There aren't many people around, since it's a weekday afternoon, and you're glad of it. Your tie blows in the light, summery breeze as you hurry down a widened path, the trees expertly twined together and grown over time to form a giant, leafy archway. The lush, green canopy provides a welcome shelter from the afternoon heat, and you stumble as you pass a patch of dappled sunlight that's filtering through the leaves.

You land with a solid ugh onto the pebbly pavement, the side of your head knocking a little against the ground. You wheeze, the air leaving your lungs in a low, instant huff. It hurts so bad you instantly roll onto your side. There's nothing more you want to do than curl up, lie here, and cry, but the small, sensible voice in your head tells you to stand up and find somewhere to sit.

Groaning, you heave yourself to your feet and collapse onto the nearest bench. The tears fill your eyes then and you heave, doubling over, the impact from hitting the ground, the terrible course of the day, and your general state of dishevel rushing up on you in a dizzying wave of nausea and overwhelm.

You cry.

☆☆☆

Gentle footsteps crunch against the pebbled pavement, and you feel a presence move to sit quietly beside you. Your have your knees tucked up to your chest, your head buried between them, so you have no clue who it is.

A faint scent of vanilla fans over you with the soft breeze and you feel a warm, calloused fingertip gently poke the side of your head.

You sniff. "Go away, Felix."

Felix sighs and leans his head on yours, careful not to put too much pressure on you. One hand moves to place itself on top of yours, the deep, velvety tone of his voice penetrating the walls you've built up around yourself.

"Y/n, lift your head."

"No."

"Please?"

You sigh and lift your head at his pleading request, which feels like it's made of lead, and look at him. Your eyes are red-rimmed and watery, hot tears spilling down your cheeks like little rivers of flames. Felix sighs softly and puts an arm around your hunched figure, pulling you into him gently. His warmth envelops you and it's the safest you've felt all day.

"What happened?" he says quietly so as not to scare you. "I was walking back from the shop and I saw you dashing the other way crying."

You sniff, your voice cracked and pitched in distress. "They hate me, Felix. I don't know why, it's just every time they see me, I walk away feeling like shit. They hate me and it's making me hate myself, I feel like I don't even matter-"

Felix's eyes widen and his hold on you tightens, secure and stable around your shaking figure. He lets you sob into him, and by the time you lift your head, the juncture of his neck is soaked with tears.

"Y/n," he says softly. "They're just insecure about themselves. They hate themselves so they want to make everyone else feel the same way. Don't let them."

You cry softly. "I feel so worthless, Lix..."

"You're not worthless, Y/n. You're pretty and smart and creative and stunning and the funniest person I know. I'm constantly checking my phone to see if you've texted me, and every time the door to the studio opens, I hope that it's you.

Hyunjin-hyung and Changbin-hyung tease me all the time because I talk about you so much. The boys love you, so, so much. I do too, and I need you to understand that whatever those bullies say, it's not true. You're worth everything, and I'll be here every second to remind you in case you forget."

You drop your head into his shoulder again and he cradles it close, the warmth of his hand easing the throbbing pain in your temples. You emit a weak, watery, muffled thankyou into his now-soaked shirt and he affectionately kisses the crown of your head. Cupping your face, he looks at your face, seemingly searching.

"You're hurt," he carefully brushes a thumb across your cheekbone, a slight sting following. You probably scraped it when you fell earlier. Felix retracts his hand, his thumb stained lightly with blood. You turn your hands over. The heels of your palms are in the same condition.

Felix tuts softly, stroking the inside of each wrist. "Do you wanna come back to the studio with me? Chan, Hyunjin, and Han will most likely still be there, but there's a big first aid kit in the cupboard, and Chan-hyung might be able to help fix you up."

"I don't want to burden-"

"You're not being a burden," Felix cups your face firmly. "You'll never be a burden to me. Just keep fighting and let me help. Let us help. You don't have to keep doing it alone."

You nod, and move to stand up. Your knees protest in the form of a stinging, searing pain, the scrapes disturbed. You wince and flop back onto the bench, groaning. It's replaced by a yelp as Felix hoists you effortlessly into his arms, bridal-style. Your hands lock around his shoulders and he grins.

"Let's go."

Despite the situation, a question nags at your conscience. "Lix, weren't you supposed to be at dance practice at this time? How come you were out."

Felix begins walking, a cheeky smile making its way onto his freckled face. "I snuck out because Hyunjin wouldn't stop nagging me. Besides, I wanted food from that really good ramen restaurant down the street."

You cover your mouth with a scraped hand. "The rest of the boys are never going to let this go once they find out."

Felix winces. "Oh well. I snuck out for a snack and came back with a Y/n, so I don't think they'll mind-"

You squeal and swat his chest. Felix laughs and continues carrying you down the path.

"Felix?"

He responds with a hum, still smiling softly.

"Thankyou for helping me."

Felix chuckles lightly. The arm that's cupping your shoulders squeezes gently, sending heatwaves flooding into your veins.

"Always and forever, okay?"

a/n: my heart hurts

#felix #lee felix #starlost mochi #starlost mochi fics #skz felix #stray kids fluff #felix fluff #felix scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids #skz angst #felix angst #lee felix angst

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batsycline69 · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter Four: Darker Than Death

Summary: Jason chases the past and sets fire to the future

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Words: 6,274

Content/warnings: angst, descriptions of injuries, Jason's self-destructive tendencies

SERIES MASTERPOST | PREV

Four months pass like lightning streaking the sky. Suddenly, you’re a staple in Jason’s life.

Soft kisses on biceps in the middle of the night. Mornings spent eating breakfast over your small kitchen table. Lunches in his station at the shop. The scowl on your face when Jason pulls out a dictionary to prove the word he played in Scrabble is real.

He didn’t think he could be happy again. After everything—the things he’d seen; the things he’d felt—it didn’t seem possible.

You gave him back something he thought he’d lost forever. You’re hope and future. Something to fuck up. Something to lose.

Jason knows what he looks like to the people on the street. It’s hard not to when he’s jarred by himself in the mirror sometimes. A big, brooding mass of man when once he was just a boy. He didn’t get a say in his dip in the Lazarus Pit, but the skin is still his own, adorned with in he chose and scars that he earned.

But no amount of ink nor callous nor scowling can actually protect him from the wounds that still have never healed. His never ending anger got the better of him today. A close call with Batman and Nightwing left him feeling bolder than ever. He went to visit the Joker.

Beating the Joker bloody with a crowbar didn’t have the cathartic impact he’d been hoping it would. The sight just made his stomach churn. He buried the flurry inside of him as he tied the Joker up, leaving him to sit in a closet for a few days. Until it’s time to bring him into play.

The rising sickness, cold and burning all at once, doesn’t go away. Distance doesn’t help. He still feels trapped there even when he’d been the one in control.

He doesn’t remember going to his apartment and changing. When he comes back to himself at your doorstep, he isn’t Red Hood. Just a boy in a soaked t-shirt shivering in the rain.

