#understanding and others i just simply wasn’t
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
gymbunnycandiehart · 3 days ago
Photo
Leaning Into the "Whatever"
Sometimes, I sit with these thoughts and realize… there's a lot about me I simply don't "get." I don’t always know why certain things make my heart flutter, or why I’m drawn so deeply to softness, beauty, and quiet expressions of self.
Maybe growing up surrounded by beauty — with a mother who styled hair and a father who cared for delicate clothes — wasn’t just a backdrop to my life. Maybe it planted something tender inside me: a longing not just to see the beauty, but to be part of it. Not just to appreciate it on others, but to wear it, feel it, live it.
And maybe I don't need to fully understand it. Maybe I'm not meant to wrap it all up neatly with an answer. Maybe... I'm meant to lean into my "whatever" — my quirks, my longings, my gentle girly heart — and simply be content with it. 💖✨
Sometimes, life’s mysteries aren’t puzzles to solve — they’re gifts to embrace. And today, I’m choosing to embrace mine--whether growing or not--with open arms. 🎀
Much Love to You, CandieHart 🌸
Tumblr media
945 notes · View notes
angeastrd · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
. . . late night calls .ᐟ
natasha romanoff x fem! reader. fluff!
after a hard mission, all she wants to do is talk to her girlfriend
“Did I wake you up?” The hoarse voice of Natasha Romanoff is the first thing you hear in your bleary haze, as you blink, willing yourself to wake up. You stare at the unknown number on your screen – burner phone. She wasn’t supposed to communicate with you during missions.
“. . . Huh?” you mumble. Your eyes glance over to the clock; 2:14 A.M. glares back at you, as you focus back on the voice crackling through your phone. You shake your head, before seeming to remember that she can’t see you on the other side of the line. “No,” you correct, perhaps a little too delayed. “You didn’t wake me. Been up. For a while,” you lie. She snorts. She still didn’t understand why you tried to lie to her– she was a professional spy, for god's sake. She was always going to know. Still you liked to try. 
She doesn’t comment, instead admitting, “I needed to hear your voice.” She pauses. Was that too vulnerable? Sometimes Natasha worries that you may be in love with the Black Widow the world sees, and not the broken-down, morally gray Natasha Romanoff. She was a fragmented soul, and she dreaded the day that you would gain clarity of that and take your leave. Being with an Avenger already wasn’t easy work – hell, the title had at least a decade of trauma attached to it. It probably was in the contract. Being with the Black Widow? That was more trouble than she was worth.
“I missed you too,” you responded simply, and she was thankful that you were able to read in between the lines of what she was not brave enough to say. “I’m sorry for waking you up,” she starts, and before you can reassure her, she continues, words flowing now that she had begun, “I had to exterminate a target today. He was a HYDRA agent. He had a picture of his kids in his wallet,” she confesses, voice cracking as she tries to recompose herself. “You probably think I’m being ridiculous. Having more empathy for this random man than he had for everything I stand in,” she mutters. 
“I don’t think you’re ridiculous, Natasha. I’ve never thought that,” and you can picture the way her shoulders relax at your words. She had always worried that her flaws were too varied – and her strengths too lacking. “I think you’re incredibly strong, especially to feel so much empathy over someone who was not on your side. I love you,” you tack on, almost like a reminder that she's allowed to feel with you – she’s allowed to admit things and be vulnerable and it's okay. 
She clears her throat, and your heart aches for her. Long distance truly never got easier, but absence did make the heart fonder. “When do you come home?” you offer. Natashas' window of vulnerability had closed by now. But every time, that window got a little longer (for you. The S.H.I.E.L.D. appointed therapist still didn’t even have a window). 
She hums at that, and you can hear ruffling on the other line – she liked to talk to you before bed. It was her version of long distance pillowtalk. “Should be home tomorrow night.” she answers, as a yawn escapes your lips. “You’re tired,” she notes, and there's a hint of apology in her words. 
“‘M not even tired,” you mutter in protest, “I have never yawned in my life. Swear,” you grouse, and she lets out a soft laugh at your words. Your lips curve up at that. You always liked being able to make her laugh; she didn’t laugh unless it was genuinely funny. She laughed with you quite a lot.
“You’re a liar,” she chides. “And you snore. I miss your snoring,” she admits.
“That's gay,” you mumble, head lolling against the pillow. 
“So was the phone sex we had last night?” she counters, and you both delve into giggles. Even though the two of you were apart, you can tell that she muffled her laughs in her pillow – just like you did. 
“Shut up. I need to go to bed,” you mutter, trying to change the topic. You would probably never get used to how easy it was to talk to her. “Stay on the phone. Don’t hang up”
“Needy. Have I ever hung up on you?” she asks, the indulgence in her voice ridiculously evident. “One time your phone died,” you retort, before letting out a big yawn. “Tell me about the rest of your day” Mid-way through her story, she hears a soft snore crackle through the line. “Are you asleep right now?” 
“. . .” 
If you were awake, you’d be able to visualize the fond look on her face. “Goodnight. I love you. Sleep well,” she whispers. 
Tumblr media
270 notes · View notes
hitlikehammers · 2 days ago
Text
🍪That One Time Wayne Munson Got Gifted Some Homemade Cookies (by the man who’s also His Boy), Some Time to Listen to His Love-Drunk Nephew💍, and Some Opportunities to Answer Questions He Already Knows the Answers To (plus a bonus chance to celebrate Elizabeth Munson—God rest her soul) but Still Got NO COFFEE 🫠
☕️OR: 3/5 times Steve/Eddie talk to anyone but each other about their feelings (for each other), +1 (other time they turn around and talk to one another)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Stevie made those.”
Wayne turns when he hears his nephew’s voice, the fancy Tupperware still in his hand.
“Figured as much,” Wayne shakes the box; “sure as hell wasn’t you.”
He expects Eddie to squawk, all self-righteous with not half-a-foot to shake on; but he hears Eddie come in just from his footsteps; how he leans against the doorway.
Wayne thinks Eddie’s comfortable way of being in this space is how this little house of theirs has been a place he’s been able to really think of as a home.
“I mean, he made me a batch, and you a batch,” Eddie leans his whole body toward where Wayne’s holding the Hershey-capped cookies: “those are all yours.”
Wayne looks down at the container in his hands, feels something complicated in his throat he don’t have a name for, but is a feeling he is finding himself coming close with more and more these days.
“He gonna be around later?” Wayne asks, gruffer than he means, or expects: but should have done.
Pesky thing in his throat, and all.
“If he gets off work at a decent time,” Eddie answers with a dramatic sigh before his face screws up in distaste as he adds; “inventory.”
Wayne hopes it goes quick; hopes everybody was kind and did rewind or…whatever inventory entails at a video store. He wants very much to thank the boy for his treats—and them being exclusively left for him—Eddie takes the Hershey-tops and leaves the cookie, always has. Grinds Wayne’s gears somethin’ awful.
And Wayne wouldn’t have pegged Harrington as a thoughtful boy, save maybe about the balance of his bank account, if he’d been asked to lodge an opinion on the kid sight-unseen; he admittedly hadn’t heard the name among those he sometimes caught of his Ed complaining about whatever hubbub had taken over the ‘preps and jocks’ in ‘the fiefdom of Hawkins High’.
To his shame as a good supportive listener, but the necessity of his sanity, Wayne mostly tuned out what came after those sorts of words when his nephew went off on one of his…opining spells.
Harrington was only a bit player, though, that Wayne was fairly sure of, simply because he only noticed that name on behalf of his daddy, out of all the names he took little to no notice of at all. And Wayne didn’t notice all that much.
He always perked up for it, and the overarching memory of whatever always followed was mild and tame in comparison to what he expected from the son and heir of that rat bastard.
Most recently, before all hell broke loose and Wayne came to know any better, Ed had been consumed with something of a conspiracy theory involving his new crop of ‘sheepies’ and his dungeon club being bamboozled by a…conniving Harrington seeking to corrupt them into, if Wayne understands correctly, the sins of having a reliable ride to the arcade, to the city for their little dragon supplies, and transportation safely home after dark in the winter.
Also being ‘normal’, which: Wayne knows his boy well enough to at least understand that is indeed an unacceptable offense.
But then all hell had broken loose, and the first time Wayne sees Steve Harrington up close for himself is at his boy’s bedside in clearly pilfered scrubs, which track with how he’s got an IV pole next to him where he sits—he was probably as much a gown-covered patient as Eddie is on the bed in front of them.
I’m sorry, are the first rough, tar-scraped words Wayne heard Harrington say, even if his eyes never leave Eddie to say them. Probably he suspects only family’s allowed in, and maybe already recognizes the sounds of the nurses, and knows that ain’t Wayne.
But those are these words Wayne hears for himself from Steve Harrington.
I’m sorry, followed close by: I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t save him, I got him here as quick as I could, I swear, I—
And that’s where Wayne had walked up and put a careful hand on this kid’s shoulder, even if he’d tended under the touch—or tried to, like his instinct was to go still but there was some deeper thing that trembled harder, unstoppable no matter how he tried—but Wayne set a hand on that shoulder, where the boy sat at his nephew’s bedside, while Wayne pointed out the important bit:
You did save ‘im, though, and Wayne had waited for the kid to look up, eyes rimmed red and expression just damn…shattered, but Wayne, as much as he’d been feeling much the same himself, he’d nodded toward the bed until the boy had followed the gaze to the very point Wayne had been trying to make, the why for how he’s only feeling shattered and nothing worse: his boy is there on that bed. His chest’s risin’ and falling. The monitor counting his heartbeats is steady.
This young man did save his boy. He tried, and he succeeded in the trying.
And that had been Wayne’s first real impression of Steve Harrington. Nothing like his daddy’s money. No nefarious plots, neither.
Hadn’t gone lost on him that nobody’d come to usher him back to wherever he’d come from with that gown and that line in his own arm, not for hours.
Wayne’s shaken free from his mulling when Eddie opens the fridge, grabs a beer—offers one to Wayne as if the man hadn’t just got up for the goddamn day and hadn’t even started his pot of coffee first.
Though, in honest fact: Eddie probably would grab a beer if he wanted one, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Crazy kid.
“He asked me to call and let him know if you want him to pick up pizza or chicken for dinner.”
It takes Wayne a second—maybe he’s the one who needs to shake off the sleep—but…nope. Nope, Eddie means Steve, there, because who else would come over with takeout, expecting the obvious that Wayne’s pretty damn sure Eddie also mentioned already:
“You just said,” Wayne starts and Eddie pops back out of the refrigerator, leans against the doors to push it closed.
“Robin said she’ll cover for him to bring it over, even if he can’t stay,” Eddie shrugs with a bright grin, and Wayne’s hit with the dregs of thinking back to that bright grin pulled tight under bandages, that spring up from a crouch to ransack the fridge stilled, battered, a question mark in the future of Wayne’s whole world—tries to shake it off before Eddie notices; “so that whatever you pick is here before you’re off.”
Wayne shouldn’t have worried about being noticed for dipping too close to the remnants of what it felt like to dance so long on the edges of grief in thinking on the hospital before—he’s teetering on the very opposite, here and now. Because Steve Harrington in theory really was the last person Wayne could imagine holding any positive feeling toward.
But as it stands: he don’t know what life looks like anymore without both his boys, safe and sound.
His eyes slide to one of those boys and notices how he’s staring off into nothing….except no. Not nothing. The counter where he’s got his hands propped now. And Wayne maybe’s only seeing from the side but…he doesn’t think he’s ever seen that kind of stare on his kid.
And his Eddie’s always been prone to just…staring off into space.
“What’s got you starin’ like that?” he asks, more suspiciously than concerned. Not least for the grin teasing the corner of Eddie’s mouth that Wayne can see.
“He gave me a ring.”
Eddie says it, voice low, never looking away from what Wayne presumes is that exact ring. He’s quietly entranced for a good near-on minute before he turns to Wayne, sobers a touch, but really only the slightest bit.
“Not like,” Eddie starts, then he pauses; bites his lips like it’s both incredibly simple and obvious and mighty complicated, all at once.
“I think he was raised too fancy not to ask you first,” Eddie lands on, spaces the words out slow; “for that.”
“Don’t need my permission,” Wayne half-grouses, more…not offended, but maybe closer to concerned—somewhere in the middle. That the boy would think to need his okay, but at the same crossing, to even second-guess he’s long since more’n had it, either way.
“He knows that,” Ed shoots back simply, definitive-like, which sets something more rustled-up than Wayne had expected it’d get back now to ease.
Before he tips Wayne’s world over in a whole other way, instead.
“He would want your blessing.”
The knowing glint in Eddie’s eyes is…Wayne’s not sure he’s had it turned back on him like that before. Knocks him a little crooked for the surprise of it before the words themselves knock him clear over—he’d never thought about being the person someone’d ask, like that.
Wouldn’t hesitate a second for Steve but…knowing the boy thinks well on you versus hearing, confident-like, that he’d seek out Wayne’s approval of the kinda feelings that have been clear from the early days and seem to grow more, and bigger, everything say, just…
Goddamn.
“But he said this was a temporary placeholder,” Eddie says it with such a smile in the words, his face all sunshine as he admires his left ring finger: always bare up to now, Wayne’s pretty sure; “I think he wants to wait until after I graduate.”
“Smart boy,” Wayne nods, gets back his footing a bit more; “gives you some extra motivation to cross the finish.”
And Eddie squawks his indignation right on schedule for it.
“Excuse you, I am doing very extremely passably in all my classes.”
“And I’m proud of ya for it,” Wayne nods, truthful as anything; “don’t mean a little extra nudge ain’t appreciated.”
That bit’s truthful too.
“Or a…colossal extra nudge,” Eddie concedes, tries to play petulant but his grin too big, too full to bite back any longer as he sighs, drapes himself a little more boneless over the precarious creak given by the kitchen chair he’s lounged in.
“He read my paper over, without bothering to tell mehe had a migraine coming on,” Eddie grouses, but he’s so goddamn fond about it through the worry; “sneaky bastard grabbed it up before I could get home to notice the signs it was imminent,” he whines a little more before gesturing out the window at the overcast sky: “not that I’d need to, with this fuckin’ weather.”
And Wayne will give Eddie that—scatterbrained and easily distracted as he’s always been? His biggest distraction is Steve. Steve’s whereabouts and safety, his well-being and caretaking—just Steve.
It’s…it’s heartwarming, Wayne can’t even think up a good way around that as the explanation that best suits.
“Stubborn,” is the explanation that Wayne vocalizes though, already figuring he’s roped into this conversation, and with an inkling where it could still turn?
He needs to save up his softest moments just in case.
“Gotta be why you’re so fond o’ each other,” Wayne hums like he’s reached some stunning realisation; “opposites attract sometimes as much as like finds like,” and Wayne always has reckoned these two maybe found the best of both in one near-world-ending go.
“Tried to tell me he just figured it wasn’t relevant,” Eddie rolls his eyes, brings it back to Steve as he usually tends to with most things, these days; “said it’s not like his eyes on my writing are worth anything anyway, because he’s, well,” and Ed straightens up there, expression hardening a little.
“He tried to call himself something offensive and also untrue, so I stopped him, but,” and Wayne knows well that argument. He’s taken to stopping it himself more’n once.
“Boy won’t accept his smarts are just as good as those rugrats you got,” Wayne says with conviction; “just look different, his do, s’all.”
Wayne doesn’t come from top-of-the-class stock, but he knows intelligence. In the field, in battle, in working hard with your hands, in honest everyday know-how. Recognizes it well in Steve, where Steve was probably only taught college meant smart, and anything other was just different, but mostly worthless.
Wayne really would enjoy a free shot at Steve’s daddy’s jaw, just once.
Cause he’d only need the once to break the sucker.
“Exactly,” Eddie sighs with an odd amount of enthusiasm, only person Wayne’s ever seen infuse a sigh with so much; “and all that, even without believing that he was willing to put himself in pain to make sure I didn’t miss a fuckin’ comma.”
Less than a minute’s-worth of quiet settles before Eddie’s back to talkin’—‘bout the same subject, of course, as per usual.
“He’s gonna help me with the van,” he announces, and that’s good to hear because that van…needs all the helping hands it can get, for as often as Eddie’s on Steve’s good graces for a ride these days.
