#i like to think i like to do a lot of these things alone

[nothorses]

I think the thing about it for me is that transmascs have the fundamental right to tell you what our experiences with misogyny and male privilege are, not the other way around.

You don't know what we go through unless we tell you. I don't know what other transmascs go through unless they tell me. Cis women, other trans people, even people with the exact same identities, the exact same life trajectories- none of us know what another person is experiencing or has experienced, let alone how they have interpreted and internalized those experiences, unless they tell us. Even then, we will only ever have access to an imperfect version of that true experience filtered through several layers of language and our own perception & biases.

Does this clash with what feminism says about men's experiences? Yes, absolutely! A lot of (generally mainstream) feminism believes that women Know what men experience better than they themselves do, colored as those experiences are by bias and privilege. And this is a fundamentally isolating, egotistical belief. It cuts us off from each other, it prevents us from connecting, and it shuts down meaningful conversation before it can happen. It says women are pure and perfect, and men are sullied by privilege; that anyone touched by privilege cannot be trusted, and should not trust themselves.

When cis men say they've never experienced privilege, the answer should not be, "you don't know that," it should be vulnerability & curiosity. Why do you think that? I find that hard to believe for these reasons, but I want to know more. I want to co-create understanding with you. Are you curious about me, too? Will you offer me this same kindness? (And if not, they're probably not worth your energy!)

And y'know what, maybe they haven't actually experienced the things you think they have! Maybe the framework you are using is imperfect- maybe it works on a systems analysis level, but it doesn't apply universally. Particularly when we're talking about marginalized men!

This idea that experiencing privilege means you cannot be trusted, ever, to understand that privilege or to know when you have or haven't experienced it? It's so fucking dangerous. Case in point: transfems should be able to talk about the ways in which they might have experienced male privilege without it immediately discrediting everything else they have to say, up to and including about their own identities.

We cannot operate like this. A framework that denies people's self-knowledge will never be capable of liberating anyone.

So yes, actually, some transmascs may experience conditional male privilege at times. But will you, do you believe transmascs when we tell you that we don't?

#transmasc #transandrophobia

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: i had 2 requests about babysitting yuuji and they were similar so i did the earlier one i hope its alright. read more!!

“hey, loser, what’s up?”

you smile at the sound of sukuna’s voice, “jus’ reading. what about you?”

you sense him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line at the mention of yet another book you’ve been gushing about.

“‘m still with the old man.” he grumbles, referring to his father, but his tone changes to a more serious one, making you worry, “look, there’s somethin’ i wanna ask you.”

“anything for you, ‘kuna.”

“could you watch yuuji for a couple of hours? jin’s been called from work and i can’t leave the old man alone right now, so…”

“of course! i adore yuuji, y’know that.”

he sighs in relief and chuckles, his fondness seeping through the line, “aren’t you the sweetest little thing? i’ll see you later then.”

“bye, ‘kuna!”

you close your book after bookmarking the page and jump from your bed to prepare and run to sukuna’s place, excited to spend time with his nephew.

jin’s relief when you appear in his doorway, a little out of breath but with a bright beam that matches yuuji’s nonetheless. he quickly gives you a list of things you should remember when watching over the little guy and presses a gentle kiss on both of your foreheads, leaving you a bit flustered and yuuji very happy.

you find it that 5-year old yuuji isn’t that to look after.

he is such a sweet boy; leading you through the house with his chubby fingers snugly wrapped around yours, giving you his big big smile that outshines everyone’s despite missing tooth on the front. he absolutely adores the way you treat him like he and you are on the same level, avoiding hurting him if gets even a little capricious and responding with the same energy he gives off.

yuuji loves to talk a lot, not shying away from anything that comes to his mind, still an unfiltered, naturally unlike his more balanced father and his barely approachable uncle. it’s impossible to be annoyed with him, his innocence and genuine interest in every little thing is so sweet you can’t help the fondness oozing through every word you say to him.

such a helpful boy too; even though he makes a face at the vegetables you put on his plate(jin emphasised on feeding it to him any possible way)he still eats them, distracted by your silly antics. he helps you with the dishes, clumsily drying the plates with his head barely even peeking over the counter. picking up the toys he plays with right after and putting them back in their places. and you can tell that jin, although alone, still does a pretty good job of raising the sweetest boy out of him, which warms your heart.

ruffling the pink tufts of hair on his head, pinching his cheeks lovingly, holding him close as he himself initiates physical contact, always eager to be in your space and accept and give love. throughout the rest of the day you clearly understand that just like falling in love with sukuna it’s just as easy to love little itadori yuuji and you find yourself easily giving in to his charming nature, feeling closer to him and his family than ever before.

when it’s time to go to sleep, he whines a little bit about not being sleepy to which you make a point of reminding him jin’s words(“if you behave extra good today i’ll give you a present, ‘kay?”). he just salutes with the wrong hand and tugs you to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

nestled in the comfort of his bed, with you sitting on your knees by its side, yuuji initiates another conversation, albeit his yawns keep interrupting his minds’ flow.

“d’you think i’ll be like dad and uncle when i grow up?”

your brows raise at the sudden seriousness in the little boy’s tone, “do you wanna be like them, yuuji?”

“of course! they are the coolest!”

you smile at him fondly, stroking the side of his face soothingly, to help him fall asleep faster, “you’ll be even cooler.”

he flashes you his toothless grin once again and closes his eyes.

“night night, yuuji.”

he mumbles something in response and dozes off, clutching his blanket. you kiss his forehead and try to contain another yawn, not even noticing the sleep catching up to you too as you continue gazing at him, lids falling closed a few seconds after.

the silence greeting them while they enter the house makes sukuna frown. jin is still not home, shoes absent from their usual spot, but you’re still there and he can’t help the excitement building up inside of him because he missed you.

he calls your name, yuuji, walking further in, yet still no response. throwing his things on the table in the guest room, sukuna can’t help but observe that his surroundings are neatly cleaned, even more than before. he looks around in the kitchen, knocks in the bathroom, inspects the living room — still no answer. so he decides to check yuuji’s room, maybe you’re playing or something and too distracted to hear him.

the sight that greets him is something new though, stealing the air all the way from his chest as his eyes widen. he slowly steps closer, hissing silently at the annoying squeaky floorboards, and crouches before you. you seem very very uncomfortable in that position, yet the way yuuji’s body is facing yours makes it clear that you were just waiting for the boy to fall asleep and joined him unintentionally. so cute, so warm it melts away the leftover iceberg that is his heart.

his hand caresses your cheek gently before poking it repeatedly, making you stir in your sleep.

“huh? ’kuna?”

he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as he lifts you up, “was the little shit good to you?”

“yuuji? he was the sweetest.” you blink at him sleepily, nuzzling deeper into his chest. sukuna can’t help the soft smile that stretches on his lips.

“thank you for the help, baby.”

“anytime, ‘kuna.”

#— miya writes! #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna fluff

[theoldsports]

SOUR.

Art Donaldson x Reader (Patrick Zweig x Reader) | SORRY series | 4.2k words

it’s finally here by popular demand. Patrick has entered the plot. this is set before all of the prior chapters, two days before the Donaldson wedding. can be read as part of the SORRY SERIES (read more episodes of their lives here) or on its own. lemme know if you’d like to be on the taglist.

warnings: 18+. angst. it’s brutal angst. more than allusions to Patrick’s canonical use of hard drugs. rehab, allusion to an OD, mention of Art’s disordered eating patterns. they’re bad for each other in a good way. the Donaldsons have a friendly dog. coveting another man’s wife. discussion of niche sexual fantasies. making out. biting. tornados/extreme weather. running away from your problems.

“Art?”

“Nngh.”

“Artie, wake up.”

“‘M up. Fhhh… ‘m up. What’s the matter?” Art grumbled with half shut eyes. “Somethin’ wrong?” He whispered even though they were alone. It was nighttime which meant whispering to Art.

“I don’t like this storm.”

What a sign that storm should have been.

Art smirked. “We’re getting married in, like, three days and you’re worried about the weather?”

“There’s a tornado warning. Or watch. Whichever the worse one is. I saw it on the news.”

Art frowned. “You ever been through a tornado?”

“No.”

Art rolled over from his position in [Y/N]’s arms to face her nose to nose. “I have. A lot. Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. His arm slotted into the dip of her waist and pulled her closer. “Close ‘em for me. That’s it, that’s it.” He coaxed as she followed his directions.

“I don’t see what this has to do with—“

“Shh, listen,” they both got quiet. Rain pelted against the windows. Wind whistled. Branches cracked and crunched. Thunder boomed. [Y/N] could see the gleam of lightning even behind her eyelids. “Hear it?”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Congrats. Your ears are workin’ best as they can,” Art teased to try and get his fiancé to crack a smile. “Now, which one’s the loudest? Which of the sounds?”

“You breathing.”

“I’m flattered. Which one outside?”

[Y/N] listened. “Right now? The rain, I think.”

“We’re in the clear for now. Let me know when the wind’s louder. Like that real, real crazy whooshing, whistling sound. When it starts whipping like that, we’ll go in the bathroom and lock the doors, yeah? Hell, we can head in now if it would make you feel better?”

“What if I fall asleep before the weather gets worse?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake,” Art yawned. “How about I get you up if I notice a disturbance. I gotta take care of my wife, right?”

“I’m not your wife.”

Art sighed. “…I know. I’m just practicing.”

Fortunately, no tornado ever touched down. And Art was still there when [Y/N] woke up.

It always amazed her that Art was still there everyday. For every nasty thing she said to him that she didn’t mean, every argument where she told him Patrick was right, every tennis match won or lost, every natural disaster, every tear shed. Art was there for all of it. He liked the bad moments as much as the good ones because it meant simply more time spent by [Y/N]’s side. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

It was too much power, [Y/N] frequently thought, that she had over Art.

[Y/N] faced Art and brushed his strawberry blonde hair away from his forehead. Art often looked exhausted. He wore his tiredness on his face and shoulders. The exhaustion of constantly chasing, people-pleasing and being a professional athlete could destroy a kid. Art wore it like a Boy Scout badge. [Y/N] could watch him look relaxed forever. It was so rare he looked like that.

“Good morning, guard dog,” [Y/N] whispered. Art stirred. She could tell he was awake even though his eyes were shut due to that crease the reappeared between his eyebrows. It was never not there in his waking moments. Slowly, Art’s hand crept up and gently clutched [Y/N]’s wrist. Art used his grip to slide [Y/N]’s hand down his own drowsy face. He planted a kiss on her palm before tiredly looking at her. “Good morning.” She repeated to him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” [Y/N] replied. Gray sunlight filtered through the window. “You ready for today?” She smirked.

“What’s today?”

“Patrick’s in town.”

Art dramatically threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I thought he was in tomorrow… Everything was so peaceful… And quiet,” Art mumbled into his elbow. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long and resolved into a soft laugh. “Whose babysitting?” He asked, peering his blue and brown eyes over his arm.

“I’m picking up the cake today, so I figured I could use his strength.”

Art sat up a bit. “You’re getting it today?”

“In the later afternoon, yeah. Why?”

“It’s gonna be, like, stale.”

[Y/N] glanced over at Art. “If we had gotten cupcakes like I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“You’re such a little jerk.” Art teased.

“Me!” [Y/N] gasped. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s not like you’re gonna eat it anyway because you don’t eat anything.”

“Little jerk!” Art said with his crooked smile widening. He leaned in, slotting an arm over her. “You heard me. You’re a little… troublemaking jerk.” Art’s nose almost pressed against hers.

“Oh yeah? Why are you marrying me then, hm?”

“…You’re pretty,” Art grinned almost timidly, bowing his head. His flat vocal timber sounded like the verbal equivalent of a blush. “Like, really, really pretty. Even if you suck.” Tenderly, Art leaned the rest of the way in to kiss [Y/N]. Once and then twice and then seven times. Maybe fourteen.

And they would have stayed like that all day.

They would have.

BANG BANG BANG.

Like gunshots.

Their lips parted and they held long eye contact. They paused. They sighed.

“Patrick.” They both said.

With a bend of his arms, the full weight of Art’s toned body collapsed on top of [Y/N]’s.

“Pretty baby!”

“No. ‘M pretending he’s not out there,” He laid flat on her, head on her chest. “Can’t go anywhere now.”

BANG BANG BANG on the front door again. Cheese, the couple’s Labrador mix barked at the sound from downstairs.

“Art!”

“Mhm-mm. Nope. Too bad. Sucks for Patrick.”

[Y/N] huffed. “You’re upsetting the dog.”

“He’s upsetting the dog,” Art started to laugh. “He showed up early. I’m just laying here. Hey, hey!” Art jeered as [Y/N] wiggled out from underneath him from backwards. She tried to inch away off the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped against the carpet, while Art held her legs in place on the bed. [Y/N] dangled in a half on-half off sort of way. Her oversized Stanford t-shirt rolled up during the drama, exposing her breasts to Art. Unashamed, he stared.

[Y/N] twisted her foot into the side of Art’s face, causing a small cry of disgust from him. Just enough chaos for her to slip away. Without hesitation, she tossed the lightweight door open and skittered down the stairs with Art’s long gate keeping pace behind her. His arms reached out in an attempt to grab her. “He’s early! He can wait! He’s never been early in his whole fucking life!” Art laughed. Cheese jumped and barked at the hysteria.

The chase continued until [Y/N]’s hand hit the doorknob and chain. She unlocked it immediately. As [Y/N] ripped the door open, Art’s arm encircled her waist yanking her to the side with the force of his momentum, causing her to laugh with glee.

And on the other side of the door was Patrick Zweig.

