#what do you MEAN personality is habits developed over time and if you don’t work to change them you don’t change

[sweetbbarnes]

GODDESS

postTFATWS!BuckyBarnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re still trying to figure out how a healthy relationship works. Bucky is more than happy to show you.

Warnings: mentions of a past toxic relationship, reader is insecure, feelings (because it’s me), Bucky being the sweetest man possible (yes, he’s a warning), established healthy relationship, a tiny bit of possessive!Bucky (in a healthy way), SMUT, exhibitionism, fingering, talks about birth control, unprotected sex, cum kink (sort of), possessive sex (you have to squint), praise, p in v, let me know if I forgot something.

A/N: I was daydreaming about this yesterday and I just had to write, if you like it please let me know. Also I changed my username ‘cause I didn’t like the old one that much.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY STORIES TRANSLATED, COPIED OR POSTED TO ANY OTHER SITE/APP/ACCOUNT. DO NOT STEAL MY WORK.

You clutch your jacket tightly, your knuckles turning white as you secure the denim fabric around you — a nervous habit you've developed over time. You had intended to change before Bucky arrived, but he showed up earlier than expected, leaving you no time, so you just took the first jacked you saw and covered yourself. Insecurities flood your mind as you open the door for him. He gives you a tight hug that communicates how much he missed you, but instead of embracing him back, you just clutch your jacket harder. A shield, of sorts.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? Are you cold?" Bucky asks, concern etched on his face as he gently rubs your hips with his leather covered thumbs.

"I'm not sure about this dress," you admit, avoiding his gaze.

"Why? Don't you like how you look? Let me see it," he suggests, releasing his grip on you, giving you space to remove your jacket.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you summon the courage to reveal yourself. It’s a pretty dress, used to be one of your favorites, actually, but you retired it after it caused your ex to almost hit you for “wearing something so revealing”. Today, as you were searching for an outfit and found it hidden at the bottom of your wardrobe, you couldn’t help but choose it, as you felt an overwhelming sense of freedom after trying it on. Now, though, you’re not so sure anymore.

You feel the cold air touching your bare arms and brace yourself for the harsh words, echoes of your past relationship lingering inside your brain. But Bucky remains silent, intensifying your anxiety. It has only been a few months since you started dating the supersoldier, and while you've seen no signs of violence from him, you're still guarded, prepared if the moment comes. Bucky is a gentleman, but so was your ex at the beginning.

"I can change if you want," you quickly offer, seeking to appease any potential displeasure.

"Why would I want you to change?" Something in his voice prompts you to open your eyes. Rather than the disappointment you were expecting, there’s some kind of amazement and even lust as he looks at you up and down. Not a single trace of anger.

The gentleness of his question gives you enough courage to ask, “don’t you think I look like a slut?”

Bucky's eyes shoot up to meet yours, a little shocked, but upon noticing the fear in them his face softens with understanding, and he steps closer, enfolding you in his arms. “Darlin’, you look like a fucking Goddess.” He gently kisses your forehead. “Absolutely stunning.”

Bucky knows about your past relationship and the emotional scars it left behind. When he met you, you were a mess. He thought that an ex-assassin would be the last person you’d choose to date after everything, but apparently he did something right, and the moment you accepted him in your life he vowed to himself he’d do anything to show you what a genuine, nurturing love feels like.

"Are you sure? You're not... mad? I mean, that other men will look at me.” you ask hesitantly.

"Why would I be mad?" Bucky responds, his voice filled with sincerity. Despite the heartbreak upon seeing you so scared, he manages a tiny smirk. "They can look; only I get to touch."

You remain uncertain. Your previous boyfriend, when he was in a good mood, had also claimed not to care when you dressed like this — until another guy so much as glanced your way.

Sensing your hesitation, Bucky leads you to your bedroom, positioning you in front of the mirror and standing behind you. As you gaze at your reflection, he notices the sparkle in your eyes and the joy that emanates from within. You like how you look in the dress, and that realization instantly makes it Bucky's favorite.

His leather-clad hands gently trail along your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Do you feel beautiful?" he asks, admiring your form as much as you do.

You answer, blushing and avoiding his eyes, "Yes."

"And do you feel comfortable?" he inquires further.

You hesitate, your thoughts momentarily scattered. Then, you consider his words and the scenario he paints.

"I... Well..." you trail off, contemplating the tiny sparkle of confidence starting to bloom inside your chest.

"Forget about me for a moment. Imagine you're single, going out with your girlfriends. Do you feel comfortable then?" Bucky prompts.

You ponder his question, allowing yourself to envision the scenario. After a brief moment, you respond, "Yes, I do.”

Bucky raises his hand, cupping your cheek and tilting your head until your eyes meet in the mirror. A proud smile graces his lips.

"Then that's the outfit you're wearing tonight," he declares, his voice filled with certainty and adoration.

You smile timidly at him, not really sure how to deal with this… respect, coming from a boyfriend. His hand starts to travel down through your stomach.

“When the other dudes look at you, and they will…” Bucky lowers his mouth to the shell of your ear and whispers, “I’ll make sure to show them that you’re mine, alright?”

His words cut straight to your core, and you involuntarily press your ass against him, feeling his already hard length. You gasp. He whispers your name.

“Keep doing this and we’re not gonna leave this bedroom tonight.” He murmurs with a deep tone.

“Would it be so bad?” You fake pout, grinding against him again, on purpose this time.

“Well, I really want to show you off in that outfit, so…” He says, but can’t help himself from lowering his hands to the hem of your dress, leaving goosebumps along the way.

“Bucky…” You sigh when he starts giving lingering kisses along the curve of your neck and the bottom of your earlobe.

“But I suppose we have some time before our lateness becomes socially unacceptable, right?” He whispers, sneaking two fingers under the fabric, millimeters away from where you need his touch the most.

“How much?” You ask, watching as Bucky frees his flesh hand from the glove to let you know what’s about to happen.

“Enough,” he says, dragging one finger along your clothed cunt, and moaning at your drenched panties. “Already, baby?”

You only hum in response. He uses his other hand to pull down your panties and lightly tap on your hip, signaling you to step off of them. You obey. Returning his fingers to where they were before, he drags them along your lips, collecting your wetness, and starts the slow circles on your clit. Mustering that confidence Bucky just unburied from a locked place inside your brain, you cover his hand with yours and guide him to your entrance.

“No teasing,” you plead.

Bucky chuckles. “What a greedy woman you are.”

He circles your entrance for a few moments before slowly inserting two digits all the way up, your wet walls making it easy for him. You moan, relieved, and rest the back of your head on his shoulder.

“That enough to make you roll your eyes, darlin’?”

You try rolling your hips, but Bucky quickly encircles your waist with his metal arm, firming his grip so you remain still.

“Please, Bucky…”

“Oh, baby, you know I can’t resist when you beg,” he kisses and bites your shoulder, then curls his fingers inside of you, his knuckles rubbing on that delicious spot inside your hole as he presses his clothed cock against your ass again, “and look at this dress, see what you do to me?”

You feel a twitch in your stomach when Bucky starts stimulating your clit with his thumb, along with the in-and-out movement of his fingers.

“Open those beautiful eyes for me, would ya’?” He asks softly. “See how pretty you get when you beg like that.”

You silently thank the universe that he’s firmly holding you, because his words make your knees almost give in. Panting, you comply with his request, fixing your gaze in the spot where he’s fingering you under your dress. Just like everything else about you, he notices the direction of your eyes.

“You wanna see it, baby? Wanna watch while I fuck you with my fingers?” He asks carefully, amusement lacing his deep voice.

You whimper, imagining the sight, and nod frantically.

“Go ahead, dirty girl.” He encourages.

Satisfied with the permission, you lift one of your legs and place your foot at the bottom of your bed, granting you two full access to the view. You both watch Bucky’s motions in awe, the wetness that covers his fingers reflecting the dim light of the room, silent except for the squishy noises his fingers make as he fucks them into your pussy. The sight almost makes Bucky drop down to his knees to worship you like the Goddess he honestly thinks you are. Actually,  if he didn’t know you’re only standing because of his arm around you, he’d probably do just that.

“Like what you see?” He whispers in your year.

You moan in approval, trying to move your hips, but Bucky’s grip is strong, and he smirks.

“Magic word?”

“Faster.” You demand suddenly.

That’s not quite the word Bucky was expecting, but he’s too stunned by your behavior to care. You two had sex before — as soon as you gave him indication that you wanted it, because how could he resist you? —, but it was always so… loving. I mean, Bucky really wants to show you how tender real love can be, but he’s absolutely relishing this newfound confident side of yours. Never had he imagined you could be so filthy, and he really wants to beat the shit out of your ex for making you think that you have to hide it. Also, as he had already imagined it would, your slight dominance leaves him at your mercy, and he moans as he pleases you, fastening his movements.

That familiar knot starts to build up in your belly, and you try hard not to roll your eyes, not wanting to miss a single moment of the view.

“Bucky…” you call, finding it harder and harder to breathe. “I’m gonna come.”

“Do it, baby. Let go for me.” He whispers next to your ear, satisfied to feel your tight walls clenching his fingers. “You’re such a good girl. So fucking beautiful in this dress.”

With the fog of pleasure taking over your brain as the words hit your ears, you moan loudly and let the overwhelming feeling consume you. Bucky can’t quite keep himself from grinding against your ass as you drench his fingers with your sweet nectar, whimpering while he fingers you all the way through your orgasm. He watches, grunting in pleasure, as you fight your eyelids from closing, until you can’t control yourself anymore, going limp into his arms and rolling your eyes with relief.

Coming down from the high, you look at him through the mirror, smiling sheepishly as you watch him raise the two fingers he just used to make you come and suck them hungrily, licking until there’s no trace of your orgasm anymore. Finding it hard to decide if he should compose himself and drag both your horny asses to the bar or toss you in bed and keep your legs spread open for him to eat out as he pleases until the morning lights, an idea pops into his head.

“You’re on birth control, right?” He asks. He never fucked you bare before, so he never had to ask, but, well… There's a first time for everything, right?

“I am, why?” You ask, still a little dizzy.

He smirks, then gets you by the waist and tosses you in bed unceremoniously, making you gasp in surprise and then giggle.

“Bucky, we have to go.” You remind him, but give no indication that you’ll get up.

You watch as your boyfriend determinedly undresses himself, unashamedly staring at his built up body. The muscles from his abdomen tightens as he bends down to get rid of his jeans, and you lick your lips seeing his long length being freed, already hard with need.

“Sam’s got time. He can wait.” He answers, using his knees to spread your thighs apart as he positions himself right where he belongs: between them.

You make a motion to undress yourself, but when Bucky realizes what you’re doing, he stops you.

“Keep the dress.” He says, and you lay back.

You feel the coldness of Bucky’s dog tags touch the skin of your chest as he towers over you, using his metal hand to support himself and the flesh one to cup your cheek and caress it with his thumb. His expression turns into a soft one.

“When those guys out there look at you dressed like this…” he teases your over sensitive entrance with his tip, the sensation almost too overwhelming. Almost. “They’ll desire you, baby, and they’ll have no clue that you’re walking around with my cum dripping from this pretty pussy.”

With one swift motion, he enters you, unable to contain the pornographic moan that leaves his lips. You gasp in surprise, both from the lack of a condom and from the fact that Bucky never filled you up so abruptly like this. You’re not complaining, though, as you feel his bare skin stretching your soft walls.

“You like that, baby?” He asks when you raise your hands to his short hair and pull it. “Everyone will see you in this beautiful dress and they won’t even imagine that I just fucked the shit out of you in it.”

Bucky slowly – so slowly – takes his cock out of your hole, leaving just the tip, and sharply enters you again, earning an almost scream from your lips.

“Want them to know…” you manage to say hoarsely “Want them to know I’m yours.”

Your words hit Bucky in an instinctive place of his brain, awakening all those raw feelings of protection and possessiveness inside his subconscious, and he almost finishes then and there. He thrusts into you vigorously once again before answering.

“Oh, they will,” if you had the mind to pay attention, you'd notice his voice just got impossibly lower, “we’ll show them, alright? You and me.”

Bucky loses the ability to make coherent sentences as he feels your walls clenching around him, a sign that you’re already getting close again. Without hesitation, he fastens his movements, losing himself in the feeling of your soft interior.

His thrusts are harsh, but still caring in a way, since you know he’s not doing it to hurt you, but to please you. He kisses you passionately, holding your face and licking the inside of your mouth, because if he's being honest with himself, if you keep almost screaming his name like you were, he might as well not last as long as he needs to make you come again.

You wrap your legs around his waist, the new angle making you feel him even deeper inside your cunt, and he almost loses it when he feels you dragging your heels along his lower back.

With one hand, you scratch his back hard enough to feel his warm blood staining your fingers, growing desperate with the tight knot that’s once again forming inside you. Bucky kisses and bites and licks your neck, not giving a damn about the pain — enjoying it, even. Your other hand goes straight to your clit and you start treating yourself with just the right amount of pressure and speed. The action, of course, doesn’t go unnoticed by Bucky, and he grunts in approval.

The headboard slams into the wall as Bucky feels his movements start to become a little sloppy. “Gonna come.” He says, panting “Gonna come inside you, baby. Gonna make you all mine.”

A jolt of electricity travels down your spine, getting you closer and closer to the edge, and you buckle your hips up in excitement.

“Let go, Bucky.” You command, making him roll his eyes. “Fill me up, make me yours.”

“Need you to come first, darlin’. Need to feel you co- Ah” Bucky’s request is interrupted by the loud moan you let out when you finally snap, no longer able to control your second orgasm of the day. He follows you not a long time after, as you can feel his hot seed painting your walls white, and he drops his forehead to your shoulder.

You don’t even have a chance to catch your breath when you feel his thick fingers once again entering your overstimulated pussy. You whimper, holding his wrist.

“Just a little bit, sweetheart,” he coos, “gotta make sure it stays inside.”

You whimper again, but let him do his thing, hearing the squishy noises his fingers make as they shove every drop of his seed all the way up before it slips away. Then he proceeds to get up, put on his clothes and retrieve your panties from the floor.

“Can you lift your legs for me, doll?” He asks, and you obey. “That’s my good girl.”

Bucky slides the piece of lingerie up your legs, until they’re back to their place — securing his cum inside of you — and helps you get up, holding your hips until he’s sure you can still walk.

Just as you were going to comment on the plans you two have, you hear Bucky’s phone ringing from his pocket.

“Hi, Sam.” He answers, staring at you. “We’re on our way. We had a little bit of a… situation.” A playful smirk adorns his lips as he says that. “No, I didn’t make her up, Sam. She’s real, we’re just a little late.”

You chuckle. When Bucky invited you to meet his friend — Bucky calls him a colleague, but you can see by the look on his eyes that he cares about him like a dear friend — Sam Wilson (yes, the Captain America), he warned you Sam would probably question if you’re real, since he can’t believe the “bionic staring machine” could be so charming as to find a girl for himself.

Said staring machine hangs up the phone and gives you a peck on the lips.

“Ready?”

He guides you to the door after you secure him you can walk by yourself, opening it for you like the gentleman he is. However, before you can get out, he stops you.

You look at him questioningly.