Though Wayne don’t think Steve minds one lick.
“Next weekend, when he’s off,” Eddie’s elaborating, as if always his way, but Wayne feels…different with this. It’s as rambling as Eddie ever ends up being but, also it’s…it feels like it’s building up to something. Bolstering some other thing, though hell Wayne can suss out what. “He’s, like, really good with cars? Probably because of how much he pampers his—”
“Don’t gotta sell me on the boy, son,” Wayne finally cuts him off, “I know he’s good people,” which was a surprise he shouldn’t have made assumptions on without seeing for himself.
“And I know he’s good for you.”
And that, once he’d gotten clear of the assuming? That, Wayne had been sure on quick and with no doubts at all.
But his Ed still beams for it, red still high on his cheeks like every time he thinks of his boy is the brand new, first blush and everything.
“Yeah?” Eddie asks in that way that don’t require no answer.
But Wayne has one, for this, so he’s gonna give it anyway.
“That boy watches you like you walk on water,” Wayne scoffs, because he might’a known Eddie long enough to clock his heartsick ass from the get-go, but Steve wasn’t ever so hard to read, even at the start. By now, though?
“Looks at you like you shat the stars out and hung them for show.”
Ed looks up at the ceiling for a second, drags his hair to hide his face as he blushes full-on now and grins like anything. Wayne just enjoys the opportunity he never expected to get: seein’ his boy not just this happy, but so damn in love.
“He sees the best and worst in you, Ed, has seen youat your best and worst, and he still looks at you that way for all of it,” Wayne feels compelled to underscore the point, the uncommon magic in it all—here. After everything, sure, but: here, in all the world. “Not in spite of all of it, but for all of it,” and it’s true. Steve loves Eddie toe-to-toe, inside and out. Like Eddie loves—almost uncanny for the match of them.
“Kid loves the hell outta you,” Wayne comments definitive-like as he finally goes to get a mug from the cupboard—only to turn around and meet his boy’s too-surprised stare, those big eyes damn-near shocked at Wayne’s sureness, like he don’t have eyes.
“D’ya really think I’da been keepin’ my mouth shut if I didn’t think he was right for you, loved you right?” Wayne asks, which: it’s mostly meant for the way Wayne specifically makes his opinions known. Which are less about opening his mouth and more about certain combinations to grunting and narrowing his eyes—he ain’t foolish to his own peculiarities.
But this doesn’t qualify for any of that, so.
“World’s not always done right by you,” Wayne lets himself say a little softer, a little more…care-true around the vulnerable things. Ain’t ever been his strong suit but: for Eddie.
And for Steve.
“But for all it’s done wrong?” Wayne works a pointed brow. “I’m fairly sure puttin’ the two o’ you together’s something like it trying to make amends.”
Eddie smiles at that, the small kind he does when his heart’s in it most, but then he looks…earnest in a soft, almost-sober way before he says, dead serious:
“It was worth it.”
Wayne stills at the words—not because he’s that surprised, more just that…hearing ‘em out loud hits different.
Takes him back to those early first days where it was all by-the-hour, in God’s hands someone in the waiting room tried comforting him before he was allowed by Eddie’s bedside—cold comfort, that, when Wayne didn’t know he believed in those hands at all.
Just don’t tell his Ma, might be what sends her to her grave.
“I know you don’t agree,” Eddie sighs, but that’s…
“I didn’t say that.”
Eddie levels him with a doubtful kind of stare.
“Your face speaks for itself, old man.”
Wayne takes his time, sucks his lips: ain’t that simple. And he wants to try and get some words to fit right, when he’s not sure there are any that fit the bill—sure ain’t sure he’s the one to find them.
But for his boy? He’ll damn well try.
“I think you gotta make a lot of assumptions, to get t’that conclusion,” Wayne thinks through out loud—the idea that nearly losing his Ed was worth anything is unthinkable, but…Wayne ain’t blind, yeah? He sees all the signs of Eddie’s heart in this.
Sees Steve’s, too.
“But it’s not likely you’d have crossed paths like you did,” Wayne nods slow; “better part of a year o’ him ferrying those kids from your club and,” Wayne gives a pfft to underscore his point:
“Nothin’.”
So maybe it wouldn’t have needed to be so drastic, so close to heartbreaking, to get his boy next to the man he loved so deeply. But…history weren’t exactly on the side of that argument.
Heartbreaking as that fact was on its own.
“That poor girl, that would have happened either way.”
Eddie’s expression drops and Wayne hates that but: heartbreaking as it, too, was?
There’s truth to it. Wayne knows enough—and onlyenough—of the cursedness of this town, more of how it’s hurt people he cares about.
“Sometimes my worst nightmares don’t take me to the hospital, but a prison cell.”
Wayne’s voice is rougher than he wants. Eddie’s probably more still, and frozen quick with it? Than hewants.
At least not to be seen for it but: it still cuts. Like as much, it always will.
“I don’t know how I could have protected you,” Wayne admit a truth he holds with shame in his chest, much as he knows—or else, Hopper’s told him as often from the source, as much as Steve and Eddie have made clear in their own ways dancing around a truth Wayne bristles, but understand he’ll never know the whole of. “I would have died tryin’, but even if it was just the police, I,” he shakes his head, sighs out slow; “and the fuckin’ people of this town,” and that’s where he’s made more of anger than guilt because even now: this fuckin’ town.
“Ain’t words for how grateful I am to him, bringin’ you back,” Wayne says because it’s where his opinion of Steve Harrington truly started;
“But he’s like as my own now, for how he’s stayed,” and Wayne don’t speak words like those idly. Or lightly.
And Eddie knows it.
But Wayne knows in kind that his words ain’t no gate being lifted. Weren’t no way of convincing Eddie to say the words he follows with next. No: the words that follow?
Those were ones Eddie’s been sittin’ on. Holding close in his chest long enough that Wayne can hear the soul o’ him colorin’ every goddamn letter:
“I want Mom’s ring.”
And there it is. The thing he was maybe suspecting was coming—finally; what his softer feelings needing saving up for.
“What, no,” Eddie asks when Wayne doesn’t reply right away, less shaking with anything like hesitance, more like squaring up in case he needs to be defiant, needs to defend the love he’s damn well vibrating with; “no nothing?”
And see: Wayne’s been keeping Eddie’s mama’s ring safe since she passed—knew a boy that young couldn’t understand why it mattered, and then when he did grow old enough, Eddie’s asked him to keep hold of it. Don’t let me be stupid with it, Wayne remembers it clear as day, when they both knew that instruction was pointed less at the empty field of possible proposals to be made for Ed in Hawkins and far more at the possible temptation to pawn it, for rent or groceries, in the best of cases. And Wayne would rather have starved than lost this piece of Elizabeth, especially when Eddie has so few after Al’s endless string of idiocy, of cruelties and straight-said fuckups, Wayne can’t call ‘em less than they are.
So Wayne had kept hold of the ring.
And had got it shined up nice in a brand new pouch and everything, the first night he found Eddie asleep on Steve’s chest on the sofa, T.V. still on to static, clinging to him as hard as Steve was clinging back with one hand, stretched protective almost over Eddie’s chest, curling over and again ‘round his hair with the other, idle-honest affection even in his sleep.
It hadn’t been the first sign. Or the second. Or the hundredth. But it had been how Wayne had been sure of them, for whatever his own opinion in it counted for at all—again, they don’t need his permission to love.
But that was when his blessing went from full-throated to full-chested, whole-hearted. When Steve had slid from family, to his boy, too.
“Boy,” Wayne meets his other boy with a bit of pu-upon indignation of his own, learned from the master of it sat gaping like a fish before him, and Wayne ultimately can’t hold onto it when the smirk’s just too hard to fight; “you think I ain’t had that at the ready for months? Waiting on you to ask,” he puts his thoughts into words for sharing, which is always a task for him but is getting easier, with Ed. With Steve in a new way, for the chord it struck in him to get to know that boy, as under-appreciated and worn down on the inside as he’d been—save for how he’d loved Eddie brighter than the sun through all of it.
“He’s family already, Ed, s’far as I’m concerned.”
And Eddie closes his mouth, and his eyes look too sparkly, so Wayne clears his throat and looks away to let him…let those tears free or not, and make that decision for himself without an audience.
“Found a guy at the plant, knows someone who can try to resize it, though probably safer to reset it on another band, but,” Wayne folds his hands and locks the fingers, tapping them on his thighs in thought, but also with meaning:
“Bert thinks you could cut the original, somehow embed it inside something bigger, more like yours.” He points to Eddie’s collection, even his latest placeholder—as thick and right for his boy as it could possibly be.
As Steve would obviously know, and make damn sure if.
“No matter,” Wayne says, peeks to see if Eddie’s decided whether he needs some extra space with his feelings, closer to the surface now than they’d ever dared to be before—the doctors warned it could happen after he was discharged but Wayne knows it’s not that. It’s being soft-hearted and having something like what he’s found, to want his mama’s ring; “however you want it done,” and Wayne sees Eddie’s just blinking, red-rimmed but wiped mostly dry.
“However he wants it, to be honest,” Eddie’s breath in is a shaky thing, but it’s true, it’s a thing Wayne can recognize as devotion without trying even to look. “I just want him to have every piece of me he can, y’know? All of me,” and his voice cracks, and now Eddie’s the one who’s clearing his throat to get some footing: “everything I can, every way I can.”
And then he looks up properly, and meets Wayne’s eyes, means every single word when he says the most important part, the most honest thing—the most obvious truth:
“He’s my heart, y’know?”
And the only thing Wayne can think is: he’s found a good one, Lizzie, you’d be so proud of your boy.
So proud of this boy, for your boy.
“And he already graduated, so,” Eddie picks at his nails, the way he does when he makes a smart ass side comment he wants to flag to Wayne that he’s making, but smooth-like. Wayne might be old, now, but he remembers what counted for smooth—and this was never it; “nothing I need to hold it back for as motivation.”
Wayne goes ahead let’s a snort loose to at least acknowledge Ed’s poor attempt, score he shoots for the core of the matter:
“Boy,” he shakes his head with a loose grin, the kind that’s ready to grow as and when needed: “maybe you’ve got yourself a mighty fine placeholder ring,” he nods down to Eddie’s hand and hell, but Eddie’s already admiring the thing at the slightest suggestion, if’n he ever entirely stopped at all.
“But he was never ‘round here with nothing but his whole heart for you,” Wayne says, one of the surest things he knows in this world.
“Almost as obvious as you with it,” he lets himself smirk a little for how Eddie goes a little red, but shineswith it so goddamn bright.
S’just another sure thing Wayne knows.
“Lemme go get you that ring,” Wayne gets to his feet and heads further past the table, waits out Eddie’s confusion, and the inevitable ask:
“You keep it in the kitchen?”
And so what if he did? Wayne lets Eddie dog his steps all the way in before he flips the Mr. Coffee on—fucking finally.
“I ain’t had my coffee yet,” Wayne turns, raises a daring, of teasing kind of brow Eddie’s way as he goes to grab the mug he’s fetched before, lest it feel abandoned; “and my son-in-law-to-be baked me blossoms,” he pops open the Tupperware and breathes in the peanut butter deep; maybe a little extra dramatic because he’s actually pretty tickled to be able to say that for his own self: son-in-law-to-be.
Not that Steve wasn’t already family, but, y’know. Something in the words, out loud.
But still:
“I’m allowed a detour.”
The ring’s waited this long, for something that’s been true all this time already. It can stand a cup-o-joe and some homemade cookies with risk of gettin’ abandonment issues.
Tumblr media
1: Gareth // 2: Mrs. Harrington // 3: Wayne // 4: ??? // 5: ??? // +1: ???
☕️
✨also on ao3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
💫for @penny00dreadful—happiest of happy birthdays, my lovely 🖤
✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @eternal-sunflowers @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here
divider credit, weird as it is: ME ☕️🍪
111 notes · View notes
persesphonestears · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Hybrid Task Force 141 x gn! Raccoon! Reader
A/N - Hybrid Task Force 141 inspired by @bluegiragi ‘s au (I did receive a request from @supdockto to make the reader have siblings but it didn’t really fit in with what I had in mind so I hope you don’t mind!) (not proofread cause I needed to get this posted) [✮] - stands for ‘your name’ instead of (y/n)
Tumblr media
You still don’t really understand how you found yourself sitting here, restrained and honestly a little scared. Four big, buff, military men standing around you, all looking down on you with blank and menacing faces. An odd group of different hybrids, what looks like a dragon, a harpy, a werewolf, and even what looks like some type of wraith hybrid. The dragon, who seems to hold more authority over the rest of them, steps forward, a cigar hanging from his lips, smoke billowing out from past his lips. “Want to explain what you were doing sneaking around with those files?” His gruff voice breaking through the tense silence as his hat casts a shadow over his eyes.
“Uh- I mean not really” You huffed out, “but I’m guessing that I’m not going to be getting out of here so I can get the other half of the money I’m owed for said files, soo..” Your shoulders raised in a shrug, doing your best to act nonchalant about the whole situation. The feeling of burning gazes scorching into your skin as you wriggled uncomfortably in your restraints. The bearded man nods to the masked one as he starts walking over, tall and imposing, causing fear to run through you. 
Standing to the side of the chair, a large hand speeds past your head grabbing a fist full of hair and forcing your neck backwards. “Who are you working with?” The masked man asks, his voice dark and menacing. Black smoke emerging out from under his mask and gloves, the air turning cold as the sight. A string of chittering and growls surface from your throat, the feeling of tears pricking the corner of your eyes as they squeeze together. “I d-don’t work with anyone! I-I’m being paid to get the f-files!” Your voice stammered, the burn of your hair being pulled suddenly stopping as your head is slightly pushed forward as your hair is released.
Another low growl escapes your throat as you look up at them through your brows, lips slightly curled, sharp teeth being exposed as you do so. “Well who paid you to get them hm?” One of the men voiced. “I don’t fuckin’ know, they give me half the money before the job and the other half when I give them what they needed. I don’t ask questions, I just need the money.” Your voice grumbled out, frustration and annoyance evident in your tone as you speak to them.
The men continued to simply stare at you as you stayed seated, arms and legs bound ensuring there wasn’t any possibility to escape. After a few moments of silence, the air was heavy with tension when the man with the fishermans hat spoke, “Well, if you don’t give us any names, guess you’re not worth our time.” With that he and other men turned on their heels and began their walk out of the dingy room. At the realization they were leaving you alone, in the musty room still bound and imobile, you yell out, “HEY! You can’t just leave me in here!” but almost as soon as your words rang out, so did the slamming of the door. Left alone, ears ringing slightly, and the prospect that you won’t be escaping any time soon finally started weighing down on you.
*Timeskip* (sorry I just really wanna actually post this for y’all lmao)
Eventually the men came back down to the room where you were being held, noisily walking into the room, confirming your suspicions about the subtle noises that were happening outside the door. The sound of a chair dragging sounded throughout the room, scraping across the floor as the man with the fisherman hat stopped it in front of you, taking a seat, clearly showing off the file in his hands, something you guessed held as much information that whoever he works for could find.
After a staring contest between you and the man, neither of you directing your eyes away from the other, he finally spoke up, his voice loud and intimidating. “Well, we got your file here, so you may as well start speaking, we’ve already got what we need.” You knew what he was doing. You already knew he was lying, for the simple fact that you ran out of the childcare system when you were young, they didn’t have anything on you except your past up until you were about 7 or 8.
Sitting there you contemplated whether you should play along or try shattering their resolve a little bit, choosing the latter of the two, you allowed a smirk to adorn your face. “Unfortunately *sir* I know you’re bullshitting me. I know you don’t have anything, I’ve kept myself off the radar of any government since I was a little kit. All you’d have is everything up till I was 7 or 8. Nothing more nothing less.” A clear smugness was evident in your voice as you spoke mockingly to the man seated across from you, watching as his face tightens.
The masked man stepped forward, his eyes squinted, implying his anger. “You understand we can kill you right?” his voice growled out, his hands tightening into fists. The silence throughout the room was deafening, the tall group of men staring down at you, their gaze unwavering. A deep sigh escaped from your chest as you rolled your eyes at the men, “I already risk my life by stealing the shit I get paid for, you threatening to kill me isn’t all that scary.” You tell them honestly, though you honestly thought they’d realize that by now seeing as you were sitting being interrogated by them. 