The door to your apartment building is inches away from his face. His hand is on the doorknob. It’s locked; he realizes now that’s what pulled him out of his head.

Rain falls down around him. It lands heavily on the shoulders of his jacket. The sound hammers on rooftops, onto the rusted cars parked out in front of your building. It splashes on the already soaked sidewalk, rushing into the sewers Jason knew so well. It’s always fucking raining. He would hate this city if he didn’t love it so much. If this city wasn’t in his blood just as much as Sheila’s.

Tears slick his face. That feeling in his stomach is still there, and he feels like he’s buried beneath earth all over again. The world is pressing down against him. He can hardly breathe.

His feet carry him to the back door of the building. The memory of picking the lock open is shoved into a corner at the very back of his mind. Safe memories fail to see the light of day now, yet he seeks safety just by being here. He needs you, though he hasn’t yet fully put it together yet.

Jason fiddles with the lock with less grace than usual. His hands tremble as he works, but even filled with tears, he’s focused. Maybe a little more so than necessary. He’s overly aware of the weight of his gun. Just as aware as he is he shouldn’t have brought it here. His mind is such a mess. What if he hurt you?

Part of him itches to turn back. The laughter echoing in his ears pushes him forward.

The wood floors creak beneath his feet as he moves through the otherwise silent halls. He pauses in front of your door. His nails bite into the palm of his fisted hands, trying to find the bravery to knock.

Bravery.

Once upon a time ago, he ran across the rooftops of this city fighting goons twice his size, reassured by his mentor, a less than perfect man who demanded perfection. He thought his bravery made him untouchable.

So much for that.

He knocks. You don’t answer.

It’s 3 AM; of course you’re going to be asleep.

He should have never come here. He hasn’t even thought about what he would say when you ask why he’s such a wreck. Just like anything real in his life, it’s not like he can tell you the truth. You wouldn’t know what to do with the truth; he kidnapped the guy who killed him back when he was just a little robin. His mind feels too syrupy to come up with a good lie.

He realizes with sudden clarity he never should have gotten this close to you. Sure, he’s been planning his takeover of Gotham’s underground for years, but plans go sideways. What if the Joker gets out and finds out a connection between Red Hood and you? He can’t even stomach the thought of you with a single scratch on you, let alone in the sort of condition Joker would leave you in.

The lock clicks on your door.

Undoubtedly, you’d spotted him through your peephole standing there. When the door opens, your tired eyes are swimming with concern.

“Jason? Is everything okay?” Your voice is thick with sleep as you blink him into focus.

He feels terrible. He wants to say he’s drunk. Tell you he wasn’t thinking. Free you of his bullshit. Instead, he sniffles pathetically.

The door creaks softly as you hold it open more. You’re a lifeline for him now, the one thing that’s keeping him from sinking back into that bottomless grave, and he pulls you against him. His grip is tighter than it probably should be, but if you have a problem with it, you don’t say.

You hold him like something precious.

He hates himself.

“Come on. Come inside.” Your voice is soft as you gently usher him in. “You’re soaked.”

Streetlight from outside diffuses through the raindrops on your window. It’s the only light offered in your darkened apartment.

He stands in the doorway of your bedroom, watching you rummage around the clothes piled on top of the old floral wingback chair in the corner. You pull out one of Jason’s t-shirts, the material washed and worn until the fabric was soft.

Cotton clings to his skin as he peels his shirt off.

He hears a soft gasp as his vision is obscured.

“What happened to you?” you ask, horror cutting through your exhaustion like a knife.

Bruises—fresh ones—scatter across his skin. He hasn’t seen them yet, but he feels them there. Normally, he’s pretty good. Keeping his clothes on when he knows there’s damning evidence. The less he has to explain, the fewer lies he has to keep track of. Tonight isn’t a normal night. His head is barely on straight.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, trying to keep his voice even. He tugs the shirt down, obscuring whatever injuries you see.

“What do you mean, don’t worry about it? Did someone hurt you?”

God, you’re so sweet. You care about him, and you really shouldn’t. Right now, there’s a fire in your voice; you’d go up to bat for him against anyone. All the more reason to keep you out of the line of fire.

“It’s nothing,” he snaps.

“The hell it is. Jason, what is going on?” Your voice is demanding as you take another step closer. Your reach out to touch him, but you stop as if you would hurt him. You are afraid to hurt him.

He huffs and goes out to your living room, his large frame hunching in on itself as he falls into your couch. His head hangs for a minute before he looks around. He’s always found your apartment peaceful. Blankets tossed over the arm of your threadbare secondhand couch. Bookshelves stuffed with crumbling paperbacks. Feels more like a home than his place ever has, but it’s still no home of his.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you,” he sniffles.

You follow him out, pausing a few feet away from him. “We don’t have to cover everything tonight.”

The certainty in your voice is too brilliant, too forgiving; some things feel like they can never be spoken about. Should never be allowed to see the light of day.

“I dug up a lot of past today.”

He hopes you never understand him because that means you understand how it feels to die. What it means to come back from that. And what worse fate could he curse someone to? He never wants that cold to find you in the middle of the night and shock you awake just to confirm your heart is still beating.

“What do you need?”

The couch dips as you sit beside him. His arm winds over your shoulders, pulling you to his chest so he can feel the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe. “Just this,” he says.

So you stay that way. He cries, and he thinks about how he shouldn’t be doing this to you. He feels better because you’re here. No matter how hard he tries not to, he can’t stop thinking about how fucked up it is that he gets to feel better while making everything worse for you. He’s going to ruin your life, and he hasn’t even given you the opportunity to know that.

A few more minutes pass. Your apartment is silent apart from his sniffles, but those, too, die down eventually. Just the rain remains, pattering against the glass.

“Shouldn’t have woken you up,” he says when he’s finally composed himself. There’s a resolution in his voice that had been lacking before. He hopes you don’t ask how he managed to make it to your door.

You shake of your head pull away from him to look into his eyes. “Don’t say that. You didn’t want to be alone. That’s a good enough reason to wake me up.” Your voice is just as firm.

Doubt crosses Jason’s face. You wouldn’t be saying any of this if he wasn’t selfishly withholding the truth from you. You’d already met Red Hood, and you didn’t want him inside of your apartment. He shouldn’t be here, and he knows it. He has no right to wake you up when you’re safe and asleep in your bed. He doesn’t deserve to seek your comfort just because he can’t face his ghosts.

Your palms are warm as you gently hold his face. The pad of your thumb wipes off his tears. “I care about you,” you say. “You aren’t burdening me by letting me help you.”

For one single second, it crosses his mind to open up. You’d think he would have totally lost it, but he could open up. At this point, it almost feels as if it doesn’t matter; he’s decided this won’t be able to last.

Even now, you know very little about him. Neither of you have put a label on what you have, but there’s a bind between of you. You’ve become a feature in his life, as often as he can allow such a thing. He’s gotten comfortable with your presence, and comfort can always be taken away from him. There’s benefit in staying unattached.

He laughs bitterly. “I don’t wanting you biting off more than you can chew, sweetheart,” he says. His thick fingers wrap around your wrist, keeping your hand against his cheek.