Smiling impishly, Patrick took in the disheveled appearances of his two favorite people. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nice boner.” Patrick smirked at Art, while he pulled [Y/N] into a side hug.

Art didn’t have a boner, or at least a proper one. But the comment was enough to get Art to look. He rolled his eyes and pulled Patrick in for a hug. Cheese ran over to the door for attention, when Art greeted Patrick.

Art closed the door. Patrick ducked down to greet the Labrador too. He liked Cheese, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to be around a dog in his free time the way that Art and [Y/N] did. Cheese really liked Patrick, much to his chagrin, so he pretended to be nice. While Patrick sat on the floor with the animal, he looked up at his best friends. “What’s with the clothes? You just get up?” Art with no shirt in just tube socks and boxers, and [Y/N] in Art’s old college shirt and underwear. They had all seen each other like this so many times growing up that no one particularly cared that the future Donaldsons looked so post coital. It was pretty normal. Patrick’s smirk sliced further across his unwashed face with the ghost of a laugh. “Were you guys fucking?” He said like a horny teenager.

[Y/N] laughed hard and kissed her lifelong best friend on top of the head on her way to make a pot of coffee in the kitchen. “No.” Art sighed in disappointment, flopping onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. This disappointment was either disappointment in Patrick for asking, or disappointment in the lack of sex due to Patrick’s arrival. It was Patrick’s fault either way.

When the dog got bored, Cheese wandered into the kitchen for nonexistent scraps. Patrick pulled up a chair next to Art and dropped his backpack on the floor. “How’s it going, man? You look good. Feeling ready?” He asked, leaning forward to tap Art across his bare knee.

Art nodded as if it say it’s a sure thing. “Thanks. We miss you. We appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”

“I appreciate you being here,” [Y/N] cut in. “Because you’re in my half of the wedding party.” She and Art were always in constant competition over who loved Patrick more. Art wanted him to be his best man. [Y/N] won out, though, having known him since the age of seven and Art only since age twelve.

“Ladies please. Not all at once.” Patrick said. He stood from his chair and wrapped his long arms around [Y/N] in a proper hug finally. Briefly, his chin rested on her head. He stopped before it went on too long.

“Good to see you, kid. How’s it going?” At two months older, [Y/N] had been calling Patrick ‘kid’ diminutively for almost two decades. It was cuter before he got so tall.

“I called you yesterday.” He replied dryly, stepping back to look at her. [Y/N] noted Patrick’s intimately familiar eyes. Too wide, pupils too dilated. Hm. He wore a long sleeved sweater and jeans. And dirty tennis shoes.

“You bring something nicer than this for Saturday?” She teased, pulling on one of his holey sleeves.

Art snorted at Patrick’s expense and cracked a smile. His freckled elbows leaned onto the counter. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here for two seconds, ‘n you’re already giving me tsuris?” Patrick quipped to [Y/N].

“Tsuris… Never thought I’d say it, but you sound like your mom, Patrick.” [Y/N] scoffed. Art snorted a laugh too.

Patrick frowned. “Guess I have to kill myself then.” He joked harshly to more laughter from the other two. M

“Yep. Have some coffee. Both of you. I’m going to put pants on.” [Y/N] turned away and moved to the stairs.

“Aw, do you have to?” Patrick called after her. [Y/N] tossed a middle finger up over her shoulder as she walked away. Art hissed at Patrick’s comment.

“Do you have to flirt with my wife?” Art sneered without malice.

Patrick smiled that boyish small, wicked, unassuming smile. “She’s not your wife yet.” He snapped back. Art smiled at him in return. The two held each other’s gaze adorned with sick grins for a moment before both of them dissolved into laughter. Everything was a competition, but it was only real if they brought it up.

Fast forward a few hours and Patrick and [Y/N] were in the car. Art had taken off for a haircut because his mom thought he looked like a messy little punk and wedding pictures were forever. [Y/N] drove because Patrick drove too fast and without mercy. He had a sports car once when he was in school and still spoke to his parents daily and had notably wrapped it around a telephone pole and walked out without nary a scratch. How’s that for nine lives?

[Y/N] had a sedan.

She and Patrick both held a cigarette out each of their respective windows as she drove.

“You should really quit, y’know.” She told Patrick.

He leaned over and blew smoke in her face. “Yeah, I’ll quit when you do.”

Patrick’s rude gesture didn’t bear acknowledging. “It’s different. You’re an athlete. I watch movies and review them for a living. It’s expected of me. You… you’re making your performance actively worse. You’re kneecapping yourself by choice.” [Y/N] explained.

“I’m good enough to take the hit.”

[Y/N] laughed and took a drag of her cigarette, asking it out the window. “And you’re arrogant enough to make that comment. Sometimes I look at you and you’re still thirteen. I swear to God. It’s fuckin’ funny,” she said. It was quiet for a moment. “Art, though. He doesn’t smoke anymore.”

“I don’t believe you,” Patrick replied immediately with a wild look in his eye. That was apparently a big surprise. “He’s totally lying to you. There’s no way—“

“Nope! Quit on his own too. He just decided he was done with it one day and got all pro-athlete about it.”

“Y-you’re wrong! You’re so wrong. He’s a liar. Last time I was in town, we—“

“No. No fucking way,” [Y/N] shook her head in manic disbelief. “When you came by to—“

“Mhm. Yep. On the patio. You didn’t notice?”

[Y/N] shook her head. “No sense of smell because of… I’m a smoker. I just… He’s such a shit.”

“A shit and a hypocrite!” They both laughed. When the glee dampened naturally and the cigarette butts were pitched out the window, Patrick looked over at [Y/N]. One good, long look. “You ready for Saturday?” Patrick asked because he was a masochist.

[Y/N] found herself often thinking back on this moment. Was this when it had gone wrong beyond repair?

[Y/N] sighed. She would only ever tell Patrick and maybe Art this. “Yes and no.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t say it like that. I have been ready to marry Art since I was, like, seventeen years old. It is unfathomable to me how much love I am capable of giving him, y’know? If he wanted the Mona Lisa, I’d be robbing the Louvre tomorrow. He’s it for me,” she said. Patrick faked a smile very convincingly and nodded for her to go on. “What I’m not looking forward to is everyone I know being in the same room at the same time. I don’t like other people except you and Art. And my editor. That’s about it.”

“You’re not at all worried about spending all that time married to someone?” Patrick tried to jab at her with his words while he scratched his right forearm.

“Not with Art.”

“Wow. That’s awfully grownup of you.”

“Yeah, well. I’m a grownup. With a smokin’ hot fiancé. And he actually cares if I live or die. Isn’t that crazy? My parents weren’t like that with each other. It’s… Am I allowed to say how grateful I am to you for bringing him home for break that one time, or is that stupid?”

“It’s kinda stupid,” he agreed teasingly. In reality, he wanted more than anything to put himself out of his misery. My fault, my fault, my fault. The words looped in Patrick’s head on constant repeat. He wanted to rip his skin off for so many different reasons. He couldn’t take it and he was trapped. Fuck.

Patrick scratched his right forearm again.

“Truth or dare?” Patrick slurred. He was twenty-one and drunk for [Y/N]’s birthday. She, Art and Patrick sat on the disgusting archaic carpet in Art’s dorm room.

“Uh, truth.” [Y/N] said too soberly to sober.

“Boring!” Art said, putting his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh.

Patrick took a long swing of his beer while he thought. “Okay, okay. What’s your weirdest sexual fantasy?” He asked.

“Ew.” [Y/N] wrinkled her nose.

Art thought the question was epic, but wasn’t going to facilitate his girl’s discomfort. “Hey, it’s her birthday, she doesn’t have to—“

“Um, no. I’ll do it. This is an actual dream I had. I think about it kinda all the time. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. It so dumb. So, it’s Art and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with coffee or something. And Art… sings me Happy Birthday like Marilyn Monroe did for JFK. And he’s dressed like Marilyn, but like a boy. No dress, but like the boy version of that look. Then we fuck. That’s weirder than you wanted. That was weird, right?” [Y/N] rambled.

Art leaned in closer to her. They were all drunk as skunks and he couldn’t help bite his lip. His arm pulled her closer to him. Art was handsy when drunk, they were all learning.

“Whose Jackie O?” Patrick asked.

“No Jackie O. And I’m not JFK. He’s just Marilyn. Gentlewomen prefer blondes.” [Y/N] had laughed so hard at that while she tangled her fingers in Art’s sandy hair.

The car ride to get cake and the drive back was the last proper conversation [Y/N] and Patrick had. The pair got home. Nothing seemed unusual to [Y/N] at all. They talked the whole time without any dry spells. The cake, in pieces to be assembled, was carefully toted in and placed way out of the way from disaster. Patrick took his bag to the bathroom, claiming he was going to shower.

[Y/N] shouted after him. “You know where the towels are!”

Patrick looked back over his shoulder at her with a smirk and closed the bathroom door behind him.

And he went out through the bathroom window.

[Y/N] had no idea he had gone until she heard his car start. For a minute, she thought it was the neighbors. She walked halfway down her hallway and saw the bathroom door open. No running shower water, no half nude Patrick shaving or something. She ran back down the hall and glanced out the kitchen window and watched his new white SUV whip out of the driveway.

[Y/N] stood there for several minutes. Staring and staring and staring after him. Not a single effort to move. The first thing she did was pick up her blue slidephone from beside the sink. She called Art, not Patrick. Patrick made his choice.

[Y/N] hadn’t realized she was crying when Art picked up on the other line.

“Honey? Honey, you there? You buttdial me?” Art said. [Y/N] thinks he said shit like that for several moments before she spoke. She just faced the window and stared for what felt like ages.

“Patrick’s gone.”

“Hm?”

“Patrick’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone.”

“He climbed through the bathroom window and drove off. We-we didn’t have a fight. Or-or… He just left. Like it was nothing.”

“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”

Art rushed back in his blue-black jeep wrangler. It ripped into the smooth driveway causing the tires to damn near squeal. When he got out of his car and bounded to the door, it was clear that about half of his hair had been cut instead of all of it. [Y/N] would have laughed in an ideal situation.

“Baby, hey, what happened?” Art said breathlessly as he unlocked the door. [Y/N] sat at the seldom used dining room table the two of them used to hold their junk mail, sitting straight up and looking through Art. Art was alarmed. She never sat at the table and rarely was her face so expressionless. She was always feeling, expressing, something. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were red.

“Patrick seems to have decided not to join us this weekend.” [Y/N] said clearly.

Art closed up the door behind him and walked over to [Y/N]. His scraggly hair and bewildered expression lessened into some devastated softness. He knelt, as he often did, in front of her and took her softer hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened?” Art asked quietly. He felt angry tears sting at the corner of his own traitorous eyes.

“We went out, got the cake, got smoothies, and came back. We… He didn’t say anything weird. Nothing happened.”

“Okay. And then?”

“No, I mean, nothing happened. Like, he was on his best behavior. Like, he was doing so well. He seemed okay. Really okay, y’know?” [Y/N]’s voice broke and finally betrayed her. She choked on her last words and the tears followed. Art’s right hand traveled up the side of [Y/N] face to rest there in comfort. “We talked about everything, like always. He was totally fine. I swear. Then we got home and he says I’m gonna take a shower, or something. And then I heard his car pull away. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Art said, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He stood from the floor and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. Art leaned against the table [Y/N] sat at. He called Patrick. Then he called him again. And another time. Up to what felt like twelve times or so. He left voicemail after voicemail.

“Hey, call me.”

“Hey, it’s Art. Call me.”

“Art again. Call me back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry about the last one. Patrick, call me. Are you coming home?”

“Hey, man. Fuck you. Fuck off.”

“I’m sorry about the last one too. I’m… Understandably, I’m kinda… Fucking pissed at you. I don’t need to talk to you like that, though. Are you okay? Are you safe? What happened? You can talk to me.”

“You’re an asshole. I wish you could see the look on [Y/N]’s face right now.”

“Don’t come back.”

Eventually, the voicemail box was full.

[Y/N] reached wordlessly for Art’s hand. She could feel his rare anger climbing. He got this ridiculous blush across his cheeks when he got angry and she could see it against the sunset’s glow. “Art?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” He said, turning his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry, hon.”

“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize, pretty baby.”

“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. He’s your best friend,” He ranted. “That was a dick move to leave like that. I’m sorry that happened to you. He’s a piece of shit.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No! I do. I do mean that. For the last year, he’s treated us, especially you like trash. Do you not see how much more you deserve, [Y/N]? I don’t know what’s going on with him… Do you?”

“He’s…” [Y/N] looked down. “You think he’s using again?”

Art didn’t say anything, he just looked down. That was answer enough. [Y/N] buried her face in her hands with a shuddering sob. Art pulled her to her feet and into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hold his own tears back. Eventually, the pair landed on the sagging green couch. Art’s legs wrapped around [Y/N]’s middle. They kept the news on all night. In case he matched an accident description. They called hospitals and hunted for John Does that were over six feet with dark hair and stubble.

“What are we gonna do? He’s… He’s not coming back, is he?” [Y/N] whispered. Cheese rested his heavy beige head on her thigh. He obviously didn’t understand why Patrick had gone either.

“No, I don’t think he is,” Art replied, lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry.

Pathetically, [Y/N] raised her head to Art. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.” He said. [Y/N] forced Art to lean back against the couch and she laid her head on his chest. Cheese circled for a new position where he could be touching them both at the same time.

[Y/N] knew it was a little bit her fault. She leaned up and kissed Art on the corner of his lips. “It’s my fault.”

“Then it’s both of our faults. You can’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the only you I’ve got, babe.” Art huffed tiredly.

