#but why intentionally get in the way to keep him from winning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

antiquarianfics · 8 months

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster, or so they say. You’d argue that jealousy is actually a blue-eyed, one-armed, super soldier.

A/N: 1989 (Taylor’s Version) announcement led to this. You’re welcome! Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Warnings: Swearing, sexual innuendo. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to repost or copy my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

—

“Boys only want love if it’s torture.” —Taylor Swift

You are incredibly aware of Bucky Barnes’ infatuation with you. You aren’t blind to his gaze; you aren’t deaf to his words. Bucky Barnes is in love with you—and he refuses to admit it.

You are also incredibly aware of Bucky Barnes’ tendency to distance himself from good things. He is a man who believes he deserves the worst; he is a man who does not believe he is worth loving. Bucky Barnes will accept hate all day, every day. He won’t accept love.

So, clearly, he will not act on his feelings unless it’s absolute torture. Right?

This idea you latched onto days before is what got you into your current situation: flirting obnoxiously with John Walker and letting the man put his hands all over you.

“If this isn’t torture for him,” you think, “it’s at least torture for me.”

You chance a glance at Bucky across the room. He is clearly displeased with the development between Walker and yourself.

Ever since Walker was introduced to Sam, Bucky, and yourself, you were all off put by his overconfident, entitled behavior. You all agree he does not deserve to carry Steve’s shield—he does not deserve to be called Captain America. So, flirting with Walker, you know, is absolutely a sure way to get under Bucky’s skin.

You weren’t quite prepared for how uncomfortable it is making you, however.

“So, what do you say, sexy? Want to celebrate when we win this fight?” Walker flashes you what he clearly thinks is a charming smile.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bucky tense; his enhanced hearing picking up Walker’s innuendo. You take it to mean your plan is working.

—

“For the love of god, Barnes, just go tell her how you feel. It’s the quickest way to get her to stop talking to him!” Sam berates Bucky. Frankly, he’s sick of this will-they-won’t-they game you and Bucky are playing.

“No,” Bucky says simply, clenching his jaw and causing Same to groan.

“Why the hell not?”

Bucky doesn’t respond.

“She’s trying to make you jealous. You know that, right? She is intentionally torturing you so that you’ll man the fuck up and make a move.”

Bucky glares at Sam.

“That’s not what she’s doing.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam challenges. “You think she looks happy to have Walker touching her and making suggestive comments?”

Bucky purses his lips and turns to stare at you again. He is keenly aware that you tense up every time Walker touches you and that you clench your jaw whenever he insinuates anything.

“Because I don’t think she’d be glancing over here to see your reaction if she was actually interested Walker over there.”

Bucky shoots Sam another annoyed look before returning his gaze to you. That’s when he makes eye contact with you.

You raise an eyebrow. He keeps his face stoic. You smirk. He scrunches his eyebrows. You keep a watchful eye on him while you stand on your tip toes to reach Walker’s ear, whispering something unintelligible to Bucky.

Walker’s eyebrows shoot up before looking at you with shocked, yet excited, eyes.

“Damn. Yeah. I, uh, I’ve got a good 20 minutes before I have to head out. We can go to my car?”

Bucky’s neck turns red as anger creeps through his body when he catches Walker’s words. It’s the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.

Boys only want love if it’s torture.

—

You inwardly cheer when you see Bucky start towards you with a furious look on his face.

You back away from Walker, pretending to mull over his proposition as you let Bucky reach you.

Bucky shoves Walker out of the way and plants himself directly in front of you. His hands reach to your face, holding either side so gently—a direct contrast to the aggressive demeanor he carried on his trek to you. He leans in and kisses you passionately.

Bucky’s lips on yours is everything you hoped it would be: euphoric. His lips feel pillowy against yours, albeit slightly chapped. The force of his lips connecting with yours is gentle enough not to hurt you but aggressive enough to tell you he wants you. His teeth gently pulling your bottom lip between his makes you weak in the knees, and you can’t help but gasp.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

Your arms quickly snake around his neck, eyes fluttering shut. You let him keep control of the kiss—you’d tortured him enough—and only pull away when you desperately need to breathe.

As your lips disconnect, he rests his forehead against your own, but he stays silent.

“Well, hey there, Sarge,” you tease. “That was quite the hello.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Don’t be coy, Doll. I know what you were doing.”

“What was I doing?”

“You know.”

“I don’t. You should tell me.”

“You were torturing me.”

“I wasn’t doing anything to you, Bucky. I wasn’t even talking to you!” You allow your tone to remain playful while you deny any scheming that took place.

“You were talking to him,” he says with disgust.

“I can talk to whomever I please,” you point out.

“Not men who want to take what’s mine,” Bucky grumbles before connecting your lips again:

“Yours?”

Bucky nods, “If you want to be.”

“Obviously. Took you long enough. Can’t believe you made me flirt with Walker to get your attention.”

“Shut up.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x f!reader

2K notes · View notes

beyondthesefourwalls · 6 months

Text

Twin Fire Signs

Summary: When the majority of your squad intentionally leaves you drunk and alone at a bar, you resign yourself to finding your own way home and dealing with your wounded pride in peace. But then your phone rings, the name of the last person you expected to be calling you on a Friday night flashing on your screen. You know you shouldn’t answer, but too much tequila has never led to great decisions.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: language, drinking

-------

—

You were drunk.

There wasn’t really any denying it now, just like there was no denying that you were alone without any of the people you came here with. It took a complete lap of the bar and waiting outside of the bathrooms for an eyebrow raising amount of time for you to accept it, but it was an inevitable conclusion now: your team, your squad, had ditched you. By the looks they had exchanged in the ready room in the tower, you were sure the invitation had only been extended as a courtesy and that none of them had expected you to actually say yes. Which was fair, because up until this point, you hadn’t. But you decided to accept on a whim, high off the adrenaline from the phenomenal flying you had just done, mixed with a lapse in judgment and a previous night of feeling particularly lonely. You had been off-brand craving social interaction. Now, you were regretting it and remembering why you preferred being alone. They had bought you a few shots, and all it took was a quick trip to the bathroom for you to come back and all of them be just…gone.

You never should have let your guard down.

There was a reason you had declined nearly every invitation from them to go out for drinks, and it wasn’t because of your desperate need to keep work separate from your private life. You knew the people on your squad were assholes, and you knew they didn’t like you all that much. You were the lone Lieutenant Junior Grade amongst a squad of Lieutenants. On top of that, the first woman of said rank to not only make it there, but be handed the trophy at the end of Top Gun.

You were good. Very good. You knew it, and so did the rest of the squad you had been assigned to when, following your win, you were transferred from Corpus Christi and stationed at Top Gun permanently two months ago. You had come in and blown them all out of the water, and none of them particularly liked it.

You should have known that something like this would happen tonight.

You tried not to let it bother you as you plopped down on a barstool. The bartender, an older man tattooed from his bald head to the tips of his fingers, slid a glass of water in front of you with a roll of his eyes. You gave what you hoped was an appreciative thank you and hiccuped as you took your first sip. After downing half the glass and a handful of bar pretzels, you fumbled with your phone, looking through several rideshare apps to see which one would get you the cheapest and quickest ride home so you could sulk in private.

You were debating if the extra ten bucks for a ride that would show up five minutes quicker was worth it when your screen switched over to an incoming call. Your eyes widened in shock at the name staring up at you.

Lieutenant Seresin

Oh no. Oh no.

It was almost 10pm on a Friday night and Hangman was calling you. And you were drunk. He hadn’t come out with you all tonight, but that wasn’t uncommon. If you were an outcast in one regard, he was an outcast in another. Your squad wanted little to do with you, but they worshiped him. But instead of humoring them, he spent the majority of his time with the special squadron he was also assigned to, who were spread out amongst other teams on base.

You didn’t think that he'd said two words to you that weren’t criticism or a challenge since that day. So why the hell was he calling you now?

You considered not answering and letting the call go to voicemail. You stared at the name for so long weighing your options that the screen darkened as the vibrations stopped. You heaved out a sigh of relief, only to squeak in surprise when the phone started vibrating again.

You tried to take a deep breath when you answered, a slightly high pitched “Hello?” being offered. You winced when it was quickly followed by a hiccup, and then another.

“Are you drunk?”

Fuck.

“Um. Yes.”

You winced at your answer. Being blunt was one of your many character flaws, but you probably could have tried to have a little more tact, considering who you were talking to.

“Are you still at Lumpys?”

“Yes,” you answered automatically, but your brows furrowed as your alcohol soaked brain processed his words. “Wait. How did you know that?”

“Are you okay?” he asked, completely ignoring your question. The bar was so loud around you that you had a bit of trouble hearing him, but that last tequila shot must have done you in, because you could hear annoyance, certainly, but you thought maybe you heard concern, too. You took a gulp of your water to try and clear your mind, because there was no way.

You must have taken too long to respond because he snapped out your name, your first name, and you almost gasped at the sound of it. You don’t think he’s ever actually said your name before; the deep timber of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

Oh no.

Now was not the time for your thoughts to run away from you into that territory.

“I’m drunk,” you said dumbly.

You could practically feel the pause on the other end before he let out a sigh of your call sign that sounded almost angry.

“Are you safe?” he asked, since you hadn’t directly answered his question on being okay. You took in your surroundings with a long glance, your normal ability to clock everything delayed.

Lumpys wasn’t the nicest place. You had never even heard of it before tonight. It was dark and loud and smokey despite the laws prohibiting it in California. It definitely wasn’t a military bar, that was for sure. You wondered for the first time why the rest of the squad had chosen this spot when the Hard Deck was so close to base, as well as two or three other bars that were frequented by uniforms not of the biker variety. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat when you realized that maybe they had done that on purpose, because you were coming with them and they knew they wouldn’t stick around. From the end of the bar, the bartender glanced at the water in front of you to see if a refill was needed before rolling his eyes again and looking away as he cleaned glasses.

“Well,” you drew out, pushing down the unwanted emotions suddenly hitting you. “I can’t decide if the bartender is a giant tattooed teddy bear or a gang enforcer. Could go either way, honestly.”

He cursed on the other end and you thought maybe you heard the sound of a vehicle starting. You weren’t really sure, thinking maybe the loudness of the bar was making you hear things, but then his next words affirmed it.

“Don’t move. I’ll come get you.”

Your eyes widened and you sat up straighter in the barstool you had been slumped over in. “Wait, what?”

“I’m coming to get you.”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. I was about to get an Uber or something-”

He said your first name again, and it set butterflies loose in your stomach that you tried desperately to catch and put back in the box they came from. His voice lowered into something gentle, a tone you hadn’t heard in weeks from the fellow aviator. “Just hang tight. I’ll be there in 20, maybe less.”

You thought about arguing with him and insisting that that wasn’t necessary and you could make your way home just fine by yourself. Even if you were sober, you’d have been in charge of finding your own way home tonight. Quarterback had given you a ride from base after work, and you had assumed you’d be able to catch a ride back, too. But he was long gone with the rest of your squad.

“I…okay,” you finally said, accepting your fate.

He hung up without a goodbye, and you were sure if this was a regular phone call, you’d roll your eyes at how rude the gesture was. But all you could focus on at this point was the sound of your name in his voice and the fact that he was apparently coming to get you.

You were fucked.

You chugged your water, some of it spilling down your chin in the process. When you set the glass down it was with a little too much force right as the bartender walked by. You winced at the annoyed look he shot you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. He refilled your water with a glare and without a word, moving onto other customers before you could say anything else. You took another gulp of it with a grimace and then set your head in your hand, taking in a deep breath.

Your team leader, Hangman, Jake, would be picking you up from the bar, because the rest of your squad had abandoned you after you had taken a few too many shots.

The same one who you had more respect for than anyone else, who you’ve also maybe harbored a crush on since you came to Top Gun, and who had barely looked at you since you almost kissed four weeks ago.

Great.

Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin was a legend in the small population of aviators in the US Navy. He was truly the 1% of the 1%. You tried to model a lot of your own career and techniques after him. It helped that you seemed to be similar on an instinctual level, and you had the same indifferent attitudes. Standoffish, as some would say. You both knew you were good, too good to be true in a lot of ways. You had earned the right to have the attitude.

You had been thrilled to be assigned to the same squad as him. You were excited to learn as much as you could from him, to befriend him. And that’s what it had been, at first. The two of you flew together well, and it translated on the ground. He noticed the similarities too, and didn’t hesitate with sharing notes and advice with you. He was so passionate and intelligent about what he did, and that’s what drew you to him first. He knew what he was doing and wasn’t ashamed of it, and that had attracted you more than anything. His good looks certainly didn’t hurt, though.

You had taken to spending time together between hops, and eventually, started talking about more than just flying. It turned out you had a lot in common outside of the Navy, too. He was so easy to talk to. But then almost a month ago, you had been alone in the rec room, talking about the previous night's Cowboys game, of all things, when he had suddenly stepped into your personal space.

His eyes had been dark and intense, and you could feel the heat emanating from his body. The intoxicating combination of his cologne and the smell of jet fuel that you had started associating with him had been even more palpable that close together. You thought he was going to kiss you, to finally give into the tension you thought had been building, and you wanted him to. But then just as quickly as he stepped forward, he had pulled away, leaving you hanging and confused.

And you’ve been that way ever since.

After that moment, things had been different between you. He barely spared you a second glance when you were on the ground and criticized everything you did when you were in the cockpit. You had tried to speak with him, to understand what the fuck had happened, but Jake Seresin was just as good at evading on the ground as he was in the air. So you buried your feelings as deep as you could inside of yourself and tried to mark him off as just another asshole who wasn’t worth your time.

But damn if the alcohol and the way he said your name and sounded something like concerned didn’t have your heart racing and you questioning everything.

A little over fifteen minutes and another glass of water later, a shiver ran through your body. You turned your head right as the door to the bar swung open, eyes meeting the unmistakable figure of the aviator occupying your mind. He wasn’t donning his usual khaki uniform or flight suit that you were used to seeing him in — snug jeans hugged his legs and a white shirt clung to his chest, and you realized it was the first time you’d seen him so casual. Your lips parted slightly as you watched him look around. He stood in the entrance, scanning the room with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. Your heart skipped a beat when his eyes finally locked onto you.

You raised your hand in a pitiful, unneeded wave, and in the dimly lit bar, you swore you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders. He started making his way through the crowd to you immediately. You watched him with wary, cautious eyes.

“You alright?” he asked. His demeanor remained stoic, but those intense green eyes that you had admired for so long seemed to hold a blend of concern and something else you couldn't quite decipher. From this close up, you could see the way they flicked up and down your body as if assessing for himself your current state.

“Yeah,” you said softly, feeling flushed under his scrutiny. “I’m fine.”

He gave a slight nod, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned to the bar. Without a word, he pulled out his wallet and slipped his credit card from the leather. Your eyes widened.

“Wait, Hangman, no.”

You scrambled for your wallet in your tiny small crossbody bag, but before you could get the zipper opened, your self-appointed savior waved you off and handed his card to the approaching bartender. You watched in defeat as the card was swiped and handed back and his signature scrawled on the receipt all in what looked like one smooth motion. Why had you not thought to pay your tab before he had shown up? You were never going to live this down.

“Finish your water and we’ll go,” he told you as he slipped his wallet back into his back pocket.

“It’s my third glass since you called me. If I finish it I can’t be held responsible for your upholstery.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words left your mouth. You rubbed at your temples with a groan, your face twisted into a disbelieving grimace. “Please tell me I didn’t just say that.”

To your surprise, Hangman let out a chuckle. Your eyes popped open in shock. His laughter was a rare occurrence in your presence these days, and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered wildly at the sound. Damnit.

"You did," he replied with a faint smirk, his stoic demeanor cracking just a bit. You groaned, and the blonde laughed again before he glanced around the bar, his expression settling back into something more serious. “Are you ready?”

You slid off the barstool, feeling slightly unbalanced on your feet. When you stumbled, he reached out to steady you. You sucked in a breath. It was a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, the two of you just…stared. It was almost reminiscent of that day. But then a bottle broke from a few feet away, shattering the moment — whatever it was — right along with it. Hangman cleared his throat and dropped his hand back to his side.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you home.” You thought maybe you saw the faintest hint of red creeping up on his neck before he turned away, and your mind struggled to rationalize it.

Once you were outside, the cool night air hit you, and it was a welcome relief. You breathed in deeply as you followed behind him to where his large black truck was parked. You knew from one of your conversations before that he had boughten it last year when he was stationed in California after only ever leasing vehicles before. It was a way for him to establish roots now that he was given the opportunity to settle in one place.

