#because from his failures others rise up

[writer-room]

Hey. The Finders have no idea that Bonzle was captured. Fritz and Spitz are still waiting, playing video games in the Monastery, for Cole to bring their sister out of hiding now that the blood moon is over. Geo is still sitting by the window, watching and waiting for a dragon on the horizon to return his kid safe and sound. Cole took a very unsure Bonzle, assured them all everything would be okay, and they'd be back soon. He promised he'd find a way to protect her.

Don't think about how they'll smile when Cole finally trudges back, happy to know he's okay. Especially don't think about the Finders stopping, looking out over the group, and how Cole can't look them in the eyes when they turn to him and ask; where's Bonzle?

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #lego ninjago #dragons rising #bonzle #finders #cole #cole brookstone #geo #fritz #spitz #text post #angst #talk #LISTEN TO ME #COLE LOST 2 WHOLE FAMILY MEMBERS DURING THAT BLOOD MOON #HES GOING TO NOT BE OKAY!!!!!!! HES DOING SO BAD #mans is a FATHER and he PROMISED he'd keep his kid safe. he promised it to the OTHERS #and hes going to have to walk back up those steps and admit to being a LIAR and a FAILURE #hes not obviously sht just went sideways but you KNOW he blames himself #geo very worriedly stayed behind w fritz & spitz FULLY TRUSTING that cole would keep bonzle safe & bring her back #he loves him so much (in a gay way. u know it to be true) so he trusts him IMPLICITLY to keep them safe. hes done it before #can you imagine the HORROR when cole comes back and hes...alone. with no one else but the other ninja (minus 1) #geo realizing what happened before the kids. the way everything just freezes and drops. cole curled so tight in on himself #and cole cant say hes sorry because he cant even look at them. he lost family hes had for over a decade & a kid he claimed his own for year #you saw how he was w child wu. you saw how desperate he was to keep bonzle safe. AND KAI IS GONE TOO??? #homeboy is having the literal worst day ever. imagine him trying to tuck fritz & spitz close while on one knee trying to explain it all #and bro jsut feels like hes literally the worst person in the world #something something 'you dont get to stay with the ninja & be happy. i tried to protect you from what hurt me as a kid' #'and instead your right in the thick of it'

[chrollohearttags]

ENVY | EREN JAEGER • the seven slutty sins series: part two

he’s not selfish, he just wants you all to himself..

musician/influencer au, possessive (yandere if you squint) eren, black fem reader, rough sex, spit play, hair pulling, overstim, exhibitionism, etc.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿

eren never got jealous!

at least that’s what he told himself..nothing ever really garnered that much of a rise out of the rapper. Sure, he’d have fleeting moments of self doubt and insecurity like any other warm blooded human on this planet but one thing that could be said of EJ The Don, was that he was no hater. Others’ problems or accomplishments were of no consequence to him…someone trending higher on the charts for a number one spot? Cool. Just meant that it was their time instead of his. Awards shows? He wasn’t bothered. One man’s win didn’t spell failure for him. And when it came to women? EJ was the textbook definition of unbothered. He was cool on every single one that had ever crossed his path. Nonchalant and never worried with the possibility that he could lose her. Simply put, it wasn’t a problem for him. He was also never worried about his proverbial competition..because on the off chance that another guy was in the picture, there was no question of who she was going home with! He never had a reason to resent anyone..

…that was until he saw you with him!

“Oh my—‘rennn, fuuuck, I can’t..”

“Can’t what, hmm? Go ‘head, speak up, baby. I’m listening..”

he was calm and collected until he spotted you on Twitter..one of the rare instances he decided to actually engage with the app and he happens to see his beloved (y/n) dancing to his best friend’s song. Subtly shaking your ass to the upbeat instrumental in that skin tight dress. A sheer thong peeking out underneath and giving the world a small glimpse of what belonged to him…that tiny string swallowed up by the thick of that ass and plump pussy lips. The same ones that were all but drooling for him at the moment as he thrashed around your insides with a thumb gently placed into that puckering asshole to aid in your pleasure.

“N-no more..you win…I can’t take it..”

you’d declare in haste, but he wasn’t buying it. Or rather, he didn’t give a fuck! Why would he when you couldn’t be vexed to consider how he’d feel? Seeing you twerk to the sound of his homeboy’s lyrics when he was all that you needed? He was the only one that could turn you so salacious..ripping your clothes off as if they were paper thin..that much proven by the fact that right now, you were bent over the counter space where his friend had just sat prior to going on stage. Buried to the hilt on his stiff, aching cock as he hooked two fingers into your mouth whilst they swabbed your tongue. The same one that throbbed and pulsed at the very sight of you..the one that swelled so large, it made it damn near uncomfortable to sit down when you showed off that pretty little body and once you spread those legs to show him what was in between, his tip seeped with precum and embarrassingly, sometimes, he’d come all on his lonesome. Hence why he was pounding your cunt into full blown submission and sincerely hoped that someone would catch you two in the act right now.

“You say that but you keep throwing that shit back on me..take that dick and shut the fuck up..”

those same slender, tattooed fingers that were once hooked in the side of your jaw and underneath you to massage that very sensitive clit, were now cupped around your throat so that you could get a generous glimpse at your face right now. That beautiful face desecrated with fallen tears and ruined makeup. Your melted lace lifted clean from the perimeter of your head as he tugged it to keep you in place with those deep strokes. “Look in that fucking mirror. Look how pretty you are taking that dick..” Alternating his pacing between rough and gentle, fast and slow..all in an attempt to bring you closer to your inevitable peak..one that would undoubtedly leave you in a dripping wet mess. He’d watch you tap at that countertop to concede defeat or even reach back to paw at his abs but was only met with sharp hisses and a demented laugh, letting you know that he didn’t care about your pathetic pleas. Honestly, they were nothing more than fuel for his desires. Tugging your head back to occasionally fill those jaws with generous strings of saliva; slapping you to promptly receive your gratitude.

“Did you think I was gon’ let you get away with that shit, baby? This is mine..this my pussy..”

something he’d instill that empty little brain of yours, even if it took all night. If it took another artist and all of the staff backstage walking in, witnessing you in this vulnerable state. “Now open up. Spread that ass open..I want you to take all my nut…get you so full you can’t go nowhere..”

make no mistake, he wasn’t selfish. He wasn’t even jealous…he just wanted you all to himself.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@jadeisthirsting @spaceforher @honeybleed @shamelesshoefairy @calibabii21 @kaennih-skittles @astrokatsuki @bey0nseh @anubisisthebomb

#cherry’s works ✦⭒ #aot x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #black fem reader #musician x influencer au #black reader smut #aot au #black reader #eren x black reader #eren jaeger #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x black reader #eren yeager #eren #eren aot #eren x reader #eren smut #eren x you #aot smut #aot fanfiction #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan au #attack on titan smut #cw spit #cw suggestive #cw breeding #cw yandere #cw exhibitionism

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 2!!

In the first part I went over my character writing notes for Raph, so we're doing Leo next!!!

Leo Character Notes

Language Habits:

First the obvious, makes a lot of puns and one-liners. Think corny super hero movies

Does poke at New Jersey often in said one-liners

Mumbles/talks to himself out loud often

Starts a Lot of his sentences with, "Okay--"

Often will add on, "haha, you're hilarious", when he's trying to tease or antagonize someone

Similarly to Raph he will also verbalize his attacks/actions, "kick and punch"/"punch and kick", "land safely"/"and he sticks the landing"

Also will verbalize when he's trying to make a portal, "come on portal", "it's portal time", "portal power jitsu"

We all know "hachi machi"

Tendency to also make noises when fighting, "yah"/"wah!"/"hah!"

That little ohohoho laugh can signify as his battle cry/excitement, or his nervousness depending on context

Same case as the above with "hoh boy"

Will stutter on words to emphasize them, "l-l-l-l-lame!"

The first to jump onto an "I told you so" or "I was right"

Mixes Spanish into his sentences, most notably "bueno", "vamanos", "hermano(s)"

Messes up science terminology, "reprogramulating"

Says "indubitably" when he's up to something (which Raph recognizes)

Out of all the brothers, he does poke fun the most

Refers to himself as "Leon"

Refers to others (mostly strangers/acquaintances) as "bub"/"bud", or "chief"

Personality:

Dramatic, Leo will always play things up 110%. Sometimes this is to cover up his insecurities, to cheer up his brothers, or to annoy said brothers. Also plays into his extreme responses to stressful situations

The fun brother, aka mikey's advocate. He takes his role seriously as the face man, who keeps things fun and cool for his brothers. It's an easy role, and he gets to make his family laugh or roll their eyes. He's. Sillay

Perceptive, this is why he knows exactly what buttons to push, but he's not a great communicator when it comes to the bigger picture. This also plays into his manipulativeness that he uses to put chaos into his family (i.e. lair games), puppet villains (i.e. Big Mama) into his motives, and change the battlefield

A closet nerd, implied to remember more jupiter jim lore than the rest of his brothers and has a ready to go impression of the reptiles of planet reptilica

Competitive to a fault, he tends to get lost in the competition when it comes to his brothers. Part of his dramatism is showing off, and he's weak to being called or associated with the term "champion". Competition is a way he gauges his self worth

Has a strong desire for the inherent admiration and trust of his peers, more than outright praise (both are wanted) unlike Donnie. This damages his communication skills because he just expects his brothers to trust him while he puts on a persona of nonchalance as protection from failure

Defensive, of himself through being snippy or sarcastic, but also defensive of his brothers' own well-being. He may be the one to poke the most fun, but he's also the one to jump to his siblings' defense out of any of the brothers. Sort of an "only I can do so and so to blank" mindset

Martyr complex, prioritizes the safety of his family over his own safety

Gets attached to people he considers family Quickly, those he doesn't consider a part of his family he has little sympathy for but once that connection is there he's already ready to use his body as a shield

Freeze response, tends to freeze up in response to danger or stress. Often shown to curl into a ball or stand silently (as opposed to his constant chatter)

Miscellaneous:

The third to unlock his mystic powers

Nicknames: "baby blue" by splinter, "nardo" by donnie

Sweats an ungodly amount

Uses spit to annoy his brothers/enemies (licking an item to claim it as his, wet willies)

Can beat box

Always chooses left in mazes or when lost

Next up will be Donnie :>

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #character analysis #long post #fanfic #writing #critter talks

[twilightcitysky]

Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 2)

Part one here

Okay, so that's how I think the pre-creation scene and Gabriel's arc connect to Aziraphale's choice. I also think the ineffable bureaucracy speedrun exists to prove totally different things to Aziraphale and Crowley: Aziraphale loves that they can love each other but notes they have to run away to be together; Crowley sees this and immediately thinks "hey, we can do that too!", forgetting that running away is not a solution Aziraphale has ever been interested in. It's the mentality of an individualist vs a group-oriented mind, and neither of them is necessarily wrong, it's just that their priorities are different and they HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT, which they don't.

Continued analysis under the cut:

3. Let's take the Job minisode. Why include it? We already mentioned that it proves Aziraphale remembers Crowley as an angel, since he mentions it. And he believes Crowley is the same person he always was, and that he doesn't want to harm Job's crops or animals or children. Crowley tries to convince him he's a Big Bad Demon who is all in on this assignment, but fails utterly to kill even a single goat, soooo... Aziraphale comes to the conclusion that he knows what Crowley wants. Alert! Alert! This is a big problem! Crowley says, "What do you know about what I want?" Aziraphale: "I know you." Crowley: "You do not know me." But because Aziraphale got it right this time, he goes ahead assuming he'll always get it right, which is a crucial failure when it comes to the final reckoning. He doesn't ever ASK Crowley what he wants, he just assumes. When you assume you know what someone wants, you usually assume their priorities align with yours... he couldn't be more wrong about that. The Job minisode sets up this dynamic for them, and they never really manage to change it.

The other thing happens at the end of the minisode. Crowley acknowledges two crucial points: 1) he's lonely ("But you said it wasn't!" "I'm a demon. I lied"), 2) he doesn't think Aziraphale would like Hell. Aziraphale DOESN'T like Hell. Aziraphale hates Hell for what they've done to Crowley. He doesn't see Heaven as innocent or benign, but importantly, Heaven has never tried to hurt Crowley directly. They never threatened his safety. They never tortured him (as it's heavily implied that Hell did). Fast forward to the last ten mins of season 2: Aziraphale excited to tell Crowley that he can be an angel again BECAUSE: he never has to go back to Hell. They can never hurt him again, not the way they did before. And he doesn't have to be lonely anymore.

Last point before I leave Job: Crowley has the chance to cause Aziraphale to Fall, here, probably. ("I lied to Heaven to thwart the will of God!" "You did, but I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you? ...good, then nothing has to change.") He doesn't take it. He doesn't want Aziraphale to be a demon. He loves Aziraphale as he is. "Angel" as an affectionate. Aziraphale certainly doesn't use "demon" as a pet name for Crowley. I think they set up this scene to contrast the final one, and show how deeply hurt Crowley is that Aziraphale suggest he change.

4. Moving on to Victorian Scotland. This one confused me at first. I was delighted that they brought back the "the lower you start the more opportunity you have to rise" dialogue from the book, but apart from that I didn't really see the point of it. It seems like the statue of Gabriel and the fact that he and Beelz ended up at that pub in the present were more or less coincidental.

The point, I think, is actually not the girl, but the doctor. He's a person who is trying to do good by working in a system that's deeply flawed, and engaging in questionable moral practices for the greater good. (Cadaver dissection is still an essential part of medical school. You need dead bodies to understand living ones.) He shows Aziraphale a tumor he removed from a child who died, and Aziraphale clutches it to his chest. The camera zooms in and lingers to tell us that this is a guardian through and through. He wants to protect people. He wants to do good with every fiber of his being.

To Crowley, it's enough to just "be an us" with Aziraphale. He doesn't really want anything more than that. That's an issue! For one thing, it fosters unhealthy codependency, and for another, Aziraphale would never be happy without the opportunity to help and protect people. It's an essential part of who he is. Metatron knows that, and he plays Aziraphale like a fiddle. The doctor showed Aziraphale that you can make a difference even in systems that are flawed, and even if you have to do things you'd rather not do. Aziraphale doesn't want to go back to Heaven, but he truly thinks he can change things; thinks he can be a guardian with some real power. In his mind, that's the right thing to do.

Last thing that happens in Scotland: Crowley saves a soul from Hell, arguably, by preventing a suicide. He gets in Big Trouble. Whatever happened to him downstairs resulted in him coming back up, leaning on a cane, and asking Aziraphale to give him holy water. Go back and watch that scene knowing what we know now about the Victorian minisode. Ask yourself how Aziraphale must have felt. He likely blamed himself for what happened, because if he hadn't meddled then they never would have been there in the first place. He knew where Crowley was, and why he was there, and he had to sit with that knowledge for years. He desperately wants Crowley to be safe; is perfectly willing to push him away to keep him safe-- which is what he does do, the minute Crowley gets back.

Now think again about what Metatron offered him. A chance to keep Crowley safe forever. He'd never be harmed again. Aziraphale is going to take that offer, no matter what else is asked of him. He's shown over and over again that he'll sacrifice his own happiness to make sure nothing happens to Crowley. And he'll do it without talking to Crowley about it first, because he is a moron who doesn't know how to use his words. Leading Crowley to assume that Aziraphale doesn't love him. The idiot angel is doing it all out of love, but because he doesn't make himself clear Crowley doesn't know that.

Part 3: Maggie and Nina, and their roles as mirror couple/ Greek chorus!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #good omens s2 spoilers #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #everything is meant #good omens analysis #part 3 tomorrow

[bones4thecats]

What If They Were Fathers?

Type of Writing: #5 - Poll Result Characters: Bonten! Manjiro Sano, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho, and Hajime Kokonoi Name: What If They Were Fathers? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: The Reader is FEMALE in this, since they're pregnant and whatnot.