[Y/N] dug her hands into Art’s hair the way he liked. “Can I fix your haircut? Haircut’s a generous way to describe it.”

“Damn, I was actually trying out this new thing. You don’t think it’s cool?”

“Yeah, it’s big for guys who blindly answer their wife’s phone calls, I hear.” [Y/N] said weakly.

Wife was all Art heard and he melted.

“I have never known someone I love as much as you,” Art said. “I’m all in with you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do.” [Y/N] did know. She sunk her teeth into the freckled skin on Art’s right shoulder gently and he moaned. Over top of the spot, [Y/N] left a trail of kisses down Art’s bicep.

“I’m gonna call his mom.” He said once [Y/N]’s pace had slowed. Art’s stomach growled. When he got upset, he didn’t eat. [Y/N] told herself it was because he had forgotten to in stressful moments, but wondered if it was a punishment instead. She pretending she hadn’t heard the sound.

“They don’t talk.”

“I know. Just in case he turns up.”

Patrick did turn up. About ten hours later, wet and unconscious in the emergency room. Following a psych eval, Patrick went to a short stint in rehab. He had gone once prior at the age of twenty. Needless to say Patrick missed the wedding. It was too much money to up and cancel, according to Art’s piece of shit stepfather, Douglas. Patrick made no efforts to contact the Donaldsons since leaving, as he left or following rehab. Despite all of Art and [Y/N]’s tireless efforts to find him, all they had to show for it was his disconnected phone number and a crippling feeling of shame and loss. Patrick had vanished from their lives without giving either one of them a say.

Patrick was gone.

But Art was there for all of it.

TAGLIST:

@toxiclovergirl @basicallynotbreathing @miniemonie2001 @valentine333 @tremendoushorsepeachbanana-blog @athxnss @babyspice6 @diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @avylanchce @shysstuff @soberbabes @ysuftmikey @pussy-f41ry

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #sorry series #challengers movie #challengers #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig

[heartateasee]

“Safe”

mafia!harry x you

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of a break-in and violence (talks of being bound, and a slap) & talks of death (inflicting death on others)

Plot: While Harry was out of town on business, your home was broken in to, leaving you with some injuries. When Harry comes home to see the state you’re in, he’s beside himself, and he steals you away to his lake house so you can be alone together.

❈❈❈❈

“Where is she?” You heard Harry’s voice from downstairs, and you immediately sat up a little more on the side of your bed. You clutched the mug of warm tea in your still trembling hands - a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“She’s upstairs in your bedroom, but Harry-”

You could hear that Harry’s right-hand man, Elias, was attempting to keep him from coming up the stairs right away, and that he wanted to explain things further, but Harry cut him off.

“Get out of my way, Elias. I need to see her.”

“I understand that, but I need you to listen to me for just a second before you do.”

You flinched as you felt a hand stroking your hair off your face, and you looked over to see the doctor, who Harry always had tending to you if you were sick, standing there. She must’ve come back from the bathroom already like she said, but you hadn’t heard her. You were too focused on your boyfriend’s voice.

“The swelling should go down in a couple of days,” you heard the doctor say, who’s name was completely escaping you right now. She tilted your head to the side a bit, and you watched as her eyebrows narrowed. “There’s already some bruising, but I don’t think it’ll get much worse, if at all.”

Closing your eyes tight, flashbacks of what happened just about an hour ago bled their way back to the forefront of your mind. The back of the hand that forced its way across your cheek. The forcefulness at which your hands were tied behind your back with zip ties. 

Your throat was raw from your screaming, although your mouth was soon duck taped after they realized you weren’t going to stop - no matter what threats they had thrown your way.

The memory of Elias forcing his way into the room was burned into your brain, and once he had taken care of the men who had harmed you, and threatened you, you watched his face soften once he looked at you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, not wasting any more time as he rushed over to you. Turning you on your side from where you were laid on the floor, he got his knife out to rid you of the zip ties, and then he carefully pulled the duck tape from your mouth. “Where else did they hurt you?”

His eyes were focused on your cheek that you knew was already showing signs of violence, but you shook your head.

“Nowhere,” your voice rasped as you answered him. “It’s just my cheek.”

You were drawn out of the horrific flashbacks as you heard Harry’s voice booming downstairs - growing louder. “Where the fuck were my men?!”

“They killed them!” You heard Elias yell back, clearly sick of Harry’s attitude at the moment. “Listen to me…they got in. They killed all seven of the men you had standing guard, and we got lucky because I was coming to check on her like you asked me to. If I hadn’t…”

It was silent after that, and it wasn’t too long that you heard a deep sob. You closed your eyes again as your bottom lip started to wobble. There had only been a handful of times that you had seen Harry cry, and you hated when he did. You wanted nothing more than for Elias to let him upstairs to see you so you could hold him.

“Please just-” Harry choked out, pausing for a moment, and you could tell he was trying to get himself together. “Please just tell me that she’s okay.”

“She’s okay,” Elias’ voice was now soft as he responded. “She is hurt, but it could’ve been a lot worse. Her face, and her wrists. They’re bruised.”

More silence followed until you heard a large crashing, and you knew it was coming from the living room area. You jumped - almost spilling your tea at the sudden sound. Another loud crash caused you to flinch, remembering those same sounds happening just moments ago, but not at the hands of Harry.

“Fuck!” His voice echoed off the walls, and you set your tea down on your nightstand.

You needed to go to him. You needed to show him you were okay.

“Slowly,” the doctor whispered next to you as she started to help you off the bed once she could tell you were trying to stand.

The blanket dropped from your shoulders - leaving you in one of Harry’s large t-shirts, and some wool socks on your feet. When the doctor showed and asked if you wanted to change out of the dress you had been wearing when you got home, the one you had worn to work, you immediately grabbed Harry's things. You wanted to feel close to him.

Helping you carefully down the steps, the doctor remained by your side until you reached the foyer, and from there your movement had caught Elias’ attention. He held his hand out for you, which you took without question, and the doctor took that as her sign to go ahead and leave for the night. She had already told you earlier that she was only a phone call away if you needed anything else.

Elias led you into the living room, Harry’s back to you as he stood in front of the bar cart. You could see he was downing a glass of whisky, and he wasted no time in filling it right back up.

“Harry,” Elias said as the two of you stood in the middle of the room, and you watched as Harry shook his head.

“I don’t want to hear anyone else’s goddamn voice tonight unless it’s my-”

Harry stopped talking once he turned around and saw you standing there, and he froze. His eyes trailed down your body - looking for injuries, and they darkened once they got to your face.

“I’ll leave you two for the evening,” Elias said as he released your hand, but not before giving it a small squeeze. “I’m just a phone call away, if needed. That goes for the both of you.”

Tearing your eyes away from Harry, you looked to Elias and gave him a nod. “Thank you. For everything.”

Elias returned your nod, pulling you in quickly for a hug - pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. Once he released you, he exited the house.

Now it was just you and Harry inside, and you weren’t sure how many new guards he had standing outside.

You continued to stare at each other for a moment before Harry turned around to face the bar cart again, and you swallowed harshly. 

You walked forward and gently placed your hand on his back - slowly lowering your head to rest your forehead between his shoulder blades.

“Harry,” you whispered, and you felt his body tense at the condition of your voice. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Harry shook his head, placing his glass down as he clutched the sides of the cart. “If I had been here, or if I had just taken you with me, none of this would’ve happened. And you begged me to take you, but I didn’t listen.”

“I didn’t beg you to take me because I thought this was going to happen. I begged because I missed you, so please don’t put that on yourself,” you told him, but he was quickly moving away from you.

You dropped your hands by your side as you watched him, tears forming in your eyes. 

Maybe this was it. Maybe this is the time he realized that your relationship isn’t worth all of this. That you’re not worth all of this.

“Alright,” you said, mostly talking out loud to yourself as you nodded. “I’m going to go pack a bag.”

You didn’t even make it to the staircase before you felt Harry’s hands cupping the outsides of your arms, and he carefully turned you around. “Y/N,” you looked up to see tears of his own in his eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Slowly, he lifted his hand to brush the back of his fingers against your tender cheek - not enough pressure applied to have it hurt you. He then grazed his thumb over the split in the corner of your mouth before looking down to your wrists.

He lifted them in his large hands, and brought each one to his mouth - pressing kisses against your bruises.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he shut his eyes tight, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

Shaking your head, you went to pull your wrists away to cup Harry’s face in your hands, but you didn’t have the chance to as he fell to his knees. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he buried his face into your stomach. “I promise you that this will never happen again.”

Streams of tears now flooded down your cheeks as you ran your fingers through Harry’s hair, feeling him sob against your torso. You then wrapped your forearms around his neck, and cradled his head in your hands as you leaned down to rest your cheek against the top of it.

“I know, Harry,” you spoke softly to try and keep him as calm as possible, sniffing as you tried to force your tears back. “But it’s okay. I’m safe, and now you’re here. You’re home with me, and that’s all that matters.”

You hadn’t noticed the state of the house until you quickly flicked your eyes around the living room, and you knew these damages weren’t just from Harry when he got home. They had destroyed your home in the process of trying to destroy you. Trying to destroy him.

Harry looked up at you, and you sent him a gentle smile as you pushed stray curls off of his forehead. “How about we go to the lake house?” He asked, licking over his bottom lip. “I don’t want to stay here tonight, and I’m sure you don’t either. I’ll have someone come in and clean this all up so that when we come back, it’ll be like nothing ever happened. How does that sound, my love?”

You nodded at him, and you held his forearms as he picked himself up off the ground. “I would like that very much.”

Harry took your hand in his as he guided the both of you back up the stairs, and he was quick to pull a large suitcase out of the closet for the two of you to share. “Pack however much you want. We’ll stay however long you want to.”

Moving around the room, you packed several pairs of pajamas, a couple of bikinis and some light sundresses. You packed two pairs of sandals and your slippers, and then you smiled over at him as he packed his own things.

Neither of you bothered with toiletries, knowing you had everything you needed in that aspect already at the lake house. 

It was late, and it was going to be at least a two hour drive to get there, but Harry didn’t care. He wanted to get you away from all this for however long you needed. 

He’d have men cover for him while away, Elias being the main one. He trusted him, even now more than ever after what he did for you. Harry knew that he could handle taking over for a few days, or even weeks.

Pulling his phone out, Harry made a phone call to have a couple of security guys follow you on the way to the lake house, and they’d remain there during your time together to keep watch over everything. 

“Ready, honey?” You asked him once he was off the phone, trailing your fingertips over the back of one of his hands before taking it between both of your own.

“Ready.”

❈❈❈❈

You and Harry had been at the lake house for four days now, and you were feeling much better about everything. Your wrists were fully healed, and the bruising on your cheek was starting to fade completely.

Harry was still acting a bit distant, but not physically, at least. He held you close at night, and was right by your side around the house, but emotionally, he had changed. You knew he was still blaming himself for what happened back at home - no matter how many times you told him that he shouldn’t.

So today, as you stood in the kitchen, cleaning up your dishes from lunch, your eyes were set on Harry through the window above the sink as he stood on the back porch. He was on a phone call, one of the many he’s taken while being here, and you knew he was probably speaking with Elias.

You finished up the dishes, and you pulled the sliding door open to join him - your bare feet meeting the warm wooden porch. You weren’t sure if Harry heard you coming out as he continued his conversation without hesitance.

“Elias, I’m telling you right now,” Harry’s voice was low, and firm as he spoke. “I don’t give a fuck how many men we have to send. We’ve found him, and I want him, and anyone else involved in the terror they put my girl through, dead. Is that clear enough for you?”

You halted your footsteps upon hearing his demand, and you took a minute to truly process what you heard. You knew what Harry did. He tried to keep most of it a secret from you for a while, but one of your biggest fights ever was you threatening to leave if he wasn’t completely honest with you.

That occurred about six months into your relationship, and he came clean about everything - laid it all out on the table. He made it clear when he did that if you wanted to still leave now that you knew who he truly was, he wouldn’t stop you. But you didn’t.

You loved each other, and you were sure he was the love of your life.

But now, even two years after that conversation occurred, it still shocked you sometimes to hear him asking for the death of others.

“Great, thank you,” Harry said into the phone, and even though that tone was sarcastic, it soon shifted as he spoke his next words. “And I know I haven’t told you yet, but I’m really grateful that you were able to be there for her that night. Although I wish it had been me to get to her first, if it had to be anyone else, I’m glad it was you.”

Your heart fluttered as you listened in. Harry wasn’t a man to show emotion often, even with you, but every now and then you managed to get that hard exterior of his to crack. But the fact that he was displaying his emotions to someone else, it made you happy - even if the circumstances were grim.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s not get too sappy, alright?” Harry responded playfully to whatever Elias said, and it caused you to smile. “Stay safe, and we’ll talk soon.”

As Harry ended the call, he let out a hefty sigh before turning around - pausing as he saw you.

“Hi,” he cleared his throat, slipping his phone into his pocket. “How much of that did you hear?”

“A good amount,” you shrugged, not wanting to lie to him. “So you found him?”

Harry nodded as he walked forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes lingered on your cheek, just as they had several moments a day throughout your time here, before he met your eyes.

“We did. And we’ll be taking care of it.”

A chill ran through your spine at his words, and as much as you knew that hearing them should scare you - you weren’t scared at all. Not around Harry. Never around Harry.

“Okay,” you lifted your hands to rest on his chest. You stroked your thumbs against his skin through the material of the t-shirt he had on. He had been dressing casual since you had been here, something you weren’t used to, but you loved it. “Do you want to go for a swim? We haven’t gone yet.”