Your lips quirk up into a weak smile, but your visible concern doesn’t wane. “I’m pretty tough,” you reply.

Jason turns his head and presses his lips into the palm of your hand. “I know you are.”

But tough isn’t always enough against the people who come after him. Not even when you sign up for it. And you sure as shit didn’t sign up for this.

Most days, you make him feel like he’s soaring. When he takes you out on the bike—Gotham blurring around both of you as your chest presses into his back—he sometimes feels like he’s too giddy to drive.

That feeling, he thinks it’s love, but he can’t accept that. He’s been telling himself he doesn’t need love. He doesn’t need family. But he can’t convince himself he doesn’t need you right now.

One day, Batman is going to catch up to Red Hood. Jason is planning on as much. But if that plan somehow backfires, he could lead Batman right to you. He can’t curse you to a fate where your path intersects with Bruce Wayne. Jason doesn’t want your life any more tainted than he’s already made it.

He can handle losing you if he’s the one that calls it quits. He can handle losing you if you hate him over whatever lies he has to tell to make you slam the door in his face. But he can’t handle losing you over the truth, especially if it’s Bruce’s version of the truth. The very idea of you siding with Bruce in all of this makes his skin crawl.

“I care about you, too, you know,” he finally says. He looks at you in your pajamas, the softness of sleep still etched onto your features. His voice feels to gruff to be speaking to you. He takes your hand between both of his, lowering it down into his lap. He doesn’t want you to hear the finality in his voice.

You smile, though your face is sad. “I know.”

“Why’re you so nice to me?” he asks. You were supposed to just be some client. He was supposed to tattoo a dead bird onto your arm and say goodbye. He did everything right; he was a detached asshole. And yet, something about you broke him open, like playing the right notes on the piano to get into the Batcave.

Like a soft breeze, your laugh brushes across his lips. You’re close to him now.

“Didn’t we just establish that?” you ask, looking up at him with an even softer expression than before.

“I’m serious,” Jason says. “Why did you even bother giving me a chance?”

What makes me worth saving?

There’s a beat of silence. Your eyes study his. He doesn’t doubt you can see the tears still lingering, threatening to spill at the first kind thing you have to say to him.

“I mean, you were a dick for a little bit, but I could tell you felt bad about it.” You look him over carefully, your lips still tugged into that meager smile. “I don’t think you’re as bad as you think you are.”

He sighs and hangs his head. His grip on your hands loosens, like he’s offering you freedom. “You’re giving me too much credit,” he says. His voice rumbles up from his chest. He has to speak quietly or else he’d be yelling. All he can imagine is the Joker getting his hands on you. The thought alone makes him feel so sick he can’t stand to look at you.

As hard as he tries to stay with the kindness in your eyes, his mind starts to wander.

The floor had been so cold; he remembers it now. He acts like he’s not afraid of dying—maybe he isn’t—but he remembers how it feels to die. He remembers how dark it is. How bitter. Laughter rings in his ears. Blood in his mouth, bile stinging at his throat. There was nothing peaceful about it. Nothing peaceful about choking on his own blood. There was no ‘slipping off’; there was only a flash, the rush of heat, a deafening blast, and the screams of the mother who had sold him out.

“Why would I stick around this long if you weren’t worth it?” you ask.

“It doesn’t count when you’re used to fucked up relationships.” He breathes a bitter laugh like it doesn’t feel like acid. Like it’s effortless to put you down. If you believe it is, maybe you’ll ask him to leave.

He’s good at this, sabotaging relationships. Even though he thinks the world of you, he can summon up the words to make you question everything about the last four months. Doesn’t matter if Jason admires how much cruelty you’ve faced. Doesn’t matter if he finds wonder by the fact you still somehow stayed kind after that. He knows just what to say to plant a seed of doubt that will only continue to fester from here.

There’s a long silence. You’re not looking at him anymore. He wants to take it back, but he knows he can’t. That’s why he said it.

“Why are you trying to push me away right now?” Your voice is soft. He can barely hear it over the rain beating on the pane of glass behind you.

“I’m not pushing you away. That’s just the truth.”

“That’s bullshit,” you say. Your voice is low, but volume does nothing to lessen the severity of the chill. He’s used to your warmth. “You’re not that much of an asshole.”

The deeper he sinks into this character, the more he wants to to run out of the room. He’s ruining the one good thing he’s had since he came back to Gotham. He’s throwing away his one actual shot at happiness.

When he looks at you, he’s looking at a future he’ll never know. Baking cookies just because you mentioned in passing you wanted some. Slipping apology notes underneath your door when he pisses you off so much you won’t respond to his texts. Telling you he loves you; whispering it in your ear when he holds you on bad days. Telling the truth because he could finally fully surrender himself to you.

The truth, Jason likes to imagine, feels like the gentle release everyone likes to describe death as. Peace. A boy blown up isn’t at peace; he’s a poltergeist. But a man who can surrender and accept the death of a life he’d taken up, like a crab molting its shell to find something more comfortable, can rest. If he was brave enough, he could adapt again. Maybe make a life that offered a truce between him and this world.

“Ever consider maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do?” he asks. He buries the thoughts of your warm embrace. So many graves in his mind, all smelling of petrichor and freshly turned earth.

It rained the night he clawed up to the surface of Gotham. He doesn’t remember much about that night—doesn’t remember much before Talia got to him—but he remembers the smell. Dirt was everywhere, until suddenly, he smelled the rain. Drops fell into his parched mouth as he gasped for air.

His eyes squeeze shut, overly aware of the sheets hitting your window. Your silence doesn’t help.

“Please,” you scoff. “Do you think I just conveniently haven’t noticed you dodging topics the past four months? Just because I’m the only one who’s been open about my fucked up past doesn’t mean I’m the only one with it.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know you’ve got more going on then you’re telling me. The fact that you have secrets isn’t a secret to me. You can have things you don’t want to talk about, but don’t show up at my doorstep looking for help and snap at me when I give it to you.”

Jason doesn’t want it to end. He wishes he was just a little bit more selfish so he could will himself to hold onto you. He wishes his path wasn’t paved with blood so he could guarantee your safety.

But he can hold onto you for one more night.

He lays his head down in his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says. It’s not a lie, but tomorrow he’ll tell you it was. His fingers tangle in his hair, and he finally looks up at you. You don’t look happy, that’s for sure, but you don’t hate him.

Tomorrow, he’s going to have to do this for real. Tonight, he just wants you.

Your eyes are fixed on him for a while before you respond. “Thank you for the apology,” you say. “You’re right. You can be a dick sometimes. But I think that shows you how intentionally I choose to be around you,” you say.

If you knew the truth, he imagines you poking fun at him for saying you were the one with fucked up relationships. You’d call him a hypocrite if he ever gave you the chance to.

“Let’s go to bed.” The words are clipped. You don’t look at him. “You’ve had a long day.”

“You’re gonna let me stay?” There’s hope in his voice when there shouldn’t be. You should turn him out, send him back into the rain; he deserves it more than the comfort of your bed.