The lights flashed as he unlocked it, opening the passenger door and motioning for you to get in. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was really how your night was going. You chanced a glance at the man holding the door open and he raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what the hold up was. You could have laughed at the irony. It took you a second to realize that you had.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, and you felt the heat of embarrassment in your face.

“Nothing,” you muttered, and you turned away before you could say or do anything else to make a fool out of yourself.

The leather seats were comfortable when you clumsily climbed in, and the interior of the car was immaculate, crisp and clean just like you often thought he was. It didn’t surprise you a bit. Hangman settled into the driver's seat, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him as he started the engine. He handed you his phone to put your address in and as country music played quietly over the speakers, he put the truck in drive.

You didn’t know what to say, and Hangman seemed content with the quiet. You watched him from the corner of your eye as he drove, the muscles in his arms flexing with every turn of the wheel. You couldn’t help but wonder what those arms would feel like around you, holding you against him. It was a dangerous thought, and you shook it off before it could take root.

You closed your eyes and leant your head back against the seat as you let the wind from the open windows cool your skin. The effects of the alcohol were slowly wearing off, leaving your mind clearer, but no less confused. Being in his presence like this was still throwing you for a loop.

Why had he dropped everything and shown up for you tonight, after doing everything professionally possible to avoid you for the last month? Why had he ignored you to begin with?

Why did you even care?

Neither of you spoke the entire way, and all the questions in your head were like a stoking fire that was rapidly sparking by the time he turned into your apartment complex. Instead of dropping you off in front of your building, he pulled into one of the visitors spots and put the truck in park. He didn’t kill the engine, though, and you wondered if that meant something.

For a moment, you both just sat there, staring straight ahead. You could feel the tension between you, slowly but surely simmering. You knew the smart thing to do would be to get out of the truck. Thank him for coming to get you and go inside, and then come Monday morning, go back to the same routine. You knew you were capable of it — you had mastered the art of indifference years ago.

“Think you’ll make it upstairs?” he asked, disrupting the silence. You frowned at his choice of words, feeling just the tiniest bit offended. You knew how it looked, being drunk and alone. But he was the one who took it upon himself to show up. He had no right to judge you. You couldn’t help the scoff you let out.

“You didn’t have to come get me, you know. You didn’t have to call at all.”

His eyes widened before they squeezed shut, and it was almost like he realized the tone of what he said. You shook your head with a sigh, suddenly so unbelievably tired.

“Thanks for the ride,” you mumbled. You unbuckled your seatbelt and leant down to grab your purse from the floor. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Hangman’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before you could open the door. You turned to look at him and found him staring at you intently, his green eyes dark and brooding.

“Wait,” he said, his voice urgent and rough. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

He said your name in such a way that you knew nothing would follow it, the blonde at a loss for words for once in his life.

"How did you know where I was?" you blurted out, the words escaping before you could censor them. But the question had been plaguing you since he called, so you didn’t backtrack. You felt like you had a right to know.

You could see the tension in his jaw before he spoke. “Quarterback.”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Quarterback told you where I was?”

“Yes.”

“Did he call you, or….?”

Hangman let out a long sigh, tilting his head back to rest against the seat. “The squad was at the Hard Deck like they normally are, being obnoxious —”

“Like they normally are?” you couldn’t help but interrupt. He cracked a half smile, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes as he dipped his chin in agreement. Your shared tolerance level for the other members of your squad was something you had discussed at length before.

“Like they usually are. I asked them where you were, since you were the only one not there and I had heard you tell them yes earlier. He told me they left you at Lumpy’s. They thought it was funny.”

You nodded slowly, processing the information. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting, just a little bit, that they went as far as going somewhere out of the ordinary just so they could leave you there and make you the punchline of a joke. You let your eyes close and sulked in the feeling for a brief moment. You didn’t need these people. You didn’t even particularly like them, outside of being in the air. But damn. You swallowed thickly and shook your head, as if to completely dislodge the feeling. You supposed them ditching you wasn’t necessarily surprising. You knew how they felt about you, just as they knew your opinions, too. What you were surprised about was that Hangman had bothered to ask about your whereabouts in the first place. It was almost like he cared. Almost.

“So why’d you come?” you asked, still trying to understand. “I could have gotten an Uber.”

For a long moment, he just stared, and you looked right back. His expression was hard to decipher. The streetlights outside cast shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face, and you felt like he was seeing right through you. Still, he said nothing. The silence stretched on, tension growing thick in the air. You couldn’t stand it.

You were about to ask him again, to demand an answer, when he finally spoke. His voice was low and measured, a hint of anger looping through the words, and you shivered at the tone of it.

“They had no right to leave you there like that. I couldn’t — I had to know you were okay.”

You stared at him, feeling something deep and aching stir inside you. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to react. Everything was suddenly so much more complicated than it had been before.

“Jake…” you whispered, and you don’t know if it was the way you used his first name over his callsign or if he was just finally ready to get it off of his chest, but it was like the single syllable finally cracked the floodgates open.

“I was seeing somebody,” he said. You sucked in a deep breath at the words, a soft “oh” falling from your lips. He continued on before you could think to say anything else. “For a while. Almost a year. She’s exactly what I always pictured I wanted, you know? She travels a lot, but we were figuring it out. But we were serious.”

A beat passed, and you cleared your throat in the silence of the truck. You almost felt awkward when you asked, “Were?”

He nodded, clenching his jaw, before laughing in a way that sounded more self-deprecating than you had ever heard from him. “I’m a lot of things, darlin. But I’m not a cheater, physical or otherwise. It wouldn’t have been so easy for me to catch feelings for someone else if she and I were meant to be together. And the way I had started to feel…”

He cut himself off with a shake of his head, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned ghostly white. You processed the words slowly, mulling over them over and over again as you tried to figure out the implications behind them.

“About me?” you dared yourself to ask, your heart beating hard in your chest and damn near holding your breath after you did.

He met your gaze head on, his green eyes blazing with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “About you. I think I’ve been feeling this way for a while now, but it wasn’t until that day in the ready room that I realized I couldn’t keep denying it anymore. I care about you more than I should.”

The weight of his words was heavy, and you felt a flush start to creep up your neck. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the truck, leaving the two of you suspended in a moment that felt both infinite and fleeting. You didn't know what to say, didn't even know exactly what you were feeling right now. You never thought he would feel the same way that you did, to the point where he had apparently broken up with a girlfriend you had no idea about. But then he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t acted.

You had no idea what any of this meant.

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him, but before you could get a word out, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You gasped against his mouth, but his lips were warm and firm and you couldn’t help the way you relaxed into it. It wasn’t more than a press of your lips together, neither of you moving to deepen it, but it left you dizzy like it was the most intense kiss of your life.

When you pulled back, you were both breathing heavier, your foreheads pressed together.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with something that felt emotional. “I shouldn't have...not yet. But I had to know what it felt like.”

You swallowed, focusing on one word.“Yet?”

Hangman, Jake, nodded, and the silence stretched on for a long moment. You were still reeling from his kiss, the emotion, your own confusion over your feelings and what it all might mean. Then he sighed, loud and deep. From this close, you could smell the peppermint from the gum he always chewed on his breath. He pulled away so he could look into your eyes and cupped your cheek. The smile he gave you was tinged with sadness and longing, and the strangest mix of hope. You knew before he said anything that nothing would be happening tonight.

“I’m not…I’m not ready yet,” he said softly. Even though you knew something of the sort was coming, there was a flash of disappointment. He must have read it on your face, because he was quick to try and reassure you. “It’s not you. It’s just…I just ended it with her. And I’m still confused as hell over what I feel for you. I think you both deserve more than me rushing into something without figuring that out. Please understand.”

You nodded, even though you weren't entirely sure if you did. You wanted him, that much was clear. But you also didn't want to be someone's rebound. You wanted something real, something meaningful. And you were willing to wait for that. You just hoped he was too.

“Okay," you whispered, taking a deep breath. "I understand.”

He smiled at you again, a small, sad curve of his lips, before leaning in to press his forehead against yours. "Thank you," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips. "You're amazing, you know that?"

You wanted him to kiss you again. You ached for it, almost. But you knew if you closed the distance that you’d be going back on everything he had just asked for and the understanding you had promised him you had. So instead, you swallowed thickly and pulled away from him all together. He seemed to understand the distance you were creating and released another deep breath, clearing his throat.

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "For coming to get me."

He nodded, and the two of you fell into silence again. There was something in his eyes that made you think he wasn't done yet. "Can I walk you up to your door?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was a good idea. But at the same time, you didn't want this moment to end, either, even if it was just a few more minutes. "Sure," you finally said.

The two of you got out of the truck and made your way up to your apartment, the silence between you heavy. He was walking so close that you could feel the body heat radiating from him, and you were starting to feel hot all over. When you reached your door, you turned to face him, unsure of what to say. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared.

"Thank you again," you said softly.

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he let out a deep breath. "Of course,” he said, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled when he pulled away. “I'll see you Monday?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

You nodded. "Yeah, I'll see you then."

He stepped away, staring for just a moment longer before he whispered out a goodnight and turned and walked back down the hallway. You watched him go, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside of you. You didn't know what was going to happen between the two of you, but you thought maybe you were ready to find out. You turned to your door and pulled out your keys, taking a deep breath before unlocking it and stepping inside.

---------------

Main Masterlist

Notes: More of The Blonde One™️needed to be added to my masterlist. I hope you enjoyed whatever this was lol. Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement!

Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 @thedroneranger for the help! And to Mak for the prettiest banner that finally gets to see the light of day😍

#alli writes #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman x you #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #jake hangman x reader #hangman x oc #hangman x y/n #jake seresin x female reader

1K notes · View notes

pvrkacciosan · 7 months

Text

Prize Podium

Synopsis: You decide to announce your pregnancy to him in a moment of fame.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz X Fem!reader

Warnings; idk

Word count: 1K

You knew he could win this weekend. Something deep in your bones was telling you Carlos was going to get a podium.

Which only made your planning all the more exciting, you had known for about three weeks that you had tested positive with a pregnancy test, and had it confirmed last week by a doctor's appointment. Now there was one thing left to do, Tell Carlos.

Your plan was simple, make a sign to hold up for when he was on the podium, It wasn't as extravagant as some of the other pregnancy announcements you'd seen online, but you knew Carlos and mixing the two things he was most passionate about, you could think of nothing better and no other way to tell him he was going to become a father to a new Sainz Jnr.

Most of his team were in on the surprise, the mechanics moved with an air of excitement, which Carlos has mentioned to you before he climbed into the car.

It has taken everything in your composure to not smile when he asked if you knew why they were all super happy, something to do with, he hadn't won yet.

On the current grid, this would be the most recent child born of any driver after Max and his wife had their daughter Zoe.

You had met the girl a few times and saw how Carlos looked at the little family. With such longing it has made your heart seize.

But now all you were feeling was nerves, worry bit in that maybe you had read his signals wrong, maybe he didn't want to have a kid with you.

Your hand pulls the sign up over your legs, sat in a chair in the garage, you could heat the head mechanic speaking to Carlos though the headsets, despite the outside noise of the others teams.

"Carlos we need this podium, you think you can get faster on the corners"

You didn't hear your fiance's response, but the team members with headsets all shot you sidelong excited glances.

It's simple to say they are equally as excited about the prospect of miniature Sainz running around, despite the distraction having a baby in here would pose.

You continued to watch the monitors, Carlos was two points of a second behind Lando, you knew they would always be happy for each other, the previous team-mates like brothers.

Lando was also privy to the surprise, you could spot the exact moment Lando slipped slightly too wide, allowing Carlos just enough room to slipstream his way past on an inside line.

That put him up into second place of the podium,

It didn't appear like any other drivers was getting anywhere close as Lando defends against them, stopping them from potentially knocking Carlos from the podium. Whether he has done it intentionally or not, you had to thank the British driver later.

That's simply left Max in pole position. He was almost half a minute in front of second position, you could see how he was driving, Carlos was fighting to keep up.

With every turn and straight he raced on faster, chasing Max down.

Something must had caused a delay, as when Max flew out from the pits during a tyre chance, he was only just in front of Carlos now.

You felt the air shift in the garage as they began fighting for the pole position.

You heart was hammering in your chest with excitement as they zipped onto the finally lap, it was still so uncertain who was going to be the first to cross the finish line.

They were at the last corner when Max came precariously close to pushing Carlos off the track, but your fiance didn't back down, pushing it he seemed to floor the throttle,

Rattling the car on until both flew over the finish line.

There was a bustle around the garage from the team, you could pick up on how they believed the FIA might review the footage,

You gathered what you had with you, moving with the team, there was two of them that stayed practically glued to your side, making sure you weren't too squashed between the excited mass of people. Body blocking them from bumping into you too much.

The smile smacked straight across you face when you looked up to the podium, Carlos standing right in the pole position. Max in second and Lando in third

Max has been given a five second penalty for pushing Carlos off the track. Giving his just an edge to snatch up the first position.

Pride beamed in your chest as Carlos scanned the crowd for you, it was nice to hear something other then the Dutch national anthem, you held the sign below the height of the crowd, you needed to wait for the right moment.

Once the trophy has been presented to each driver, you wiggled your way through the sea of red suits, the Ferrari team allowed you passage and even got you through the gate, you didn't want to know who they talked to to make that happen.

But as the champagne was sprayed you got ready, unfolding the sign, you held it up above your head, Lando was the first to spot you, slapping an alcohol soaked hand onto Carlos' shoulder, your fiance turned over his shoulder.

His face dropped and you saw the screens above pan into his face, and before you knew it the cameras had followed his line of sight.

You appeared on the screen next, the sign,

Baby Sainz coming May 2024.

Carlos' expression crumpled and he broke down, Lando hugging into his friends side, he raised the bottle to you, drinking some of what was left.

The crowds of fans and other teams yelled in excitement, you watched as Max clapped Carlos shoulder in congratulations.

Over by the Red Bull team you could see Zoe, and her mum hugged next to the barrier, watching Max with a fond expression.

You almost wept at the sight, that could be you next year, and as Carlos rushed down from the podiums to pull you into his embrace,

You couldn't help but be anything but wholly excited.

Taglist: @80sloverry @unofficial-journalist @celestialams @mirrorball-6 @love4lando @ironmaiden1313

#formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x female reader #f1 pregnancy #dad!carlos sainz

581 notes · View notes

kichiyosh1 · 11 months

Text

He takes advantage of your feelings for him

modern au!scaramouche x reader

Ain't it nice when your crush is aware you have a crush on him and instead of being a prick and outright rejecting you he leads you on instead☺

warnings: it's in the title, good ending

༒༆࿐ཽ༵☆

It all started when he overheard one of your friends teasing you for taking a liking to him, which you were doing a horrible job at denying, with how quickly you stuttered out your words in protest. He might use this to his advantage, get you to do a couple of stuff for him and tease you a little bit in the process. Of course, he doesn't plan to return your feelings, pfft, no way in Celestia is that ever gonna happen. Totally no way would he actually start to appreciate you for something as minor as that.

How fortunate unfortunate of you to be his target out of the many others that also liked him, but why did he choose you? convenience? your naivety? who knows.

He wanted to test how far this crush of yours on him was, so the next morning he put his plan into action.

He never actually greets anyone he passes by, usually hanging around outside the school before the bell rings or just having his arms folded on his desk while he dozzes off, but today he put in the effort to say good morning to you before he rounded a corner.

Quickly doing a 180° turn right after to see your reaction, and low and behold you had your back to the wall, slowly sliding down, face in your hands.

Oh, so you really had it that bad for him, huh.

He was playing a dangerous game here, one that he was determined to win, and one he knew he would thoroughly enjoy.

Moves he'd make on you were subtle, but to you, from what he thinks, should be more than just subtle interactions, but meaningful ones.

He'd intentionally lean down right beside your ear, talking in a sweet voice as he pretends to ask questions while pointing at the notes he's seen you write down.

He knows the effect he has on you, can see how your hands struggle to hold your pen while your voice slowly becomes meeker as you explain the answer.

"Cute"

He didn't even realize what he said until he saw your hand stop moving. Luckily, everything still went into his favor when you abruptly stood up and quickly explained you had something to discuss with your friend, but he could clearly see how flustered you were.

He let's out a sigh of relief. 'It's alright, I meant to do that, just trying to butter up that idiot for the next step in my plan, yeah'

Something of uneasiness steers within him, but he ignores it.