You could see the contemplation in Harry’s eyes, and just when you thought he was about to deny you, a smile pushed onto his lips. “A swim sounds nice. Did you pack your pink bikini? The one with the white hearts.”

Your stomach swirled, and you giggled. “I did. I’m guessing you’d like for me to wear that one?”

“Only if you want to, Y/N, but I do particularly love that one.”

“Then I’ll wear it,” you pressed onto your tiptoes to let your lips gently brush over his. “Just for you.”

Pulling away, you leave him stunned on the porch, and you smirked to yourself as you entered the bedroom of the house. Just that small interaction had you feeling like things were getting back to normal for the two of you.

You grabbed the much wanted bathing suit from the suitcase before slipping into the en-suite to change. After a moment, you heard Harry rummaging around in the bedroom, and you knew he was changing into his swim trunks. Once you had the bottoms on, and the top around your neck, you exited the en-suite and turned around once you were next to him.

“Can you tie this for me, please?” You asked sweetly, moving all of your hair over your shoulder to give him proper access.

Harry’s fingertips skated up your back before you felt him tying a secure knot against your spine. Once he was finished, he leaned down to press a kiss against your bare shoulder. “So pretty, and soft. I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Yours,” you whispered as you turned around - wrapping your arms around his neck. “Always all yours, and only yours.”

After separating and gathering the rest of the supplies needed for your time down at the lake, you and Harry started down the pathway that started right off the back porch. Sunglasses were perched on both of your noses, and your fingers were interlocked as your feet crunched against the rocks.

It wasn’t too hot today, but it was hot enough where the water would be a relief, and you wouldn’t get too cold once you got out. 

Once you made it down to the edge of the lake, you and Harry spread your towels out over the rocks, and you pulled a t-shirt of his that you used as a cover-up over your head. You tossed it down onto your towel along with your sunglasses before looking over to Harry.

“I’ll race you,” you winked, and you watched his eyebrows raise from behind his sunglasses.

He was quick to remove his own eyewear, and shirt as well, before the two of you turned to face the lake.

“On three,” you stated with a nod. “One, two-”

Before you even said three, you jetted off towards the water, and you heard Harry’s voice calling from behind you.

“You cheater!” He exclaimed as you ran through the shallow part of the lake, looking over your shoulder to see him closing in on you quickly. “Oh, you’re in for it, love.”

You squealed as you tried to tread through the water faster, but it was no use, and you soon felt his muscular, and inked, arms capturing your waist. Giggles flooded from your lungs as he lifted you out of the water, and he moved one arm down to carry your bridal style as he went out further.

Soon you found yourselves in the deepest part of the lake, and you skillfully shifted yourself around to where your legs were around his torso - one of your hands on his shoulder while the other ran through the back of his curls.

The sun was gleaming against his emerald eyes so perfectly, and you could already see freckles on his shoulders that were usually hidden coming to life just from the small amount of rays kissing his skin. He was perfect. He was your everything, and you knew you could never be without him.

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” Harry asked, and you nodded.

“I do, and I love you all the same,” you leaned down to place a delicate kiss against his lips, but as you pulled away, you felt Harry’s hand against the back of your neck to keep you close to his face - your foreheads almost touching.

“I’m never going to let anyone touch you again, do you understand? Never again,” his gaze was hard as he stared at you, but it’s because he wanted you to know that he was serious. “You’re always going to be safe with me, and I promise you that.”

“I know, honey,” you nodded, moving your hand from his shoulder to grip to the back of his neck as well, and you inched your head forward so your foreheads were now touching, but you kept holding his eyes.

“You’ll keep me safe. Forever.”

❈❈❈❈

Just a little blurb for you all on this Sunday evening. Let me know if you guys would be interested in seeing more of these two! I fear I’m attached to them already 🤭

❈❈❈❈

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 @lemoncrushh (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles writing #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry fanfic #harry styles fiction #harrystyles #harry #harryedwardstyles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry x you #harry x y/n #harry x reader #mafia!harry #mafia!harry styles #mafia!harrystyles #mafiarry

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream and arguments with them.

AN: the many times o received a scenario of an argument aftermath, i just realized i never wrote a scenario about reader arguing with dream.

Mark Lee

Arguments with Mark are rare cases, but it's always because of a serious matter. It may be because of his career, and priorities or what not. Today, it's about him coming home sick. He explained to you that it's just a fever and it'll come off tomorrow, he just needs to rest because he have a recording tomorrow. Oh you love Mark but this is unhealthy, so some words slipped out of your mouth, like how he should be taking care of himself and how he shouldn't overwork at all. You tried to be concern for him but due to tiredness, it irritated Mark. You two fought for an hour, not even attempting to lower one's pride to say sorry. In the end, you two didn't slept on the same bed. But that night, Mark realized that you're just being concerned about his health. So the next morning, he apologized to you and had a day-off so that he can focus on recovering his health first. 

Huang Renjun

You think of yourself as a strong, independent girl. You always solve problems alone, and you're very used to your own comfort zone. That didn't changed when you met Renjun. You love him enough to let him in your safe space. But sometimes, Renjun can be a tending boyfriend that it may end up him nagging you. One time, he lectured you about how messy your apartment was, and even cleaning it by himself. You explained to him that you couldn't find time because it was hectic week for you, and he doesn't need to lecture you about it. Renjun justified that he was just trying to be helpful, and there, you two argued about it. In the end, Renjun accepted that he was wrong, and he was sorry because his tone may come out as wrong. You apologized too, and you two reconciled! <3

Lee Jeno

It's the little things that may start a war. You love Jeno and you feel so lucky that he's your boyfriend, but there are times where your insecurities struck you at the worst times. So when you found out that he's being shipped with a female idol, your mind just went spiral --- even thinking that he's cheating on you. And as much as Jeno tries to explain it to you that no, he's not cheating on you, and he doesn't even know that female idol. But you won't believe him! Arguments with Jeno doesn't involve any shouting, it may be come in soft voices but dripping with much disappointment. Jeno will be frustrated that you're doubting him, and thinking that low of him to do such thing. It may take a lot of convincing for you to apologize to your boyfriend, and end up crying to him. 

Lee Donghyuck

Arguments with Haechan are a frequent occurrence. It's his love language! He just loves teasing you and bantering with you because you're the type to never back down with him. But today was not the right time for his jokes. It was one of those days that you feel so slumped out that you don't have any energy for anything --- not even your boyfriends' teasing. You told him that you're tired, but Haechan kept going on, even making a joke that wasn't funny at all. It resulted with you shouting back at him. He was surprised with your words but he doesn't want to back down. It resulted to a heated argument that only stopped when you broke down in tears. That's when Haechan realized that he crossed the line, apologizing to you profusely. 

Na Jaemin

Oh you love your boyfriend so much. Jaemin is such a gentleman and he's very sweet too! But sometimes, his jealousy can be a too much! You told him about meeting with an old friend of yours who is a guy and his initial reaction was to be jealous of him. Why do you need to meet with him ALONE. Why does he doesn't know about this guy, and other things. At first you found it cute, until he's telling words like, "all men are same." or "he doesn't look trustworthy." when he hasn't even met your friend. Of course, you defended your friend which resulted him to say, "see!! you're even on his side!" the argument went on, and you didn't talk to Jaemin for a few days until he apologized not only to you, but also to your friend. 

Zhong Chenle

Arguments with Chenle would start because of small things, most of the time it would be because of a disagreement over things. You two are very opinionated about things, and it surely ends up in a heated argument most of the time. In a few weeks, you two will have your 100th days as a couple. You wanted something special, like a dinner date, but Chenle insisted on keeping it private and intimate such as a get-together with his friends. You thought that it wasn't necessary to bring his friends because it supposed to be just the two of you, while Chenle thinks that there's nothing wrong with it. You two fought over it for a few hours, eventually stopping it but not apologizing to each other. It'll take a few days for you two to resolve it and realizing that you two were wrong, and then compromised with each other's idea. 

Park Jisung

Arguments with Jisung are also a rare case. He's just a very chill, laid-back boyfriend who trusts you so much that he wouldn't do anything to start an argument with you. SO in the rare case when you two had an argument, it would be because of emotional stress. It's when both of you are too overwhelmed with everything and you two tried to prove who had it worse between the two of you. It's an immature argument where you'll end up crying and Jisung will not be swoon with your tears, "really? if i cry too will you pity me?" because as much as he wants to sympathize with you, he's going through a tough time too. It ends up with a short cool-off, and when you two are emotionally mature enough to talk, that's when you two reconcile with lots and lots of sorry. 

#nct imagines #nct dream #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct drabbles #nct dream reactions #nct dream imagines #nct mark #nct jeno #nct renjun #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

[teaboot]

What do you do if you feel super stuck and directionless in life and the overwhelm of that stuckness keeps you paralyzed most days?

I get that a lot. Mostly try to remind myself that the feeling is temporary, and that the only real goal is to be comfy and have fun. I'm not grinding to be a famous artist or a billionaire or a pop star- I'm just here to figure out who I am and love people.

Sometimes it helps me to take a nice bath, or clean the house, or grab coffee with a friend and bond over having the same feeling- watch a comfort movie and eat something, too. Do little things that remind me I'm in control.

If it helps at all, you're not alone, and there's always other people looking at you and thinking, "wow, I wish I had my life together like they do."

I do hope you feel better soon, though. Shit sucks.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Cheater (Art Donaldson/Patrick Zweig)

Description: Patrick cheats on Y/N and Tashi cheats on Art.

Warning: Cheating, Implied Smut

Word Count:908

“She’s into Art, and I’m into you. You have nothing to worry about.” 10 years ago, Patrick said those words to Y/N and she believed them. She believed them so much, she let him put a ring on her finger and marry her. That was a big mistake, a mistake that would cost her the next 10 years. She loved Patrick, oh how she loved him. But from the beginning there was something off. She couldn’t tell what it was but once she saw Tashi Duncan it all hit her. Patrick would tell her that he wasn’t into her and that Art was. Art was head over heels for Tashi but that didn’t mean that Patrick wasn’t. Patrick was a player, a womanizer that got away with a lot. He was good looking and he knew that so he used it to his advantage.

Him and Tashi had something that wasn’t love but truth be told Tashi didn’t love anyone. She loved Tennis. So when Patrick was playing in a challengers and saw that Art was there ,he knew Tashi was too. Art saw Y/N with Patrick and couldn’t believe that they were still together. Y/N was a smart woman, what the fuck was she doing with him? Tashi wanted no needed Art to win so she was going to do what she had to do to make it work. Y/N had this sick feeling in her stomach when she saw Tashi and Art. It had been so many years but yet it felt like it was just yesterday. In the steam room Patrick revealed to Art the one thing that he could use against him. Him fucking Tashi while being married to Y/N.

Art wanted to punch him and scream at him. “Yeah when we were teenagers, sure. Or Atlanta.” Art remembers that day that he saw Patrick and Tashi talking. He felt uneasy about it but Tashi told him that they just talked. Patrick just revealed that they fucked. “Y/N, You would do that to her?” Art asked him. “I didn’t want to. It was a mistake. I love Y/N.” Lies, he did want to. “Y/N doesn’t know, does she? Patrick shook his head. “I told myself I would never tell her. I can’t lose her man. I didn’t even expect to tell you but it just came out.” Art was mad, his wife fucked his ex best friend. Who wouldn’t be? He had to find Y/N and tell her. Get her away from Patrick just for a second. Y/N was always with Patrick and the one time she wasn’t he fucked Tashi. Art wasn’t aware of it and nor was Y/N. That was until he came home smelling like another woman.

She put two and two together and pretended to still be asleep. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes but she couldn’t. One day before the final Art had gotten Y/N alone. “I know Art. I know about him cheating with Tashi.” “You know about Atlanta?” Confusion took over her face. “What?” She whispered. “Atlanta, that's when he cheated on you.” She shook her head, “Art.” “What were you talking about?” He asked her. “Last night.” He thought back to when Tashi wasn’t there and he slept with their daughter. “How do you know this?” “He came home smelling like another woman and I've always speculated that he was into her and she’s here so…” He looked at the ground for a solid minute. Neither of them said anything. Atlanta and last night. Patrick cheated on her twice. Tashi cheated on him twice. She looked at Art. “I think we’ve both been played.” She said, he nodded and looked up at her. “For the past 12 years.” Y/N didn’t know how it started but when it ended she felt relief.

She stared up at Art as he stopped thrusting. Both of them breathing heavy and looked fucked out. She had never viewed Art like that until now. “Should we tell them?” Oh he did and only Patrick would get it. It was Patrick’s turn to serve and he kept taking too long. But with the 3 bounces of the tennis ball and him putting the ball up to the center of the racket, Art knew what he was talking about. Art faked being shocked and upset at that. The crowd was confused as was Tashi and Y/N. Patrick got a point and when it was Art’s turn to serve, he did the same thing.

Patrick’s face dropped when he realized that Art meant he slept with Y/N and not Tashi. Patrick looked over at Y/N who looked at him. He looked back at Art and Art hit the ball, in shock Patrick didn’t hit the ball back. The crowd went wild as Art Donaldson won the match. Tashi was so happy but Art didn’t care. He stared at Patrick as Patrick froze. Y/N left the court without looking at Patrick, leaving him there. She got back to the hotel in time to gather her stuff to leave. She placed her wedding ring on the table next to the bed. No note or anything. It appears that whatever the signal was from the racket and ball they did gave away what happened. As she was leaving the hotel room she saw Art. She smiled at him and he smiled at her. Maybe this would bring them closer, maybe they were meant to be all along. 