You give him a look. “People usually say the worst stuff when they need someone the most,” you say. “Something you learn when you’re used to fucked up relationships.” You stand up and offer out your hand for him.

He follows as you lead him into your darkened bedroom. Sheets are rustled and tossed back. His stomach twists at the display of your rush to his aid. There’s so much more out in the world for you, even if he wants to sink into you until there’s no more him left.

Before you, he’d grown comfortable in harshness. The darkness didn’t feel unique because it was everything he had for years. And then there was you.

He’s going to know what life without you is like. But not getting to see you sat at your kitchen table, grinning at him sleepily over a cup of coffee in the morning is better than never seeing you again because someone got their filthy hands on you.

You guide him towards your bed. One last night to lie next to you and share your body heat.

Jason shrugs off his leather jacket. He misses the soft rustling of it hitting the floor; his eyes are fixed to the sight of your skin as you get into bed. The yellowish glow of city light slips in through a crack in your curtains.

The sheets rustle as you climb in. Jason still stands at the bedside for a minute more. You won’t look at him, and he’s glad. Goodbyes he’s not yet ready to say are written all over his face.

After a beat, your eyes do seek him out in the darkness. The sheets are pulled up to your chin, and Jason is trying to remember it all, even if he can tell you’re still upset.

The bed shifts with his weight as he lays down beside you. You face him. He doesn’t look away. He shifts a little closer, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulls you to his chest. If he were a better man, he would apologize right now. A real one. But if he means it too much, you’ll never believe him in the morning. He can’t afford to not be convincing.

Jason holds you. He presses his lips to the crown of your head and shuts his eyes. More than anything, he wishes he could enjoy this moment.

In another life, he wonders if maybe this is how things are all the time with you. He can hold you without worrying about what dangers he’s putting you in. Guilt might not gnaw at him. Jason curses him even if he doesn’t even exist because who else can he blame? Fuck that guy. Fuck his happiness.

You fall asleep in his arms. He feels like he’s taking advantage of your trust by even holding you right now, but he can’t will himself to let you go. He has hours left of this, and he can’t imagine wasting those moments by sleeping on the far side of the bed.

You have a strange dream, the kind that fades from memory the more you try to chase them.

In the shadows of what you remember, you see a red helmet, one like your dangerous friend wears. You found it laying on the ground in an alley. You searched out in the darkness for a face—his face—only to realize you were all alone, standing in a green mist.

Weeks had passed since your masked friend picked the lock to your apartment so you could get inside. Weeks since he’d sat on your fire escape only to never be seen again, but for some reason, he’s visited you in your dreams.

Your dream dissolves, but fresh worry blooms in your chest as you look at the empty spot on the other side of the bed where Jason had been only hours earlier. His words come back to you.

He was grieving something last night. Thinking of the loss in his voice leaves a chalky, bitter taste in your mouth. Instinctively, your hand smooths over the rumpled sheets where he’d been when you fell asleep. They’re cold.

Sunlight spills through the crack in your curtains. A rarity for Gotham. Last night’s downpour has been reduced to puddles in the dips of the sidewalk. You naively choose to believe that maybe this brand new morning has changed things. The finality in the air last night has been swept away like a shadow by the brightness of the day.

Even if it ends up hurting your feelings, you hold onto this hope like a wilting flower. It gets you out of bed.

The smell of something sweet fills the air as you poke your head out of your bedroom. Jason stands at your stove. His broad shoulders curl over a skillet, spatula in hand. Dark curls stick up in every direction. His t-shirt from last night is rumpled with fitful sleep. He looks up from the pan, his eyes straying on you as you approach.

“Smells good,” you say, stepping out.

“I made coffee,” he says, nudging his chin to the percolator on your counter top.

He carries his sleep deprivation well; you’ve heard about the sleepless nights he spent in Europe while he was traveling. You know some nights he stays up late with his friends you’ve never met. They’re a bad influence, he told you once. You asked him if he thought he was a good influence.

You kiss his shoulder as you walk by, your hand ghosting over his tattooed bicep. “Thank you, honey,” you say, still trying to get a handle on the situation. Still clinging to hope that this is a new day.

Except you see Jason tense out of the corner of your eye.

Instantaneously, your mouth goes dry. Today might be a new day, but nothing has changed. There’s still tension in the air. Jason’s mind is elsewhere, and wherever that is, you don’t seem entirely welcome.

Your body feels rigid as you try to pour your coffee, playing pretend like nothing’s wrong.

You like Jason; woozy, youthful joy swells in your chest when he holds you. He keeps you warm from all manner of coldness Gotham offers. Being around him is secure, safe in a way that goes just beyond the fact no one even gives you a second look when you’re next to him.

It feels like the day you met, but far worse. Because being pushed away some tattoo artist is one thing, but that’s not Jason anymore. He’s not just some guy who gave you a tattoo. You’ve spent more nights with him the past month than without him. He came to you sobbing last night because he needed someone, and you answered the call. So what changed?

Cup of coffee in hand, you sit at the small kitchen table pushed up against your wall. You watch him as he cooks; his mossy eyes are always decidedly fixed down.

Your finger traces along the deep divot in the table. Sunlight spills across the scarred wood; you can’t help but feel like you’re being mocked. Miraculous sunlight in Gotham at the moment where the light feels like it’s being sucked out of the room.

A few minutes later, Jason brings a plate of pancakes, a bowl of diced strawberries, and syrup to the table, setting them down in front of you. You’ve always believed Jason makes food in place of the things he’s never told you. You wonder what unspoken words your breakfast is supposed to represent.

“Looks great,” you say. Your forced cheerfulness sounds like exactly that, but Jason doesn’t make any indication that he noticed. He acknowledges you as he takes the seat on the opposite side of your table.

You stare at the plate in front of you, forcing yourself to eat even though your appetite has dissipated. It gives you something to do. Without a task, you’d just sit there, trying to figure out what went wrong.

There’s silence. Sunshine doesn’t fill the void the way Gotham’s rain does. The tension makes the pancakes less sweet. Or at least you imagine it would, but you haven’t actually tasted a single bite.

More than anything, you want to ask about last night.

Jason’s bloodshot eyes, the desperation with which he held you, is stuck to you in a way you don’t know you can brush away. Jason, who keeps himself so well guarded behind the walls he built up, was exposed last night. You saw something in him, something you’d never seen before, and wanted so badly to understand it.

You want to say something, but you don’t know how without maybe making things worse. Don’t want to dig up skeletons any more than he’s admitted he already has.

The truth is you do know so little about Jason’s past. Any number of things could have sent him to your door last night. You’d been so exhausted, you hadn’t even thought to question how he’d gotten inside. You content yourself to thinking he’d followed in after someone.

“I think we should call it,” Jason says. He doesn’t even look up from his untouched food.

You look up from your pancakes, red strawberry juice smeared all along your plate. “Call what?” you ask. You know exactly what he’s saying, but you’re hoping your willful ignorance will maybe somehow change his mind.

“This.”