These were just feelings of interest he's PRETENDING to have for you in order to gain your trust, nothing more and nothing less. It's all an act to get you to do stuff for him

But he has yet to realize the fast pace of his heart was the same as yours

Most of his assignments were already complete thanks to you, projects and reports he's forgotten to do, you are currently dealing with them.

It baffles him how easy and gullible you are

The guilt nips at his feet, but he strengthens his resolve saying you would have fallen for somebody else, and they would have done way worse things to you. (he gets a little agitated thinking about it, whether they'd use you for their own benefit or return your feelings, it makes him sick)

guilt tripping you didn't make it easier either

he wonders if you are aware of what he's doing, and even if you were then that's alright with him.

He'll keep this up, for as long as your heart continues to beat for him.

Its really short.

was gonna write a nsfw route but idk if i should since I'm really tired😪

#kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

640 notes · View notes

thyandrawrites · 4 months

Text

On (soccer) partnerships, commitment, and why Nagi and Reo are the poster children for always doing the opposite of what the series is about

Alright fellas, this started out as something completely different, so forgive me in advance if it feels disjointed, but.

Have you wondered why in chapter 18 of epinagi, Nagi’s inner monologue complains that his “heat is being stolen away”? Or why even in the main series Nagi can’t seem to win a single match even after he and Reo get on better terms? Well, if you have, this post might be a fun read for you. If you already have answers, I might sound like I’m stating the obvious because none of this is particularly subtle or particularly new. But since both series have hit the Nagi Flop Era, I thought it’d be fun to take a deep dive into his character and Reo’s, the themes of the story, and how their codependence contradicts the entire premise of blue lock, intentionally so. I’m going to go over why stagnancy is the entire point of their partnership, and why the fact that they keep failing and failing is instrumental to the type of story Kaneshiro is trying to tell.

So, without further ado. Get comfortable, this will get long.

So, as I anticipated, Nagi and Reo are very very often written to be at odds with the themes the story functions around, and I think their regression is another instance of that. In a manga that often underlines the importance of making soccer your “reason to exist” if you’re serious about it, Nagi and Reo are the only duo repeatedly singled out as more committed to each other than to the sport itself. This, the story tells us, being the root of why they so often fail.

The premise of blue lock is that you can’t become the best in the world until you dedicate your whole self to the sport. Only that egoism will push you in the right state of mind to go above and beyond for a victory.

Time and time again, we see the most outstanding goals happen in what gets called the hottest place in the field. This “center of heat” comes up a couple of times, and it’s usually represented by a person. According to Ego’s philosophy, the idea is that the world’s best striker possesses a soccer-specific kind of charisma. When he enters a state of flow and pulls off a world-class play, he’ll have a ripple effect on the players around him, pushing them to reach flow too and elevating the level of the game itself. We saw this happening in the U-20 match. Ego’s not really aiming to create a national team, or to foster the talent of the new generation. He only cares about nurturing one person into that role, betting it all on the fact that once that striker awakens from its “rough diamond” shell, they will fire up their teammates & lead Japan to victory.

Because of this, ideally, everyone aiming at becoming the world’s best striker should strive to be that center of heat. To an extent, even Nagi does. His motivation is spotty at best, but whenever a game heats up, Nagi’s ego gets tickled awake the same as everyone else’s. This is not limited to the times Isagi challenged him, by the way. He reacted to Rin’s skill in much the same way.

Problem is, neither Nagi nor Reo seem to know how to become that center of heat by themselves. They only react to someone else raising the stakes of a match. Even when Nagi feels fired up, his lack of creativity & playmaking sense fail him against any opponent who is more tactical than him. In a similar way, even when Reo starts going after goals alone in the wake of his split from Nagi, he still can't see his vision of a goal through to the end, or gets outsmarted and beaten to the punch by other playmakers.

The only times they really get their head into a game is when they're working as a duo. Compare for example Nagi losing grasp of his heated frenzy when he splits from Reo to how quickly he reaches flow when they go back to playing together.

So why is this an issue? If Nagi's limit is his over-reliance on instinct, and Reo's is the lack of self-centeredness that's key to scoring, then shouldn't teaming up solve the problem and make them a powerhouse? How come, even after somewhat resolving their communication issues, their soccer still is no match to that of the blue lock elites?

Well, before I can begin to unpack the answer to that… A big theme driving the soccer partnerships is that you won’t go very far if you rely too much on the other person to carry your weight. This is the reality Bachira faces in the 4v4, when he “disappears”, swallowed by everyone else’s growth. This is also the lesson Rin learns from Sae when his brother returns from Spain a completely different, overwhelmingly superior player. The series tells us that relying on others to pick up your slack makes you less sharp and prone to noticing your weaknesses because someone else will cover your back.

For a practical example of this, Rin's style when he played with Sae mirrors Nagi's around Reo: they both relied on instinct, trusting that the ball would always come if they just positioned themselves in the right spot to score. And for a time, it did. But that's not the level the rest of the world plays at. Nagi and Reo's winning streak ends when they face an unpredictable, explosive talent like Isagi, who doesn't operate according to any predictable patterns. Similarly, Rin's playstyle gets wrecked in a matter of minutes by a Sae who got to experience the "real" soccer played overseas.

The point, then, is that Nagi and Reo never really assimilated any of Ego's lessons, instead resisting his philosophy to a fault by choosing each other. From the start, they’re not very good at being apart, given how their strength draws from being a team. Both of them are noted to only ever increase the level of their plays when they are working together, but not as much when alone.

Nagi’s the brawn to complete Reo’s brain, and their dynamic too often falls back on that codependent partnership. In fact, they default to their roles even when they're not playing with each other. During the second selection, Nagi replaces Reo with Isagi, continuing to rely on someone else's creativity and game sense, while he just follows. And in the 3v3, we similarly see Reo fall back on playing the midfielder to Kunigami and Chigiri's forward, offering up the perfect passes to make them shine and get all the scoring options they want.

But what about when they're together? Aren't they strong then? Didn't Nagi score a crazy super goal thanks to Reo's assist? What do we make of that?

You'll probably remember how Ego got a sense of foreboding from Nagi's five shot revolver. Of course, you might say, Ego never liked their soccer! He was cussing them out for playing together since day one! Of course he's a hater!

Well… Yeah. But Ego's also an authorial insert, and he's there to tell us the themes of the story, and comment on the characters growth. Or in this case, their stagnancy. Nagi's returning to his reliance on Reo's brains and Reo's willingness to entertain it are both framed as a bad thing because it specifically contradicts the idea the series is based on: that a real striker is an egotistic, self-reliant existence that doesn't bend to other people's rules, but instead dictates their own, and makes everyone follow or fall through in their wake.

There are several players this definition already applies to. Rin, Barou, Shidou and of course Isagi all come to mind. Isagi's growth in particular has been rotating around this concept. Isagi not only believes in his (meta) vision, but he also possesses the sharp-wit and the cutthroat resourcefulness to see it through no matter the odds, at times even to the detriment of his teammates. Nagi and Reo, on the other hand, can pull off some incredible plays, but it’s never enough to land them a solid victory, especially in the NEL arc. Usually, in a story, when a character fails enough times to become stagnant, the author is making some kind of point. In this case, as the narrative itself points out through Isagi first and Agi later, it’s the concept that relying on their teamwork is actually making Nagi and Reo’s soccer worse.

Sure, Nagi might've caught Isagi off guard with those feints once and managed to score, but that's still him relying on instinct over brains. If you dissect that match, you'll see that aside from the fake volley itself, which is the product of a non-replicable state of flow, there isn't a single move Nagi and Reo made during that game that Isagi didn't see through, expect, and match their pace at. This is by design, of course. It's meant to indicate that while Isagi grew, learning from stronger players and assimilating new elements in his arsenal of weapons, Nagi and Reo are still stuck playing the same way they did in the second selection. With Reo as the heart, brain and anchor directing Nagi around, and Nagi as the leg kicking the ball into the net following a momentary burst of inspiration.

The fact that this is intended as a setback in their path towards a more egotistical soccer is made more obvious by the timing. It's not a coincidence that Nagi went back to Reo the moment he got frustrated by how hard creativity and tactics come to him when he's on his own, without a "handler" like Reo (and later Isagi) taking care of all the hard parts.

Nor is it a coincidence that Reo was faced with the choice to go back to helping Nagi out right when Reo was beginning to go after his own goals, without help. Nagi comes up to him and shakes him up literally one (1) panel after Reo's dramatic, resolute decision to prove himself alone.

Had they gotten anywhere in their quest to polish their individual skills during the split, maybe their partnership could’ve aspired to become more like Isagi and Bachira’s, eventually. However, they weren’t apart long enough to master their respective strengths, or to consolidate their egos as something separate from their status as partners. Thus, when they resume playing together, they instead hold each other back.

So is their ego the problem here, then? Ever since that five shot fake volley, we see Nagi’s dissolve, leaving him unmotivated again, grasping for answers he can't seem to reach no matter how many people he asks. And surely, its disappearance is significant, much like how Reo's ever changing definition of his own ego is also significant. But I think the real issue is something else. Egos can take many forms, and Nagi and Reo aren't the only players whose so-called “protagonism” isn’t rooting for their own success. Most recently, Hiori gained an ego too, and it was framed as a good thing even though it doesn’t strictly lead to him becoming the best striker in the world.

My idea, then, is that it's less that they lack the "correct" ego, but more like they lack the correct attitude towards soccer to begin with. From the start, they're both motivated by something that is not inherent to soccer itself, but only tangential to it: the World Cup—or rather, their promise to each other that they'd win the World Cup. Because of this, I think, they center their football more around their partnership & their shared dream than any genuine passion for the sport, unlike pretty much the rest of the cast (now including Hiori. Yay!). In other words, the problem is that neither of their egos is really about themselves, yet. So it fails them because it's not conductive to "protagonism", but centered around an "us" that drags them off course.

Let's go with Nagi first. On the surface, "commitment" and "Nagi Seishirou" don't seem to go well in the same sentence. Nagi doesn't do anything excessively. He's content to coast through life doing nothing more than he strictly needs to survive. As long as he can put in minimal effort and still have time to play video games and nap, he's happy. When his teachers asked him to fill a form about his future, he couldn't think of anything he wanted to do. He's the embodiment of living one day at a time cause it's too much work to figure out his life past that. Yet, he genuinely commits to soccer.

Or does he?

Sure, he agrees to not only playing the sport, but to dedicating several years of his life to becoming pro. That’s dedication, for sure. But is it really for soccer? I would argue that no, Nagi’s commitment is to his partnership with Reo, not to the sport itself. And okay, you can’t have one without the other, but the distinction is important to understand Nagi’s (and Reo’s as well) resistance to character growth.

So, Nagi had no passion for the sport until he saw the level some other elite blue lockers played at, and got curious and frustrated enough to put real effort in it himself. But until then, soccer was simply something he tagged along in. In fact, he was pretty unenthused with the idea of playing until Reo promised him an easy life and made it so Nagi wouldn’t have to work hard for it. Nagi signs up for blue lock with the expectation that he’ll be the one to flunk out first, without being too torn up about it. Clearly, it’s not a career as a professional soccer player he has an attachment to. I’d argue it’s more the fact that he feels comfortable around Reo, and he is invested in what only their agreement can bring forth. That is, a life more exciting than any nap or game.

The excitement part is the focus here. At their core, both Nagi and Reo’s characters are motivated by the wish to escape boredom. So much so, the epinagi movie made that its tagline. Thematically, dissatisfaction with boredom is the catalyst for every choice they make. While everyone else is motivated by an ambition that is inherent—that draws from their wish to excel—Nagi and Reo are more prize-oriented, lacking the conviction that they’re special on their own. It follows that the challenge of bringing home the World Cup represents just that—for Nagi, it’s the thrill of a final boss with the prospect of an easy life afterwards, and for Reo, something hard to obtain that he’d conquer by his own merit. In both cases, soccer for soccer’s sake is not the end goal. It’s just a tool to achieve what they really want.

Neither of them ever really dreams of becoming the world’s best striker, and neither swears their entire life to soccer, either. Not even Reo ever brought up a career in the sport, past winning for Japan for the first time. This is why I say their commitment is more to each other than to football, and also why they struggle to advance in the program.

Let's think about it. The Cup was never really Nagi's dream; beating Isagi was. Yet, when their partnership all but crumbles down, Nagi keeps making choices with the Cup in mind. The boy who never fought for anything becomes determined to honor his promise to Reo even if he's not certain that Reo still cares about it. By his own admission, he chooses Isagi and then England because both of those things bring him closer to their original goal, and Nagi's resolve for that has never waned, even if for a time he thought Reo's had.

It's like he clings to inertia to avoid thinking what the sport means to him. Despite how Reo seemingly turned his back on him, Nagi doesn't want to give up on what made them partners. To him, soccer never stopped being something they shared (to a fault). That's why, I think, when they make up, a big part of their reconciliation is going back to sharing a dream. This time, with Reo helping Nagi out instead of the other way around. And I'm saying that's a flaw because his subconscious need to seek answers and help from others made it so that whenever he's alone, he doesn't have a very defined idea of how to move forward. But again, a striker should be self-reliant, and have the capacity to evolve on his own even as the match is unfolding. But Nagi didn't even believe in himself until Reo convinced him he was special, so how can Nagi have the right mindset to seize his protagonism?

Similarly, Reo’s drive is also not based on anything inherent. From the start, he doesn’t believe he was “chosen by football” the way geniuses like Nagi and Rin are. Because of this, he never bought into Ego’s striker philosophy, nor has he been a very fitting candidate for it yet. Much like with Nagi, his set up as someone willing to step away from the spotlight positions him in defiance of the story’s themes. While Nagi has the talent and instinct to become a powerhouse but lacks conviction, Reo is a born leader outside of the facility, but within blue lock’s rules he can only make it to the U-20 bench, and so far no further.

The point here is that Reo’s readiness to be Nagi’s crutch is lowkey framed as a voluntary burden he places on his potential growth, a fact that the narrative condemns.

Reo was born for success—bred and raised with every luxury to make sure he'd step into his father's shoes and be one of Japan's wealthiest and most capable businessmen. And Reo takes obvious pride in his social status, too. We can see it in the flaunted wealth of his spending and daily habits, as well as in the way he interacts with his peers. He funds his Hakuho soccer team and easily seizes captainship. Blue lock teams don't have captains, but he still rises to a similar position even within an environment designated to promote violent competitiveness and a wolf-eat-wolf mentality. Heck, he asks Nagi to call him "boss" and demands Zantetsu recognizes him as "super elite". Pride in being the best and excelling at everything he does is written into Reo's code.

Yet, the moment Ego suggests that there is no such thing as cooperation within his training program, Reo is quick to bargain—take him, he’s the real star. I will tag along and ensure his success.

Ever the businessman, right? Problem is, renouncing his pride for someone else is the opposite of the attitude he should have. Same as Nagi, Reo puts a lot of weight on their shared dream. Too much weight. Somewhere along the line, “I want the World Cup” became “If Nagi’s at my side, we will win the World Cup”. Being partners until the end became so entangled with Reo’s dream that he can no longer separate the two. When Nagi leaves, Reo’s image of that finishing line crumbles. Iirc, he doesn’t even mention the World Cup as his goal anymore until Nagi comes back to him. When asked to put into words what he wants to achieve with his soccer, Reo tells Chris that he wants to go after goals alone. It’s only later, when Chris questions what happened to his solitary resolve in the wake of Reo’s restored friendship with Nagi, that Reo is like “well, my actual dream was the World Cup anyway, so this still counts.”

That is both true and a deflection from the truth. Yes, Reo’s real goal has always been the cup… but he also subconsciously sees it as something inseparable from his promise with Nagi. He can’t have one without the other. Or he thinks he can’t, is the point. Partly because of that, and partly because Nagi is his best friend, Reo is very resistant to Agi’s criticism. The story’s trying to nudge Reo towards personal growth, telling him that the only way out of this impasse is to quit what isn’t working. However, because Reo’s meant to resist the themes of the story, the choices he makes are rarely the right ones. That is, the choices a real egoist would make in his place.

This isn’t anything recent, by the way. For this same reason, for example, winning Nagi's trust back becomes his main motivation to survive past the loss in the 3v3. By his own admission, Reo is the only guy in blue lock who not only has a safety net outside the program, but a very comfortable life to fall back on if a career in football doesn't work out for him. But when push comes to shove and he faces the chance of dropping out, Reo resolves to improve by thinking of Nagi and their shared dream.