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #mike faist #josh o'connor #zendaya

[a-mint-bear]

Make Me Yours

Male Yandere x Reader

"I just... really wanna put a collar on a cute guy."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud, but your best friend since middle school had always been super open with this sort of stuff. You've always been the first one she texts when a date goes really well, or really terribly. And a lot of your coffee meetups, like this one, devolve into her oversharing all the juicy details of her relationships.

"Oh wow." She nudged you with a grin. "Didn't know you had it in you!"

Unable to meet her eyes, you try to defend your stray thought. You remind her of some of the jerks you've dated, how their assertive and self-assured personalities had all quickly turned into a bit too aggressive and controlling. In certain situations, in controlled doses... that could lead to a nice time. But it's all fun and games until you try to explain away some of their worse moments to your coworkers and swiftly realize you're in "that kind" of relationship. You wonder if you give off some kind of energy that attracts creeps...

The thought of finding a guy who would not only let you take the reins but maybe even prefer you taking charge? It gave you a little thrill you're almost embarrassed to admit.

"Well, it's nothing to get all twisted up over." she shrugs, taking a sip of her iced latte. "You'll find the right guy that's into that kind of thing."

You smiled, she really was trying to encourage you with this, and it was oddly sweet of her.

"Oh, look!" she scooted closer to you, showing you her phone screen. "There's tons of collars you can get. You thinkin' like leather, classic S&M style? Or somethin' more cutesy?"

Maybe a little too encouraging, sometimes.

~ Somewhere very close by...~

His hands were shaking. Your words were playing on repeat in his head, drowning everything else out.

As if you weren't already perfect. He'd been so jealous of you meeting up with your friend, but if it made this conversation happen so he couldn't be too upset about it. He'd been trying to think of some way to make you his for so long... But being yours? Wearing something like that? Something that said he belonged only to you?

He was already yours. But a little proof never hurt.

. . .

It was late, and you decided to cut through the park to get home quicker. It was a pretty safe area, but you didn't want to be here any longer than you had to be. A few lights lit up the main path and you didn't see anyone else around.

But that didn't mean you were alone.

"Hey..."

You spin around to see... some guy. You'd never met him before, but he was... making A LOT of eye contact.

He was cute though. Soft, fluffy hair and piercings in his ears, his bright eyes poking out from beneath his bangs. And he had at least six inches on you, but not really an intimidating frame, a bit skinny too. The way he was looking at you was making you nervous, but you weren't sure if it was a "Oh, this is unexpected." kind of nervous or a "You're gonna end up in his basement." kind of nervous.

"You probably don't remember me but, uh...we had a few classes together last year and…"

He seemed really nervous himself, trailing off with some color in his cheeks. You tell him politely that you were sorry, but you didn't remember him.

"That's okay, uh..."

He was breathing kind of funny, his eyes still staring into yours. You asked him what he needed, hoping it would speed this along and you could leave.

He took a breath, and all you could do was stare, wondering if you should distract him and make a break for it.

"I... I've liked you. For a long time. It's like... like everything about you is just so... wonderful! Seeing you every day keeps me going! I was okay just watching but then... Sorry, sorry. I'm c-coming on too strong, I..."

He took a step towards you, moving like he was going to touch you, but you instinctively took a step back. He looked a little hurt.

"No, no please, don't be scared! I just... I thought it was the right time... I've been thinking about this for so long! I just wanted to..."

He dropped to his knees and the look in his eyes was almost...like he worshipped you. Like you were everything to him and nothing else mattered. It was a bit overwhelming...

"I heard you talking to your friend the other day. Not, uh, not in a weird way, I swear! I-it's just... It's all I can think about..."

He stared at you, a glimmer of something in his eyes. You could see a tremble in his hands, like he was debating reaching out for you again. But he was holding himself back.

Seeing him kneeling, looking up at you with a want that burned into you... It was doing something to you.

This was a weird, kinda scary, unbelievable situation. But it felt so...

Good.

You felt bold. Deciding to go for broke, you finally spoke again.

You asked him to tell you what he wanted.

You could see the tremble shoot through his frame, the smallest, quietest gasp when the your words finally registered.

"I want... I want you to look down at me, just like this! I want you to run your fingers through my hair and tell me I'm a good boy. Your good boy! I want to cuddle up to you and hear your heartbeat while you hold me, I... I want you to use me... I want you to yank my collar if I get too excited and tell me to behave."

He laughed softly at the thought, this guy was completely smitten.

"I want to be yours, if that'll make you happy..."

He reached into his back pocket, you heard the gentle clink of the collar before you saw it. It was like some kind of odd proposal, except he was down on both knees.

He held it up to you, his eyes clouded with a want that made your face feel hot.

So painfully slowly, you reached out for him, your fingers flinching back for a split second, rational thought desperately trying to break through. But despite all the reasons you could think this was completely crazy, you still wanted this.

You touched his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to lean into your hand with a contented, dreamy sigh.

The power he was giving you was... new, exciting, maybe a bit intoxicating. And he was offering it all so willingly, you wondered if this was all a dream.

"I wanna be your good boy..." His voice was soft but pleading, almost desperate. "Please..."

His smile was making your brain feel fuzzy, seeing him looking up at you like you were his whole world.

"Make me yours."

#this one's a little self-indulgent lol #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere oc #yandere male #yandere boy #subby yandere #wondering if I should start naming these guys and gals #so i can do part 2s with the same characters #this one's been nearly done and in my drafts for a while #job hunting is long and tiring y'all

[motelofmermaids]

part ii of this ♡︎ (+18)

notes: dbf! james kelly… reader is in her early 20s & james is 36, dddne, reader’s dad is a drunk & kinda sexist. reader is a virgin. slight daddy kink if you squint… this part is longer! there’s a buildup!

(i was not expecting people to want a part two! omg! thank y’all so dearly & i hope y’all enjoy ♥︎) (if you see any grammar mistakes… no you didn’t… 😇 #englishmajor)

when the door opened, you were holding two beers, doe-like eyes wide and skin flushed warm. “james?” your tone was quiet, shy… whiny? he looked down at you, eyebrows knitting together as he parted his lips to speak, fearing you heard him. but before the tension could even be fully formed, frankie yelled some incoherent bullshit from the kitchen—somethin’ about a beer, and he pulled his gaze away from you. fuck, he jus’ couldn’t do this. not right now. so like any sensible man out there who fantasizes about fucking his friend’s young and sweet daughter, james excuses himself. shaking his head slightly, eyeing you one last time, his legs move—fast. he goes straight for the front door ‘n leaves, the screen door slamming shut behind him.

that was three days ago, and you haven’t seen james come ‘round. you lie on your bed, kicking your legs gently as you stare at the photo on your dresser. you, james, and your dad. james… you wanted to cry, wondering why he left like that after seein’ you. you can’t help but wonder if you did something. he appeared so conflicted… so disgusted, but the way he looked at you? james looked at you as if you were delicious, like a sweet apple pie on a summer’s day. did he… find you pretty? the thought alone makes your body melt into the bed, your thighs clenching together gently. it’s such a conflicting concept that you can’t ignore now.

it’s been a week now, but you know he’ll be over soon. seven days without seeing him… without james. even your dad was confused, given he was always a little hazy, of the absence of james kelly. a lot of time to think, to pick apart interactions and behaviors, time to have your hand trace your body, play with your sensitive lil’ clit and pretend it’s him. time to imagine him above you, tellin’ you things that would need to be confessed to a priest. you lingered around your dad, mentioning james every once in a while, asking when he’ll be over for the game. ‘so… when does the game start again? and he’ll be over before that, right?’ already three beers in, your dad just smiles and tells you he should be here in an hour.

you spend the next hour dolling yourself up for a thirty-six year old. a thirty-six year old who practically helped raise you—which should disgust you, it really should, but he cared for you so deeply. by the time you had finished your hair and makeup, picking out another slip dress—shorter, pink, and lacy—james was helping himself into your home. you heard him, calling out for your dad and telling him to ‘turn the damn TV on!’ you slipped on your pink slippers and made your way downstairs, trying to control your breathing.

your dad was already seated on the couch, finishing the beer in his hand. and james? he must’ve been in the bathroom, because the six pack he brought was sittin’ on the table and he was nowhere to be found. so, you took it upon yourself to unbox the beers and put them in the fridge, bending over as you do so—your dress riding up your thighs. you hear the bathroom door open and click shut, shoes hitting the floor as james walked and it forced you to stand upright and turn around. he was lookin’ at you, a disapproving expression on his face. “what are you doing?” his voice was quiet, and he licks his lips as he looks over to the couch. “‘m putting the beers away…? sorry—was i not supposed to?” and he wants to rip his hair out, his gaze back on you and traveling down your body. “this… this is the problem,” he starts, large hands reaching to adjust your dress that had ridden up. “d’you usually have your panties on full display?”

and it clicks. it finally sets into place… you were right. james did think you were pretty. but it was more than that. james wanted you, with the way his hands lingered and how he swallowed real hard when he pulled back and put distance between you two. you blink, processing the hundreds of thoughts consuming your mind. you can play this game, you decide—and you can play it good. you shake your head softly, a small pout gracing your lips as you hand james a beer. “sorry, i don’t know what you’re talking about… i’ve always dressed like this.” closing the fridge, you walk over to the couch to sit in the middle.

james—poor, poor james—he was fed up already. he watched as you made yourself comfortable on the couch, crossing your legs as you stared at the TV with that fuckin’ smile on your face. oh, he wanted to put you in your place, have your mouth be useful for once as you choked on his cock. it was a thought that made his stomach hurt. irritated, he walked over and sat next to you, eyes never once meeting yours as he opened his canned beer. it didn’t take long for the game to start, and as much as you didn’t care about football, both your dad and james were immersed. yelling at the screen, throwing their hands up… you jus’ rolled your eyes.

“there’s a reason girls like you don’t enjoy football,” your dad slurred out, patting you on the shoulder. “it’s because men like these are big, strong, and dominant—y’all don’t like that shit anymore.” he isn’t making any sense, but it was enough to make you snappy. “seriously? that guy?” you point at the screen, giggling as you side eye your dad. “he’s smaller than james… i could take it.” and james nearly chokes on his cheap beer, eyebrows knitting together as his head snaps to look at you. he just wants to get up and leave at this point, but all your dad does is shrug and say, “ain’t that right, jimmy?!”

“hey, be a peach ‘n get another beer for your old man.” your dad mumbles after a silent ten minutes, eyes heavy as he mindlessly stares at the television. he unabashedly adds, “see, this is what women are made for! to please—and my sweet has always been a big pleaser… surprised no man has snatched her up…” you stand up, slippers quietly pattering against the floor as you walk to the kitchen to grab another can. when you return, two beers in hand for your dad—because ‘another’ usually means two—you dramatically sigh. “‘m surprised, too… i mean, i am the sweetest girl in town. right, daddy?” but you weren’t lookin’ at your dad. no, you were staring at james with that innocent little smile adorning your beautiful face, and he had the grip the handle of the couch because he was fucking exasperated.

“well… ‘m gonna go now. this is extremely boring,” you chew on your bottom lip in an attempt to hide how pleased you were with james’ reactions. turning on your toes, you walk down the hall to the stairs as you sway your hips. and james has had enough, moving on his feet quickly and waving off your barely conscious father as he followed you to the bottom of the stairs. he corners you into a wall, forcing a small gasp out of your lips. “you don’t even,” he inhales sharply, stepping closer as he points a finger at you. his jaw clenches, his voice low and accusatory. “you don’t even know what you’re doin’, doll.” the tip of his finger digs into your chest as he leans in closer. and you bat your eyelashes at him, your back pressed against the wall as you stutter over your words. “don’t know what you’re talking about…”

and he laughs in your face, all frustrated ‘n deep and your legs nearly give out. your face feels like it’s on fire, and your thighs clench together because you’re so, so wet for him. “what? you’re gonna act as if you didn’t just call me ‘daddy’ like some cheap hooker?” after a moment, he sighs out your name, his knee moving to slowly spread your legs apart. “you’re makin’ me feel crazy.” and it nearly makes you whine, the way he says it—deep and breathy. leaning down, his lips meet your neck gently, before he quickly pulls away to look down the hall. your father was already snoring, how perfect.

“james,” you whimper quietly, both of you staring at each other before the tension finally breaks—and he leans in to kiss you. it’s rough and passionate, just like james. he groans against your lips—soft and plump—and he was losing it. his hands come up to cup your cheeks, and you flutter your eyes shut at how breathless he’s already left you, your heartbeat pounding against your chest. he furrows his eyebrows, his lips moving aggressively against yours as your hands grip at his unbuttoned over-shirt, creating fists as you pull him closer to you. his tatted hand moves down from your cheek to the curves of your breasts, to your stomach, and slipping underneath your slip dress. he pulls away, barely so, his lips ghosting yours as he opens his mouth to let out a strained, “fuck, baby…”

his fingers gently trace the damp spot of your panties, and he sharply inhales through his nose. “this all f’me? so fuckin’ wet,” his eyes are half-lidded as he gazes down at you, taking in the way you can barely form a coherent thought as he slowly slips the fabric aside to run his fingers through your soaked folds. “you ever been touched like this?” he asks in a whisper and you shake your head, your eyes opening to look into his and james swears this is what an angel looks like. your eyes are so heavenly, wide and doe-like, your plump and stained red lips are parted as you let out shaky puffs of air. and your body, fuck, he cannot get enough. his other hand, still on your cheek, moves until his thumb is running along your bottom lip. “do you wanna stop?” you shake your head again.

he nods his head slowly, his lips curling up. and suddenly his hand, large and scented strongly of cigarettes and oil, is covering your mouth. his fingers move slowly, sliding between your slicked folds and teasing your clit—your eyelashes fluttering at the feeling. “sorry, doll… as much as i’d love to hear your voice, we don’t wanna wake up your real daddy.” your moan is muffled when his fingers rub against your clit, his calloused fingers moving so perfectly that you swear you see stars, and james moves so close that he’s caged you against him and the wall. your grip on his shirt tightens, your eyes on his—deep, blue, and piercing—as he finally slips a finger in your tight, sopping cunt.

you watch as james grits his teeth, muttering something about being ‘so fuckin’ tight,’ as he stuffs another finger inside your heat, slowly moving them so you can feel his long fingers reach places that yours could never. it was too much, yet so little. he needed to be inside you, needed to taste you… to fuck you proper. but he was nice, having a soft spot for you, and wouldn’t let your first time be against a wall while your dad was passed out on the couch down the hall. james’ cock was straining against his pants, hard and throbbing and begging to abuse that little pussy of yours, but he was nice. for now, he’s content with fingering you, giving you a sweet taste of what it’s like to be treated right.