After another bout of silence the door opened, a blond woman stepped in, an air of authority surrounding her as her face held no emotion. “Boys” She spoke, the men created space for her to stand in front of me. She held a file in her hands as she took a seat in front of me, “Look [✮], you have skills, you’re extremely good at what you do, so I’d like to offer you a proposition.” Her voice was steady, calm, and clear, she kept eye contact with you as she spread out the file in front of you. “You work for us, you’ll be paid, and you will have our protection. You will need to have further training and you will be kept under mine, and captain Price’s supervision. You can have a decent amount of free range around the base but you will need to report to any of the four men, Captain Price, Lieutenant Ghost, Sergeant Soap, or Sergeant Gaz.” Her voice trailed off as you took in the information, you’d have a free place to sleep with an actual bed, you’ll have free food, a shower anytime you could want. The only downside would be living with a bunch of army men but you could get over that fairly easily.
“So, what do you say, [✮]?” The question brought you back to the present, your eyes flicking up to the men stood behind the women, examining their faces, as you pretended to contemplate the offer. 
A small sigh came from your lips before you remade eye contact with the woman in front of you. The corners of your lips quirked upwards as you stared momentarily before finally answering. “Sure.”.
Tumblr media
A/N - RAHHHHHHHH I FINALLY FINISHED IT! I'll probably make a part two cause I love raccoon reader! I'm so sorry this took so fuckin long btw, hope you enjoyed :3
Tumblr media
80 notes · View notes
pedrettilov3r · 1 day ago
Text
Darling Part Two
Pairing: Remmick x Female!Reader
Warnings: Vampires, violence, smut, blood sucking, language, death.
Tumblr media
a/n: Part two is here! Thank you to everyone that reading this, it has really got me back into writing fics. Let me know if there are any prompts you have for Remmick fics! My characterization is a little different from the ones I have read on here, I feel like he has more of an awkward charm and I thought it’d be interested to have him with a bolder reader. And I was listening to Father Figure while writing this 🙏 Sorry guys I was ovulating when I wrote this
You walked with determination outside and towards the group that was currently playing a song together. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit anxious about approaching them. You knew you could hold your own, you grew up with the twins after all, but something about this group was off and it sent chills up your spine. Their song was eerie and they kept singing even as they watched you walk up, you had to admit they did sound good, in the same way that sirens sounded good. Remmick with his gravelly voice especially caught your ear, you knew your voices would pair beautifully together. You made your way towards him and took a sit next to him on the log he sat upon. He stared longingly, almost hungrily into your eyes as he sang to you, his face lingered dangerously close to yours and you could feel his breathe on the side of your face as he sang. Something about the way he was looking at you made you even more attracted to the man. You didn’t know what you were thinking this was not the time for distractions, you simply had to get information from him and then be on your way. You couldn’t lie, the way he was looking at you like he wanted to drink you made you want to do unspeakable things to the man, but you knew the twins would kill him if they knew he touched you. They would be suspicious if you stayed out here too long, but something about him made you not want to leave.
They ended their song and you gave them a round of applause chuckling “Wow that was amazing! Maybe I could join you in your next song?” He smiled at your kind words, now it was his turn to blush. The man had such an awkward charm to him, he was bold and smooth but also awkward and seemed nervous at the same time. “Why thank you darling. You looking for a some of fresh air?” He asks. “I just come to apologize for the way the twins rejected y’all like that. They can be a bit aggressive at times but I promise they don’t have bad intentions, you understand? And I wanted to see if y’all was good people.” You smiled at him. “Aw darling, that’s so sweet of you. We most surely are.” You knew there was something more that he wasn’t saying but you guess that went for the both of you so you couldn’t really judge. “And y’all got money to spend” you questioned. He chuckled at your forwardness “Oh yeah, plenty of money. You wanna see?” You inched closer to the man, “Well yeah I wanna see.” The other man pulled out two coins of solid gold and placed them in your hand. You scoff in surprise at what you’re seeing, this kind of money could change everything for the twins right now. “What type of money is this?” You question suspiciously. “The solid gold kind darling.” He smirks whispering into your ear. You feel like your skin is on fire at how close he is. You have to take a deep breathe to stay focused. “Where is this from?” You question “It’s from a different place and a different time but it spends just the same.” His hand wraps around yours and closed your hand on the coins “You can have it.” You look at him confused as he continues “but it’s no good to you.” The woman beside you echoes his words sending chills up your spine. “Yeah and what makes you say that?” You ask, your confidence coming back to you. He looks at you with a look of seriousness “Cause you in some deep deep pain. That money. Can’t fix. Am I right?” You look at him surprised, how could he possibly know that? Images of your mother flash through your mind. “You came over her for fellowship and love.” The woman echoes him again and you stand to your feet “Okay cut the bullshit. I came over here to talk you,” you say annoyed at his distractions and he looks a bit surprised “so can we have a conversation..alone please.” You say looking at his companions. He chuckles at your annoyed manner and stands to his feet, handing his banjo to the other man. “Of course darling”
He places a hand on your lower back and takes you to a clearing in the trees where the other two can’t see or hear you. “This better?” He questions scanning your face, “Yes, thank you.” You huff letting your annoyance leave your body, he doesn’t miss this and a smirk creeps onto his face. “What do you really want?” You question suspiciously. He slowly steps closer to you “What do I want?” He chuckles and you don’t miss the suggestive undertone of his voice as he continues walking closer to you. Your breath catches in your throat as your back presses up against a tree. He isn’t stopped by this as he continues to slowly move closer to you, teasing you, until his mouth is pressed against your ear. You’re waiting desperately for what he will say and he seems to enjoy this because you feel the smile that forms on his lips. His breath dances in your skin as one hand slides onto your waist while the other makes it way into your hair. Your breath has caught up with you now and he whispers softly into your ear “I want you darling.” That awkwardness you were first met with has been replaced by a quiet confidence that makes you want to let him do whatever he wants with you.
You want this. You want him. Your hands find his hair and pull his head from your ear to look into your eyes. He has that smirk on his face and that desperate look in his eyes that you find irresistible, and you swear you see his eyes flash red for a moment before you pull him into a passionate kiss. It’s messy and heated at first from your haste, but you both find your rhythm as you melt into the kiss. Both of your hands roam and he pushes you into the tree as his knees finds it way in between your legs. “Remmick” you gasp at the friction and his hand moves from your hair to around your throat “yes love?” He whispers. His voice is dangerous to you right now, you find him so irresistible you need him desperately. Your hands pull his suspenders off and desperately move to his buttons to begin undoing them. He watches you fumble with his buttons and a smirk grows on his lips, “You that desperate huh?” He teases you and you shoot him a glare, “just help me.” He chuckles but you see his eyes grow dark with desire for you. “Yes ma’am” he quickly unbuttons his shirt and throws it on the ground. His bare chest almost leaves your mouth agape as you take it in. Your hands quickly find themselves foaming his chest as you pull him into another kiss by his hair, he moans at the tug and you smirk into the kiss. He moves his lips down the side of your face and down your neck as his hands slip under your dress and to your breast. He rubs your nipples between his fingertips and a moan escapes your lips. His lips make their way to your chest and then to your nipples taking your breast in his mouth leaving a trail of love bites as he makes his way down. He drops to his knees and pulls your dress up to your thighs. “What are you doing?” You ask, no man you’ve been with has ever wanted to do that. He smirks and looks up into your eyes basically pleading “I just wanna taste you.” You nod, speechless at how badly he wants you. He disappears under your dress and you feel his mouth begin to kiss up your thigh. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you gasp in surprise. The slow kisses teasing you and making your stomach tighten from anticipation “Remmick please” you cry and hold onto the tree behind you. You feel him hum onto your thigh in response as he licks his way up to your cunt and takes a good taste. “You taste so good darling” he whispers in his gravelly voice and continues to lick and suck on your pussy. You can’t take it anymore, your hands reach for him and pull him from his knees and into a messy kiss. You taste yourself on his lips and your hands make their way to his pants pulling his belt off. “I need you,” you beg. You unzip his pants and let your hands slip under, finding their way to massage his cock. He moans at your touch “bend over” he demands, and you look at him surprised. He turns you to bend over on the ground and his hands find your hair, you moan at the tug. He teases your entrance with his cock before slowly siding it into you. He feels so good inside of you. He thrusts deep inside of you and you can’t help the moans that escape your lips. “Shh baby we can’t have anyone hearing us.” He demands. You place your hand over your mouth to quiet your cries. You can feel he is close and so are you as he continues to thrust into you. “I’m so close” you cry and he moans at your voice. You are both nearing the edge and you’re both breathing heavy and as he pounds deeper inside of you. You feel yourself tighten, you’re so close. He leans down his lips kissing up your back and all the way to your neck as he thrusts into you. “Yes right there” you scream as you feel yourself finally release and you feel something sharp sink into the back of the back of your shoulder, it’s his mouth. His thrusts become sloppy as he finishes and you ride out the high together. Your body is feeling high from the moment and you swear you felt yourself black out for a moment as you finished. You let out a shaky breath, your heart is pounding and your skin is still burning from his touch. He slides out of you and lays down beside you.
“You taste so good darling.” He breathes out. There’s an undertone to his voice that you haven’t heard before and you turn to face him. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him. His mouth is covered in blood as he licks his fingers and lips. His eyes glow that same red that you swear you saw earlier in them. He looks at your slightly frightened and confused face and gives you a reassuring look. “Sorry I had to hurt you love but, you’re all better now I promise.” He kisses the spot where his teeth had sunk into a moment before. For some reason you didn’t mind, something in you had changed but you didn’t know what. You stare at the man beside you “I’m hungry.” He chuckles at that and he brings his mouth to your ear and whispers “I know how to fix that darling.”
@horror-moviehoe
102 notes · View notes
theartofwoompwoomps · 22 hours ago
Text
You do what now?…
Various Transformers x human!reader
Summary: we spoke about us receiving aggressive affection, but what about us doing the same.
——————————————————————
Knockout definitely won’t let you even think about biting him. He just got polished. He’s going to make sure you don’t even get near him the second he sees that glint in your eye.
He was cuddling with you as he rambled on about his day. Moments like these brought him so much peace. But clearly, it seemed you had another definition of peace.
Your head lowered a bit towards his arm. He wouldn’t thought anything if not for the way you seemed to hesitate opening your mouth. Your lips were pursed and your full attention on his paint.
His own instincts acted before you, quickly pushing you away as he threw a tiny pillow on top of you and ran.
“Awww knockout ! I wasn’t even gonna do nothing !” He could hear your voice in the distance but he wasn’t taking any chances, knowing you were now in a game of hide-in-seek. If he wasn’t careful your small mouth would definitely bit him if he’s not aware.
Optimus would be surprised to say the least.  Never once knowing humans did such a thing to others. Especially not their significant others. He’d probably ask the reason for your actions, mistaking it for an act of anger towards him.
One second he was holding you, the next he was looking down as you had your mouth on his digit. 
He didn’t move. Just watching as you a bit him. The thing was, you weren’t chomping or taking many bites. You simply bit him once and didn’t let go. He didn’t feel you put pressure on the bit, so you weren’t attacking him.
Then what were you doing? you didn’t even look up when you let go. Perplexed he wondered why’d you grabbed his attention only for you to ignore him.
Maybe it was a way to show you were upset? But it didn’t make sense, when he called out to you about it you weren’t upset. It was an act,… of affection
Honestly he didn’t understand but it made you happy so he just let you continue on.
Bee would probably encourage your aggressive behavior towards him. Letting you run into him and start random play fights while ofc always letting you win.
Bee was just walking around base. He didn’t really have anything planned. He was about to head back towards his quarters when he heard fast steps behind him.
As he turned around, he saw that you had jumped off the shelf road set for humans. Your smile wides as launched straight for him.
Stretching towards you to catch your small body, you randomly pulled a pillow from nowhere and threw it straight to his face. He fell and you landed on him. Giving him a quick peck before taking off. Hearing your voice quite far yelling a quick, “Love ya babe !”
Still on the ground he just let a small beep that sounded a lot like a sigh. He was totally gonna get you back for this.
Soundwave is always dumbfounded by your impulses. Mainly since you act before thinking a lot of the times. Causing him to not being able to know your next move. And since your cuteness aggression is always spontaneous he never predicts it.
You were on his berth with him. While he was desperately trying to hold his mask onto his faceplate. It had broken during a battle and knockout had yet to be able to attend him. Thus leaving him in the sad state of holding it up wherever he went.
But he trusted you. And he was tired from holding it the whole day. Lowering his mask he hears a small gasp from you. 
Feeling as a bunch of thoughts rush through you, he mainly notices your curiosity.
Lowering his face as he hands you his mask. You take it eagerly, your own eyes analyzing it and tracing every dent and detail.
But it wasn’t until he had his face in front of you he felt it change in your thoughts.
Your eyes no longer focusing on his mask, rather all your attention on his lower half of his face. At first he could feel all your thoughts, but now your mind was rushing so fast to the point he wasn’t sure if you were even thinking at all.
Noticing your breath pick a bit of pace, he wasn’t expecting you to launch his mask far from him. Your eyes wide as you rushed to reach him. 
Still surprised from the loud noise of his mask crashing onto the floor, what brought his attention back was your small mouth on his. All your emotions pouring towards him, he honestly didn’t mind it a bit. 
Now this was one impulse of yours he liked.
Starscream would surely love your attention. No matter how strange it is. He’d probably show off and brag about your actions to other decepticons. It would get to the point that the others think he’s making it up, mainly since most of them don’t think humans have cuteness aggression.
Funny thing is, recently you’ve been noticing a lot of things about your seeker. You hadn’t noticed before, but his wings tend to be very expressive.
Thanks to your request you were given a datapad that acted a lot as an ipad for a kid. You’re favorite feature was the camera settings. Thanks to being small no one noticed that you recorded a lot of things. Especially Starscream. 
You had a bunch of videos and pics of him. Looking through them was definitely your favorite pastime.
As Starscream got closer he heard you speaking with lots of emotion. You were talking too fast and changing volume constantly that he couldn’t really understand what you were saying.
Peeking a bit he saw you watching something on the datapad he got you. You were laying down with your stomach to the surface as your feet kept swinging in the air. You were really focused on whatever you were watching.
He was going to continue watching you in silence until he heard you yell out, “Oh.My.God! Why is he soo hot !” 
You were ogling someone and he didn’t like it one bit. 
Barging in making his presence loud and clear, you turned quickly hiding the datapad. “oh heyy starscream. I hadn’t realized you were here.” Your voice laced with nerves he saw your face reddened as you tucked the pad deeper under the pillow.
Not responding he grabbed the datapad against your small protest, as he opened it up to see who exactly was winning your heart.
He wasn’t expecting to find an edit of him that you made. 
Now you were both flustered.
———————————————————————
Masterlist 
65 notes · View notes
themothwhisperer · 16 hours ago
Text
Embrace the changes is my advice. A game and a tv show simply aren’t the same. They are not made the same and they do not offer the same advantages.
I feel kinda sad for the people out there that played and loved the game, but hate on the narrative changes they made for the show. Change was inevitable. Otherwise, why doing it? Making a carbon copy of something isn’t that valuable in my opinion.
That’s one of the main reasons why season 2 can arguably turn out to be better than season 1. Because what will come next is unexpected. It comes with a sense of surprise and mystery.
And that’s especially true when it comes to Ellie and Dina.
Tumblr media
With episode 4, the reaction seems to be quite divided and it’s honestly super fair, but it’s fundamental to understand how this relationship did a 180 for the televised version. The game was stability, consistency and maturity. The show is all about playfulness, confusion and tension.
The most common comment I see is about the sex scene. I’m sorry, but to have them getting intimate was necessary, especially for the fans of the game. Taking it out would’ve been wrong in many ways. And when you think about it, this was the only good timing for it. The weed scene simply couldn’t happen in the show because the pace of their relationship is drastically different here.
At this point in time in the game, they are official and comfortable. They are getting into this journey as a couple and it’s crystal clear. And because of this closeness they already have with each other, it was hinted that Ellie was immune. She reveals that information very early on. Even if Dina didn’t believe her, there is a little unconscious connection that clicked in her brain. It won’t be as shocking when she will be confronted to it.