Let’s compare that to Barou, who was similarly broken down and had to crawl his way up again. Barou goes the egoist way and finds his resolve within himself, vowing to double down on his king shtick and devour Isagi back. To Barou, the simple idea of passing a ball is akin to defeat. When he envisions a future of normalcy, with football as something to only watch on tv, Barou’s hunger to reign the field like a king rears its head again and motivates him forward. Reo, instead, never reaches a point where he embraces the series’ trademark selfishness. In fact, he does the opposite. When he vows to step up his game, he doesn’t do it because he thinks he’s the top dog like everyone else. The root of his despair is not a wounded pride, or a desire to prove himself further, to “devour” others back and rise to the top, but just the loss of his fix against boredom. Remember, chasing an exciting life is both Reo and Nagi’s main motivator so far. To put it simply, Reo doesn’t want what awaits him outside of blue lock.

That’s the seed of his actual ego, by the way. Not the Cup, not making Nagi the best, but rather obtaining something by his own merit. But because of his reliance on Nagi (and Nagi’s on his), Reo hasn’t yet reached the point where he can realize this and use the knowledge to better his plays. In that sense, their partnership holds both of them back from exploring their inner motivations and individual strengths further.

And I said that this is instrumental to the kind of story Kaneshiro’s telling because it’s meant to show us all the ways a striker can’t be. This is not a manga where the power of friendship will get you anywhere. No matter how stubborn you get about having it your way, obstacles will materialize in your path and set you back the longer you refuse to play for your own sake.

Yet, Reo doesn't want to advance in the program for the sake of becoming the world's best striker. He never did. He wants to move forward because Nagi left first, and he wants to meet him on the other side (quote, "beyond our dreams"). In other words, to return to being friends, even if he fears that Nagi might've replaced him with Isagi and "forgotten" about him. It doesn't have anything to do with soccer per se. It's more like Reo sees soccer as his chosen tool for self-determination. It was the trial to prove to himself, as well as his father, that his "worth" wasn't handed down to him by circumstance, but was inherent. He could achieve something worthwhile thanks to hard work, and not just reap the benefits of his last name.

And the thing is…If he were literally anyone else, at this point he would’ve already channeled that into individualism, but because it’s Reo, he doesn’t. Despite possessing that seed of egoism, Reo doesn’t water it. His ambition doesn't make him an egoist in the way Ego Jinpachi intended, but instead becomes something that's meant to be carried by two people, contradicting the story.

Reo’s resolve is then always a bit off from falling in line with the rules of blue lock. Even when he gets something right, he does it for the wrong reasons, stumping his development. For example, his resolve after the 3v3 is both a step forward and two steps back. The positive is that he "engraved despair". He faced his shortcomings, realized his powerlessness, and took measures to improve to avoid being left in the dust again. The negative part is that being on his own should've given Reo a taste for real egoism, a hunger for self-reliance, but it does the opposite instead: it makes him long for what he had, and put all his willpower into restoring that partnership however he can. If the issue was that Nagi's improved enough to no longer be satisfied by the level of Reo's plays, then Reo's solution is to make his soccer exciting again in Nagi's eyes to, quote, "be enough to satisfy" him.

Because of that, however, the moment he has Nagi's trust back, their partnership back, Reo pretty much stops trying to improve. His chameleon style is still a go, but it becomes yet another tool to assist in Nagi's goals. It didn't start that way.

Initially, it was what Reo intended to use to score alone, remember?

Yet, even after coming up with a style that's solely his, that focuses on his strengths and brings no value to Nagi's, Reo keeps committing to stagnancy. In different but similar ways, both do.

Teamwork and passive codependence are the two things Ego asked all the blue lockers to leave behind, but Nagi and Reo make it their job to bring typical shonen manga dynamics into a series that sets out to break from the norm. And that’s the point!

In this sense, Reo is more at fault than Nagi, who instead realizes that sometimes being apart makes you better, and doesn’t mean the end of your friendship. If I were to pin down Nagi’s role in the narrative, then I’d say he’s meant to show that talent doesn’t equal success without discipline, self-awareness and determination. So the world’s best striker can’t just be good. He needs to know what he’s doing, and when and where he can do it to make the most of every play, since nothing happens by chance on the field. Whereas Reo’s role is that of showing us the mindset of a real striker. Because Reo enters the program without accepting or even understanding Ego’s rules, Reo’s faulty beliefs get challenged at every turn, with the author basically spoonfeeding us the correct path to soccer stardom.

So in the end, since they struggle so much to even understand what they should be doing, their fumbling around makes it so the story goes more into depth about its own themes. Their job is to be incompetent, basically, but in a way that doesn’t rule out eventual growth. They just need to come to terms with the rules of the competition they entered first. So far, they’ve been content to just live in a bubble and coast through the increased stakes of the selection. If they’re serious about their dreams, however (and we’ve established that they are!), they will have to make a choice between what’s comfortable and what’s necessary. Cause, to quote Ego from epinagi chapter 2, in blue lock there’s no place for self-conscious babies who don’t want to ever get their feelings hurt.

So what will they choose? Each other again, or the only way they can make it past blue lock and thus actually chase their dreams?

#Blue lock #Blue lock spoilers #Nagi seishirou #Mikage reo #Seishiro nagi #Reo mikage #Bllk thoughts #And here it is! Sorry for the wall of text. I might go back on this and add more pictures later but rn I'm toast #I need to get this out or else I'll add 4k more lol #I am very normal about those two yes #Nagireo #Reonagi

139 notes · View notes

oh-there-she-goes · 2 months

Text

Batman #145 (preview)

It infuriates me how Zdarsky kept having his Joker refer to Zur en Arrh as the real you or the true Batman. I understand there are many ways to write a character such as Joker, but to have him regard the OG Batman, who in part made him, as a second best to Zur, whom he had only met twice in his entire career, is so...jarring.

I sure damn hope Zdarsky was still cooking and intentionally having Joker spouting nonsense to mess with Batman here because God forbid if Joker was truly being sincere, it would taint all the history between him and Batman in the past decades, turning their dynamics lukewarm if not deploringly lackluster.

And why would Joker care to break the like of Zur in the first place? As formidable as he may, what's so sacred about Zur that needs defiling?

His swift execution of justice? Disproportionate uses of violence? Or his unadulterated brutality? Were these the qualities that left the Joker so enamoured?

One may say it's only natural that Joker would want to unleash his chaos upon Zur, who thinks himself a personification of control and order. But even considering his extreme measures, Zur has never stood against Joker at his core in the ways that Batman has.

In a world where nothing matters, Batman swoops in and fights him by trying to give meaning to everything. And he saves Joker, too, because he believes all lives are worth saving. And that's why Joker is determined to break him. He needs Batman to be wrong.

But what about Zur? Zur is just another man in power. He's dangerously competent, but he upholds no sanctimonious codes. They fight because they have different goals, but there's nothing inherently personal. Joker would not mourn the loss of Zur, and Zur would never feel the weight of guilt from refusing to let his monster bleed to death.

Then again, it might simply be my fault that I lack media literacy. Perhaps it has been Zdarsky's intention all along that Joker was lying. Maybe Joker elevating Zur to such esteem was just a part of his plan to push Bruce to ascension?

On a not-so-unrelated note, as there are many references to Scott Snyder's work in this run, I can't help chewing on how Zdarsky and Snyder differ in their interpretations of Joker.

While Snyder's Joker made it clear that he only cared about Batman and not Bruce, he had never wished for Batman to forgo his humanity.

The most Joker demanded of Batman was to get rid of the family that burdened him (which, funnily enough, Zur agreed). But his resentment stemmed from loneliness and jealousy.

In his heart of hearts, Joker knew they could continue their dance because Batman let it be so, hence the belief that his feelings towards Batman were reciprocated.

Joker even came to admit at one point that he no longer wanted to see Batman broken. What he wanted was for neither of them to win.

The Batman Who Laughs #4 (2019)

And unless something akin to 'Last Knight on Earth' happened, I see this as their dynamic in later years until either (or both) of them perished (which is unlikely to be soon as they both refused to let the other die).

Therefore, this Joker would never want Zur to enter the picture as it had been shown time and time again that when met with the more brutal, more...radical Batman(s), he always chose to side with the Batman who stayed humane.

Like when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, Joker is in love with Batman who refuses to change.

Batman: Last Knight on Earth #3 (2019)

The True Batman, for him, was the Batman who could withstand any test Joker and the world threw at him and remained the same.

Well..., who would like to keep dancing with a man who wouldn't dive from the top of the building after you anyway?

Still, I want so bad to be wrong about Zdarsky. I hope he has plans for them more than he lets on. (T w T)

#batjokes #joker #batman #zur en arrh #more rant than meta?

122 notes · View notes

kairiscorner · 8 months

Note

Maybe cutesy housewife who plays tennis or a ballerina who invites the the whole spider verse to her very important residual? ( reader x miguel gif both ideas ) 😊

-` ♡ ´- fifteen-love, all my love. — miguel o'hara x tennis player!wife reader

author's note: ok so idk shit about tennis, all ik is that they say 'love', i hope this is any good though !! it is clear my nerd ass is a homebody 😭😭😭

whenever you tie your hair up when you begin to play, miguel always stops to stare at you do it. there's no logical reason as to why he does, his gaze just lingers a while longer than when he catches a glimpse of you and he happens to end up staring at your hair done up in a pretty and simple updo, your lovely neck being exposed and all, making him want to litter down the length of it with lovebites and hickeys from him so everyone knows you're his darling housewife.

miguel loves seeing you wear that tennis skirt you darned and styled up to be more practical and look all so lovely in at the same time. he can't get over how it makes you look so adorable and professional all at the same time.

+ miguel gently smacks your butt and palms it sometimes, he always whispers in your ear if you'd let him do it, though.

every time miguel drops you off to your tennis practices, he always escorts you there personally, in a gentlemanly way that never gets old. you get all flustered whenever he does it, and he feels himself melting under the warmth of your gentle gaze whenever you look up at him and thank him for walking you there, feeling embarrassed that your teammates and friends are watching your husband act all sweet towards you.

he loves it whenever you whisper in his ear all adorably—getting on the tips of your toes to whisper your thanks in his ear, your plush lips brushing over his ear when you do so—only making miguel want to pull you in close and kiss you repeatedly, all lovingly, because how could he not share all his love for his darling little wife?

he doesn't wanna leave you, he'd gladly stay and watch you practice, but duty calls for him; now all miguel wants to do is shower you with so much love and adoration right now through his touches and kisses, not caring what your teammates thought of you two because he can't help but miss you dearly when he's away from you.

when you teach miguel how to play tennis, you get behind him and wrap your smaller, gentler arms around his own bigger and more toned ones—feeling over his hands that are tightly clutching the racket, whose clutching is only getting more and more tight as he feels your soft little hands on his, and as you give him instructions on how to serve... he intentionally messes up so you have to keep holding him like this over, and over, and over again.

if you ever got catcalled by some other players on the field and miguel was there to watch you, he'd personally climb all the way down from the bleachers and confront those assholes. he doesn't care if they didn't know you were married, that you were his wife, he wouldn't stand for you getting catcalled and feeling uncomfortable around people with such lack of respect and decorum for a lovely little lady like you who he loves so, so much.

whenever you win a competition or a tournament, miguel wraps you up in a hug in his arms and hugs you tightly—peppering your lovely face with kisses, praising and complimenting you for working so, so hard—and promising to reward you, make dinner for you or take you out wherever you wanna go, treat you all night long to some sweet loving, loving he's been longing to give you but was too busy until now to finally give all of himself to you, his dearest, talented, hardworking, and cutesy little housewife.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv fluff #atsv fanfiction #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse fanfiction

188 notes · View notes

vidavalor · 4 months

Text

Banana. Fruit. Plant. Food. Sustains life for animals and humans alike. "And what are they putting in bananas these days?!" First of Aziraphale's magic words. Symbolic of plant life on Earth.

Fish. The ocean. Oysters. Sushi. "Why do you eat *that*?"/"It's what humans do." "Bouilla...bouilla...bouilla... baby... fish stew. Anyway!" Symbolic of marine life on Earth. Love. Sex. He probably wins prizes for his tropical fish.

Gorilla. Also: Go-RILL-a, if you're Mr. Harmony. Animals. Ancient ancestors of humanity. Big fans of bananas; do not typically eat fish. (Rill. A small stream. Carries fish. Represents water, necessary to all life on Earth.) Gorillas represent the animal kingdom, the connection between animals and humans, and the interdependency of Earth's ecosystem. Earth is a balance of banana (plant life), fish (marine life), gorilla (animal life) and...

Shoelace. Humanity. First word in the sequence of Aziraphale's magic words that isn't a type of living thing but is, instead, an invention of the living thing it represents. Humanity is defined in Aziraphale's magic words by its bipedalism and its innovation-- by its ability to create, develop and use tools to improve its existence... but then also by their ability to keep refining, to keep trying, to keep progressing. Humans walk on two legs and created tools and created shoes to support that endeavor and then the shoelace to make the shoes better. Have you found the missing antichrist's name, age and shoe size yet? Humans walk-- they go ever forward, even if they sometimes go backwards. They are defined by their creativity and imagination and the determination to keep progressing. They create art and so they get a word full of symbolism because of their ability to make art and seek meaning and ask questions. Aziraphale loves them so.

(with a) Dash of Nutmeg. Civilization and evolution. Nutmeg comes from the nutmeg tree, in a full circle back to plant life. Dash of nutmeg is then the world created by these creative shoelaces. An ever-growing and changing world, full of refinement of and appreciation for life on Earth. A dash of nutmeg is learning and experimentation. Figuring out the right amount. Just a dash of nutmeg can change the whole taste of a dish and bring it to the next level. No nutmeg in a dish that needs it-- or too much? Not the same. No almond syrup where it's needed-- or too much? Not the same, maybe even a bit dangerous. To know that is to learn it... and to learn it is to either experiment yourself and/or to learn from the experience of humans. Aziraphale's love of being a student of humanity through the ages. Reading their books, absorbing their music and theatre. Letting them teach him French and magic and about food and love. A dash of nutmeg is literally the spice of life. To eat the right dish with just a dash of nutmeg is to experience the joy of life on Earth-- to experience pleasure from consuming the fruits of the Earth. It's living. It's to eat life alive.

A hefty jigger. Doesn't exist. A jigger is precise, is quantifiable; a dash is a flick of the wrist and is less precise, more improvisational, just enough. You cannot have a hefty jigger. You can, though, always have a dash. See: nutmeg. See: almond syrup, as Nina pours into Aziraphale's coffee usual coffee order, as ordered by The Metatron. If you say 'dash' when you order in the shop but 'hefty jigger' when you deliver to your mark, you're wanting to look like a savvy, old man to the barista to get the order right... but you're intentionally attempting to look clueless to Aziraphale, to make him think he'll be needed to help you navigate humanity. It means you do know how to order coffee but you are pretending you do not to the person you are trying to manipulate. It means you're a liar.

A jigger is measured by shots. By the shot is one way you can order coffee. Coffee is freedom. Give me coffee or give me death. Give me liberty or give me death. Does anybody ever ask for death? Some wise-cracking asshole has to ask Nina for it at least once a week but she says no when The Metatron asks because no one ever *really* asks for death. Not seriously. Not as anything but a joke. They all ask for their beverage of choice. They all ask for freedom or comfort or pleasure or all of the above. Wanting to live is predictable to our villain but it's understandable to the rest of us. Living on this magical Earth can be a lot at times but it also is the most amazing thing imaginable.

No one knows that better than Crowley, who spans the gamut of coffee orders (among other beverages). Dessert coffee-- espresso, cream, maybe some alcohol-- in a small, Irish-coffee-style mug in 1.01 during a lazy afternoon lunch but also, on a stressful morning, this...

Mr. Six Shots of Espresso in a Big Cup. Crowley. But only sometimes. And not really. Not when we know him better than Nina does. Not when we've seen him twice order his symbolic liberty at a slower pace and cut it with some sweetness along the way. Not when The Bentley in S2 showed us that he drives fast, he pounds espresso, and it's all anxiety. Mr. Six Shots of Espresso in a Big Cup really wants to drive 52 miles an hour, per The Bentley, and slowly sip half a fluffy dessert coffee at lunch at The Ritz with Aziraphale. Crowley wants everyone to see him as Mr. Six Shots of Espresso in a Big Cup but he's not. He's...