“next time,” he starts, his movements faster and more punctuated, “‘m gonna use my cock… it’ll feel s’good, bein’ stretched out and taken care of.” next time? your heart flutters at the thought, your mewls and begs quieted as you feel the warmth low in your stomach grow. your legs begin to tremble, the stimulation of both his touch and words leaving you drooling against his hand. james leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “you gonna come, doll? that’s it. come on my fingers, be good for me. you’re always such a pleaser, right?” and your walls clench tightly around his digits as your body tenses up, your orgasm leaving you lightheaded and soundless.

his fingers slow down before completely pulling out—leaving you feelin’ empty—but instead of giving you the chance to calm down, he rubs your puffy clit, your hips trying to squirm away from the sensation. you breathe heavily through your nose, one of your hands quickly moving to grip james’ wrist as you feel yourself become overstimulated, whining softly and eyes pleading. he licks his lips, before hesitantly stepping back from you, taking his hand away from your mouth as you slump against the wall. “james,” you whine dumbly, tone high-pitched and so fuckin’ sweet; your mind hazy as you look up at him through your lashes. he can’t help himself, of course he can’t, not when it comes to you. he closes the distance once more, kissing you quiet.

when he pulls away, he adjusts your dress, tapping your thigh gently. “go upstairs and rest,” he mutters, his breathing just as ragged as yours. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

and you will… ❤︎︎

#kel’s concepts ♡︎ #james kelly #james kelly x reader #james kelly x you #james kelly smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin smut #james kelly is my man #i need to repent #and pray

[lovemomhatepolice]

charles leclerc swf alphabet

navigation taglist requests

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Charles is a very affectionate person. Regardless of whether you are alone or around other people. It also doesn't matter to him if there are paparazzi or fans around. Showing affection is very important to him. He even has his arm around you all the time - whether it's around your waist or around your shoulders. He likes to feel that you are next to him and wants to show it himself, too.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Hm, as a friend Charles is someone everyone would like to have. Literally. Leclerc is able to do anything for his friends. Help clean up after a party? He's already the first one there. Having a hard time in life? Oh, don't worry, Charles has it under control and is already on his way to you - if you feel like it of course. A man will never be able to cross someone else's boundaries.

How did it start? I think Charles is the kind of person who can create a friendship literally out of the silliest situation that could be. How about a simple meeting in a coffee shop when they mixed up your orders? Or a meeting among the same friends? That's definitely the key to success.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) He loves to cuddle!!! Especially when he is sad or misses you a lot when you were not next to each other. Although he likes to show affection in front of others, when it comes to hugging, it is a more private sphere. When you are alone, he usually cuddles you to his chest (especially at night) or is a little spooner (he loves it) when you cuddle on the couch. Charles is also a fan of hugging you from the side - his arm around your shoulders, that is.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) I think slowly yes. Charles has been in several relationships in his life, but only with you did he feel that it was time to settle down. It is known, he is still young, after all, he is 27 years old, however, every year he glances more and more towards creating a home nest with you somewhere in Monaco. Well, in cooking he is not perfect, but he likes to help. More often than not, however, he cleans, oh he really likes to clean together with you. You share rooms, that's why it always goes faster for you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Something quiet. Charles knows very well what it's up against. Social media, mass of hate, comments…. With each passing time, these breakups, as well as the relationship itself, are more private. Of course, it is not hidden, however, more protected. And privately I think Charles tries to handle it gently, with respect for the other person.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) For Charles, a proposal is something big, it's not like simply giving a ring and that's it. I think he would definitely prepare something big, but private. I also think he would have been advised by his brothers when it came to the whole pre-engagement thing. How soon? Ay, definitely not as fast as one might expect, for him it must take a long time before he takes this step.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Charles is very subtle with you, as well as with others. Never in his life has he said such words to you that would hurt you somewhere more, or touched you in a way that could offend you He always wants the best for you and treats you like glass

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) As I mentioned. Charles likes to hug - sometimes, especially in the beginning it can be something like black magic for him and looks very comical, but it gets better with time (please tell me you've seen all those edits where they show Charles hugging people in an awkward way, I'm crying)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Yup, it took him a long time - you kissed faster than it came to the utterance of these words, what's more! You were the first to say them, because you were already fed up with his procrastination - you threw everything on one card and acctually, it worked out

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) The man is jealous. He may not show it, but he's jealous, dammit. Even of Arthur, although less so here He always has his hand on you somewhere or his watchful gaze And if his jealousy scale kicks in (very quickly) he wants to take you away from that person at all costs or just cozies up

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) His kisses mainly depend on whether he is wearing facial hair or not. If he has - there is a lot of laughter at it, by the fact that he tickles you, however, when he doesn't have one, you completely give yourself away to pleasure. The most you both enjoy is just kissing each other on the lips, it gives you a lot of comfort after a long day. However, he also likes to kiss you on the belly when you are lying down together, and he himself likes to be kissed on the neck. He loves it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Totally like daddy material! The kids love him, and he loves the kids. He knows well how to take care of them, even though he hasn't had much exposure to them in his life, and he loves it when he has the opportunity to do so

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Mornings with Charles are hardcore - even when you have the chance to spend them just the two of them. This man is always in a hurry, he has a lot of things to do and to get up together, it really must be a miracle I don't even mention eating breakfast.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Oh, evenings are definitely your time. You always spend it together, no matter what the day was like. You prepare or order food together, sometimes you drink wine. You must watch a movie or at least an episode of a TV series (depending on how much time you have and how tired you are) and often take baths together. It's time for you to calm down and get ready for bed, before which you talk for a long time

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Charles was attentive, as in any relationship he starts or even already has. I think he is well aware that many people want to take advantage of him because of the benefits. That's why he opened up to you slowly and it took him a long time to trust you 100%, but when he did, he was very happy

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) He's patient - ha, well after all he works with the Ferrari team, if he wasn't so patient he probably wouldn't have been there long ago (pardon the situational joke) Coming back, to you he has great patience, I really don't know what it would take to bring him out of it

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Fifty fifty Charles definitely does not remember dates, although your birthday and your anniversary he tried to forge by heart (poor result), but small details about you are with him forged in such a place to which nothing and no one has access Will you mention your favorite flowers? Have them on the table the next day Favorite drink? Always fresh whenever you feel like it

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) Definitely one of the first dates, where you took him to your favorite childhood spot and just lay there on the grass and talked about various topics - it was there that he opened up about his dad and Jules, and you gave him a comfort he hadn't felt in a long time Later you ended up at your house, snuggled together on the couch, watching his favorite movie, which soon became yours as well (there will be a chapter of this in the relationship series!!)

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He is protective, very protective. By virtue of the fact that you have a relationship with him, you face a mass of hate - in many cases unjustified. Leclerc has therefore been tempted more than once to clarify some issues with his fans. In the real world, not the media world, he is also protective.

No one will lay a hand on you in an inappropriate way or speak to you that way, because they are immediately next to you. How would he himself like to be protected? Ah, he pretends he doesn't need it, however, he likes it when you make rude comments that are thrown at him. Or when he gets into an argument with someone on the team over wrongful accusations and suddenly you step in, defending him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) He is making a huge effort. Leclerc is a perfectionist, so everything at his place must be buttoned up to the last button. Maybe sometimes he will forget a date, such as your anniversary, but then he tries to make up for it and it definitely helps.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Emm, I get the impression that Charles can be a bit selfish or complacent at times. Let's not lie to ourselves, social media can mess with your head quite a bit and Charles is a good example of that, unfortunately. That's why sometimes you have to bring him down to earth, so that fame doesn't go to his head

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He focuses on his appearance, no question about it. Over time, he has started to dress better, which can be seen without batting an eye (well, I beg you, who among you doesn't remember his tragic outfits of a few years ago), and he tries to keep his hair and facial in good condition

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) Yes, I think he would feel that way. You were the one who let him settle down by your side and showed him yet another vision of life that he hadn't seen until now. Together you make a really strong couple, and by not giving it to so much media remark, it definitely helps.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) One of the things that literally knocks him off his feet is your contact with his family. You've single-handedly started learning French to better communicate with them (if you speak French, forgive me) and Charles is fascinated by you. From the first meeting of yours with his mother, he knew you were the only one

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Charles doesn't like to lose - he often doesn't show it, but it's definitely one of the things that affects him the most. He takes it very much to heart, which makes him try several times harder later on - which has its pros and cons. In people, he very much dislikes hypocrisy and taking advantage of others, which is also what guides him when he meets others

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Charles has trouble sleeping. Due to the experiences he went through when he was a young man, which caused him mental problems, sleep problems also arose. He often sits for long periods of time, and you try with all your might to sit with him so that he is not lonely.

A/N: please do not copy or translate my work! if you have any issues regarding this please contact me in the messages :)

and so we have officially started the alphabet SWF series, one at a time will appear for everyone :) in the meantime also the rest of the NSWF alphabet

more content: formula 1 masterlist, latest one-shot with lando norris, charles leclerc masterlist

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 social media au #f1 #charles leclerc #formula 1 2024 #formula 1 x you #formula one #formula racing #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x oc #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 smut #f1 smau #f1 scenario #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader

[adriennebarnes]

That’s That Me Espresso

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles and Y/N have been dating for a few weeks, they met after the Suzuka Grand Prix. Even though their relationship has been short lived, there’s something about her that has Charles down bad. They are living proof of how the boyfriend should always like the girlfriend more.

Warning: Grammatical and spelling errors

A/N: For those who voted for idea 2, about Charles being auctioned off for charity? Yeah, I'm not vibing with that idea anymore. But i am working on the fanfic where Charles thinks Y/N likes Lando.

Charles was never one to chase girls. Sure, in every relationship he was in, he was the best boyfriend he could be, he would be so devoted to them. But in his current relationship, he has never felt this way before. He was away for the Imola Grand prix and he couldn't sleep so he decided to call Y/N. After a few rings, she answered.

"Bueno?" Y/N asked sleepily.

"Hello, mon ange, did I wake you?" Charles asked.

"Sort of, is something wrong, Charlie?" Y/N asked.

"Oh nothing, I'm just having trouble sleeping without you here, you know?" Charles said.

"I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to this Grand Prix, cariño, i just have a lot of in-person meetings. Plus, you've been to countless races before, you would think you'd be used to sleeping alone." Y/N said.

"Yes, but that was before i met you. Now when i'm in bed alone, it feels like I'm missing something.” Charles confessed.

“You’re so sweet. But seriously, muñeco, you have media day in the morning, and I can’t have you be sleepy during the interviews, Fred would kill you.” Y/N said.

“No he wouldn’t, I’m il predestinato, the prince of Ferrari.” Charles said.

“Muñeco.” Y/N warned.

“Alright Mon ange, I’ll go to sleep, but please FaceTime me before you go to work.” Charles said.

“Of course, Charlie. Te quiero mucho, Goodnight.” Y/N said.

“Yo también te quiero, Goodnight.” Charles tried his best to say in Spanish and he hung up.

The next morning, Y/N woke up, showered, did her after shower routine, got dressed and she was about to make breakfast when Charles decided to FaceTime her. She answered.

“Muñeco, how are you? Did you get some sleep?” Y/N asked.

“I did actually, it took a while though.” Charles said.

“Well when you’re back in Monaco, I’ll be sleeping by your side.” Y/N said, she set her phone against something in the kitchen so she can make pancakes.

“Sounds perfect, I’ll be counting down the days.” Charles said.

“You think you’ll make podium?” Y/N asked.

“I’ll dedicate my podium to you, Mon ange.” Charles said. They kept talking while Y/N made her breakfast, Charles also took his phone with him to eat when his room service came so they had breakfast together,

“Charlie, baby, i need to go to work, okay, I’ll talk to you soon, te quiero.” Y/N said.

“Yo más.” Charles replied and hung up the call. There was a knock on his hotel room door and he opened it to see Carlos. “Good morning, Carlos.”

“Morning. Were you talking with Y/N?” Carlos asked

“Yes i was.” Charles replied smiling.

“Ay, I should have known, she has you completely smitten.” Carlos says.

“I know, mate, there’s just something about her.” Charles said, sighing like a person in love.

“You are whipped, it’s entertaining to see you like that. We need to head to paddock now for the interviews.” Carlos said before him and Charles left the hotel room.

Meanwhile, Y/N was finishing up her third meeting of the day when she got w FaceTime call from Y/N so she excused herself.

“Charlie querido, what is it? I’m technically still in a meeting.” Y/N said.

“Sorry Mon ange, I just wanted to see how you are, I am on break right now and then I have more interviews before the race,” Charles said.