In the show, however, they are tiptoeing around each other. Ellie has feelings for Dina and Dina knows about it, but she’s scared to dive in. She feels the same way, but her sexuality is still a bit of a challenge. She’s been told by her mother this wasn’t right. It’s a mess, basically. And if we compare the timelines, it becomes very obvious that the game and the show are not evolving at the same speed when it comes to this.
So here’s the thing tying back to the immunity question: When Ellie takes a bite to save Dina’s life (which is, by the way, such an exciting and romantic change), Dina’s world is crumbling down. The possibility of them being together dies instantly. She feels guilty because she didn’t speak up earlier. Now it’s ruined. She’s desperate and terrified and heartbroken. I’ve read many things about the lack of communication into this scene, but dialogue is not always key to boost the narrative. Actually, it pretty often does the opposite. Dina doesn’t ask questions because she cannot deal with what might be said, by herself and Ellie alike. It will make it so much worse when she actually has to pull the trigger. She can’t stand the idea of having Ellie voicing she’s in love with her. She can’t allow herself to let it all out either, probably thinking it would be unfair to Ellie. So she stays silent. She’s just crying and waiting for the worst to come. And the biggest difference with the game is how there is no prior connection in Dina’s mind to have a glimpse of hope. She absolutely cannot believe in the immunity claim. There is no way. That’s why she’s not asking about it or trying to hear Ellie out. Once again, it would only make it worse.
Release comes, however, in all the ways possible. Ellie suddenly wakes up, water dripping down on her and a few hours actually went by. She’s fine. And Dina staying silent is motivated by the fact that she’s in absolute shock. To her, there was only one way out of this. She was most likely already grieving Ellie. But now it’s different. Ellie is actually okay, the bite didn’t evolve and she’s evidently feeling well. Once again, she’s speechless, shaken to the core. What can we expect? She just walks very slowly towards her, taking it all in. The anxiety, the fear, it’s all washed away. What’s left is her overwhelming feelings for her. There is nothing that can get in her way now. She’s learned her lesson. And the only words she can actually verbalize is the fact that she’s pregnant. It’s the only thing she’s hiding from Ellie. And before surrendering to her emotions, she just says it.
Here again, I’ve seen things about the pregnancy announcement and my question is: How else would you want it? A pregnancy announcement is a pregnancy announcement. In the game, it actually broke my heart. How Dina is invalidated by Ellie like this. Ellie who’s completely blinded by her rage. I’m not saying a softer Ellie is necessarily better for the storyline, but I did enjoy that pure moment of innocence in the show. She’s taken aback, but she’s not judging. They’re 19 after all. They don’t know what it means and how they will deal with it, but they want to figure it out together.
So yeah, the sex scene makes so much sense. Dina is ready for them to be together, she perceives only love in Ellie’s reaction and she wants that closeness with her. She won’t waste another second. Having this scene happen later on would’ve been so odd. Ellie will soon torture an already dying Nora, she will be next level traumatized. Dina will most likely get sicker from her pregnancy. This was the perfect moment, considering the rhythm of this version.
Finally, if we want more Dina, that was the only way to go about it. They need to be extra close for it to make sense. Many people were disappointed (myself included) by the fact that Dina is sort of forgotten after Seattle Day One in the game. They fixed it. Let’s appreciate it.
(Can we also acknowledge the breathtaking performance Bella Ramsey and Isabela Merced delivered?)
79 notes · View notes
puprdou · 15 hours ago
Note
Hiiiii hope ur doing well ✨ can you write like angry sex with bfRindou, maybe like after a fight/argument, your writing is so good 🙈
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pussy loves me, bitch doesn’t!
contains. bonten!timeline rindou. smut. established relationship. pwp. fem!reader. rough sex. raw sex. mean!rindou. creampies. crying. arguing. intoxication. public sex. manhandling. voyeurism (ran...). unfaithfulness (?). jealousy (reader). choking.
A/N. tysm anon, i appreciate it! hope this is good enough ^^ tbh i couldn't think of any other reason why they would be fighting...... my bad
Tumblr media Tumblr media
you had learned far too quickly that, as his girlfriend, it was pointless to argue with rindou. the neither of you will ever win; it will only end in stubbornness and the two of you not talking for two days before going back to normal, with no apologies said.
and, this time was no different.
“my god, ’m not asking you to fuckin’ never talk to another girl again, ’m just askin’ you to stop letting girls kiss all over you and fuckin’ flirt with you at your club!” you yelled at him for the nth time this night, groaning loudly in frustration. once again, you had seen him come home with kiss marks along his neck, probably from random girls.
the girls never meant anything to him, you knew that. he never kissed back, he never flirted back, he never even let him kiss him on the lips. it was only really on his neck, and.. he let them sit on his lap; he never pushed them off, though. but he didn’t understand why you’re so upset about it! he doesn’t give a single damn about any of those girls!
“you’re being overdramatic.” he huffed, rolling his eyes. he was sitting leant back against the couch with his legs crossed, a hand rubbing his forehead to hopefully soothe his headache. “i’m being dramatic? i’ve seen girls grinding up all over you like whores! you shouldn’t be letting them do that!” you retaliated, your eye twitching.
“so a few cockhungry whores acted like cockhungry whores, that’s not my fuckin’ fault.” he rolled his eyes, his own voice raising in volume. you scoffed with wide eyes at him saying it wasn’t his fault. “i’m not saying that the reason they’re being sluts is because of you! ’m saying that they’re being whores and practically fuckin’ themselves on your thigh, and you don’t give a damn!”
“so what? i don’t fucking care about them! it’s not that big of a fuckin’ deal!” he yelled back at you, snapping. you simply groaned at him, stomping your foot and walking off somewhere else in the house, unable to keep arguing over this. how could he not care? did he not value your relationship?
it had been at least an hour, the two of you having not seen each other at all ever since your argument with him. rindou, had decided to go back to the club, after he heard his brother was there without him. he planned to just cool off, let out some steam and relax, have a few drinks; and that’s exactly what he did.
that was, until you had happened.
he heard some commotion outside of the V.I.P. room where him, his elder brother, ran, and a few random drunk girls were chilling, making him raise a brow. he was half-drunk right now, so his head was too fuzzy to register that it was your voice arguing to be let in with a man who was guarding the room with the blaring music in his ears. “ooh, rindou, you not gonna let your girl in? she sounds upset..” ran chuckled heartily, swirling a glass of wine in his hand, one arm slung over a girls shoulder who was sitting pressed against his side. that had caught rindou’s attention, away from the bottles of whiskey he’d been downing all night. “my girl? she’s here?” his eyebrow twitched, speaking up before his older brother got the chance to answer. “oi, let ’er in!” he huffed, shrugging the girl who has on his lap away from him, not ready to have to deal with you so soon after your argument. especially since he’s a whole lot meaner when he’s intoxicated.
his half-lidded eyes landed on your drunk and wobbling figure as you walked in, already glaring at him with your hands on your hips the second the doors had opened. it seemed that you, too, had come here to let off some steam and get drunk. and, by the seems of it, you were far more drunk than he was.
“what the fuck are you doing here?” his lidded eyes narrowed in response to your glare, ignoring his brother and the horny drunk girls surrounding the two, standing up. you were out there, alone, drunk, and vulnerable. why didn’t you just come to V.I.P. first thing when you arrived? he didn’t want to see you right now, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.
what if someone had touched you? or, worse, what if someone had taken advantage of your vulnerable state? he would never forgive himself if he let anything happen to you. he might not show it in the best ways, but you were his entire world, the love of his life. he would hate himself if he let something happen to you.
“iiiiii was having fun,” you slurred to him, flushed cheeks puffing out in an adorable little pout, lips puckered. “what the fuck is your problem? someone could have taken advantage of you like this.” he scoffed, placing his hands on your hips as he stood in front of you, pulling you against him. his grip was bruising, nails digging into the flesh.
“like hell you were,” he huffed. “you were just getting drunk cause you were pissed off at me.” he narrowed his eyes at you, suddenly picking you up off of the floor and into his arms, carrying you over to one of the couches in the V.I.P. lounge you three were at.
gasping as he picked you up, your arms shot up to his shoulders in a pathetic attempt to stabilize, and push yourself off of him with a pouty little whine erupting from your throat. as he threw you onto the couch with absolutely no care in the world for your comfort, you propped yourself up on your elbows and glared at him.
“what the hell are hic! ..you doing?” you questioned, hiccuping drunkly. he lazily sat between your legs, pushing you back down onto the cushions before spreading your thighs apart, making your eyes widen. “showing you that i only want you.” he looked down at you with narrowed, lidded eyes.
meanwhile, his elder brother, ran, watched with interest. there was still a girl, or two, now snuggled up to his sides, but you couldn’t really tell between your blurry vision and the bad angle you had. he simply chuckled, teasing his brother, “oh? brother, you gonna fuck that little cutie in front of me? how cute.”
“shut up.” rindou growled lowly, pushing your panties to the side, your legs spread around him as he kneeled between them, preventing your squirms as he undid his belt. he frankly couldn’t care who watched. you had chosen to learn your fucking lesson the hard way, and that was simply your fault.
“bet you won’t be able to make her cum in faster than two minutes.” ran proposed, watching the scene in front of him as his younger brother undid his pants, tossing his belt somewhere off to the side, lowering his boxers and his dress pants just enough to expose his cock, aligning the tip with your pretty pink pussy.
hearing that, rindou looked up from your body, hearing your whines as you desperately thrusted your hips back into him, wanting him inside already. was that because of the alcohol in your system? maybe. was it because you were also horny from seeing him so pissed off? 100%.
“21,500 yen that i can, in less than two minutes.” he countered back, hands digging into the plushy flesh of your thighs as he kept them apart, refusing to move, or even enter until this bet gets going. ran grinned, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and setting up a timer. “alright, 2 minutes. let’s see what you can do, little brother~”
he showed rindou his phone screen, before starting the timer. at the exact same moment, rindou slid himself inside of your tight heat, letting out a soft sigh at the feeling of your warm walls enveloping his hardened cock. not even letting you have a chance to adjust to his sie as he bottomed out, he began roughly rutting his hips into yours.
his eyes were glued onto your pussy, watching the way his dick slid in and out at such a mind-numbingly quick pace, your moans echoing off the walls with tears forming in your eyes. he leant down, kissing and biting along the column of your neck harshly, causing a whine to erupt from your lips.
“’s t-too muh—ah!” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as the tip of his dick repeatedly bullied your g-spot, whining and sniffling and tears rolled down your cheeks. he simply scoffed, rolling his eyes. he leaned back up, feeling your cunt clenching around him. his hand reached up from your thigh, wrapping around your neck suffocatingly.
“too much? awh, so sad. poor thing can’t even handle a bit of cock,” he mocked, your legs trembling around him. meanwhile, ran was plming and fist fucking his cock at the mere sound of your slutty moans, the disgusting plap of skin against skin, and the sight of you getting dicked down by his little brother.
his hand only tightened around your throat, a choked gasp escaping past your lips as tears continued to fall, walls fluttering around his length. your chest bounced with each thrust of his hips, little ’ah!’, ’ah!’, ’ah!’s slipping past your parted lips as his dick bullied it’s way through your insides.
“f-fuck—” he groaned lowly, his hips stuttering as he felt you gushing around him, creamy sustance creating a ring around his member as he continued to fuck into you, overstimulating your already wasted body. he released your throat, allowing you to breathe properly as his hand moved down to your clit, rubbing it in firm circles.
his thrusts grew more and more sloppy, as you begged him to stop being hiccups and whines, telling him that ’it’s too much!’ or how you can’t handle anymore, before warm ropes of his cum filled your insides, spewing into you and painting your womb white with his cum.
he panted, slowly pulling out of you and looking down at your now messy form, before an alarm went off. he wiped his sweaty ahir from his forehead, turning to look at ran with a now cheeky fucking grin on his face.
“i won. pay up, big bro.”
Tumblr media
© 2025 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔, all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, steal or translate my works onto other social media platforms.
54 notes · View notes
shortbcofkoffee · 3 days ago
Text
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 < Last
CW: Child abuse, parentification, cursing, the usual
Steph wasn’t too big on the idea of parents who try to kill their kids. Her dad had tried and failed, she sure as hell wasn’t gonna give him another chance. With that said, she wasn’t big on Bruce. He tried and almost succeeded in killing Jason. Like twice, if she remembered correctly. It wasn’t her place to forgive him, so she never did. Jason seemed okay with him now, so she was civil. 
That’s not to say she liked Jason either. He’d tried to kill her ex-boyfriend a few times. At least Bruce was paying for her college and apartment, Jason was just shitty.
But then Cass stumbled through the window of their apartment with tears in her eyes. There were a few things wrong with that. For one, Cass didn’t stumble. All of her movements were calculated and precise. For two, she was crying. Not to say that Cass can’t cry, she’s soft around the people she likes, but it’s rare to see. Steph rushed over to her to comfort her. Cass fell into her arms as Steph guided them to the couch. She ran a thumb across Cass’s wet cheek, wiping away her tears.
“Cass, babe? What’s wrong?”
Cass hiccupped and buried her face in Steph’s chest. “Tim,” she choked out. “Tim and Bruce… hurting him..”
Steph’s breath hitched. Something was wrong with Tim and Bruce, someone was hurt. Hurt enough to make Cass break up like this. They got hurt all the time, so what happened? Was someone about to die? “Okay. Okay, babe, I’m gonna need more info than that. But not right now. Let’s calm down first, yeah?”
Cass rubbed her eyes and pulled away. “Yes.”
Okay, Steph, she thought to herself, be a good girlfriend, do something. “Do you want some water?”
Cass nodded, and Steph carefully peeled herself away from the couch and into their kitchen. Assessment. Tim and Bruce were hurt. Someone was hurting them. If it were a field injury, she would’ve been informed already in their group message. That way, they could reroute patrols until the injured parties were ready to go back. And with Cass’s reaction, that injury would have to be near fatal. So that ruled out anything physical, which left mental. Or maybe this was a magic thing? Had they been cursed and it was something awful? A mental thing seemed unlikely, considering this was Tim and Bruce they were talking about. They were both brick walls of human beings. Well, that wasn’t fair. Tim was a pretty good boyfriend emotionally. Much better than the one before, at least.
She walked back to the couch with a cup of water and handed it to Cass, who downed it much too quickly. Steph was almost worried she’d choke. Cass put the cup on the coffee table and turned to Steph. She’d stopped crying, but her cheeks were still tear-stained. She took a breath and began to sign.
‘I went to Jason’s today,’ she started.
“Oh, fuck, what did he do this time?” It was always Jason, wasn’t it? It made sense, he made no effort to hide his disdain for Tim or Bruce. Even if they were civil now, catching Jason on a bad day was probably enough to set him off. But what did he do?
‘Nothing,’ Cass answered. ‘We talked. He…’ Her hands faltered. Another thing that rarely happened. ‘He explained to me that B was… is abusing Tim. Tim’s been hurting because of him, and I knew, and I did nothing. He was hurting, and I could’ve helped.’
Steph was not a fan of Bruce Wayne. She never had been and probably never would be. She still has nightmares from when he broke into her house to interrogate her father when she was eight. She still has nightmares about Black Mask. She has a lot of nightmares, stemming from simply knowing Bruce Wayne. But she knew him. And she knew that he cared about his kids. In a way, she’d never understand, but he cared. There were times when she doubted it, when they shouted at each other, when he got violent. When he tried to kill Jason. On Tim’s 16th birthday. 
There was no doubt in her mind that he was a bad parent, but an abusive one? Well… By all technical accounts, yes, but that was because of the hero work. No good parent would let their children be vigilantes. That could be somewhat excused. But he always liked Tim. They fought the least, he actually listened to Tim. He didn’t listen to anyone. She was a little jealous of that. And she really wanted to believe Cass, because why wouldn’t she, but
“Like how, like what kind of abuse?”
‘Emotional. Not like the usual emotional abuse, it’s different. He makes T pretend to be his father. He makes T comfort him. J said he groomed him.’
Steph grimaced. Because what the fuck. Bruce groomed somebody? Bruce groomed Tim? Had he been doing it the whole time, like even when they were still together? Like she knew he wasn’t a great person, but what the hell? She really didn’t want to be civil with him anymore. She didn’t even want him to pay for her stuff anymore. And it was to make Tim “comfort” him? What did that even mean?