Crowley. Bildad the Shuite.

Bildad. Means, quite literally, "old friend," as Sitis' mind translated upon his request. Aziraphale's oldest friend. Humanity's oldest friend. Also means "loved by the Lord." He's And the Voice of Frances McDormand's favorite, if only They'd put him out of his misery and share that. the Shuite. Means, as Michael points out, "from the land of Shua" but Michael doesn't really fully get it. It is not where you are from; it is not what kind of species you are. It is not what you "are", whatever that even is. Heaven, Hell, angels, demons, it's all... pointless, as Crowley tells Shax in 2.01. Bildad does not define Shuite as a place-related name; he does not define humanity as tied to beings of a specific region or to a species, even, really. Humanity is not the exclusive domain of people of any one race or ethnicity or religion or species. Being a Shuite isn't where you're from or if you are human only or if you have a human corporation but others call you an angel or a demon... Bildad defines Shuite as what you do or what you are learning how to do. He defines being a Shuite as how you're interacting with the world on Earth and how you are spending your days. Being a Shuite is something you *do* and freedom is the choice of what that is, which some unfortunately have more than others. What does Bildad *do* then, as *the* Shuite?

Bildad the Shuite. Professional midwife/cobbler. The demon who delivered humanity from The Garden of Eden, and who now lives among them, working hard as a professional shoemaker, helping them forward and letting them teach him just as much.

A shoelace. A human.

And like the rest of us, he's making this shit up as he goes. Nothing more human than that, really.

Banana, fish, gorilla, shoelace, with a dash of nutmeg. Aziraphale's magic words. His mantra. The only full prayer we've ever really heard him say. His history of Earth as he's observed and lived it with Bildad the Shuite for thousands of years. The words mostly work when he needs them to but sometimes they fail and that's okay. As a certain angel excited to be on Earth once said while pretending to be a human in the bookshop, the error they made just then proved they were human. It did, indeed, even if Muriel doesn't quite yet understand just how human they are.

Nazis. Fascist motherfuckers who seek to suppress free thought and oppress others through dehumanizing violence. Can be expert lip readers. Can be multilingual. Can understand language on a technical, surface level that makes their inability to understand context very darkly funny. I am played for a sucker. You are played for a sucker. He, she, it are played for suckers... Dangerous as all hell in their willful ignorance, their lack of critical thinking and their complete lack of empathy.

Zombies. Those who are asleep to their surroundings. Those who do not seek to understand context and dive for deeper meaning. Those who do not engage with art (and, if they're Nazis, those who seek to suppress it.) Those who are full of apathy. Those who do not question. Those who think like how others tell them to think. Those who are content with surface understanding, not deeper meaning.

Flesheaters. Zombies-- in the horror movie sense. Those with a bloodlust for brains. Those who murder with impunity to satisfy a violent, dark hunger. Those with dark impulses that harm others; the polar opposites of hungering for pleasure from food, art, sex, love, companionship. The thematic opposites of Crowley and Aziraphale.

Nazi Zombie Flesheaters. Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt, Mr. Harmony and Mr. Glozier. Multilingual members of the Nazi Party, one of whom is an expert lip reader. They are zombies, as shown by how they lack the imagination, intellectual curiosity, critical thinking skills, and creativity to be able to decode the deeper meaning of the surface words they read and recite correctly but do not actually comprehend. They do not seek to understand how a creative magic trick is being performed before their eyes because they fail to even notice that one is, even when presented with an abundance of contextual clues. They're also, in their cases, flesheaters. They roam around London eating innocent, free-thinking brains-- quite literally suppressing thought. In The Blitz, Part 1, they were already Nazi Zombies. In The Blitz, Part 2, they become the Nazi Zombie Flesheaters.

Jiggery-pokery. Cutesy-sounding British phrase with a darker origin. Means 'trickery'. Means 'deceit'. Not in an innocent way, like the sleight of hand deception of a magic show... or the sleight-of-hand tricks played by writers and performers on a television show with recurring motifs around spies and magic and wordplay and hidden romance and a whole secret language imbedded in its dialogue. Origin of jiggery-pokery: British Army, mid-1800s. Used to refer to homosexual sex acts, then illegal, amongst soldiers in its ranks when targeting them. Evolved a bit in modern times to a lighter-sounding term meaning cute trickery but still equally refers in definition to gay sex, conducted in secret, and by those who are then threatened with exposure by other soldiers who feel homosexuality goes against the morals of the unit. Used onstage by The Marvelous Mr. Fell to describe his complicated relationship with human magic, which metaphorical for his own humanity, in contrast with his role as one of God's soldiers, a moment before his partner gets on stage to perform some of that humanity with him. It is not performative, though, because humanity is not exclusive to humans; humanity is to be a Shuite and love is love. In the audience: a soldier from Bildad's unit and the Nazi Zombie Flesheaters, working in tandem to out Crowley and Aziraphale for what is, to Furfur and the Nazis, supernatural and actual jiggery-pokery.

Three cowry shells and a lone caraway seed. A sleight of hand magic trick, used by writers to point out multiple layers of meaning and a request of the audience to engage with the story and find the seed beneath the layers. A sleight hand of magic trick, used by The Marvelous Mr. Fell thousands of years prior in his exploration of human magic. He fooled ancient Egyptian Queen Nefertiti with the trick. He masks the lone caraway seed successfully beneath a different cowry shell than the one the humans watching him think it is hidden beneath. He hides one meaning beneath another. He hides his self-deemed jiggery-pokery humanity beneath what Heaven suspects of him as an angel.

My Nefertiti-fooling fellow. What The Marvelous Mr. Fell's love, Bildad the Shuite, calls him to he remind him that his humanity is not jiggery-pokery. His magical man, who is also kind of terrible at the actual human magic part, but is so very good at the human magic part, and what could be more human than that?

Dummkopf. What Greta calls Harmony, after he successfully reads Aziraphale's magic words but she interprets them as nonsense words... despite them all seeing through the windows Aziraphale moving in such a way as to suggest he is performing a magic trick, suggesting a potential context for the words. None of these three have what the creative minds involved in Good Omens know their audience does have, which is the curiosity and love of story enough to look for context and meaning. 'Dummkopf': German for 'dumbass'.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziracrow

95 notes · View notes

shittalkcornstalk · 6 months

Text

“Take One For The Team”

Part 3

Synopsis- After another week of successfully placating Buggy the Clown, you start seeing him in a new light. You unassuredness on these feelings leads you to take some one on one time with him, maybe that’ll clear your mind, or just make things worse…

A/n: This chapter is longer than the previous ones since it was the first chapter I wrote after sharing the first one! I am still figuring out the order of how I want certain events to play out, but I have a few scenes/plot points figured out. This chapter is nothing but fluff. Any comments on missing tags is appreciated!

Warnings- xfemreader!, Use of Y/n, 18+ minor dni, Eventual Smut, mild manipulation on both your parts at h this point, alcohol use, weapons mention, age gap mention

Word Count- 3.8k

Chapter 3 “A Change In Course”

Your pretty outfits continued, as well as Buggy’s new style of flirting. Every so often you were pulled into his gaze and words trapping you in moments that felt more and more intense. He got very good at making you lose yourself for a moment only to pull you back out and act like nothing happened. Comments were often in passing but they still made you go blank. It became very clear you were stepping into uncharted waters, but life had never been better. Buggy may have been a mean Captain, but he could be just as fun and exciting. The last week had been nothing but fun, as the crew lavished in drinks and music in the nights as you docked onto a small town. Whenever you all trained he watched over you all with an encouraging support rallying you all to his cause. It made you believe he actually wanted you all to succeed by his side. It was kind of cute seeing him so passionate about all of you. And that’s where the problem arose. You found yourself calling him cute in your head, genuinely giggling at his jokes at dinner, and maybe even enjoying his lingering eyes. Shit shit shit. You are not developing a crush on him, not at all, you can’t.

You meet up with the “Keep Buggy Happy” team a couple times a week to go over plans and celebrate your continued success. Lately though you find yourself drinking heavier than usual as the two men discuss your recent attempts at winning the Captain over.

“You’ve really upped your game y/n you look like you're flirting with him so effortlessly-“ Moji commends you.

You aren’t doing much of anything intentionally anymore, other than the outfits, all the giggles and blushing is all too real. Cabaji and Moji haven’t noticed you’ve been slipping on your act, but a very observant woman is well aware.

“Yesssss she’s been doing such a good job -faking- all those reactions, haven’t you y/n.” She chuckles to herself and takes a swig.

“ Well it helps he’s an easy target and this liquor makes things a lot easier” You take a sip from your glass and appreciate the nicer richer flavors of the liquor selection that Alvida has permitted you to take from. The stuff in there is only really allowed to be drunk by her and…

She leans in to whisper in your ears suddenly.

“You know that’s Captains personal favorite~”

Your breath hitches , maybe it’s the alcohol hitting your system but your body gets warmer. You’ve smelt this drink on his breath before whenever he leaned in to whisper his advancements in your ear. As the drink hits your tongue you can only imagine him drinking it. The way his mouth must taste like this after a night out… You immediately start feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Alvida laughs at your reaction and pats you on the back taking you out of your intrusive thoughts.

“Well it seems our honeypot is doing just fine at her job without your input, why don’t you boys give us some time alone. On a ship full of men us girls rarely get time for girl talk” She waves them away. Alvida had never been this chummy with you before, but based off of that last line you were expecting more teasing to come your way. Cabaji and Moji left and she leaned into you closer.

“You little slut, you really like him don’t you-“ She laughed at your expense as you droop your head down.

“I don’t know, maybe…” You really weren’t sure. All this attention from him was getting to your head. You’d seen a slightly different version of Buggy this past week, and this one wasn’t totally reprehensible.

She sighed at your apprehension. “Listen, why don’t you take advantage of us docking in town tonight. I was supposed to run some errands with the clown tomorrow , but I can send you instead, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the company. It’ll give you some time to clear your head and get to see him out of the context of Captain a bit. Maybe it’ll help you figure out some of this confusion.”

You took a swig of your drink and took a deep breath considering your options. You hadn’t had a lot of alone time with Buggy before, maybe this would make you realize this silly crush was just a phase.

“Ok I’ll give it a go”

The next day you got ready without Alvida. You took the time to take care of your appearance but you opted for a more relaxed outfit. You didn’t want to work him up if he was gonna spend an entire afternoon with you. Heading to the docks you met up outside with Buggy. He grumbled looking at a small paper with a list of supplies for the ship, adding a couple of things with a small pencil he tucked into his hat. You tapped him on the shoulder as he concentrated on the sheet.

“Captain Buggy? Alvida told me you needed help shopping today and sent me to find you.”

Buggy turned around fast and crumbled the paper in his hands as he was shocked to see you.

“Gah! You scared me y/n. Sneaking up on your Captain like that is how you get a knife to the throat-“ His chest puffed as his breath quickened, you noticed his limbs had detached at the joints only a smidge. He was always so reactive like that, always on edge, but you’d imagine you’d be too if you were a wanted pirate captain. You pat him on the shoulders giggling at the response, hearing the subtle noise of his limbs reattaching.

“I’ll keep that in mind- now what did you need to do in this town anyway?”

“Well Alvida and I were supposed to pick up some food rations for the ship and ammo before we headed out, this will be the last town for a while so we’re docking here until we’re fully set. I needed to order stuff now and I was hoping Alvida could keep track of todays shopping for when we needed to load the cargo, but you’ll do fine-“

Most of the time Buggy had been either ordering you around or flirting with you, you weren’t used to seeing him this calmly professional. You obliged and followed him around doing this busy work, after all you were one of his crew. You kind of forgot he was your boss sometimes. You made your way to the food markets where Buggy pulled a knife on a butcher who noticeably tried to upcharge him on meat. You never took notice of how much money it took to keep the ship well fed, it made your portion sizes seem more significant. After the food market, Buggy rushed over to the ammo shop he’d marked out on a little map of the town you were in. He was so giddy to restock on his favorite items, he didn’t realize he gripped your wrist to pull you faster to your destination.

“You’re gonna love this y/n” He spoke so excitedly rushing through the crowded streets not letting go.

His eyes lit up at seeing the selection this shop had. He pointed out the bombs he inspired his own Buggy Balls after and the tiny cherry bombs he practiced with as a kid. He pulled up to the clerk to talk shop with him and you browsed the selection as he negotiated. You took your time looking at a small gun that sat under glass. It was a cute little revolver with a bright red handle. You’d dabble with guns before but always stuck to more hand to hand combat. The bright red was eye-catching, certainly flashy enough to be a weapon for a Buggy pirate.

You hear the shop clerk and Buggy make some joke only two weapons experts would get. They get a bit louder as the joking continues when you hear a deal being made.

“I’ll give you the lot for a discount, and I’ll throw in the cherry revolver your little girlfriend keeps eyeing up-“

You immediately turn your head away to keep Buggy from seeing how the little misunderstanding made you feel. Buggy laughs it off and shakes the man’s hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal!” He turns to you. “Can’t go wrong with a little added self defense, right doll?” He played into the clerk’s perception and watched as you shifted your head back to respond, seeing if you’ll take the bait and play into the role.

“Yeah… of course babe-“ You are flustered but want to keep on the clerks good side, he was giving you quite the deal after all.

It takes a little longer than expected for Buggy to finish off the transaction and shopkeep left the room for a moment with your new pistol. You both leave the store and you take note of the added inventory the ship will be taking in. Buggy watched you fill out the form waiting for the silent concentration to break so he could tease you about what just happened. You place the papers in your bag and he hands you a nice leather box.

“Anything for my girlfriend-“ He teased you, really emphasizing the last word. You open it and as expected it was the gun, what you weren’t expecting was his name engraved on the handle in a swirly font.

“Just letting the people you plan to shoot with that thing, just who your captain is-“

He’d held off on any greater advancements early today, but after that little scene in the store he couldn’t keep himself from being assertive.

“You did such a great job as my little helper today, why don’t we get some lunch before doing the rest of the day’s itinerary, my treat-“ He grinned at you as you still inspected your new weapon, now branded with his identity.

You nodded and walked with him to a fairly nice seaside restaurant. Now you two were alone with each other truly, no distractions or store workers to keep you from really talking. He ordered a drink and you followed suit, hoping to get some liquid courage as he leered at you. When it hit the table you gulped it down rather quickly, he noticed.

“Are you thirsty doll? You could always order another if you want-“ He looked at you humming before taking a long sip of his drink, taking it all down at once as you see his throat bob. “In fact let’s both get another round, we deserve to loosen up a bit don’t we?” He chuckles and signs to the waiter to bring two more to the table. It takes all your courage to break the silence, but you finally pipe up.

“So what does the rest of the day have in store for us Captain Buggy? More shopping I assume-“

“Captain Buggy…I thought I was babe now?” He laughed at you and your face tightened. “Take a joke sweets, I just thought it was funny that guy thought a girl like you would be seen with a guy like me-“ He waves his hands over himself taking a little too much time around his face, specifically his nose.

“Oh Captain I don’t see it that way, it was just a little awkward ya know? Since you're my boss and all? I just played along so we could get that discount he was talking about-“ Even if this little crush was a phase, it was kind of disheartening to hear Buggy talk about himself like that. You never noticed how self deprecating he could be. He wasn’t unattractive and you certainly wouldn’t be embarrassed if more people thought you were his- now you were digging yourself in a hole… luckily he broke you out.

“Yeah well it was nice to get to talk about my speciality with someone, as for the rest of the day we mainly need to pick up smaller items. Stuff we won’t have to worry about having the crew load onto the ship. I need to pick up more map making supplies, Alvida requested more liquor as it seems it’s been running out faster, and we’ll need a bit more medical supplies.” You never realized how much Buggy was really in control of. He had a moderate crew but his inclination to hire ‘freaks’ left him with a lot of fighters, but not a lot of specialists. You wish you could lighten the load for him, but you weren’t hired for any special talents either.

“Wow that’s a lot to keep track of, I don’t know how you do it Buggy-“ You looked down at your drink swirling the tiny straw. You didn’t mean too but you did two things that rang in Buggy’s ears like wedding bells. You stroked his ego so subtly, praising him for his underappreciated efforts, and for the first time you called him by just his first name. He liked how casually you saw him in the moment. It made his cheeks flush, maybe he was closer than he thought.

“We’ll it’s always nice to be appreciated- but it helps a lot to have a crew like you… you all..” He coughs out the last words, to make it seem impersonal.