“I’m fine, just a little tired, I call you later tonight okay? Then you can tell me all about your day. Te quiero.” Y/N said, blowing him a kiss.

“Yo más” Charles said, doing the same thing before hanging up. Y/N was about to enter the conference room again but she was stopped by her assistant.

“You got that man wrapped around your finger.” Monica commented,

“Well i wouldn’t necessarily say that I have him wrapped around my finger. Pero es si, lo tengo mal (But Yeah, i got him down bad).” Y/N said.

“How? Like what’s your secret?” Monica asked.

“There’s no secret, it’s just that me espresso.” Y/N said.

“Ha ha, no go, you have a meeting to run.” Monica said. Y/N entered the conference room to continue the meeting.

Her workday was done and she got a text from Charles and it was a link to one of his interviews. She clicked on it and she was watching it but there was a question that Charles answered that surprised her.

“Charles Leclerc, what is your favorite saying?” The interviewer asked.

“I Don’t know if it’s a popular saying or an actual saying in general, but my girlfriend says ‘that’s that me espresso’. When she was younger, her mom would say she was like a shot so espresso because of how hyper and energetic she was as a child, basically bouncing off the walls. So now when I ask her a question about anything she does, she’ll say that’s that me espresso or it’s just that me espresso, meaning that’s just how she is. How do I get crying babies to stop? That’s that me espresso, I have no idea but I guess I just have a calming presence.” Charles said laughing. Y/N stopped the video and FaceTimed Charles,

“Hey Muñeco.” Y/N said.

“Hello, ma Belle, did you see that interview?” Charles asked.

“I did, you used my phrase.” Y/N said.

“Of course I did, it’s my favorite saying in the world, it perfectly describes you. You are a shot of espresso, a moment with you has me smiling for hours, I can’t get enough of you.” Charles said,

“Eres tan cursi (you are so cheesy) but i love that about you.” Y/N said.

They continued talking until it was time for bed.

Race Weekend was done and Y/N can continue working from her home office, she didn’t didn’t have any meetings to attend to in person, she was free. She was finishing up some files when the doorbell rang. Y/N got up and answered the door and she saw a huge bouquet of her favorite flowers (mine are peonies because of Blair Waldorf).

“Whats this?” Y/N asked and the bouquet of flowers were lowered to reveal a smiling Charles Leclerc. “Muñeco!”

“Mon ange!” Charles exclaimed, they entered her apartment and they hugged as soon as charles put the bouquet on the kitchen counter, he spun her around and out her back on the ground to leave her kisses all over her face. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow, did you come here straight from the airport?” Y/N asked, taking in Charles’s hoodie and baggy jeans,

“Yes I did. I stopped by the florist first, obviously.” Charles said, gesturing to the bouquet,

“They’re beautiful.” Y/N said. “What brings you here?”

“Because I wanted to tell you up something important. I know we haven’t been dating for a long time but I have never felt this strongly about someone, I love you, te amo, estoy enamorado de ti (i am in love with you).” Charles said. Y/N starts tearing up,

“Ay muñeco, yo también te amo.” Y/N said, hugging him. “Je suis amoureux de toi.” Now it was Charles’s turn to tear up, she just told him she was in love with him too. They kissed.

“I fall in love with you more and more each day, I can’t get enough of you, how do you do that?” Charles asked, brushing Y/N’s hair back. Y/N just shrugged.

“That’s that me espresso.” Y/N said and both of them laughed, Charles pulled Y/N onto the couch and started talking about where to go out today,

The End

I had no idea where I was going with this short imagine but I hope y’all like it!

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[meanbossart]

Hi RJ, I deeply deeply love your art, your style is amazing and your Astarion is one of my favourite renditions. Thank you so much.

I would like to ask you a rather specific question about your process, if you’re alright with that.

What thought process goes behind choosing a color for your lights and shadows? How do you do it?

I think you’re a master in creating a mood with light and the colors you choose really make DU Drow look like himself (true drow skin, just like i imagined it before ever picking up non-table top version of anything d&d!!) and gives your astarion this gremlin-like soft ugliness lol

Anyway, take care and thank you for any tips xx

Thank you so much! Colorful art is kind of a "new" thing for me, I used to do mostly black & white for comics and such. When I got into BG3 and decided to wanted to draw all these silly ideas out, I realized I was gonna have to venture back into it - It's far too colorful a world to get away with grays and inks alone.

What I'm saying is that I'm still very much learning! I'm glad you guys like my art but I definitely feel like my grasp on color isn't all it could be. I just do what I think looks good and makes sense with the setting!

First of all I think it's important to note that I usually have several different layers of shadow and light. FOR EXAMPLE:

AND THEN FOR LIGHTS... Each text color is a different layer, and that's not even all of them 😂

And the reason for keeping them separate is this: when first painting them on, I make a rough guess on the color, AND THEN-

Yup. I just fuck around with this until I'm happy.

Usually this lands me on (very muted) blueish or purple-y tones for shadows on a multiply layer, with the "base" shadow and for the lights it can be all matter of colors depending on necessity. You can also select your flats and individually change these colors per-surface. You learn what you like as you go! This isn't even a rock solid formula, I still experiment a lot and depending on the piece, the process can be both a lot simpler or a lot more complex than this.

A rule of thumb to start with is that natural light will usually constitute of gray shadows and very, very soft-yellow light - if there is even a need for any depending on your base colors/style. Night settings usually necessitate a slight blue hue on both shadows and light... However, this is art baby, do whatever makes you go "oh that's sick" when you look at it.

As for DU drow's skin, it is nothing but a mix of a grayish/brown base, shadow, and a reflective light! That's what sets him apart from the way I color light-skinned characters; light, when bouncing off his skin, usually (but not always) has a gem-like blue color. You can have all kinds of variations of this combo to give the skin on darker characters more depth.

#ask #tutorial #advice

[bogleech]

Guess I have to make a main thread about this. Someone decided to fight with me in the notes on this post just yesterday about Gaza and made select responses of mine into a callout thread here, where they say my anger towards the IDF is all a cover for antisemitism. This didn't make any sense, because they said they were also against the IDF killing civilians, and I repeatedly said that Jewish people aren't to blame for the IDF or represented by the IDF in any way, putting us supposedly both on the exact same page. What gerry leaves out of their own screenshots, and I'd actually forgotten, is that at first they came at me from an angle that I was disrespecting the victims in Gaza.

So this implies they feel gaza is being subjected to a genocide, and a pretty big one, since they're upset my language made it sound "smaller and tamer." When it becomes obvious that I do in fact consider it a serious genocide, that's when they switch over to saying that my criticism of Netanyahu or the IDF is inherently an attack on Jewish people.

Notice I never actually said "zionists" in this screenshot, even, but that I defined "regular humans" as humans who don't want to kill innocent families. That would automatically include Jewish people since they overall do not wish to kill anyone, but have in fact spent quite a lot more time trying not to get killed. I believe there may be entire books about this fact! I think there's even whole museums about it, if I'm not mistaken?!

So then they pivot to saying I'm an antisemite because I said the IDF and its supporters can "burn in hell," and they say "invoking hell" is an antisemitic dogwhistle, which is definitely news to me?!

So I tried to clarify, again, that I'm only angry at the people who are themselves killing civilians and the "pro-genocide maniacs" who defend the killing of civilians, which they responded to as if I had "lumped them in" with those. You can just see right there that I didn't make any assumption that they were a part of that at all. Thanks to their earlier comments I still thought I was speaking to someone 100% against the IDF's actions, but every time I said that the killers and their advocates alone are bad, they've framed it in some new way as me just not liking anyone Jewish. So now that you have that context:

...In a response to an ask, they finally just say they hated me to begin with and set out with the intention to "bait and sealion" me (their own words!!) into saying something they hoped would be antisemitic, which they believe was successful despite me never saying anything about Jews other than "this isn't their fault." They saw what they admittedly wanted to, so strongly, that they show me saying "this isn't the fault of Jews" as evidence that I blame Jews. But speaking of people "going mask off"

In multiple more recent posts and asks, this person appears to say that they simply do not believe the IDF is really targeting children or ambulances or relief aid, that "none of those are true," and the deliberate targeting of any children is supposedly just a conspiracy theory??? So I guess they did successfully troll me and I feel like a real gullible dumbass, because the only reason I continued responding to this person in the first place was that they said they were in fact against the ongoing massacre. Instead, these comments sound like they think the IDF is being unfairly vilified by dishonest propagandists, and that's why they hated me enough to try and fish for callout fuel. That's the nastiest fucking thing anyone's yet pulled on me about this and it's not one that I'm just going to ignore. I should have smelled a troll early on and just blocked them, but it's SO hard for me to suspect ulterior motives. I always go in thinking people mean well, and that there's just a miscommunication we can work out. I almost feel like this individual noticed that and tried to exploit it?!? Unfortunately I'm sure this kind of thing will happen again simply because I don't intend to obediently shut up about what's being done to Gaza. It's not logistically possible for the death and destruction to all just be accidental collateral damage. Don't let anybody ever fool you into thinking the IDF is the face of the Jewish community or vice-versa, just as you can't let anyone fool you into thinking Hamas represents all Palestinians. Especially don't engage this person, stop doing so if you have been, and block them.

#free palestine #gaza #idf #genocide #psa

[mcflymemes]

EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE (2022) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

the universe is so much bigger than you realize.

maybe we would have been better off if we had never gotten married.

why are you dressed all stupid?

you're just very bad at explaining.

how did i die?

he who loves the most regrets the most.

why would anybody want to kill me?

it's the way you look at me.

how do you think i feel?

you can either come with me and live up to your ultimate potential, or lie here and live with the consequences.

do you still want to do your party?

you are not unlovable. there is always something to love.

you think i'm weak, don't you?

can we just stop fighting?

you're capable of anything because you're so bad at everything.

i'm tired. i don't want to hurt anymore.

i still want to be here with you. i will always, always want to be here with you.

if nothing matters, then all the pain and guilt you feel for making nothing of your life goes away.

we're all small and stupid.

i wasn't looking for you so i could kill you.

so what? you're just gonna ignore everything else?

i will cherish these few specks of time.

i've been on this earth just as many days as you.

i know better than to ask to help you.

so we'll talk later... like this afternoon?

you look really pretty right now.

you took everything away from me.

we're all useless alone.

i don't know what i'd do without you.

i only made enough food for three people. i'll have to cook more.

i always learn something when i hang out with the elderly. old people are very wise.

everything i do, i try to make things simpler, easier.

maybe you can audition, too.

i don't know how to be any fucking clearer.

i didn't mean that. it was a joke.

the only thing i do know... is that we have to be kind.

i know you see yourself as a fighter.

that's not a very funny joke.

actors are very poor.

it's nice to feel needed.

i was thinking, maybe after this is all done, we can go on a trip.

if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode.

you may be in grave danger. there is no time to explain. hold this.

can't you see how wonderful it'll be? we can make our own way.

i'm here because we need your help.

sorry, very busy today. no time to help you.

i have spent years searching for the one who might be able to match this great evil with an even greater good and bring back balance.

i know it's a lot to take in right now.

i can see where this story's going, and it doesn't look good.

you're always trying to confuse us with these words.

i know you. with every passing moment, you fear that you might have missed your chance to make something of your life.

don't let anything distract you from it.

our time here is up. they are going to kill us.

i may be old, but i still know how to negotiate.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #everything everywhere all at once

[dfortrafalgar]

I saw you were accepting requests and I was wondering if you would be okay with writing a Law and kunoichi s/o scenario/drabble/one shot (whatever you like!)? I think it would be so cute seeing him nerd out over her 😌 I love your work! 🫶

hi anon!!! i'm so sorry this took so long! i had a lot of fun writing this though, it's kind of short so i hope you don't mind, it was a fun way to do something a bit more silly and outlandish and have our wonderful nerdy captain be a dork at the same time <3

also, i used this picture as a reference for reader's clothing. i know western media and costumes tend to have a very strange depiction of ninja clothing, but consider the often overlooked history of ninja in general, and especially female ninja, i wanted to make sure that i could depict something such as attire a bit more accurately!!!

Sudden Revelation

Law x Fem Reader

Law didn’t think it was possible to fall more in love with you, until you vanished from his sight.

Warnings: drabble fic, kunoichi/ninja reader, some light depictions of typical shounen action, fluffy ending, worried sick and nerdy law <3

You were never one to stray too far from the pack.  Law knew this, and he loved that about you.  Your tendency to stay glued to either his side or the company of your crew mates meant that he didn’t need to agonize over your safety when on dry land for important missions. After the Heart Pirates split up on an unassuming island to investigate the theorized location of a poneglyph, leaving you to traverse with Penguin and Hakugan, Law expected tonight to be no different.

Until they returned to Law, eyes wide and frantic.  Without you.

“How the hell did you manage to lose her?  We haven’t even been off the ship for over an hour!” Law grumbled, suppressing the primal urge to yell at his crewmen.  Nighttime darkness shrouded the surrounding woods and village like a blanket, and the last thing the pirates needed was an irate captain waking up whatever potential defense force the people on this island had.  Instead, the surgeon’s voice came out of his larynx as a strangled, almost high-pitched groveling.

“We don’t know!” Penguin begged, holding his hands up in front of his face.  “We turned around to ask her something and she was just… gone!”

“I swear we didn’t see her,” Hakugan added.  “She was behind us when she vanished, but we didn’t hear anything.  It was like she just poofed into thin air.”

“Not even rustling or anything?  Just… nothing?” Law asked, his voice riddled with skepticism as his eyebrows furrowed, creasing the skin above his nose.  “How do you expect me to believe that?  She wouldn’t just outright disappear like that.”