“Oh, ew… It’s not like… It’s not sexual, is it?”
‘I don’t believe so.’
Okay good. Well, not good, but better. She thought. Was it better that it wasn’t sexual? She wasn’t one to play trauma olympics; she didn’t know. But this still wasn’t good, and like, where does one go from here? 
“So… what do we do? Are we gonna kill Bruce or something? Because he’s Batman, and there’s like too many logistical issues with that, but I wouldn’t be opposed. Like I have a plan to do it.”
She did. Because she hated him. And writing in detail how you’d kill somebody, and then burning that paper was cheaper than therapy. Which Bruce also probably would’ve paid for if she asked him.
Cass shook her head. ‘Intervention. For T, not B. We’re going to get him out of the manor and away from B. I don’t know where yet, but somewhere B can’t hurt him.’
Okay… that sounded good.
“But, like… what should we do about B? Break his legs or something? Or fuck with him a bit, mentally. Like he did to Tim. Or steal his spleen? Or cut his neck open. Like he’s done a lot of shit to us that he hasn’t been called out.” Cass frowned. “I’m being serious, you know how much I fucking hate the guy. If he wasn’t literally putting me through school and wasn’t you and Tim’s dad, I would’ve cut him out ages ago. And it’s not like we need him, specifically, as Batman anymore. Dick was an awsome Batman, that uber religious guy would’ve been pretty good if he wasn’t going through psychosis at the time. Hell, you’d be a great Batman, Cass! We don’t need Bruce, we could totally kill him or something!”
Cass put a hand on Steph’s cheek, stopping her mid-rant. Steph felt hot, angry. She could tell her face was red, and she hated it. She felt pathetic all of a sudden. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped an arm around Cass and pulled her closer.
“‘M sorry, Cass. Are you okay? He is your dad too, you probably don’t want to hear me fantasizing about killing him.”
Cass wrapped her arms around Steph in return. “It’s okay. Good to be angry. Means you care.”
“Of course I care! Even if I didn’t have the relationship with Tim that I did, he’s your brother. I’m gonna care.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “But seriously, what the hell? Dude, I was dating Tim forever, and I never noticed? I feel like such a piece of shit. And, like, I always knew there was something weird about them because, like, Tim always complained about the weirdest things. There was this one time for like a week straight, all he could talk about was how he yelled at Bruce until he had to literally drag him to the shower. I thought he was like exaggerating, but I guess not.” She leaned back, lying on the couch and pulling Cass on top of her. “And I guess I should’ve noticed when I was Robin, at least. Because Bruce was super weird about Tim then, too. He kept asking me super weird questions about him.”
A memory came to mind of when she came to the cave after school once. Back when she was still training. Bruce was at the batcomputer, looking at one of the small screens. She thought nothing of it at first, seeing it as a moment to pop up behind him to surprise him. It probably wouldn’t work, but if it did, it would prove she was good at stealth. Quietly, Steph put her backpack down and started walking as Bruce had taught her. Toes down first, lower yourself slowly with each step. That way, you made no noise when you walked. It took her a while to perfect, but she was getting good now.
She was a few feet behind him when she heard Tim’s voice, clear as day. “It’s okay. You’ll be alright, bud,” it cooed.
Steph frowned. She still hadn’t forgiven him for the whole “ kissing another girl” thing yet, and she certainly didn’t want to be reminded of who Bruce wanted her to replace right now. She started to walk again, but she must’ve misstepped because Bruce spun around so fast she thought his head might fall off.
“Stephine,” he frowned. Deep and disappointed, like she’d done something wrong by simply existing. Steph fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“What? I was trying to sneak up on you, and I got pretty close. That’s praiseworthy, right?”
Bruce closed the tab he was on. Steph peeked over his shoulder to see some security footage of the cave, but it was gone before she got a serious look.
“I suppose,” he said. “But Tim’s been able to sneak up on me since he was far younger. You’ll have to do better than “pretty close.””
In the present, Steph’s arms tightened around Cass.
“What… what exactly are like, the details? Like, what do you mean he makes Tim act like his dad? It’s for comfort, so like… what does that entail?”
Cass made a small sound and pushed herself away to sign. Steph should’ve expected that; Cass didn’t even like talking on good days, but she still missed the weight and warmth.
‘B is making Tim pretend to be his father. Helps him take care of himself. He calls him dad, and T calls him pet names. T scolds him and comforts him. Like a dad. Like what B does for Dami. Or a little different, Dami doesn’t really like physical affection.’
Oh, ew ew ew. “So he like makes Tim give him physical affection when he feels sad or whatever?” Cass nodded. Steph’s stomach turned. That explained what she heard in the cave that day. She didn’t want to imagine Tim cooing at Bruce of all people. Just ew! “Cass, that’s so fucking gross, oh my God.” She buried her face in her hands. “That’s so fucking gross. Holy shit, I wanna kill Bruce. How many hired guns do we know? Like enough, right? We don’t even need one, I could do it myself. I told you I had a plan. It’d take a little bit, the whole thing’s long-winded, so it’s not brought back to me.”
It also involved cozying up to a few rouges while avoiding the ones that had a crush on Batman, which was a surprising number. The bare bones basics of the plan were to overwhelm him, get him captured by one of the many rouges with a grudge, torture him for a little bit, then drop him dead in the middle of some street after putting acid in his cowl. That way, if it were taken off, no one would know it was Bruce Wayne. She burned the paper for a reason, though; it was one of her darker thoughts. She didn’t really wanna kill anyone, but she’d never hated Bruce more in this moment. She dragged her hands down her face and looked at the ceiling.
“I won’t do it. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could.” She turned to Cass. “I’m sorry, Cass. ‘M sorry your dad’s such a piece of shit. Are you okay?”
Cass started to nod, but her movements stuttered, and she shook her head instead. “No…”
“Okay.” Steph pulled her back into a hug, letting Cass bury her face in Steph’s chest.
It took a little while for the couple to travel to bed. Steph was adamantly against sleeping on the couch, it wasn’t great for the back. She never fell asleep though. She just stared at the wall and listened to Cass’ soft sleeping breaths. She debated killing Bruce again. She could, by all means. And could get away with it. But it’d eat her alive. There wouldn’t be a day that went by that she didn't hate herself. As much as she hated it, Bruce was right to not want them to kill. It’d take a toll she wasn’t ready to pay. None of them felt ready to pay it. She knew even Jason, for all his big talk, got uncomfortable when someone reminded him about all, or at least some of, the lives he took. The ones that didn’t deserve it. She knew it had destroyed Damian developmentally to the point he couldn’t go to school for a while after he showed up. It was one of the rare things Cass cried on her shoulder about. It had wrecked her. So the rule was one of the only things she respected Bruce for. 
And she wanted to kill him. And it could plausibly be quick if she went over to the manor right now. It wouldn’t be easy; you don’t just kill Batman, but that’s why she had a plan. It wouldn’t change what’s happened to Tim. Steph’s arms tightened around Cass. Cass, who might hate her forever if she did. Or maybe she wouldn’t. She’d understand, right? Would that matter? Of course, it would, but Tim mattered too. Steph should stage a kidnapping. Steal him away, maybe take him to San Francisco. They could live in Titans Tower if they needed to. But no, Bruce funded that too. Maybe they could just hide away in Alaska until Bruce finally keeled over. That wouldn’t work either. Tim was a workaholic to the core, he’d fight his way back to Gotham if he had to.
Steph nuzzled her face into the top of Cass’s head and sighed. No solutions tonight. She’d come up with something better than Jason’s intervention idea, maybe, probably, probably not. Tim was so… Tim. If an intervention was the only way to get to him, then she’d join, but surely there was something else. If there were, she’d try it. But he responded well to logic and evidence. If there was a fact, he’d believe it even if it destroyed him. Even if it was about himself.
Damian and Thomas were the two youngest in the manor. Damian supposed there should be some sort of kinship between them, but they were vastly different people. Their motivations were different. Damian preferred visual arts while Thomas was a writer. Damian patrolled at night, and Thomas in the day. There was a two-year difference between them. They never spent much time together. Thomas was in high school and Damian in middle school. 
Speaking of which, that's where they were going. Because of Signal, Thomas primarily took classes online, but he needed to take tests in person. This was one of those days. They were eating lunch together now, which was nice. Damian ate alone most days after using his entire social battery in class. They were sitting quietly for the most part while Thomas looked over his notes for his next test, but eventually, he broke the silence.
“Damian… what's gonna happen to us?”
Damian looked up from his sketchbook. “Hm?”
“Like if this gets to the point we have to be taken away from Bruce. What's gonna happen? I don't- I can't go back into the system.”
Damian hadn’t thought about that. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Who would they go to? Timothy was old enough to live alone without problems if he emancipated himself, and he would be 18 in just over nine months, but Damian and Thomas couldn't.
“Richard,” Damian said finally. “We could live with Richard.”
Thomas almost scoffed. “And move to Bludhaven? I mean, maybe you could, but even if I wanted to, does Dick even have the ability to house both of us? Does he even want to live with me?”
Damian's brow creased. “I do suppose our night activities would be more difficult if we moved. But what do you mean? Why wouldn't Richard want to live with you?”
Thomas shifted in his seat. “I mean, you know… Me and Dick aren’t that close. It’d be like if you moved in with him right after meeting him for the first time.”
Damian frowned. “I moved in with Richard quite soon after we met. When Father was stuck in the time stream.”
Thomas cringed a little. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I just don’t see your point.”
“The point is, I’m not as close to any of you. Like you guys are all siblings, and I just moved in a few months ago.”
Now that confused Damian. “If you’re worried about the legality of the matter, Richard wasn’t officially adopted until he was an adult. Timothy was also adopted much later either. The paperwork has little to do with our relationship.”
“I’m not talking about the paperwork, Damian. And I don’t want to be adopted anyway, I’m waiting for my parents to get better. I’m just saying we’re not that close. I’m not your brother.”
Damian hummed. He’d said the same thing about Timothy when they first met. And Todd and Richard, but they were his siblings all the same. He didn’t have siblings at first; he does now, and he’d come to appreciate them. Thomas was one of them. “If you say so. But I doubt Richard would have any qualms with taking us both in. He also had his issues with the foster care system.”
Thomas blinked in surprise. “Oh yeah. He did, didn’t he?”
“But you’re right, moving to Bludhaven wouldn’t work. Todd is legally dead, and he wouldn’t be a very good guardian anyway. That leaves us with Cain and Gordon.”
“The commissioner?”
Damian rolled his eyes. “Barbra.”
“We could run into some problems with that. Cause she’s in a wheelchair, but we’re old enough that it might not really matter.”
“And living with Cain and Brown may become a problem if Father stops paying for their apartment.”
“Could they even keep four people in their apartment? I think it’s like one bedroom.”
“Yes, that wouldn’t work unless they moved. Perhaps Timothy could pay for their new apartment. He is the Wayne Enterprises CEO now. He makes more than enough money to pay for everything.”
“Is it cool to ask Tim for money right now, though? We’re like, about to disrupt his life in a major way, the least we could do is get money somewhere else.”
“Yes, well, no one else in our family is actually rich. They’re all mooching off Father.” That wasn’t true, though, was it? “No. My mother is also rich.”
“Who, Talia? Isn’t she like… in the League? Is that who we want to get our money from?”
“She is not anymore. Not exactly. I don’t actually… It’s complicated. And we may have to if we have no other choice.” Was his mother with the League right now? He hadn’t talked to her in a while, it was unclear. Their alliances were always changing, it was annoying.
“Well, that’s good, I guess.”
Damian grimaced. “I hope we won’t have to share a room.”
“Yeah, for real. I couldn’t imagine sharing a room with you,” Thomas teased.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, you don’t seem like the easiest going roommate. You seem like the type to have an extra loud alarm clock that goes off at sunrise.”
Damian scoffed. “Well, you hardly seem like an easy roommate yourself. And why wouldn’t you wake up at sunrise, Mr. Day Bat? Don’t tell me you don’t prepare before patrol.”
“I prepare! And I wake up at the perfectly reasonable time. 6:30. 5:30 if I sleep at the manor.”
“Well, I don’t wake up until 7:30. If we were to share a room, I expect you to wake up at the same time. I think you’d need the extra beauty sleep too.”
“Oh, ha ha. Just because I’m not perfectly clear-skinned and pale like the rest of you freaky white people, doesn’t mean I’m not the hottest person in that house.”
“I’m not white. Neither Cassandra nor Richard. And she’s much more beautiful than you.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t count, Cass is like a literal angel. So I’m the best looking out of the guys at least.”
“Only because Richard doesn’t live with us. And don’t try to bring up Timothy, everyone looks better than him. Without makeup, he looks half-dead.”
“Hmph. Well, whatever. Point is, I wake up at a very reasonable time.” Thomas paused. “But now that I’m thinking about it, I think Babs is our best shot. She can make a super good case for herself. She has a house and a full-time job, and you’ve known her for a while.”
“Does Gordon even know what’s going on? Has anyone told her?”
“I mean… she’s O, she knows everything. She has to, right?”
Damian shook his head. “Not exactly. She isn’t constantly monitoring everything, she only looks when we ask or something is needed. It’s not as if she’s stalking us.”
Thomas gaped at him. “Shouldn’t someone tell her? Like soon? Like before we hold an intervention where we need evidence, like video evidence?”
Damian blinked. That made sense. Why hadn’t anyone contacted her yet? What in the world were they doing? “Do you have your phone? I think we should call her.”
“Uh, yeah, no shit.” Thomas fumbled to pull his phone out of his pocket. “Should I call her work phone or her day phone? Since we’re asking for information.”
“Either should be fine. But let’s go somewhere with fewer people.” The cafeteria wasn’t crowded, and no one was sitting within earshot, but better safe than sorry.
They went to the courtyard, sitting under a tree. Gordon picked up after the fifth ring.
“Hey, Duke. Is this important, because I’m at work right now.”
“Uh, yeah. It’s super important, but it’s not like urgent. Nah, it’s urgent but not right-this-second urgent. Also, Damian’s here.”
“Hello, Gordon,” Damian greeted. “There’s something going on and we found it pertinent to inform you.”
“Okay? Hey, Damian. Is this something for O, because you should’ve called the other line.”
“We don’t really know?” Thomas offered. “It’s complicated.”
“What is it?” she sighed.
“Okay, don’t freak out. But um… long story short, Bruce is abusing Tim, and we’re having an intervention eventually. But like me and Damian were wondering if you could scrape some security footage from around the manor so we could use it as evidence. And also, don’t freak out again, we were wondering if maybe you could take us in or help us in that area if this got weird and legal and we get taken from Bruce.”
“We have very limited options between you, Richard, and Cain,” Damian added.
It was silent on the other line for a full thirteen seconds. But a voice came through eventually.
“I’m sorry, I just…. Correct me if I’m wrong. Bruce is abusing Tim, and you want me to look for evidence? You also want me to possibly adopt you in case you’re both taken from Bruce’s custody?”
“Not adopt, but yeah, pretty much,” Thomas cringed.
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll look. And I wish you’d told me sooner. I’m assuming everyone else is aware.”
“I think so?” He turned to Damian. “Does Dick know?” Damian nodded. “Yeah, everybody knows.”
“Okay. I’ll scrape through footage when I get home from work. Thanks for telling me. But can you tell me what I’m looking for?”
“No problem. Uh… Basically, when Tim and Bruce are alone together, look for any weird hugs or something. If you find audio, that’s good. Tell Cass if you find anything. Or Jason, I don’t know. Probably Cass, yeah, Cass is better.”
Gordon made a small mm-hm, and hung up. Thomas turned to Damian and met his eyes before looking away. Damian could see him bite the inside of his lip.
“Thomas? What’s wrong?”
Thomas sighed. “Nothing, Damian. Just thinking about something.”
Damian hummed. “Well, lunch is over. I need to go back to class.”