“Everyone will know that you’re mine,” he reassures, “and if you behave…” he lowers his head until you can feel his warm breath against the skin of your ear, “when we get back, I’ll make sure to worship you like the fucking Goddess you are.”

masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader smut #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[gay-dorito-dust]

‘Damian.’ You called over your shoulder, eyes firmly locked on the thing that currently held your undivided attention.

‘Yeah?’ You heard him call back from another room.

‘Why the fuck is there a cow in your kitchen?’ Damian’s brow was immediately raised upon hearing this. Cow? There’s no way Bat-Cow could’ve- Damian then closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths before joining you in the kitchen, where he could clearly see that the white and brown Bovine cow was indeed in the kitchen, just like you had said.

Now the question of how the cow had gotten into the manor -undetected no less- was a mystery entirely because surly someone would’ve noticed a 610kg, white and brown cow mindlessly clopping down the corridor from rooms away. But none of that mattered anymore as it was irrelevant to the current situation you and Damian both found yourselves in.

‘This day was bound to happen sooner or later, y/n this is Bat-Cow, the family…well cow.’ Damian said as though it were nothing new but for you, everything was made even more confusing. ‘And why do you have a pet cow? is Wayne Enterprises expanding into the farming business is it?’ You asked and Damian felt a headache about to come on.

‘Tt. No, me and father saved Bat-Cow from going to a slaughterhouse and have kept them ever since.’ He explained as he then moved past you to gently pet the cow on the muzzle, smiling softly when Bat-Cow made a noise of content. ‘Besides, this is nothing in comparison to Goliath.’

You made a face at this. ‘I’m sorry but Goliath who?’ You asked and Damian only continued to amuse himself as he petted Bat-Cow. ‘Exactly.’ He couldn’t wait to see your reaction firsthand.

Bruce tends to overwork himself to death most of the time, much to yours and Alfred’s disappointment.

You understood why he does what he does but did he necessarily have to neglect his own health and well-being to do so?

Gotham was a piece of work that is always under continuous construction, never in the hopes of being made better, but instead to be pushed to the side and left to slowly corrode and rot. Gotham was an ever developing plot hole that was bound to become even more than an issue then first assumed.

Gotham wasn’t a place worth saving for it always found a way to relapse back into old harmful habits, much so to the point where it’s own civilians didn’t care whether the city would survive another day, with all the chaos and destruction that seemed to be happening on the daily.

In Gotham it was easy as piss for one to lose all sense of empathy, humility and humanity.

Expect for one man. Bruce Wayne aka Batman. A shining beacon of hope for the future of Gotham in your eyes, a person who looked at the piss, shit and grime that flooded the streets and thought; I could help make this a better place, not by much, but just enough so that the civilians could rest easy knowing they’re looked out for. No matter if I get beaten down again and again, I’ll always get back up because if I don’t, then who will if not me? And you loved him for that and loved even more when he first brought Dick home, followed shortly by Jason, Tim and Damian with the inclusions of Stephenie, Cassandra and Duke respectively.

So nowadays whenever you wanted Bruce to rest, you’d call upon the help of the kids -now grown ass adults with lives of their own- and Alfred to help you drag Bruce away from the screens of the bat-computer.

‘You could’ve just asked nicely.’ Bruce said as he walked with the likes of you, Tim, Dick, Jason and Barbra out of the bat cave after successfully getting Bruce to join you and the remainder of the family- whom were waiting for you all in the dinner room- for dinner that Alfred made.

‘We did, multiple times.’ Jason replied.

‘Well if you consider pulling back his chair from under him asking then yes, yes we did.’ Tim then said as Dick butted himself in the conversation. ‘I mean, it did work in our favour in getting the old man out of the bat cave.’ Murmurs of agreement followed as you leaned against Bruce, staring at your gaggle of kids with nostalgia, chuckling.

‘What’re you laughing to yourself about?’ Bruce asks and you shrug.

‘Nothing, it’s just nice to see that your soft spot for them hasn’t changed after all this time.’ You replied, holding onto his arm as he pressed a small kiss to your head and hums in agreement.

‘They happen to take after you, and you’re hard to say no to in any capacity.’ Bruce answers and you couldn’t help but squint your eyes at him. ‘Liar.’ You tell him with a grin. ‘You just don’t want to admit that I’m right.’

Bruce chuckles and kisses your cheek. ‘Okay, maybe you’re right about one thing.’ He concedes and allows you to drag him down the hallway, happy to be able to see his family all in one place.

Jason who might as well make his apartment a makeshift animal shelter because of how many strays he brings in from off of the street and dangerous living situations.

The pattern in this being that the strays he brings in were dogs that were heavily stereotyped as dangerous and aggressive, hurt, or missing a limb in some capacity. So there would be days where you’d come home to find Jason bathing an XL bully and a Pit bull, whom had some scarring left from when they were used as an illegal fighting dog, and you wouldn’t even bat an eye as you discarded your coat and went to help Jason in drying them off.

‘Where’d you find this one then Jason?’ You asked as you ran a hand through the Pit bulls short fur as it fell asleep on his lap while the XL bully fell asleep in yours.

‘In an alleyway where I was just about finishing up my patrol, tucked away in a darkened corner in a rotting cardboard box where I could heard them whimpering as clear as day.’ He responded. You could hear the anger in his voice towards the mistreatment of the poor dogs and reached over to hold his hand, stroking the back of it with your thumb.

‘You saved them Jason. You’ve given them much more than what their previous owner did tenfold.’ You reassured him, letting him know that the good he’s done will stick with the dogs for a long, long time. ‘Are you planning to give them to Damian to look after before finding them a good home?’ You then asked, having dawn to terms a long time ago that you nor Jason would have the time to properly take care of them yourselves, no matter how much you wanted to but you knew in this instance you couldn’t be selfish.

‘I would but Damian already has his hands full with the Doberman and Staffy we found last time,’ Jason sifted in his seat to look at you, ‘apparently Titus, Alfred and Ace have grown attached to them and refuse to the idea of them leaving. So Bruce is in the process of legally having the dogs be put under his care.’

You visibly perk up as you cuddled the XL bully to your chest. ‘Does that mean?’ Jason couldn’t help but laugh at your inherent cuteness as he pecked your lips. ‘Yes, we get to shelter them a little while longer chipmunk.’ He murmurs against your lips and you couldn’t help but steal a kiss from his lips out of happiness.

‘Have I told you how much I love you lately?’ You asked.

Jason hums. ‘You have but once more couldn’t hurt now would it?’ He teases.

Not even a week later and you and Jason decided to keep Riley the XL bully and Roy the Pit bull and you both love them dearly.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc x y/n #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfiction #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction

[hamspamandjamsandwich]

Kurama is such a complex character, god love him. The way I see him is: I mean he’s literally actually only Yoko Kurama.

“Oh he’s here. He’s me.”

So we have three personas here: Kurama, Yoko Kurama, and Shuuichi Minamino. While he has these three identities, he doesn’t have three personalities. That is to say, he’s one being, two different pieces that merged.

That’s where shit gets really interesting. My interpretation of this is that the merger came packaged with a human soul and body, and that the human parts are what gives him a conscience and a heart and a moral compass, and things such as. I doubt this is an original idea I just wanted to muse lol.

Shuuichi doesn’t bring a different personality. I think Shuuichi provided the things that make us human and a body. Those things are part of the human soul. Empathy, guilt, love. Yoko was always still himself, it’s how Kurama remembers everything, it’s literally just him. He’s simply changed as a person due to being plagued with humanity.

And that’s such a fun idea to me. Yoko Kurama, the legendary bandit, king of thieves—having personality rehab via the human experience. I think it just changed him the way anyone can change, sorta. He begins to feel pretty shitty about the things he’s done and feels guilty about everything with regards to his mother. All this comes together and makes him…a better version of himself? A better person? And I like that.

there is no Shuuichi outside of an adopted persona/identity for Kurama—like I don’t think he brought anything outside of what comes with nature, genetics, and a human soul (which I personally don’t think is the sum of someone’s personality, just what gives them spiritual life? If that makes sense).

But man, it makes me love Kurama so much more when I don’t think of Yoko as a different self or something that can be abandoned, it’s simply a previous version of himself. The past. So I think his 15 years as semi-human simply gave Yoko some insane character development.

Experiencing being unconditionally loved—the very idea that a relationship need not be transactional—being loved beyond what you can do for them. Being loved for existing, and nothing else. I truly think that his humanity responded well to being loved during the “early childhood development” stage and it gives him a way more stable sense of self than he should have tbh

And much like actual prison (or maybe more accurately rehab or inpatient etc), he has nothing but time and passes it by taking up interests and hobbies. He got to find stuff he enjoys about being human and ningenkai. He already liked plants obviously, but it’s so sweet to imagine him really developing an interest in botany and gardening and keeping houseplants etc. Learning to cook with Shiori and actually really liking it—I mean hey he gets to use some of those plants he’s been growing.

Big reader, obviously. He wants to know everything, and he knows so much already, yet humans keep inventing new shit to learn about, so that works out well. School and education get to be competitive sports that he’s the best at, again obviously. All manner of puzzles, games (tabletop and video of course), mystery books and films; if you can analyze it or crack a code somehow, he’s good with it. A real people-watcher, the disdain for humanity begins to fade over time and observation—they’re not so bad after all.

I like that he grows very comfortable in his human form. He’s pretty and appears to really own that (he lucked out there, huh? Incubated in a human that will be so attractive in the future lol), and I think that being raised by his mother (and perhaps this is some of that aforementioned Shuuichi nature) has him “in touch with his feminine side.” So I imagine he doesn’t miss his Yoko body too much, until he suddenly gets it back for a moment and is reminded of how good it felt to be himself. Good in a sinful, hedonistic way, that is. He clearly doesn’t want to be that way, but 1000+ year old habits die hard, right?

Idk I love Yoko Kurama that’s all folks that’s one of my headcanons or maybe it’s actually canon who knows. I just wanted to muse about my favorite kitsune.

#kurahi #yu yu hakusho #yoko kurama #musings.txt #kurama #I love the spirit fox #he’s just trying to do better and atone for his crimes #yyh #headcanons

[bobluvbot]

birthday blues

pairing: sirius black x f!reader  summary: first time godfather sirius goes shopping to find the perfect first birthday gift (jily + baby harry ♥️) wc: 5k a/n: me tryna heal canon trauma ❤️ because in my world everyone lives happily ever after !!! my lil celebration piece for hitting 200 followers! thank u all <3 not proofread, english is not my first language so plz be nice heheh

“What’s the store called again, sweets?”

even as a young kid, one of your biggest pet peeves is repeating yourself for more than four times. three is pushing it. your parents told you its a bad habit to take to adulthood because you’re bound to meet people who just don’t get what you’re saying the first or second time around. But one Wednesday morning, when you asked from upstairs where your favorite periwinkle socks were and your parents downstairs said something that the loud dishwasher and vacuum covered up, you asked them to repeat it again (still can’t hear), and again when you moved closer to the staircase down (barely heard any), then you heard your father’s heavy footsteps up, personally shoving in your waiting hand the said pair of socks.. only damp. “Honey, I said three times already, that they were still in the dryer,” your dad had huffed before heading back downstairs. That’s when you knew it was genetic. 

But, you love Sirius Black. It’s gotten to the point where in the honest, sensitive hours past midnight, while there was nothing much to do as you let sleep creep up from your tired limbs to your fluttering eyelids, but to watch peace settle on the raven-haired boy’s sharp features, ethereal and glowing like an angel even in the dark of the night; that you realize he may be the love of your life. It’s a scary thought, with fears of being too eager, too soon, too much—- so you tuck it in a little pocket and give it a nudge when you need a reminder of how big and true its growing with each second spent together. 

You love him, so you breathe out the snarky irritation away in slow heavy puffs and inhale peace, choosing to exercise patience because you know Sirius is nervous. 

“It’s Spintwitches Sporting Needs, love. ‘s right across Ollivanders if I’m not mistaken,” you say, taking his free hand in yours and rubbing small circles on his knuckles to calm some of his nerves down, while he drives through busy muggle London streets to park by the Leaky Cauldron. He throws you a soft smile and gives your hand a quick squeeze as thanks, grateful to the heavens that you’re here to keep him from going insane.

You know him enough that, while the day in question is not about him, or you, or your relationship, it meant a great deal to Sirius. 

He had one chance (even if you’d argue otherwise) to make things right, do things the right way the first time around with Harry. James knew this fact by heart, which is why he and Lily agreed in a heartbeat that Sirius should be little Harry’s godfather, as it was meant to be. He would do anything, go beyond means, hell, even against Merlin himself just to ensure the safety and happiness of his godson. 

No one, however, was expecting it to backfire and it caught you and Sirius off guard. Once the tears dried and elation diffused, the anxiety kicked in for Sirius, and in turn you. He knew what the opposite was, parents who robbed their own sons of happy childhoods and disowned him when he got brave enough to find happiness and protect it, he had lived it. And now that he has a chance to save an innocent soul from a similar fate, he was determined, but this fact scared him shitless.

He wanted everything to be perfect (who wouldn’t?) and gave everything he physically could to make James and Lily’s Harry’s life easy and happy. Seeing Sirius buy ‘How to Dad?’ books and pour over them at night or on his free time at work was undoubtedly an attractive and loving sight. In a span of a week, he knew which is the best formula to supplement with breastfeeding, toys to pick that stimulate early brain development, even clothes made with hypoallergenic materials that won’t irritate the sensitive newborn skin. It came to a point where James would ask him for advice when Lily’s at work, and Sirius would put on his trusty reading glasses and point at a specific passage of ‘How to Dad?’ that answers James’ question perfectly. 

Eventually, you did have to put your foot down when you found Sirius writing a howler to a baby food company when rumors started going around that their baby snack puffs (which Harry was obsessed with) had harmful chemicals in it. In typical Sirius fashion, he wasn’t convinced that easily. You’d bet that what pushed him off the howler letter route (and in turn protect the statute of wizarding secrecy) was seeing you spend lots of time in the kitchen to perfect making banana and strawberry baby snack puffs from scratch until the recall was over and the food was deemed safe to be consumed again by experts and Sirius himself. 

Hearing many iterations of how the newborn days and months go by so fast was difficult to believe at times, especially when you and Sirius were babysitting to let the exhausted parents get some sort of reprieve multiple times a month. It was almost always the same. Harry would sleep for four hours straight during the night, and almost hourly right after; and while you and sirius had gotten pretty good at dividing up the tasks like bottle feeding and nappy changes equally, the shrill cry of a hungry baby is difficult to ignore and sleep through. 

So despite of Sirius’s best efforts to crawl out of bed and tip-toe to the bassinet quietly not to wake your sleeping form, he gets sad but unsurprised to see you pad towards him and the baby, yawning soundlessly as you squeeze yourself between the soft armrest and Sirius’s side, head resting on his shoulder. It was his idea to get a spacious, soft recliner in the bedroom and it came in handy for situations like these, where getting back to bed once Harry sleeps is too risky as the boy would just wake up with the slightest movement, so the next best option was to try getting rest wherever you ended up in. The cries that once overpowered Sirius’s hushed whispers and cooing finally quiets down. A sigh of relief leaves both your lips, basking in the comfortable silence and bodies finding solace in each other’s warmth. 