“How do we know you didn’t teleport her away?” Penguin asked, his voice snarky.  “For all we know you could’ve snapped your fingers and transported her back to the ship because you were worried.”

Law’s piercing gaze shut down any more retaliation from the older man.  Pinching the bridge of his nose in between his calloused fingers, he grumbled, “You two go join my search team.  I’ll go look for her.”

Without putting up any more of a fight, Penguin and Hakugan booked it past their captain and into the woods where Law’s own small gaggle of Heart Pirates remained secluded in the treeline, watching the debacle unfold.  Law’s fist clenched around Kikoku tighter as he gazed left, then right, then journeyed into the darkness alone to search for you.

The profound worry plaguing him and the frustration at your sudden disappearance fought ruthlessly in his mind as he trudged through the brush.

—

You felt free in your shōzoku, much less constricted compared to your Heart Pirate boiler suit.  While your usual off-white clothing provided ample warmth and comfort while on the submarine, it was clunky and far too revealing when the need to be conspicuous developed.  As you adjusted your obi and shouldered your tantō, you couldn’t help but smile at how easily you slipped away from your crewmates.  But you needed to be fast.  It would only be a matter of time before Law found out you had vanished, and the clock was rapidly ticking.

You knew where the poneglyph was hidden, thanks to the efforts of Straw Hat Nico Robin, whom you had secretly contacted via Den Den Mushi while on your latest watch shift.  You had nothing to prove in going off alone.  Rather, you learned that the underground bunker where the stone was kept was heavily guarded by a squadron of local village folk who, despite their calm and welcoming demeanor in the daytime, were very hostile when the sun set below the horizon.  And you refused to let anything happen to your crew, not when you had the means to do something about it.

You swiftly stepped through the brush, dodging sticks and shrubs as your feet carried you deftly through the darkness, your dyed blue clothing helping you blend in near seamlessly through the inky surroundings.  It was far too dark to view the map you kept folded in your pocket, so you were relying on memory alone to find the entrance to the village bunker.  According to Robin, it was tucked away in between two large stones embedded into a mountainside.  The passageway would be so narrow that you’d need to sideways-shuffle through the opening in order to enter.  But you had no issue with that.

After what felt like hours of searching, squinting your eyes through the darkness to spot anything that looked remotely suspicious, you finally found your landmark.  Two huge boulders hiding a black abyss of an entrance in between their jagged surfaces.  

You just barely stepped forward when a sword unsheathed behind you.

“Don’t move if you know what’s good for you,” an unknown voice called out through the darkness.

It wasn’t anyone you recognized.  Your hair stood on end as your mind reeled for your next action.

“Drop your weapon,” he demanded.

You closed your eyes, honing your senses.  With the way he had revealed his sword, just based on the sound it made, he wasn’t completely prepared to wield it.  It must have been lose in his grip, unsure as to whether or not he should strike or not.  He was surely unsteady on his feet, caught off-guard by your presence.  The confidence in his voice was a ruse, you were certain of it.

With a blinding motion, you pulled your tantō out of its own sheath and whirled around, gripping the handle of your blade firmly in your grasp.  The metal dug into your hand, coarse against your skin and yet so familiar to you, allowing you to land a swift cut to the chest of the unsuspecting village man.  You hadn’t wanted to draw any attention, but you didn’t really have much of a choice.  You had come so far in detecting the location of the poneglyph, you couldn’t just give up now.

Another shallow gash landed on the man’s arm as he staggered backward, his grip on his sword wavering with the shock of your lightning-quick attacks.  He was blindsided as he managed to sidestep another swipe from your short blade, his eyes wide and petrified through the darkness.  The back of his heel landed on a stick, snapping it in half and sending a sharp echo through the surrounding woods making your blood curdle.  Way to draw even more attention.  You flipped your blade in your hand to land another strike–

“ROOM.”

God damn it.

A bright, electric blue light engulfed the area in a bubble, a sensation that you would normally welcome, but now greeted with distaste.  All of your plans had been thoroughly ruined now.  You wondered how long Law had been searching the woods for any sign of life in order to find you.

“AMPUTATE.”

You stepped back just in time for a gust of air to whoosh past you, an indirect strike being landed on the man accosting you and bisecting him at the pelvis.  A shrill scream escaped his lungs as his upper body flopped onto the ground, his entire body frazzled as he gazed at his legs running around independently.  The sight was truly morbid, but you had seen it enough.

“Who the hell are you?!”  Law’s voice was incredibly fierce as he shouted through the darkness, the sound making your heart rate increase nervously.  You were in for it now, he was absolutely talking to you.  “Well?!”

You didn’t have anything fully concealing your face, and while your layers of clothing hid your form, your cover would be blown if you turned around.  You tried to lower your voice as you responded, “I’m not here to bother anyone.”

A long pause followed your words.  Neither of you were acknowledging the bisected stranger off to the side as Law’s room disappeared, leaving the separated torso incapacitated for the time being.

“Then why are you here?  I’m looking for someone,” he demanded.  He sounded as exhausted as he did frustrated, making your chest clench.

You bit the inside of your cheek, digging through your subconscious for a way out of this situation.  You didn’t want Law to see you for what you were.  You hated that you had kept this side of you hidden from him, but it was too important to you to keep your deeper skills hidden from your friends… from your lover.

When you took too long to respond, Law stepped closer.  His own nodachi was unsheathed and held outward in a threatening motion.  “Who.  Are.  You.”

There was no turning back now.  You pivoted on your heels and rotated your body to finally face Law, hoping that the darkness of the night and the overall color of your clothing would conceal your features enough that Law would have to really work at adjusting his pupils enough to see you.

The way his eyes immediately widened, though, told you that he figured you out near instantly.

“B… baby…?” he whispered, his arm lowering.  He frantically slipped Kikoku back into her saya, closing the gap between the two of you and holding out his hand, touching your shoulder as if he wasn’t sure it was actually you in front of him.

Now you felt awful.  His face had rapidly morphed from an expression of profound anger into one of desperate relief that he had found you.  He probably thought you had been captured or worse… and knowing how strongly he felt about losing you…

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Law summoned another Room in order to teleport the two of you into a location that wouldn’t reveal your presence to whoever might have still been inside the cave entrance.  The bisected man could deal.

Law pinned you by one of your wrists against a tree, his hand trembling as he gently squeezed your limb.  “What… why…”

“Law… I’m so sorry,” you mumbled, your voice nothing but a whisper as you struggled to fully rationalize your actions in your head.  “I should have told you.”

You could make out through the darkness the way Law’s golden eyes were frantically examining your body, your clothes, your posture, your overall demeanor, looking for any signs of injury.  It seemed like he almost didn’t realize you weren’t in your boiler suit as he assessed you for any potential injuries.  When he finally did realize your garb was the complete opposite of the usual off-white jumper, he stepped back.  “What… are you…?”

You sucked in a shaky breath.  “A kunoichi,” you muttered.  “A ninja.”

Law finally stepped back enough to give you breathing room, and also pick apart your clothing in the darkness.  You were adorned in a layered hakama, your outer and innermost layers folded similarly to that of a kimono, and an indigo-colored obi was tied securely around your torso.  His jaw might as well have been on the floor.

“You’re a…” he stuttered, rapidly losing the ability to speak.

“A ninja,” you reiterated, keeping your voice low, still unsure about his current emotional state.  For all you knew he could blow up into an angry, petrified, desperate state, so convinced that he had lost you.

Instead, Law reached out a shaky, inked hand and gently ran his fingers across the outer seam of your hakama.

“How long have you… been a…”

“Since I was a child,” you answered, allowing him to digest this insane revelation at his own pace.

Kikoku was placed carefully on the ground, allowing both of Law’s hands to wander your body in a way that somehow replicated a child-like wonder.  He lifted your arms, gazing through the inky blackness at the carefully embroidered and printed details of the fabric that adorned you, spinning you around to examine the way your obi was holding your lower layers into place, trailing his fingers over the way the fabric seamlessly folded over your collarbones.  He went from top to bottom, picking apart every single aspect of your appearance.  This was the last reaction you were expecting from the man, to say the least.

“Law…?” you anxiously muttered, letting him lift up your arm once again to examine the way the fabric of your shōzoku flowed downward.  “Can you say something?”

Your boyfriend finally paused, his eyes darting up to meet yours.  “You’re really a ninja,” he asked, more-so wanting to confirm one last time that, yes, you were telling the truth.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Holy shit,” he uttered back, his voice airy and bewildered.  “That’s… you’re… you’re so cool.”

Your heart swelled twice its size at his words.  “You really think so?”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he suddenly asked, his hands never once leaving your figure.

You pursed your lips.  “I’ve been keeping it a secret forever, really… it just never occurred to me, I guess.”  That was only partially true, but you didn’t feel like now was the time to get into your worries of involving your lover or your crewmates into your risky solo endeavors.  “Are you… mad at me?”

“Furious,” Law stated back swiftly.  “I thought Penguin and Hakugan lost you for good.”

Your stomach rolled around uncomfortably in your stomach.  “I’m really sorry, Law… I know I should’ve told you.  I’m sorry for making you worry so much…”

“Worry doesn’t even begin to cut it,” he barked.  His voice was still low, his hands still dissecting you from the outside, but his body radiated a fierce, overwhelming aura of a pent up fury.  “Please don’t do that again… if you want to go rogue then just tell me.”

You eagerly nodded.  “I will, I promise.”

Law didn’t respond, and instead continued gazing at your apparel.  “You’re so cool…” he whispered, a sudden, jarring shift from his previous words.  “You’re a ninja… holy shit.”

He was nerding out now.  His dominant, protective captain and boyfriend side was dealt with in the form of chastising you for hiding your secret from him, and now he was free to gush.

“I am,” you added, a small, unsure smile pulling at your lips.  

“My girl is a ninja… oh my god.”

“I know where the poneglyph is,” you quietly muttered, a vain attempt to see if you could snatch Law’s attention away from you.

“I know.  But you’re a ninja.”

No dice, he was fixated.

“You look like Stealth Black, kinda.  From volume 15 when he and Sora fought over that cityscape in the middle of the night.”  He was transfixed.

“If I’d known you would’ve loved this so much, I would’ve told you a lot sooner,” you chuckled.

Law’s eyes finally tore away from the way you tied your obi, landing on your face.  “We’ll come back for the poneglyph.  We’re going back to the Tang.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #request fics

[homestylehughes]

boyfriend jack headcanons

jack hughes x fem!reader 

summary: how i think jack would act as a boyfriend!

warnings: sfw and nsfw 18+

wc: 642

an: hiiiii loves!!! i thought since i already did luke, and quinn boyfriend headcanons i thought i should finish off the hughes brothers and do jack!! i'm currently going through jack withdraws and tmr is his birthday... HE NEEDS TO MAKE HIMSELF KNOWN AGAIN!! anywayssssss! hope you enjoy, like and reblog if you do, much love<3

happy reading <3

Sfw: 

bf!jack:  jack is a big cuddler. It doesn't matter if he's the big spoon, little spoon or just laying flat on top of you, he just likes being around you in general. He loves cuddling after a long day on the boat during summer, your warm skin always invites him in.

bf!jack: jack loves cooking for you, a lot of people poke at jack for not being able to cook, but in reality he can cook very well. You never get tired of the smell and sight of Jack looking for you after a long day or just randomly. Institing that you sit down and drink a glass of wine, saying he’ll take care of everything.

bf!jack: jack hates horror films, but you love them. You never make him have to watch them with you but he does anyway. You'll never forget the time that you guys were watching halloween on halloween and he stayed up all night talking about michael myers and how if he came face to face with him, how he would take him down explaining his strategies to you in extreme detail. 

bf!jack: oh buddy, is jack a yapper. He loves to talk, he can talk about everything and anything with you. He never runs out of things to say, his favorite time to yap is when you both get settled into bed, you both go back and forth about most random things before you sleep, making for the best laughs and memories.

bf!jack: jack is obsessed with you. Completely whipped, his brothers and friends would say, he can never get enough of you. He loves being around you, posting you on his social media, showing you off at any event he has to go to, you are always his plus one. He loves when people ask about you, he talks about you so sweetly and lovingly. He loves everything about you.

nsfw: 

bf!jack: jack loves to fuck you everywhere, even in the most risky places where theres a high chance that you can get caught. His new favorite place to fuck you at is the balcony of your guys apartment, where anyone could see you at any moment. 

Bf!jack: your moans have to be jack's favorite sounds. He loves hearing how responsive you are to everything he does. The way your mouth falls open as you try and talk but nothing comes out, or when you drop your head back and moan his name loudly, telling him not to stop.

bf!jack: jack loves giving you hickey to show everyone that you're his. I'm not talking about the ones that are hidden, I mean the ones that are bright purple and red, the ones that you can't cover. Covering you in them, then parading you around like you're the stanley cup in front of everyone.

bf!jack: jack seeing you with his number on your back, really does something to him. After almost every home game, he bends you over the couch and fucks you with the jersey on your back, hes convinced its the hottest sight hes evet laid his eyes on

bf!jack: loves loves loves cockwarming, sometimes he does even crave a release, he just wants to be close to you. The way you wrap around him so warm and snug as you guys sleep or just laying in bed contempt with each other.

bf!jack: jack loves to edge you. He loves hearing and watching you beg to cum. The sight alone of you fucked out on the bed, sweat covering your body as your hands are tied up above your head so you cant touch. Jack thrusts his fingers in and out slowly, alternating between his mouth and finger, maybe both at the sametime. Hearing you moan and beg to come from above him.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #new jersey devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x y/n #jh86