Before you knew it the food came out and you two shared stories about your lives. Buggy told about his past like it was a performance but you noticed him skipping over a couple of ‘unimportant’ details. He mainly brushed over a straw hat character, but based on timing, you’d place the kid who stole his map a few months back was far too young to be the same person. He got so excited telling you about his adventures that you got lost in his words. He really had so much life experience, and even with the caveat that you were younger than him, you really hadn’t had any big adventures in your life, at least not till him. Buggy opened up the world to you with very little to go off on. And now you were sitting across from him as he told you about his life, things you never heard before from him. That kind of trust shouldn’t be taken lightly. You feel a warmth rush over you as you smile and giggle at all the little flourishes he does to make the story seem grander, to make it more entertaining for you, his only audience member. He really is one of a kind. As you look into his eyes you feel the pit in your stomach form you break your attention from him. You excuse yourself to the ladies room and feel the impending dread rush over you. You pull the gun from your pocket tracing your fingers on the engravement. You look up at your flushed face and it all falls together.

“Shit-“

You have a crush on Buggy the Clown.

You give yourself a light pat on the cheek to get yourself to focus. He’s out there, you know how he feels about you, and now you return those feelings. How the hell are you supposed to go about this day like normal? How can you look at the guy and watch him flirt without losing your cool? Does this count as a date? The errands before could be chocked up to just a Captain and crewmate running inventory, but now you two were alone at a restaurant sharing drinks and stories. Maybe the second drink wasn’t smart. You could feel your cheeks get flushed and your head spin. You wondered what Buggy was thinking out there, you didn’t want to have him wait too long but you couldn’t bear to leave the bathroom just yet.

Meanwhile Buggy leaned back in his chair, thumping his leg up and down anxiously. He called the waiter over and requested another drink, anything to calm him down. This entire time he’s been flipping between that cool guy exterior he so desperately wants you to fall for and the absolute loser he believes himself to be. He can’t believe he talked himself into pulling that engravement stunt in the weapons shop, but seeing you get all shy at the clerk’s miscommunication did something to him. He wanted to draw more of that embarrassment out of you no matter how direct he had to be. He wanted to see you flustered and skittish thinking about how cute it was when you played along with the game. He tried to clear the air later, a bit of self deprecation always saved him from getting hurt, but when you fought back even just a little at the notion you two didn’t make sense he was over the moon. He wanted that to mean so much more than just an off handed comment. Buggy wanted himself to not be a joke to you. While you were held up in the bathroom he fought between wanting you back in his sight and wishing you’d stay in just a little longer. He needed to compose himself if you were to finish the meal in one piece

Meanwhile you finally calmed down enough to go back to the table. If this was a date or just two people sharing a meal there was no real reason to make it awkward. Buggy looked at you walking back to the table and gulped down his drink. He’d made sure to have the previous glass removed so as far as you knew he’d been sipping on the second drink just like you. He was already worried about looking like a jackass, he couldn’t deal with being a drunk as well.

“So this is the last time we’ll be on land for a while right? We’re heading out to a big stretch of sea after we get done here-“ You recall seeing the plans spread out at dinner a day ago. You’d be out at sea for at least a month before you’d be docking again somewhere.

“Yeah if all goes according to plan. Now's the time to pick up anything you’ll need in the incoming weeks. We’ve been making good time so if you need to stop anywhere while we’re out today, just let me know. I’ll add it to the list.” He leaned back into professional talk as it seemed to be the only way to calm his nerves.

You thought patiently about if there really was anything you’d run low on. You were fine on clothes, though you wished Alvida hadn’t ransacked your closet. Nothing came to mind until you realized you were low on shower supplies.

“Oh I think I need more shampoo and conditioner- the stuff stocked in the bathroom is running dry-“

“Ah well I’ll see if there’s a store nearby that sells that kind of stuff- what were you looking for anyways-“ He didn’t want to let on that he’d known the exact brand and scent of hair care you used.

You absentmindedly forget yourself and slip out how much you know as you respond “oh whatever you usually pick out for me works-“

Buggy gawks at you. Who told you this information? As far as he was concerned he’d sneak it to your room and drop them off without your notice . He never let on that he’d personally bought all of your shower supplies, taking special care to pick fragrances he enjoyed smelling on you when he had those moments where he was just close enough to catch it in the air. He loved vanilla and musky woody smells on you, it reminded him of sweets and old ships. But nevertheless you clearly knew something, what was he supposed to say?

You pick up on this slip of the tongue, you gotta save this somehow- “Well you pick out all our supplies, right? I always assumed you bulk ordered them, I’m sure the others will need some supplies as well. Should I add it to the list for all of us?”

Buggy could afford to maintain a ship, but he couldn’t afford to pay for a crew's worth of fancy soaps. It wasn’t cheap keeping you smelling like that, to give everyone the same treatment would not only break his wallet, it would totally kill the mood of your scent if he started smelling it on Moji…the thought of that pissed him off. He thought today was going smooth enough so maybe he could let this one little secret slip.

“Actually those are just for you- you always had such nice hair, I thought it’d be a shame to ruin it with the rest of the crew’s 3 in 1 garbage-“ He mumbled it a bit. You already knew he’d been going out of his way for you, but him finally being honest with you, especially about why, made your heart flutter.

“Oh, um…thank you Buggy, I really appreciate that-“Curling your hair in your fingers, taking notice to feel just how soft it really was thanks to him. He really did want to give you nothing but the best.

“You know I should’ve guessed you’d be the one on the crew to know about hair maintenance-“ You laugh a little. “You’ve always done such a great job on your own, I couldn’t believe it was real when I first saw it.”

Buggy had once again failed a task successfully. You were blushing at him, playing with your hair, and giving him compliments. He’d become jelly in the knees. You spent the rest of the lunch continuing with stories. After the little heart attack both of you endured, the conversation was a bit more stilted and quiet, both of you a little too on edge to really perform for one another. You told Buggy about your youth and how you used to want to be a marine till you saw how corrupt the system was. It had only been since you heard about Buggy and a couple others that the idea of being a pirate even crossed your mind. Back then when you heard he was in town, you’d rush to see if you could join them before it was too late. Now your audition seems a little different in context to what you now know about Buggy, but you'll keep that part to yourself. You didn’t originally plan on staying with the crew for as long as you’ve been, but the crew became more than a means to an end, they became your friends. As you voice this to Buggy he smiles softly and nods.

“I’m glad you feel that way y/n, we are truly all happy to have you on the crew-“

The lunch ends and you head out for the rest of the days shopping.

#buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #op buggy #one piece #buggy x you

96 notes · View notes

julianalvarez9 · 1 year

Text

acting on it / martin ødegaard

author's note: been avoiding writing smut for this man for ages. i started this back when arsenal played liverpool so it's been A WHILE. not proofread bc i just needed to get it out quick. needless to say this isn't real, don't know the real reason why they took him out so yeah, fiction :)

warnings: smut with plot. badly translated norwegian pet names (?, kinda hair pulling, kinda choking, kinda public sex (they could get walked in anytime) ¿?

wc: 2k words

summary: suggesting to take martin out of the game to avoid any serious injury backfires when he blames you for being subbed off.

"why did you tell him to take me out?".

you knew this talk would be coming, but still, the loud thud when the norwegian shut the door a bit too hard startled you. the draw was rough for everyone at arsenal, and at some point, felt almost like a loss. the players got into the dressing room with their heads hung low after clapping for the fans, and apart from some encouraging pats on the back, you didn’t really get to talk to anyone in particular.

you saw how angry martin had left the pitch when arteta decided to take him off, but he hadn’t said anything: of course he hadn’t. he was a good captain, and he wouldn’t ever question the gaffer’s decisions. at least, not publicly.

but under the anger, he knew it was a good decision: he wasn’t asking for the ball and leading his team like he used to do at every game. like he was supposed to. he knew his performance was below average, but he refused to attribute it to the minor discomfort he had during the week. he was fine during warm ups and the entire first half. he couldn’t afford to get injured now, at this point.

being seated during the last ten minutes of the match was the worst thing for him. seeing how the win slipped through their fingers felt like a knife being turned on his stomach. and even if martin knew they still had the top position secured, the lead they had against city was cut short, and they hoped it wouldn’t be something they turned to regret at the end of the line.

martin was observant, not only off the pitch, but during games, too. he frequently saw the bench, awaiting for instructions offered by the manager or movement in the sidelines, signaling some players being subbed in. when he saw you, the team’s physio, talking to arteta, he knew he would be the player to be taken off.

“you were only meant to play 60 minutes, martin. you played 80,” you reasoned. before the game, you had been consulted how many minutes was the norwegian able to play, without risking an injury. knowing martin, you were sure that he wouldn't appreciate being subbed off if there was still a match being played, but you were aware that mikel was considering the bigger picture -there were still games that needed to be won, and it would be immensely more difficult if they were without the norwegian on the pitch. you understood arteta's worries about his key player being sidelined for way too long if he were to make the matters worse.

he wasn't happy with your response, but he didn't say anything else: he stayed in the way of the door, impeding the way out, whether intentionally or not, trapping you in the room with him. the frown is still visible on his features, glooming his usual prince charming looks for something darker, almost malicious. you think that he's maybe transported back to the game, reliving again and again what went wrong, and you try to ease his worries. "not everything is your fault, you know? you have to take care of yourself first”.

he scoffed. "i'm the captain. everything is my fault".

at this point, you've grown tired. all you want to do is finish packing your things, and get home as fast as possible. but the presence of the norwegian is stopping you from completing the checklist you have in hand. "what do you want me to do, ødegaard? i’m doing my job, which is to keep you all healthy," you say, while finishing to check the last thing you had on the list, assuring that you aren't forgetting anything. you throw the little notepad to the desk, while sitting on the empty space, as martin watches your every movement like a hunter keeping track of his prey. "you can't play 90 minutes every three days: you need to rest, or you'll get a serious injury. if you have any problems with it, talk to arteta”.

you're mirroring the frown he had for the last five minutes, and martin can't stop thinking about how cute you look while trying to act mad at him. "quit the attitude. i'm supposed to be mad, not you".

now it's your turn to scoff. "you are making me mad by trying to take your frustrations on me, like i'm in the wrong for doing my fucking job".

"if you think this is me taking my frustrations on you-” his blue eyes turn almost dark gray, and martin takes big, rushed steps towards your figure, making his wider frame tower over yours. he lifts his hand, brushing a string of hair that had fallen from your makeshift ponytail behind your ear, and his hand rest softly on the side of your neck, with his palm surely covering half of your skin.

he looks for hesitation in your eyes, something that would tell him to back off, but he can't find any. instead, your breath is ragged, and you're trying really hard to keep eye contact with him while trying not to visibly shut your legs in a way that lets you ease some of the tension. "this would be me taking my frustrations on you," he corrects, now his thumb resting across your neck, restricting your airflow but just slightly.

you're not sure if you feel dizzy because this is what you wanted all along, ever since you've crossed paths with the norwegian, or due to how intoxicating you find his touch: either way, you gasp for air, and it has martin smiling wickedly, in a form you haven't really seen before. "oh, does my pretty girl like being choked?".

the whine you emit is, surely, pathetic, but it fires something inside of him. his grab on your neck is a bit rougher after hearing the sweetest sound he had only dreamed of hearing, but it’s not enough to worry you about the possible marks he could be leaving. still, you can feel it, just as you can feel the desk behind you that would not really leave you any space to escape, if you wanted to. but you don't want to, although you probably should remember where you're at, that you're working and he's a player.

the smallest glimpse of reality comes back to your senses when you hear a sort of commotion outside, and you're cut back from his spell, just barely. "martin, we-".

he hears the hesitation in your voice, and is quick to lure you back in, his kisses leaving a wet trail under his way. "i know we can't. and i know we don't have enough time. but i need this, i need you. will you let me?. the way he's whispering in your ear makes your skin flourish in goosebumps, joined by how he's nudging at your neck, while smelling your perfume, driving you mad. he realizes when the smallest whimper leaves your lips and is proud of his doing, showing by the way it oozes out of his mouth when he whispers "that's my good girl".

your hands are quick to find their way under his shirt, having the chance to feel the toned abs you've never dared to look at before while trying to keep up with the feverish kisses shared between you two. the second his mouth trails down to your collarbone, you slip a playful "eager, aren't we?" when you realize his hard on pressed against your leg. "could say the same about you," he bites back, after his leg graces your center and you're eager to rub yourself against it.

you two don’t even get to take your clothes fully before he slides into you. his right hand is covering your mouth, helping you in silencing the moans that seem impossible to contain, while he isn’t much better at keeping quiet. especially, when your hands are pulling on his blonde hair, driving him crazy. you’re coming undone under him, and martin can’t help but groan at the sight of you, a wreck for him, while taking him so well.

through his grunts, he can barely manage to warm "not gonna last long if you keep on squeezing me like that, kjaere," but it’s to no use, given that you’re still clenching on him tightly, your warm walls swallowing his length fully as he snaps his hips in and out of you in a relentless pace. the desk underneath you shakes with force, given that you’re perched against it while trying to stay on your feet.

it’s not long before your whole body is shaking under his frame, as his left hand lifts your leg up, now hugging him by his waist in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer. you let out another moan that gets muffled by the hand he still has over your mouth, and you’re grateful for it, because in your hazy mind filled with pleasure, you can’t mute your sounds as your orgasm approaches.

“where?” he asks, looking deep into your eyes to ensure you won’t be too loud, before freeing your lips to speak. your voice comes out hoarse when you reply where you want him to cum. “i-inside, please-”.

the norwegian has to crush his mouth to yours in a bruising, hard kiss, before his sounds are the ones that alert the outside world of what's happening in your little workspace. his bruising pace fails when he's on the edge, and a soft moan that slips out of you and directly onto his ear makes him lose it. he's deep into you, coating your insides which provoques your own frenzy to disinvolve.

everything gets too much for you, and you’re not sure you can wrap your mind around your surroundings, but martin keeps you afloat, holding your figure flush against him. "hey, you're okay, i'm here," he reassures, his soft touch grazing your cheek in a loving way when he sees your eyes glaze over. it's purely because of the mind shattering orgasm you just experienced, but he cares, wants to know you're okay. the gesture is intimate, certainly feels almost more intimate than the moment you've just shared, and once you reassure him that you're okay, he kisses the crown of your hair before proceeding to dress himself properly.

"you like the armband, right? i'm bringing it next time," martin shows his million dollar smile before picking his shirt from the floor, and puts it again in a quick motion, smothering the creases in hopes that no one that sees him leaving your office could figure out what went down between you two.

"already thinking about the next time, ødegaard?".

the door knock startles you both, and breaks the atmosphere previously held in the four walls. his hair is a bit messy after you pulled endlessly from the locks not even five minutes ago, but he makes a quick move to tame it, passing his long fingers through his gold strands and setting it in place, exactly how he likes it, before you open the door to find just the one person that you didn’t want to see.

"oh, i knew you'd still be here," arteta calls upon seeing you, still in the secluded area you work in. he doesn't find it weird that you remain here, knowing that you’re the first one to arrive and the last one to leave, just like he is. instead, his eyes furrow when he sees better into your eyes, still a bit glassy.

"martin, did you make her cry?".

his hands are in his pockets, trying to hide off the tent still present in his joggings. it doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to gather a believable enough excuse, and you’re kinda impressed about it, figuring that he might have thought about this more than you thought. "she was upset about the game" he explained, lips pursed without giving out much emotion, quite like how you saw him answer the interviews he did post-match. "told her to not worry too much. we'll win next time,” martin smiled, turning his stare to you now. “for you, right?".

#martin ødegaard x reader #martin ødegaard x you #martin ødegaard imagine #martin odegaard x you #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard imagine #football imagine #football x you #football smut #football x reader

370 notes · View notes

fandomwriterlover · 1 year

Text

When they realice that they are in love

Leo

You are Leo's new best friend. The one person he enjoy to made pranks and watch Captain Jupiter movies; you two just clicked since day one. To the dismay of the other brothers you two were partners of crime (pranks). An instant duo.

So, for him, it was a bummer when you sometime had to cancel plans because of your family or becasue you were sick with a flu. In those cases he would come to your place through one of his portals to keep an eye on you and keep you company, it became an habit of him.

It were his brothers who pointed out that he was acting like a clingy-loving boyfriend. Clingy? Boyfriend? HIM? ... Now, could he? He did enjoy to spend time with you. And you are very fun and kind. You even encourage him and... bust his confidence up, making him feel good... But he brushed out those thoughts.