WARNING! This contains: Mentions of drugs, overdoses, alcohol addiction, and drug addiction

Spoilers for: Bonten Arc

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🍵 It shocked Mikey enough that you still loved him even though he wasn't the same happy-go-lucky boy he was years ago, instead, he grew into a emotionless and dead-appearing individual

🍵 So, when he heard that you were pregnant, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a small bit of love grow inside his now cold-heart

🍵 Mikey was very good when it came to caring for you during your pregnancy, he would have the others go get you things you needed, since he suspected someone was after him and you

🍵 After all, being pregnant slows down a woman from whooping ass

🍵 It was surprising, but, when you went into labor and you were yelling at him as he tried calming you down, Mikey stayed as calm as ever

🍵 He would slightly flinch at the loud screams of pain you let out, and he was honestly kinda scared he may lose you when the gang's doctor rushed you to lay down and stay calm

" Mr. Sano, sir, would you like to hold your baby? "

🍵 Looking behind him, he stared at his first child, a son, and he felt a shimmer of happiness and sadness rush through him at the same time, it reminded him of when he first met Emma, how he cared for her automatically without any reason

🍵 As he held your baby, he let a tear rush down his cheek as you chuckled at his small moment of vulnerability, something he swore he would never show was in-fact showing, he was still human inside

🍵 Now, while your son grew up, Mikey was a hint of a helicopter-father, he runs a very dangerous organization, one that is being hunted by authorities constantly, and he had enough to do when worrying about you, but, his son was so similar to younger him

🍵 The boy would run up to strangers and make them laugh without a care in the world as Mikey would hide himself deeper in a hoodie while you got your son back to you guys

🍵 But, despite many beliefs, he's a decent father

🍵 Mikey would put some things behind and would play with his son, for example, if his son wanted to mess around with some sock puppets and make a story, Mikey would indulge him and mess with him, making his voice deepen and rise for his son's laugh to erupt

🍵 He does have his faults though, as his work can end up making his son mature faster than a child should, or he could end up saying or doing something that upset you, making his son start disconnecting with him

🍵 Overall, he's a 7.5/10 father, he's good in certain situations and bad in others

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🔪 Sanzu and you have known one another for years, planting the first time you ever met nearly 10 years prior to this one

🔪 When he went through the years of torturous addictions, whether it be to alcohol or drugs that he somehow got a hold of through means even you didn't know of, you were always there to pull him away

🔪 Because of those issues, he had no idea why you settled for him of all people, you were so beautiful, you could've gotten with any other member of Bonten, maybe even his own boss

🔪 But, you settled with him, the guy who had nearly overdosed from his drugs and alcohol multiple times

🔪 While pushing those hateful thoughts of himself to the back of his brain, Sanzu had gone through multiple attempts of rehabilitation, and after a few failures and your threat of leaving him, he began taking it seriously, he loves you and he needs you to be there

🔪 It took a while, but, once he made it to your first milestone of a year of sobriety, you gave him a reward, which led to something bigger than expected

🔪 You had gotten pregnant, leaving Sanzu is shock, and his brain nearly, nearly, slipped away to him grabbing a large bottle of whiskey and wine mixed with a large bag of his old drugs

🔪 In the midst of his panic-attack, it took Kakucho's words of affirmation with his boss' assurance of him getting a form of paternity leave to just calm him down

🔪 He takes excellent care of you during your pregnancy, and that carried onto him as a father, to a degree, that is

🔪 When you went into labor, he was panicking badly, he had nearly passed out when you began to scream in pain, and during this mass of chaos, the doctor had to usher Ran and Rindou to take him out of the room

🔪 Hearing your screams of agony stop made his heart sink, what happened? Were you okay? How was his baby? Oh God, what if he lost you and the baby?! How would he live with himself?!

" Mr. Haruchiyo, your wife and daughter are in perfect condition. Would you like to come and see them? " " Yes! I- I mean, yes, please. "

🔪 When he held your daughter for the first time, he swore on his life he would protect you guys from everything, including himself. And, that day, he swore to stay sober for good. No fuck ups this time, he couldn't, no, he wouldn't risk harming his child and his own wife

🔪 Ever since your daughter was born, the rest of Bonten began to hide their deals from your home more often, by orders of Mikey, since, he knew how a traumatizing childhood can affect someone

🔪 Sanzu loves to play with her, for example, at just a few months old until she was around maybe seven years old, he would pick her up and toss her in the air for him to catch

🔪 Unlike Mikey, Sanzu doesn't really fear anyone harming his child, if they were a boy that is, he has a full-fledged belief that boys are far more feared than women, so, whenever his daughter starts talking to a stranger, he glares from behind her to make sure that random guy didn't even attempt touching her

🔪 He definitely tries holding back his tears during her first day of school, or really during any massive part of her life, especially when she graduated and moved out, his baby was so old now... he's getting back pain!

" Dad... I'm just moving across the street in another apartment, don't worry! I'll come see you and Mom whenever I can! Please don't cry! " " I'm not crying about that! Your Mother swat a fly earlier, I feel bad for the fly! "

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

❤️‍🔥 This guy is the definition of husband and father material, that I cannot deny

❤️‍🔥 When you guys started dating, he always had the idea of your future, from marriage to having children, whenever he would come home from a fight all injured, he would ask you if this was what you really wanted

❤️‍🔥 Did you really want to be with him? For crying out loud, he could get possibly killed at any time! This especially set in when you guys lost Izana (I believe that still happens... correct me if I'm wrong!)

❤️‍🔥 It still shocks him to this day on the fact you married him, he worked for Bonten, a gang very well known for their heinous actions, all members, including Kakucho himself, have done horrible things, how could you look him in the eye, nonetheless propose having children?

❤️‍🔥 You really surprise him at every turn, don't you?

❤️‍🔥 He smiled and gave you the thumbs up. Thankfully, it didn't take very long for you to find out you were pregnant, and as your stomach grew, he read many books on parenthood, he couldn't risk his child having a childhood as rough as he did

❤️‍🔥 When you went into labor, he was scared out of his mind, all of a sudden the floor was wet and you were heaving over in pain, leaving him to carry you bridal-style as he ran to Bonten's doctor

" I think they're in labor, Doctor! " " Girls! Get her in the delivery room, stat! "

❤️‍🔥 Hearing you scream in pain made him flinch as Kokonoi and Takeomi tried keeping him from busting down the door to comfort you

❤️‍🔥 Once the doctor came outside of the room and asked for him to come inside, he burst past the man dressed in scrubs and hugged you as you laid on the bed with a blanket in your arms

❤️‍🔥 You hushed him and held up your baby girl's head, and when your husband laid eyes on his daughter, he began to tear up, he really started crying was when she gripped his finger with her tiny fist

❤️‍🔥 You guys really made this? How surprising is this, huh?

❤️‍🔥 As your son grew up, Kakucho adores messing with her hair, he always had his in a buzz-cut as he grew older, so, whenever she asked for him to braid her hair when she was small, he obliged and gave her such a cute hairstyle!

❤️‍🔥 Kakucho obligates his family in first place alongside his work, though, since he was one of the top four people in Bonten, he got quite busy, but, he always tries pushing it all away as best as he could

❤️‍🔥 Thankfully, Mikey was more lenient with that since he knew of Kakucho's family-oriented life

❤️‍🔥 He is definitely one of the best fathers in the Tokyo Revengers Universe, he wants his child to grow up in a world where they feel wanted, and that roots deep with his own childhood

❤️‍🔥 This guy is also very protective, he's lost so many people, his best friend, Izana, for example

❤️‍🔥 Anyone tries harming his daughter, there will be hell to pay.

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💰 Kokonoi, much like Kakucho, is still surprised that you wanted to be with him, but, he's also surprised that he was still with you... he believed that after the loss of Akane that he would never love again

💰 Thankfully, when you came into his life during the earlier years of Bonten to help with some issues with relations between gangs, Kokonoi began to bond with you

💰 When he asked you to marry him after a few months of dating and a couple weeks of courting, he remembers exactly how you smiled when you confirmed you wanted the same as him

💰 Kokonoi has enough resources to care for his family, so, when you proposed having children, he wasn't very worried about expenses, this guy knows so many ways of making money that even the richest people in the world would be baffled

💰 He was very excited when you found out you were having a baby, nonetheless when it was found out to be twins

💰 During your early months of pregnancy, he would grab everything for female babies and male babies, since the gender was hard to tell until your fifth month

💰 This guy was on cloud nine when notified you were both genders

💰 Now he doesn't have to worry about Mikey being mad that he bought so much male and female items for these babies

💰 Anyways, when you eventually went into labor, Kokonoi was as calm as a butterfly on the outside, while on the inside he was like a swarm of angry geese, thoughts flying faster than the snitch in Harry Potter

💰 He stayed in the room with you, allowing you to squeeze his hand, despite the immense pain you were bringing to his hands, he probably was getting bruises from your hold

💰 When the sounds of your first baby's cries entered his ears, he swore he forgot all about the pain in his hands, but, when his daughter came out just a few minutes later, his heart swooned

💰 If you've seen Friends, you might be familiar when Frank Jr. ran out to the gang and was yelling about his first child's birth, oh yeah, he definitely does that

" Yes! We have the first one down! I cannot believe I have a son... oh God! I have a Hajime Jr.! " " Has your wife even agreed to that name, Kokonoi? " " Nope! "

💰 Kokonoi held his son, whom you had to turn down his ideas of naming him Hajime Jr., and you held your daughter, and you had to turn down him naming her Sanzu-ia, he loves pissing Sanzu off too much...

💰 As your babies grew up, Kokonoi spoiled them beyond belief, and you had to hold him back from doing something stupid, like buying a TV show because his little baby girl wanted to meet a character she loved

💰 While the two grew up, he, much like Sanzu, cries at mass events for them, but, unlike Sanzu, he doesn't try holding himself back from showing his emotions to his children, prompting their embarrassment and you laughing at their antics

" Dad... please stop crying, God you're so embarrassing me... " " I can't! My babies are growing up so fast! Can you believe that just eighteen years ago you're mother was pushing you out of her- " " DAD! "

#god this took me forever to write... my hands are dying rn #Tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Rev #Bonten #Tokyo Revengers x Reader #Tokyo Rev x Reader #Bonten x Reader #S/O! Reader #F! Reader #Bonten! Manjiro Sano #Manjiro Sano #Bonten! Manjiro Sano x Reader #Manjiro Sano x Reader #Bonten! Sanzu Haruchiyo #Sanzu Haruchiyo #Bonten! Sanzu Haruchiyo x Reader #Sanzu Haruchiyo x Reader #Bonten! Kakucho #Kakucho #Bonten! Kakucho x Reader #Kakucho x Reader #Bonten! Hajime Kokonoi #Hajime Kokonoi #Bonten! Hajime Kokonoi x Reader #Hajime Kokonoi x Reader

[signedeclipse]

Please could i request a oneshot of Haganezuka meeting and falling in love with a hashira reader (Tanjiro’s older sibling) 💙💙

One More Time [Haganezuka X Reader]

Reader is Human Gender Neutral | Fluff + Romance

Recomended Song - Rather Be by Clean Bandit

It wasn't his first sword delivery, but Hotaru had never been assigned to a slayer permanently before, having only made swords for beginners of the corps or for practice, since most upper ranks in the corps chose older, more seasoned nichirin swordsmiths.

Part of him was excited, being able to tend to an individual's abilities and forge something more unique, as opposed to the clear cut ones most starter blades were.

The other part was frustrating, because it wasn't for anyone unique, no one had specifically chosen him, just a random assignment since all the others had enough to care for. Still, he tried to feel grateful that this was a chance at becoming more reputable.

He remembered his first encounter with the Kamado, the excitement at the idea of a red blade, the disappointment that followed.

It all loomed over him now that the Kamado name had long since grown. It was hard not to recognize such a unique family; a demon, one of the fastest-growing slayers, and the sun hashira. While he wasn't one to take back his words so easily, he was reminded by the chief to bite his tongue the next time he tried mouthing off to the family.

But luck had not been on his side.

When news got back to him that Tanjiro had broken his blade for the second time, Hotaru felt a mix of anger and shame.

Anger that once again his craftsmanship had not been enough, and shame at the idea that it'd likely happen again were he not more careful.

The idea flashed across his mind that his failure twice in a row might mean he would lose Tanjiro as a client of sorts, or that he would be forced to resign from being a swordsmith, so he avoided confronting or contacting him in favour of preparing himself to make the best blade imaginable.

There he was, as the sun had barely begun to rise and the sky was a mid-blue hue, casting the village and its surroundings in a cool tone. Though he slept soundly, he woke up before anyone else got the chance so he could get a head start on his exercises, which gave him time to ponder how long he had before Tanjiro came to him instead.

"So, you must be Haganezuka."

The voice almost startled him from his perch atop a cliffside, though he barely showed it besides the clenching of his fists. The voice was entirely unfamiliar, though before he could turn to look at them their presence had moved.

"Is that a yes?" You were to his right, which he turned to finally meet the individual who had managed to find him.

While still taken back by the speed at which you had moved, he was also very surprised to see the same maroon eyes as Kamado, except it was clear that you were no Tanjiro.

"Well, I'm sure you've realised who I am, but you can just refer to me as Kamado."

Hotaru had not expected your presence in the village, had you been sent in place of your brother?

"I don't have a blade ready yet." Haganezuka had bowed his head slightly. He could run and be stubborn all he wanted, but Hashira could be far more harsh in punishment.

"Blade? I'm not- no-" You had let out a string of laughs, facing away from him and covering your mouth to suppress the giggles. He looked so worried! Even if you hadn't seen his face, the atmosphere around him had certainly dropped.

"It's his first time in the village, I couldn't miss it! Well, that and my swordsmith will be retiring, so I'm here to meet some of the newer generations and pick someone I feel is capable. I was never a fan of blind recommendations." While you spoke, Hotaru had straightened out his posture and looked back out at the village, the sun now growing the area with orange rays.

You were very relaxed, and far more talkative than any hashira he had met, so any intimidation he felt melted away, especially considering you weren't here to scold him.

"Anyways, I hope you give my little brother a hard time, sometimes I think he gets it too easy because of his kindness, and he needs to be ready to combat issues that aren't life-threatening..." Judging by your words, you hadn't seen Haganezuka chasing after your sibling with knives, which relieved him.

Still pouting from his faulty blades, he kept silent, deciding he didn't want to say much if more to prove a point for himself.

By the time he glanced to his right again, you were long gone, with nothing but the imprint of where you sat left in the grass.

.

The next time he saw you, you were with Kanamori, who held two nichirin blades that had seen better days.

Having been found by Tanjiro and been given the blade he was to repair, Hotaru was on his way to eat and prepare for the gruelling 72 hours worth of work he had ahead of him.

Despite the raging inspiration he felt, you had stopped him dead in his tracks, pulling all the air from him until he felt weak again. Hotaru hadn't realised how much he'd hoped to see you again, and you were still here.

"Ah, have you met my good friend, Haganezuka?" Kanamori motioned to the taller swordsmith, who you noticed now had a wide hat fit with chimes...and his upper torso was revealed, the rest of his clothes wrapped around his waist.

You nodded, smiling and waving to the surprisingly well-built swordsmith, trying to hide your rosy cheeks with a smile.

"I have, but, it's a long story." Shrugging your shoulders, Kanamori hummed pleasantly, before returning to a slow strive towards his workshop, pulling you along considering your arms were linked.

Apparently, Kanamori had experience with dual blades, so you had chosen him for his kind personality and experience since you were a dual wielder.

Before you had entirely left, you turned to look back at Haganezuka, throwing a thumbs up.

"You better make sure this one doesn't break!! I'm trusting you!"

Of course, he would have to make the best blade he could manage, for Tanjiro; if not to prove himself as a worthy swordsmith, then to impress the eldest Kamado.

Author Note -  For some reason this took me so long to write I get procrasinating but WE GOT ER DOWN!!! Thank you for requesting <3

Word Count - 1,058

Art Credit - Kimetsu No Yaiba (2019)

#haganezuka #haganezuka x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kny oneshots #oneshot #x reader #reader insert

[dulcesiabits]

dissection of a liar.

summary: He's just a layer of lies, delicately stacked on top of one another. But who is Lyney underneath all of that?

notes: 2k words, fic, character study, heavy spoilers for lyney and lynette's backstory, a vivid depiction of murder, a depiction of physical abuse, someone looks at lynette in a weird way

“You’re not being honest with me.”

At a little cafe nestled deep within the city streets, framed by trailing ivy and the aroma of freshly roasted coffee, Lyney finds his tongue caught by the proverbial cat.

You blow on the surface of your teacup, liquid rippling with each breath, perfectly unaware that you’ve just caused his world to somersault and tumble. Lyney drums his fingers on the table, a slow accompaniment to his racing heartbeat. 

“I’m more honest with you than I would be with any other person in this city,” he says, tilting his head just so, keeping the angles of his smile relaxed, gentle. 

“Which isn’t saying much.” You take a sip of your tea, the words mingling with the steam rising from your cup. 

“Are you… mad?”

“No. I can’t force you to open up. But… I want you to be able to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” he says instantly, but it’s the wrong thing to say.

You set down your cup with a quiet clatter. “No. You keep me at an arm’s length. You’re holding back. What are you hiding, Lyney? What are you so afraid of?”

And for once, he doesn’t have the right words to say. Because you’re asking for the truth, and that’s the one thing he doesn’t know how to give you.

—

Lyney is thirteen the first time time he kills someone.

It was supposed to be a simple mission for Father; sneak into a noble’s home, steal some documents while leaving decoys behind, and abscond into the night. Quick, painless, easy. A perfect mission for his nimble fingers and quick wit, with Lynette acting as support from the outside.

But things go wrong the moment he steps foot into the mansion. Having memorized the shifts of the nightly security patrol, and knowing the right way to avoid detection from guardmeks, what he can’t account for is the off-patrol officer lounging in the room he lands in.

They stare at each other, he and this man. No, a boy, really, someone with a faint, peachy mustache, and round cheeks still shaking off the last of childhood. 

The officer raises his gun, and Lyney tenses– the window is right behind him, but the officer is blocking off the door, and if he leaves now, it would ruin everything– and then the officer hesitates. 