Bruce was in the cave again. It was to be expected, honestly, Hell Week started this weekend, and he was already stressed as is. Tim didn’t know if he was happy about that or not. On the positive side, it meant he was out of Bruce’s hair for a while. He had time to breathe without thinking about Bruce pouting. In the negative, it meant Bruce was gonna be burnt out next week which was when he was supposed to go to Bludhaven with Dick. Oh shoot, he forgot to tell Bruce Dick was coming for Hell Week. That wouldn’t be a huge problem, but Tim cursed himself nonetheless. Bruce was a control freak if nothing else, and this meant he’d have a little less time to plan everyone's patrol routes. Not even a full day less, like 14 hours. 
Tim groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He had something to seriously look forward to. He was going to Bludhaven with Dick for a photography expo, he could meet people there. If he ever decided to get back into photography, that is. He didn’t mean to drop the hobby, but vigilante work, being a CEO, and taking care of Bruce were a full-time job. Tim barely had time to sleep, let alone pick up a camera. He missed it. He didn’t even realize he missed it until Dick called him. Photography was the one thing Tim had when he was younger, everything else was for someone else. For his parents, for other socialites. Tim loved it, and he’d left it behind.
Tim looked down at the spread of photos beneath him. They were all old, nothing from the past year. He couldn’t make a full portfolio with year-old pictures. They were good, obviously, he cared deeply about how each turned out, down to the last pixel. But they were old, and what if someone actually tried to contact him afterwards, and he lost his touch? He’d actually die of embarrassment. He had to go out and take some more, he only had a little over a week to update his portfolio.
His camera was right where he left it, a shelf in his closet. The bag it was in had collected dust, and Tim felt a little pang in his heart. If there was a speck of dust on the lens… he didn’t know what he’d do. He would’ve never let that happen before. He’d never gone this long without touching his camera. It felt heavy in his hands. It felt familiar. Tim smiled to himself and pulled his phone out.
‘I’m going out for a little if you need me, but I’ll be back in like 2/3ish hours,’ he texted Bruce.
Bruce texted him back a thumbs-up.
Tim tossed the bag strap over his shoulder and headed to the garage. He should probably take a bike rather than walking or riding his skateboard. He turned a corner and almost bumped face to chest with Alfred.
“Oh! Hey, Alfie,” Tim said.
“Master Timothy,” Alfred greeted. “Master Bruce has been in the cave for over ten hours. If you’re not busy, I was hoping you might find a way to coax him out.”
Tim’s heart dropped. He knew he should, if Bruce made a habit of staying down there all the time again, it’d be hard to break him out of it. And he’d be down there a lot in the next few days. But Tim wanted to go out. He wanted to take photos while he still had time. Alfred frowned at his lack of an answer, and Tim’s chest felt tight.
Bruce was downstairs. He should deal with that. Alfred wanted him to. Tim had a responsibility here, and yet here he was, trying to get out of it. Tim should help. He should, that’s why he’s here. He felt disgusting.
Tim gulped. “Um, I’m really busy. But I’ll be back in a couple hours, so I’ll get him then.” He quickly walked around Alfred. “See you later.”
He just stared forward until he was on one of his bikes and a few hundred feet away from the manor gates. He couldn’t believe he did that! He had a job. He came here for a reason, he entered Bruce’s life with a purpose. One he was denying. And even if he’d just said no to Bruce, which was hard enough as is, he said no to Alfred. No one said no to Alfred. 
Well, that was part of why Tim was here. He was supposed to help Alfred with Bruce. Bruce was their kid, Tim was supposed to help take care of him. So he and Alfred were on equal footing; he could say no to him. 
It wasn’t a good justification.
Tim said no to Alfred. He wasn’t doing his job. He just wanted to take some pictures, he needed to update his portfolio. It’d be okay if Bruce were down there for a few more hours. He should turn around. He should go to the cave and get Bruce to eat or go to bed or something. He should, he knew he should. 
But then he probably wouldn’t make it out again today, and the thought of being home alone with Bruce for hours. And Bruce had been getting worse lately, not by leaps and bounds, but still noticeably. And if Tim just let him be, he didn’t even want to think of what would happen. And something would happen. Bruce was a ticking time bomb of a person. Tim’s purpose was to snuff out his fuse whenever it got close to lighting. And he wasn’t doing his job!
The self-aware part of his brain told him Bruce would be okay for a few hours. Time blends together in the cave, Bruce would barely notice the time passing. But then, if Bruce looked at the clock and thought Tim had abandoned him while he was depressed in the cave, Tim wouldn’t forgive himself. He wouldn’t notice. Because Bruce had alarms that went off to notify him of anything important, so as long as Tim was back before patrol, Bruce wouldn’t mind. It was just a few hours. Bruce would be fine for a few hours, he wasn’t a baby. And he was working, he wouldn’t even notice. 
Tim wanted to throw up as he got off his bike at the park. It was a relatively nice day for Gotham. No sun, as per usual, but the layer of cloud was thinner. Tim took a grounding breath. He was here for photography. The perfect shots. He took his camera from the bag and turned it on. He always made sure to charge it before putting it away, so it was still at full battery. He aimed it at a tree and opened the settings. He needed to adjust for the light and color balance. 
It felt nice, it was all familiar, and he felt everything else fade away. He found a few snails to capture close-ups of. He didn’t have a lot of wildlife pictures; most of his old ones were cityscapes he captured on the high roofs of Old Gotham. He found some more small animals. He was sure he could find some rodents if he went to an alley or subway. Maybe he could find Ivy’s garden. She was in Arkham right now, so she wouldn’t be there.
He fell into a rhythm, finding nice things at the park and a few of the busy downtown streets before hopping on his bike and riding down to the docks. He liked the docks. They were quiet, away from people. And if he came at the right time of day, the sun on the water was beautiful. Tim knew better than to get too close to the water; it was probably the most cursed, if not polluted, body of water in the world. He got some good shots of the boats. 
He could probably get the skyline from the WE building, so that was his next stop. He was dressed in casual clothes when he entered, different from the suit his employees were used to seeing him in. The old lady at the front desk, Mrs. Samuel, beamed at him when she saw him.
“Look at you, Mr. Drake. Finally dressing your age.”
“Hi, Mrs. Samuel,” Tim said, digging in his pocket for his employee card. “I forgot to tell you, but I really loved the cookies you brought to the employee party last month. They were really good, did you make them yourself?”
“Oh, you flatter me, Mr. Drake,” she smiled. “Yup. With my own two hands. I’ll make you a batch of your own since you loved them so much.”
Tim finally found his card and scanned himself in. “Really? Thanks, I’d love that. Bye, Mrs. Samuel.”
“Have a good day, Mr. Drake.”
Tim waved back at her and headed to the elevator. There was a helicopter pad on the roof, but there probably wasn’t a helicopter up there at the moment. He talked to a few more people on his way up, a couple asked about his camera. Tim actually really liked his employees, even if they tended to baby him sometimes. He kind of expected that, most of them were in their mid-thirties and/or parents at least, and he was still 17. They treated him seriously when they needed to, and that’s what mattered.
Once he was on the roof, he sighed. It was nice and quiet up there. And he could see the rest of the city pretty well, since this was the tallest building. The pictures up here were beautiful. Gotham was beautiful. The architecture, the noise, the people. Tim loved it here. He took a picture of the skyline. The WE building stood out from the others in Old Gotham. It’d been renovated to look more modern after the earthquake, so now it stood out from the surrounding 19th and 20th-century Gothic architecture. It was weird to look at, and a great contrast, so a great picture. Tim got a few more pictures as he left. 
As he was walking to his bike, his phone buzzed. Dick had texted him. It was a screenshot of a tweet with the caption “Tim Drake, WE CEO, spotted with camera at park.” There was some more text about him taking pictures. Dick sent another text.
Feeling excited? :)
I have to update my portfolio
Just finished taking pics, gonna head home to edit now
Coolio
I’m about to head over in a few hours so i’ll be there tonight
You’re coming early? I thought you wouldn’t be here until Sunday
Nope! Coming tonight
C u soon >3<
Tim frowned at his phone. Okay, so he really needs to tell Bruce then. Shit, he has to tell Bruce. He left Bruce in the cave before he left and he’d been running around for four hours. He totally forgot! How did he let himself forget, he had to go home. Tim drove back to the manor, a little faster than he probably should. He pulled into the garage and went straight to the library, passing Duke and Damian as they arrived home from school. When he entered the cave, Bruce was sitting at the computer, analyzing data from the strain of fear toxin they had stolen. 
“Hey, B,” Tim started carefully. They had a couple hours before patrol. Tim’s goal was to get him out of the cave before then. “What’s going on?”
Bruce looked up at him. “Reverse engineering. Trying to figure out the similarities between this and other strains. So far, it seems very similar to the true base form. There are no hallucinations, but it raises glutamate levels while slowing the release of adrenaline. Essentially making you feel trapped while your brain tries to make your body panic.”
Okay, well, that wasn’t good. “So if someone was dosed without knowing, it’d seem like intense paranoia and confusion with no source.”
Bruce nodded. “There may be other effects. I’m not done yet.”
Tim hummed. “Well, you can take a break. We need time to eat and do warmups before patrol, plus Duke and Dami just got home. You should ask them about their day.”
Bruce looked at the time and grimaced. “Yes. Give me thirty more minutes, I’ll finish up.”
“Okay, well, first, you’ve been here since yesterday. You need time to recharge before patrol. Secondly, thirty minutes down here is like two hours to the rest of the world, and the rest of the world is where you need to be right now. Especially since Dick is coming to dinner.”
That caught his attention. “Dick is coming?”
“Yeah. He’s gonna help for Hell Week, so even if it gets too busy, Damian and Duke can still go trick-or-treating.” Bruce looked between the stairs and the computer. “I’ll finish up down here, B, go spend time with your kids.”
Bruce looked between Tim and the computer a few more times, clearly debating what to do. It shouldn’t be a debate; Tim would much rather be spending time with Duke and Damian than working on this. Finally, Bruce started to walk to the steps. He mumbled a thank you to Tim as he passed, and Tim just smiled. When Bruce closed the grandfather clock behind him, Tim sank to his knees. 
Bruce hadn’t noticed. Of course he wouldn’t have, Tim wouldn’t have noticed either. The cave was like a time capsule, he didn’t need to worry about being late. He’d stressed himself out over nothing. He worried himself to almost throwing up for no reason. He wouldn’t be in trouble if he’d stayed out later. He could’ve, he had the freedom to. 
But Bruce was getting worse. He was, Tim knew he was. But Tim hadn’t even had any physical contact with him today. He was just busy, that was why. They both were, they just hadn’t seen each other. But they just had, and they were alone, and Bruce hadn’t even tried to at least touch his shoulder. All he did was say thank you. That wasn’t like Bruce. Bruce needed affection, especially when he was on edge like he had been for the past week or so. Was their conversation yesterday really all Bruce needed? He didn’t need anything else out of Tim? 
Tim didn’t know how to feel about that. He knew he should feel glad, probably, maybe. A happy Bruce was what Tim was striving for, so why did he feel like this? It was fine. It was. They were just both busy today. And Tim didn’t want Bruce to touch him. He hated the feeling of Bruce’s heavy hands and his almost palpable sorrow. He hated it so much. But Bruce hadn’t tried anything in the one interaction they had. But it had only been one interaction. They still had dinner, pre-patrol, patrol, and post-patrol to get through. It’d be okay.
It was good that Bruce had asked for nothing. It was good that Bruce hadn’t noticed how much time had passed. It was good that Bruce was hanging out with his kids. It was good that Bruce was happy. Tim didn’t want Bruce to hug him. He didn’t want Bruce whining and sulking and looking at him like a kicked puppy. This was good. Bruce was good. Tim was good.
He was.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 < Last
45 notes · View notes
moonybelgug · 2 days ago
Text
warnings: !MDNI! fem!reader, sub!anaxa, dom!reader, pegg!ng, cro$$dres!ng, ooc anaxa? possibly. this was funny to me so i wrote it down and now i share it with my lovely munchkins, idk what words tumblr has blocked so im just gonna censor every word that makes me raise an eyebrow. uhhhhhhhhhhh idk what else to tag. not proofread lmao.
Tumblr media
“I don’t think you fully understand my creative vision,” you say, trying to keep your face convincingly serious. Anaxagoras wasn’t buying it.
You two stand in silence once more before you continue your argument for the idea.
“Aglaea will never recognize you if you’re wearing a dress- because *you* would never do that!”
Again, Anaxa stands there, arms crossed, one hip timed to the side as he stares at you in utter bafflement. Beside you, Hyacine can’t contain her laughter.
“Please, master?” She asks with her best puppy eyes. “I think her plan will work, we just have to trust each other!”
Anaxa’s steely mask cracks at the words of the girl in front of him and he turn his gaze to you, who is attempting to look innocent, but are making a fool of yourself.
“If you truly think it only takes a dress to fool the *dressmaker*, you are surely besotten,” he says sharply. You hand him a wig and a pair of heels. He snatches them from you and stomps away.
As much as he’d like to defend himself in this situation, he has no other reason to be angry doing this than out of sheer petty. Sneaking into a feast just to steal a plate of food… he’s sure if the two of you asked, Agalaea would have accommodated you, but you were slower sometimes, especially when it comes to social cues and Hyacine is one of your few validators. And then there was that damn dress… to say he was entirely repulsed by it would be a lie. He knows he looks good, he knows he has a lithe build, a *frail* one at that. And he knows how much you eyeball his waist when he’s doing menial tasks. It makes him feel warm, despite all reason. Despite the two of you already being some sort of relationship already. Anaxa knows what makes your cogs turn and you know his. He knows you love arguing with him, so the encounter before was simply foreplay. And here he is, wearing a dress and sneaking into the back of Aglaea’s party. The dress is almost the same color as his hair and it’s silky and breathable. One side is hitched up to reveal his leg, his knee leading down to his decorated ankle. His heels are one of the popular shoes in style at the moment and the hairpiece is a snowy white color that reminds him of one of his students and covers his hidden eye. He makes a bee-line for the food table. As pretty as he felt, his stomach couldn’t stop doing flips. “A dromas dressed in finery,” he hears someone chuckle among the crowd. It makes him stop in his tracks before he continues onward, never forgetting his mission. As he’s loading the plate, he begins to question where it went wrong.
Why am I here?
Why am I doing this for them?
Do they really think they can tell me what to do?
I wonder if anyone recognizes me…
Why did I allow this?
Maybe she’ll let me keep the shoes…
He sighs, finishing the masterpiece of an artfully stacked food plate and he places another atop it to keep it from flying away. He smirks to himself.
“Too easy,” he chuckles, turning on his heel to leave.
Aglaea.
She’s staring at him with cold eyes, her fingers tapping against her cheek. Usually he would glare, but he’s not supposed to be him right now, is he? Anaxa diverts his eye contact and takes a different exit before breaking out in a run. The two girls behind the stupid idea peak up from their hiding place, a grin on each face. Anaxa falls behind the bush between the two and he shoves the plate of food in your hands. “There. Now get me home.”
You lay on his bed as he dries himself from the small bath he had just finished bathing in. He didn’t seem to hold the same affinity for baths as the other Crysos Heirs, but perhaps he did without expressing much about it.
“You looked really pretty today,” you say with a suppressed grin. He really did stun you. Every day he does, something new and beautiful every day. He grumbles something under his breath as he turns his back on you, standing in front of a full length mirror to dry his hair.
“You should put it on again,” you say, watching his reflected expression. He’s blushing madly and his eyes are squeezed shut.
“And why would I do that?” He asks through grit teeth.
“I want to show you just how pretty you are. Is that so bad?”
Anaxagoras is on his back, fingers clutching the sheets as you suck him off, your hands squeezing his thighs apart to keep him from accidentally knocking you in the head. His eyes are screwed shut but every twist and flick of your tongue has them rolling back. Your other hand is occupied alternating between stretching him open and massaging his balls, fingers reaching for his prostate, rubbing at it before pulling away just a little too soon. He curses your name and then blesses it, opening his legs and then squeezing them around your head. You commanded him to touch his chest during this but that was easily forgotten as soon as you started fingering him.
The dress is bunched up around his hips and pulled down from his collar bone to expose his fished chest. He insisted on the heels if he was to wear the dress and what started as soft praises and kisses turned into.. this. His hand reached for your hair but you catch it, pushing his lithe wrist to rub his palm against his abdomen, further teasing himself.