"Y/N and I are just best friends." "Riiiiight..." "Oh come on, what's the big deal about me checking on Y/N? I just love being with them-" Then it hit him. "LIKE! Like I LIKE being with... Y/N?" Oh... What? WHAT?! WHAT DID HE JUST SAID!? He escaped from his brothers merciless 'we knew it' with a portal, and before his face got set on fire.

Please, don't think that Leo is intentionally avoiding you lately; behind all his unbelivable excuses, like he had to feed Señor Hueso's apperently new pet or something, there's a bubble of anxiety mixed with fear placed in his chest that he is concealing it from you. What if you don't fell the same way?

Raph

Who's the best sparring partner Raph ever had? You. Not to offend Buddy, but practicing with you it's both great training and fun; specially when you both are fans of GhostBear and emulates his special wrestle moves.

One day, you did the impossible: you made Raph fall backward and pinned down him. It was like the time stopped for a moment for him, he was starring you as you where gleefully happy that you managed to have a win for once. Your smile and laugh... That bright in your eyes...

It was like suddenly his heart went-- BOOM!!

Thank heavens you were busy that week after that day, because Raph needed desperatly time to figure out why was he feeling so... So strange around you! It was like he was forgetting how to speak to you, his hand would sweat rivers... His fear stink was oozing out of his skin, and he didn't like it! He needed to talk to someone he could trust his issues, someone he could open up easily and seek for advice. Sadly he couldn't find Ghostbear anywhere, so he went to Splinter.

"... And since then I just feel weird around Y/N. And I don't know what to do." His father was already at the edge of the couch, having his son this naive about his brand new feelings was so much interested than his show. He managed to put his "sensei voice" and ask him calmly. "I see... Tell me, son, normaly how do you feel about Y/N?" "Well, It's my best friend.. And I like them." "Try to repeat that..." "I... Like Y/N." His father gestured him to go on. "I like Y/N... Like, very..." His mind gears rolled at last, his face were blushing as a tomato at the realitation of his brand new feelings toward you.

Donnie

It was perfect friendly relationship between you two: you can get help with your homework and assigments and he had a videogame multiplayer partner. You were in his ranking of people he can stand, right above Leo.

It was one game night, you two were online from your respective homes playing Teenage Mutant Punk Frogs (did you get the cameo?) at the last level. It took weeks of tears, sweats and tons of caffeine to finally reach this moment... And you won together! You both cheered from the mics and out of nowhere from Donnie's throat came a loud "I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!"-- It took a second for Donnie to process what he just said and go out of the game.

Don't get upset if the turtle don't answer your calls, the poor boy was being a wreking mess right now. He couldn't concive what he just said! Of course he would say "I love you" to his family and friends when he feel excited or when he (rarely) wants to express his feelings... But saying it to you... Something in him felt too different.

His first reason of why was because... Something was wrong with him. So he run some test of himself: blood pressure, temperature, brain CAT... He even programated Sheldon to monotorice his vitals and signals, even his brain waves. And by the passing day, everything was apperently normal. He sighed as relief, thinking that maybe it was the rush of the game and the excessive caffeine.

He called you back apologizing about yesterday. Of course you did, and you tell him that you were so happy when you both aced the game together. And that he was great. "Your heart beat as quicked." Suddenly Sheldon voice appeared. You asked what was that. "Huh, NOTHING! I've updated Sheldon and... He is STILL in downlanding process!" He was getting nervous, a mostly because he was indeed felling his heart beat faster than usual. "Your pituitary gland is segreating hormones-" And with a crashing sound he hang out. So... Yep, to his dismay, the diagnosis was this: He's in love.

Mikey

There's nothing more that Mikey loves than making new friends, and you became his brand new friend since minute one. He invite you to skateboard, to walk over the mystic city, the rooftops... And if you have any artist vibe, boy he would excited!

You spend mostly of the time drawing and painting together; trying new techniques and tricks. Also portraits of the rest of the gang and each other. Mikey you paint you colorful, because you always end up with paint stains over your face. He thinks it's a good trait of you. Later at night he would dradle a little more before going to sleep... And somehow, he started to draw you.

It started with a simple emoji of your face with your usual hairstyle. He did nailed it. He also remembers your clothing style. Your accesories. The size of your hands and the color of your fingernails. The color you eyes... Your eyelashes... Your smile... Your lips... "Orange! Lights out and go to sleep!!" His father's voice snapped out of that trance, unconsciously closing his sketch book. He opened it again... Gosh, WHY DID HE DRAW YOU SO MUCH?!

He couldn't get even a blink the whole night! And when you ask him if he was alright, he just tense up and try to hide his tireness. Since when does he feel tense around you?! You're one of his best friends! His most caring and adorable friend... Who has tons of drawing of you all detailed... and hearts around you. Last time you saw him his face were getting red and sweaty. "I GOTTA GO!" And runaway.

He hide inside his shell the whole day in his room. His brothers eventually comes to see what was wrong with their baby brother; Raph would be soflty ask, Leo would be more teasing, Donnie would peek at his phone... And then he noticied the sketch book. "Huh, what do we have here-" Like a thunder beast, Mikey jumped over Donnie and snatched the drawings off his hand. Safe, he thought. But his brother had one page of the drawings... And the other bothers took a peek too. "Ooooooooohhh~" And Mikey kept hidden on his shell for two weeks.

#rottmnt x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise!leo x reader #rise!raph x reader #Rise!Donnie x reader #rise!mikey x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of tmnt #rottmnt

716 notes · View notes

something-about-sunflowers · 9 months

Text

I kinda feel like too many people aren't looking at the whole picture with Guillermo and Nandor/his family this season?

Guillermo knows, to a certain extent, that it's hurting Nandor that he's avoiding him. He just can't not avoid him because of the whole 'secretly turned by another vampire and Nandor will have to kill him then himself for the sake of his bruised honor/ego' thing.

Guillermo is also hurting though. His attempt to take some agency for himself by actively pursuing something he's wanted since before he even met Nandor has massively backfired on him in every possible way he couldn't even begin to expect. He didn't know he'd have a Weird Transformation. He didn't know there was some taboo for having another vampire turn him as Nandor's familiar (and he's not actually Nandor's familiar anymore anyway, technically, they're all just dumb and forgot that fact). He, comparatively, only recently found out about the whole Van Helsing thing and that his family can't control themselves around vampires (though I feel like it probably will be different with their Memo, if we're being honest), so he very likely thought for most of his time waiting for Nandor to turn him that he'd still be able to see them occasionally and get/give closure over a longer period of time before he had to stop seeing them when it became obvious he wasn't aging like they were.

He does care about his mom, yall, did you miss him breaking down in the elevator or were you just distracted by him breaking the hand-rail? He's just been very preoccupied with a whole lot of drama (Which he complained about! He told Nandor how upset he was that the wedding and Baby Colin were keeping him too busy to see his family! The end of season 4 was days before the start of season 5.) and an extreme life change. He's an adult. That kind of shit happens when you're an adult (granted, his situation is significantly more fantastical given the whole vampires thing but still). Sometimes you get caught up in your adult life and you miss your mom's birthday. Sometimes you make a big life change that you think is what's best for you and it means you won't be able to be as close to your family. Yes. It's selfish of him - to an extent - but for fuck's sake you can't live your life for other people, even - especially, in some cases - if those people are your family. I'm kind of appalled at people saying that he's deserving to feel bad and rejected because he made a choice for himself. Do you think his mom is blaming him as harshly as some of you are? No! The first thing she asked him was 'are you happy with this change?' She cares about her son's happiness. He's not entirely in the right but fuck do yall know how to do anything but swing hard in the other direction? There's grey areas! All in the middle! Right there, look!!

And then on top of him already being extremely emotionally compromised from reckoning with having to leave his family behind, on top of the already 'emotionally difficult' avoiding Nandor for both of their sakes, he gets another big rejection in his own home from the people he cares most about. I don't know if Nandor noticed that his rejection hurt Guillermo. He's dumb but I really don't know if he's that dumb. He's been able to recognize in the past when he's hurt Guillermo so I don't see why he couldn't now. Are yall gonna blame Memo for feeling bad if Nandor decides to do something to try and win him back or cheer him up? Or if Nandor is upset/worried about having hurt Guillermo?

I don't really know where I'm going with this anymore lmao. My point is: Yes, Guillermo's choice is hurting people but it's also hurting him and he's been hurt for a while now and hurt people hurt people (which is why Nandor lashed out too!) so cut him a little bit of slack maybe? He didn't do anything to intentionally hurt anyone he just wanted to take some agency back for himself that he's been missing for like. Ten. Thirteen years or so now.

#the dork is being a dork #wwdits #wwdits spoilers #wwdits s5 spoilers #wwdits season 5 spoilers #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows spoilers #what we do in the shadows s5 spoilers #what we do in the shadows season 5 spoilers #mind i'm ALSO feeling bad for nandor #i can care about both of them at the same time #but i don't get how yall can look at memo crying in that elevator #and hear the break in his voice when he say 'well okay then' and how SAD he sounds when he responds to nandor's 'wait what?'#and think he deserves that #or that it's good for him to feel rejected from both of his families

104 notes · View notes

inchidentally · 3 months

Note

Why do I feel like Oscar is intentionally keeping Lando at a distance because he assumes it would never work out? And Lando kind of wishes Oscar would show an interest but he isn't so Lando pulls back too? Maybe I'm totally crazy but feels like they're doing a double fake out. If not then why not just be friendly the way they are with other guys?

@twinkodium helped talk me through this ask so a huge thank you to her <3

gonna put below a cut and include some other asks that aren't necessarily of interest to everyone and are kind of in the same vein (note the tag)

okay so "why not just be friendly like they are with other guys" is a pretty good thing to focus on bc when you actually break it down, Lando and Oscar define themselves as being pretty shy and they conceal a fair amount their lives and closest friends from the public. and truth is that it seems to take both of them at least a year of knowing someone before they open up - and even longer before they're as friendly as we see them with guys like Logan, Zhou, Carlos or Daniel. Lando lists the guys he's known since as far back as karting as his closest friends. so after just one season together, what we already have in terms of friendliness between Lando and Oscar is pretty damn good!

but honestly we can't say that either of them are really holding back at all when we've got Andrea and Zak constantly emphasizing how in sync they are and then of course how big they both show up for each other's wins/poles etc. whatever we don't get in terms of fun fandom content, we've got them showing each other mutual respect and support and sharing the same priorities. that's... really good imo.

it's what cracks me up abt everyone who went all 'planetf1 angry white dad in oakleys selfie in a truck comment section' over that recent Oscar quote. Lando's literally had everyone saying the same thing to him, directly and on social media ?? did they also decide that Martin Brundle, Natalie Pinkham, Lawrence Barretto and Jenson Button all despise Lando and want to take swipes at him by saying that his public flagellation feels of no use and worse, that it's probably a hindrance to his mindset? did Lando suddenly became loathed by all these people who SEEM to openly like or love him bc they said that ??

or did they expect Oscar to respond to that question with "oh no yeah it's cool that my teammate who I actually like shits all over himself and gives his haters ammo y'know to each their own whatever man" bc that WOULD actually be incredibly cold and hurtful asgajsgfljasf

I know fandom can go way off track and start expecting these men to talk like fan fic but the truth is that they view each other as professionals and fellow drivers first and friends (if they are) second. I won't repeat myself bc I've posted about it enough but none of the grid are a significant part of Lando or Oscar's life outside F1. Lando and Martin did a stopover in Perth (and apparently Martin even had work there?) for one day to ride dirt bikes at Daniel's ranch and Lando went to Carlos' sisters' gigantic state wedding lol. doesn't compare at all compared to Lando's time spent with Max F, the quadrant folks, his family, his Monaco friends and definitely not Martin Garrix. it also doesn't mean that they're not still friends with those guys on the grid - it's just not the same.

so the fact that Lando and Oscar aren't out here dishing out bromancey stuff where fans can see and hear definitely doesn't say that those bromances mean the drivers are actually any closer. Oscar relied on extroverts like Robert and Arthur to give him something to play off and Lando relied on Carlos and Daniel for the same. so when they're left without a gobby extrovert they do that cute thing of giggling and handing back and forth to each other. to me personally it's always kind of sweet ?? that Lando and Oscar do the thing of looking at each other for support to get through the cringey and awkward to camera stuff. sometimes when Lando is really feeling himself Oscar can just kick back and watch him. and as we saw w that helmet design video, even when Oscar isn't filming w Lando he hangs around offers support.

wow apparently I cannot stay on track today anon but idk I just personally think that it's the opposite of a mutual fakeout and they've bonded pretty well over both being shy, both being equally focused on their careers and also needing to switch off sometimes. finding out they spent the night after Lando's crash in Vegas together sharing "commiserations" is like, one in a long list of us hearing that they chose to hang out alone together and not publicize it.

all of us are on the outside of their friendship and as much as that suuuuucks for not getting as much content as we want, it's also really sweet and kind more likely to be genuine and lasting since they consider a lot of that relationship as private <3

askgfka no prob!! tbh a lot of the stress and anxiety in other Lando ships is down to ppl getting way too comfy w the idea that real life partners either aren't "real" or that they're the only thing standing in the way of their ship becoming real.

and bc for some reason landoscar makes me want to write all of these essays I feel like it's kind of my responsibility to be like yeah, there's even more than just assuming ppl's sexualities and their real life partners stand between two ppl we like to imagine together actually getting together. rpf is heavy on the f and mostly what we're all actually enjoying are friendships. and as someone who is lucky to have them, I personally wouldn't be one of those ppl who said romantic partners and friendships are on some sliding scale of importance. they're just different!

ever since landoscar became a thing, Lily's been in Oscar's life and Lando's been pursued by every man who sees him and burning through baddies on Raya on a literal global scale. it's important to come back from rpf to that fact so we don't end up attraction those legions of people calling real life girlfriends "PR beards" or that Lando's dating app horniness is some front for him meeting up with Carlos or Daniel or whoever lol.

oh I am so not the person to answer abt this since I can't relate to wanting couples to get married or thinking that it's all that significant! I'm a huge romantic and I theoretically enjoy the idea of weddings/marriage but all the ppl I know who've gotten married out of college are already regretting or cheating it so it's put a real damper on it for me.

but that's as much as I want to speculate abt them bc I don't want to put anything out in the universe for ppl I'll never even know !!

#inchreplies #f1rpftalk #f1partnerstalk

33 notes · View notes

aikoiya · 1 year

Text

DPxDC Rant - Superman Isn't A Clonophobe

Hey, this is basically just a compilation of all my thoughts in regards to the subject of Clark being a clonophobe & a bad person from @nelkcats & @wolfeyedwitch's posts on the subject.

A lot of this is just retreading old ground, but I realized that I don't have a post of my own on the subject. I thought I did, but I don't. So, this is just me putting it all out there in one spot. I might add onto it later, but right now, this is good enough.

---

I think Supes is a genuinely nice guy & if someone were to actually try & talk to him about it, he could get to a point where he realizes that he was wrong about Kon & be genuinely apologetic.

Like, everyone's so busy demonizing him over the clone thing that a lot of people don't look at the situation from his perspective.

I just... I guess that I see it as victim-blaming. Not that Connor isn't also a victim, but Lex stole Clark's DNA without his permission & used it to create another person who he wanted to use against Superman. That's basically baby-trapping which is a thing that legit happens & it isn't right.

Woman who impregnated self with stolen semen from billionaire wins child support battle (vanguardngr.com)

So, yes! If you're pro-choice, but also think that the man should pay child support even if he never wanted the kid or you think that Supes shouldn't be allowed to say that he doesn't want Connor in his life, then that is both hypocritical, sexist, & misandristic.

At the same time, Supes' situation could also be considered analogous to a rape victim being forced to keep the baby & raise it despite having been so thoroughly traumatized by the experience.

Like, women these days can freely get abortions or give their kids up for adoption when the abortion doesn't work & it's considered brave & even merciful, but when Clark is put in the exact same position & he doesn't want anything to do with Connor, he's a horrible clonophobe?? Yes, it's horrible, but there is a definite double standard there.

Hell, there are even people these days debating if it's moral for a woman to tell the doctors not to aide the baby when the abortion does fail! And in California, a bill was suggested that would make it perfectly legal for a woman to just up & decide to let her child, one alive outside the womb & no longer attached to the mother, to starve to death if she decides she doesn't want to be a mother anymore despite her life in no way being in danger from the child & adoption being an option! It's just... frivolous!!