“You’re just a kid,” he mumbles, and Lyney could laugh. 

A bead of sweat trickles down Lyney’s neck. With each passing minute, the chance of failure grows, and with it, the risk of Father’s displeasure.

There’s a knife hidden on his leg. Father trains all the children in all the tedious minutiae of death. But it’s only supposed to be a last resort for spies such as him.

There’s a rap on the window, and Lynette’s face, ghostly in the glass, shines through. Her mouth starts to open, a silent question, and the officer whips his gun towards the noise, finger tightening on the trigger, and he’s going to shoot– she’ll be hurt– not again. Never again– And then the guard is on the floor, and there’s a knife in Lyney’s hands, and it’s over before it even begins.

But then, why is there blood? Blood, everywhere. On the carpet. On his hands. On his knife. Pooling beneath his feet, splattered in his hair. 

In the center of it all, a body.

A gash in the guard’s throat, torn flesh and blood trickling, like red jam in the center of uncooked dough. Limbs twitching, jumping, his hand opening and closing, grasping for something that’s not there. The guard gurgles, choking on his own blood. And he’s just a boy. Just a boy, really. With a patchy mustache and pimples on his face and a family back home wondering where he is– and he’s staring at Lyney and he keeps staring his eyes bluer than the sky– and he–

“We have to go.” Lynette touches his shoulder. At some point, she’d crept up besides him, avoiding the gore behind her. She shifts, blocking his view of the officer. “We attracted too much attention.”

Somehow, they make it back safely. Father only spares them a single glance at the orphanage. “I won’t tolerate any mistakes next time.” 

A warning. The implicit understanding this would be the only one he gets. 

That night, long after Lynette has drifted off, he stands in front of a porcelain sink, and scrubs. He scrubs his hands. His arms. Under his nails. Even when the water draining down the sink turns from pink to crystal clear, he can’t stop. The smell of iron and rust. The officer’s sightless eyes. He keeps washing until he can’t feel his fingers in the running water.

Just a kid. Just a kid, the officer had said. They were just kids.

For the next few years, every time he sleeps, he thinks of those eyes. Like chips of blue glass, his own pale face reflecting in their depths. 

—

Before Father, there is a noble. Richly-dressed, with fine, aristocratic features, and golden hair. A beautiful man, some might have said, but Lyney knows better. The worst monsters never looked like one. 

Once, when Lyney fumbles a magic trick in front of some important guests, the noble smiles, and excuses his behavior due to nerves. Later, when the last guest leaves, the noble guides him to the kitchen, pats his head gently, and orders the butler to lash his back until he learns his lesson. 

“Your sister will get the lashes if you mess up again,” the noble tells him as Lyney lies on the floor, barely conscious, with fire searing down his spine.

And the way the noble looks at his sister. It sets Lyney’s teeth on edge with a sheer sense of wrongness. He looks at her like she is nothing more than a body, to be used and discarded. 

“Stay away from him,” he whispers to Lynette. “Don’t be in a room alone with him if you can help it. Come find me if something happens.” 

But at the end of the day, his warnings, his attempts to protect his sister, are useless. The day he comes home and Lynette is gone, something in him breaks.

What is a child to a world so infinitely cruel and vast?

—

In this world, it’s just he and Lynette, Lynette and he. 

Since before the beginning, they have never been apart. They shared the same dream in their mother’s head, the same womb for nine months. 

His family. The only person he can trust. Before he’s a magician, a Fatuus, or even a human, he is first and foremost Lynette’s big brother.

Others can hurt them. Betray them. Use them. But Lynette? They are the same flesh and blood. If she were to be struck, he would feel the same pain. There is no world he can exist in without her by his side.

“Lynette,” he whispers, shaking her shoulder. “Wake up!”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Come on!”

It’s a quiet night at the orphanage, a few weeks after Father has taken them in. The calluses are still forming on his fingers, and his hands have yet to adjust to the bow that Father has given him.

“Fine. What do you want?” Lynette whispers, rubbing at her eyes.

“I saw something outside,” he whispers. He grabs her hands, tugging her out of bed, and Lynette only grumbles as they tumble down the hall and towards the window in the foyer, where he taps one finger against the glass.

A single arc of light darts across the sky, and when he closes his eyes, the glowing afterimage dances across the dark of his eyelids.

“Let’s make a wish on it,” he says.

“This is what you made me leave bed for?”

“Yes! For a wish!”

“Fine.” Lynette closes her eyes in thought, ears twitching in concentration. A second later, they open. “Done.”

“What did you wish for?” he asks.

“What did you wish for?” she counters.

“I wished that I could protect you forever,” he says immediately. Their hands are still intertwined, fingers mixing together like the limbs of a single beast.

“I thought you would wish for something like that,” she mumbles.

“What’s your wish?”

“Mine was to protect you,” she says. 

“I’m the big brother, though. That’s my job.”

She shakes her head. “No. We’re twins. It’s an equal duty.”

“I was born earlier.”

“That does NOT count.”

“It does.”

Lynette sighs. “But, Lyney, you’re always looking after me. Why can’t I watch over you too?”

He chews his bottom lip. “Okay, okay. We can look after each other.”

“Good.”

“But I get to look after you a bit more because I’m older,” Lyney adds. 

“Hey!”

He grins at his sister. Lyney and Lynette, Lynette and Lyney. In this world, they are nothing without each other. 

(In the morning, they will learn the streak of light was a burning airship, its wreckage hurtling through the sky. But for now, it is an inexplicable miracle). 

—

You’re like sunlight.

That’s the first thing Lyney thinks when he sees you. Warm and bright, with a lovely smile. A real one, unlike the one he has practiced to perfection. An ordinary person, with no ties to the machinations of gods and political organizations, simply trying to live your best, day by day.

Maybe that’s why his eyes can’t help but trail after you again and again. 

“Stop staring, brother. You’re drooling,” Lynette tells him dryly, and he starts.

“Lynette! Don’t tease your brother like that!” But his eyes are still glued to your figure in the distance, a basket of groceries under your arm. 

It starts, as it always does with him, a flirtation. A quick magic trick, a flower. A smooth line, quickly plucked and polished and offered to you.

“What’s this?” he says, presenting a ticket to you with a flourish. “It seems I’ve found an invitation to Lyney and Lynette’s magic show hidden behind your ear.” 

You press the ticket to your lips, and he can feel the touch tingling on his own skin. “I suppose I should stop by, then.” 

A gift here, an invitation there. A chance meeting around town. A quick trip to a bakery. Anything to see that smile of yours again, lovelier than a rose in bloom.

“Lyney,” you say to him once. “You don’t have to try so much.”

“What do you mean?” 

As you smile mischievously, his heart does an involuntary leap. “I’d like you whether you use those pickup lines on me or not. But it is cute to see you trying so hard.”

And maybe this is the real reason he makes time to see you, again and again: because you cut through him to the bone. You tilt your head, like you want to understand him, like you can see through the lies he’s lived for so long.

It’s unnerving at the same time that it thrills him. If he’s not careful, you might rip apart his lies like a house of cards, easily collapsing under your careful touch.

—

Sometimes, Lyney isn’t sure which are the lies, and which is the truth. 

Who is he, really? A magician. A Fatuus. An older brother.

A child, no matter how old he is, because a part of him is still cringing, waiting for the next blow of the lash.

If you were to cut him open, you might find the typical anatomy of a human: nerves and sinew, blood and flesh, beating arteries and pulsing organs. Or you might find nothing at all, a hollow space where a human should be. 

“I want to trust you,” he says quietly. “I just need a little bit more time.”

You stir at your tea thoughtfully. “Okay. I can wait. If you’re worried, why don’t you start with something small? Just give me a little piece at a time.”

A little piece at a time. Maybe his spleen one day. And his liver the next. Organ by organ, until there’s nothing left, and you hold every vulnerable piece of him in your hands.

One breath. Then another. And this time, not as a magician, or a liar, but just the man who loves you, he starts with a story. “A long time ago, Lynette and I lived on the streets…”

#liya writes #genshin impact #lyney #lyney x reader #genshin impact x reader #he's consumed my heart and soul so he gets TWO fics

[literaila]

still here 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: there’s an ache in me, put there by the ache in you

(for @elysian-chaos)

warnings: angst, fluff, feeling unworthy, feeling useless, you know, seperation 

a/n: ‘tis the damn season is the best song ever. dont argue 

*

there's this little thing called stress baking. 

typically, stress baking is referred to as coping by making something delicious to scavenge on, instead of dwelling on the feelings scavenging you. and typically, it's done with a certain type of elegance--one that is made up of chaos. completely insane, yet completely in control. it's a messy dance, but perfectly choreographed. 

stress baking is a very reviving task. filling up the house with muffins and pies is not only good for distracting yourself, but also for making friends when you run out of room. or smiling at the cashier every time you have to go to the store for ingredients. 

it's something you've practiced for years. something you've become somewhat addicted to. 

but then there's baking while stressed. which, you swear, hadn't been your intention. 

brownies from a box were supposed to be easy. they were notoriously easy. a couple of eggs, some oil, and some water. the hardest part of your job was mixing, but you'd done it so many times that you zoned out while doing all of it. 

box brownies were supposed to be non-stress and quick. but when you burn the brownies and batter rises over the top of your glass pan, and the oven is dirty, and the apartment smells like burnt batter and oven cleaner--well, you have to reread the directions. 

you're a good baker. you've been making cookies and cakes for parties for years. you pride yourself on not needing measuring cups because you can eye a recipe by the gram. 

not that these brownies would agree. 

and it's already five-forty-five. peter is going to be home in the next fifteen minutes and this was supposed to be a treat. something good. 

"surprise! i ruined our oven, and now we're going to have to spend the next few nights at your aunt's house in your twin-sized bed until the smell of death goes away!" doesn't typically bring out any smiles.

and peter's been stressed lately, and you've been stressed about him. 

and now you're making brownies from scratch without butter--because you used it all on the last batch, oops--and the number of candles you've lit is a sure fire hazard. 

but if peter would just smile at you, pull you in by your waist and laugh while he kissed you with a chocolate mouth, it would all be fine. 

if there wasn't so much riding on this one (two) pan(s) of brownies. like being able to sleep comfortably tonight. 

you turned the oven down, found a new pan--threw the other one out because it was nothing but a source of disappointment--and cleaned the oven just enough to not draw any suspicions. but you could still feel the failure lurking. 

peter was going to come home to a chaotic house, and it was your fault. 

so you scrubbed at the counters. fixed the stack of bills on the table so that you couldn't see any of the stamps, folded the blankets, and even swept the kitchen floor. 

still, you knew peter would know. because he always knows. and maybe that was why he was acting so weird lately--maybe that's why you were acting so weird. 

the door opened when the timer on the oven went off. 

you'd wanted to watch peter walk through the door--so you could gauge how tired he was, how miserable--but maybe it was better not to know. to let him put on a mask while your back was still turned. 

"hey, baby," he said, as you were pulling the brownies out of the oven, setting his house keys on the counter and sighing. "i'm home." 

you peeked over your shoulder, giving him a hint of a smile--the same type he was giving you. "hey, honey," you said back, "you're home." 

peter walked around the island to stand right behind you, kissing the back of your head and stealing a look over to the stovetop. he clears his throat. "brownies?" 

you shrug. "thought you might like something sweet when you got home." 

you take off the oven mitt, not really wanting to look at him--maybe because you're scared of what you'll see, or maybe just because you can already feel his eyes tearing down your skin. 

but you can feel his breath on your neck as he chuckles. his exhaustion as he leans into your back. 

"i've already got you, though," he whispers one peck at the edge of your jaw, another by your ear. 

you snort and pull away, turning so you can look at him. and then you pretend to throw up. 

he laughs and pokes your forehead.

you're not looking at him and he's not looking at you. 

you turn back to the brownies. 

"did you drop something in the oven?" peter asks, leaning his chin on your shoulder. 

"no," you answer, a bit too defensive. 

"sure?" 

"am i sure that i didn't burn something in the oven, peter? yes." 

there's a beat. "...cause it smells like it." 

you headbutt him. "you smell like it. go shower. you can't eat these yet." 

"yes, ma'am," peter takes a step back, and you look at him again.  you can see the question in his eyes, and see your own reflecting the same question. 

what are you hiding? 

"we have some ice cream, too." 

peter moans, his head back. you roll your eyes at him. 

and you start cutting the brownies, worries, and chocolate chips sticking to the knife, listening to peter's footsteps, feeling his presence sticking to you like sugar, sticky and rich, his eyes keeping you on edge. 

you know you shouldn't feel stupid--peter doesn't actually know what happened, or care--but you do. because he knows, and because even from the split second you looked at him, you could see the strain on his skin, the pressure weighing him down, dragging his feet across the floor. 

you feel stupid just because you don't know what to do. so before he can close the door, you turn around. choosing reaction instead of pretending. 

"peter?" 

he pauses, his head whipping towards you. his eyes are as soft and loving as they always are--his attention remains the same, even when his energy doesn't. like he's wasting himself away just to take care of you. 

he swallows. "yeah?" 

"are you--" you blink, look away, try not to taste burnt brownies. "are you okay? you seem tired. was work… alright? 

peter smiles, shaking his head. "just the usual, bub. work and... work. i think i'll go to bed early tonight?" 

you raise a brow. 

peter clears his throat. "i mean, i think i'll take a nap tonight before i go out." 

you nod. "okay." 

you both stare at each other for a moment. he's far enough away that it's easier. you don't have to feel his emotions as he processes them. don't have to see them from up close. 

you hate yourself for being afraid of him. for being afraid for him. 

“d’ya want to join me?” peter asks, whisper slipping from his mouth, smile taunting from his lips. “we can cuddle and eat brownies.” 

you lick your lips, shaky smile enough. “you sure? i’ve heard i can be a bit distracting…”

peter’s laugh makes his shoulders shake. “you heard correctly,” he says eyes crinkled, “but i don’t mind.” 

you nod. you’re grateful for his ease. the careful reveal of his true face, the peeling of a mask. the admittance that not everything is perfect, no matter how small. 

“go shower. i’ll get the sugar.” 

peter kisses you on the cheek before he goes.

and at least you got a couple of smiles out of him. at least you can feel his kiss lingering on your skin. 

* 

it's not that serious. honestly. 

you hardly even think about it. you're not thinking about it. 

you're not dwelling on the smell of soft skin and the feeling of calloused hands running up and down your back, the tickle of a breath against your neck. 

you're not thinking about it at all. 

and if it's been a week--or a week and a half, or two, or three--since you last spoke, or shared the same space with peter, then it's fine. 

this is something you've grown used to. something you're supposed to be used to. 

peter has obligations. 

he has things he needs to fulfill--not just for himself, but for others, for the guilt that you can see rocking his bones all of the time, the shame in his eyes when he comes home a bit too early. he has places that he needs to be, if only because he won't be able to live with himself if he's not there. 

but then again, you're not sure how to live when he's not here. especially when the sink breaks. 

still, as long as you can feel him pull you into his chest every night, imagine him kissing your forehead before falling asleep, then it's fine. 

you're not thinking about any of it because it's fine. 

but you miss him. if only momentarily. 

he'll come back--you repeat this like a promise, like it's his voice whispering it to you--because he always does. 

space is good for the heart, some part of you swears. though you don't think you could think of peter any fonder than you already do. 

he comes in too late at night and is already gone when you wake up. he texts you updates--because you've talked about communication before--and tells you that he loves you through sweet little notes he sends during the day. 

if the thing he wishes to share about his life is the worm he found in his apple, then you're perfectly happy to listen (read). 

it's normal to miss the person you love most in the world. 

and it's normal for your boyfriend to disappear for fourteen hours each day, just barely cuddling with you for three hours before he's gone again. 

it's normal for you, at least

he’ll come back. 

and so, instead of thinking about peter, and wondering when he might notice the frayed edges of your relationship, you make sure that he doesn't have to worry about anything. 

you clean up after the two of you, running the dishwasher and cleaning the bathroom, and packing him lunch on days you know he'll be gone for the office. making sure there's always something he can eat in the fridge when he gets home late at night, and texting him to know what he wants from the store. 

you make the bed and wash his clothes and hope that maybe it'll keep him from burning out. 

you hope that maybe it will keep you distracted enough to not ask him for anything. like love or support or a five-minute conversation. 

if taking care of him is the only way to keep him going--the only way to keep yourself going--then you'll do it. peter takes care of you enough. 

but even if you're not thinking about it, it's there. 

because you've just fallen asleep--which is extremely rare recently, mostly because you like to wait until you hear the window and then slow your breathing until you feel peter crawl into bed with you--and just woke up. 

woke up with sweaty skin and a headache. it's night ten and you're getting nightmares again. 

it's ridiculous that you can't even last two weeks without peter there. without him kissing you to sleep. 

and when you burst out of bed, you almost fall into him--almost scream because you're sharing the bed with someone else. 

tears are running down your face. your heart feels split open--like your dreams have revealed something inside it. 

but you look over to peter and he's there; he's still here. 

so you take a deep breath--chest caving in, body following--and you rest your head in your hands. 

if there's anything you want right now, it's for peter to wake up. 

it's for him to know all of this. 

you want him to appear next to you, leaning over your back like he's going to shelter from the world if that's what you need. rubbing your back and whispering in your ear. you want him in your house and laughing when you break the shower rod again. 

you want him to cuddle with you before he leaves, and cross his heart when you scold him while he crawls out the window. 

you want him in more than just your memory. 

but peter is snoring next to you, and so you sit there in silence until the tears begin to ease.