Anaxa hates sex. He can’t be composed, nor can he overpower without begging before the act, nor can he use this for his research, nor does it aid in clearing his mind of you at all. And to be brought to his knees by mere pleasure stimuli and not someone he has determined the on the same level as himself is truly humbling. You have complete power over him and the fact he could best you in every academic endeavor could not matter less in this environment. The smartest thing to do would be to submit.
He places his heeled foot against your shoulder and pushes with all his might and it works. You complain mildly but then you hook his legs over your shoulder, mindlessly kissing his ankles as he feels the strap that you had put in earlier catch on his hole. He bites his lip as it pushes against him, his eyelashes fluttering. This is humiliating, he thinks, as he always does.
Anaxa angles his hips to take the strap a little deeper before you still him and push his legs up further, his knees on each side of his head. You kiss him deeply and that brings the first vocal moan from him, his eyes rolling back as you penetrate his soft hole. He can’t move, he can’t think, he is rendered completely at the mercy of this person who just fell into his life. Brilliant.
You thrust into him softly at first, but you’re quickly emcouraged to go faster by him tugging on your hair and biting at your lips. You whisper to him to calm down but that only makes him more insistent.
You often get distracted during sex, especially when he’s bottoming. His eyes are so pretty you just fall right in. When you nuzzle into his neck and inhale the scent of his hair, you loose yourself. When you kiss and he draws his tongue against your teeth and lips, you find yourself pressing closer and closer, stilling your hips but lapping at his tongue as though his mouth were ambrosia and you, a dying man. He knew you got distracted but he just chalked that up to you being careless. He’d pinch your cheek or arm and pull you back into reality. You feel him pinch your cheek as you reminisce on this.
Anaxa’s body, lithe and curved with little muscle.. you reel back and hold his legs as you begin a steady pace, eager to pleasure him, make him have positive memories to associate with today and this dress. Perhaps if you do a good enough job, he’ll wear it for you again…
35 notes · View notes
friendlyrandomperson · 2 days ago
Text
Oh, dear.
“Eddie, Dear, I don’t mean to pry, but I do wonder, what do you like about Frank?”
“Heh, I don’t mind at all Poppy. I uh- guess I never really thought ‘bout it.”
”Well, what is it you like the most about him?”
“He’s kind, he’s smart, and he’s real interestin’.”
A sheepish smile works its way onto the mailman’s face.
“He’s gorgeous too.”
“Every day I tell ‘im that. I don’t need to, but I do anyway. He don’t know everythin’ I like about ‘im.”
“Like what, Dear?”
“The way his eyes light up when a pretty critter flies by, or pops up on Lyco or Sol. Y’know, the tomater plants?”
”Ahh, yes!”
”The way his voice carries through the air, so smooth and so sweet. The way he laughs, his smile looks like it’s reachin’ for the heavens.”
Eddie smiles, he cheeks growing warm.
“…Oh, that smile o’ his. It’s adorable; his cheeks go even more red than usual, if you can believe it.”
”Oh, I couldn’t possibly believe that!”
”It’s true! He grows redder than an apple in an orchard! Heh, it’s sweet.”
”Well, now I can understand you dearie.”
”I’m glad, Pops! Although.. I am wonderin’, what’s got you all curious?”
”Oh! Well I uhm- Oh feathers, I suppose you should know. It’s about Frank, you see; I overheard him at Howdy’s talking to someone … oh who was it now.. ah yes! He was simply gushing over you to Julie, and I wondered what you had to say about him!”
Poppy glances over at the clock and squawks, shooing Eddie out of the door with frantic apologies as she had not realized how late it had gotten.
The door shut behind Eddie, who had only just now had time to process what Poppy has said.
In the darkness of the evening, Eddie’s heart skipped a beat. He never knew Frank was so.. vocal about how much he cared. Eddie wonders what Frank thought about him. He wasn’t much, just a simple mailman doing his job.
Frank? Frank was everything. Oh, he was just wonderful. Thoughtful, sweet, punctual, organized, the best man that the world had to offer.
And to think that he chose Eddie. It’s enough to get the redhead’s heart pounding, his face going from lightly tinted red, like the soft glow a Homewarming light would cast, to full blown Lyco in the Summertime red.
Speaking of the mailman, he realized he had not moved, and according to his watch, it was 7:30 at night and he should probably get going.
——————
“EDDIE?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE?!”
A high pitched, peppy voice startled the local mailman just as he had put his foot out, causing him to stumble and fall down Poppy’s stairs, landing on the grass below.
Fast, light footsteps approach Eddie, followed by being picked up by his shirt collar in a manner similar to a cat being picked up by its scruff. His eyes meet the eyes of no other than Julie Joyful, the town’s Rainbow Monster and the most peppy neighbor there is.
Fast, slightly louder footsteps follow, and he sees his spouse running up to Julie, who is still holding Eddie like a cat.
”Mr. Dear?”
Soft, gentle.
“What are you doing out here so late? I thought you were back at the Post Office.”
Kind, amused.
“Heh, well I uh—“
”Oh Frank, that doesn’t matter at all! He’ll have to stay at your place tonight.”
Without letting the entomologist or the mailman speak up about the whole situation, Julie marches over to Frank’s doorstep and plops Eddie down straight onto the Welcome mat, brushing her hands together, up and down, before brushing off her dress and placing her hands on her hips.
Turning her head around to meet the out of breath man behind her, Julie grins.
”Well Frankie, I gotta go now. Bye! Bye Eddie! Have fun at your sleepover!!”
Julie runs off, waving behind herself before her door slams shut, leaving Frank and Eddie alone outside, the sound of the crickets providing a pleasant melody to the night. A soft smile pulls at the edges of the standing man’s face as he walks over and gently takes the taller man’s hand in his own.
”Come inside, dear. It’s late.”
——————
An hour passes, and now, our neighbors are sporting their pajamas; Frank in a lavender two piece with a silk bowtie, and Eddie simply in a white t-shirt and purple pants, their limbs intertwined as they lay on the couch, the only light coming from one of the lamps on the small table beside the plush couch, a small little wooden thing on the right. Frank has his head resting on Eddie’s chest, the smaller man’s breathing stable, slow, and quiet. Peaceful. His eyes are closed, but he is not sleeping, no, sleep will not come to him. He is awake, but Eddie has no clue. The orange man has been stuck not moving for five minutes because he does not want to wake up our grey neighbor!
Eddie hears a soft voice, muffled and unclear.
“Mmnn.. you’re quite comfortable, did you know this?”
”What was that, pumpkin?”
Frank smiles groggily at the pet name, lifting his head to look up at his boyfriend.
“You’re very comfortable. Did you know this?”
Eddie’s face flushes red, a giddy smile appearing on his face as he covers it with his right hand.
”Aww, shucks darlin’ I- can’t say I did-!”
Frank snorts, shoving his face back into Eddie’s chest to muffle his laughter, the lanky man’s shoulders shaking. The broader man looks at his partner in admiration.
Wow. His partner.
Wow.
A deep whisper.
“I’m so lucky to have you..”
Frank’s face flushes crimson, glancing up and accidentally startling Eddie. His expression and blush softens, his mouth curving into a gentle smile as he cups Eddie’s face with his right hand, his thumb mindlessly stroking his cheek. A small giggle escapes Frank; Eddie just looked so cute. He always did.
”I say I’m luckier.” Frank responds, amused by Eddie’s flustered expression right after.
A peaceful silence washes over the two, both of them smiling, each detail of the other’s eyes being noted. The way the other’s eyes shine in the light, the way their eyes squint when they smile. Eddie glances down at Frank’s lips and pauses.
Is it too soon to ask?
The tips of his ears grow red at the thought. There was something so… special about it. Frank was rarely physically affectionate outside of cuddling or holding hands with the larger man, would Frank even consider it? Eddie would never want to overstep, he cares for Frank, and the thought of making him uncomfortable was far too much.
Eddie’s nervousness did not go unnoticed; the thinner man follows his gaze, figuring out that he is staring directly at his lips.
Oh, that’s odd, what could he possibly—
Oh.
Frank decided to glance down at Eddie’s lips, noticing how Eddie is biting his bottom lip.
“That’s cute..” Frank thinks, his smile growing just a smidge.
”I.. uh— darlin’, can I ask you somethin’?”
Eddie’s voice was low, hesitant, like one wrong word would shatter everything. This was a large thing to ask, even if they have been dating for 8 months.
“Of course, dear.”
“Can I- uhm…”
Eddie looks away from Frank’s lips, choosing to look at the floor instead.
”C’mon Eddie, you can do this!!”
Eddie takes a deep breath in, his eyes pressed shut, trying to calm himself down enough to let the words fall out.
He turns back to Frank, meeting his eyes and nervously glancing back and forth between the floor and him, before settling for keeping eye contact. He wasn’t talking to the floor!
”Can- May.. gosh… May I.. kiss you, please?”
Frank snickers quietly, nodding gently.
”Yes, Eddie.”
Eddie’s face immediately lit up, his nervousness going down just a little bit.
”You mean it?”
”I mean it.”
Frank’s smile was gentle, but eager, as if he had been waiting for this moment for years. In a way, he had. They both had feelings for each other for a very long time, five years to be exact, before they got together.
Eddie shuffles, sitting up and making sure Frank was comfortable. Once he noticed Frank was perfectly fine, he places his hands on his shoulders lightly, careful with his movements.
He then realized that he had absolutely zero clue what he was doing.
Oh no.
Eddie did not think this through at all, did he?
“Are you alright, dear?”
”Uhh- yep! Fit as a fiddle!”
Frank places his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, mimicking his partner.
”I should probably close my eyes.” Frank realizes, noting that he probably seemed quite silly keeping his eyes open, furrowing his brows slightly.
”If you don’t wanna, that’s alright!” Eddie assures, loosening his grip on Frank’s shoulders.
Frank’s eyebrow raises quickly, his expression changing into something more surprised.
”No, no I want to, it’s just..”
Frank hesitates, his eyebrow furrowing once more, glancing down at Eddie’s neck.
“I’ve never done this before.”
All of the tension immediately washed away, replaced by a wave of relief. Eddie sighs, a soft smile replacing his concerned frown.
“Phew, I thought I was the only one!”
Frank’s head shoots upward, his mouth agape and his eyebrow so far up it might as well have flown off.
Eddie laughs, placing his hands back on Frank’s shoulders.
”I was worried I’d disappoint ya!” The man exclaims, his eyes shimmering in the soft orange glow of the lamp.
Frank stifles a laugh at his boyfriend’s reaction, tightly closing his eyes and covering his mouth with his right hand, his shoulders quivering as he tries to hold himself together. He opens one eye to see Eddie, who is looking at him with his eyebrows raised. Once Eddie notices Frank is looking at him, he wiggles his eyebrows and causes Frank’s held together attitude to crack, his laughter so carefree the world seemed to slow, even if just for a moment. Eddie had the opportunity to simply admire the beauty he could call his spouse. The way his shoulders shook, the way his eyebrow furrowed, the way his eyelashes turned up as if they too were smiling.
Frank finally caught his breath, sighing before he shimmied a little bit, sitting up a little straighter, just like before, gazing at his partner with the kindest smile in the world.
”Are you ready?” Frank inquired, his hands limp on Eddie’s shoulders.
Eddie tightens his grip on Frank’s shoulders just a little, firm but not harsh.
“If you are.”
Frank closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, slowly letting out the air and his worries, opening his determination filled eyes. He leans forward just a tad, the distance between their faces so close it taunted them both.
Eddie slightly moves forward, bumping his nose into Frank’s.
“Oh- snrk- sorry darlin’ I-“
”Pff- It’s okay, it’s okay-“
They both giggle for a moment, falling into a calm silence for just a second before Frank spoke up.
”Maybe..”
He turns his head to the right, just enough to prevent their noses from bumping again. Eddie does the same, just to the other side, closing his eyes and pausing, waiting for anything to tell him that Frank was ready. Frank exhaled softly, closing his eyes and also signaling to Eddie that this was okay.
Eddie leans forward, their lips pressing together hesitantly at first, accidentally knocking their teeth together and pulling back to fix it, but soon the two relaxed, Frank wrapping his arms around Eddie as the kiss lingered for a moment, Eddie pulling back as he forgot to breathe. Frank snickers softly at this, before being cut off with another, less awkward smooch, their lips parting slightly as they molded together, a smile growing on both of their faces.
Aside from being an amazing and attractive person, Eddie likes another thing about Frank; he’s a great kisser.
42 notes · View notes
glamourscat · 2 days ago
Text
GLAMOUR DIY: Step 1 – Condition(er) Your Soul | ARYU JYUBEI X READER
In which Aryu Jyubei appoints himself as your stylist, saviour and inevitable fashion soulmate and you really just wanted to do your job.
when I saw I’m obsessed w him? I literally mean it. My blog is named after Aryu. My glamorous king😭 he is so underrated
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
How glamorous. Thats the first thing that came to mind when Aryu saw you for the first time. Now, to be fair, glamorous wasn’t exactly a new adjective in his vocabulary, but if you knew him, you know that he doesn’t give it out so easily.
The moment he spotted you his eyes sparkled with a strange feeling. He could hear Aiku and Sendou snickering to each other in the background but that’s not what mattered. What mattered was you. You, so ever graceful individual, dressed in such a distasteful manner. Oh, his poor, innocent eyes.
What a shameful sight, a radiant being like you wrapped in a fabric catastrophe. Those colors? Clashing. That cut? An affront to symmetry. It was a sin against aesthetics, and he, Aryu Jyubei, the apostle of glamour had no choice but to act. It was his duty.
“Ah, my dear. You’re the new manager, isn’t it?” His voice smooth and elegant as always as his long legs carried him effortlessly towards you, towering over your frame, as his long fingers lifted a strand of your hair as though assessing the texture of rare silk. His face was far too close, and his pose naturally resembled a model in the midst of a photoshoot.
“Such… radiant warmth energy. Oh, how marvellous!” He said as his eyes traced every inch of your body, not stopping even at your confused expression.
“Thank you?” Your confusion held no weight to Aryu, as he continued with his train of thoughts.
“I just— don’t understand how someone as astonishing as you my dear, could dress in such… garments. Ow, my poor eyes!” He threw his head back dramatically while you stared at him unmoving.
“It’s 7am. I didn’t even have my breakfast yet because I still need to finish preparing the essentials kits for each player. My head is filled with 90% World Cup stuff and 10% of documents I still have to write. Trust me when I say, my hair or my clothes, are the least of my worries now” your voice calm, slightly tired, as you looked at him.
His eyes almost left his skull, as his expression morphs into something that resembles shock. How? Really? What in the world? But also… how intriguing. You didn’t even flinch. You didn’t awkwardly laugh like some of the others would have. Nor did you simply ignore him. You just stated your truth.
And he didn’t know whether to be pleased or absolutely horrified that someone could be so calm and collected in being so out of order. This… this was unacceptable. And yet… captivating. You had the nerve to dismiss fashion at the altar of duty and somehow made it look noble. Aryu was torn between fainting and offering to become your personal stylist. Maybe both. After all, he was the apostle of glamour, no?
There was a long pause. You had just rejected the sacred trinity: wardrobe, skincare, and morning aesthetics. Daring, bold. Maybe too much. Aryu blinked. Then finally sighed, a long tragic sound, which somehow he made it sound like a sweet melody.
“You poor, magnificent soul,” he said, shaking his head with genuine sorrow. “Your life… has been a series of poorly coordinated fabric choices.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out what looked like a travel sized bottle, very expensive, of leave in conditioner?
“I cannot allow this to continue,” he declared. “Consider this the first step in your aesthetic rehabilitation. Courtesy of Aryu Jyubei. No need to thank me… yet.”
You stared at the bottle in your hand like it might explode. “You’re giving me… hair cream?”
“Correction,” he said, pointing his perfectly manicured finger at the bottle. “An ultra lightweight moisture formula with UV protection and anti frizz technology. It’s a lifestyle, not a product.”
From behind you two, Aiku’s voice cut through the confusing moment.
“Yo, Aryu, you flirting again or just trying to recruit another victim into your beauty cult?”
Aryu didn’t even look at him. “I’m saving a life, Aiku. A noble cause. Unlike you, who insists on wearing socks with sandals out in Shibuya and then argue on why girls break up with you.”
“HEY—!”
Aryu had already turned his full attention back to you, not bothering to respond to any of Aiku’s provocations.