This. The undefined thing going on between the two of you for the past four months. The thing that has made home feel like home again. Someone who gave a little more sense to the Gotham you’d once known so well that had been destroyed, uprooted, just when your life was.

You feel your jaw muscles tense, your teeth clenching together to try to lessen the emotional blow. It doesn’t work—you knew it wouldn’t—but you figured you would try. “Is this about last night?” you ask.

“No.” His response is quick. If your head wasn’t reeling, you would maybe pick up on how rushed it really was, but you don’t.

You’re silent, waiting for an explanation you know isn’t coming. So you do what you know to do; you grasp at straws, hoping maybe you can fix this. Hoping maybe there’s a problem you can solved that will keep Jason here.

“Okay, then what’s it about?” you ask.

The kitchen chair creaks as Jason leans back. His skin is golden with the light crossing over your table. You see the rosemary and lilies on his arm and think of his work permanently etched into your body.

You will carry a piece of him with you forever, no matter where either of you goes.

“It’s not about anything. This wasn’t supposed to be serious.”

“I deserve more than that.” The words are clipped and harsh. More than you really mean them to be, but you’re still trying to make sense of all of this.

Things had been good. Really good. You laughed with him and relished every time you heard his clandestine laughter in return. He comes over when you’ve had a rough day and are fed up from work. You’ve cried in front of him, and while you’re sure saying he was happy to do it is a stretch, he did it without complaint. There may not have been a label on what you have together, but Jason is right; you don’t feel casual.

You love him.

The realization crawls up your throat like bile, like you might say the words at the absolute wrong time and make everything worse.

“Fine.” He looks up at you, his face hardened in a way you don’t recognize. His eyes are hardened. Not guarded like when he wouldn’t talk to you during your first appointment; they’re cold. He’s never looked at you like that before. “I’m sick of this shit. The monotony. You don’t want to live the same goddamn day over and over again.”

You stiffen. Somewhere a few blocks away, a siren wails. His gaze doesn’t waver. You’ve never wished for him to look away so badly. Under his gaze, you feel trapped. Uneasiness creeps up your spine.

For some reason, your first date comes to mind. You think of Jason at the arcade machine, the way he’d held the plastic gun so steadily.

“So why’d you come here last night then?” You struggle to keep your voice steady, but now feels like the wrong time to show any weakness.

Once, you thought Jason looked at you like a prey animal. In the tattoo shop, when he first came out thirty-five minutes late,he stared you down like he was trying to making sure you weren’t going to run in the direction. But even then, he was studying you more than anything, a habit of his you’d grown to recognize.

This is something else entirely.

“Because I’m a lonely, fucked up guy. Is that what you want to here? The warmth of your bed was better than none at all.”

Anger and agony stir in your chest. Muscles taught, jaw hardened. You can’t even stand to look at him for a minute. “So, what? We’re just done? We’re broken up?”

“We’re not broken up because we were never together,” Jason snaps.

Another silence settles between the two of you, this one charged.

“I guess that makes things more simple,” you reply, your voice low. You feel your face burning. What had you been thinking? You knew from the start he was bad news. You’d known it, and you ignored every sign anyway.

Silence settles between the two of you again. Jason doesn’t look up at you, but you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

God, you should have seen this coming, and yet it still doesn’t make sense. Things were good. Things were working. Until they weren’t. Until you ended up here. Now you’re at a total loss for words.

“Alright,” you say when he doesn’t speak. “Well, thanks for breakfast.” There’s no point in hiding the bitterness in your voice. What do you have to lose, right? He wants nothing to do with you, and you’ve just wasted months of your life stupidly, childishly believing that this was something that could actually work.

Jason doesn’t move right away. His dark brows are knitted close, but it doesn’t quite look like anger. The scar running through the brow makes him look more severe. You can’t imagine what kind of harsh truths he’s withholding. But you can’t look away. You think about running your fingers through his hair. You think about tracing the ink on his skin. You think about how empty your lunchtime will feel now because you’re not going to be swinging by the shop, a bag of takeout in hand.

This whole time, you’d just been a phase to him. Just another passing name he would forget in a month when he meets someone new. Someone better. Someone less acquainted with fucked up relationships, maybe. The point being, they aren’t going to be you.

And why should it matter so much? What’s four months? You barely know each other, right? Besides all of the times he listened to you spill your guts and probably kept waiting anxiously for you to shut up. All the while, you had managed to convince yourself this was actually going to be anything. You were mortified.

“I think your jacket is still in the bedroom,” you add pointedly as he keeps staring at you. Hopefully he’ll get the hint because you don’t think you have it in you to actually tell him to leave.

He stands, the chair sliding against the wooden floors of your apartment. Silently, he walks to the other room. It takes a few minutes for him to come back out. You’re so busy trying to make sense of all of this, you don’t notice.

When he reemerges, jacket in hand, Jason lingers by the front door. His eyes are fixed to the floor before he finally looks up at you.

“Bye,” he says.

Not see you later because he won’t. He doesn’t plan to. He’s done with you.

His eyes linger on you. He looks sad; you’ve gone and made him feel guilty because you thought you had more of a place in your life than you really did.

“Bye,” you say back, your voice rough.

Not it’s been nice knowing you because you can’t bring yourself to say the words. Not I think meeting you changed my life because you don’t have the right to that claim.

Jason doesn’t look back as he closes the door behind him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider giving this a reblog 💛

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason #x reader

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yennas-stuff · 5 months ago

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E/riels say that we deny that Elain feels any attraction towards Azriel and that they are just supporting her in what she wants. That Eluciens don't listen to what she wants.

First of all, all Eluciens notice these interactions between Azriel and Elain. Nobody is denying she likes and probably feels attracted to him as of now. What we are noticing as of now, though, doesn't have to have any baring on the endgame pairing. We are just questioning the sustainability and depth of these feelings when faced with a mating bond and, basically, an immortal life.

To put it in the simplest terms: Does the crush you had in college have any impact on your future relationship with your spouse? Nobody will deny that the previous feelings or attractions were real. But it doesn't change the endgame. Nothing is set in stone (except for the mating bond that stays with you forever).

If you add the inevitable nature of a mating bond and the fact that you can live for hundreds of years... Feels silly to think Elain and Lucien wouldn't even try to explore it.

And about what Elain wants... We don't know it. Her actions only signify some surface level attraction and playfulness. It also really disappoints me when people only see Elain giving Azriel gag gifts as her showing romantic interest in him. It was supposed to show us her true character and her being capable of being fun and playful. But E/riels take it away from her and make this small indication of her personality into something about a man.

When it comes to the whole consent to shipping that a fictional character is supposed to give... It's ridiculous to even discuss it. No Elucien wants Elain to be forced into a relationship. But we do understand her hesitancy. Mating bond is like this ultimate YOU NEED TO TRY THIS. IT'S GOOD FOR YOU sign from the universe that has a very big significance and is sacred to the world she just found herself in. I do notice that she's rebelling against it. And I dont hold it against her. But I believe they will find the way to each other and fall in love despite the mating bond.