*

peter's not supposed to be home. 

he works until five, and then takes the subway home--and you're not expecting to see him anyway. he's been shoving his suit into the bottom of his backpack right as you pull it out of the hamper.

so it's not that unusual for you to be laying in bed, shoes and socks kicked across the floor, hands gripping for some stability, and eyes puffy and red. 

and it's not that unusual for you to squeak when the window opens, and spider-man's head peeks into your room. 

you can feel peter's wide eyes behind the mask. 

you're quick to wipe your face, throw on a clumsy smile. "peter," you say, exhaling. "what're you doing here?"  

a body crawls into the window, dirt and grime on clothes finger-tips reaching out to you. "what's wrong?" he asks, voice only slightly muffled. 

but you take a step back, moving away from him when he lands on the floor, leaving spots for you to vacuum up later. 

"what're you doing here?" you repeat, voice a bit harsher, a bit faded. 

"i need--" he reaches his hand out toward you again, retreating when you do. "i needed some more web fluid. i don't--" he shakes his head. "what happened?" 

"i, um," you wipe traitorous tears away again. "i think there's some more in the closet. i keep moving it when i'm cleaning, sorry." 

"you're crying," peter scolds. like you're being ridiculous. like you're not trying to save him the effort it's going to take to fix this irrational piece of you, these lonely broken bits. 

you bite your lip and look away. 

because although you can't even see his eyes--they are still scolding. they are quick and cruel reminders that you haven't talked to peter in two weeks. 

you turn towards your bedside table, pretending to organize the contents on top. 

you can hear peter moving. 

"what's going on, bub?" he says, soft enough for the words to crawl under your skin. he's taken the mask off. his voice is clear. 

"oh, nothing, you know," you pause, shrugging. "just the usual sad movie type of cry..." peter's hand reaches your back and you flip around, almost knocking over your lamp. 

"c'mon," he whispers to you, far closer than you'd been expecting. 

you try and take a step back, only meeting a dead-end. he's cornered you. "you should go, peter. you were just--" 

"this is more important."

you laugh. "some silly tears are more important than a collapsing building?" 

"you're more important," peter swears, his eyes so focused on yours, "to me." 

you blink and shake your head. gesture back towards the window. "go and save some people. you don't have to help me too." 

peter swallows, brows furrowed. "will you tell me what's wrong?"

"i can take care of myself, peter. you don't need to worry about it." 

"well, i'm going to." 

you roll your eyes. and then you break free of his hold, moving away from the table, from the cage he's built around you. "move along, spider-man." 

peter doesn't move any closer, but his limbs are tense. his face is concerned and hurt--you try and shield that out.

"i'm not leaving you when you're crying."

"i'm not crying anymore." 

peter scowls. "stop deflecting." 

you take a deep breath, throat dry and aching. "i'm not--" you clear your throat, shaking your head and looking away from him. "i'm fine, peter. but some people actually need you. go and save the day," you tell him. "i'll still be here when you come back." 

*

and you are. 

you're sitting on the couch, staring at photos peter took on the wall, wondering how to explain any of it. 

how to explain yourself without digging the two of you any further in this hole. 

you've been trying to prove just how little you need peter--just how useful you could be--and by doing so, you've put yourself in this situation. 

because you do need him. you just hadn't wanted peter to know that. 

so you're sitting on the couch, trying not to flinch every time the air conditioning comes on, or there's a footstep from the apartment above you. you're waiting for peter to climb in through the window, waiting to see how exhausted he is before he has to deal with you. 

and you've bitten your lip raw. completely eliminated any evidence of fingernails you once had. 

your heart stutters with every minute that comes by. 

and when you finally hear peter hop in from the fire escape, your heart stops completely. 

you wonder if he's going to change before he comes and finds you. before the inevitable happens, and you give him another reason to work so late. 

your restlessness must be audible because it only takes peter forty seconds before walking into the living room. he's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

he's wearing a frown like a well-tailored suit. known and made for him. 

you're trying not to frown back. 

"hey," you say, putting on a smile, voice flighty and an octave too high. "everything okay?" 

"no one got hurt," peter says, the antonym to your tone. 

"good." 

apparently, your tight-lipped smile isn't enough to ease the tension in the room. 

"are you ready to talk?" peter asks, slowly stepping toward you, just barely meeting your eyes. 

you'd scrubbed your face after he left. sobbed in the shower as you washed away any of the shame you hadn't meant for him to see. you'd made sure that your eyes weren't puffy, and your eyelashes were dry before he'd got home. 

so when peter scans your face--as he's doing now--he shouldn't notice anything unusual. 

besides the facade you're putting on. 

you clear your throat, eyebrows lifted like you're unconcerned. "there's not much to talk about." 

peter's sullen face doesn't move an inch. "why were you crying?" 

"i already told you. i watched a sad movie," you wave a hand, "you just came in at the wrong time." 

peter sighs. he sits down on the couch next to you, keeping his distance. "don't lie." 

you frown. "i'm not lying." 

"you've got some pretty obvious tells, you know," peter whispers, giving you a hint of a bittersweet smile. "you don't have to talk to me. but i'd like it if you did. i just want to make sure that you're... okay." 

"i'm fine, peter." 

he looks away. "and if you're not then we'll figure it out. i just want to know." 

"well, you do." 

peter opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head. 

he's sitting three feet away from you, but his hands are clasped together, his legs are opposite of yours, and he can't even look at you. 

you can feel it, as you push him away. as you try so desperately to hold him close without touching him. 

"okay," peter says, eyes meeting yours again. "i don't want to push you." 

no, but he should pull you off of this ledge. should keep you from falling any further than you already have. 

you shake your head, laughing. it's not funny. 

"what?" 

you close your eyes. count to ten. forget how to breathe, or how to speak to the person you love most in this world. 

"what?" peter repeats, but softer. 

you open your eyes. 

and then it all crumbles. 

you scoff. "can you stop looking at me like that?" you plead, breaking away, physically distancing yourself from him. 

"like what?" 

it's his fault, really, for coming home so early in the day. 

"like you can't deal with this. like this is exhausting." 

the tears sneak up on you, knocking you out before you even notice that they're there. 

peter's eyes are wide as he stares at you. "you're not--" he swallows, frantically reaching towards you. "this isn't exhausting--i'm not--" a moment, tears beginning to fall. "what do you--" 

you sigh, shaking your head. "you're always gone, and you come home exhausted every night after you think i've fallen asleep, and you only talk to me through text, and even now you just--" you stop, voice breaking. "if you can't do this," you say, softly, "then you should just tell me." 

peter is closer than he was a moment ago. "what?" 

"i know this is a lot of work, okay? and i know that you're already pushing yourself, so it's fine if i'm too much. if--if loving me is too much." 

there's a moment of silence, and you're almost sure that peter has already left. 

but then there's a thumb wiping a tear from your cheek. you can't open your eyes, can't face the reality you've been desperately holding off. 

"you're not too much." 

peter moves closer to you, his leg touching yours, his hands moving so that he can hold you closer. 

you couldn't push him away if you tried. 

"you're not too much," he repeats, the words sinking into your skin, his breath meeting yours. "i can't believe you would think that." 

you half laugh, half sob. peter wipes away those tears too. 

"you're the only thing keeping me going," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "i'm sorry i haven't been there. i didn't realize..." he shakes his head. 

"you shouldn't have to take care of me as much as you do," you whisper. 

peter nudges his head against yours. "hey. you take care of me way more than i take care of you. you clean up after me and stay up with me when i can't sleep. you help fix my suits, and do all of the laundry. and you never complain. you're practically my guardian angel." 

"that's all easy." 

"not for me," peter says, voice lighter than before. 

you shrug. 

"but you do all of that cause you love me," he adds, kissing your forehead again. "or, i hope that's why." 

"it's the sex." 

peter laughs, nuzzling his head into you. "well, at least you're honest. but, it's the same reason that i take care of you. you shouldn't feel... guilty because of that. you're no burden on me." 

"no?" 

"absolutely not." 

you bite your lip. try and believe peter. but honestly, you're most lovesick from how close he's holding you. how you can feel his skin and listen to him speak somewhere that isn't your bed. you're not quite sure that this isn't a dream. 

"hey," peter moves his head so you're looking at him. "we suck." 

you laugh, leaning your forehead against his. 

"i'm sorry it's been so long since we've... anything. it's been a rough couple of weeks." 

"for me too. it's not your fault." 

"you have to tell me if it's not enough, okay? i don't want you to suffer through it by yourself. if you need to talk to me--even for ten minutes--then you have to let me know." 

"okay." 

"do you promise?" 

you nod against him, nose brushing his cheek. "i promise, peter." 

peter smiles, satisfied. he groans, pulling you even closer to him. "i love you, bug. so much." 

you can barely hear him because of how tight he's hugging you. it sort of hurts, but mostly heals. 

"i know," you say back. but peter probably can't hear you, because you say it right into his shirt. 

*

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl    invisibletrolleyson-jeremy  @sharkswaters  @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

#peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fic #tasm!peter smut #tasm #the amazing spider-man #The Amazing Spider Man #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter angst #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm x reader #tasm x you #andrew garfield #Andrew!Spiderman #andrew!peter smut #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x you #andrew garfield!peter parker imagine #spider-man #spider man #spider man x reader #spider man x you

[some-pers0n]

Turtle's arc is so subtle yet so good and I love it a lot, which sucks since I've seen a number of people write him off as just "socially awkward kid who is boring", which?? No??? Gimme a second just to ramble, okay?

Turtle has terrible self-esteem issues and an inferiority complex. He puts himself down, calling himself boring, stupid, and generally useless constantly in his internal dialogue. He's kind and sweet and really well meaning, but he's socially awkward and shy and can't exactly strike up a conversation.

He's like this in due part of being one of Queen Coral's many...many sons. Christ alive this woman had thirty-two sons-- but that's besides the point. He's just another dragon. He's not old enough to be a leader, but not young enough to exactly be any special. He's a middle child. He's a nobody. Just another SeaWing prince who's destined to either run away or to become a military general.

The one time Turtle was ever truly acknowledged was when the night happened with his father, Gill. Gill needed Turtle to fetch one of the royal guards so that they could protect Queen Coral's eggs. But, Turtle couldn't find them. He failed. Gill lashes out, snapping back at Turtle for his inability to do such a simple task and killing the eggs in the process. Turtle internalized this moment. He was useless. He's a nobody, and when he's forced to be somebody, he'll just fail and let everyone down.

Thus, he doesn't see himself as anything special. A fuck up if anything; which makes it all the more ironic that he's an animus dragon. He's literally got the most powerful, special ability in the entire continent, and more than anything he's self-conscious and terrified of it as he would then be pushed into the limelight over it. Because of it, Turtle has made some...rather selfish choices every now and then. The incident with Anemone was created solely because he was petrified of being put on a pedestal. He doesn't want to be some grand dragon. So, he diverted attention away from him and enchanted Anemone to have magic.

Turtle doesn't want to make choices or do anything out of fear of failure and letting others down. Worse is if he's discovered to be an animus, where he's then elevated to such high expectations that he is convinced he will never be able to accomplish. He's held back by his own perceived inadequacy. He doesn't think highly of himself. He doesn't want the spotlight as he's both afraid of being seen and afraid of what those people will say when he lets them down.

He blended into the background in Moon Rising. Moon herself was confused by not being able to read his thoughts, which turned out to be because of the Magic Plot Rock we all know and love as skyfire. However, as the rest of the Jade Winglet ran off when Moon revealed to have been a mind reader, Turtle stuck around. He related to that. He felt pity and understood Moon the most. They are most like one another anyways, with the both of them being ashamed of their own powers and fearing being rejected by their loved ones the most.

He's a deeply kind and considerate soul who wants nothing more than to help people. He cares for Moon and wants to comfort her when she's at her lowest. He is so sweet, but he does it in a quiet, deeply personal way. He doesn't like big gestures or calling attention upon himself. He just likes being close to another. I feel he connected most with Moon because he found his own insecurities and fears in her and related to that. He found another person like him.

The Jade Winglet helps Turtle a lot with his own issues. Slowly throughout the series, he grows a little more confident of himself. His kindness is shown yet again with him becoming friends with Peril. Again, relating and sharing experiences of having powers and abilities that others want to take advantage of and unwillingly push them into roles they wouldn't want. He laughs, jokes, and playfully banters with her. He's getting better and better.

And then...Darkstalker.

Darkstalker throws a wrench into everything. Turtle reverts instantly back to his scared, cowardly ways. He enchants a stick to hide himself from Darkstalker, instantly sensing that Darkstalker hated him. He feels powerless to stop Darkstalker. What could he do?? Well, he could try to use his magic, but that would mean he steps out into the spotlight! He's seen! But this is serious. Darkstalker is massive, has animus magic, can read minds, and can see into the future. Turtle is just a kid. He's a nobody. He can't do anything.

He's scared. He feels useless and afraid. He's no hero. He doesn't want to be a hero. He's nothing like the heroes from legend. He's nobody.

Over the course of his book, we see Turtle quietly observe and stand by as Darkstalker takes over Jade Mountain Academy. He's plotting and planning, feigning his kindness and basking in the praise and worship others are giving him. Darkstalker is the antithesis to Turtle. He freely uses his magic without care and, more than anything, wants to be seen and witnessed by others. He loved the attention that his magic brings him. If somebody doesn't like him, then he either kills them off or brainwashes them into liking him. He's the polar opposite of Turtle in every way.

And you know who else is like that? Anemone.

Anemone is corrupted and warped even more by Darkstalker. Before hand, she was a kid who had just been released from the suffocating life as Queen Coral's only daughter. Darkstalker saw her as a pawn he could exploit. He encouraged her to be more risky and daring with her magic. He whispered into her ear and tells her that she's able to do anything. He's grooming a child he's grooming a child--

Regardless, Turtle feels guilty for everything Anemone has been put through. He doesn't fully understand the extent to which she had suffered as being physically tied to her mother at all times and being trained as a living weapon, but he feels so much guilt over it. Because of his inability to take accountability and risk being seen, he made a selfish, half-formed enchantment that was supposed to be a quick fix. He did not fully think of the consequences, and yet here they are before him.

As the book goes on, we see Turtle slowly but steadily try to form a resistance movement against Darkstalker. He had been watching and eventually found himself alone with Qibli and Winter. Winter, who was still heavily under the "Darkstalker is good :))))" spell, refused to listen as Turtle told them about it. Qibli, who wasn't affected, understood. For one of the first times ever, Turtle used his magic for another. Well, he also enchanted Kinkajou's skyfire so that she would be almost invisible to Darkstalker, but that would require me spending two seconds thinking about where that scene leads to (the love spell) and I'd rather not.

Anywho, Turtle is still insecure and afraid, but he's slowly becoming more sure of himself. He knows Darkstalker is evil and he wants to take him down. He's deeply afraid of him though, as he knows Darkstalker will kill him. He still feels useless and scared.

Until finally he has to act.

Anemone, coaxed by Darkstalker into doing this, goes off to kill Queen Coral and her entire family. Anemone is convinced this is what she deserves after being a terrible mother. Suddenly, Turtle realizes that his little mistake of giving Anemone god powers now has consequences and his family is going to die.

The guilt he feels is immense, but he needs to stand up. He can't sit idly anymore and let the world pass him by. He needs to stop her. He's the only one who can match her power. He has to fight her. He has to warn everyone. He has to do something heroic and terrifying.

He confronts Anemone on the beach. For the first time, he stands up for himself. He doesn't back down when she barks at him and demands he leaves. She tries to kill him, only for him to finally reveal himself. He's admitting to his mistakes. His guilt. He knows that she's not going to have a good reaction. Yeah so Anemone then tries to kill him via animus magic. The pair fight, with Turtle wining in the end.

Yada yada the book ends with Turtle having his magic taken away, but over the course of the book (as well as bleeding into DOD), Turtle has grown significantly in terms of his fears and anxieties. He's able to make a stand for himself and actively try to make things better. He's scared and still socially awkward, but he's, well, a hero in some semblance. Something he thought was the most terrifying thing possible for him he does.

Turtle is a naturally kind and considerate soul. He wants to help others, and when he does hurt them it eats away at his heart. He's afraid of conflict and prefers to be a doormat if it means he can slip through the cracks and come out unscathed.

Through the books however, he grows into a more upstanding and confident character. He's less prone to self-deprecation and letting others take advantage of him. He doesn't let things pass by and get himself into terrible situations through in-action. Through the support of his friends (and going through traumatizing scenario after traumatizing scenario) he is marginally better. Not fixed, but good enough to be happy and still the same, socially awkward but incredibly kind Turtle.