You want to say so many things to your lovely boyfriend, things he just has to hear: that he’s doing such a great job, that you see him and all the extra steps he has to take to become and do better than what he was raised for, that you love him for every single bit of it— but the right words don’t come easy when sleep-deprived and exhausted at 4:25am in the morning. So you lift your lips up to meet his temple, the side of his mouth, then his lips; hoping it’d convey what words couldn’t at the moment. 

But time is an experienced thief. It was a Saturday afternoon in the middle of May and it was warm enough for you to whip out the frilly spring dresses that had been pushed to the back of your closet by the thick woolen coats from colder months. The boys had gone on a day trip to help Peter move into his first solo apartment, assembling furniture and stocking up on necessities to ensure he could survive on his own. Without the booming voices and bumbling energy of his father and godfather, little Harry had no choice but to match the calm and peaceful ambiance that you and Lily curated inside the Potter house. While it’s certainly different from what his everyday looks like (living with the likes of James), he seems to enjoy it. Gentle breeze from the windows Lily left open while she baked carry the smell of lemons and vanilla throughout the entire house, making it smell heavenly. You’d been sat on the floor by the dining table, surrounded by toy trains and colorful blocks, watching the ten-month-old munch on a toy graphorn adoringly. Recently, he’s been on a phase where he has to run anything he could get his hands on with his mouth. Some secret test or screening must be up there or something because that’s how Harry decides which toys are deserving of his attention for the day.

You’d picked up a toy set of magical creatures after work yesterday, and it won the almost toddler’s attention for the whole day. James had to snatch the toy niffler away from Harry’s grasp so he could say goodbye to his son and ask for a kiss. Safe to say there were no kisses exchanged because the little boy was too busy wailing and screaming at his father’s face. Lily had to create physical distance between her two boys so the younger one can calm down while the older got mopey. Sirius had to whisk his best friend away from the scene of the crime so that they can get on with the day, but not without leaving you a kiss. 

The said niffler had soon been replaced with the hippogriff, then now the graphorn, and it’s been sitting on your lap since. Harry suddenly pulls the toy graphorn out of his mouth with a resounding pop. You both share a second or two of shocked eye contact and silence, his bright green eyes wide with surprise, before triggering a belly flipping laughing fit. This child could shock himself with a sudden burp or an unexpected sound of hitting random things with a fork, and you’d laugh every single time like its the funniest cutest thing you’ve seen in your life. It’s likewise for the rest of the marauders. Being the first baby of the group had all the adults wrapped in his pudgy fingers and he has no idea. 

Harry’s eyes drop from your smiling face to the Niffler on your lap, and makes grabby hands. You almost, almost give in, but you decide to encourage him to go get it himself. Maybe today’s the day he starts to walk. You move to him a bit closer, probably a good seven baby steps in between. 

“You want the Niffler, bud? You have to go get it from me!” You make a show out of grabbing the toy from your lap multiple times, hoping it’d make sense to the little boy. 

He whines something sounding like your name and does more impatient grabby hands. But you weren’t giving up without a fight. “C’mon, Haz! You can do it,” you say enthusiastically. 

Harry did know how to stand and good thing you were both sat near the dining table chairs, so to alleviate some of your aunt guilt you tuck the niffler away and out of Harry’s reach, before helping him up to his feet and urging him to grab one of the chair legs for support. 

He stays upright, eyes still on the toy that you place again on your lap as you return to your original spot, and you clap with glee. “Great job, buddy! Okay, only a few steps to me and you’ll get the toy!”

Lily, curious to see the commotion happening on her kitchen floor, leans against the counter for a better view. Harry sees this and does the same thing, he looks at her pleadingly while making grabby hands and pointing to the niffler on your lap. You can tell the redhead’s fighting the mom urge to make her child’s life easier, but thank the heavens when she gives your same answer. She even moves to kneel beside you, waving to get her son’s attention and pointing at the niffler on your lap.

“C’mon, my sweet boy,” Lily says. “Mama knows you can do it!”

Motivated by frustration as his aunt and own mother won’t just hand him his goddamn toy, Harry whines angrily but makes a sideways step closer, death grip still on one of the chair legs. You and Lily squeal and clap in delight, urging the boy to do it again.

He makes a move for another step, but realizes that there’s no more legs to grab onto. Reluctantly, his right hand lets go and in turn faces you and Lily. This results in another round of applause, which serves like a drug to these little babies. 

An anxious expression fleetingly appears on his face as he looks to you both, but the encouragement and cooing seemed to scare those big feelings away. Determined, Harry makes an unsure step forward without support, which then makes both yours and Lily’s heartbeat jump. It all happened so quick, the fear of losing balance triggered Harry’s other leg catch him on impulse, then the same on the other leg, then the other. Harry’d made four successful steps on his own before his mom catches him in her embrace before he topples over to the floor.

You and Lily were a sobbing, exultant mess. Harry, clearly confused about the commotion, whines for the niffler while Lily kisses him all over his face. You hand it to his waiting palms like a trophy before ruffling his unruly hair.  An attempt for words has been made, but all that came from your mouth are garbled phrases about the miracle that just happened. Lily nods in agreement and you hug them both back. 

This ten-month old just walked. This is the same baby that kept you and Sirius up at night for his feedings. The same baby responsible for the drool and spit up marks on your shirts. The same baby that  laughs and babbles with you like he understands when you tell him random stories. The same baby that squeals in delight when you blow raspberries on his belly. 

It felt like he had just been born a few days ago, memories of changing hundreds of nappies and preparing bottles of milk still vivid in your mind. But it’s earth shattering to consider that he’s closer to being a one year old than to the little bundle handed to you by James in the hospital room. 

Time is unrelenting, stealing mundane moments behind your back and when you realize the loss, poof! The newborn you held in your arms is now a walking toddler. Soon, he’ll be the one talking your ears off, going to Hogwarts, driving a car.. You shiver at the thought. He was growing up so fast that blinking felt like cheating, afraid that you’ll miss a precious moment that you’ll never get back. 

His first birthday came in the same manner— too fast for both yours and Sirius’s liking, but the wistful feelings came with excitement as Harry being a toddler opened up lots more opportunities to play and discover the world around him. James and Lily had spent the whole month planning a big birthday bash to celebrate the kiddo’s life, inviting all their loved ones to share the special day with them. And with that, the pressure was on for Sirius, as the self-proclaimed best godfather to get the perfect first birthday gift.

It’s like the heavens knew it was a special day for you both that it made sure to put out the best shopping weather one could ever ask for—- not too warm or too cold. It was a Tuesday afternoon, which meant the adults were kept in workplaces and children sent to Hogwarts or in homeschooling, leaving Diagon Alley nearly deserted, minus the occasional stray shoppers entering and leaving shops here and there. Clad in color coordinated couples outfits (that was your thing recently, Sirius more than happy to oblige) and hand in hand, you begin the mission to locate Spintwitches Sporting Needs. 

Nostalgia always finds a way to seep into your bones whenever you find yourself in Diagon Alley. One blink and suddenly you’re ten again, both hands tucked in each parent’s as your mom pours over the list of school supplies you’ll need again for your first year at Hogwarts. You and Sirius see Ollivanders at a short distance and hear the entrance bell chime, the very same sound you heard when entering the shop for the first time, the shopkeeper taking one good look at you before immediately rummaging around the store, grabbing a specific box located on a random shelf four stories up. The look of confidence when he says it’s made just for you, a magical glow enveloping your tiny frame while opening the magenta box. That same magic guided you to a world where you truly belonged in, a castle that felt so much like home, and friends that soon became found family and lifelong partners. The thought of Harry soon experiencing these moments leaves a giddy feeling in your chest. 

The smoky sweet scent of freshly roasted chestnuts catches your attention and you discreetly look for the source of your favorite warm snack. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sirius (hardly nothing ever does, even the things you wish he’d miss or forget), and he gives your hand a small tug. You try to be aloof as you return his waiting gaze, complete with a quirk of your eyebrow, to which he responds with an impish smirk towards your bad acting.

“You’re not fooling anyone with that look, sweets.” The amusement in his voice is palpable as he steers you away from the main walkway and towards the small chestnut stall tucked in an alleyway, almost hidden by the bigger shops surrounding it.

“But, the store’s right there, Siri,” you try to protest. He had been anxious and stressed out about this day in particular, you knew if you were in his shoes, you’d be beelining to the store as soon as you get off the car. But he just shakes his head like its the obvious choice and nods towards the cart. “Can’t have my girl hungry now.” 

After a failed attempt of trying to pay for the warm brown bag (you were no match for Sirius’s lithe, agile fingers in basically everything), you accept it with a sigh, giving yourself a few seconds to sulk before starting on the chestnuts. You weren’t the best at accepting things from other people just because, it always felt like you had to do something in return for them just to deserve it. Maybe that’s why the universe conspired to have you meet and fall for Sirius, who is a very enthusiastic giver, teaching you hard lessons on the daily.

As you begin the journey back to the shop, you carefully crack open one and hold it up to Sirius’s mouth, to which he happily obliged. “Mm, somehow chestnuts taste better when you handfeed me, dove. Do it again.”

You roll your eyes in response, but you find your fingers starting to peel another. “You’re lucky you’re good looking, Black,” you mutter to save some face, that you weren’t head over heels for this man and he to you. That’s a conversation to be had in another, less stressful day. 

The shop, painted electric blue and orange, wasn’t hard to miss. One step in and the welcoming aroma of broom polish, rubber, and smoky wood brings you right back to the Quidditch locker rooms; memories of frantically lacing up your boots a minute or two after James called you as backup for an injured beater, helping Marlene comb out the tail end to fix the broom alignment after practice, and getting pinned to the cool lockers during post-win celebratory makeout sessions with Sirius, replaying vividly in your head. 

It looked deceivingly small on the outside; aside from the expansive selection of different broomstick models, they had books and magazines about Quidditch strategies and featured famous matches, repair and maintenance kits for maintaining broomstick qualities, complete Quidditch gear for all shapes and sizes, and tiny practice snitches flying around the room. Squint and it’ll just be like how each Hogwarts common room would be decorated when there’s a big Quidditch match between houses or international ones in the world cup: streamers and accessories like horns and banners representing each team, posters of Chudley Cannons and Holyhead Harpies (in opposing corners to prevent unsolicited fights) accompanied by autographs of famous players and collectibles littering almost every surface of the walls. It was Quidditch dreamland. 

Still in awe admiring the displays as you both walk through aisles hand in hand, Sirius breaks the silence first. “What do you think Harry will play as in Quidditch?”

You hum in response and he continues, running his hands through the bat display they had for little kids.  “I bet he’d be a beater like me. You remember how that punk hit me straight on the face last week?” 

You nod in amusement. Sirius had played it cool as he gently laid Harry back in his playpen, still laughing and cooing, then as soon as little Harry turned his back on his uncle, Sirius ran to you for first aid and whined the whole time you were healing the already forming bruise. But not a few hours later, he’s bouncing the baby in his arms again as he gave him a tour of the backyard. 

“Yeah, those little fists definitely pack a punch.”

“How about you, love?”

Sifting through a year’s worth of memories, it was surprisingly easy to find your answer. “I think he’ll follow James’s footsteps and be a seeker.” 

Sirius’s pout becomes evident, making you giggle and tug on his arm in efforts to cheer him up. “Think about it. Ever since prongslet got those glasses, it’s harder to hide anything from him now because his eyes are so quick. Poor Crookshanks too, that cat can’t catch a break now when Haz wants to play because he tracks its movements.” 

Sirius lets out a soft chuckle and slings his arm around your shoulders to hold you closer. “Good point, good point,” he repeats, seemingly deep in thought as his fingers run up and down the small of your arm. “We shall see, whatever he decides to play as, or if he even plays at all, I’ll be proud of him.”

You look up to him as he absentmindedly stares at the Quidditch gear sets for little kids, a light, wistful smile on his handsome features. He might not say it out loud, but the love he has for his godson reverberates through his being, and its a warming sight to see. 

Before you confess your love for your boyfriend in the middle of a Quidditch store, you whisk him away and towards the toy broom display, the only thing you were both here for. Only the big bright signs directed you to the right place, which didn’t prepare you at all for the heart exploding sight.

You’re about to burst into tears seeing how cute and tiny the little toy brooms were, and how they came in complete with tiny versions of the headlights, seats, and bag compartments the usual adult broom comes with. Both you and Sirius stood with mouths agape for a solid minute as you took in the expansive display, before your lovely boyfriend proceeds to pick out the most expensive one with the most features on it from the batch.

Surprisingly, it was you who reminded him to grab a helmet before running off to purchase the toy broom, the giddiness and excitement spreading between the two of you. The cashier gives both of you a knowing look as you and Sirius both mellowed down from full giggles to bashful smiles, examines the broom to be purchased, and asks, “For your little one?”

Now, you were no stranger to conversations like these with former lovers in the past, and you could almost hear the typical response of denial that comes swiftly with the question. It used to hurt, even if you knew by heart that that person didn’t have the fifth date potential or that it just wouldn’t last. It’s that unexplainable feeling of shame and rejection when they’d realize that it won’t work with you before you would, or if they answer with a laugh, as if having a future with you is an appalling thought. You’ve gotten better with it throughout the years, but for some reason your skin crawls with the thought of Sirius saying the same things. Years of desensitization down the drain, you find yourself bearing your entire soul to the man beside you the entire relationship, and he can easily break you into two with his response. You cross your fingers that he won’t.

He was already looking when your gaze met his, a look of softness and tenderness from him so profound you wondered if you were deserving of it. The surge of butterflies in your belly was all consuming. 

Sirius shifts uneasily and shakes his head, you prepare for the worst. “For our nephew, not for our own child..,” he pauses, glancing back at you for a quick second. “Yet. But if all goes according to my sneaky plan, we might be back sooner than she thinks.”

The cashier chuckles at your stunned reaction as you shift your focus between him and your boyfriend who was both furiously blushing and actively avoiding your stare. Did you just get a marriage proposal? 

Taking advantage of your confusion, Sirius pays for everything including the gift wrapping, which you had previously argued about who was responsible paying (you won, not that that matters now). You let him tug your arm and guide you out of the store, saying a quick thank you to the amused cashier. The influx of butterflies were back, tickling your insides and spreading warmth in each crevice. Just seeing Sirius handle the rambunctious mini James with care and glee, makes it so easy for you to imagine a life with him, and eventually have a little bean that’s equal parts of you and him. You hope they’d get the best parts of both.

No one brings it up as you began your journey back to the car and you’re grateful. Gift bag swinging on your arm, you drag Sirius to go get ice cream to which he happily obliges. 

A gentle quiet settles on accomplished shoulders like a warm blanket as you settle in the car. Strawberry and vanilla fudge ice cream sticky sweet on each other’s lips as you exchange cones every once in a while. It would be enough to lull you to sleep, if not for Sirius’s deep breaths and sighs, the thundering of his heart that he tries to quell by discreetly scratching a small part of the steering wheel where his thumb usually lay. 

He breaks the silence first, an uneasy tone making his voice seem small. “Do you think he’ll like it, dove?”

“Yes, Siri. I know he’ll love it.” You try your best to enunciate the right words, but a conflicted expression marrs his handsome features, sending a twinge to your heart. 

It comes to you before he speaks. This was something that had been plaguing Sirius’s mind for a while, occupying his dreams and thoughts, embedding itself to his mind and causing unwarranted amounts of stress. You resist the urge to fill in the blanks for him because it has to come from him and him only. 

But after everything he’s been through, what seems easy for most sometimes is the hardest to muster. “Siri,” you pause, waiting until he looks up at you and you keep his gaze. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

His gray orbs still before the dam breaks. “I’m sorry, love.” He chokes. “If I’m being so difficult, irky, irritated, anxious, everything.”

Hot tears run down his cheeks and it’s a painful watch. wanting nothing but to wipe it off and tuck him in your embrace and promise him he won’t be hurt as long as you’re there, but you can’t. The best thing you could do for him is to let it all out and finally feel.

He stares ahead on the city road with fingers trembling on the wheel. “I’m just so scared. So scared. James and Lily have been amazing parents, I can’t say same thing for myself but I try my best. Sometimes I still feel like he deserves someone better to be his godfather,” he sobs. “I just love him so much. I want only the best for him. I just want him to be happy and healthy all the time.”

After a while, you say with a bittersweet tone. “You know we can’t promise that, Siri,” you sigh. “Storms will come and will do damage and hurt and things that we can’t undo,” you pause, sniffling as you take your right hand to guide him to face you again, vulnerable gray eyes meeting yours. “But you know what?”

You give him an assuring smile, speaking the truth. “He’s gonna be alright because little as he is right now, he is so loved and adored by so many people, so loved by his parents. And so loved by his godfather.”

It wasn’t said aloud, it doesn’t need to. Loud as it could be, Sirius knows what you’re about to say; that his ability to love despite of everything he’s been through, despite of his own family ruthlessly trying to rob him of the ability to do so. That’s the type of love that Sirius gives, a love that withstands rain and abandonment; a love that stays after a rough storm, offering a home always open to go to when times are rough and feelings are still hurt; a love that tells the truth even when its hardest to hear. 

You know all this as an easy fact because you’re at the receiving end. Even if you hadn’t heard it from his lips yet.

“Have I told you I love you?”

A watery smile spreads on your face as you shake your head. “No, but i feel it everyday.”

“I love you, Y/N.” It leaves his lips like breaths, naturally and easily. 

It’s the same thing for you, too. “I love you too, Siri.” 

And it ends with sticky kisses that taste of vanilla fudge and berries.

#siriusblack #sirius black one shot #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black blurb #sirius black fluff #sirius black drabble #sirius black fic #sirius black x black!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x yn #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius x reader #marauders era #marauders fluff #dad!marauders #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp marauders #jily fic #sirius black

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Burning Hearts Chapter 11

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) OC 

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

WC: 3000

Taglist: @cottoncandyloverrrr @zoros-fourth-sword @nothing-but-brass

Burning Hearts Chapter 11: Coffee Break

— — 

Law was a creature of habit. Your training begun every morning, Monday through Saturday, at 8 AM sharp in the clearing in the forest. It would end promptly at noon and the two of you would return to the base together for lunch. Law didn’t wear a watch, he was so meticulous that he could run his daily routine in his sleep. 

The opposite of how you were. Your body was finally used to having a strict wake up time, but even then Ikkaku would often have to bust through your door and hoist you out of bed when you were feeling extra lazy. You missed your life on the Sunny with your friends, there was organized chaos every day. You could roll out of bed at 6 AM or noon, Sanji would make your favorite breakfast anyway. You could spend your days sparring with Zoro, doing makeup with Robin, or playing Go-Fish with Chopper… no one breathing down your neck about what to do and when…

“Why can Bepo talk?” You ask, trailing behind Law on your way back from training. It was a few days after your confrontation with him on the submarine and you had continued your training without addressing it again. 

“What?” Law replies. 

“He’s a bear… but he’s also like… a person? I’ve seen him swim so obviously it’s not a devil fruit situation…” 

“You’ve never seen a mink?”

“A who now?”

“A mink? The people from Zou?”

“Nope.” 

Law sighs. 

“They’re a race of bipedal animal beings. History says humans evolved from them, we just became less hairy.”

“So everyone there is a polar bear?” You cock your head. 

Law sighs again, frustrated. 

“No. They’re all different mammals. How have you not heard of this? I thought you said your doctor was deer?”

“A reindeer. And no, Chopper’s a real reindeer, he just ate the Human-Human fruit.” You respond. 

“Hmm… Interesting.” 

Several more minutes pass with no sounds except the squelching of your boots in the mud underneath you as you made you way back to compound. Law glances back at you. 

“So… ah..” Law begins, uncomfortably. “Do you like to have coffee?”

You furrow your brow. 

“Like… in general? Do I enjoy coffee?” You respond, confused. 

“No, shit, I mean like…” Law stumbles over his words. This was very much not like the composed, mysterious pirate captain you trained with. “What I mean is, do you want to have a coffee later? In my office.”

Those last words almost looked like they pained him to get out. 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. 

“Oh! Well I…” You begin. 

“I got some books when we went to town the other day, I want to show you a few things from them. It might help with developing your devil fruit ability.” Law quickly interrupts. 

“Right, well… it’s tomato season so I’ve got a bunch of work to do in the garden, then I’ve got kitchen duty for dinner… but if you can put one of the guys on dishes I think I can stop by afterwards.” 

“I can do that.” 

— — 

“Daisyyyy! Shachi is hogging the sandwiches!” 

You spin around with a grilled cheese in your mouth. 

“Shachi if you don’t let that plate go I’m going to set you on fire!”

“Jeez, okay mom.” Shachi rolls his eyes and passes the plate of sandwiches to Penguin.

You wolf down the rest of your dinner and pour a hefty bowl of soup to set on a little tray. You place a spoon and a napkin on the tray. You ball up the dishtowel on your shoulder in your hands and throw it at Shachi’s head. 

“Your greedy ass is on dish duty tonight, I have a meeting.” 

“Oh a meeting?” Ikkaku raises an eyebrow over her bowl of soup. 

“Yes a meeting to make sure your captain doesn’t die of scurvy and malnutrition. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You push out of the galley with the tray of soup and head to Law’s office. 

Upon reaching his door, you knock with your heel due to your hands being full. The door cracks open with some unseen force… oh yeah.. the room thing…

“Supper’s on!” You smile while pushing the door open with your shoulder. You see Law at his desk with stacks of old, coverless tomes surrounding him. The books had notes crudely shoved into certain pages. He looks up from the text briefly to beckon you into his office further. You set the bowl of soup and a spoon in front of Law on his desk after folding up the book he was actively reading. 

“Eat. You’re borderline skeletal.” You meet his eyes then nod towards the food. 

Law hums and picks up the bowl.

“Its tomato and egg soup, I grew the tomatoes myself and I added some white pepper and ginger. Tell me if you think it’s-“

Law gulped down the entire bowl in a few seconds and wiped his mouth with his hand. He placed the empty bowl back down on his desk. You raised your brow in surprise. 

“Gods when was the last time you ate?”

“Hmm… yesterday?” Law grabs one of the books from his many stacks and opens to a marked page. 

“These are texts on medieval creatures. It’s not devil fruits, but it might help us figure out what you’re capable of. If you look here- wait. I promised you coffee, didn’t I?”

You smile a little. 

“That you did.” 

“Well, excuse me then.” Law stands, shut the book and moves towards his coffee maker in the corner of his office. 

As Law fiddles with his espresso machine, you take the time to get a good look around the room. You had barely spent any time in here so you wanted to see what Trafalgar Law, Surgeon of Death keeps in his safe space. It was bookshelves, mostly. The antique wood of the bookcases and the worn leather and suede of the furniture was sure a stark contrast to the cold steel flooring and walls. Everything was meticulously clean and organized, except there were tiny little human touches that didn’t go unnoticed by your. His wastebasket was full of empty shrimp-chip bags, crushed energy drink cans, and salt water taffy wrappers. This must be what he lives on when you don’t force him to eat. 

“For a doctor,  your diet sucks.” You chuckle as Law returns to the desk with two cups of coffee in hand. He hands you one and sits back down in his desk chair. He smirks. 

“I forget about food.” 

“That’s insane.”

“Is it?”

“Food is… so important! It fuels your body! Your brain! You can’t live off caffeine and carbs… but I think you know that, doc.”

Law rolls his eyes. “Thank you for the soup.” He opens a drawer in his desk and roots around before pulling out a small bottle of whiskey. He pours a shot or two into his coffee before handing you the bottle. 

“Is this a good idea, after what happened the last time we drank together, Mr Trafalgar?” You smile cheekily at him before grabbing the bottle and pouring some into your cup of coffee. 

Law blushes. Oh gods you had never seen him blush before. He was quite adorable when he was flustered… 

Law makes a hand gesture as if it say “shut up” and cracks his book open again. 

“A wyvern is much like a traditional dragon… scales, breathing fire, long tail, but the difference, as you know would be the wings. It’s clear you’ve harnessed quite a few of these attributes, but you’ve failed to unlock your full Zoan form. I think if you look at these pictures and notes, you might find some information that might help you.”

You look down at the dusty page. It was filled with vicious, fire breathing dragons ripping the heads off unsuspecting villagers. 

“I…. I don’t know if I was to be just like… that…” You point down at the page. 

“Of course not. That’s why you need to learn to control yourself and your abilities before you assume your final form and-“ 

“So I have to stop accidentally burning your eyebrows off?” You interject.

“That would be appreciated, yes.” Law responds, playfully annoyed. “Once you can burn my eyebrows off on purpose, we can move forward.” 

You snort-laugh into your spiked coffee. Was he funny? Or was it the whiskey talking? First you think he’s cute, now you think he’s funny? Was it a full moon? Were you finally losing it?

“What’s with all those newspapers?” You take another sip of your drink and stand up. You walk towards the stack of old newspapers at the bottom of one of Law’s bookcases. 

“It’s not for the newspapers. It’s for the comics.” 

You nod your head down and give him a look. 

“The comics?”

“Sora, Warrior of the Sea. It’s the greatest comic ever made. I have ever single issue ever made.” 

“hmm… never heard of it.” You say as you flip through the stack. 

“What? You’ve never heard of Sora? Stealth Black? It’s been running in the WENP for years.” Law asks. 

“Nope, nothing rings a bell.”

“Grab the bottom one. Bring it here.” 

You oblige and carefully pull Issue 1 from the bottom of the stack of papers. You bring it over to Law’s desk and he flips open immediately to the beginning of the comic strip. “See look, this is Sora. He’s a marine hero, and he fights against Germa 66. He’s got this robot here, see?” 

Law points at the comic on the page and you listen intently. As he explains the years long lore of this fictional hero, you notice a certain sparkle in the pirate captain’s eye. He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the figures on the crusty old newspaper page with awe and splendor. You listened for what felt like ages about this nerdy comic strip, but you were mesmerized at the sight of Law finally showing interest in something. 

“So who is this guy?” You point at a character on the page. 

“Good question, this is a new character in this chapter so… wait you’re actually listening?” Law turns to finally meet your gaze. 

“… yes? Why would I not be?” You cock your head. 

“I-I just thought you’d be.. bored… or something..” Law still looks at the page. 

“I’m not bored. I’ve never read this before. It’s interesting. Can we read one more? Tomorrow’s Sunday… no bed time, am I right?” You ask. 

“O-Of course! If you want to!” Law quickly moves from his desk and grabs Issue 2 from the stack. He hurries back to his desk and opens up to the first comic panel. 

“I-If you really want to see the art, you can move your chair over here…” Law scoots his desk chair over to make space for you on his side of the desk. 

You oblige and move your chair to the other side of the desk so that you and Law were sitting shoulder to shoulder. He points to a character in the comic. “So if you see here…” 

Law rambles through the entirety of the comic book with great interest. You alternate looking from the page to his shining face as he smiles, explaining the deep lore behind the story. You had never seen Law so impassioned about anything, let alone a nerdy piece of print media. The hour was drawing late and you yawn involuntarily. 

“Hey, you should get to bed. You worked hard today.” Law closes the old newspaper. 

“Hm. Thanks. You know I really want to hear more about Sora. Maybe we can read more another time?” You ask.

“R-really? I mean.. Yes. We can do that. Enjoy your day off.” Law replies with wide eyes.

“Goodnight, Law.” You smile as you head towards the door of Law’s office. 

“Goodnight.”

You shut the cold steel door behind you and return to your room. Halfway through trudging through the base you realize you had a stupid grin plastered across your face. It was so fascinating to see such an uptight and cold man let loose and info dump about his special interests. He liked superhero comics. How were you supposed to ignore how cute that was?

You sigh and push open the metal door to your room. 

“Well, well, well.” 

“Ah!” You jolt in surprise. 

“It’s 12:30 AM. Where were you, miss girl?” Ikkaku cocks her head as she closes the gossip magazine she was reading while lounging on top of your bed. 

“I-I told you I had a meeting!” You respond defensively. 

“Alone? With the captain? Until the wee hours of the morning? Hmm?”

“OK don’t ‘miss girl’ me! He had some books he needed to show me!” You unzip your jumpsuit and start to brush your hair out for bed.

“That man doesn’t let anyone in his office for more than 10 minutes, let alone several hours! What the hell were you talking about!” Ikkaku asks you in an accusatory fashion. 

“Oh my GODS, nothing! He wanted me to learn about my devil fruit powers and we got side tracked talking about that weird comic he likes!” 

“Sora?”

“Yes, Sora. The Sea Warrior guy.” 

“Damn.” Ikkaku opens up the magazine again and looks down. 

“What?” 

“He didn’t tell us about his boy-crush on Sora for YEARS! And you’re already reading it with him after a few months? You think I’m stupid?”

“What do you mean? Of course I don’t think that!”

“He likes you. Clearly. Do you like him?” Ikkaku cuts straight to the point. 

“I… I don’t know yet.” You sit down on the bed next to her as you stripped yourself of your clothes. Ikkaku wraps an arm around you. 

“And that’s okay. Just… be careful. You’ve been through enough, I’d hate to see you get your heart broken too.”

You sigh, relaxing into your pillows. 

“I know… Hey… please don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” You look at her. 

“of course.” Ikkaku holds out her pinky to you and you smile and hook it with your own. You press your foreheads together and laugh. 

“Shit, if he starts getting laid it might be a lot more chill around here.”

You smack Ikkaku on the shoulder and the both of you fall into a fit of laughter. 

— — 

The next morning you wake up at your own pace, thrilled to not have to train. You throw on some sweatpants and decide it’s time to get some breakfast. As you swing open the door to your stateroom you notice an ugly, dirty glass vase filled with marigolds and coneflowers at your doorstep. 

You lean down and pick up the bouquet. It was put together haphazardly, but you recognized the blooms. These were from your garden. You pick up the arrangement and bring it to your nose, inhaling its fresh airy scent. You turn back and place the flowers on your vanity before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. 

Ikkaku was at the stove making rice and eggs. You come up behind her and pinch her hip. 

“Good morning.”

“Morning, sunshine!” Ikkaku turns her head and smiles at you. “I made a plate for you and one for the captain. Can you drop it by his room?” She smirks. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Yes ma’am.” You grab both plates and head to Law’s office. 

Once reaching his door you shout instead of knocking. 

“Chow time, Cap!”

The door opens and you push yourself in. 

Law raises his head from his desk and clears it from the medical journals he was reading. 

“Good morning.” You smile. 

“Good morning, back.” Law looks at the plate you placed in front of him. “Guessing you weren’t on kitchen duty this morning?”

You laugh. 

“Ikkaku makes a fine breakfast, you’re just getting spoiled.” 

The two of you eat breakfast in silence for awhile. 

“Y-You saw the flowers?” Law stutters out in between mouthfuls of rice. 

“I did. They’re lovely.” You smirk. “So you snuck out into my garden and picked my flowers to give them to me?” You ask with a playful smile. 

“T-that’s… the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.. when you say it like that…” Law puts his fork down and rubs his eyes. Your heart pangs with sympathy. The man had tried. 

“Hey, it’s the thought that counts. I loved them.” You finish your plate of food. 

Law still doesn’t meet your gaze. 

“Thank you for breakfast.” He says while finishing his plate. 

“Thank you for the flowers, Law.” You picked up his plate and stacked it with yours. Before grabbing the tableware you make your way around Law’s desk. 

You grab Law’s cheek in one hand and lean forward to kiss his other cheek. You let your lips linger on his skin before pulling back. Law freezes. 

You take the dishes out of his office and back to the kitchen to clean. As you wash the dishes, you can’t help but worry… were you really going to get involved with this man? This relationship would have an expiration date… would that be fair to either of you? Did you care? He made butterflies erupt in your chest simply by being vulnerable… there was no denying that you felt something from that kiss, too. The noise in your head was too loud. It was time to take your red satchel and head out to the garden shed…

xx

Authors Note:

chapter 11! it's here! If you guys have suggestions on where you want this to go from here, I'd love to hear them! I have a few thoughts floating around but I'm open to suggestion! Law is just such an awkward loser nerd in my head that's why I simply have to write him as one. (He might close the deal soon thought hehehehe)

#one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #law x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar op #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d law x reader #law one piece

[ruiniel]

Hidden

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x fem!reader

Rating: T (🔞later)

Count: 1.4k

Tags & Warnings: Mutual pining, Romantic angst, Unresolved emotional tension, Second Person POV, Two people running from their feelings like their lives depend on it, for Reasons

Part I Part III

II. Breaking

“Ow!”

Adrian looks up at the child’s scrunching face as he holds her arm, wrapping the gauze around the gash. “I’m sorry, Sara, but next time please be careful.” 

“I was, Pavel pushed me,” she complains, just in time for the accused to spring up from his spot.

“No, I didn’t, you slipped!”

“Running away from you!”

“Enough, please,” Adrian says, and the two fall silent. “This could have been your head. You must take care of each other, remember?”

“Yes…” come two almost-chastened voices. 

They run off as soon as he’s done, and rising to his feet, he stares at the deepening shades across the skies. 

He debates whether to linger and return the supplies later, or give in to a wretched need to return to the laboratory this moment, only to bask in more of his own misery. 

It’s no one’s fault, really. He let this bloom, he nurtured it with every evening spent together, every trip to the woods, every late night spent debating in the library, ending with your head falling on his shoulder, your breath slowing with sleep.

He walks back towards the looming shadow of his home, slow and hesitating, considering whether to force himself to turn aside. No matter his self-deprecation, the fact is: he waited too long. And perhaps, you weren’t even looking at him that way, the way he thought you were in those few sparse moments of delusion. 

But today, holding you against him felt so good it shamed him. The way your skin felt against his, the weight of you in his arms, a dizzying sensation rushing through his blood like lava. 

Well. You’ve chosen your path. 

But he's slowly learning: all good things have a habit of ending. 

Your gaze moves from Matei’s bag which he’d let drop to the floor, to his face. 

“You… you did what?”

“I told you,” he’s positively beaming. “The magister accepted me as his pupil. We can move away to a larger community, and I’ll have a decent wage, and you know what this means, don’t you?”

Your mind fails to jump over ‘move away’, which feels like something heavy and sharp has dropped down your stomach. “Matei, we never discussed this.”

“I know, but it happened… as a fluke! I gave him the needed papers and one thing led to another… do you understand? We’ll be faring well, and I’ll take care of you and you’ll never have to work a day!”

You should be glad for his joy, but the words bite instead, and you remove your arm from his excited grasp. “Matei, but I… I want to work. My apprenticeship isn’t over, and leaving now means quitting. I want to be a doctor. Remember?”

Matei sighs, as though being reminded of something unpleasant, then runs a hand through his dark locks. “Right, right… but this is… if this isn’t good fortune I don’t know what is!”

You’re shaking. You were feeling guilty for not missing him much, but now the feeling has less hold than it did. “And what about my good fortune?” You try to rein in your mounting frustration, seeing his silence for what it is. He is a good man, you remember, but he, too, is only human. “You… you never believed in me, did you?”

His shoulders sag as Matei looks away. “You wouldn't have to struggle with that anymore.”

He makes no move to stop you when you turn and walk away.

Where to go, what to do?

Over and over you twist and turn this thought and that, walking without purpose as one smitten. Late you realize you’ve entered the castle, and the lonely corridors tinted by yellow light at this time of night feel too small.  

In a strange development, you are slighted. You’d told him how much this meant, he seemed to understand. Groaning and barely holding back tears, you walk and climb stairs until you can’t, until your dress is wet on your back as you reach an exit. 

It’s the same corner of the castle, where you like to come and think, sometimes. As you step forward, you realize you’re not alone: Adrian stands there, his body tilted forward, resting with his arms folded over the edge, his face lowered and hidden by them.

He’s not seen you of course, but knowing his abilities, he surely heard your steps. 

As the days passed, Adrian became a scarce figure in your life. The laboratory, once a space of collaboration, now echoes with his lingering absence. He seems to avoid your gaze, the former warmth replaced by a formality that creates a subtle and painful distance between you. Yet, in quiet moments like these, when moonlight bathes the village below in a soft glow, you can't escape the memories of that night on the battlement. The pendant, a silent witness, rests against your heart like a heavy secret.

The air is crisp, and the scent of blooming flowers mingles with the distant voice of the forest. You’re drawn by an invisible thread, closer: it hurts less now that he’s here.

Adrian slowly raises his head, staring into the horizon. His gaze flickers to you for a breath, caught by the shimmer of the pendant.

“Adrian,” you speak his name softly, uncertain of how he'll respond.

“Hello.” 

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” You walk closer, dropping to the ground not far from him, your arms circling your knees. 

“If you wish, I can go,” he murmurs without turning. 

You linger in silence, breaking inside from his words like a second blow to the chest. “I don’t wish it.” It must have escaped through your voice as he turns then, gazing down at you. 

“Did something happen?”

You can’t look at him. “He wants to leave.”

“Leave?”

There’s no change in his voice or his stance. You continue, unable to stop. “Matei wants to move away for a post. And he wants me to go with him to Brașov, for good.” 

He was always easy to confide in, and despite your feelings for him nowadays and their hurts, Adrian is still your closest friend—and very silent now. 

“And what about… your apprenticeship?”

You look at him then, really look at him. In the weak light of a faraway lamp burning by the entrance, the gleam of his eyes feels strange. 

Shaking your head, you rest your chin on your knees. “I suppose that’s obvious, isn't it?”

Adrian takes a slow step, then another, and heavily sits down by your side with a sigh. You look sideways at him as he rests his head against the stone wall. “Brașov is quite far.”

Well, what did you expect him to say? Don’t go? Don’t leave, please? Your fantasies are as deluded as you are.

“When?”

You tell him of the details, the words like stones heavy in your mouth. He listens, eyes never leaving your face, his jaw clenched. 

“I don’t want to leave,” you finally say, looking away. “My… my life is here.” You are here. If only you dared to speak it, but even so—a useless confession might alienate him further and you need him, selfish creature that you are.

The sensation of warm fingers startles you as they glide down your face. You don’t even know when you’d begun to weep. Damned hell, he’s so close. 

“I have no solution to offer,” Adrian says. His voice is odd, strangled as though something presses down his windpipe. “This is… an important turning point, and I don’t envy you in the slightest. Only you know what you want your life to be. Will you follow your truth?”

There is warmth in his words, and his hand lingers on your face. You ought to do something, but if you move, this is over, and it becomes a memory. 

Adrian watches as you nod, grateful and miserable. Maybe going away is best? How else to forget, and regain the freedom of spirit these feelings stole? But being here, now, is the most honest and true to yourself you’ve been in a long time.

His thumb tickles the corner of your lips, and without thought your tongue shyly grazes it, tasting the salt of your tears. 

Adrian’s eyes widen; in a haze, you realize what you’ve done. For one terrifying moment that leaves you dizzy, he looks as though he's about to do something, leaning towards you.

His touch burns on your skin. He swallows emptily then rises as one drunk, and you dare not stop him, or turn to look. Trapped in your mortification, you listen to his rushed footsteps and the creaking door being hastily shut, leaving you alone. 

Part III

#adrian tepes x reader #alucard castlevania x reader #castlevania x reader #castlevania x you #castlevania alucard x reader #alucard x reader #ruiniel:fanfiction #x reader #castlevania imagine #adrian tepes x you #alucard x you

[teddy-bear-queen]

Bro I have to say this I swear-

I see people trying everything to make it seem like Wukong is a lot worse then he is. I understand you like Macaque, I do too! But the entire point of their relationship is that they’re both in the wrong. The difference is, Wukong got, well, character development. It just feels super annoying to discredit Wukongs hard work in JTTW because of things he did prior.

I’m not saying Wukong is some saint, or an amazing person even while the story is taking place, but he is NOT as bad as some of the people in the LMK fandom make him out to be. I assume it’s because Macaque is the goth shy boy (/hj? /lh), but Macaque literally comes out just to manipulate MK and steal his powers. He’s making the exact same mistakes Wukong did, fighting for power so that he can protect himself. Get stronger. Etc.

Season 4 Special Spoilers:

I don’t think Wukong was ignorant in saying that Macaque doesn’t come to help him. I mean, he got beaten by the Jade Emperor and presumably everyone just left him there and ran off. I’d be pretty mad too. Of course, Macaque was hesitant to begin with, and that’s fair. But he was already there, he could’ve tried. But Macaque has a habit of shying away from fights, only really fighting others to settle a score (S1 E9) or if he has to (LBD arc - both working for and against her, but the S1 E9 relates here, too.) I’m not saying this as an insult, more of an observation. He’s not a coward by any means, a coward would be Peng, who leaves mid-battle in fear of being hurt or losing. Macaque finishes his fights (still knowing when it’s reasonable to retreat), but more often then not prefers to prevent them in the first place. (WHICH IS WHY THE DIVORCE SCENE HITS SO HARD, you know he’s been bottling that up ;v;)

ANYWAY back on topic. I definitely think everything Wukong said there was true. I don’t think he was trying to lie or manipulate Macaque by saying “everything I did was for us”. This is further confirmed when we see him later, tired and completely defeated.

He has nothing to hide here. He’s at his lowest point, stuck in a mountain, tensions high from being abandoned by his sworn brothers, being abandoned by people he held dear. Macaque was trying to be nice, but if I were stuck in a mountain and offered food from someone who left me in such a vulnerable state? I probably wouldn’t take the it either. ALSO. We still have NOT seen these things from Wukongs perspective! Every single time something is revealed from his past, it’s narrated by Tang, Azure, Macaque, etc. Wukong has never (from my memory) spoken about his trials first-hand. This is why I love the guy so much!! What’s going on in his head? How does he feel about these things?

These are such complex characters who have been through so much, so it really bothers me when people look at Sun Wukong and decide to demonise him because of the past which, not only has he moved on from, but we have never even seen his side of the story on. Why did he kill Macaque? Did he kill Macaque? (I’ve seen theories he didn’t, we don’t know rn tho)

Wukong went through a lot of pain to change. Wukong is haunted by his past and in genuine distress over it. You can’t tell me this isn’t a man filled with deep remorse for his actions.

He’s not perfect, but he’s a hell of a lot better. It just really frustrates me that people disregard and discredit the work he put in to get to this point.

THATS IT THATS THE POST

This is really disorganised I’m sorry, I just keep seeing people act like Wukong is the scum of the earth and I honestly just do not get it.

Please don’t send asks about this post, just reblog or comment.

I don’t want to deal with passive aggressive (or just straight up aggressive) people.

As a final note: No, Wukong is not perfect. He’s still a deeply flawed character even with his development. No, Macaque isn’t the scum of the earth. They both have their own problems and they both fucked up. They both did something wrong. That’s the point.

#suki speaks #lmk #Lego monkie kid #sun wukong #lmk sun wukong #lmk wukong #wukong #lmk macaque #six eared macaque #analysis #? #more of a ramble #or a rant #it’s 11:30pm

[lalalikecrazy]

The stars in her eyes reflected in yours

(G)I-DLE alien!Minnie x gn!reader

fluff, classmates to friends to lovers, sfw, wordcount:1.8k

The new girl in your college class is like out-of-this-world beautiful. As your friendship with her develops into something more, you discover that home can be a person rather than a place. While you don’t know everything about her, Minnie means the world to you, and she feels the exact same way

notes: reader is gender nuetral but refered to as pretty; reader is also a lil bit awkward lol; inspired by Paradise by (G)I-DLE and their new I Do music video; please enjoy!!   ✰★

Minnie was beautiful. Like really, truly, otherworldly beautiful. She was gorgeous enough to stand out in a sea of people at your huge university. You still remember the first time you saw her, in the lecture hall for your gen-ed math course with over 100 other students. 

You didn’t have to wait long to find out. The next time the class met, you arrived early, like usual for you. This time, the mysterious new girl did, too. As she walked towards you, your heart began to beat faster. What would be worse– if she sat next to you and you had to think of something to say, or if she didn’t and you never got a chance to say anything at all?

One day, she just appeared. Close to the start of the semester, but not close enough for people to still be adding the class. You swore that you would have noticed her if you had seen her before.

For the next hour and a half of that class session, you snuck glances at her, wondering where she came from, what her name was, and if you’d ever get the chance to speak to her. 

“Hello,” She said, sliding into the seat next to you, a friendly smile on her lips. 

“Hi… Are you new to this class?” You said, feeling your face heat. 

This close, you could see her better than last time. Her hair was split dyed, half of her wispy bangs a midnight black, the other a near-impossible silver. Despite the unnatural color, you noticed it looked soft, as if she had been born with it like that.

You could also see some rhinestones on her face, twinkling under the light. The little gems accentuated her wide eyes, her smile, which now seemed to contain some humor. As if you’d been staring at her for too long… Had you been?

“Yes, I’m new… I’m not from around here.” She leaned in closer to you as she said this, as if it were a secret, despite the information being completely mundane.

You nodded, telling her your name, “Welcome to Intro to Algebra,” You added.

Welcome to Intro to Algebra!? Who says that? You thought to yourself. But she nodded graciously, laughed a little, and told you her name was Minnie. 

Then, just before class started, she tested your name again, “Y/N? It's pretty. It suits you.” 

And in that moment you knew that it was love at first sight. Or at least, love at first awkward conversation.

✰★

That was at the start of the semester. Now, Fall was nearly over, and soon it would start to snow. Since that day, you had sat next to Minnie every day in math. Sometimes, the two of you studied together afterwords. She helped you with Algebra, she had this way of solving the problems that you had never seen before, completely different from what the teacher instructed, but it worked. You tried to help her with history, but along the way, you had become her pop-culture teacher instead.

It all started when you mentioned offhandedly your favorite rom-com, which she had never seen. You invited her to watch it at your dorm, and steadily developed the habit of inviting her over to watch anything from your most beloved classics to your latest drama obsessions. Each of them were completely new for her, and you liked to tease that she must had never seen any movie before at all.

During your movie nights, the two of you would cuddle on the couch, watching the screen intensely. You loved how invested she got in every film, how she laughed at the same moments you did, how she held your hand tighter during the really heart-wrenching scenes. 

During one movie marathon, you looked over at her as the movie played, something you had done often– but this time, there were tears in her eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” You nudged her softly, concerned, “Why are you crying?”

“Because! It's sad!” But she was laughing, wiping away her tears.

“But I told you this one has a happy ending!”

“And I told you to stop spoiling the endings! Besides, aren’t you crying, too? 

“What?” You said, surprised she had noticed the slight tears welling in your eyes. You’d seen the movie a thousand times before, but a sad scene was still a sad scene. “No way…” 

You turned back to the screen, but Minnie was still looking at you. Had you still been looking back at her, you might have noticed that her teasing grin had softened into something warm and fond. 

She hummed, “Your eyes– it looks like they have stars in them.”

“That’s just the T.V. glow…”

“And the tears,” she added, and you scoffed.

But as she returned her focus to the movie still playing, Minnie rested her head on your shoulder, closer to you than before. You hoped, in that moment, that all the stars in your eyes could hide the flush in your cheeks, the way you were now suddenly aware that her hand had been holding yours the entire time.

✰★

Minnie was a fast learner. She had far outpaced your math course since the start. She had taken up reading history books in her free time, and now she could practically teach you, instead of the other way around. She joined the art and writing clubs and was steadily building skills in each.

Minnie had learned you, too. All your little habits. She knew your favorite drink, and somehow always showed up with one from the vending machine when you were having a bad day. She could somehow always catch you when you stared at her, meeting your eye when you had been just about to look away. 

She had a way with words, too, really. You couldn’t explain it, but she always knew what to say. She knew what kind of compliments to give you, the genuine, well-thought-out kind that anyone would treasure. And she knew how to comfort you, whether it was a joke or some reassurance, or usually, from her, a healthy mixture of both. 

But the most remarkable thing that she had learned was the ability to sing. When you told her that her voice was like the perfect dessert– a tiramisu, maybe– she almost died laughing before asking what you meant. But the metaphor made perfect sense to you. Minnie’s voice was warm and comforting. But it was strong and powerful, too. It wasn’t too light, it was substantial. It wasn’t too heavy either, but it could be rich. It wasn’t too sweet and it wasn’t too bitter. 

With her voice, Minnie could convey any emotion beautifully. You often thought that every movie you’d ever seen would have become an instant masterpiece if only Minnie’s singing was the soundtrack. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Minnie turned to you as your math class ended. The students around you swarmed out the doors and towards the library– it was finals season, after all, “Are you doing something after class?”

“Studying.” You said decisively, thinking about your exams. “Ah, do you wanna study together?”

“Do you have time to hear a song first? A song I wrote?” 

This was the first time you had heard of her writing her own songs. Suddenly, all thoughts of studying vanished. 

“Of course,” you said. “Let’s go.”

She grabbed your hand, and the two of you practically ran out of the stuffy lecture hall. Minnie led you out of that building and towards the music one, where the private practice rooms were. She flung open the door to a small room with a keyboard. 

Sitting there in front of the keys, backlit by sunlight streaming through the window, she looked like she belonged there. The gemstones under her eyes glinted as she smiled up at you, one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen on Minnie before. 

“Ready?” Minnie asked.

“No. Yes.” You laughed, “Why am I the nervous one?”

“No idea. It's cute, though.”

With that– leaving your eyes widened and heart beating somehow even faster– she began to play the first notes.

“I’ll be landing on your mind…” She began to sing. 

And her voice transported you to another world. The melody was celestial, the voice singing was heavenly. And the words? The words were so vulnerable– you couldn’t imagine that Minnie had written them, but you also would never believe that anyone else could have. 

As the song ended, you returned to earth, meeting Minnie’s expectant eyes, the slight flush on her cheeks. 

“So?” Minnie asked, “What did you think?”

“... It was perfect.” You started. So perfect, you were at a loss for words. “It was beautiful. Amazing. I mean, you–”

Minnie stood from the bench, never looking away from your reaction. “You inspired it, you know… You inspire me,” She said. 

“I do?” 

She nodded. When you looked at her, you could tell: the moon and the stars that she saw in your eyes were reflected in hers. You almost couldn’t bear it, the look you were sharing, the words to her song still echoing in your head, in your heart.

You looked away first, focusing on the window behind her. 

“H-hey, it's snowing,” You realized, “Its the first snow–”

The two of you rushed to the window, watching the light snow starting to fall from the still sun-filled sky, the people below starting to rush outside to play.

“Wow,” Minnie breathed beside you.

“That song…” You said, “It was really special. I don’t know how to describe it, it was so you… I think I could listen to your voice forever…” You trailed off, suddenly shy, laughing a little at your own words.

“Y/N, this is my first time seeing snow like this. And I’m really happy I’m seeing it with you. My home is so far away… but I feel like home with you. Thats why I wrote the song.”

“Oh. I feel like home with you, too, Minnie. Always.” You said.

“...You know, where I’m from, it snows diamonds,” Minnie said, and you could hear the grin in her voice as you watched the snow.

“Oh really?” You laughed, this time, genuinely. “One day you’ll tell me what it's actually like where you’re from, right?”

“I promise,” And she was laughing, too, a sound as melodic as her music, “But you might not believe me.”

There, standing by the window of the practice room, you realized that you had grabbed Minnie’s hand. At this point it was like second nature for you. To reach for her like it was an instinct but to hold onto her like it was a choice. And you never wanted to let go.

Minnie was beautiful, mysterious, otherworldly. But she was so much more than that. Funny, kind, passionate… genuine. She was yours. And you were hers. You turned to her as she continued watching the snow and made a silent vow to make sure she knew that someday. The same way that she had used her song to tell you.

✰★

#gidle x reader #(g)i-dle x reader #minnie x reader #gidle minnie x reader #gidle fluff #minnie fluff

[csuitebitches]

Book Review/ Notes from: The Psychology of Successful Women

I found the book pretty generic but I liked the fact that she added guiding questions to her strategies, which made it more doable. Here are the notes:

1. Define what success means to you. Ensure that it is healthy and holistic.

2. Note down your goals. “What do i want to be/do/have in my career?”

“A study on goal setting at the Dominican University in California showed you are 42% more likely to achieve your goals if you write them down. Written goals are proven to increase your focus, strengthen motivation and help you come up with a plan of attack to make your dreams a reality.”

3. We need a combination of the right mindset + behaviour in order to actually succeed.

4. Confidence isnt relative to being an extrovert or introvert. Confidence is about having trust in oneself.

A) developing a positive internal dialogue instead of a negative, critical one

B) focus on strengths rather than weaknesses. “.. revealed that people who used their strengths every day were three times more likely to report having an excellent quality of life, six times more likely to be engaged at work, 8% more productive and 15% less likely to quit their jobs.”

C) stop comparison - whether it means logging off social media or unfollowing/restricting certain people.

D) click with people with the same values as you.

E) believe in yourself. It’s not your job to prove yourself to everyone.

5. Developing a personal brand is important. A personal brand is how people see you and what you’re known for. Its important to consider how you present yourself online and offline.

• Your personal (people person/ adaptable/ flexible, etc) and professional strengths (what you really enjoy doing)

• What makes you unique

• Your achievements and qualifications

• Your life experiences

• Your values and the things that are important to you

• Your passions

• Your image

• Your mindset and attitude

• Your behaviour

Ask people around you how they see you - speak to people you deeply trust.

Reflect on that.

How would you like them to see you?

6. Imposter syndrome is often described as a pervasive feeling of self-doubt, inadequacy and incompetence, despite evidence of success.

A. Identity triggers and thought patterns to that lead you to feeling like a fake.

B. Acknowledge your past success and accomplishments. Write a list of some of your achievements and successes. Reflect on some of the great feedback you have received from a client or colleague in the past few months.

7. Boundary setting is a necessary evil. You will feel guilty at first, but it gets easier with time. You dont have to give out excessive excuses, either.

8. Fear of failure: What have you been putting off learning, doing or experiencing personally or professionally, because of fear of failure, or a fear of not being ready? • What can you do this week or month to stretch your comfort zone? • What would you do right now if you knew you absolutely couldn’t fail?

9. “Women tend to apologise a lot more than men in general, even when we have nothing to apologise for – almost out of habit. Do you say sorry a lot? Now this does not mean that we should never apologise, or that we can’t say sorry – of course we can. Just be mindful of over-apologising.”

Phrases to stop saying:

- I’m sorry that our director is unable to come today, you’ll have to put up with me instead…

- Apologies if I’m nervous today, I don’t often speak in public…

- I hope you dont mind but…

- I’m no expert on this but…

10. Stop diminishing yourself. “When we undervalue our role or contribution, we often reflect this in our language, and talk like what we do is not that important. Furthermore, when we don’t genuinely value ourselves, we may start to convince others of the same. People will often mirror back to us how we feel or speak about ourselves.”

11. “People with high levels of resilience think and act in ways that help them cope with change and setbacks. For example, they are flexible and can adapt to changing situations. They also tend to be positive and hopeful – believing the future can or will be better – even if they are in the middle of a challenge. Highly resilient people also don’t tend to dwell on setbacks and things they can’t change.”

Strategies:

1. Dont be afraid to ask for help. “People who are good at reaching out to others, talking about their challenges or setbacks, asking for help and then accepting that help, tend to cope better.”

2. Control what you can control. Do not focus on things you can’t control or change.

#c suite #powerful woman #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #strong women #getting your life together #feminine energy #balance #book review #successful women #success #psychology

[softtcurse]

The kids missed you

the harlow kids waiting for their dad’s return

My pet peeve is a camera in my face

Have you ever heard of personal space?

I walk around town in a hoodie and some shades

But now they starting to recognize the shades

Even if you hate me, you would trade

You would live this life too 'cause I got it made

I like my bed made, soon enough, I'll have a maid

When I buy a house, every surface gon' be suede

“Daddy when you coming home?” Mila asks as she holds your phone in her hands. Her hair was up in a small pink towel, her damp curls towel drying before you did her hair for the night. Ezra in his little mover walking around, chunky legs kicking in excitement when you walked in with a pacifier to keep him preoccupied before it was his turn to talk to this father.

“Soon baby, why? You miss your old man?” Jack asks with a grin as he watched his mini me look at him, her big eyes staring back into his soul.

“Your not old daddy!” Mila laughed and threw her head back. “Did you buy me somefing?”

“Mila, you know daddy is working. Not going out to get you all the toys to fill up your closet twice” You playfully scolded her and shook your head. You knew Jack would be back with toys for both of the kids. Even Ezra who has just barely started to stand up on his own.

“Hmmm I don’t know, have you been good for momma?”

“I have! Right momma? I help you wif Ezzie and clean up my toys?”

“She’s a very good helper baby, I’d be a shame on you if you didn’t bring her anything back”

“And i even ate all my dinner today” Mila held her head up high and smiled proudly. She had developed a habit of wanting to eat nothing but grilled cheese or a pb&j and refusing to eat anything else. But you took your time to introduce her to other new foods she might like. Which in return ended up with a clean plate that had been previously cut up with her dinner; marinated pork chops, with homemade Mac and cheese and some roasted veggies.

“Even the broccoli and carrots?” Jack eyes her threw the phone.

“Yes! I promise!”

“Okay then, if you’ve been good then I guesss I’ll buy you something I saw at the mall last night”

Your little girl couldn’t contain her excitement and she bounced on the bed with her knees.

“Go get your brush baby, so I can finish doing your hair before daddy has to go, and Ezzie can talk to him too”

Mila nods and hands you the phone, running off with her pajamas crinkled to one side.

“You ready to see your son?” You laugh and lift the camera so he could see you more clearly. You looked tired and you knew you did. But you were also a mom and that’s what it took. Your day consisted of waking up at 7 am since that’s when Mila usually woke up, and with that came Ezra deciding he was ready for the day. Running errands with two kids and then coming back in time to make lunch and get dinner prepped. You had no time to yourself and although it was very exhausting, it was all worth it to see your babies growing up right in front of your eyes. You knew many mothers didn’t have the luxury you did to stay at home with their kids. You felt very fortunate.

“Yeah but first I wanna talk to you, what you wearing underneath that shirt hmm?” Jack asked you, you see him start playing with his beard and a stupid grin on his face that you loved so much. It was one of the many reasons why you ended up pregnant twice.

“Nothing, because my boobs are leaking and it’s getting so annoying and I have carrot and peas gerbert all over my other shirt” You explained and smiled at Ezra who looked up at you with a giggle and a toothless smile.

“Damn, that’s so fucking sexy. Got me bricked up right now”

“You’re an ass” You laughed and shook your head. Tears nearly in your eyes on his much you laughed. He was a charmer at all means necessary.

“Mamamamama” You looked away from the phone to see Ezra. His head tilted to the side to try and see you better like the momma’s boy he was.

Flipping the camera you let Jack look at him.

“Definitely takes after his dad”

“You making sure mom’s not texting other motherfuck-“

“Jackman! No!”

“Damn full name, who hurt you?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. Kneeling down next to Ezra and turning the camera back to the front view.

“Who’s that Ezzie? Are you so excited?” You asked your soon who started bouncing on his mover. Ezra shared the same smile as Jack it was almost scary. 9 months of having him inside you and he was like a copied imagine of Jack, more than Mila is. Ezra had a patch of curls already growing.

“My mannnnn, daddy misses you!” You see Jack’s eyes light up again at the sight of his other baby. He’d missed Ezra standing up and you remember how it had broken him to miss a milestone.

“Say ‘I ate all my dinner dada, and I was so good for momma during bathtime’ , tell me Ezzie” You grabbed Ezra’s chubby hand and moved it a little bit. Your son’s lips suckled on a pacifier and he brought up another hand and started reaching to the camera.

“Did you!?”

You watched as Mila ran back into the room, sitting next to Ezra’s moved on the floor to talk to Jack as much as she could before it was time for her.

You loved your family so much, and you knew it was milking Jack to be away from the both of them. You too, of course.

///

But for now, I got a concierge downstairs

All my neighbors are gray-haired

They don't recognize me and I don't think they care

But my Postmates can't believe that I stay here (fuck)

I wanna go back to Kentucky and shut down the state fair

Visit my old teachers and tell 'em to take care

I might take a whip instead of paying the plane fare

I still remember the way there (way there)

Ain't a girl in my hometown I can't have now

Buy a building in cash, ain't putting half down

The hate used to get to me, I just laugh now (laugh now)

Yeah, they fucking with Jack now

Look how they act now

Look how they act now

Look how they act now

Look how they act now

They fucking with Jack now, they fucking with-

“Is daddy going to call tonight momma?” You looked down at Mila. Her eyes filled with tears and you saw a few tears rolled down her plump cheeks. Her tiny fingers playing with the string of her blanket. You looked at your phone and saw the time 8:30, 30 minutes later than he said he would call. You sighed softly as you heard Ezra start fussing through the baby monitor. Bedtime was at 8, and Mila herself was getting cranky from her sleeping schedule being interrupted. That, with Jack not calling yet was making her very upset.

“He’ll call baby, you know daddy’s very busy right?” You asked her, softly stroking her hair as she looked up at you with her big teary eyes. Your heart tinged a little, you hated seeing her so upset.

“I sad mommy”

“I know my love, I know” You kisses her head softly. Her stare at your phone never ceased. Soft hands gripping her stuffy as if she almost let sleep win and defeat her from waiting for Jack’s call.

You were almost near saying your goodnight to her when your phone immediately started ringing.

Mila shoots up and gives you and excited look. Which you couldn’t help to laugh at. Her droopy eyes held their happiness as she waited for you to answer the call. Once you did, a very visibly tired Jack look at the camera. His curls were damp and you could tell he had recently gotten dressed from a long shower and was laying in his hotel bed.

“Daddy! I though you wasn’t gonna call!”

“I can never forget my favorite girl? Are you crazy!?” Mila giggled and tossed her head back.

You noticed Ezra settled down too through the baby monitor. Little did you know it was because he heard Jack’s voice through the baby monitor. You spaced out a little bit, smiling big ear to ear as you heard Mila recap her entire day to her favorite person in the world.

///

Baby, I'm coming home, I know the kids miss me

I need some time with my friends to sip whiskey

I spent the last 12 months locked in

But tonight, I'm content with existing

2015, we was on that Pen Griffey

I wanted what he had, but the shoes didn't fit me

Now the city with me and I got the kids listening

And I'm a smooth operator by instinct

Dinner on the stove. The sweet smell of a braised brisket filling your kitchen. A soft song playing from Jack’s new album. State fair.

You had fresh rolls in the oven too. A glass of red wine sitting on your counter top. It felt so real. It felt so right. You heard Mila sing along to some TV show song she was watching before dinner. Ezra sitting in his playpen messing around with some toys he had been given. You let out a soft sigh. Cleaning your hands with a white kitchen cloth. 2 days. 2 days before the love of your life would be back home. Two days before your kids could see their dad again. Two days before you could feel like a complete family again. You were over the moon, and a little bit annoyed. Two days seemed so far away yet so close.

You talked to Jack every night after the kids said goodnight to him. The conversations you both had were some you would never forget. He was a sweet talker at heart. Two kids later and he had you feeling like a teenager. Sitting on your bed with your feet kicked up.

“You ready for dinner Mila?” You asked. Walking into the living room. Mila was no where to be found. “Mila!?” You asked. Your chest felt heavy. It was a big house, and of course just like a true mom all the worst thoughts in the world ran through your head. Ezra was in his play pen. Giggling up at you and rattling a toy.

You picked up Ezra and walked around the house. Opening the pantry, the closet in the hallway, the laundry room. She was no where to be found.

That was until you heard some rumbling coming from upstairs, possibly her bedroom.

You ran up the steps as safely and as fast as you could holding a 8 month old.

You yanked opened Mila’s bedroom door open. A sigh of relief leaving your lips as you watched her clean up around her room in a haste.

“What are you doing baby? You scared me half to death!”

“I’m cleaning momma!” Sure, Mila was very organized. A lady, you liked to call her. However you had never seen her so excited to clean.

“That’s good that you want to be clean but you have to tell momma, you can’t just leave” You leaned down and kissed her forehead. Ezra babbling to his sister and reaching for her. It was no secret he loved her so much. Mila placed a kiss on Ezra’s chubby cheek.

“I have’ta clean before daddy gets home momma! When he come in at nigh’ he don’t fall” Mila explained to you, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You let out a soft laugh and nodded. “Makes sense, don’t want him hurting his tushy huh?”

“Nope! I don’ wan’ daddy’s tushy to hurt like last time” Mila let out a soft giggle.

///

A soft breeze flew right there the window. It was a nice cool Kentucky night. It seemed as if the whole world had gone to sleep. Except for the few murmuring voices from your neighbors on their late night walk. They were an older couple but they were very sweet, and they absolutely adored Mila and Ezra.

Your eyes flickered down from your soft day dream. Your nightgown pulled down the side. Your hands held Ezra’s body. Your other hand holding his head up as he ate his late dinner. His long eyelashes brushing up his eyebrows, and whenever he would look down for a moment you saw them cascade down his chunky cheeks. His tiny hand resting on top of your breast. Equally small nails grazing over your skin. His eyes that reminded you so much of Jack’s looked up at you. Filled with wonder and love. He was so small but you knew he saw you as his world.

You were his provider, his protector since the day he was conceived. You felt like he knew that too. The love radiating from your body was no secret. Ezra’s soft pout suckled his food. It seemed for a few minutes the only sound that echoed in the room other than the wind was the soft suckling sound of your son eating.

“Are you a hungry boy tonight?” You whispered to him. Running a finger down his forehead. His eyes shutting softly. You grinned and placed a kiss to his forehead.

The sound of a car, and a few voices filled your ears.

He was home.

3 long months.

You stayed in your position.

5 minutes, 6 minutes. The door opened and shut.

7 minutes, 8 minutes Mila’s bedroom door opened. You heard him speak soft words to her, that was between the two of them. Unspoken words between him and his daughter. He could be telling her the secrets of the universe for all you knew, and still you would let them have their moment.

12 minutes, 15 minutes.

You heard your bedroom door open. Your hair was tucked away in a bun. Your legs covered with the soft duvet.

Jack’s eyes landed on Ezra first. Quietly wheeling his bags behind him. He shifted his eyes to you. You could see the shine of his chain from the moonlight pouring from the window. His blue jumpsuit too.

“Hi”

“Hey”

You waved.

“We can do better than a wave mama”

You giggled and watched him walk over to you. Pressing a heavy kiss to your lips. His lips tasted like mint. You hummed and nodded towards you son who was looking up at him now.

“They missed you so much”

“I know the kids missed me, did Mrs. Harlow miss me?”

You gave him a wondering look, as if you were debating if you missed him or not.

“Stop playin with me”

You snickered and placed a soft kiss to his jaw. “Of course I missed you”

#jack harlow fic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfic

[hanasnx]

“I like it when you’re jealous,” you say as you take off his clothes. Anakin, through gritted teeth, “yeah and i’m getting real tired of it.” 🫠🤤🥴 I’m dead that what so hot!!! And omg please I would love for you to explore the idea of Anakin being jealous again, maybe how it would differ after him and the reader became an actual couple, if you have time ofc 💓💓💓

ill make time for steamy anakin romance any day anon— im so happy u told me what u liked most about that post!! it always makes me happy to know what lines got u :D

i needed a break from writing my halloween themed kinktober fic for anakin anyway ;)

☥ so anakin is obviously painfully aware of how sexy you are. his dick has ached for you more times than he can count. being so inexperienced before you meant being horny and being horny for you are synonymous bcos he conflates the two

so he thinks that a lot of other men feel that way about you too, even if he doesnt realize he thinks that way

☥ anakin is definitely toxic to an extent, so once you two become an actual couple im sure it’d be a problem that you have to face together.

☥ sometimes you don’t realize youre flirting, you’re naturally flirtatious as a personality trait, something youve adopted because it paid off in your last job, and it pays off now.

it’s a habit youre trying to break, and sometimes it slips out. and damn does it piss anakin off.

“you’re leading them on on purpose!”

“well it was necessary before! i’m still working on it, ani,”

“i think you like the attention.”

“oh? is that how you feel?”

“you get some sick satisfaction from guys thinking they have a chance with you.”

“and it doesn’t excite you that they never will?”

he side eyes you. “don’t turn this around like that,”

“c’mon, anakin, don’t you get some ‘sick satisfaction’ out of men thirsting after your girl only to be denied and forgotten?”

“you can’t say you whore yourself out to other guys for me.”

“but i can say you like having something no one else does.”

the way he fucking looks at you, tonguing his cheek with this heated glint in his eye. KDJF you better be ready to get fucked in half

☥ he gets so worked up over it, and you hate that he’s right about you liking the attention. it’s so tough to catch yourself in the act and clip it. anakin develops quite the routine with you

“i saw you talking with that scum like he had a shot. even if you weren’t with me you’d never even look in his direction. i’m starting to think it gets you off knowing you’ll be punished at home.” he’d tell you while he’s balls deep inside of you in a mating press

“ani! too deep! too deep!”

“i don’t care. you wanna act like a slut? take it like one.”

☥ this would happen so often that he pops a boner when he sees you flirting around. your hand bracing on a strangers arm when you laugh at their joke. letting them put a hand over yours on a table. whispering something naughty in your ear so you playfully hit them and meet anakin’s gaze from across the room.

like when a dog salivates at the sound of the dinner bell, anakin knows you just signed yourself up for being his personal toy tonight.

☥ “i bet he’s thinking about you, you know,” he’d tell you, while you were overstimulated and unraveling over him. his tip kissing your cervix mercilessly, thumb running over your clit, awaiting your next orgasm. “smiling at the thought of you. wondering when he’ll see you next. has no idea you’re here, getting fucked by your lover until you forget your own damn name.”

☥ being an actual couple means he has a little more reign in what he’s allowed to say to you, and what he’s allowed to do to you should you stray

its fun for him to reclaim you, and it’s fun for you to basically get a guaranteed rough fuck—

☥ “i can’t blame you for being so magnetic, princess, men flock to you ‘cause they’re human. it’s got me thinking,”

“about what, baby?”

“maybe if i fuck a baby into you, the question of if you belong to anyone’ll be answered.”

“ani—“

#anon #thanks for the msg!! #indy shoots the shit #star wars #anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #the clone wars #tcw #sw #jealousy #established relationship #x y/n #x f!reader #x fem!reader #x female!reader #anakin skywalker imagine

[briefcasejuice]

Hi! :D I’m avoiding course work and I’m just genuinely curious.

Now it’s been a while since I’ve been into comics/superheroes but when I first followed you I remember you enjoyed the Netflix Defenders series, more specifically DD. Can I ask why u don’t as much anymore?

that's so real of you

the more i got into the comics the more i realised how very much sucks the route they took in the dd show upheld a lot of ableist, racist and white christian (the distinction of them using catholicism over any other branch of christianity is important to my establishing of the choice's explicit whiteness (but specifically in correlation to the concept of white supremacy)) beliefs which kind of acted in direct opposition to matt murdock's original characterisation. there's also a fundamental misunderstanding of the comics in general and how each run related to each other and what they meant for the title as a whole and this misunderstanding definitely negatively affected the show's plot and how it went about establishing and developing relationships. then, the fanbase is even worse; it not only upholds but also adds onto and perpetuates the heteronormative and ableist aspects of the tv show by infantalising and dehumanising matt murdock but at the same time, carnally desiring the seeing man that plays him while willingly ignoring what the racism and changing of many aspects of matt's core beliefs to be directly aligned with catholicism means about the messages the writers and directors wanted the show to portray. at first, it's just petty annoyances here and there but looking at the root causes of fandom discourses is kind of stomach turning; these fandom discourses worsen because when you think about it, putting ableist and heteronormative people who are fixated on a catholic character in one, very small and echo-y space breeds the worst fandom habits i've ever experienced -- who would have guessed? there's a very specific kind of ego attributed to the fanbase that's akin to that of mcu twitter bros in which they refuse to read the source material and when you look for any kind of reasoning for this, it jumps right out at you: reading the comics in which matt murdock's personality isn't propped on these harmful, very christian and white societal ideals means explicitly confronting their own morals, especially when it comes to humanising disabled people (which they can never do because in the end, they were attracted to charlie cox and not matt murdock specifically) and even perhaps entirely discarding the idea of enjoying/understanding a character they're either not attracted to or one they are, but they feel they shouldn't be attracted to.

also i'm just very hyperfixated on mike murdock and have been for almost two years straight.

#answered

[littleoddwriter]

Hey I saw you're requests were open so I thought I'd give it a shot. I been a fan of your writing for years asspecialy roman x male reader.

So I was wondering if you could do roman sionis x male reader, who copes with life with starving himself and using drugs.

I completely understand if that's a lot and if you don't feel comfortable writing it for any reason whatsoever I more than understand. Please put you're well being first please. You're writing has always been a big comfort to me and tge past few months haven't been the easiest and yeah 😅

Keep up the amazing work and remember to take care of yourself, I'm really sorry if this was uncomfortable to read or has waisted your time

Coping | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

Hey there! Thank you so much, first of all!!! That really means a lot to me, so, thank you! And thank you for your request and trusting me with something so personal. I hope the story I wrote for it can give you some comfort and that I've done your request justice. Please stay strong and keep on going. I'm happy you're here and I hope things will get better for you! <3 Take care! <3 summary; See above. notes; Male!Reader; Implied Past Traumas; Mentioned Drug Abuse (Cocaine & Heroin); Mentioned Disordered Eating Habits; Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms; Emotional Hurt/Comfort.

Having been dealt a pretty bad hand in life, you have developed unhealthy and self-destructive coping mechanisms to get through your days. Rationally, and always in the back of your mind, you knew that what you were doing to cope with the negativity and difficulties in your life, you only made things worse. 

Starving yourself didn’t make your issues go away, and neither did the drugs. Of course not. But substance abuse has given you those much needed breaks from your own mind and the bullshit you had to deal with day in and out. Not eating - or rather, very rarely - was mostly a form of self-punishment. A method you’ve learned early in your life.

After meeting Roman, things had been going well for a little while. You ate pretty often because of your dinner dates with the other man; although your portions were fairly small. And you did lines of cocaine with Roman together, which definitely made it seem like it wasn’t so bad after all.

You’ve been feeling pretty happy when you were with him. That was new. You liked it. And you definitely liked him.

Deep down, you knew it wouldn’t last though. This natural high of being with Roman. 

It only took one new traumatic experience, which was a painful reminder of your terrible past, to let everything crash down and burn. 

When you met with Roman and he wanted to have a meal with you, you refused. You said that you weren’t hungry and he accepted it after a small fight. He hated not having his way, but he also knew when to let go. At least, he did with you. 

But the more often it occurred, the more suspicious he became. 

The next time you saw him, it was unexpected. You had just done a shot of heroin before he barged into your small, dirty apartment.

“I hate being played with, Y/N,” Roman stated angrily, uncaring of the fact that he had just crashed your high. 

You simply looked at him with heavy eyelids, trying hard to focus on him standing in front of and above you as you were slumped on your worn-down couch. 

Frowning, Roman snapped his gloved fingers in front of your face, “Are you not listening to me?” 

As he asked this, you made a small sound in the back of your throat, humming softly in acknowledgment. 

“What’s your problem?” you responded eventually, rubbing your hands over your scruffy face.

Roman fixed you with a piercing glare, sniffing in disdain, “You are.”

That woke you up a little, as though somebody had poured a bucket of ice water over your head.

“What do you mean?” you asked dumbfounded.

“The fact that you’ve been fucking avoiding me! You keep standing me up when I want to meet you.  We haven’t even fucked in a while,” Roman huffs with annoyance, “If you don’t want to see me anymore, then just fucking say so, but don’t you fucking dare lead me on!” 

Sitting up straight, you held up your hands in a placating manner.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you rushed the words out, “Roman, no. I don’t… Fuck…” 

With a deep sigh, you put your head into your hands, scratching your scalp in frustration. 

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m not leading you on, I promise!” you said urgently, looking back up at Roman with pleading, bloodshot eyes.

As suddenly as his anger usually appears, the fight left Roman’s body and he sat down next to you on your couch. He was trying hard not to make a comment about the state of your apartment, let alone your couch, or you, but you could see the disgust in his features before he schooled his expression.

“Then what’s going on with you?” Roman asked in a surprisingly soft voice. You could even detect a hint of vulnerability in it. 

For a long moment, you simply looked at him and debated with yourself. Should you tell him the truth? Would he leave you if he knew how broken you really were? 

The longer your gaze held his, you felt your resolve break until you broke down in tears as all of your repressed feelings suddenly came to overwhelm you. 

It took Roman a few seconds to act, but he put his arms around you and pulled you close at last. He didn’t say anything and just let you cry into his shoulder. He would probably make you pay for his ruined suit jacket one way or another, but that would be a problem for you in the future. And maybe it didn’t matter as much to him now anyway. 

Through your pained sobs and stinging tears, you explained it to Roman. You told him about your traumatic past, your coping mechanisms, your current situation that led to you neglecting your relationship with him. All of it spilled out of you without a way of stopping it.

When you were slowly calming down, Roman kept his arms around you and rubbed your back soothingly. 

“Well, I didn’t expect that,” Roman mused, “but I’m glad you’re not fucking with me.” 

Knowing Roman, this was as close as you’d get to any sort of response to what you just told him. It was also the closest thing to reassurance from him. He didn’t get up and leave. He didn’t scream at you. He simply held you close and comforted you in his own way. 

“We’ll have to find you some better coping mechanisms, though. And stop punishing yourself by not eating for fuck’s sake!” Roman continued after a few long moments. It made you smile weakly. 

“I’ll try,” you responded hoarsely. 

“Yeah, yeah, ‘I’ll try’, my fucking ass. You’re going to move in with me and I’ll watch you eat a full meal at least once a day. Got it?” 

There it was. Roman’s way of showing that he actually cared.

For a minute or so, you were so stunned by his, well, demand, that you completely forgot to respond, until he nudged you with a huff, “Got it?”

Weakly, you nodded, “Yea- yes, okay. Sounds good.”

“Good,” he smiled brightly. “Because remember, you’re my boy now and I like to take care of my things.”

#it's been way too long since I've written a full short story so I hope this is good enough ^^' #roman sionis #male reader #roman sionis x male reader #fanfiction #fanfic #jesse.writes

[freddief4gb34r]

How would the Sawyers comfort someone who’s been in a really bad depressive episode?

ooooh fun one (good to read over when it hits me)

« how the sawyers would comfort someone in a depressive episode (platonic) »

all platonic, no pairings, hurt/comfort, lowercase intended

bubba

more likely to sort of understand? i mean, they don’t get it, but she’s definitely the most empathetic.

would offer to do your makeup or show you fun clothes and masks

however, if he’s working, you’re kinda shit out of luck for any comfort.

you’d have to wait until they were less busy for any sort of sympathy.

because she can’t really speak and also has a bit of a hard time understanding social cues (down syndrome hc goin crazyyy) it might be a while before she picks up on it

i mean eventually he will, and he’ll try to help in the best way they can

but they’d likely be more of a pillow kinda guy for comfort

definitely takes more consideration into how she communicates (if thats the issue)

if its a living person, depending on how close you are, he might kill them, but i doubt it since he lacks bloodlust

however, like i mentioned, they’re a very pillow-person, just there if you need to sit down, hug someone, get it off your chest, see how you feel

if you’re at a point where you’re not showering or taking care of yourself, they’d start leaving your stuff closer (toothbrush, hair brush, expired ibuprofen, etc.)

but otherwise a bit clueless

but would definitely take you to collect flowers and pet the chickens if you’re in need of extra seratonin

nubbins

he’d be the SLOWEST to notice

like im so serious about that

it takes this man a WEEK to realize

“OHHHHHHHHH” when he does

very upfront and straightforward about figuring out and what he thinks

starts out like an annoying little brother about it

“don’t kill yourself lol” type shit

he’d try to be sympathetic for a bit but honestly doesn’t know what to do

he’d just take funny or pretty photos and come offer them to you

“yo do you want these”

he thinks that if it makes him happy it’ll make you happy so expect at least one dead animal, an oddly stalker-esc photo of you, and a single bone

he shows care through gifts that he enjoys and assumes other people will enjoy

but he’d offer to let you walk down roads with him for the sunlight or collect roadkill with him (sucks if ur squeamish)

if you stopped taking care of yourself, he wouldn’t be able to tell

he would just think that you’re like him

which only upsets him a little, because even if his head is in the clouds mostly, he can tell that it’s not very good to have his hygiene/coping habits???

he couldn’t tell you why it’s bad but he knows it’s not good

chop top/bobby

notices a bit quicker than nubbins

not by much, but by enough

also an annoying little shit about it, but sort of knows when to stop

he himself struggles with issues like this

but for the love of all you hold dear do NOT LET HIM ADVISE YOU ON COPING MECHANISMS

this man copes with alcohol, cocaine, weed, and drunk driving

and only one of those are okay

he’d offer to go out drinking with you or drop some acid, please do not do that

it’d be fine to go drinking ONCE but try not to develop his habits

otherwise he’d play a bunch of music in your room and info-dump about bands until you inevitably tell him you need to sleep

but he’d take his music with him so unless you’re okay with that he’d sleep on the floor

starfish position and all

he’s not sure what else to do honestly

but he’s there if you need to talk

he will not respond though (this also applies to nubbins)

if you stopped taking care of yourself, he’d start leaving old (stolen) bleach by your bed because he thinks it smells good

in his brain, item smells good -> person will start smelling good

please don’t allow this, but thank him for the sentiment

drayton

fastest to notice

he himself has them, but powers through them (not healthy dont do this)

because he was suppressed throughout his entire life and his heart was squashed

however, it still beats

he’d try to ease up on the insults and how he tells you to get to work, tries to be less loud and aggressive

but he will not take chores away, sorry, shits gotta get done in this house

he’d feel a bit of pity, but he’d never voice it openly

he’d just look at you very sadly (sad cat moment)

if you stopped caring for yourself, the most he’d do is offer you some food and a hose

why a hose? shower

he kind of knows that it’s important to stay clean when someone’s like this (he does this)

also when he’s using the hose on you, the twins join to run around like it’s a sprinkler, sometimes bubba if they have time

but that’s also a kind of forceful “get in the fucking water” (sorry if u got rabies L)

he’d tell bobby to get you something

too chickenshit to do it himself

also definitely lets you rant about whatever’s bothering you or just how you’re feeling, but if you get redundant and/or repetitive he will go on his old man shit

“back in my day—“

try to leave when that starts

but he’s definitely the most understanding

and he can only offer one thing that might help quickly

a blanket and a hot meal

might say something about it being a hassle when he’s hosing you down though (it’s not he just likes to complain)

also might mumble that you’re slacking but thats on impulse, he knows you’re not trying to

can u tell who my favorite is yet/hj

my apologies if i didn’t cover something, feel free to let me know and i’ll try to adjust accordingly

#the texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw #texas chainsaw 2 #the texas chainsaw massacre 2 #tcm #tcm 2 #tcm drayton #tcm nubbins #tcm choptop #tcm bubba #leatherface #the hitchhiker #chop top sawyer #choptop sawyer #nubbins sawyer #nubbins #drayton sawyer #bubba sawyer

[blissfullyecho]

Please make a part 2 of the things you don't believe in regards to the self-development community. You give the best advice and have the best insight about things I have never even thought about! Thank you!!!!

unpopular opinions i have on self-improvement (part 2) — get your pitchforks ready

1. i don’t believe in “being gentle with yourself” as an act of self care and personal development. if you are an extremist, then fine— but most people aren’t extremist and they use the “be gentle with yourself” advice to justify laziness. you’re not a little daffodil, you’re an adult human being with adult responsibilities. you being “gentle” with yourself is just you wanting to be babied all the time. get up, get moving.

2. you learning a language does not change the kind of person you are. whenever i search “how to improve myself” and one of the top tips is to learn a language, i scream. learning a language is a great skill to have for obvious reasons, but it doesn’t have anything to do with self-improvement. sure, you learned something new, but you didn’t change as a person. i speak 3 languages, yet i’m the same person. learning a new language is something you should do because you want to do it… not because the internet says it makes you a better person. all learning a language does is it makes you LOOK more well-rounded and traveled. and let’s be real, most of you are not well-traveled to begin with. let’s focus on REAL CHANGE, not facades.

3. journaling doesn’t help with everyone. i hate journaling— my hand hurts and it’s not like i’m going to read what i put down ever again. don’t feel obligated to journal if you don’t like it. i hate it and because i dislike it so much, journaling didn’t work for me. i DO know people like journaling and it helps them, so it’s not like i *don’t* believe in journaling, but i don’t believe it’s a necessity for everyone.

4. “you should forgive yourself”. nope. if you are over the age of 18, you have already learned what’s right vs. what’s wrong. everything you have in your life (after the age of 18) was and still is completely up to you. you chose the habits that led you up to where you are and you made the conscious effort to do so. this doesn’t apply to anyone that’s working on mental illness, but for the rest of you— why are you forgiving yourself? stop acting like you were brain dead before and you just now had an epiphany. we ALL are faced with choices to make everyday; you just didn’t care at the time and now you do. i’m not forgiving my past self for the mistakes i made because i made them consciously. i didn’t show up to my classes, i overate, i didn’t go to the gym, i didn’t study for that test, i didn’t look my best that day, etc. the things you do/don’t do are all choices. i’m not going to forgive myself. i fucked up, end of story. next.

5. “it’s okay to have bad days” advice is something i agree with but disagree with when it’s misused. what i agree with is that we are all going to have bad days. what i don’t agree with is using this as an excuse to not get anything done. i work on myself each day because i don’t have to feel a certain emotion to get what i need to get done. i don’t need to be in a good mood to go to the gym. i don’t need to be in a good mood to take a shower. it’s okay to be in a bad mood, but it’s not okay to use the “i’m just having a bad day” as an excuse to not get your stuff done and that’s where everyone misused the “bad day” advice.

6. this kind of ties in with #5, but i saw on instagram from this annoying “self love” page that we should normalize allowing children to stay home from school to have mental health days and adults being able to stay home from work to have mental health days. that is fucking stupid and it’s breeding victim mentality. coming from someone (me) who has been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, you don’t need a fucking mental health DAY. kids are at school and adults are at work for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. you mean to tell me you can’t prioritize your mental health around those 8 hours each day? your mental health days can be on your weekends— not on days where you/kids have a personal responsibility. this is the real world— your responsibilities will forever be there. you wanting to rest because you’re just not “there” today is not a reason for the world to stop because of you. your job needs you. your mental health does not matter to your coworkers who will have to carry on the extra workload for your “mental health day”. grow the fuck up. again, i’ve been there. it’s not like i haven’t gone through mental health issues before. but if your mental health is so deep, maybe you should stop working altogether and get on disability. that’s always an option.

i already know i’m going to get the “triggered girlies” coming for me on this post. save yourself the time and embarrassment writing me long paragraphs of me being “toxic” and how much i hurt your feelings. i’m a stranger to you— i should not hold that much power over you to be hurt like that lol.

#leveling up #that girl #level up #q/a #self care #femininity #level up journey #self love #hypergamy #personal development #self help #self development #self improvement #self care aesthetic #self worth #self growth #self healing #that girl aesthetic #clean girl aesthetic #clean girl #vanilla girl #coquette aesthetic #coqeutte #leveled up woman #levelling up #level up tips #leveling up tips #leveling up journey #femininity journey #feminine journey

[theculturedmarxist]

The Tumblr Files

Tumblr has a habit of disappearing blogs that it seems to find objectionable. Alas, if only they were full of reactionary content they'd probably have been allowed to stay, but instead they're Leftists of various stripes, which makes them uncomfortable for the owners of Tumblr at best and dangerous at worst.

Regardless of what you think of Musk's purchase of Twitter, one good thing that came out of it was the release of the Twitter Files. Therein we learned of just how closely social media companies like Facebook and Twitter have integrated with the US government and its spying agencies.

Does the FBI have a direct line to TumblrHQ? I can't say for certain. I haven't seen any evidence of it yet, but Tumblr is a massive platform with a lot of reach. Its size alone makes it a prime target for surveillance if only because were the community left to its own devices it might start to develop its own ideas about how the world worked contrary to the bourgeois narrative, or what the US government currently calls "misinformation."

Some things to consider:

First, in the wake of the Democrats' 2016 presidential loss, the Professional-Managerial Class which make up its primary constituencies freaked out. The development of Russiagate was the response. This wasn't just about Trump winning the presidency though. The source of bourgeois terror was that the internet was an unregulated source of information, and people were starting to get the "wrong" ideas, as evidenced by Bernie Sanders immense popularity at the time, and Trump's victory.

Second, Russiagate triggered a concerted spy agency response to root out basically nonexistent "Russian influence" on social media "promoting misinformation." Pressure was put onto SM companies to "do something about Russian election meddling." Twitter's internal research found that there was basically nothing of the kind. This was the wrong answer, so Twitter was compelled by propaganda outlets and the threat of expensive legislation to "do something," and that something was to basically turn over its moderation process to US spy agencies.

30.“REPORTERS NOW KNOW THIS IS A MODEL THAT WORKS” This cycle – threatened legislation, wedded to scare headlines pushed by congressional/intel sources, followed by Twitter caving to moderation asks – would later be formalized in partnerships with federal law enforcement. 31.Twitter soon settled on its future posture. In public, it removed content “at our sole discretion.” Privately, they would “off-board” anything “identified by the U.S.. intelligence community as a state-sponsored entity conducting cyber-operations.” 32.Twitter let the “USIC” into its moderation process. It would not leave. Wrote Crowell, in an email to the company’s leaders: “We will not be reverting to the status quo.”

Why is this relevant to Tumblr? Because it has a large, influential community, which alone would necessitate its surveillance if not control, but especially because Tumblr is hemorrhaging money and is failing to gain ground against its competitors.

TechCrunch reported that CEO Matt Mullenweg spilled the beans during the Q&A, which was cohosted by COO Zandy Ring and attended by a meager 800 users, despite being plastered across every Tumblr account’s dashboard. According to Mullenweg, the platform is spending $30 million more than it’s making as it tries to desperately cling to relevance in its fight against Instagram and TikTok. Moreover, COO Ring explained that the platform is not seeing much of an increase in its userbase.

“People have this impression that we have massive growth right now, and we really don’t,” Ring said during the Q&A.

None of this necessarily means that it's Langley that's getting Leftist users booted off the platform. It could merely be personal biases on the part of the staff, against transsexuals, against pro-Palestinian activists. It does seem arbitrary and capricious enough. If the goal was, say, combating antisemitism by banning pro-Palestinian users, would there be so many fascists and outright Nazis on tumblr? Why does it seem like the majority of those that get banned just happen to be on the side which opposes imperialist Western narratives?

In any case, this markedly underscores that if the Western Left wants any hope of surviving on the web, it can't rely on corporate resources to do so.

#internet censorship #twitter files #spy agencies #social media