My final point to the whole "having a problem with shipping people who are not into each other as of now..." It's an unfinished love story. It's like reading the first half of Pride and Prejudice and saying Elizabeth should be with Mr Wickham because she was into him and she hates Mr. Darcy. The whole enemies to lovers trope is based on getting over prejudices, getting to know each other, and falling in love. It's something that has already happened to the main acotar couples... twice. And Elain and Lucien are not even enemies. They are just strangers tied to each other by forces stronger than them.

#elucien #pro elucien #anti e/riel #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elain

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marysfics · 1 month ago

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Hi lovely readers, writers, other bloggers,

I wanted to take a moment to share something that's been on my mind. Lately, I've seen so many hateful messages sent anonymously to talented writers and bloggers, and it's been really disheartening.

I've had so many thoughts and emotions swirling around after seeing the unkind messages being sent. Even though I don’t have a ton of interactions myself, I feel deeply protective of the other writers and bloggers here. Many of us read their work or follow answered asks, finding joy in what they share. Whether it’s a moment of laughter, excitement, or comfort in someone’s vulnerability, these connections mean something.

Personally, reading someone’s writing or even just their responses to answered asks can really brighten my day. It’s a beautiful reminder of how much we all bring to each other’s lives through our words, even if we're miles apart. Whether we know each other well or not, it doesn’t really matter, that connection is still meaningful. And I think that’s something truly special to cherish about being here.

I doubt the unkind anonymous senders would take the time to read a message like this, or even care about it. But if they do, there are a few things I’d like to say. Maybe they don’t realize the impact their hurtful words can have, or what they can really mean.

As someone who endured a lot of emotional and physical abuse from a parent throughout my childhood until I was 18, I know firsthand how deeply words can wound. Those words weren’t anonymous, they were said face-to-face. And they hurt. That pain stays with me, even now. Therapy has helped, but the scars remain. Some things, no matter how much healing takes place, stay with you forever.

It can take away your sense of control, even when you're trying so hard to hold onto it. It feeds that small voice in your mind that says you’re not good enough, even when those around you keep telling you otherwise. Do you believe them? Is it okay to trust what they’re saying?

After all, the person who hurt you repeated it for so long that part of you wonders if it might be true. Maybe you really aren’t good enough?

I know there are people who wouldn’t agree with this. Those who say you just need to forget and move on. But that’s an unfair judgment because healing isn’t that simple. Everyone processes pain differently, and moving on doesn’t mean the hurt disappears.

In the past few years, I’ve come to realize that much of the bullying and hurtful words from unkind people often stem from their own pain. It’s completely okay to feel hurt by someone or something. However, it’s never okay to take that hurt and project it onto others, whether anonymously or not.

The moral of this message is that when you feel hurt and are tempted to project that pain onto others, I urge you to take a moment to pause and reflect. Asking for help instead of tearing others down can be a profoundly powerful choice in life.

I know I have just reflected, these are my thoughts that I wanted to share. These are my choices of vulnerability that I wanted to share. These are mine, I can understand that no everyone thinks this way. But I wanted to share this because I couldn't hold it in myself anymore.

If you’re feeling hurt, please reach out for help, even if it’s just through a small anonymous ask. That can make a much bigger difference than tearing others down alongside you.

Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts. I truly appreciate it.

I know I’ve just reflected on these thoughts that I have, and I wanted to share them. This is my choice to be vulnerable, and I understand that not everyone may feel the same way. But I felt compelled to express this because I couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

#alexia putellas #woso community #woso #Spotify

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megustacat · 6 months ago

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The MCL:NG Love Interests as the 5 Love Languages

Devon Okere - Words of Affirmation

Devon loves to let you know on every occasion how much he adores you.

When he sees you doing well, he lets you know, always painting pretty word pictures whenever he can.

When he sees you struggling he manages to put your pain in a few words, so the problem suddenly seems manageable.

When he sees you enjoying yourself he makes sure it gets even better.

He has a deep voice and he always knew how much his voice and words had an impact on other people. Whenever he notices that are being stressed, he makes you sit down with him and tells you just how good you are, how hard you work, how much he loves, how wonderful it is being around you, how good it feels to hold you. All in this beautiful, intriguing, deep, deep voice of his.

You didn’t know how much you could enjoy the simplest things, when they are accompanied by a man who knows what you like to hear - and will give it to you whenever he can.

Amanda De Lavienne - Quality Time

Amanda is a woman of efficiency. She is well-structured and organized to get the best out of every single minute.

At times you feel like nothing can be good enough for her - besides you.

The time she spends with you might be one of the only times you have seen her completely unwind and without a hurry.

There is nothing in this world more important than taking her time being around you. Together you love to plan trips, have dedicated one-on-one time just talking about your day and spend days after days cuddled up, enjoying each other's presence. Being around you is a possibility to slow down for her and you cannot imagine anything more beautiful than seeing her lovely smile every time you two get to be together. Looking in her eyes, feeling the peace you two create for each other, knowing that this is going to stay - this right here, this will be forever. Because you will make it last forever.

Jason Mendal - Gifts

As much as Jason loves to be a receiver to whatever he sees reasonable, he first and foremost lives to be a giver.

He loves to gift you beautiful clothes or take you out to expensive dinners. Not only that, but you can also expect a new fresh bouquet of flowers around you, or other little trinkets you can take with you anywhere you go.

Jason wants to gift you memories and reminders to make you think of him - whether he is around you or not.

That satin on your skin? Reminds you of him.

That golden bracelet around your wrist? Reminds you of him.

The lingering taste of expensive champagne, making you love-drunk? Reminds you of him.

The pictures from your latest trip? Remind you of him.

The love bites all over your neck and thighs? Remind you of him.

Gifts and memories, lasting and fading. But always present. Just like him.

Thomas Rheault - Acts of Services

As someone of not many words Thomas lets his actions speak for him.

Before properly getting to know each other Thomas seemed less than eager to do something for you if he wasn’t asked to do so.

That changed.

You notice a hot cup of coffee next to your bed when you wake up and a bag of fresh bread in the kitchen. He has already been up and running. For you.

He is always so thoughtful, observing would you say, what you like, what makes you laugh, turning your words into his actions.

It makes his heart beat faster everytime you thank him for what he does for you - you acknowledging all that makes it worth doing it again. And again. And again. And again …

Roy Aquino - Physical Touch

Roy is an overall very physical man. Not only is movement and keeping himself physically in shape a huge point of his life, but also showing you physical affection is important to him.

Whenever you’re around him he loves to give you small touches on the back, hold your hand, pressing occasional kisses onto your hair. He loves to hold you, feel you, smell you, hear and see you. Roy’s love is all about senses and just as sensational.

As for him, you know how much he likes it when you return his actions. Playing with his hair and holding him, whenever he feels like that. He loves massages, giving them and receiving them. Public display of affection has never been a problem to him, the world should know that his heart belongs to you.

Every touch between you is electric and fiery and very easily addictive. So whenever you think of his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, his body pressed against you, he does so, too. Your body is a temple to him, and he is your worshiper.