He's a character who I think a lot of people can see themselves in, and his arc in particular is one I feel many should aspire to. To stand up for themselves. To mend and fix the mistakes they've made and try to do better. Problems can't be fixed by some other hero. You have to take initiative. Stand up. Be the hero you need.

#wof #wings of fire #sp-rambles #turtle wof #Hey WoF people I decided to think again

[anghraine]

On the one hand, I absolutely love the high tragedy of Denethor's arc in the book, think it's amazingly well-written, and that he is one of the most complex and fascinating characters that Tolkien ever wrote.

On the other, there's part of me that's also a little frustrated by how much it has to happen because Tolkien kind of wrote himself into a corner with the Ruling Stewards. He's insistent on a few things about them:

Their initial rise to power as perma-regents of Gondor was squeaky-clean. Mardil was a paragon of virtue, he tried to prevent Eärnur from getting himself killed, there were no clear successors, and retaining the regency prevented another Kinstrife and created a stable institution that would hold Gondor together for 900+ years after the failure of the kings.

They are a high Númenórean family descended from Elendil, even if they're not formally of the line of Elendil (for unknown reasons, but most likely because they're descended through women).

Denethor is notably very similar to Aragorn, in intellect, wisdom, stature, ability, even appearance. He is a towering and respected figure, and he and his sons are highly popular with their people (even with children).

Denethor's military tactics in the book are very good, and UT says Sauron hoped Denethor would be less prepared than he actually was.

Denethor is proud, unbending, and personally dislikes and distrusts Aragorn. He thinks Gandalf is using him against Sauron for now while planning for Aragorn to take power later (this is filtered through his pride but ... um, is he wrong?).

Faramir, now Denethor's last heir, is a fantastic if reluctant warrior and captain, a super special Númenórean throwback, and a thoughtful, intelligent, and wise person who is humbler than Denethor, but also established as wary about Aragorn.

Gondor formally rejected the claim of Aragorn's family before the Ruling Stewardship even existed.

What all this means is that Denethor, if alive, is someone who will never willingly give way to Aragorn. Denethor has legal precedent on his side, he is himself a perfectly good ruler from a long-standing, stable, legitimate ruling family and a highly capable military leader in war, he is liked by his people, and he even has a viable heir regardless of the personal strain between him and Faramir.

There's just no reason for Aragorn to take power that Denethor, as written, would find remotely persuasive. But Denethor is also too noble and capable and special for a power grab on Aragorn's side to feel right, esp given how destructive it would be in the middle of a war (as Aragorn acknowledges!). Despite the sparkly kingliness and mystical airs, this is fundamentally a dynastic dispute between two different houses descended from Elendil, based on the minutia of Gondorian and Númenórean law and precedent, and a fight over that is ... not the kind of story this is.

Denethor has to be driven to self-destruction by the plot so that Aragorn's rise can happen. It simply would not occur if Denethor was alive and in his right mind. Faramir has to be mystically healed by Aragorn so that his reservations will dissolve and he will voluntarily remove himself from the picture in a way that doesn't feel bad.

And both scenes are fantastic, and make sense for the characters. But I do feel that they kind of get steamrollered by the plot to make way for Aragorn.

The thing that makes that doubly fascinating, though, is that Tolkien didn't have to prop the House of the Stewards up so thoroughly. He could have written a version where the Stewards are inadequate or really sketchy or simply can't be compared to Aragorn's greatness and it's clear why they should be replaced by him and his house. Tolkien could have made this a lot easier for himself! And I do respect the more difficult and nuanced approach Tolkien took with the Stewards by making them genuinely impressive and noble and capable in their own right and not just cardboard-cutouts for Aragorn to kick over.

But, well.

#anghraine babbles #long post #legendarium blogging #legendarium fanwank #húrinionath #denethor #faramir #mardil voronwë #etc #ondonórë blogging

[viennacherries]

I encroach upon ye with a request

Zevlor breeding kink with like, his long term partner who can’t get pregnant for one reason or another (whether you write them as amab or an afab person who is sterile/lacking a functional uterus is up to you)

Zevlor deserves to be really a little bit feral about his partner yk?? Let the man loose himself, it’d be good for the self-loathing imo (/hj)

hi bestie!! my first time trying to write zevlor so i hope u like it! mwah

CONCEPTION

Zevlor/Tav | NSFW | 2,898 words

Summary:

“Tav…” He can hear the grumble in his own voice, watches as it washes over her and she shivers. “Come here.” She shakes her head slowly, a teasing smirk flitting across her face. When she speaks, it's a breath. “Come and get me.” ~~~ Tav and Zevlor want a baby, but things are rarely that simple.

Read it on AO3!

How long has it been now? Several months, at least. And yet he can't give her the one thing she yearns for more than anything. The gift of motherhood. 

Zevlor is certain it’s something wrong with him, because of course it must be. Perhaps it’s a punishment from the Gods for his failures against his kin. Perhaps they’ve deemed him unworthy and made him barren as penance for his sins. Him, an oath-broken paladin who couldn't resist the call of a false deity and sacrificed his people in his hubris, and her, the Hero of Baldur’s Gate who had been ready to sacrifice everything for a whole city of people she owed nothing to. He is broken and flawed in every way she is perfect and faultless. 

And, Hells , does it hurt. Because there's nothing he wants more than to make her happy. There’s nothing he wants more than to start a family with her, to see her hold their child in her arms and to place a kiss to both of their foreheads. There’s nothing more that he wants than to be a father and navigate the turmoils of parenthood with her by his side. 

And yet he keeps failing her. 

The worst part is, he’s fucking enjoying it. Laying with her every night, pumping his seed into her while she begs him to fill her. His infernal hindbrain lavishes in hearing her plead for his spend, in holding her down and filling her repeatedly, in watching his cum spill out of her and fingering it back inside her cunt to make sure not a drop is wasted. Some nights she’ll beg him to fuck her again and again, over and over until they’re both sore and exhausted, and he fucking loves it. 

But other nights, he’ll wake while the sky is still dark to a cold bed, and hear her sobbing in the other room. He’ll reach out his hand and be met with a small damp circle in the centre of the sheets, and he’ll know her cycle has come again. He’ll rise and find her, holding her while she sobs, and wonder how much longer he can stand to see her like this. 

And then they do it all again. 

He’s training in the low sun of the afternoon when she finds him, he feels her eyes on him and catches her leaning against a post from the corner of his vision. She looks radiant as always, wearing her favourite blouse and a skirt he doesn't recognise. 

He usually trains while she runs errands. It’s nothing as intensive as when he was a Hellrider; his joints complain far more these days. A young man he is not, but he still tries to keep himself in shape. Tav can more than hold her own, but he prides himself in feeling able to protect her, needs to know he’s strong enough to keep their family safe. So, when she travels into town for groceries, or visits the children at school to teach them about the Battle for Baldur’s Gate, he takes himself to the drill field on the outskirts and sharpens his sword. 

They’ve made their home in the burgeoning community Halsin has built in the Reclaimed Lands, and she’s absolutely thriving. Retirement from the adventuring life suits her. That's not to say she’s idle, but seeing her able to relax and travel for pleasure rather than a need to outmarch death fills him with joy. 

It’s been a few days since he’s seen her, her trip to the Grove taking longer than usual on this occasion. He’s a soldier, though, so of course he finishes his set before he turns to her (plus it sends a thrill through him, knowing she’s watching him, though he won't ever mention that to her). He wipes his brow along the back of his arm, spears his sword into the earth, and opens his arms wide to her. She giggles as she throws herself into his embrace and he swings her around in circles. That’s the other benefit to keeping up his training, being able to lift and carry her and hear the elated squeals she lets out. It makes him feel a far more youthful man than he is. 

Before he can ask how her trip went, she's kissing him deeply and smiling against his lips. Yet another way being with her makes him feel young; the way her every touch sends heat through his body as though he’s a virginal adolescent. Hells, he loves her so much. 

When she pulls away she’s grinning, and he can't help but return it. “Good journey, I take it?”

She laughs, and the sound is so weightless and musical it makes his head spin. 

“ Great trip! I have something for you - for us!”

He raises an eyebrow in question. She often brings him back little trinkets and treats from the Grove but it’s rare she’s this excited to give him them. 

Scratch bounds up to her before he can ask any questions and practically clings to her, and her beautiful laugh is back again. Whatever queries he may have had are forgotten as she kneels, cackling as Scratch smothers her face in sloppy kisses.

Usually she’ll bring back a brace of rabbits or pheasants that she’s hunted on the trek back, but she tells him excitedly as she brings out the meat for dinner that she managed to snag a deer. She stopped at a small trading post, where they butchered it for her and she traded them everything that wouldn't keep. She holds the venison steaks up proudly and he applauds her as she takes a deep bow, laughing her way through it. She also foraged some fresh herbs and wild garlic, and the traders gave her some asparagus and carrots in return for the doe. 

As usual, he offers to cook, and as usual he’s swatted out of the kitchen, so instead he vows to do the dishes and takes the time to set the table. He feels so lucky to be privy to the mundanity of domestic life with her, so he takes pride in setting their cutlery and placing the table mats down. He lights a few candles, too, because he’s nothing if not a romantic. Tav deserves candlelit dinners. 

He’s still not used to the way she looks after him. A lifetime of bachelorhood and swordsmanship doesn’t prepare a man for gentle touches and lovingly cooked meals. Zevlor considers himself a reasonably talented chef, and he’s not some invalid that never learnt how to do his own laundry, and yet Tav always insists on doing these things for him. He’s quite sure he’s never known a love like it. He’s so used to being relied on, and it took a long time to wrap his head around the idea of letting Tav carry some of his burdens. They lean on each other, they give each other balance and stability. 

Still, it’s always a competition to see who notices the washing on the line is dry first, and they’re often racing one another to take it down. 

Dinner is delicious, as always. The vegetables are roasted in honey and garlic, and she’s cooked the venison in butter which has it tender and flavourful. She even pours them both a glass of wine, and it pairs beautifully. 

When they’ve both eaten, the dishes washed and the candles extinguished, she’s practically vibrating with excitement. 

“My dear,” he says at last, as he watches her shuffling from one foot to the other, “are you going to tell me what has you so agitated?”

She grins and grabs his hand, standing in front of him, and the words burst from her almost immediately.

“It’s me, Zev. I’m the problem.”

He feels his face twist in confusion and sorrow. It’s not hard to deduce what she’s talking about, but he’s not quite sure why that fills her with such glee. 

“Tav… I’m sorry, I-”

She interrupts him with a finger over his lips. “No, no you don't understand. I spoke to Nettie. She says I can have children, I just don't ovulate at regular intervals. She said the reason we've not been able to conceive is because I have a hormone imbalance, not because either of us are sterile.” 

He lets her announcement wash over him. The thought that all of their issues have been poor timing and unfortunate happenstance is… Almost unbelievable. He’d resigned himself so fully to the idea that he was the issue, finding out that isn't the case makes his heart stop in his chest. 

“How do you-”

She interrupts again, “Nettie gave me a brew when I arrived, to balance my hormones. It’s why I stayed in the Grove a few extra days, so she could test them for me. She says everything is as it should be now. She says…” A blush rises over her cheeks, though the ecstatic smile over her features doesn't falter. “She says if we try now she suspects we’ll have no problems.”

He feels his own blush rising to his face, mostly due to the fact that Nettie now knows far more about his sex-life than he’d hoped to share with anyone ever . He opens his mouth to speak but she’s talking again before he can. 

“And, just to be safe, she brewed me a concoction with Mandrake. She said it tastes foul, but that it boosts fertility.” A smirk rises on her face, and she rises on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. Her breath is warm on his ear and he shivers. “I mixed it into my wine.”

The groan he lets out is involuntary, and it resonates low in his chest like a purr. The sudden switch from confused and sad to elated and turned on has his head spinning, and as she walks him backwards towards their bed he feels his cock rush to attention. 

A single hand in the centre of his chest pushes him back and down, and he sits staring at her from the mattress. She takes two steps backwards and slowly begins unbuttoning her blouse. 

“Zev…” His name on her tongue is like honey. He’s certain she does it on purpose and it drives him wild. “I want you to breed me, darling. Want you to fill me with your babies.”

He clenches his jaw and digs his nails into his thighs. He knows exactly what game she’s playing. She loves to unravel his sensibilities until he’s squirming - until he can't help but rut into her like a wild creature. She knows just how to toy with him to bring his infernal heritage to heel til she gets exactly what she wants. 

She chuckles at his reaction, because obviously she does. “You want that, love? Want to mount me and fill me up?”

The noise he makes at that is closer to a growl than anything else, and he nods tensely. She giggles and lets her blouse drop from her shoulders, and hells, of course she isn't wearing a brassiere. The realisation that she’s been planning this, waiting for this, drives him insane. Suddenly the new skirt makes far more sense. It takes all of his restraint to stay seated where he is.  

Tav brushes a thumb over each of her nipples and lets out an exaggerated keen, which has his cock twitching and straining against his trousers. 

“Tav…” He can hear the grumble in his own voice, watches as it washes over her and she shivers. “Come here.”

She shakes her head slowly, a teasing smirk flitting across her face. When she speaks, it's a breath. 

“ Come and get me .”

Every shred of control he has snaps and he’s on her in an instant, pulling her against his body in one long stride. He hikes her legs up around his waist and holds her there, drawing her as close to himself as he possibly can and bringing their lips together in a bruising kiss. She tightens her legs around him and moans into his mouth and, fuck, he wants her so badly. He spins and drops her down onto the bed, and she gasps as she lands on it. 

She looks a picture like this; skirt sitting high on her thighs with her tits hanging heavy on her chest. An image of her sitting like this, round and full with his child, fills his mind. He imagines her breasts full, imagines her body swelling with pregnancy, and Gods if it doesn't make his cock ache. 

“You…” His voice comes out strained, gravelled and thick. “Are such a tease . I try to be polite and you push…” He moves to stand closer, her head level with his stomach. “... and push…” He puts one hand on her shoulder, easing her backwards and hovering above her. Her legs fall open and he stands between them. “... and push …” He rolls his hips against her core and she throws her head backwards with a moan. “... until I can't help but fold you over, hm? Is that what you want, my love? You want me to use your body til you’re good and bred?”

Hells, she’s making so many needy noises and he’s barely touched her yet. She nods hurriedly, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up to suck a bruise onto his neck, and fuck he loves when she marks him. He moans and tips his head to give her better access, and he feels Tav smile against his skin as she nibbles at him. 

He slips a hand under her skirt and moans at the realisation that she’s not wearing underclothes either. 

“Hells, Tav, you’re so needy for it. You sat there like this the whole time we ate, desperate for me, hm?”

“ Yes , Zev, Gods . Need you.” Her voice is breathy.

He wants to be teasing, wants to wind her up the way she does to him, but he’s not strong enough. Hearing her beg for him has his face full of heat and has his head swimming. “Can I taste you, love?”

She starts to give her assent, but he’s dropping to his knees before she even finishes getting the words out, lifting her skirt and burying his face in her core. The scent of her drives him wild, and the taste of her musk on his tongue as he drags it through her slick has him moaning into her. Her hands lace into his hair as he sucks her clit between his lips, teasing and tasting her until she’s writhing and keening and cumming into his mouth. 

She drags him back up, kisses him deeply, and the feeling of her tongue massaging against his is so erotic that he can't help grinding against her again. He can feel the wet heat of her cunt leaving a damp patch on the front of his trousers and he knows he can't wait any longer to have her. 

He manages to pry himself away and strips unceremoniously, letting himself languish for a moment in the heated way she stares at his body. The scars and infernal ridges littering his body have always, to him, been unattractive, but she looks at him every time like she can't bear to look away. No one has ever looked at him the way Tav does, and it lights his whole being on fire. 

There's no more conversation needed. He lays himself over her, folds her legs up towards her chest and sinks deep into her heat, and she throws her head back and whines as he fills her. With her legs pushed up like this he can fill her entirely, and the way she clenches around him has him gritting his teeth and grinding deeper into her body. 

“I’ll keep you here all night, if that's what you want, love. Fill you til you’re certain you’ll burst. Can't wait to see you full with my child.”

She tries to reply, but he chooses that moment to fill her with a deep thrust from tip to root, and her eyes roll back into her head as she frees a leg from his grip, digging a heel into his rear and pulling him deeper. With every thrust of his hips she keens, louder and louder until her cries reach a crescendo, and then she’s sobbing her way through her second orgasm and clenching her walls around his cock. 

The wet, tight squeeze of her cunt means it doesn't take long for him to reach his own end, spilling himself inside her just like she asked, kissing her lovingly through it. Every twitch of his cock makes her sigh and clench him harder, milking him of every drop of his cum until he’s laying boneless over her. 

Their heavy breaths mingle together as they share deep, meaningful kisses. When he tries to remove himself from her, she wraps her legs around him and shakes her head. 

“You said you’d keep me here all night. I hope you intend to keep that promise. I want… I want you to stay inside. I want to feel you get hard, and then I want you to fuck me full again.”