His eyes narrowed, not unkindly. “I see greatness in you,” he whispered, dramatic as if he was a character in an Argentinian telenovela. “But you walk in shadows. You deserve to shine. To live, to breathe the essence of glamour”
“Thanks,” you muttered, already turning to escape whatever was going on. “But I really do have to go back to work—”
“Meet me at 8 p.m. sharp.” His voice cut through the air, demanding yet with an elegance that left you speechless. “My room is on the second floor, last to the right. Bring nothing. I’ll provide everything.”
You stopped. “Why?”
His smile was breathtaking. “Because, my dear manager, your glow up begins tonight.”
You blinked. What in the world did he just said? “My what now?” You asked, trying to push down that mix of panic raising in your voice.
What in the world did you get yourself into… certainly that’s not what you were expecting when you signed as a manager.
But as you were busy trying to make sense of the situation, Aryu was already walking away, the morning sun catching in his moving long hair, and you wondered for a moment… Is he even human? He has to be some sort of mythological creature. A siren maybe. How can a human being be so pretty? He turned only once, just before disappearing around the corner.
“Oh, and dear? Don’t wear beige. It’s a crime against your complexion.”
And just like that he made his exit. Leaving you speechless and holding what probably was 120 bucks worth of conditioner in your hands.
© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)
46 notes · View notes
yvesssssssss · 20 hours ago
Text
S/O with a hearing disability
Request by: @kssf
Thank you so much for the request, sweetie! I’m not familiar with the anime Yubisaki to Renren, but I hope this turned out well!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Nagumo yoichi
Nagumo’s first reaction to learning about your hearing disability was one of absolute determination. He didn’t let it faze him for a second. Instead, he saw it as another challenge to tackle head-on—and he was more than ready to bring all of his energy and humor to make sure you felt loved and included in everything.
Rather than just speak, Nagumo made sure to get your attention in little, thoughtful ways—tapping your shoulder gently or waving in front of you. He’d sometimes give a thumbs-up or a silly wink, making sure you knew that, no matter what, you were part of everything. His expressive eyes and gestures made it so you never felt left out of any situation.
Learning sign language became his mission. Sure, he messed up a lot, and sometimes his signs would be more like jumbled hand gestures, but the effort was what mattered to you. And honestly, it was impossible not to laugh when he would get a sign wrong and look at you with mock exasperation, saying, “What? Was that not right?”
When he wanted to show affection, he made sure to make it known with a sweet look or a little gesture, something you could understand just as easily as the sound of a voice. Nagumo was always there with a hand to hold, a silly joke, or just his presence, making you feel safe and loved.
He’d even take up small habits—like pausing when speaking, so you could read his lips or wait for him to sign if that was easier. His presence was always comforting in its own way, and he never let you feel like your hearing disability was anything to be ashamed of. You were always just you, and that was more than enough for him.
Shin asakura
Shin's approach was calm and incredibly patient. When he found out about your hearing disability, he didn’t make a big deal out of it. Instead, he simply adjusted. He made sure to always face you directly when speaking, so you could read his lips clearly, and he became even more focused on the way he expressed his emotions.
Shin didn’t rush you or make you feel like you were different. It was like you both entered a space where there was no pressure to perform or conform to a world that often didn’t understand. He was content to stay quiet when you needed it and would write things down for you if the conversation felt too fast.
When you two went out, Shin would keep an eye on you, guiding you gently through crowds or pointing out things he thought might interest you. He didn’t want to overwhelm you with too much noise or chaos. Instead, he tried to bring a calm sense of peace to every situation.
If there was ever a moment of silence between the two of you, it was never awkward. You could simply look at each other, share a smile, and know that nothing needed to be said. Shin’s love for you was simple, steady, and quiet—a love that didn’t need sound to be real.
Natsuki seba
Natsuki was a little more uncertain when he first learned about your hearing disability, but that didn’t stop him from trying his best. His awkwardness was endearing—whenever he tried to sign, his movements were a little too big or too fast, and his face would blush every time he got it wrong. But he didn’t let that discourage him. Instead, he would laugh it off and keep trying, wanting to get it just right because he knew how much it meant to you.
He never made a fuss, though. Natsuki’s love language wasn’t about grand gestures. It was about being there for you, even when he stumbled with the signs. He’d always hold your hand or give you a playful tap when he wanted to make sure you were paying attention. His facial expressions and body language were his way of making you feel loved without needing to speak.
When you were out together, Natsuki made sure to stay close, letting you feel his presence without overwhelming you. He was quick to notice when you needed to slow down or take a break from the noise. He’d help guide you, always being considerate of the things around you that might be hard to understand.
There were so many little moments where his care shone through. He’d do things like write down messages on paper or make sure you knew where he was if you were in a crowded space. And when you’d get frustrated or confused, Natsuki was there with a reassuring smile, gently patting your back and letting you know he was always ready to help.
Tumblr media
32 notes · View notes
rotzaprachim · 2 days ago
Text
Many have such little comprehension and empathy for what it was to be a refugee from a communist dictatorship in the kind of 30’s-90’s period in the U.S. and Western Europe. (They also have such little comprehension and empathy for what it was to be a refugee from a right wing capitalist us-backed dictatorship as well, but in some specials and other ways.)
like. These were people who were often working between multiple extremely dysfunctional, systematically unfair immigration regimes. The U.S. functionally shut immigration from everywhere but smallll portions of Western Europe and small groups of people from those areas at that in the 1920’s and things stayed, with fluctuations, roughly the same for decades - simple “economic migrants” from almost the entire world were simply banned. People had to come up with a political reason to flee, and it had to sound good to the authorities, especially when a lot of them were on the exact lists that U.S. immigration did not like - Southeast Asians, Muslims, Jews, central and Eastern Europeans, Latines. They often but not always had the exact professions and backgrounds that the U.S. did not like, especially in peak Cold War 50’s-70’s hysteria - intellectuals of all sorts, psychologists, professors, artists, scientists, researchers.
Or they were running from repercussions from political actions, which were often political actions the United States was not a particular fan of, such as attempts at independent trade unionization - because remember, you likely came from a country with (1) total trade union which was a government entity and the government was your employer, so there wasn’t a single way to raise a workers’ rights complaint - or attempts at non-aligned peace and demilitarization movements - because if you lived in Eastern Europe there was still a massive chance that your labour was going towards some kind of violence abroad - or towards academic intellectual freedom or just some way of tallying your figures to go hmmm something doesn’t add up here. all of these often ended up glossed as “bourgeois capitalism” where they were running from, but were considered kinda suspiciously red in the U.S. where they were trying to go. What do you do?
And then they got to the U.S., and due to the haphazard and brutal nature of U.S. immigration policy, they often came over as individuals and then were desperate to get the rest of their family over as well - keep in mind too that the exact regimes they were running from often punished the families of those who left or marked them as regime traitors who deserved punishment. So if you arrived in the US, not only were you on the ground begging for your own documentation or else keeping very very silent, you were also either desperately telling the authorities about the most dreadfullllll terribleeeee communist spectacle you were running from and how every day you prayed to mcdonalds and j edgar Hoover and our lord almighty Dwight d Eisenhower that you could bring your children to the cleansing light of capitalism.
or you were keeping very, very silent.
like, we need to appreciate that there are appreciable ways in which U.S. border policy has hardened since the, say, 1950’s (although there has been an awful and cyclical policy of border based deportations), anti immigrant hysteria and mass deportation and closed borders have been a feature of U.S. policy since at least the 1920’s in a very systematic way, and these were the Bad Ones. People were playing with multiple very very unfair systems.
It’s in this context I see extremely …. Extreme stuff about members of various exile groups in the U.S. let’s be clear - many of the people above who I mentioned became very publicly conservative. I don’t believe anyone’s particular background justifies conservatism in any way, or that conservatism is understandable when anyone supports it. But I do think it’s underrated how, while very certain figureheads became conservative, an unbelievable number of the people who went through this system just went silent. They voted quietly and worked quietly and did not become loudly or physically involved with that which might deport them again, might make them become again arrested. And many others became conflicting bitter about the whole thing, and never did really wave the flag and cheer because this land of Golden Arches had so much of what they were running from, and they saw it in other people. In Jewish and/or Eastern European and in Asian exilic communities I grew up with and knew all those people. All of them.
it’s a strange place to be in, at this moment in history. On the one hand, the U.S. memory of anti-communism never really includes the people who ran and had to sit at the American visa office. On the other, I see obsessive hatred of a lot of these groups from the American and Western European lefts as the like, ultimate evil capitalists or some such, their exilic culture as the ultimate in evil capitalism, to an extent that far outstrips how they see local and more wasp or nationally-majority oriented areas that are more conservative leaning. And I don’t think they’ve maybe sat down to think about why that is. The U.S. wanted the end of the communist threat to their particular capitalist and political system. That doesn’t ever mean they wanted the people.
27 notes · View notes
undercoveravenger · 11 hours ago
Text
Gale's Barbarian (Headcanons)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Gale x Barbarian!Male!Reader
Requested: Yes
Request: “Gale dekarios x himbo barbarian male reader who is well meaning and caring but dumb as rock head cannons”
A/N: Okay, but I love smart-as-hell + dumb-as-a-brick duos. Hope you enjoy!
-----
Gale’s not sure what he was expecting when a hand clasps his to pull him back through the portal. Someone demanding repayment for their good deed, perhaps? He was not anticipating you.
He’s knocked off balance as his feet hit solid ground again and he has to remind himself that the sudden wave of dizziness is just a result of the magic (it’s definitely not attraction, that would be preposterous, wouldn’t it?)
He continues telling himself that each day when he joins you on your quest to rid your little adventuring party of the illithid tadpoles infecting you, despite the perpetual distraction posed by your flexing muscles and towering physique and the memory of how nice it felt to have you holding his hand.
Despite how undeniably kind you seem, Gale is naturally hesitant to tell you about his… condition. Eventually though, the time comes and he broaches the subject with you. Explains that he needs magic to keep himself from coming apart at the seams and that he understands that it’s inconvenient to sacrifice a magical item in order to - oh? You’re just giving that to him? Just like that?
It’s like you don’t even need to think about it. He needs a magic item? Sure, will this work? He’s never had someone be so… eager to help him. Gale almost wonders if you’ve got some ulterior motive.
Soon enough he learns that that’s just who you are, eager to help those who need it. Volunteering to find the druid Halsin to help the tieflings and to find a girl whose brothers think she was taken by a hag. It’s… heartwarming, to say the least.
He’s a scholar though, simply being kind isn’t enough to win his heart. He needs to be challenged! But well, when you agree to let him show you the Weave - the look in your eyes as you see the magic of the universe stitching together around you - well, there are other things than studiousness.
Okay, so maybe he admires you as more than a comrade, but he’ll be hells-damned before he says anything about it! At least, that’s what he resolves to until he sees Astarion of all people cozying up to you at camp a few days out from reaching Baldur’s Gate. Then he has to take action.
He sends a projection to disturb your moment with the vampire, to call you away to the spot he’d picked out in a meadow nearby. The sky is big and bright and colorful stretched out above the both of you and it feels like a good night for taking chances.
He finds it surprisingly difficult to find the words to do this - to tell you what he’s feeling- with you sitting there beside him. But that’s okay because you’re patient. You sit there beside him, watching the aurora above you.
Eventually he manages “I like you, rather a lot, really.” And you smile at him and he can feel his hopes lifting. 
He gets an “I like you too, Gale. You’re a great friend!” for his trouble.
Okay, so it’s back to the drawing board. He tries bringing you flowers and you ask him if he wants you to try to make a flower crown out of them for him, because why else would he be bringing you a bouquet? He tries to make your favorite food for dinner (and did not burn it, thank you very much!) and you just attribute it to coincidence!
From there he decides he must forsake the classic cliches because clearly they are not working. Eventually he manages to persuade you into a walk, just the two of you, and decides he needs to just come out with it. 
“I like you,” he has to be quick before you can dismiss it as friendship again, “I really quite like you. And I’m not sure if I wasn’t clear enough before, but I like you in a romantic fashion and I would rather like the opportunity to be your partner if you find that amenable.”
It takes you a second to parse through the big words (he rambles when he’s nervous, okay?) but then there’s “oh? Oh! That’s- you were trying to ask me out before?” and Gale wants to slap himself but then you smile and lean in to kiss him and Gale thinks that everything may be alright after all.
41 notes · View notes
theartofwoompwoomps · 22 hours ago
Text
Why me
ES Soundwave x human!reader
Summary: Ravage brings him a human to console him after the other cassettes left. (I haven’t watched earthspark lol)
———————————————————————
This had been going for awhile now. 
Soundwave would ask him to wait a bit outside, then when allowed back in the whole room was turned upside down.
His boss never told him directly, but he didn’t need to for him to understand.
The cassettes leaving had a great impact in them. He could sense it. Especially whenever he’d lay next to him, Soundwave would caress him more affectionately. Almost as if he were afraid of losing him too.
He didn’t like seeing his boss like this. Nor was he used to it. At first, he was patient with him, understanding that Megatron’s betrayal and his cassettes leaving had wounded him deeply.
But,… it was starting to get overbearing. 
His attention was always on him, if he needed anything, did something, or was with others.
But, He didn’t want to hurt him. So talking about it was out of the question. His boss’s state of mind wouldn’t take it the right way. That’s why he made sure to keep these thoughts deep away from him. Only allowing worry to be detectable.
~~~~~
Soundwave had a mission recently without him, and it was the perfect opportunity to execute his plan. Shockwave helped him as well. 
He went down to the fleshy creatures land, where news wasn’t too popular, and where nature was abundant. Looking for someone who would need his bosses help.
Walking deeper through the woods, the fog kept blocking his eyesight, but he needed to get this human before soundwave got back.
Searching more frantically, rushing around, scaring many creatures in the process. He halted at what was in front of him.
A human.
They were on the ground. Not moving. No sound from them.
Creeping up to them he kneeled his head closer to listen, practically on top of their small chest, he finally heard it. A small pulse.
Taking you with the things you had in hand, he hurried back. Unaware of the dangers you had faced.
~~~~~~
Shockwave was displeased to see the state the human was in currently. Especially since they weren’t the most qualified for human care. But they did try their best at preparing a cube just for you.
It had some basic necessities, like a small bathroom, a mattress with a blanket, and a vending machine. Ravage hoped it’d be enough for now. 
He did feel a bit bad for taking you, but this was necessary. Glancing your way to see how you were, he saw that your state hadn’t changed. You were still unconscious. 
Feeling unease crawl through him doubts started arising. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken you. He didn’t even know if you could survive with them, but maybe that was the exact situation Soundwave needed. 
It was too late for doubt anyway.
Picking you up gently with his denta, he placed you on his boss’s berth, then draped his own body on you. Almost as if he were spooning you in his own way. 
Now he simply needed to wait.
~~~~~~
Soundwave had been on edge the whole time. He got the job done, but his mind was somewhere else. 
Being without Ravage threw his emotions in a turmoil. He needed to get back. He had to go back. 
Rushing back, not even glancing at anyone, he wad dead set on finding Ravage. 
Heading first to his quarters, he opens the door quite loudly upon arriving. Only feeling himself relax when his optics found his dear cassette.
Walking towards him, he saw them on his berth waking from recharge.
He waited for Soundwave to sit next to him before revealing you. Not saying anything before getting up. Making sure you were in plain sight.
His boss simply stared down.
It was silent. Only your small breathes and the vents in their bodies making noise. The whole thing felt extremely heavy on him. Not daring to make a move or noise. Then Soundwave broke the silence.
“Ravage. Query: what is a human doing here.”
It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but he knew he was in trouble unless he started explaining. “well,.. I found them..and brought them… for you to keep them.” 
Soundwave couldn’t believe it. Nor did he detect any lie. Why did his cassette even want him to have a human? 
And as if the roles were reversed and Ravage could read his mind he continued explaining. 
“They are a gift from me to you” lowering his head towards you then towards him. “So you have to take care of them.”
Soundwave was still processing the whole thing.
You were a gift? To take care of? His head filled with questions, logic and emotion battling inside. 
But, Ravage took his silence as an invitation to place your small body on him. Leave his boss to figure things out on his own.
———————————————————————
Masterlist 
41 notes · View notes