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captn-trex · 3 months ago

Text

how to feel again

Fives x F!Reader

word count: 3.1k

part two to gone, but not forgotten

description: since meeting fives and showing him to your secret space on coruscant, he had come to 79s almost every day to spend time with you. when he doesn't come in for weeks, you realise how much of a hole his absence leaves in your life.

warnings: fluff!!! small amount of sad fives, I think that's pretty much it, perhaps friends to lovers

a/n: part 2 !! go read the first part or it wont make that much sense. also flirty fives is so fun to write omg p.s. I saw a @/katekenobi edit to this song on tiktok and it's lowkey what inspired this sad fives vibe I suppose, anyway I love it so you must listen too

Life had always felt as if it were passing you by, that you were just watching the days go by, doing the same things, day in, day out. Recently, however, everything seemed to have slowed down, and you knew the reason why. Ever since you had met Fives, things had felt different.

Perhaps it was that you weren’t used to getting so much attention from one person, and the regular appearance in your life had captivated your attention so naturally. You were reluctant to get close with anyone new, but you just couldn’t help it. Especially when he would turn up at the bar almost everyday and charm you so effortlessly by simply being himself.

That was how it was until a couple weeks ago at least.

You suspected that Fives and the rest of the 501st had been sent on another campaign, which you couldn’t blame him for, you just wished that you could have known before his absence left a sizeable hole in your simple existence. You hadn’t quite realised what an impact his presence had made on you until it was gone.

Talking with Fives was easy. Usually, he would just sit at the end of the bar and nurse a short glass of liquor, and you would have light conversation as you served drinks to other patrons. Then as people dwindled, he would remain, and you would get to talk properly. He told you lots of stories about his brothers, and you asked a lot about Echo. You loved to see the way his eyes would light up as he told you about him, the joy he got from remembering the good times he spent with him. You told him a lot about yourself, your everyday life, your family, your friends, and the conversation flowed naturally towards deeper topics, with you finding yourself telling him things you hadn’t fully realised yourself. He would ask all the right questions, and challenge your beliefs about yourself and the galaxy in such a simple way; by asking why you thought that way.

It occurred to you that no one had ever cared to understand the way you thought before, and that's what endeared you to him the most.

He had become a great friend in a short time, and now you missed him. You were cautious to assume any ulterior motives in his constant presence, as he was forever turning down the many advances from men and women alike. He was so insistent about it that you were convinced he must have a partner, though you assumed that if that was the case, they probably didn't live on coruscant, as he spent his evenings in your company instead.

You didn't think too far into it, you were just glad to have his company. Though you couldn't help the jealous pang that hit your chest when you saw the latest person flirt with him. He entertained them until they took it too far, and watching it unfold right next to you made your jaw grind.

Tonight was very busy. Your hands were completely full, both metaphorically and literally, every customer seemingly wanting the most difficult drinks to make. You could barely hear people to take their orders over the noise. Though still, the ruckus caused by the 501st was unmatched.

You caught the flash of blue in the low light and your heart skipped a beat, your throat going dry. You tried to look to see if it was Torrent Company, but your focus was quickly drawn by another demanding customer. You focused your attention on them, trying to forget how you had such a visceral reaction to the possibility of Fives being back.

It was a while before you saw him, but the crowd around the bar cleared as if just to make sure you could get a perfect view of the show. Your eyes caught him immediately, his charming smile and highly recognisable tattoo and facial hair standing out among his brothers. He was looking up at a sky blue Twi'lek, who was leaning her arm onto the back of his seat, her face close to his.

Your teeth ground together as you watched him talk to her, your hand tightening around the bottle you were holding. You crossed you arms as he looked her up and down subtly, his gaze settling on her face as he said something to her with a smirk. She seemed somewhat deterred by whatever he had said, and it was then that he cast a glance at you. He caught the deep frown settling over your features, and his smirk widened. You felt yourself go bright red, turning away and pretending to clean glasses to busy yourself.

Not even one minute later, Fives was at the bar.

“Something the matter Cyar'ika?” He spoke, and your heart stuttered at the sound of his voice.

“Hey Fives” You said simply, a smile adorning your features as you turned, as if he hadn't just caught you staring.

“You were giving me quite the sour look just now” He smirked, “Any particular reason why?”

You just shrugged. It seemed that neither of you wanted to acknowledge how much time had passed since you had seen each other last.

“Come on, you can tell me” He said in an almost mocking voice, though there was an undeniable fondness to it.

“Can't a woman have her secrets?” You asked teasingly, resting your hands on the edge of the bar.

“Hm, I suppose so” He replied, and sat in his usual seat towards the end of the bar.

You instinctively sorted his usual drink and placed it in front of him, and he thanked you, handing you some credits.

“That's too much” You handed back his change but he reached out and closed your hand with his.

“Keep it” He smiled, and you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered at the feel of his hand around yours and the kindness in his eyes.

“Thanks” You returned his smile and pocketed the credits, “Shouldn't you be sat with your brothers?” You asked.

“Maybe… But I prefer your company” He said simply, a small grin making its way onto his face.

You chuckled, “Aren't you a flattering one”

“Only for you” He smiled disarmingly.

You raised a brow at him, an amused twinkle in your eye, “You 501st boys doing another little game tonight or what?”

“I don't play games”

“Huh, funny. I remember you telling me how incredible you are at Sabacc”

Fives rolled his eyes, “That's not what I meant”

You gave him a little smirk before moving away to serve the onslaught of customers that were seeking your attention.

The hours were passing exceeding slowly tonight, your time filled by drunken slurring and impatient patrons. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but with Fives back in town and sat watching your every movement, it was more frustrating than usual. It was hours later when you got the chance to talk to him again.

“So…” You began, leaning on the bar in front of him, “Where have you been?”. You tried to sound inquisitive rather than accusatory.

“Just away on a campaign” He replied, then cleared his throat, “Uh, I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to tell you, we left with pretty short notice”

“I kinda figured as much” You shrugged with a smile, “It's fine anyway, you don't owe it to me to-”

You were interrupted by a customer shouting at you, and rolled your eyes as you went to serve them. You took their order and gave them their drink quickly, making your way back over to Fives.

“Where were we?” You asked, an exasperated sigh escaping you.

Fives gave you a sympathetic smile, “I was just about to ask how you've been”

“Oh, fine” You replied.

“Just fine? Come on, I want to know what's been going on in your life” He leaned forwards with a grin.

“Well, I'm not su-”

You gritted your teeth together as someone else called for you, and you moved away to serve them.

You didn't get another chance to speak with Fives for the rest of the evening, though you always let your eyes wander over to him in between taking orders and making drinks. You noticed that he became increasingly more dejected and out of it each time you looked at him, but before you could ask what was wrong, he had disappeared from the bar altogether.

You looked around the bar, and couldn't see him anywhere, and when it came time for closing you still couldn't see him. You had a small inkling of where he could be, at least, you hoped that he would be there.