And hells, her words have his spent cock twitching valiantly, aching to take her again despite it being too soon, so he tells her yes as he leans in to kiss her again. 

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 smut #bg3 requests #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 fluff #zevlor bg3 #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #zevlor x tav

[bitchy-craft]

Bibliomancy Messages For You | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find a few bibliomancy messages for you! I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterlist > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

The only way to do great work is to love what you do.

You have within you right now, everything you need to deal with whatever the world can throw at you.

The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.

The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today.

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.

Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.

The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.

If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.

It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

Pile 2:

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.

The only impossible journey is the one you never begin.

It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.

Believe you can and you're halfway there.

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: It is the courage to continue that counts.

You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.

The purpose of our lives is to be happy.

If you want to lift yourself up, lift up someone else.

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.

Pile 3:

The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today.

You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.

Success usually comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it.

The best way to predict the future is to create it.

Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.

The purpose of our lives is to be happy.

Do not wait for leaders; do it alone, person to person.

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.

Change your thoughts and you change your world.

Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.

#pap #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a photo #pick a number #pick an image #pick a picture #spirituality #spiritual #divination #channeling #channeled message #channeled reading #channeled messages #tarot #tarot reading #tarot deck #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarotoftheday #dailytarot #daily tarot #tarot daily #tarot readings #bibliomancy #reading #free tarot #free tarot reading #witchcraft

[neteyamsoare]

Never Give Up.

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Neytiri Sully & Fem! Daughter! Lo’ak’s twin! Omatikaya! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Request From [🫧 anon]. It’s me! 🫧, rising from the grave with an idea. I need some mama bear Neytiri I beg ;-; just comforting reader who’s unsettled at Awa’atlu and isn’t coping well with the change? I’m so sorry I’ve been like completely dead for like a month, I’m nearly through it lmao and hopefully I’ll be haunting your inbox again 😅

༉‧₊˚. Summary. After moving to the Metkayina, you watch your siblings easily adapt while you still struggle making you feel like a failure.

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Hurt — Comfort.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Crying, reader having doubts about herself, headcanons format intended, and some fluff at the end.

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 645.

༉‧₊˚. Index. Sa’nok — [mother].

༉‧₊˚. Notes. 🫧 anon I hope you like this, I always love it when you come into my inbox with requests or just to talk since you were my first emoji anon and you have been with me for the longest. I really liked how I did this since I love writing comforting fics so I hope y’all like it as well. I honestly thought I wouldn’t get it done on time but I did, finished it at 2 am in the morning!!

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist

𝜗𝜚 — "You're quiet today," Neytiri observed as she looked up from her basket and looked over at you, watching the forcefulness of your hand movements, the frown that sat on your face as your eyebrows were scrunched together, and the agitated tail behind you. “What’s wrong?” 

𝜗𝜚 — “Nothing is wrong, Sa’nok, I’m fine,” you lied but Neytiri saw through it knowing that something was bothering you and she wasn’t going to give it up. “[Name]...” She began this time using a gentle maternal tone that you knew all too well. 

𝜗𝜚 — Letting out a sigh, you stop weaving and try to avoid her eye contact, you knew she wouldn’t let it go so why not come out with it? “Why can’t I be like them?” you mumbled thinking she didn’t hear you but she did. “What do you mean?” she queried as she moved closer to you, taking a braid out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. 

𝜗𝜚 — You move away from her touch and her ears flatten against her head in sadness, you used to always lean into her touch when you were younger, it’s really hitting her that you’re growing away from her. “Why can’t I be like Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, hell even Lo’ak,” you mumbled. “They’re easily adapting here and I still can’t get it right?”

𝜗𝜚 — “Back in the forest, everything came to me easily but now…” you take a breath as you try to fight back the tears from falling.

𝜗𝜚 — “Now everything is hard for me and I’m always the one left behind because I can’t manage to hold my breath longer…” The tears rolled down your cheeks as you let out a sob and Neytiri's heart broke to see you like this, she immediately pulled you into her embrace holding you tightly.

𝜗𝜚 — “I’m sorry, I’m such a failure.” you wept as you buried your face in her chest. 

𝜗𝜚 — “Hey, stop that, you can never be a failure in my or your father's eyes,” she coos softly as she rubs your back.

𝜗𝜚 — “You should never compare yourself to other people, you’re you and that’s what matters to us.” She says as she pulls away from the hug to wipe the tears off your beautiful face, she saw a lot of her in you at this moment since you shared a lot more of Jake’s traits and smiled a bit.

𝜗𝜚 — “We all learn at our own paces, you’re not going to get everything so quickly.” She comments as she looks down at you with a soft gaze.

𝜗𝜚 — “Your father did not pass his first training with Tsurak just like how years ago, he didn’t get things on the first try just like you. She smiled as she remembered the moments when she had to teach Jake. “But he never gave up and kept trying and gave it his best.”

𝜗𝜚 — “You have what it takes to learn to adapt, don’t give up so easily.” You nod your head quietly as you rub your eyes a bit, letting out a small smile. “Also don’t bottle this all up inside you, your father, siblings, and I are here to talk or when you need a shoulder to lean on.” 

𝜗𝜚 — “Alright, I’ll come to you next time,” she smiles at your response and pulls you in for a hug. “I’ll keep trying, I won’t give up,” you assure her. “Good.”

𝜗𝜚 — “Would you talk to me about your crush on the Chief’s son?” She queried as you pulled away, she raised an eyebrow bone and your face began to heat up and a flustered smile showed up on your face.

𝜗𝜚 — “W…what crush? I don’t like him at all.” You stutter but all Neytiri does is smile, seeing through that lie but she doesn’t say anything, just simply lets out a laugh and goes back to weaving her basket.

🔖 @zanabelle99, @neteyamyawne, @moonchildxoxx, @jakescumdump, @saeayanaa, @btsiguess-kpop, @sweetdayme4427, @neytiriandronalswife, @angelsamor, @23victoria, @tsireqas, @kittenw, @valentinqee, @kiriswifejayden, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @crustyboypix, @ducks118, @lilmackiee, @kasai-https, @neo-novaa, @minniere, @devluvsloak.

© neteyamsoare 2023. | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

#ಣ : sylaphone #neytiri x fem!reader #neytiri x y/n #neytiri x reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neytiri x you #neytiri sully x reader #atwow x you #atwow x y/n #atwow x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #avatar x reader #avatar x na'vi reader #avatar x child!reader #avatar x fem reader #atwow headcanons #avatar headcanons #avatar the way of water #atwow fanfiction

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - Can’t Break Up Now [Old Dominion & Megan Moroney]

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Fem!reader

Word Count: 904

Warning(s): talk of major fight, self deprecating thoughts, thoughts of self harm

I promise this fic will not hit the same if you don’t listen to the song while reading. This song quickly became my favorite as soon as I heard it, and I knew it just had to be a Jack fic.

—————————————

You know the color of my coffee

Too many t-shirts in my closet that you bought me

At this point, I can't unlearn the things you've taught me

About myself

It was our biggest fight yet. Jack and I had both said things we didn’t mean. We were scared of the unknown. Scared of a disagreement with our future. Jack had merely said he could easily see himself leaving the city if he ever got traded. But I had a stable job and family here. I couldn’t leave…

I had been frozen in shock when the door slammed shut. He’d left. Perhaps rightfully so. I’d called him horrible things. I broke down on the carpet in the bedroom when he left.

You pick the music when I'm driving

Your mama always takes my side when you fight me

And these days, my dog likes you more than he likes me

You can just tell

Jack hadn’t thought the answer through, and in the end he got too defensive to admit how wrong he was. When he left he didn’t know where he was headed. Jack just knew he was going somewhere. The yelling, the accusations, the hateful words spoken… they’d all been too much.

Jack gripped the steering wheel of his car impossibly tighter than before. His knuckles were white. He wanted to pull the wheel and turn himself into oncoming traffic. He wanted to spend his life with this woman. What had he done?

So what am I supposed to, unlisten to every song written?

Take you out of every melody?

You know my secrets, my demons, and I know your weaknesses

All of your doubts and your dreams

Jack knew she was alone, just as he was. Crying, panicking, asking herself what to do. He just couldn’t bring himself to go back. He didn’t know how to face her. But where were they supposed to go from here? The only way to know was if they could talk it out. Jack knew if they didn’t talk, it had a 100% chance of ending badly. Maybe if they spoke they could fix it.

So we

Can't break up now

No, we

Can't break up now

Four years. Four solid years of loving and growing. There for each other in every scenario. Every rise and fall. Every accomplishment and failure. There was such a deep history, how could they end things?

I hate the thought of starting over

If you left, I know I'd never get closure

Can't imagine letting anyone get closer

Than you are to me, oh

I flicked through photos in my phone, scaling back too many years. If I deleted them, four years of my life would be gone. Four years of so much effort. How could I leave him? I folded my legs beneath myself on our bed. Our bed. I needed Jack. The photos on the wall? His clothes? His towels in my bathroom. His dishes in my cabinets. His movies, his gaming consoles, his furniture. Everything would be gone.

Yeah, I'll battle this out all night 'till we fix it

If the ship's going down, I'm going down with it

Time alone did nothing to ease either mind. So perhaps it was better to be together.

Your friends are my friends

Jack turned his car around the moment he knew what he wanted.

I start where you end

I stood from the bed to leave the room. I decided I’d leave the front door unlocked. Yet when I got there, I couldn’t gain the courage to actually unlock it. Instead I sat against the wall next to the door, waiting to hear his knock. His voice.

We've got too much history

This was the right choice.

So we

Can't break up now

No, we

Can't break up now

We've come too far and we're in too deep

We love too hard just to let it go

So we

Can't break up now, oh

It didn’t take Jack long to drive back to the apartment. Mostly because he was speeding. He’d tried to fix his disheveled appearance before knocking on the door, plastered with fake gold numbers that clacked every time the door shook.

So what am I supposed to, unlisten to every song written?

Take you out of every melody?

I shot up at the sound, no hesitation in my body this time as I unlocked the door and opened it. We were met with one another’s faces, silent, blank. Where would this go?

No, we

Can't break up now

No, we

Can't break up now

“I’m so sorry..” Jack’s broken voice reached my ears. “I love you so much.”

No, we

Can't break up now

No, we

Can't break up now

“God Jack I never should have said any of that.” I fell into his arms, quiet sobs falling from our lips as we held each other tightly.

We've come too far and we're in too deep

We love too hard just to let it go

“Please let me in,” Jack whispered against my neck. It wasn’t even a question as to whether I would or not.

So we

Can't break up now

“Come in, honey.. let’s sit down.” I held onto his hand as I ushered him in, tears streaming down both of our faces.

No, we

Can't break up now, oh

It was better to heal together than alone.

Can't break up now

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #songfic #song fic #ella’s updates

[tarotwithavi]

Random things about your next lover .

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

This can be the long term relationship you'll have and can even be your future spouse. Just take it how it resonates.

Masterlist

Paid services

Customise your own reading

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Pile 1

Very hard working person. Might have two or more jobs. Might be balancing studies and job. 

Is a perfectionist. Might be virgo rising.

You both will mirror each other.

They might like bunnies or have bunnies. Especially white ones.

You might meet them through friend or they can be friends with your friends.

Their mother has a great influence in their life. I'm Also getting that they love and respect their mother a lot.

They might overthink a lot. They thrive for knowledge. Might tell you a lot of random facts.

Their father might be a teacher or their father wasn't emotionally available.

They have the mind of child but don't show it to others. You both will heal each other.

Must protect this person at all costs. They are so precious.

They did a lot or sacrifices and compromises in their life and they want to enjoy life to the fullest but are afraid to. They have a lot of responsibilities.

They can easily cut people off and will do anything to win. They don't want be called a failure. In fact their major fear is failure.

You both might talk online for the first time. Or you can meet them while travelling.

They stand by what they say and won't back down from promises. A man of his words.

June 21st to 30 is significant date here.

They type to not have fun or not go to parties because they are protecting their peace.

Might have 2 best friends.

Their ear might stand our a lot. I'm seeing big or long ears. Or they can have their ear pierced.

Significant placement : Sagittarius rising, mutable signs, north node in 2nd house. Virgo moon in 10th house, Jupiter in 12 house. Capricorn in 12th . Earth placements.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Pile 2

They might be the only male child in their family or the oldest sibling.

Their family sees them as a blessing and love them a lot.

They have a emotionally fulfilling family.

They have a charming personality and can sway you off. Cupid is in their favor all the time.

Your first meeting with them is going to be destined and nothing can stop you two from meeting.

They are very unpredictable and won't to able to catch what's going on inside their head.

They day dream alot and might zone out all the time.

Sometimes they feel like people have left them in cold and that people always leave them. So they have a hard time opening up to people.

They are a person who calculates their every step and always have plan B and C prepare in case something goes wrong.

They have a hypnotizing personality.

They like helping people a lot and they love language might be gifting.

They try to help everyone and people might take advantage of that.

They don't sleep deeply and even a fly can wale them up.

Okay this is funny so you know how moms wake up? Like when you wake up your mom she's frightened. That's exactly how they wake up.

They might have a pet that died and they miss him/her a lot.

They have a very creative mind and give them crayons and see what they can draw haha.

They have Golden Retriever energy for sure.

Sometimes they have a hard time accepting that they are wrong and might be a little immature.

Very passionate lover . absolute gentleman.

Significant placements : Sagittarius Mars, sun in Pisces or in 12th house. Sun in leo or 1st house, Jupiter in 7th house, Jupiter in Sagittarius. Prominent 12th house placements.

These can be your placements too.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Pile 3

Okay so when I was channeling I got the message that this person might be your future spouse.

They are into spirituality and might be into witchcraft too. Can be practicing witchcraft or just interested.

This person never stops learning. They alwar find new things to do and might get bored with the same lifestyle. They might even change their jobs or have two or more jobs.

They don't like inequality and won't tolerate any kind of discrimination. They won't stand any injustice. And always speak out the truth.

If you're attracted to females then her aesthetic might be light feminine and if you're attracted to males them he might be a feminine male. Or likes wearir pink or pastel colors.

They argue alot and arecrryr sassy.

Sarcasm is their love language lol.

They have balanced masculine and feminine energy and are comfortable in expressing both.

You both will complete each other. You have what they lack and they have what you lack.

They stand by what they say . They are not the type to make fun of other's culture or their beliefs.

They are a child from inside and will make you feel like a kid again. If you have had not-so-happy childhood you will experience that things you missed as a child with them.

You guys give off fictional couples vibes. Like how expressive and lovely they are with each other.

They are very protective over you and won't let anyone with bad intentions be near you.

They might keep a lot of secrets at the talkir stage because they have sides that they won't show to people easily. Might be very mysterious the first time you meet them.

You guys can meet in school/college or any work setting.

They might seem serious but they are a yolo type.

Significant placements : sun in libra in 2nd house, sun in leo, 9th house placements, south node in 6th house, Uranus in Sagittarius, Neptune in 5th house, sun in 12 house. Capricorn rising.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#tarot reading #tarot cards #free readings #free tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #pick a picture #pac tarot #tarot readings #pick a crystal #pac reading #tarot pac #tarot divination #divination #tarotwithavi #tarot witch #tarot community #tarot and astrology #tarot astrology #tarot project #tarot predictions #psychic readings #intuitive readings #tarot #tarotcommunity #tarotoftheday

[ohtobeleah]

Radar // Bob Floyd

Summary: After Phoenix and Bob are forced to eject after a freak bird strike—the Top Gun class find out a little bit more about their quiet back seat weapons systems officer.

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd paring. Jake ‘Hangman’ Sersin Antagonist Angst.

Author Note: Absolutely obsessed with Bob atm. Open to make this a concept train— Bobs just so pure. I could write about him forever. For the purpose of this fictional universe OS ranks over Lieutenant.

“Bird Strike!--” Phoenix shouted, the jet buffering for a second before swinging to the right. Alarms instantly began to blare, a warning light popping up with one of Bob’s biggest fears. Fire. looking behind him out to the left of the cockpit, Bob could feel the panic rising in his chest at the quickly escalating severity of the situation unfolding.

“Phoenix, left engines on fire.” Bob relayed what was going on, even though he knew Phoenix already knew from the amount of alarms ringing off.

“Climbing!” Phoenix shouted as she pulled back on the throttle. “Throttling back, shutting off fuel to the left engine, extinguishing fire.” Bob watched as the right engine began to diminish, not something you’d want to see at a time like this.

“Phoenix, right engines out I repeat! right engines out!”

“It's still spinning, trying to restart the right engine.”

“Phoenix it's on fire, don't try to restart it!” Maverick's voice came through the comms as Bob watched on from the back seat, his mind running wild. Was this how he was going to go out? Was this it? A fucking Bird Strike? Bob's mind was blurred with images of you, your smile, your laugh. He thought what you would do in a world post him, if you'd move on, if you’d ever have children. It was easy to live with ignorance, but in situations like these the certainty of death was all too confronting. Every small moment with you Bob treated it like it would be the last, not a second was taken for granted, because he knew that every time he climbed into that back seat ready for take off? He may not get to experience another.