And that's perfectly fine, apparently!

Yet, a man who doesn't want to be a father is forced to provide child support? There are even situations where a woman knows that the baby isn't his, but tricks him into thinking it is in order to get that sweet, sweet child support.

(4) How common is it for a woman to intentionally get pregnant to trap a man? Do you know anyone this has happened to? - Quora

You can't deny that it happens! Yet, *nasally voice* oh, the man's responsible. He shouldn't have had sex with her if he didn't want a kid. He did that to her! He got her pregnant! Nyeh-nyeh-nyeh-nyeh-nyeh!

*normal voice* Good grief, why the double standards?

If the man is responsible because if he didn't want a baby, he shouldn't have been having sex, then the same is true of women. If they didn't want kids, then they shouldn't have been having sex either! Period!

Like, don't get me wrong, Clark is absolutely wrong for the way he treated Connor, but it's still understandable why he reacted that way. He was hurt!

Again, it's by no means a good reason to act that way, but it is a reason & an understandable one at that.

Clark is a down home, salt of the earth, good ol' boy & I just think that if the JL had informed Ma & Pa of the situation, then things would've been sorted out much sooner. They'd straighten their boy out quick! And if Clark is still determined to be stubborn & hard-headed about it, then if nothing else, I can see Ma & Pa taking Connor in & giving him all the love he deserves.

To me, this is the Superman I know:

And this is why I think that people are too hard on Supes:

All-in-all, I don't think that he'd be opposed to all clones. Rather, I feel like he has a problem with Kon, specifically, for a very misguided reason.

Besides, Danny has no room to criticize because even though he reacted differently to the revelation of Dani's existence, he is also canonically known to misplace his aggressions. It's even made into a joke in the show. Like, they verbally address it!

One such instance is in the Fright Before Christmas episode where he says that he hates Christmas, but by seeing his reasoning, you realize that it isn't actually Christmas itself that he's angry at, but his parents who argue constantly during Christmas & allow said arguing to ruin the Christmases of those around them.

And, you can pretend that this wasn't a situation of misplaced aggression, but keep in mind that he went to the Ghost Zone to destroy a bunch of Christmas items to take out his aggression on the holiday even though it's just the background for the source of his anger. Then, upon learning that the book he'd destroyed was a Christmas one, his apology turned to satisfaction! He also said so himself!

That's a form of misplaced aggression.

Displaced aggression is defined as "occurs when an animal or human is fearful or agitated by external stimuli, a provocation, or perception, but is unable or unwilling to direct their aggression toward the stimulus. The aggressor may direct aggression toward whoever is nearest." That's exactly what's happening here!

I theorize that he subconsciously feels like it's preferable to hate Christmas than to actually confront his parents' negligence & be angry at them.

Keep in mind, he never blames his parents for their unsafe practices that lead to him half dying.

Danny points his frustrations towards those who aren't at fault all the time. Maybe not in the case of Dani, but definitely in other situations.

---

Furthermore, I also feel like I have to clarify that I grew up watching Smallville, which is sort of a prequel to the Superman saga.

And, in it, (spoiler warning) for a lot of the earlier seasons, Clark & Lex are friends. Like, legit good friends.

So, that probably colors my perspective as, from my point of view, being betrayed so severely by someone who was once your friend hurts a whole hell of a lot worse than someone who's always been your enemy. Especially when you've got as big of a heart with as much love in it as Clark. When you love so freely, it's easy to get hurt & in a lot of ways, it hurts worse when those you trust most betray you.

Also, Smallville? Fun show, ya'll should totally check it out.

Now, anyway, I admit that this probably isn't the case with most iterations of Superman, but I can't help that this was one of my primary sources on the characters' personalities growing up & as a result, I do tend to operate under the assumption that this is his backstory.

Because of this, I might be a little biased & in some way think that Clark might've been experiencing that betrayal by Lex all over again &, to be fair, knowing that he hurt Supes so bad, even if it's only on an emotional level, would absolutely thrill Lex & Clark probably knows that.

Like, I wouldn't be surprised if Clark had mostly gotten over the betrayal, but then this shit happens & it's like the wound is fresh all over again.

So, in this situation, Clark has nowhere to really put all that anger than on Connor, which is wrong, but also understandable.

Because, he can't even let Lex know he's upset because it'd just make the other man happy. Why would Superman give him that satisfaction? In other words, he can't really hurt Lex beyond some annoyance which sucks.

On the other hand, Danny & Vlad were never friends, the millionaire's dumbass monologue about killing Jack & marrying Maddie nipped that prospect in the bud in the literal first episode that he appeared in. So discovering that the guy cloned him didn't hurt Danny practically at all other than the violation itself because he'd already dismissed Vlad as a creepy frootloop.

Meanwhile, from the very start, Vlad wanted Danny as his son, so in some form or fashion, he does care & place value on him. It might be a selfish sort of value, but it is value nonetheless. He obviously has zero idea how to show that care & when he tries, it comes out very toxic & harmful, but he does care. Thus, when Danny rejects him, it hurts. And, somewhere, Danny probably knows this.

Which is why he's free to point his anger at Vlad rather than Dani. To point all that anger & frustration at exactly the person that was responsible. Clark doesn't get to do that. At least, not to the extent that he probably wants to.

Whereas in the case of the Christmas debacle, Danny doesn't want to hate his parents, so he finds it easier to take that frustration out on Christmas because Christmas has never made him happy & won't have the same emotional fallout to it that confronting the fact that his parents are selfish & self-absorbed & negligent would.

Because of this, having Danny lecture Superman on not misplacing his anger actually makes him come across as a bit of a hypocrite & it isn't fair because I have yet to see this point brought up in fics. Instead, Danny is portrayed as completely in the right! Like, it'd be one thing if their version of Danny had grown out of displacing his anger & was even trying to actually move on from it.

Hell, they could even make it so Danny is lecturing Supes from the perspective of someone who used to do it himself & is working on getting better at it. But they don't & instead protray him as holier than thou.

At the end of the day, I just don't think that a lot of fic writers, at least, none of the ones I've read about, give the situation the nuance it deserves, instead going the easy route & turning Superman into an irredeemable asshole when he really isn't. Not usually anyway.

In this situation, yeah, he was kinda a dick, but there's a reason & I feel like people either ignore that fact completely or just say "not good enough."

Hell, they don't even take into account the fact that even in Young Justice, where he's an ass, he doesn't stay that way! He eventually accepts Connor, so why harp on him about it!?

Edit: Someone seemed to be under the impression that I thought Superman had it worse. To the contrary, he has it way better.

This isn't a victim contest, it's about understanding why the characters might've reacted the way they did & that has nothing to do with who has it worse.

You don't have to have a bad life to react badly to things. It's all in how you process information & experiences.

Clark just processed the situation in a very bad way in this particular instance.

The point was to show how the 2 aren't all that different. I can easily see the 2's reactions being switched in the right circumstances.

The thing is, I don't understand why not knowing that Connor was also genetically created from Lex would somehow stop Superman from reacting the way he did towards Connor because didn't he know that he himself was Connor's genetic template from pretty much the beginning?

Plenty of people react badly to having a kid regardless of who the other parent was.

DP Character HC Masterlist

#danny phantom #dp #dc #dp x dc #superman #clark kent #connor kent #kal el #kon el #clone rights #debunk superman as a clonophobe #in defense of superman #misandry #sexism #in defense of men #babytrapping #clonophobia #anti clonophobia

220 notes · View notes

talesof-old · 1 month

Text

nightly studies | c.w.

pairing(s): charlie weasley x male!reader

warning(s): 18+, smut, blowjobs, slight edging, very slight voyeurism?, sharing an apartment, shower sex, needy reader, reader has a penis, not proofread or edited, i don’t know what i’m doing i wrote this in one sitting

word count: 1.7k

a/n: so originally the request was for while charlie and reader were at hogwarts but that would make them underage so i changed it so they’re working at the romanian dragon reserve

i did change the request just a tad, so i hope that’s fine!

masterlist

charlie weasley + smut

You’d been listening to Charlie talk about the characteristics of the Antipodean Opaleye for at least thirty-five minutes. You glanced at the clock on the apartment wall and grimaced.

23:49.

You shifted in your seat, pants rubbing against your dick in an unforgiving tease, leaving you nearly gasping. It couldn’t be helped; Charlie was most attractive when he talked about the things he was passionate about, and one of those things just happened to be dragons. The two of you had been studying for the newest addition to the Romanian dragon reserve for hours at this point.

One glance over at Charlie solidified the inkling that stopping for release would not be an option. You sighed, grabbing your previously abandoned quill and marking the notes sheet you’d made.

“-and it’s got to be one of the prettiest dragons I’ve ever seen.”

You nodded along, finishing your note about adult breeding habits. At least someone was getting ducked down.

A gentle hand touched your thigh, high enough that you nearly jumped out of your skin. “You alright, love?” Your face burned but you hummed, nodding at the redhead. He leaned closer, head just inches from yours.

“Are you certain?”

You rolled your shoulders back and spared him a glance. His eyes glittered in the soft candlelight, which under any other circumstances would have you kissing him like a starved man. He jerked his chin towards your papers. You huffed, handing him the pages with words still damp from ink.

“Blimey, you’ve gotten far more done than I have.” You shook your head. A soft smile fought its way to your lips; of course Charlie Weasley didn’t have to write any of the information down, he was Charlie Weasley. The other dragonologists didn’t joke about him being the Walking Dragon Encyclopedia for nothing.

“Not all of us can keep all of that information in our brains.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The stubble on his chin rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your face, reminding you of a much different place you’d like to feel it. You shifted in your seat again. The boner you’d been rocking for what felt like an eternity seemed to grow more sensitive with every moment. If you glanced up, you might’ve noticed the all too knowing smile on Charlie’s face.

Silence fell over the both of you, save for the scratching of quills against parchment or the clinking of metal in ink pots. It droned on and on, echoing like a drum in your ears. Charlie, potentially intentionally (and infuriating) oblivious, dutifully wrote out the notes he imagined he’d need later.

A part of you hated him for it.

The other part of you ended up winning, however. A quick glance at the clock told you it was twenty past midnight. Your shared roommate’s shift ended in just a little over an hour.

“How much longer you got?”

Charlie’s brow furrowed in mock innocence as he flipped through several pages then turned to you.

“Dunno, maybe a chapter?”

You clicked your tongue. “You have fifteen minutes. Please come to the bedroom when you’re done.” He simply blinked at your request; a borderline plea for him to follow.

“Love, you know I love you dearly, but why…?”

You stacked your own books neatly, putting a lid on your ink pot and organizing your paper. His expectant words had you gnawing at the inner part of your cheek.

Heat spread across your neck. Was he really going to make you explain yourself? Truly?

Instead, you stood.

In moments, Charlie’s face was beat red, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know he was far from embarrassed—or surprised. You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face and shuffling to the bedroom.

“Be there soon as I finish, love. Don’t get started without me.”

His words turned firm. You bit your lip, closing the door behind you and undressing quietly. Night shifts sometimes ended earlier than normal due to the overlap of shifts, so there was a chance your roommate Sasha would be back at any moment.

You crawled into bed, clad in nothing but underwear, body nearly trembling with anticipation. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your eyelids despite the tension that seemed to snake through every inch of your being. Sleep would come quickly tonight.

Your cock ached at the lack of touch, enough that you seriously debated starting without your boyfriend. Time dragged as you laid among the soft sheets. Another glance at the clock.

00:52.

You groaned, head flopping back onto the pillow. Privacy was rare to come by these days, especially at the Sanctuary. Both of you loved your job with every fiber of your being, but damn if it didn’t sometimes get to you. It was like being in school all over again.

The door creaked open and Charlie’s sheepish smile instantly had you raising a brow.

“Sasha’s back.”

You nearly wept.

“Come on, I’ve got an idea.”

Charlie crossed the room to tug you from the bed, all but dragging you into the bathroom. The cogs in your brain slowly but surely started turning. A grin spread across your face.

“Shower sex? Really? Well you sure know how to seduce someone.” Charlie shook his head and wrapped his arms around you, peppering your face and neck with kisses. You hummed at the affection, tracing over the burn marks on his arms.

“Need to drown out the noises, rather not have him walk in on the two of us.”

Your dick throbbed at the idea of potentially getting caught. Charlie turned, switching on the shower and letting it warm up. In the meantime, you stripped down completely with him following suit, both nude in the chilly bathroom. Your cock slapped against your abdomen as you waited for the water.

“Remind you of anything?”

You laughed as you conjured up an image of the prefect bathroom.

“Perhaps one too many fond memories.”

He reached a hand under the water to test the temperature. With a nod, you were stepping into the rather small shower cubicle. He settled behind you, nipping at the skin of your shoulder as he reached around you to splay a hand over your abdomen. You clamped your mouth shut to avoid the keening noise that would’ve erupted from your throat.

“Careful, love.”

You leaned against the wall, desperate for stability as his hand lowered, gliding over skin until he gripped your cock at the base. You bucked your hips, the sensation too much and not enough. Red hot pleasure nearly blinded you as Charlie fondled your balls, your legs trembling at the sudden assault.

“I’m too tired to shag. Give you a jobby?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to open your mouth.

He was down on his knees in an instant, lips smacking before he turned you to face him. He leaned you against the wall, legs just barely parted for balance. Charlie guided your cock to his mouth, lips parting as he took you in. You gasped, already far too close from how long you’d waited. He inched you further into his mouth until you were as far as you could go. Your eyes rolled back as he gave an experimental suck, his tongue warm and soft against your sensitive flesh.

Pleasure coiled in your gut like a spring. If he wasn’t careful, you’d blow a load quicker than a virgin.

“Charlie-“ You weren’t even sure what you were going to say, especially as he drew back and began licking at the veins of your dick. Warm water pelted against your side. You choked, reaching a hand out to the wall as he kitten licked all the way up the length of you. He paused for a brief moment, long enough that you looked down.

His hair was halfway in his eyes, sipping wet as he regarded you like something divine. Your knees went weak.

“Beautiful.”

His lips attacked themselves to your balls, already taut from holding back a rapidly impending orgasm, and you used your free hand to cover your mouth.

He grinned, moving to lick one long stripe on the bottom of your cock to the tip. Your hips bucked against his face. He loosened his jaw, careful of his teeth, and allowed you to sink back into his warm hole.

You shook, teetering on the edge of climax, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed.

He sucked, bobbing his head up and down as if daring you to cum in his mouth. You moaned loudly against your hand, trembling like a baby fawn as you felt your balls tightened and your cock pulsed. Your hips involuntarily jerked, sending you deeper into his mouth. The tip of your dick hit the back of his throat, and instead of choking he sucked hard.

Just as you nearly fell over the edge, Charlie pulled away. You whined, tears filling your eyes at the denial. Reasonably, you knew he was trying to wear you out. But you’d rather cum right now. Charlie rubbed his cheek against your thigh, far too tender for what he’d just done.

“Don’t be mad, lovely.”

You inhaled sharply as your climax slowly faded away.

He pressed kisses to your inner thighs, alternating between sucking hard or gently licking at the skin, desperate to mark up your skin. He gripped your legs, his fingers digging in as he returned his attention back to your cock.

Your chest heaved as he sucked on your head, running a tongue over your slit. Your hands splayed across the tile of the shower, unsteady in their search for solid ground.

He took you deeper, your abdomen tensing as you rapidly approached your orgasm once more. Your body ached with desire. He bobbed his head, each motion sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Late nights always heightened your sensitivity.

You bucked against his mouth, moaning as he swirled his tongue around your shaft.

Charlie hummed, and all of a sudden it was too much. You cried out, white flashing across your eyes as you came. Charlie swallowed, throat still massaging you through your orgasm. You whined weakly, panting as your vision returned. Charlie slowly pulled you from his mouth, patting your thigh as you groaned. He wrapped his arms around you. You leaned heavy against him, body shaky.

He kissed you hard, salty cum still on his tongue as he did. You moaned against his mouth, almost desperate to have another go at the taste of you still lingering.

A bang on the bathroom door had you jumping in his arms.

“Are you two done now? I need to take a piss!”

You laughed quietly, resting your head against Charlie’s shoulder.

“We need to get our own place.”

+++

#harry potter x reader #harry potter #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley x male!reader #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley smut #charlie weasley #x reader #talesofold birthday special

49 notes · View notes