When you approached the empty apartment, the door was already slid open. You peeked your head through to make sure it wasn't someone else, but as you hoped, it was Fives that had left it so. He was laying down on the balcony, staring up at the stars and traffic lanes above. You took a few steps inside, but as you got closer to him you could see the tear stains on his cheeks.

You felt awful for intruding on such a private moment, and immediately began backing away, but you could have no such luck as to make it out without a sound. You knocked your knee on one of the side tables that adorned the room and let a curse slip from your lips.

Fives’ head whipped around, leaning on his elbow for support, but his posture relaxed when he saw it was you.

“Sorry” You whispered, a blush creeping up your neck at getting caught.

“Don't be” He smiled, “Join me?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-”

“Please, I'd like you to” He spoke with a small hint of desperation, and you couldn't resist it even if you tried.

You walked over slowly and sat down next to him, stretching out your limbs to lay down. For a moment, you two just watched the sky, the speeders passing overhead and the stars that littered the sky. You had never thought to lay down before, but it brought a whole new perspective to the space.

“You never got to tell me about what you've been up to” Fives said, turning to face you. You looked at him, and though you weren't very close together, your stomach still flipped.

“It's okay. It's not very interesting anyway” You chuckled sadly.

“I'm interested” He insisted, and you looked back to the sky when your cheeks started heating up again.

“The last few weeks were very uneventful. I fixed up my speeder and that was pretty much it” You said with a heavy sigh, “Nothing ever really goes on in my life to be honest, like I've said before. The job at the bar is all I really have”

“I'm sure you could have some stuff going on, like friends? boyfriends? stuff like that?” He suggested, and you let out a small laugh.

“I have friends yeah, but they work during the day so I don't get to see them very often”

“Why don't you work somewhere else then?” He asked.

You sighed again, “I wish it were that easy”

A silence enveloped you both again, watching the sky that felt like it was only for your eyes, a special show for the two of you who were wrapped up in your own little world.

“What are you doing here tonight?” Fives asked softly.

“To be honest? I was kinda hoping to see you here”

He turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised, “You were?”

“Mhm”

Fives waited for you to say something, anything else, but when you stayed quiet he decided to ask, “Why?”

“I don't know really, I suppose I’ve missed you” You admitted, refusing to look at him.

“I missed you too” He replied after a short moment, “And I meant what I said earlier”

You finally looked to him, “Meant what?”

“I enjoy your company”

Fives just looked at you with an indescribably emotion, something you couldn’t define. You admired his features, the features you were so used to seeing, but they somehow seemed new when looking at him.

“I enjoy your company too Fives”

He smiled tightly and then looked up, feeling the urge to share what was on his mind, “Echo hated Coruscant”

“I don't blame him” You agreed, “What about you?”

“What about me?” He looked back to you with a questioning frown.

“Do you like it here?”

He sighed, “I don't know. I don't really know how to feel about anything anymore”

You hummed in understanding of what he meant, you recall feeling similar when your own brother died. In fact, it still felt like that sometimes.

He then continued, “But some parts are okay, some… people”

You didn't catch his emphasis, “I don't know, I haven't met many inspiring people here”

“I sure have” He said definitively.

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Only one maybe” He shrugged, “But I think she's inspiring enough for the whole planet”

You tensed up at his words, facing the sky once again with your thoughts swirling with jealousy. You swallowed hard and tried to keep your breathing steady. It was annoying that Fives being with someone else affected you so much, there was no real good reason that you should feel that way.

“What makes her so inspiring?” You asked, trying to keep the indignation out of your voice.

“She… makes me feel like I'm not alone”

“That's good, I'm glad you have someone like that” You nodded, your jaw tightening with each word. You meant it, but your jealousy was almost giving you a headache.

Fives just watched you amusedly for a moment, and then shifted closer to you slightly, leaning in to speak lowly to you, “You do realise I'm talking about you, right?”

You turned to look at him and he was a lot closer than you had imagined, so close that your nose lightly grazed his as you turned. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his rich brown eyes, “You… You think I'm inspiring?”

“Mhm” He hummed, and gently rubbed his nose against yours, purposefully this time.

You were frozen, “Why?”

He inspected the various tones he could see in your eyes now that he was so close, as if it was where he was finding his answer, “You remind me that there's good in the galaxy, something worth… fighting for. I-”

He took a moment to find the words, looking up at the sky, and you allowed yourself to breathe.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you when I was away. Even in the middle of the fight, I couldn't get you out of my head, that… people like you are the reason we have to fight, the reason that I have to fight” He moved his gaze back, rolling onto his side so his body faced you, “Without Echo, I felt lost - I still do, but… You, you give me strength in a different way, the strength to carry on”

You were absolutely stunned into silence. You had never had such an observation made about you before, and you found it almost crazy that someone thought of you as what was ‘good’ in this large galaxy. You weren’t sure what to say, completely at a loss for words.

“Thank you” You breathed out unsurely, the only thing coming to your mind.

“Anytime” Fives smirked a little, a small chuckle sounding in the back of his throat. He didn't leave the close proximity he had put himself into, and instead brought a hand up to your cheek to gently brush his knuckles over your cheek. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears at this point.

“Cyar'ika… Can I kiss you?”

Your heart stuttered, but you let a small smile spread over your lips. “Only if you tell me what that word means” You whispered.

Fives grinned, taking your cheek in his hand. “It means darling” He tilted his head, his eyes falling to your lips as his almost brushed against them. He dragged his thumb along your bottom lip, his eyes then finding yours again, swimming with adoration. “My darling” He whispered, just before he finally locked his lips with yours.

He kissed you deeply, simply taking his time to devour your lips as if the whole galaxy would wait on it. His hand slid to the back of your neck and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. Your hand found the top of his chest plate, and you pulled him into you further, wanting to be impossibly close to him in this intimate moment. Everything in your body felt as if it had been set alight. Every nerve was electrified and buzzing with passion at the feel of his lips tangled with yours.

Fives pulled back after a while, pressing his forehead into yours his eyes opening to look deeply into yours. You bit your lip and your cheeks flushed a darker shade, feeling nervous under his intense gaze all of a sudden. He chuckled slightly at your reaction, running his thumb along your lip to stop you.

His demeanour then became more serious, “Cyar’ika… I know I can't offer you much, only as much as the war allows me to, and it seems cruel to even ask but… I want you to be mine”

You smiled broadly, a glint of mischief in your eye, “I’d be honoured, you are the most sought-after clone in 79s after all”

Fives rolled his eyes, and pushed you onto your back again, his face above yours as he gently held you waist, “And yet… you’re the only one that caught my attention”

“If you say so” You smiled, nudging his nose with yours.

“I do say so” Fives spoke resolutely, placing a kiss to your jaw, and trailing a few more down your neck. “And I’m going to make sure everyone else knows too” He hummed against your skin, sending a shiver up your spine. He could feel you shudder beneath him and smirked, “That sound good to you?”

“I think I could live with it” You tried to joke, but it came out far too breathless to pretend that he wasn’t having an affect on you.

It certainly sounded appealing for the rest of the patrons of 79s to know that you were his, and that he was yours.

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