“Throttling up!” Phoenix reported as she climbed a little higher trying to restart the engine, but it was to no use. The engines completely cut out, bursting into fire. Bob could feel the heat radiating behind him, panic setting in heavily.

“Phoenix we’re on fire, we’re on fire!” Bob shouted.

“Dammit–” Phoenix sighed, not sure what her next move was going to be, but whatever it was, she had to think fast. It wasn't just her life on the line, but her back seaters as well. Spinning out of control and hurtling towards the mountain range below, Mavericks voice came over the comms once again.

“Phoenix, Bob, punch out now, punch out!” Maverick shouted in desperation.

“There's warning lights everywhere Phoenix, were in hydraulic failure.” Bob reported, his mind made up–but he had to wait for Phoenix to confirm they were punching out.

“I can't control it–” Phoenix panicked as she pulled and pushed the throttle she gripped in her hands, trying to control the fall.

“We’re going down Phoenix, we’re going in where going in!” Bob repeated. Automated warning signals blasting throughout the cockpit.

“You can't save it, eject, eject!” maverick called. The three words of confirmation finally left Phoenixes mouth, Bob let out a heavy sigh as he grabbed his eject handles.

“Eject, eject, eject!” Phoenix shouted.

“Ejecting–” Bob replied, pulling harshly on his cords, only to smack into the lid of the cockpit on his way out. Shooting high into the sky in a picnic. His shoot had come loose. “Shit!” Bob panicked as he fell free towards the ground below, working frantically to pull his shoot to slow down. Only when doing so did it jerk him up fast, compressing his torso until he let out a blood curdling groan, blacking out as he descended to the ground.

—---

It was hard to get a read on Bob Floyd. His call sign was his nickname—short for Robert. Just plan, simple Bob. The other pilots at Miramar for the life of them couldn’t get a read on him. Bob was quiet and in all aspects, reserved. They kinda just decided as a collective unit to throw the call sign Bob back at him because in all honesty? Bob didn’t really try all that hard to give them any sort of personality.

He was simply a back -seater. A weapons system’s officer who was damn good at his job and just so happened to be in love with the Miramar Operations Specialist. His darling wife of two blissful years and best friend of five, Bob Floyd held that card close to his chest. Just as close as his wedding band strung around his dog tags, tucked under his flight suit.

Your name was Renée Spencer-Floyd, but everyone just called you by your call sign. Radar. To be fair, you and Bob couldn’t help but to laugh some nights. It had to have been the hyphenated last name that threw people off your scent. And to give a smidge of credit Floyd was a pretty common last name. So to have Spencer-Floyd and Floyd at Miramar at the same time? The reach wasn’t all that far.

“Well, there doesn't seem to be anything broken besides the few busted ribs Lieutenant Floyd, but I would like to keep you both overnight for observations. You know–” Doctor Chris tried to explain to the two obviously shaken aviators. “To be sure the signs of shock diminish and to double check that there's no internal bleeding anywhere.”

“Isn't that where the bloods supposed to be?” Bob tried to crack a joke, his ribs busted in three separate places from the impact of his shoot ripping him up, faulty– but still life saving. “Internal?”

“I guess you could put it that way.” Doctor Chris chuckled to himself as he quickly checked Bob’s pupils. One by one with a small flashlight. “You got any family we can call? A girlfriend perhaps?” Phoenix smirked to herself as she sat on the bed across the room, Bob didn't have a girlfriend did he? Surely he would have mentioned it.

“Uh, yeah actually, you could call my wife? She’s probably either not aware of what's happened or trying her best to manage expectations that she's cool, calm and collected one hundred percent of the time albeit while she's screaming on the inside.” Bob rambled, too afraid to look over at Phoenix.

“Wife got a name Bob?” Dr, Chris asked as he clicked his flash light back into the breast pocket of his coat. Pulling out a pen and notepad to write the details down.

“Uh, it's uh, OS Renee Spencer-Floyd–” Bob squinted at the squeal that left Phoenix’s mouth, her jaw dropping to the ground as Dr. Chris wrote down the details, leaving soon after to go contact you immediately about Bob's situation. There was a few months of silence before Bob had the courage to look over at Phoenix, still in shock. Not from the crash, but from the new revelations. “I don't wanna hear it.” Bob begged.

“You’re married!? More specifically to the OS!? Radar!? As in the radar, our all seeing eye in the sky?” Phoenix had always admired what you did just as much as you did her. “You and Radar are married?”

“For two years, yeah” Bob pulled out his dog tags that were tucked away into the pocket of his hospital gown. The nurse had made him take them off before he had his multiple x-rays, having given them back shortly after with his wedding band still strung around the chain. Holding it up so it spun in a small slow circle. “We both transferred over from Lemoore, try and stay as close as possible, whenever we can.”

“We've all been in a group together at the Hard Deck and not once have I seen either of you interact like any more than friends?” Phoenix questioned.

“How are you and Bob going?” Maverick asked as you sat with him at the bar. Sipping down the cold beer Penny had offered you as you sat. The pair of you had just made your way over from being briefed about this highly classified, dangerous and in your professional opinion— ridiculously suicidal mission. 

“We’re good.” you nodded, pressing your lips together as you let the bottle rest on the bar. “You know, trying to keep things quiet while we’re stationed here, a need to know basis type quiet.” Pete Michell had always seen you as the daughter he never had, always keeping up to date with your life, both personal and professional.

“But if you had it your way he wouldn't be here right now would he?” Maverick smirked, watching as you looked over across the bar to where your husband sat, watching the other aviators play pool as he ate what you could only assume to be peanuts from a plastic cup. Taking the final sip of your first beer you quickly gestured at Penny for another, fishing some cash out of the pocket of your Naval skirt, accepting the fresh beer.

“After that briefing are you kidding me? Hell no, but I don't make the rules, do I?” you smirked, taking another sip, you still couldn't process what you had just been briefed on, but until you had a chance to sit down and really go through all the intricate details and program a simulation? You didn't want to think too much about it. Crossing the hard Deck you slowly approached your husband, god he looked good in his uniform. He always did.

“Is this seat taken?” you cooed, coming up beside Bob close enough to graze his shoulder. Small, undetected touches were always a go to for the pair of you, indiscrete but full of love and electricity. Turning to face you with a bright smile beaming Bob shoved over, making enough room for you to sit beside him. The blush across his cheeks made him feel like a teenager again, talking to girls was never a strong suit of his, but you always seemed to make it easy, well, as easy as it could be for a guy like Bob. 

“Please, have a seat.” Bob replied softly. “When did you get in?” He asked curiously, drinking in the sight of you. Completely head over heels.

“I literally just got here, I went straight to the briefing room when I got off the plane.” you explained, having had to take a separate flight to Bob. “I feel like my heads going to explode.” You took a sip of your beer as Bob bummed your side.

 “That bad huh?” he questioned, taking a sip of his own beverage— a cup of ice water. You nodded in response with a small sigh. Looking at Bob, he could see the worry swirling around in your eyes. “A need to know basis I’m assuming?”

“The Admiral will brief you and the guys tomorrow.” you smiled softly. Feeling a presence  coming towards you. Catching your attention as you took just one more sip of your beer. “All due respect though–” you paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of your husband, taking into the bottle neck of your beer discretely. “If I had it my way, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” Bob understood where you were coming from, he never really had to worry about you being in life threatening danger as much as you did. More often than not you were stationed stateside, and when you weren’t? You mostly stuck to patrol boats, the non-combatant type that just sailed the seas on reconnaissance. Bob knew that after this mission was over you’d both had a total of two blissful months together before new stations were sent out, so in his mind? Any time he got to spend with you was a blessing, no matter the danger.

 “And with all due respect, ma’am.” Bob teased, his fingers dancing discreetly with the hem of your naval skirt, his eyes roaming your face, taking in all the features, all the beautiful flaws that made you perfect in every respect. “I'm just thankful that I get to be stationed in the same place as you.” you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you smirked. 

“And who would this lovely lady of the sea be?” Jake Seresin, you'd heard rumours but never had you ever had to encounter the man who had an ego the size out Mt Everest. “Bob? Care to introduce us to your friend here? One of Top Guns finest i presume?” 

“Uh–” Bob stammered over his words as he cleaned peanut crumbs from his uniform. “This is uh–um i–” rolling your eyes as you chuckled as you stood, holding your hand out for Jack to shake. 

“OS Renee ‘Radar’ Spencer-Floyd.” you introduced yourself. “I presume it's Hangman?” you saw the colour slightly fade from Jack’s face as he shook your hand. “Nice to meet you, and the rest of the Top Gun class.” you gestured to those who stood around the pool table. 

“You're our operations specialist?” Jake questioned with a hint of disbelief in his tone. “God damn we’re all doomed boys.” Jake smirked, biting his bottom lip as he eyes you up and down.

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” you replied, slightly annoyed at the misogynist undertone Hangman had given you.

“Well, I'm keen to get to know more about you, so how about we go out to dinner sometime, you can tell me all about what it is you actually do and I can tell you how dangerous it is to fly fighter jets for a living?” You generally wanted to gag. Not only could you not process the severity of this mission but now you had Jake Hangman Seresin hitting on you in front of the class you had to get home safe to their families but also your husband. Rolling your eyes you handed Bob your beer. 

“Listen, Hangman, I'm flattered really, but–” you paused, feeling Bob's hand slipping up and down the back of your thigh gently, complete secrecy to his gentle touch. “I've got my hands full right now keeping you all alive and you really really arent my type.”

“Are you not into pilot's Radar?” Hangman questions, trying to read you as you chuckled and sat back down next to Bob.

“Weapons systems officers are more my type.” you teased, Bob couldn't hold his drink in as he splattered a cough. Shocked, you'd be so bold. The group laughed at the way Bob reacted  to your comment. 

“Well you're in luck Radar, Bob here's a weapons systems officer.” Coyote pointed out, having no idea you already knew. 

“We are friends.” Bob agreed wholeheartedly before correcting Phoenix a little. “Well technically she's my best friend but I mean you get the drift.” Bob couldn't help but to smirk. It hit a little harder then Phoenix expected it to, thinking back to what Maverick had said earlier in the week.

“Dont tell me, tell his family.'' At the time Phoenix didn't know Bob’s family, but the fact you were Bob’s wife, changed everything.

“Holy shit– I can't believe it, you and the radar!” Phoenix clapped her hands as she slightly giggled to herself. “Woah, that's got me, I'm too stunned to speak.” Bob let out a small scoff, looking down at his feet.

“Yeah well, we don't really like to mix our personal and professional lives all that much.” Bob explained. “Hence why we don't really announce our relationship, our marriage to the entire navy. Just a small need to know group.” Bob explained as Phoenix listened, understanding wholeheartedly.

“Well thanks for letting me in.'' Phoenix smiled softly from across the room, Bob simply pressed his lips together and nodded in response, nervous for you to find out. “How long have you two been together?” Phoenix tilted her head to the side, waiting for Bob to respond.

“All up? It will be seven years this August, and boy has time stood still with her.” Beside his job as a weapons system officer, Phoenix had never really heard Bob speak about anything else so passionately. It was like a flood gate had been let open. “I’m telling you Phoenix, that woman?” Bob smiled bright from across the room. “Is the absolute love of my life, so thank you for allowing me to come home to her one more day.” Bobs thank you was as sincere as it could be. Tears in his eyes as he held his emotions in.

“Radar seems like a really nice person Bob, I'm glad you have someone to go home to, especially after today.” Phoenix smiled softly, feeling confident in her choices today, the ones that led to both her and Bob both still being alive and breathing and most importantly, both in one piece. “She's quiet though? like you.”

“She's passionate too, loves her job Phoenix, she’s probably in that communications office yelling at the Admiral about something that needs to be altered or changed completely to keep us all safe up there.” Bob chuckled, knowing you were always fighting for everyone else. “Hell she’d challenge anyone to keep pilots safe, she doesn't believe in suicise missions.”

“Does she think this one is?” Phoenix asked sheepishly. “Does she think this missions a suicide mission?” Bob was quiet for a second or two, knowing how you felt about this one.

“She knows that there's a possibility someone won't be coming home, but, she's trying her best to make sure we all do, whoever ends up going.”

—--------

You weren't aware of what happened. You were in the middle of an operation that required all of your focus, time, and most importantly your expertise.

“Two minutes and fifteen seconds is an impossible time to match, with the combination of the steep climbs and the fact whoever flys this mission is going to have to withstand incredibly force, i highly recommend pushing to two thirty–”

“Unbelivable–” Admiral Bates groaned. “You played whatever stupid game on the beach with the aviators and got close!” Admiral Bates was up in your personal space in the commander's station. A dark room full of radars and operations systems. you felt your mind escaping back, not the the beach because of the dogfight football, but for something else, someone else. Bob. 

“So—“ you cooed, walking with Bob up the beach along the water’s edge. “I'm a little pressed you didn’t take your shirt off.” you sighed playfully. Bob couldn’t hold back a laugh as he smiled bright, turning to you as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh yeah, no I uh—I didn’t want to bruise Hangman’s ego.” Bob teased kicking the water that lapped around his ankles. “You know, with how absolutely ripped I am.” You chuckled in response, letting the conforming silence fall between the pair of you. “Still would have enjoyed the show-“ you smirked, thinking about the way Bob felt, his warmth, his touch. “I think Rooster might be onto us–” Bob interjected with a worrisome tone. His fingertips danced with yours as you walked side by side. “I think he saw you sneaking into my bunk the other night.” you couldn't help the scoff that left your mouth. Nodding in response. 

“Oh yeah, caught me red handed, but I told him the next morning we were doing paperwork–”

“Paperwork?” Bob questioned. “You couldn't have come up with any other excuse?”

“I was caught off guard!” you laughed, defending yourself as you bumped Bob's side, him doing the same to you with his hip. “Besides, if anyone was to know, I think Rooster would be the absolute least of our concerns.” 

“Since when does Bob talk to girls?” Coyote couldn’t help but lock onto the pair of you as you walked up the beach. Rooster watched as you bumped into Bob before he bumped back into you. Laughing loudly. “I mean they were stationed at Lemoore together so maybe he’s just comfortable with her?” Rooster mentioned, sparking a questioning look from Coyote. 

“What?”“Who told you that?” Coyote pressed, crossing his arms as he watched on. 

“Radar did? We had lunch in the mess the other day, just ran into her, why?” Rooster explained as he watched Bob try to trip you up. Thinking back to when he had caught you sneaking into Bob bunk, he was sure paperwork did not involve the things he heard, but for what it was worth? Go Bob.

“Bob told me they’d never met before until last Thursday—“ Coyote questioned, dumbfounded at the sight he was seeing as Bob made you scream like a teenager as he wrapped his arms around your waist, tackling you gently into the water. 

“I knew taking a chance on you was almost as incredibly risky as taking a chance on Maverick—at least he lives up to the expectations set for him.” Admiral Bates hissed your way, throwing insult after insult at you as you stood your ground. You’d run the systems, done the checks, done the math and the numbers, the risk to reward ratio wasn’t adding up. Rolling your eyes you proceeded with your judgment call, having simulated the mission over and over and over again.

“This is my professional opinion as an operations specialist, the numbers don't add up. It's gonna take one hell of a pilot to succeed and even then you have to accommodate for loss, he or she–” you hesitated for a moment. “Won't come home if you send them in at two fifteen.” you felt as if you were red in the face.

“I have no doubt in my mind that it is Radar, however, your judgment is skewed by the amount you have grown to know this class.” you could feel your heart racing. “They all accept this risks—“

“They all have families who love them?” You argued. “What excuse will be good enough when you tell them you had a choice to do this the right way and you pushed and pushed and pushed Admiral!” Slamming the stack of papers you held in your hand down on the table next to you in frustration. They never listened to you, a woman very much climbing the ladder in a man’s words.

“Those pilots have what it takes, Radar, it’s you who doesn’t have the faith—“

“It’s a god damn suicide mission!” You shouted, anger coursing through your veins. “And if you think it's doable, admiral, how about you fly it?” you hissed, gritting your teeth as you held your ground. “All due respect sir, this mission as important as it may be it isn't worth putting people's lives in danger any more than they have to be, if i can help it, i will, and in my expert opinion on the subject you either need to increase the time limit or find a damn good pilot who’s willing to self sacrifice.” A knock at the door interrupted the heavy moment between you and Admiral Bates. Taking a step back and a heavy sigh, you answered to the request harshly. Rooster popping his head through before standing to attention.

“Admiral Bates, OS Spencer-Floyd.” Rooster stood to attention before you waved him down.

“At ease, what can we do for you lieutenant?” you questioned frustratedly, still trying to regulate your anger at the situation.

“May I have a word Radar? In private?” Roosters concern was as clear as day even in such a dimly lit room. It worried you instantly as you followed him out of the communications office into the corridor.

“What's wrong whats, hey–!” you hissed as Rooster dragged you down the hall into a nearby room. Empty. “Rooster!” You and Rooster had always been friendly, your dad knew his dad. They’d flown together on the SS Hammerlock, before Goose and Maverick were sent to Miramar. Having always known each other, always finding comfort in each other’s presents. Rooster had always had a hunch you and Robert Floyd were slightly more than then friends, especially after he’d seen you and Bob leaving the Hard Deck together late one night after a few too many beers on the old timer, and even more so once he’d seen the way you and Bob interacted on the beach. And his suspensions were almost one hundred percent confirmed when he’d caught you red handed doing “paperwork” with Bob in his bunk. Almost as if you were still on your honeymoon, totally consumed and infatuated with one another. You and Bob were always careful about your levels of public displays of affection—but sometimes? You had to sneak a kiss or two in. Or in this case, Take ever inch he could give. Rooster had always had his suspicions, you and Bob were somewhat glued to the hip, best friends. Husband and wife.

“It's Bob'' Rooster signed, his hands coming down to slide across his face, pulling at his skin. “It's Bob, Renee.” Your heart sunk into your stomach, shit he had training today didn't he? Did something go wrong? Was he okay? Fuck, you could feel your face heating up, your heartbeat began to race as your voice cracked.

“What's– what's Bob got to do with me?” you asked, still trying to keep your composure. “Wouldn't–”

“A call came in from the Miramar Hospital–” you stopped listening after you heard the word hospital. Question after question spiraled uncontrollably out of your mouth. Rooster had just so happened to be passing by the administration office on base, one of the receptionists had kindly asked him to go find you. Fill you in on the situation. You were lucky it was Rooster who had been passing by, not someone like Hangman who would have spread this shit like wildfire.

“Hospital? What do you mean hospital Rooster? What happened? Is Bob okay?--” your mood instantly shifting to panic mode. Rooster interrupted you by placing his hands over your shoulders, looking his eyes on yours as he spoke as calmly as he could. Trying to keep you from panicking too much, grounding you by touch.

“There was an accident during the training session, Bob and Phoenix had to eject, that's it, that's all, he's alive, he's in one piece, but a Dr. Chris? called looking for Floyds emergency contact Renee, said Bob had asked for his wife to be contacted?” Rooster let his question hang in the air as you tried to read his concern, ultimately landing on the only possible explanation. The truth. Pulling out your dog tags from your naval uniform, you showed Rooster your wedding band. “Holy Shit–”

“Spencer-Floyd, Rooster, it's not rocket science.” You chuckled to yourself as you shook your head. “But it sure wasn't hard to keep a secret.” you smirked, tucking your tags back into your uniform. “Now can you save your questions for when you drive me over to the hospital?”

“You want me to drive you?” Rooster questioned. “I just came in here for like—damage control you know, I thought you’d want this to stay under wraps?” You didn’t have to ask again as a small sob escaped your mouth before you covered it with shaky hands. Tears forming in your waterline. Rooster pressed his lips together, nodding gently. “Okay, okay, I’ll drive you, c’mon Radar—let’s get you outta here ma’am“ rooster scooped you inside his arm as he led you out.

“Fuck this hurts—“ you sobbed. “You said he’s okay right?” You mumbled through your breaking composure. Your head, hanging low. “I don’t think I could handle it if he wasn’t.” Your mind was wandering back through your life spent with Bob. A rolodex of memories playing through your mind, you couldn’t stop them—you didn’t want to stop them. “Bob—“ you sobbed a little louder this time.

“He’s okay, I promise I wouldn’t lie to you.” Rooster led you all the way out to his truck, opening the passenger side door for you like the true gentleman he was. “Mrs Floyd.” He gestured as he opened the door for you, noticing the small almost undetectable smirk on your face as he did so. “So—“ Rooster started his truck and got to work. “Why Bob? If you don’t mind me asking?” Rooster focused on the road ahead. His glasses dark against the sun of Miramar.

“Why Bob? Don’t you think that’s a loaded question?” You replied as you thought of an answer. Sniffling. “He’s just Bob, has been for years I guess. That’s kinda what drew me to him, his naturally reserved nature, the quietness, but boy is he smart and funny and oh, he hates reptiles and amphibians because they freak him out and it’s just—“ you caught yourself spewing your guts as Rooster smiled as he drove. “Sorry, too much.” You mumbled, looking out the window as the desert turned to small in a middle of nowhere town.

“Hey I asked, so please, continue.” Rooster gestured as you repositioned in your seat. Thinking about Bob, hoping he was without a single scratch. “Besides, now I know lizards are gonna be a good prank.”

“You know Bradley—“ you paused for a moment, remembering just how wonderful your wedding day was. An elopement in your parents backyard with your family and Bobs. So simple and so small but exactly how you pictured it. “Someday, someone is gonna come into your life….and they are going to love every single atom of your being. They’re gonna adore every little thing about you. The way that you eat, the way that you smell, the way that you put your cold toes on them in the bed when they’re nice and toasty.” You turned to face Rooster, knowing it never really worked with anyone before. “And it’s gonna make so much sense why it never really worked with anyone else.”

“Does Bob love every atom of your being?’ Rooster replied as he turned the next corner. Nodding gentle re responded quietly.

“Every single one, so if he's not okay, please–”

“I know as much as you do Radar, he's alive.” Rooster cooed letting the silence linger for a moment before he was at it again. “So like, what's with the ginger and rice?” you couldn't help but to break out into a loud obnoxious laugh, looking over your shoulder at Rooster who wore curiosity well.

“It's an old wise tail, fresh ginger and white rice, apparently it helps settle your stomach.”

“Why doesn't he just eat a banana if he's got a weak constitution?” Rooster countered.

“Why would he eat a banana?” you questioned. Smirking as you waited for Rooster to reply with surely some smart ass remark.

“It tastes the same coming up as it did going down.”

——————

The moment you stepped foot into the general admissions area of the Miramar hospital, every single pair of eyes turned to look at you as you stood a few inches short of Rooster. Stopping dead in your tracks as you faced the class of Top Gun, all wearing the same expression of confusion on their faces.

What the hell is the OS doing here?

“Go, ill do my best to cover–” Rooster leaned in and whispered softly in your ear. Nodding with your lips pressed together, you headed over to the nurses station, Rooster heading towards a very curious class.

“I'm looking for Robert Floyd?” you were quiet in your request to the nurse who sat behind the glass. Chewing her gum that was probably the only thing she had time to eat in the past nine and a half hours. But you weren't quiet enough for the prying ears of Hangman, who’d somehow managed to slip past Rooster and follow you over to the nurses station, lingering behind you as you spoke. “Im his wife–”

“I'm sorry, what did you just say?” Hangman's voice scared the shit out of you, causing you to jump in fright as you turned to face him. Looking at Rooster over his shoulder, all he could do was shrug his shoulders in defeat.

Good one you idiot, you couldn't help but to sigh his way.

“Since when are you and Bob married, since when does Bob talk to girls, he barely talks to me?”

“Why would anyone willingly talk to you Hangman?” Rooster chimed in, coming to your defense. “In this moment Radar is still our OS, know your rank before you dig yourself a deeper hole to climb out of man.” Rooster turned to you, jerking his head slightly to tell you to leave. Wasting no time, you turned on your heels and ran down the hall, counting the room numbers that passed you by. The group followed shortly behind.

“What the hell is going on here?” Coyote questioned, all he was here for was to check up on Phoenix and Bob, his head wasn't processing why you were here. This didn't seem like a situation you as an OS needed to be involved in. “Why's radar he– oh damn, Bob pulled.” The group went absolutely silent as they finally reached Bob's room, you'd flung yourself over him as he laid in his hospital bed, sitting up with the covers pulled up over his legs reading some random book one of the nurses gave him. A true library dweller.

“You scared the hell outta me Bob!” you whispered into the crook of his neck, letting go as he groaned from the pressure you'd placed on his stomach, your eyes growing wide at the face he pulled. “What, what have I not been told?”

“It's nothing i promise, i'm good.” Bob led. “Just a few broken ribs to remember the moment.” you audibly gasped, sitting back in the chair you'd wasted no time in pulling to his bedside.

“I was in the command office, I didn't know you'd been in an accident–” you tried your best to explain, Bobs hand came to rest over yours, squeezing softly.

“Not a serious one, I'm all good here bub, you don't have to worry.” Bob was calmer than you, more level headed, if only you'd seen the way he reacted in the backseat of Phoenix's aircraft this morning. Then you wouldn't have thought he was so level headed. “I'm still here, hey i'm not going anywhere, without you by my side.” Bob cooed, his hand lifting your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your palm.

“This was too close this time–” you held back your tears, taking a deep breath and looking up to the ceiling. “Too close Bob, I hate the feeling I got when Rooster told me a call came in from Miramar hospital, I hate the emptiness and the not knowing if you were really okay.”

“Its our job Radar.” you smirked at the call sign, Bob never really called you by your call sign when it was just the two of you. “It's the risk we take.”

“Yeah but you aren't a job to me, you're my best friend, my husband for god sakes, every other person waiting out there is a job to me, but they still have friends and family who love them, who need them to be safe.” you explained as you looked into Bob's eyes, swimming with love for you. “You are and will never be a job to me, the quicker you understand that, Lieutenant, the quicker we can be on the same page going forward.” Bob chuckled as you leaned in to place a small and gentle kiss against his lips. Smirking against yours as he chuckled. The moment pure and fleeting, the way Bobs lips felt against yours was like a drug you’d become addicted to.

“Yes ma’am, understood.” Bob kissed you back a little harder, a little hungrier for the taste of you after having faced the possibility of never coming home to you again. “Not a job—“ silence fell over the pair of you as you pulled back, sinking into your chair with a sigh of relief. Knowing Bob was truly okay had you let out a breath of air you didn’t know you’d been holding in. Looking at the love of your life so vulnerable lying in that hospital bed when he was usually way up in the sky.

“I never told you this—“ you began, feeling a presence behind you, Rooster, Hangman, Coyote. “But I was in love with you long before I first told you.” It was an admission to the audience that had formed behind you, not just to Bob. “Hell, I’m pretty sure before you were sent to Top Gun the first time.”

“Renee—“ Bob tried to interrupt, but you kept speaking.

“From the very first second I saw you smile at me, I knew I was hooked for the rest of my life.” You let out a small chuckle. Looking at Bob looking at you. “If you ever don’t come home, that’s it, I’m nothing without you—so if you and Phoenix end up flying this mission, you better come home to me or I’ll be furious with you Robert Floyd.” You chuckled together, Bob nodding in response as his eyes wandered to the crowd behind you.

“I gather you’ve all met my wife?” Bob smirked at his team. Jaws wide open in shock. Questions after questions rattling around in their brains. “This doesn’t change a single thing—“

“It absolutely does Bob.” Hangman pushed forward. “How do we know you won’t go on this mission because dear old Radar here puts in a good word? Huh?” You scoffed in disbelief. “It all makes way too much sense now—“

“If I had it my way none of you would be flying this mission especially Bob—it’s a suicide mission Hangman.” You hissed, standing from where you sat next to your husband. “Day in day out, all I do is run this damn mission, over and over again and it’s never good enough to keep you from being the latest naval statistic.” You groaned. “Not even your egotistical arse.”

“It’s true—“ Rooster chimed in. “I heard Radar kinda giving Admiral Bates a piece of her mind before I knocked, they want us to run a time of two fifteen—Radar wants to push for more.” You stood silent, squaring your shoulders at Hangman who grit his teeth, looking down at you slightly as he towered over you.

“Let’s not forget, I’ve never left a single soul out to dry, we all know if Bob had been in your backseat he wouldn’t be here right now, so don’t test my limits lieutenant—Bob might be my husband but I know for damn sure he’s just a worthy as you think you are to be chosen for this ridiculous mission, he doesn’t need me blowing smoke up his ass—hence why we don’t disclose our relationship publicly.” You couldn’t help but let your emotions get to you. This whole situation had you sick to your stomach. Especially since you’d already had a blow out with Lieutenant Seresin previously.

“There’s more than one way to fly this mission—“ it was the combination of Rooster’s low baritone, the seriousness in his tone and the way his eyes held a deeper need for validation that had you standing a little taller, shoulders a little more pulled back. Mavrick had just told Phoenix to have a good enough excuse to tell Bob‘s family why she didn’t anticipate the next turn. One they would accept at the funeral. It got to you, got to Bob.

“How do you propose we go about it?“ pilot input was always incredibly important to you, especially when designing and coordinating mission flight sequencing. As Rooster looked you dead in the eyes ready to explain, Hangman couldn’t shut his mouth to save his own life.

“You really don’t get it—“ he hissed, turning to Rooster. “On a mission like this a man flies like Maverick here, or a man does not come back.” Chewing his gun too obnoxiously for your liking, Hangman took the moment to turn to where Phoenix sat. “No offence intended.”

“And yet somehow? You always manage—“ You smirked at how instinctively Bob had Natasha’s back. Smirking softly as you peered his way, making eye contact with your husband as he turned back to face you at the front of the class. Smirking back, Bob lowered his head to focus. “You’ve left two of your wingmen behind in the past 72hrs—“

“Three—“ you corrected Bob. “The back seater is included in Hangman’s casualty list.” Bob could hear the sadness in your tone the way you looked at him like he hung every single star in the sky just for you. It was hard to hide the disappointment you felt that someone who was meant to look out for your husband would leave him behind. “Three lives lost and for what? A failed mission.”

“There’s a reason why Bob here is a black seater.” Hangman interrupted, managing your expectations of him. “You have to be at least this tall to sit upfront.” It was childish, The way Hangman held his hand about three centimeters above the ground. “Isn’t that right Bobby Boy?”

“Don’t take this out on me, your egos been all out of whack since Radar turned you down at the Hard Deck—“ you were Bob's wife, point blank.

“It is absolutely imperative that you act like a team, a family, for this mission, otherwise? someone won’t come home, and you’ll have to carry that weight. Every day, every night.” You explained with as much seriousness as you could muster. Finding a slight gap before Hangman could make a comeback. “I can’t stress that enough.”

“It’s not my problem they can’t keep up—“ Hangman smirked, sinking into his chair as he tapped his own against his paper. That was probably then when your final very thin straw broke.

“Hangman—“ you began, walking closer as the heels clicked against the concrete of the empty hanger turned classroom. Arms behind you. “What is it that you think is so special about you that puts your life above every other person in this room?” You questioned, leaning in over his desk as you got in his face. “Because quite frankly the way I see it is those people who can’t keep up will end up being the ones who save your sorry ass when you take a wrong turn and end up needing support—“

“It’s incredibly hard to take advice from a non-combatant.” Hangman hissed. Bob's ears pricked as he sat up a little straighter.

“Watch it Bagman—“ Bob grumbled. “Radars—“ Bob went in to defend you, but before he could? Hangman was interrupting with a snicker.

“Oh sorry Floyd, don’t you think your girlfriend here can’t handle it?” Hangman teased, chewing his bottom lip as he turned back to you. Standing tall once again. “C’mon sunshine don’t pretend you can roll with the big boys.” You chuckled, smirking slightly as you looked around to the class—all eyes on you including Mavericks.

“Lieutenant Seresin, I have zero tolerance for pilots who think reckless endangerment is a damn personality trait.” You spoke firmly. “If there isn’t a dramatic attitude change in the next five seconds I will make sure come hell or high water you will be removed from this program no matter who good you think you are, and I will make sure that no commanding officer will want to work with you—“ spied briefly, leaning in once again. “Do I make myself clear?” You hissed through gritted teeth. It was completely silent on Hangmana behalf, you could hear a feather drop. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear!?” You shouted.

“Yes OS!” Hangman repeated. Sinking into his set. Turning on your heels you Gave Maverick and all knowing look—he knew it and you knew it more, Jake Seresin wasn’t the right fit to fly this mission.

“C’mon hangman, we all know it’s just the ego taking—“ Bob interrupted. “All those times you’ve made a move and yet somehow, you never noticed she was taken.” Bob chuckled.

“If you weren’t in a hospital bed right now I’d put you in one—“ Hangman hissed, you held your hand out against his chest—stepping in front of his path towards Bob.

“Don’t make this worse, walk it off—that’s an order.” Your eyes were cold as ice as you ordered Hangman to step outside. “Go—“ Bob watched on as you used your authority. It kinda got him going. Never really one to see you get so worked up. But the two most recent times he’d been present for? Had blood rushing to parts he only wished you had some time to give attention to. “You guys should go see Phoenix, I’m sure she’s waiting for you guys to check in on her?” It was more of an order than anything else. You wanted Bob all to yourself for a moment.

“Jesus—“ you sighed, sitting back into your chair, pulling yourself as close to Bob as you could. “What am I gonna do? I’m past damage control, this is a bloody shit show!” You groaned, your index finger and thumb coming to squeeze the bridge of your nose, releasing some pressure. Bob couldn’t help but to try and lighten to mood, smirking as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Would this be a bad time for me to mention I’m totally one hundred percent attracted to the way you just put Hangman in his place?”

***~***~***~***~**~

#bob floyd #top gun bob #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd fanfiction #Robert Floyd #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction