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#who you would have thought would have learned maybe something from their first child but they have not
mrsmarinara · 19 hours
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“Can I sleep with you? with timo !!!
I’m All Yours || Timo Meier
Prompt: 29. “Can I sleep with you?”
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: I’m actively fist fighting writers block as I’m posting this. I also didn’t edit this so if my grammar is all over the place we should maybe focus on something else.
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You were stubborn. You knew this and accepted it. Everyone had faults and some people refused to ever look in the mirror and face theirs. However, your stubbornness was not something you had to reflect on and learn about yourself. You had been a stubborn child, something that had gotten you into trouble often, and even now you were a stubborn adult.
Usually, it wasn’t a problem in your relationship.
Tonight was different, though.
Tonight was supposed to be your night together. The season had just ended and you finally had your boyfriend all to yourself. So when the two of you had gone out for dinner, just you and him in what felt like forever, you were delighted. When he looked at you with such admiration in his eyes or when he held your smaller hand within his own as he drove to the restaurant, it felt like a battle to not throw up the butterflies that were fluttering about in your stomach.
When the waitress had come to the table and made it abundantly clear that Timo was going to be at the sole focus of her attention. Every time she giggled or blushed, your heart had sunken deeper and the sips you had taken from your glass of wine had become longer. Timo hadn’t told a joke or shown any interest in her. In all the time the two of you had been together he had never done anything to make you feel as though he even thought of straying away from your relationship.
That wasn’t the point, though, and that was what he didn’t understand. He only looked at you with confusion as you slowly stopped contributing in the conversation. The confusion had turned to irritation when during the car ride back home you were quiet. Your cheeks were warm from the alcohol and there was an envious angry little monster in your chest that just wanted to rear its head.
Your boyfriend was charming, athletic and easy on the eyes. It wasn’t hard to understand the attention that he received and during the hockey season you were fine to step back and watch with a smile as people flocked to him. This was the off-season, though, and it was supposed to be your time with your boyfriend but it seemed as if you couldn’t even have that.
That was what he didn’t understand.
“I can’t control if someone decides to flirt with me,” he had said, annoyed that he even had to have this argument. He thought you would understood that and see that he never indulged those who batted their eyelashes at him.
“That’s not why I’m upset,” you scoffed, not looking at Timo. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your boyfriend and be reminded how even though you felt as though you were entirely his, he was never fully yours.
You had made your way into your shared bedroom and were struggling to undo the straps of your heels when Timo walked through the bedroom door. It only took one glance at the man to know that he was slowly losing his patience. His neatly combed hair was all over the place, probably from running his hands through it.
You looked away. You knew if you really took him in and saw the confused frustration on his face your anger would seep out of your body and for just a little while you wanted to sit in your simmering anger.
“Why are you upset then?” He asked.
When you finally managed to pull your shoes off you sighed and kicked them to the side. Timo watched, noting how you didn’t pick them up and put them in their place in the closet like you usually did.
“Did you even realize that tonight was the first night that we were spending together, alone and to ourselves in months?”
“That’s not true.” Timo said immediately.
“Oh? When was the last time we actually spent time together? Just you and me?” Your voice cracked as you asked him. You knew when the last time was and you were even more certain that Timo didn’t.
“Schatz-,” Timo sighed and took a step closer to you only for you to shake your head and step further away.
“I’ve accepted that I have to share you with everyone but it would be nice if you could actually want to spend time with just me,” you said bitterly.
You grabbed a pillow from your side of the bed when you felt a lump start to form in your throat. You didn’t want to cry but more than that you didn’t want to cry in front of Timo.
“I’m gonna spend tonight in the living room, goodnight.” You dodged his arms as you left your bedroom with your pillow and pajamas in your arms.
He called out for you again but knew better than to come after you. Sometimes you needed a minute to yourself.
However, a few minutes had turned into a few hours and you were still sitting on the couch. At this point, the only thing keeping you in the living room was your own stubbornness. You were still upset but the anger you had felt earlier had slowly ebbed away and now you just wanted to crawl into your comfortable bed and fall asleep in Timo’s open arms. You didn’t want to appear like a misbehaved dog that was coming back to its master with its tail between its legs. You weren’t wrong and a part of you needed your boyfriend to know that too.
You pulled the throw blanket you had pulled from the end of the couch tighter around yourself as you watched the clock that hung on the wall. With each tick that moved the arms of the clock you grew more antsy and after thirty minutes you finally sat up.
Grabbing your pillow and standing up you decided that you would be annoyed with your actions tomorrow. Tonight you just needed to feel your boyfriends strong arms around you.
Padding softly to your bedroom you silently hoped that Timo had fallen asleep. That way you wouldn’t have to explain yourself.
You didn’t get so lucky. As you stood in the door way to your bedroom Timo blinked back at you from your large bed. He wasn’t small by any means but looking on it seemed as if the bed was trying to swallow him whole.
“Can I sleep with you?” It was almost a whisper. You felt childish but also wary asking if. What if he was angry with you for being so upset earlier? You didn’t have anything left in you to fight again tonight.
Without hesitating Timo opened his arms for you. You wasted no time in striding over and crawling into the bed. You dropped your pillow in its usual spot and then promptly ignored it as you laid your head on Timo’s muscular chest. His arms closed around you and the warmth that enveloped you was enough to make you set out a sigh of relief.
Your eyes started to flutter shut as Timo rubbed soothing circles on your warm. You thought you were going to fall asleep without either of you saying anything but Timo whispered in the darkness, “it was during the preseason. When we went on a walk through the park and you ate the entire pretzel we were meant to share.”
You stiffened, jolted into a more awake state by his words.
“What?”
“The last time we spent time together,” he said, quiet and slowly as if he was afraid you’d turn away from him. “Just the two of us.”
“Timo-,” you said, just as quietly. You thought he had forgotten. That once the season started up again the only thing that he thought about was the game he played and those he played with and for.
“You have every right to be angry. Tonight was supposed to be about the two of us and I’m sorry that I didn’t see that you were upset earlier.”
You took in what he was saying in silence. You could hear and feel how sorry he was in the way he spoke and how he held you. The two of you definitely needed to talk more about this but that could wait until the sun was shining and you were both clear minded and awake. Tonight you only needed one thing.
“You’re all mine?”
You asked him, hating how fragile and hopeful you sounded.
He turned his head to the side so his lips brushed against your forehead as he spoke softly, saying the words as though they were a promise, “all yours.”
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teecupangel · 15 hours
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I had an idea for an Altaïr that accepted Al Mualim’s teachings and became his true successor after he dies, basically keeping Masyaf the same after his death with the apple. What would happen if a reincarnated Desmond just appeared in Masyaf one day? I was thinking of Altdes but like super Yandere Altaïr
You wanna make it all the more morally questionable?
Altaïr finished what Al Mualim failed to do.
He managed to use the Apple to control everyone in Masyaf.
When Desmond is transported into the past, Altaïr had already gotten to Saladin and is slowly getting the men King Richard trusts the most under his command.
Desmond was reborn as a nobody in this land… is what he would like to say.
Unfortunately…
Or maybe fortunately?
He was reborn as Jalāl al-Dīn Ḥasan III, the only son of imam of Alamut.
Meaning he’s 22 years old younger than Altaïr…
He was kept in the harem as a child and it was hard to run away from an entire castle filled with Assassins who knew their little prince liked to run away.
He had only met Altaïr once when he was growing up, being able to take peek even after his father ordered him to stay in his room while the mentor of Masyaf was visiting.
He had been sixteen years old.
And Altaïr looked just as handsome as he remembered.
Their eyes met and there was something in his eyes that made Desmond feel… something.
Something both enticing and… dangerous.
One of the Assassins saw him and escorted him back to his room before his father found out.
The following day, his father asked for him and he had been worried that he learned of Desmond sneaking in last night.
Instead, he ordered Desmond to show Altaïr around Alamut which he agreed easily to.
Altaïr’s stay in Alamut was short and Desmond savored every moment of it. He was a bit different from Desmond’s image of him.
More open in his curiosity of Alamut and…
Of Desmond himself.
He knew that Altaïr already had two sons by now.
But Altaïr laughed when Desmond asked about his wife.
He didn’t have a wife.
Desmond thought he was joking.
So Altaïr explained…
His sons’ mother was not married to him. She did him a ‘favor’. In exchange, he ‘assisted’ her in taking over the Templar Order. It’’s because of their ‘trade’ that Altaïr was able to secure an alliance with the newly reformed Templar Order.
Something was wrong.
Desmond has no idea why the timeline was this skewered. He sure as hell knew it wasn’t him.
It couldn’t be him.
He had been too young when Altaïr became a mentor to do anything even when he wanted to.
So he had to find out what happened to change the ‘past’ this much.
And the fact that he knew that there was something between them, something simmering under the surface with each graze of the back of their hands, of each brief touch on the arm, the shoulder, and back…
There was something between them that Desmond knew he was powerless to stop.
He didn’t want to stop.
So he asked his father if he could stay in Masyaf for a while, be some kind liaison or something.
He had been surprised when his father said yes.
He should have questioned it.
Instead…
He was just glad that he could stay with Altaïr longer.
.
[Why are you bringing that child?]
“Jealous?”
[You do not need that child.]
“He’s not a child, is he? He doesn’t feel like one.”
[He knows nothing.]
“No one does. Only we know how this past must become to pave way to a better future. Is he not part of your Calculations?”
[He is inconsequential.]
“Then it doesn’t matter if I have him then if that’s true.”
[…]
“He sounds a lot like you. But he’s more… not innocent. No. That’s not the right word… ‘mortal’.”
[Altaïr, do not forget your pact with me.]
“I prefer to call it our vows but what do I know? I am but the first of your many, aren’t I? But he… he’s mine and mine alone.”
[Do not let him distract you.]
“When have I ever failed you? I know what he is. I can see it in his glow. He’s like you… he is you, isn’t he?”
[…]
“Is he my reward for being your loyal puppet king, my dear Reader? Or is he an anomaly I can do as I please?”
[… do as you wish but do not forget who you belong to, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.]
“I belong to you but you do not belong to me. But he… Desmond. He will be mine.”
Altaïr stared at the Apple on his table.
The Apple glowed dimly.
[Fine. Do as you wish.]
“I will.” Altaïr tapped the Apple, letting it roll an inch away from him, “Relax, my dear Reader. Aren’t you curious?”
“Who decided to place your human self here in our fixed past?”
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why do so many non-chronically ill people not comprehend that chronically ill means exactly what it says!! an illness that is constant, continuing for a long time, always present.
so yes that does mean it is always affecting me, yes i am still sick/feel bad, yes i am sick/feel bad all the time
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snekdood · 3 months
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i think some ppl dont understand the difference between being full on consciously bigoted + going out of your way to harass a minority and someone who heard phrases from their friends and family while not actually holding any ill will towards whichever minority
#i was both best friends with a black girl in middle school and also had my sister showing me racist videos and stereotypes#did it make me say things that i totally shouldnt have and didnt know i shouldnt say? for fucking sure- regardless i still never personally#saw her as bad or less than or anything at all. it probably helped that my childhood friend was filipino bc i was already exposed to#different people. its like the whole words vs actions thing. ppl would say words to me and i would parrot them thinking i was being#funny like my brother or sister but ultimately i never saw anyone as different than me and never really treated anyone differently either#i was a child who didnt understand the weight or meaning of things i parroted and trusted those around me to know better#since i was literally a fuckin' child. thats kinda what they do. and no one ever really countered me if i did something wrong?#there was one time in like 2nd grade where i had just come from a really christiany catholicy school to a different better cooler school#that was less oppressive and DIDNT require me to participate in church shit and wear a uniform-#and i was still not very exposed to black people at that time yet#so when i was in second grade there was a black kid (different person from my friend in middle school) and we were sitting at a table#and i was just kinda making an observation like 'you're black!' not a negative thing just like 'oh! i understand what this is! i know what#this is ive heard of ppl like this before and maybe met one or two black ppl previously!' lmao and then i followed it up with 'like martin#luther king!' bc he was probably one of the only black ppl i knew about and i literally learned about him when i visited the school for#the first time to try it out in first grade and then apparently everyone thought i was being super offensive??????????????????#??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????#i dont really remember the details and my gma remembers an entirely different thing so idek whats the truth but thats how i remember it#going down. i wasnt trying to be rude or offensive i was just like 'oh you're this! like this person ive heard of! neat :)!' and apparently#it got interpreted as a really bad thing that i said and idk. that was probably one of the weirder experiences i had growing up#like maybe its not always fun to be known for the minority you are bc of a famous person whos of the same minority...?? idk#i still to this day dont know what i said wrong really. i just wasnt exposed to very many black ppl#i knew of like one black girl once at a gymnastics thing i did sometimes and we were friends and i was a tiny tiny child all of this#happening way before 2nd grade and all i remember is her dad and my dad talking and me going to her fancy house to swim in her pool#once. and then i stopped doing gymnastics for whatever reason. so i wasnt exactly super exposed to black ppl frequently.#esp since the christianty-catholicy school was full of rich white kids. and so was my neighborhood at the time.#so i wasnt trying to be mean or offensive to this guy in 2nd grade but it got interpreted that way and then everyone treated me different#bc ig they thought i was a certain way bc the teachers were overreacting a bit. i have no idea. i really just think that one white#girl just liked to bully me and didnt actually have a good reason why and im tired of trying to humor ppl thinking its bc i was a bigot 😒#like i wouldnt be surprisedif nowadays that how she tries to justify it but NONE of what she ever did was calling me out or anything#it was ALLLLL treating me different for being 'weird' in her eyes. but i digress.
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renthony · 1 year
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It's darkly amusing to me that some people thought my mom didn't "discipline" me enough as a kid, were not shy about making sure both she AND I knew it, and now as an adult I'm one of the only people in my friend group who still wants anything to do with their parents. The proof is in the pudding, as they say.
When I was a kid, I broke a ceramic soap dispenser. I burst into tears and was terrified that I was going to be in trouble. My mom told me that it was okay, because accidents happen sometimes, and the important thing was that I didn't do it on purpose and apologized.
When someone else I know was a kid, they broke a dish on accident and got screamed at and guilt tripped. To this day, they have to push down a panic attack at the sound of broken glass, and have had to actively work on healing from that trauma. They will always have to carry that.
I think maybe it's not MY mom who fucked up in the "how to discipline your child" department. Quite frankly, I think the idea of "disciplining children" is fucked up and deeply harmful on a fundamental level.
When a kid does something wrong, you have to teach them how to fix it and do better. Humans are messy and complicated and we don't know everything there is to know just by being born. Children are learning how to be human beings, and that's a really hard thing to learn.
Kids question and fight back against authority that mistreats them, but someone treating them like a human being with human emotions is usually going to have a lot of success. Kids just want to be respected, and it's our job as adults to give them that basic human dignity. The world is utterly terrifying, and made scarier when all the grown-ups seem to hate you and wish you would just shut up and go away, even the ones that claim they want you around.
Kids can be mean, because they're still learning how to socialize and communicate and collaborate. Sometimes you have to give them time to cool off, and sometimes you have to redirect them. Sometimes you have to be firm. Sometimes you have to be an adult, and hone your conflict de-escalation and resolution skills. None of that requires punishment.
And if a child does something truly cruel and fucked up and shitty, and it hurts someone in a big way? My first question isn't "what should their punishment be," my first question is always, "who taught this kid that, and is this child in active danger from them?"
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sweet-as-an-angel · 3 months
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Things Simon Loves About You
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Warnings: Fluff <3, Cosy Headcanons, Simon Being a Hypothetical Animal Crossing Enthusiast, Jealous! Simon :3, Simon Being the Best Boyfriend, Spoilers for Simon’s Backstory, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
He’s secretly enamoured with the way you’ll gently pluck a fallen eyelash from his face and tell him to make a wish on it. The first time it happened, you had to explain to him what this odd ritual meant, what it entailed. You shushed him before he tried to make his wish out loud, telling him with haste that it won’t come true if he told you what it was. When he blew the eyelash from your fingertip, all he could do was look at you and think: ‘but it already came true’.
Though it initially worried him, he loves that you go to sleep late — especially when he finds you zonked out on the sofa, TV on, remnants of your midnight snack escapade scattered across the coffee table. It means he has an excuse to pick you up and bring you to bed, holding you close to him all the while. Most nights, he just stares at you, watching you, wondering how he got so lucky to even have someone exist in the same house with, never mind you.
Nobody likes arguments — especially Simon. Having grown up in an abusive household, they were commonplace in some form or another. But, when he argues with you, he knows that it can easily be fixed. Especially if it’s over something minimal like laundry or cleaning — it gives him the excuse to seek you out and utilise his ultimate love languages: gift-giving and physical touch. Sure, he’ll give you a quiet, verbal apology, too, but his efforts shine through in the way he opens himself up to you, pulling you into a warm hug and not letting you go for as long as you’ll let him.
He loves the nicknames you give him: especially the funny ones. You’ve called him Semen Demon before now — completely unprompted. He couldn’t help but give a deep chuckle, saying “What are you like,” before turning back to what he was doing. This worked a competition between the two of you to see who could create the most cursed nickname for the other.
It’s still going on ‘til this day.
He lives for the inside jokes the two of you have, like a dialect only you know. It makes him feel like he’s truly part of something… normal. Sure, he has the 141, by they are bound in the blood of their profession, not by the sanctity of love. Not the kind of love you two have. He loves it even more when everyone else looks confused when you mark a reference onto you two understand; it makes him feel like you’re talking to him and only him. For the first time, he feels like someone sees him.
He loves when you listen to his music suggestions. It makes him feel like his opinion matters — like what he says matters.
He loves the music you listen to, too. Not even because he likes the songs themselves, but because he knows, somewhere between their instruments and vocals, you have found enjoyment, like a coveted treasure. And that's what brings him enjoyment when listening to them.
Simon’s always been a light sleeper. A trick he learned in childhood. So when you prod him awake to spill your thoughts to him, he’s immediately all ears. And he loves everything you say, no matter how banal or nonsensical. Even when you tell him your worries, his heart swells with the fact that you trust him enough with your perils. That you think, even for a second, that maybe he can fix them.
And he would. Before time can catch him, he’ll do whatever it takes to ease your worries, to destroy them.
He loves that he gets to show you off to the 141 — like a child with an arts and crafts project. He’s a secretive man, but he won’t hesitate to make light of the fact that his partner is absolutely stunning, intelligent, hilarious, loyal, understanding—
You see where this is going.
He even loves how jealous they all look when they see you wearing one of his shirts in all your unfiltered glory, wishing them a good night while you bid Simon his own – a special one. A kiss. Just on the forehead. But a kiss all the same.
He’s dazed for the rest of the evening, trying to hurry his friends uut the door so he can come to bed and see you.
Lazy morning cuddles !!!!!
He’s recently gotten into video games because of you, too.
Secretly a big fan of Animal Crossing. He absolutely would have been one of those people to try and buy Raymond from anyone willing to sell him back in 2020 .
Likes any games that are life simulators. Simple ones — free of life’s stresses.
Loves Harvest Moon. And the Sims (Sims 2 is his favourite).
Although, when he found out you can romance other characters, he felt a bit bad because he felt like it would be cheating on you. Until he found out that you were already leading many a double life on those same games. The moment he found out you’d been romancing a collection of pixels and shapes, he picked you up, slung you over his shoulder and dragged you to the bedroom to “Teach you a lesson.”
All in all, domestic life with you is better than anything Simon could have hoped for. So long as you’re with him, he’s living a life he’s only ever dreamt of. And so help the person who tries to wake him.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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lyneira · 1 year
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♡ 👁👄👁 ♡
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-> how the genshin men would try to sneak glances at you (their crush)
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Tries to be sneaky, ultimately fails
Diluc, Xiao, Scaramouche, Gorou
They'll try to be discreet when looking at you, attempting to sneak glances at you quickly, eyes darting from you to something else. Yet, they’d do it so frequently that they end up being obvious.
Sometimes, when they're staring at you, they get so caught up in the moment, mesmerized and focused on your features that they often react too late when you end up meeting your eyes with theirs. He'll then try to immediately avert his gaze, but you've already caught him and the slight blush on his face isn't helping him make it less obvious either.
Is lowkey about it
Kazuha, Albedo, Thoma, Kaeya, Baizhu, Tighnari
They'd sneak glances at you in a more natural manner in comparison to those in the previous category. Instead of having their eyes dart around, they'd hold their gaze on you for a bit longer before turning away, holding it long enough to take in your current expression and actions. Even if they wanted to hold it longer, they would decide against it as to not seem off-putting.
Also, unlike those who try to be sneaky, they won't freak out if you two end up meeting eyes. They'll even give you a small smile and wave hi to you, softly laughing to himself, 'Ah, they've caught me'. They'll then take this chance to approach you and sweep you off your feet, hehe
You won't ever catch them staring at you
Alhaitham, Ayato, Zhongli, Cyno, Dainsleif
You'll actually have no idea that they were staring at you at all. You'd think that they were solely focused on whatever task they had at hand, whether it was reading a book, working on documents, and whatnot. These guys are extremely subtle when peeking a glance at you.
Even when you thought they were looking, they'll make it so convincing to you that they were simply "looking at the clock" or "checking" on something else.
They'd actually prefer that you thought they weren't paying you any mind. That way, they could see you as your unfiltered self, without you being conscious of them looking at you. He was able to learn more about you, seeing more of the real you. He'd observe the numerous details of your visage, the small reactions you'd let out, when something made you furrow or soften your brows, when something made you pout and he'd take special note of when something made your face brighten into the most beautiful smile. Maybe he'll reproduce that lovely reaction of yours in his own way. After all, he found it all adorable.
Won't even try to hide it
Itto, Kaveh, Venti, Heizou, Childe
They will be completely obvious, whole body turned towards you and eyes glued to your figure.
They have zero shame in staring directly at you, and sometimes, it might not even be intentional. Some of them might be staring subconsciously at you. They can't help but stare when they admire you oh so much. Admiring you is their favorite past time. Heck, some of them WANT you to know they're looking at you. That they like you. That you're the apple of their eye, heh
Their intense gaze might even cause you to be the one who turns away first because these dudes will become the definition of 👁👄👁💘 LOL
(If you tell them that it's rude to stare, then I can see them pulling a "sorry, I just couldn't help getting lost in your beauty", especially Venti, Heizou, or Childe LMAO)
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© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
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toast-on-dandelioms · 5 months
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Disclaimer
I am not the biggest fan of dc but I do know the story and everything, so if any character from the batfamily is wrong please tell me so I will try to fix it.
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Another story of Neglect
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You were another one of Bruce's children, born by one of his nightstands with a model to which he just gave child support and didn't really visit.
You never cared, you didn't even know that he was your father since you were happy with just your mom and the life you were living at the moment, but everything changed because of a stupid drunk driver that ended up crashing the car against your mom's one and killing both of them at the impact. You were only 12 and your life just changed in one night.
You had no one else, or at least no one that could take you in since everyone was busy or couldn't be bothered to have another mouth to feed so you ended up in front of Wayne's Manor, two suitcases full of stuff plus all the boxes from your old room and house that you managed to save from the relatives who tried to grab everything valuable in the house.
After getting in your room and setting everything up, making sure your photos with your mom and you were safe and sound, you tried to interact with your new family, wanting to make the best out of a bad situation but you didn't think that they would be so different from what you saw in the media.
•Bruce Wayne: you heard that he was a playboy but very nice to his kids, you saw how he looked at Damian or Dick, a look full of love and adoration that your mom used to give it to you.
But to you, he looked at you like you were just a nuisance that wasn't supposed to be here, he made sure to tell you the first day that you came here to not expect much since he wouldn't have the time to take care of every small needs and to just tell him or Alfred if you wanted to do something out of the school activities since you would be changing schools.
You tried to interact with him, to learn from what he likes so you could just try and hold a conversation with him but he always left you behind for another one of his kids that needed him at the moment, leaving you there with a small smile and just a small light of hope that maybe he will come back to talk to you.
But he never did.
•Richard/Dick Grayson: you thought he was the nicest big brother you ever seen, especially from what you saw him talking or playing with Damian, Tim or even Jason.
(You did find out pretty soon that they were the famous vigilantes since they didn't really keep it hidden from you, especially since you saw them in costumes and even training while they ignored you or didn't even notice your presence.)
You tried to talk to him but he was just like Bruce, leaving you for Damian mostly or using any excuse to not spend time with you.
Even when you tried to ask him to do some acrobatics since you knew he was from the circus, he just gave you an excuse 'sorry but it's been a while since Damian and Tim saw me and I wanted to go out with them, maybe next time (wrong/name)", leaving you before you even had the time to correct him about your name.
•Jason Todd: honestly he was the most decent family member, second to Alfred who treated you better whenever you were left alone, since he just straight up told you that he didn't care and to not bother with him.
You did try a few more times, thinking he was one with a tough exterior but a softie inside, thinking that he just needed time but him accidentally punching you in the face and leaving you with a black eye from you walking up behind him made you understand that he didn't care, especially with the way that he looked at you with an annoyed expression before walking away.
At least you didn't have to spend months trying to gain his favor, he already made it clear that he didn't care about you.
But it still hurts you know?
• Tim Drake: he was the only one you couldn't really put a pin on who he really is, not of some double life or something like that.
It's just that sometimes he would act nice, talking to you but the next time you would see him, even if the time passed between the two intervals could be of 1 hour, he would act like you were an annoying thing or would just ignore you.
You understood that he was sleep deprived and just started leaving him some candies that could help him sleep, wanting to help in a small way, especially since he was the only one you could actually help a little.
And the last, but especially the worst one was none other than Damian Wayne/al Ghul since he first acted like you were gonna steal something from him, especially considered that you were a year or two older than him.
He harassed you, using his animals or just his assassin skills to torment you for years even though you never gave him reasons to do so.
Not more than once you had to patch yourself in the bathroom because of his harassment, the scars still visible but luckily in places you could hide so no one would question you for them.
After two or three years he finally stopped and went to be one of the family members to give you attention to completely ignore your existence, acting like you weren't even someone worthy of his attention.
You always wanted to just hit him back but it would be relatively impossible to even try to land a hit on him because of his assassin training that he had.
But one thing you still had that connected you to your old life, to when you were happy and still with someone who loved you was dancing, which you still went to practice everyday and tried to invite your family but everyone was either busy or straight up told you that they didn't care.
Only Alfred would show up but it was also rare, but it would fill your heart with joy everytime you saw him in the audience of whatever ballet you were casted in, even if you weren't the main protagonist and just a side character.
You also tried to be the best in school, just to show it to Bruce and make him proud like your mother was whenever you were in the top but with a family filled with geniuses like Tim Drake and Damian Wayne, it was difficult to even compare to them.
But every day, you still had hope that maybe, if you opened the doors of your heart they will finally enter and make you part of the family.
That you can finally be accepted again, and maybe even join them in their vigilante jobs but alas, they always had excuses, excuses and even more excuses.
You were getting tired of all their excuses.
After a while you understand that maybe the problem is not you, it never was.
You opened up many times in the past years. You gave them every piece of your broken heart to hold but they would always break it in even more little pieces.
But, not everything always goes to plan does it?
So, instead of continuing to try, you also decided to ignore them back and live your life, counting the days of your eighteen birthday so you could finally get out and be free from the mansion you were supposed to call home.
Part 2 is here!
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cursingtoji · 7 months
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𓆩𖥟𓆪 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑 — Geto is a thoughtful leader who uses visual resources to help his followers learn, and tonight you get to play a part. #Cult-tober.
< Part 1 - Contradiction
— cw: religious imagery but no specific religion, exhibitionism, emotional manipulation, god complex, public nudity, fingering, unprotected, oral (f -> m), sex cult behaviour. 3k words.
— note: did my research on cults for this one, also based on this request.
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“Come here” you hear his voice after calling your name, the tone gives you chills.
You know better than to fear him, this is not the first time he calls you to the main room of the temple — a place that has become the closest thing you can call a home now. This room in particular is already very known to you, so why the fear? Can’t you remember the familiar feeling of the tatami under your knees? What about against your cheek? Wasn’t worth the pain of having your face rubbing on it while your master roughly thrusted into your behind? You do recall his pitiful smile when he realized what the mat had done to the soft skin of your face, right? He kissed it so tenderly while holding you like you were made of glass, a glass he didn’t mind breaking a few minutes prior to that, but now, glass.
So what’s wrong now?
Except for the dozens of followers sitting on their knees in that same room right now. How come you never saw that many people before? And more importantly, why are you seeing them now?
A few hours ago, he left you two things along with a note with the time and place you had to be. Those things are: a sheer black lace mask, very delicate fabric meant for your eyes, the type of thing you could picture a woman using in a ball in the 1800s, and a yukata, a simple one. You thought it was weird he didn’t leave an obi — the belt to tie up the yukata, so you took one from your own drawer to complete the traditional piece.
The mask is clearly not part of it, but you know better than to question him. Besides, the note is clear, you must wear nothing but those things. Nothing.
The room you thought you knew now seems strange and gloomy, it’s nighttime so there’s only a few candles lightening it up, there’s an essence burning somewhere the smell is weak but it’s there.
Geto in all his glory sits in his altar, his feet are up in the mat, unlike everyone else sitting on their legs. He has the pose of a deity and clearly that is what everyone thinks too.
Your bare feet touch the tatami, slowly approaching the altar and feeling the dozen pairs of eyes upon you, the offsetting lighting doesn't allow you to see their faces, which is probably for the best, yet Geto’s was lit up as if the sun itself rose for him and him only.
“Look at her, when I met her she was sick, this beautiful lady had a disease. I tried to look away, she was too far gone, but what did I do instead, sweet child?”
“You saved my life” you respond without batting an eye, your mind feels cloudy.
“Kneel” you obey taking place beside him.
Maybe he is a deity after all.
Just that day you were having a conversation with the twins. They had so many questions, especially after seeing you hurt by some curse, so many why’s leaving their little mouths.
“It doesn’t matter!” your voice rose for the first time since taking them in your embrace “If Geto-sama says it’s day and the sky is dark, it’s day. If he says it’s night when you can see the sun, you go to bed because you sleep when it’s night, understood?”
Sometimes you barely recognize the voice that leaves your lips. Scolding is something you never saw yourself doing, not to the girls you loved more than anything.
In your situation one would assume this behavior is driven by fear, what would Geto do if he found out your girls were questioning his actions? They cannot possibly care more about this non-sorcerer in front of them. Never.
But those people would be wrong. Fear does make you do what you do. Love does.
Only love makes you stay put in front of him when he unties your yukata, love has you looking him in the eye even while the disapproval for the presence of the obi is evident.
Geto makes you sit facing him, his stunning image much more welcoming than the unlighted audience, he’s big enough for you to understand can still see the quiet crowd behind you. His calloused hands touch your shoulders under the yukata, the soft touch is enough to warm up your entire body as he slowly revells a skin decorated by some few bruises, some caused by curses, some caused by gods, well… one god.
“She’s still not cured, I don’t know if she’ll ever be” he doesn’t have to project his voice too much in the quiet room, the hot breathing fans over your face, “But I’ll keep trying nevertheless” he says more quietly.
Geto’s hand goes between your legs and you have trouble keeping your sounds to yourself. His hand is big, and the space between your closed legs — while you’re still sitting on them — and your core is narrow, Geto has to be a little rough to get where he wants to.
And he always gets what he wants.
Your face is warm, breathing erratically but still… you’re not panicking even given the disturbing setting. It’s all due to him, if it was anyone else you would be screaming right now, fighting your way out of this.
Geto starts to stroke your folds with his fingers while talking about sins, the best thing you can do is shut your little brain from overthinking everything he says and taking it as personal.
However, what is left to do when he keeps going on and on about undeserving ones while teasing your fluttering hole? You can’t even look him in the eye, just keep staring his throat as he speaks. Your gasp interrupts him when he inserts a finger, both your hands to your mouth, you were distracted enough to forget this was obviously the next step.
Geto snaps his eyes back to you, not glad about the interruption, yet he resumes his speech so he can go on with his plans.
Your hands remain on your closed mouth, not wanting to make the same mistake again. Geto adds another finger and starts scissoring you, which worries you slightly, you thought this was merely a play for the followers, an exhibition of power, but the stretching he’s doing indicates he plans to go all the way. That and the erection under his haori, which you should’ve led you to suspect his intentions from the beginning since he’s never presented himself to his followers without all the layers of his traditional clothing.
Geto removes his fingers, straightening his posture as he finishes his sentence, he pats his lap and you find his eyes, they are predatory, from then on you’re dealing with Geto-sama, not Suguru.
You’re already undoing the ropes that tie his haori just like he did to you a few minutes ago. He’s bare under the fabric, dick is tall and hard, the leaking tip shines under the orange glow of the candlelight as you align it with your entrance.
“If you can’t control your urges, they’ll control you” he claims, hands behind your knees, his voice is steady but the grip he has on you tells it’s hard to control himself too.
“No person or thing should control you… except for me” the last part is whispered for your ears only. You bottom out on him, needing a moment to recover, not just from the stretch on your lower half but from his words and by how willing you are to let him control you.
Especially when he puts his hand on your head, pressuring slightly guiding you to his neck. He keeps his hand there, caressing your hair as you relax on his hold, like he’s comforting someone who's just lost a dear relative, not a simple villager he spared and is now balls deep inside dozens of followers.
With a sharp pinch on your thigh Geto signs you to start moving, you arch your back and raise your hips to slide out of his cock till only the tip is left then sitting back. Since the yukata was not fully removed, it stays on you, sleeves pooling on the middle of your arms, the rest serves as a curtain, keeping the audience from viewing the junction of you and your savior.
You busy your mouth by kissing and sucking his neck, he gives your hair a discreet pull, a warning to not mark him, guess it would be bad for his reputation if his beloved sorcerers find out he’s whipped by a good-for-nothing human.
All they know — as far as Geto is concerned —, is that you’re his little pet, kind of a 3 for the price of 2 after he took in the twins, a package deal he simply had to accept.
Whatever, you don’t care about them anyways. As long as they’re treating your girls as one of their own, it doesn’t matter how they treat you. Geto, Mimiko and Nanako are all you need to be content with your life.
Geto should limit himself from touching you, his fingers shouldn’t be tracing the little marks and scratches on your back.
“You are not perfect, mistakes will happen, that’s why you need someone to guide you” he talks to the audience, his chin resting on your shoulders as the tip of his fingers run over each trauma and imperfections on your back. At this point — with his dick reaching such a sweet spot inside your walls —, you are not sure if he’s still indirectly talking to you, but something makes you think he’s talking to himself, about you.
Is it such a delusional thought? That you are the one guiding him and not the other way around? You thighs clench around him, the awkward feeling in your chest start to bring clarity to your pleasure blurred mind and you start to look around reflecting on your situation.
Geto relizes something switched in your dumb little head, you do that sometimes, look around with wide eyes and heavy breathing. Suguru remembers the days in jujutsu tech, when he was confused, consumed by the trauma and unsure about his future. Why did you make him remember that? Your chest is rising rapidly, he doesn’t want you to panic, that’s not supposed to happen under his watch.
You’re taken from his lap.
“You love me, don’t you?” Suguru holds your chin bringing your focus to him, only him. You nod slowly, admiring his sculpted face by the candlelight, “Then what are you afraid of?”
You search your mind for all the reasons to be afraid right now, shouldn’t be hard, all you need is to look around and remember why you’re here.
Yet his hazel eyes don’t allow you to find any of those reasons, somehow your heart doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.
“Don’t you trust me?” he rubs your chin and you nod again, “Show me” you blink confusingly, “Show me how much you love me.”
You’re sitting on your knees as your eyes trail down where his member is still hard, it glistens with your juices and throbs slightly, the sight is too irresistible.
So you bow to your savior, taking him fully into your mouth, the position giving the closest thing to a privacy moment, where you could pretend it’s just you and Suguru like in the late nights in his chamber.
“There you go” he sighs happily patting your head, not putting any pressure, like what you’re doing is not sexual at all.
It’s merely a form of adoration. And Geto deserves being adored.
Naturally, you take him as deep as you possibly can, focusing your best in worshiping every inch of his skin, putting as much love into it as you can, not even minding the emptiness on your lower half or how you’re dripping on the mat.
There’s a buzz in your ear, you know Geto is talking, finishing his speech probably, but you can’t actually hear him, feels like hearing someone talking from a distance.
The last thing you remember is the hot shot on the back of your throat and the member twitching in your mouth. You think you heard Geto moan, which brings a weird feeling in your stomach since, as far as you know, you’re supposed to be the only one to hear that. His thumb goes to your chin, whipping the saliva and cum, pushing you to release him, you do, but you keep kissing his soft length until the smell of him mixed with the candles and something only this room had made you black out.
Phenomenal.
A word that resumes what Geto thinks about your performance tonight. If he gave you a script it wouldn’t have played out so perfectly.
Sometimes Geto underestimates how willing you are to be controlled by him.
When everything is done, he takes you into his arms, after wrapping the Yukata back around your body, he raises to his feet and steps down from his small stage carrying you.
There’s a door behind the stage, passing the curtains, which he usually uses as entrance and exit. Yet that night he feels like walking through the audience, with a pretty little thing unconscious on his mighty arms and a bunch of loyal followers bowing on his feet he experiences being, truly, a god.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
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Wayne first saw Steve Harrington when he was on a class field trip to the plant. He couldn’t have been older than 9. Eddie hadn’t come to live with him yet.
He only saw him for a minute, but it only took a minute to see that the boy had dark circles under his eyes that rivaled his own.
It took him a while to forget about the exhausted child in front of him and how much he reminded him of his nephew.
*****
He attended one of the Hawkins High basketball games during Eddie’s first senior year, took the night off for it, even. Eddie was never one for sports, so the fact he agreed to play with his band during their halftime was something Wayne couldn’t pass up watching. It had to have meant something to his boy for him to even mention it, so he played the part of proud parent and sat through the first half of the game.
But when he saw Steve Harrington out there, he couldn’t help but check for those dark circles or the same exhausted slump he saw in a child much too young to show physical signs of exhaustion.
He appeared to be fine, though Wayne couldn’t help but notice how he kept searching the stands for something or someone during every pause in the game.
Wayne had a gut feeling he knew who he was searching for, and an even stronger one that he wouldn’t find them.
After the game and the show, Wayne helped Eddie pack his guitar and amp into the back of the van.
“Hey, you ever talk to that Harrington boy?”
Eddie’s face was answer enough.
*****
To know Eddie was alive wasn’t enough for Wayne, he needed to watch him breathing, watch his fingers twitch while he slept. He needed to know that Eddie was real, was safe, was right in front of him.
But apparently Steve Harrington needed the same reassurances.
Steve had been by Eddie’s side since they let visitors into the room. As far as Wayne knew, he’d only left once for an hour to visit that Max girl’s room.
He was hesitant to say anything beyond kind greetings and goodbyes when he had to head to work. Steve looked one second away from breaking down.
He held Eddie’s hand like it was a lifeline, and maybe it was for him. Whatever they’d been through was serious, proof of that being the injuries they both were dealing with and the fact that Eddie hadn’t opened his eyes yet.
As much as Wayne wanted explanations, he wanted Steve to find comfort in being with Eddie more.
The dark circles under his eyes remained.
Wayne watched the way Steve would stare at Eddie, wordlessly begging him to open his eyes, and wondered what had changed between them. Was it just the trauma of the situation or something else?
He’d known Eddie liked boys for years; hard to hide when you get caught sneaking out of the house to go to a “special” bar in Indianapolis on a school night. He hugged him, told him he loved him no matter what, and offered to drive him out there himself the next weekend he had off if he promised to not go alone on a school night.
But Steve didn’t seem the type. Wayne had learned how to spot them, mostly so he could protect Eddie, and Steve had never seemed like he’d strayed or even thought about straying from girls.
He shouldn’t assume, though.
He knew how Richard Harrington was.
So he sat silently, guarding the two boys who needed it most.
On the sixth day, Wayne asked a nurse if Steve had left the hospital at all.
“No. Poor boy’s been glued to his side. The doctor had to stitch him up in the room because he wouldn’t leave.”
“Stitch him up?”
“Oh, yes! He had a large wound on his side and his chest had a few areas that needed stitches. He wouldn’t let anyone bandage his neck, but they prescribed him penicillin to try to prevent infection.”
Wayne shook his head. So Steve was a self-sacrificing idiot. Time to address that.
“Thanks, Janet. I owe ya a coffee for takin’ such good care of Eddie.”
Janet blushed. “Stop it! I’m just doing my job.”
Wayne smiled at her before making his way into Eddie’s room.
As usual, Steve was in a chair by his bed, hand in hand with Eddie.
The unusual part was that Steve was fast asleep, head nestled against Eddie’s leg.
It couldn’t be comfortable, but going off of how Steve had looked the day before, he was probably too tired to care about comfort.
Wayne looked at the scene in front of him.
Something else was different, too.
Eddie’d moved.
Only someone who’s been in this room for hours on end every day would have noticed it. Eddie’s head was turned towards Steve, and his other hand had found it’s way to Steve’s hair.
Oh.
So it was like that.
Wayne let out a shaky breath, too many emotions trying to escape at once. His boy had woken up, and had found comfort in someone who hadn’t left his side for almost a week. He couldn’t ask for more.
He slowly made his way out of the room, catching Janet just as she was passing to check on another patient.
“Did Eddie wake up?”
Janet’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, Steve hasn’t come to get us. Why? Is everything alright?”
Wayne nodded. “Everything’s fine.”
She smiled at him and continued on her way.
Wayne smiled to himself as he made his way down to the cafeteria to get Steve some food.
It looked like Steve Harrington was finally getting some rest.
Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 2
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lillaluna · 2 months
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you like to hold hands, doesn't he?
Pairing: Neuvillette, Itto, Diluc, Childe, Dottore, Zhongli, Wriothesley x f!Reader
DOTTORE
Oh, you just had to see his face when you took his hand in public for the first time, without asking or permission! At that moment, the man immediately pulled his palm out of your light grip, which you were not offended at all, because you knew who you were in a relationship with and it would not be easy with him.
Then you decided to act differently, starting with light touches to Dottore's gloved fingers when you were walking among people. After that, you casually covered his hand with yours when you were sitting in a cafe. And your main triumph was the moment when Dottore himself intertwined your fingers, feeling a pang of jealousy.
It's not like Dottore loved this gesture with all his dark heart right now, but he's willing to do it for you occasionally.
DILUC
Does Diluc need to be persuaded to take your hand? Of course not! It's safe to say that he was the first one to make this gesture in your relationship, and he loves it.
He holds your hand everywhere — at home, just to feel your warmth, on the street, to know that you are close and safe, when you go to bed, you must have tactile contact.
Your interlaced fingers cause Diluс to have a rush of tenderness and a smile on his sometimes sullen face.
WRIOTHESLEY
For the first time, Wriothesley realized that he wanted to touch you as often as possible when you bandaged his knocked-down knuckles for the umpteenth time, after a fight in the ring. You have always acted very gently, soft and delicately, despite the duke's assurances that his hands have long been roughened and you do not need to stand on ceremony with him. To which you always snorted funny and continued to treat his wounds.
For a long time, Wriothesley did not dare to take your hand, precisely because he believed that his hands were too rude, rough and calloused, and he could harm your soft female fingers. Therefore, you had to become the initiator of the fact that your fingers would finally intertwine, that evening when you were sitting next to each other at the table, at one of the receptions in the palace of Mermonia.
ITTO
For all his feigned self-confidence, It was very shy to touch you, and the thought of taking your hand in public drove him to hysteria inside his head. Therefore, Itto came up with, as it seemed to him, an insidious and cunning plan, suggesting that you compare the sizes of your palms.
If the first time it seemed like a nice gesture to you, even the second time you laughed shyly, then after the thirteenth comparison, you began to suspect something was wrong.
On another offer to compare your palms, you refused Itto, and rejoiced for the first few minutes from his confused face, but after a few minutes you felt sorry for the confused guy. That's why you gently said that he doesn't need clever plans for him to take your hand, and you'll be glad of it at any moment.
ZHONGLI
After so many years of loneliness, this man will not miss any opportunity to touch you. He will proudly hold your hand, interlacing your fingers at the moment when you want it. At home, in a restaurant, walking down the street, visiting.
Zhongli has a habit, as soon as your fingers are intertwined, he immediately brings your clasped palms to his lips and kisses your fingers. It surprised you the first time, but now it has become something integral, and Zhongli has never forgotten to make this cute gesture.
CHILDE
What? Just hold hands? Pf, it's too easy for Ajax. Maybe hugs are everywhere possible and the bounds of decency allow it?
Childe does not need to ask for a small gesture there, he himself will take your hand and do it defiantly, literally poking your interlaced fingers in everyone's face, which in his opinion declares that you are only his.
NEUVILLETTE
Judge Fontaine learns everything new and modern, but he considers the gesture when two people hold hands intimate and prefers to do it with you alone. At first, you were offended, although you tried to hide it behind a knowing smile, but when you saw how tremulously and tenderly Neuvillette kissed your fingers when they were intertwined with his, you decided that such intimacy was not a bad thing.
In turn, Neuvillette tries as often as possible to give you fleeting touches in public, and if possible, he is happy to offer that you take his arm.
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noroi1000 · 6 months
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Baby Steps
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Summary: It was a surprise that you were going to have a baby. For them, the bigger surprise was what pregnancy actually looks like. But everything changed when they became daddies.
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Well, your first surprise was when you saw their faces when they found out you were pregnant. Whose child is this?  Is Satoru or Suguru the father? What will it all look like?  They were surprised, and then they rejoiced. After that, it didn't matter who the father was. And so you live together, the three of you. It doesn't matter whether the child has black or white hair. Or maybe (h/c). It didn't matter since you were sure that you would be the mother of their child and they would be the father.  You will have a complete family. And none of them will be jealous of whose child. At least they shouldn't be jealous of each other. Finally, you are together.  If this is your and Suguru's child, Satoru will love it as much as he loves you and him. And vice versa, if it's Satoru's child. You believe that they will be perfect fathers. 
You believe it because you see their smiles. 
Smiles that turned to terror every time you felt constantly sick and weak. You had mood swings. You were either constantly smiling or crying for no reason. And they were there to comfort you for no reason. You cried over everything. Out of happiness or sadness. You cried even when you were watching children's cartoons, and the hero ran away with a kite. 
Then they learned that all this would not be as easy as they thought from the beginning. 
They thought that you would be happy when you were pregnant and that everything would change when you gave birth. Unfortunately not. It all started when you got pregnant. 
How can men know the feeling of being pregnant? At work, they read articles about pregnant women to know what exactly they should do.  Maybe there are three of you living together. Each of them has a boyfriend and a girlfriend. They, as men, knew their bodies and yours too. But they have never experienced pregnancy firsthand. If only one of them could get pregnant...  They have a lot to learn for you so that you can feel good for the next nine months.
For three months, they studied and cared for you. They were there for you when you wanted a hug. They fulfilled ALL your carnal desires.  And they got the feeling that they liked the fact that your belly was growing, and they found it arousing. And since you were often eager to receive touches, you didn't mind. Especially when you were in the second trimester, they noticed that you were often in a good mood and had a lot of energy. You wanted to go to town and to the shops. You wanted to do everything, even if you couldn't. They had to forbid you and then look at the flames in your eyes. 
Being a pregnant woman was not an easy thing. Even if there were two of them, it would be more difficult for them because they never even thought about having a child. They were more thinking about living a happy life and returning home safely. Now that you're pregnant, returning home has taken on a completely different meaning. 
They wanted to come home to take care of you. To stroke the bulging belly.
At first, they were shocked by how your pregnancy started. It was sweat and tears. For various reasons. Later, when they were prepared to continue it, everything changed one hundred and eighty degrees. You were energetic and often even smiled.
You stroked your belly, but you also wanted their attention. Honestly, when you felt tiny movements inside of you. 
They knew that the pregnancy couldn't be any easier now. After all, Suguru had read several books about pregnancy and already knew what he could expect. You will feel discomfort and pain in the third trimester. From what he read, they couldn't go far with you where there wasn't a toilet.  What was that? Can your child press on the bladder? Something like this. Namely, you will have to run to the toilet. 
And in your case, the baby was very energetic, and you often felt movements or small kicks.
You had suspicions about who the father might be...
But that wasn't certain.  Besides, you don't want to think too deeply about which one is the baby. If something distinctive about one of them comes up, you'll know.  They are with you both. They will both raise your child. So why should you worry about which one is the biological father? 
It turns out they were too worried about you. They have become overprotective of you. That's why one of them always stayed at home with you instead of going to work. 
First they were terrified; then they were surprised and often tired. How on earth can a pregnant woman have so much energy? And now they have become overprotective. 
When your back hurt, they did everything they could to help you relax. And they even stood behind you and held your stomach to watch as a smile and relief appeared on your face.  Maybe they can lift heavy weights without any problems. But carrying a few pounds inside every day? You have to stay upright all the time, which causes back pain... 
It was because of such thoughts that they began to be happy that they were men... But they also watched with admiration at how you endured it all for them. Painful back, legs, and arms. Swollen feet. Bad mood. Extra weight. Sensitive body and sore breasts. It was definitely more difficult to live these nine months with a second life inside.
Was it worth it?
Of course. 
The sight of Satoru lying on the floor on his side, trying to play with your baby with baby toys. And Suguru is sitting in a chair, reading a book. It was a sweet sight. 
They are both dads, and they fit this role perfectly. 
Your child's green clothes always stood out when one of you was doing laundry. And you smiled, seeing that little kitten drawn on the front. It was like a happy outfit.  Important moments often happened in this outfit. Such as sounds that start to sound as if your child is about to say something. Even though these aren't words.
It was Suguru's baby. Jet black straight hair. But still, Satoru was also a daddy—after all, a child who looks like his boyfriend is so cute. 
"Be careful, little one." Satoru laughed as he reached for the baby, who was crawling towards him. He was happy that he could also be a daddy.  Thanks to this, he sees how the baby who has been inside you for 9 months rests its hands on his belly and lightly paws. 
And then it puts its little legs up as if it wanted to get up. 
"Suguru! Suguru! Bring the camera quickly!" he shouted to the dark-haired man, who almost jumped from his shout. 
"What?"
"Bring your camera! Mochi seems to want to stand on feet!"
You came to the room as soon as you heard the screams. 
You saw Suguru running with a camera. 
A new hobby that Satoru got - taking photos and recording everything with your child. 
"What's going on?" You asked quickly and watched Geto lie down on the carpet next to him and turn on the camera.
"Mochi wants to stand on!" 
"Isn't it too early...?" You muttered, looking at your child, who was holding on to Satoru and trying to stand up. 
Your motherly instinct kicked in, and you didn't want your precious baby to grow up so fast...
"Let's give it a try." Suguru gave you a smile. 
You nodded slightly and sat down next to him, grabbing your child's hand as Satoru held the other.  You pulled the baby up slightly until little feet were on the carpet.
And these were your baby's first tiny steps.
Very little baby steps.
So that you can all enjoy and hug your baby together later.
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ma1dita · 3 months
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trouble always finds me
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 1.7k 
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. Luke’s perspective on trouble & how they first met! think trouble’s origin story (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
warnings: none, fluff? Mr. D being a clueless dad lol also guys they’re 14 here
a/n: welcome back to the trouble!verse hehe i was inspired by Mr. D being a bit of a jerk to Percy so that the kid doesn’t off himself. Similar concept but with Luke after he first gets to camp— another version for why trouble!reader calls him angelface coming soon
(posted 1/19/24, erm unedited and not beta’d so forgive me in advance)
You were always trouble, Luke knew that from the day he met you. 
Walking into Camp Half-Blood, worn out and weary after days of trying to not become harpy food, his arm was slung protectively over Annabeth’s shoulder as they were led onto the campgrounds. So many pity-filled eyes were focused on them after hearing what happened to Thalia, but the camp seemed promising, filled with other demigods who can resonate with what they’ve experienced. Luke thought it was too good to be true, but anything’s better in comparison to the streets they came from. You, however, looked at them in interest from afar, a playful expression on a pretty face watching their every move like him and Annie were shiny new toys to play with.
He was so sure something was off with you. 
Had to be, from the deranged glimmer in your eye that would appear when something bad would happen at Camp. He’d seen it in action a couple of times before you set your sights on him— setting off fireworks during capture the flag, replacing salt with sugar in the kitchens, cutting Mr. D’s hair in his sleep; all of this causing campers and staff alike to run amok and figure out who to penalize. Each time he’d find you enjoying how it all played out, excitement brimming on the cusp of revealing yourself as the culprit as he watched you bite your tongue. But as a mischievous kid himself, he wondered why you hid it. You preferred to orchestrate the show, to make a spectacle for your personal entertainment, and with a smile too soft to be considered guilty, you were a convincing actress. 
The other campers in 11 told him you’d been unclaimed for half a year now, keeping to yourself and making a safe haven within the busy cabin. You were a klutz to say the least, bringing chaos to Camp Half-Blood with a cool disposition, and you hardly seemed interested the one time Luke tried to say hi as he took the bunk next to yours. 
So why the hell wouldn’t you lay off of him?
At first it was small, shoulder bumps and raised eyebrows whenever he piped up in a conversation. That, he could deal with. Luke’s a tough guy, having gone through more than a typical 14-year old would. 
But then it just got annoying.
Glitter in his shampoo, his laundry load dyed purple, and shoelaces knotted together to make him stumble— things meant to be more of an inconvenience rather than an actual problem. Luke wasn’t sure what to make of it, or what to tell you. No one wants to be the new kid creating trouble, but you didn’t seem to have a problem with that.
Maybe you were a Hermes kid like him, but of that, Luke wasn’t so easily convinced—months of living in 11 would mean you’d learn all of the tricks of the trade, so it couldn’t automatically mean that you were related (a part of him also hoped you weren’t be half-siblings, or else the fact he couldn’t stop thinking of you would be slightly awkward). Perhaps a child of Apollo? When you weren’t being difficult, he’s seen you sprinkled in sunlight, usually humming a tune under your breath. Yesterday it was a song from the Sound of Music, and though he only remembers bits of a memory from a movie night with his mom years ago, he put his combat gear on slower just to hear you finish the song. 
Whatever you were, it was bound to be troublesome.
At this point in life, Luke hasn’t had many comforts while on the run. To him there’s no such thing as action without reason, without meaning.  Five years of running and not looking back makes this son of Hermes realize that he hasn’t had a chance to take a breath until he got here. It’s hard to let down your guard when you’re always supposed to be keeping watch.
He wriggles under his covers trying to relax himself before bed, purple socks sticking out of the scrappy hand-me-down blanket, and he hears a small giggle from the bed next to his. Luke shifts his weight onto his side, eyes darting to your direction in the quiet of the dark cabin.
“Nice socks.”
He blinks. Were you talking to him? His toes wiggle playfully, prompting more of your melodious laughter as he chews at his lip before he responds.
“Guess I’m getting used to them.”
“You’re getting used to a lot of things around here. That’s good,” you whisper, and thinks he can see you concocting something sinister in that brain of yours—he’s on the edge of the mattress hanging onto your every word as he realizes this is the most you’ve spoken to him.
“You did this. Why?” he says, more of a statement than a question. Why would you go out of your way for someone like him?
“Are you mad about it? Luke, right?” you mutter, a calm expression on your face shrouded in moonlight, and for a second he wonders if you actually don’t know his name until he notices the upwards quirk of your lip. 
Luke catches himself then, and the realization hits him like a blow to the chest— he’s not angry at all. If anything, he hasn’t had the time to feel anything negative with the antics you’ve been pulling. You’ve proven to be quite the distraction to his circumstances, and he can’t remember the last time he’s thought about Thalia or his mom since he got here. The melancholy falls on his countenance like a better-fitting blanket than the one he has on, and your words pull him from his thoughts before they can suffocate him again.
“Sorry about your sister. I lost someone right before I got here too. My mom.” 
This, he can tell, is not acting. Your eyes flicker to a polaroid strapped in the space underneath the top bunk above your head, two blurry figures huddled together in a memory.
“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what to say. In the silence that follows, he swallows audibly. Everyone’s been worried about Annabeth, including himself that he hadn’t even thought of his own emotions being on display for everyone to see. Luke never thought you of all people would notice.
You shrug, “S’not your fault. I know when people are acting though. If you know I’m the one who’s been starting shit, why haven’t you told anyone?”
Luke almost laughs at that, a rough exhale leaving his lungs as he watches your hands clutch your quilt.
“It’s pretty entertaining, I guess. You’re annoying, but I don’t mind it. Kept my mind off of things.”
He watches you smile in the shadows now, and it shines—all lips, teeth, and sheer mirth that makes his chest feel a little lighter. A real smile from you, one that doesn’t hide your true intentions.
“I’m glad. Mine too.” 
The next thing you do confuses him further, but from what he’s gathered you’re always full of surprises. You chuck your quilt across the space between your bunks, and the end of it smacks him in the face as he grunts.
“Here. Keep it,” you chuckle a bit loudly, the both of you hearing a Shhhhh… from somewhere in the dark cabin.
“What… Why? Are we friends now?” Luke mumbles jokingly, inhaling the soft scent of berries and fresh linen. His purple laundry load smelled like this too.
“No.”
“Then why are you giving me your stuff?” he says, but still curls up underneath the handmade quilt stitched from memories of a past life, of motherly love and gentle hands. He doesn’t have anything like this, so he settles into this feeling of comfort instead, even if it wasn’t his memory to hold. You go quiet at the sight of him, eyes fluttering and chin tucked into the pink and purple fabric, and he looks as soft as a normal 14 year old boy should.
“It’s getting boring in here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think,” you mumble, turning away and shutting your eyes before he can say anything else.
The next day, you get caught putting a month’s supply of bubble bath into the lake, but Luke’s convinced you did it on purpose. All of camp is standing on the shore, watching you wave at them from a river tube as Chiron and Mr. D yell at you in exasperation—finally revealing yourself as the troublemaker they’ve been searching for.
“Get on the beach this instant, young lady! You have no idea how much trouble you’ve put us through!” Mr. D’s voice echoes across the lake, his immortal form almost filtering through his frustration before you laugh in his face, unthreatened by the Olympian.
“Good thing I get it from you. Hello, dad!”
Jaws drop as everyone turns to look at Mr. D, the realization hitting his face as he points at you, his brain moving a mile a minute. Though you resemble your mother, your actions are all him. You revel in the grand reaction, looking up to see a purple thyrsus surrounded by grape leaves float over your head.
“Nice outfit, kid. I don’t think purple is your color. She do that to you too?” Mr. D notes Luke’s wine colored cargos and socks clashing against the harsh orange of his shirt as he pushes past him, scratching his head at the idea of another kid. Poor guy said two was the limit in a lifetime and he gets a grinning teenage girl who dares him to do something about it. He hasn’t raised a lot of girls….
“I don’t know. I guess trouble always seems to find me,” Luke laughs lightly, watching kids of all ages jump into the bubbly lake water happily. The glowing ember of his eyes are relaxed for the first time in a while— an inviting flame catching your own as you stare at him from across the sudsy water. Trouble, he thinks, a smile settling onto his face—how fitting.
He’s spent a lot of time running. But perhaps this time, he’s finding reasons to want to stay.
"After all, we are nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal." - Sylvia Plath
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apricityxoxo · 2 months
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Help and Care
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✧.* Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader
✧.* wc 5,786 (teheeheee)
✧.* summary: he definitely didn't need help, he doesn't need someone to care for him. no one has ever helped him before, and no one ever cared so why would they start now. he doesn't care, he definitely doesn't need help. so why does he keep ending up in the infirmary with the beautiful nurse? and why does he keep coming back to you?
✧.* contents: fluff, a bit of angst, and a sprinkle of suggestive dialogue
here's the whole story! it took me a while but I hope you all enjoy it, sorry I'm a perfectionist. I had a lot of fun writing this but let me know what you all think. i might write a pt 2 to this idk. Also pls excuse the medical and military inaccuracies
enjoy
Help. He hates help. He can’t stand it. When others look at him, when he looks at himself, he doesn’t see himself as someone dependent on others. Why else would he enlist, he didn’t need help, he learned that the hard way. No one ever helped him and he adjusted, so why would he need help now? People are dependent on him; they rely on him. When someone is injured, scared, or dead it’s up to him to fix the situation, to solve the problems of others, to carry the fallen.
When Price told him to go to the nurse he was upset, actually, he was pissed. He was not a child who scraped his knee playing football at school. He was a soldier; he was more than a mere man. He knew how to endure, he knew how to carry his weight, and he knew that he didn’t need to see the nurse. He knew what was wrong with him, he just bruised his ribs. He didn’t need some old woman with a bad attitude to tell him what he already knew.
He endured and he resisted the pain for exactly two weeks, but the pain was only getting worse. He was confused and didn’t know what to do, he hoped that no one had noticed and he didn’t want people to start. He didn’t want questions or concerns, he wanted relief and nothing more.
He thought no one would notice and he was so wrong.
Training.
Simon hated training the new recruits, they were cocky and they didn’t know their place. They thought after joining and passing the initial physical exams, they were done.
They were most definitely not done. They needed to adjust, physically and mentally, to fit in. Many people think the initial physical and mental exams are where new recruits break, no they break here, during training…with him. He hated it but knew why Price asked him to do it.
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Price usually did rounds during training, he watched the recruits and the techniques of the other task forces. The smell of sweat, dirt, and blood filled his system and that smell drew his attention to Ghost. Today he felt the need to check on Ghost and see how he was doing. Ghost was a good teacher even though he didn’t realize this, Price did though.
Ghost was mean, harsh, and disciplined, and the people he taught tended not to last long, however, the ones who did turn out to be great because the one thing that Ghost teaches best is endurance.
When Price was watching him train, he started to get upset and confused. This was most definitely different from the big and bad Ghost he was used to. He thought at first that "maybe Ghost was pulling his punches?" When he paired Ghost up to train some of the rookies, he thought maybe Simon was finally going soft.
Usually after training, the rookies would be sore, and in pain, sometimes they might even need to be excused to nurse. However, these past few weeks the rookies have been surprisingly...fine. Maybe even better than fine and it's been making them cocky, it's boosted some of their egos.
It would probably boost his ego too, Price chuckled. If he were to beat the big, brutal, scary Ghost while still a rookie. However, they are starting to get obnoxious because they are taunting and boasting, which is certainly something that Price could not have. It was starting to piss him off. Price was going to tell Ghost that if he didn’t put these pricks in line, there were going to be consequences.
That was the plan, but then he took a closer look and that’s when he saw it.
He saw the way that Ghost taking more hits than normal, he was slow to react and he was even slower to respond. His stance was off as well, usually his form made him feel like a giant among men but now he looked like he was shrinking himself, like it was his first day of training. Ghost wasn’t pulling his punches, he wasn't holding back, he was weak.
Now he was pissed.
Price knew.
Price knew exactly why Ghost wasn’t as strong as he usually is, why his punches aren’t as powerful as they normally are. Ghost was a disobedient bastard and Price was pissed.
“STOP! That’s enough training for today, soldiers.”
“Ghost, come now!”
“Yes, Captain” Ghost replied in his thick Manchester accent.
“The hell is wrong with you Lieutenant!”
“Nothin' Capt’n, I'm just-”
“You’re just hurt, did you go to the nurse?” Price knew the answer.
“I didn’t feel the need to go to the medical facility Capt’n”
“You didn’t feel the need to go?” Price asked Simon and looked at him like he was crazy. Since when did his soldiers feel the need for an opinion?
“If you don’t get your ass to the medical facility right now, you’re going to be training these pricks for three months straight. You understand?”
“Yessir!”
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Unbelievable!
He doesn’t need to be here. As he walks to the nurse’s offices, he feels everyone's eyes on him. He’s rarely ever here and because of that it draws the eye, lots of them. He thanked his balaclava every day because without it, based on the face he was making, some might think he was actually nervous.
He doesn’t want some old hag telling him what to do and degrading him for not coming sooner. Some old nurse or doctor telling him everything he already knows just to insult him and show off their vast vocabulary just to try and make him feel small. that’s what they all do, that’s what his father did.
He approaches the front desk and the older woman tells him to go to office number 222. He makes his way over, navigating the hallways,  and he finds the office. The sign is decorated with small pink flowers and a white cat with a red bow. He resists the urge to roll his eyes.
Before he goes and knocks on the door, he dries his palms on his pants, desperately hoping to get over this.
Knock-knock.
Some time passed but then he heard a soft voice say…
“Come on in”
He opened the door and he was surprised that the soft voice matched a beautifully soft face. A face with beautifully unique features that worked together in harmony to make the beautiful woman that sat before him.
God damn.
Those were the only words on his mind.
It wasn’t an old woman who looked like she had a chip on her shoulder and carried a deep grudge, nor someone who looked like they were going to insult him… no. definitely not.
It was a young woman.
A beautiful young woman.
A beautiful young woman with the most inviting features. Absolutely gorgeous, he’s never seen a woman this beautiful ever on this base. He feels like she doesn’t belong here, her face is an exact contrast to the environment he surrounds himself every day. He has a million questions he wants to ask her, and he feels the strong urge to get closer to her. He’s such a creep. He doesn’t even know her name.
He feels his mouth goes dry and his hands sweat. Gross. He hasn’t felt this way since Secondary School, he feels like a dork and he doesn’t know what is wrong with him.
“Good afternoon, how can I help you!” Her voice was cheery and if he was a little bit more nervous, he wouldn’t notice the shock on her face and the tremble in her voice. He was used to that reaction; it was probably due to his appearance. her voice matched her face and he felt his heart beat faster, he finally was going to die.
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He was just staring at you, he was just looking. You’ve heard rumors of him, of his personality. The big bad Ghost, the professional killer who lacks mercy for anyone. He was just staring at you and it was freaking you out. What’s wrong with him, why is he here in the nurse's office? Did he hurt someone? Or worse…
He’s still staring.
“… excuse me, is everything alright?”
“Erm…yeah, sorry” he responded and if your mind weren’t running a mile a minute you would have heard the way he sounded nervous.
He clears his throat and then replies “Captain Price has recommended I take a visit down here.” God his voice was so deep. He was so smooth, he had a thick accent that wasn’t like any of the others you heard on base. His voice was not at all soft but the way he spoke made something bubble inside you. 
Wait. ‘take a visit down here’
Oh. He needed help. 
“Oh… okay sir, what seems to be the problem?” You try your best to put on your customer service voice and hide the fact that you're wondering what this man might need help with. 
“Erm… last deployment I bruised my ribs real bad, don't know how…”
You try to listen, you have to pretend to do so. You're writing as he describes his symptoms. He has stomach pain, difficulty breathing, tenderness in his abdomen, and bruising. He describes his symptoms and you feel so bad for him and at the same time, you feel disgusted in yourself. 
Disgusted because instead of being focused on how he describes his pain, you focused on his attractive ass voice. You can't help it, you're just a girl. 
No, You need to remain a professional.
“Okay Lieutenant Riley, if it's all right with you, I’d like to examine your abdomen.”
“Yeah… that's fine” he sounds hesitant you feel bad… you feel like you need to reassure him.
“Don't worry lieutenant, I'm sure everything is going to be just fine.” you try to reassure him and when you do, you unconsciously give him a soft smile.
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Well, you have to ask him to take off his shirt. That was something that didn't occur to you. He doesn't have to comply, you could do the whole checkup with his shirt on. You hope he doesn't so you save yourself from embarrassment. 
“Sir, if you do not mind, may I ask you to remove your um… t-shirt?” you ask, trying your hardest to remain professional. It's completely reasonable for a medical professional to ask a patient to remove their shirt when they had an abdomen injury.
“You don't necessarily have to I'm sure I can find a way to…”
“I don't mind” Lieutenant Riley cuts you off as he agrees.
He sits on the examination table and removes his shirt.
You think you just died. You are short of breath and you think you died because there's an angel right in front of you. If you were anywhere else you would admire his powerfully built body, but you were more concerned with the bruising on his stomach.
You feel and you touch his body, extremely concerned about his well-being. His stomach was black and blue, his stomach was sore, and he could barely bend over. 
You were worried but also shocked because this man worked and trained in such a condition for about a week. You knew of Simon Riley and you knew of his reputation and this just supported the fact that he's an absolute abled-bodied unit… it was almost scary.
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“I believe you have a few broken ribs…sir.” You say almost scared of his reaction. He needed x-rays, actually he needed time off. 
“I'll recommend you an off-base X-ray Tech to take pictures of your abdomen, I also recommended to your captain that you take time off to heal. After we get your x-rays, I recommend you visit me every two weeks so we can look over your progress ” You tell him, distracted as you look over all your notes.
“Oh ok, every two weeks, and how long will it take to heal…” Luitenent Riley asked, he sounded nervous and you started to feel bad for talking to him so nonchalantly about his condition.
“Um should take about two months to heal. Ribs tend to heal rather quickly, however, since they weren't treated earlier it might take a while longer. Don't worry I’m sure you'll feel better rather quickly.” You try to give him a little bit of comfort. You give Luitenent Riley instructions, stating how to take care of himself and treat his injuries. 
He collects his stuff and is getting ready to leave before he turns around looks you up and meets your eye. 
“Thank you so much luv, ‘preciate it.” He tells you, in a soft accented voice.
“It's not a problem Luitenent.” You tell him and you feel your heart pick up its pace.
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Week 2 
He was supposed to visit today, you were expecting him today. You had all of his notes laid out and you were just waiting. 
Waiting.
Waiting. 
Other patients came and went but you were still looking forward to one specific client. The first time he visited you had no time to admire his large and confident stance when he walked into the room. He walked into the room with utter confidence as if he knew it would have an effect on you.
AND GAHHH LEEE
When he removed his shirt, you don't know how you controlled yourself. You knew he was a big man with a hefty build but you were not expecting what you saw. Your eyes were blessed with a solid, broad-shouldered, athletic man.
The literal definition of manly, if he wasn't in the military you were sure he would be off somewhere chopping wood or something. If you weren't at work you're sure you would be lying in bed kicking your feet.
When he spoke to you he had such a deep and low baritone voice that was heavily accented. You never had a thing for accents but he was something else completely. Low and intimidating, his language was professional but you could tell that he was trying not to curse and use slang. It's embarrassing to think about the things you'd do to hear him, swear or even say your name. In your head you know you’d sound like a rabid dog if he’d said it in that attractive ass voice-
Then you hear your name and think you might die. Actually, it was your last name and your medical title. But still—
It’s him.
He’s here. 
Remain professional! you scream and shout at yourself.
You greet him and try to make small talk, asking him how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, and what he’s been doing with his time off. It's hard, he's such a beefy and attractive man. You can't even see his face but based on just the way he walks, you know he's fine. 
Admittedly, working on this base that’s far away from your home made you forget how to act around an attractive man…
“Been reading too, I'm trying to distract myself. If ya have any recommendations just let me know.” he interrupts your thoughts and you relate to him. It gets boring between deployment he tells.
“What do you usually do between deployments?” you ask, sincerely.
“Train, train myself then train with others.” He replies.
You don’t ask anything else, you know that he must miss training every day. The way he says it makes you feel bad. You know many of the soldiers find solitude when they work on themselves and train. It calms them and helps them recover, it's almost a form of therapy. Simon can't do that, not with his injury. You feel a pang in your chest. 
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You go over his notes and x-rays. You give him a checkup and note that he’s healing rather quickly, based on the other scars you know that this isn’t his worst injury. 
You catch his eyes when you are going over everything with him and explaining your notes to him. He’s looking at you with his golden green eyes, staring you up and down. You feel sort of embarrassed because you don't feel cute at this moment. You didn’t put makeup on in the morning, just gloss on your plumped lip and curled your eyelashes. Your wash day is coming up too so you wrapped your hair in a colorful scar today.
The way he looked at you was the way men would look when you would walk into a club. When you had a full face and your hair was freshly done. When you had a tight and short dress that would accentuate your beautiful curves. When you knew that you looked stunning that's the way he was looking at you, right now.
His visit was finished and you put the date for the next visit in your calendar. Before he leaves he thanks you.
“I don't like doctors but I appreciate all you've done for me, miss.”
“Thank you Luitenenent, if you ever need a book recommendation you can always come see me.”
“Thank you.” He tells you and even though you can't see his face, you feel a smile radiate off him.
You feel like he’s such a kind man.
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Week 4
Today, on his next visit, he’s not as kind.
You know why. You can tell that he's antsy, that he wants to get back to work. He’s rushing the process and wants to do everything you told him not to do. He wants to disregard all the instructions you gave him. You’re used to that, soldiers want to get back to their daily routine and they’re itching to do something strenuous during the healing process.
You would be fine with that if it were not for his shortness with you. He was annoyed and that was completely acceptable but there was no need to be curt and downright rude to you.
His answers were short. After each question, while trying to make small talk he replied with a ‘Mmhmm’. He didn't make eye contact with you and when you would suggest activities for him to try and distract him, he would roll his eyes and brush it off. 
He didn't want to chat and you feel like this is not the same man, who came to visit last time.
Today’s visit was short, there was clearly no need for small talk on his end and no time for the flirting you wanted to do. 
You did yourself up today too and now that you think back at it, it feels like a waste of time. You enjoyed the visit you had with him last time you were looking forward to today's visit. However, that feeling quickly dissipated, when Luitenenent Riley came in with a bad attitude and short tone. You had no time for this today, you think you even returned that same energy. So the visit was short and he left with a slammed door following behind him.
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Lunchtime came around and you were most definitely looking forward to it. After a long day, that wasn't even over, all you wanted to do was eat. You grab your book and sit in your designated corner to eat in the loud cafeteria.
You feel relaxed when you start eating and open up your book. The loud cafeteria with the chatter of men and women surrounds you. It's kind of calming when you think about it. The laughs, small talk, and clattering cutlery fade in the background around you. This is just what you need after such a long and tiresome day. 
You try to focus on your book but then you are interrupted by someone clearing their throat.
“Is this seat taken?” You glance up from your book, you find him standing there, his presence commanding attention even in the busy room. Lieutenant Riley is looking down at you with a food tray in his hands. He refers to the seat across from you and you shake your head no. You try to avoid eye contact when he sits down, still feeling annoyed from earlier. 
He lifts his balaclava over his mouth and you both eat in silence. There’s a growing tension around you both. 
You eat your food and busy yourself with your book, however you can feel him looking at you. He ate in silence, his eyes occasionally meeting yours before darting away.
It was irritating.
Earlier he was being rude and barely talking to you and now he was acting timid, the audacity. You started to pick up the pace and eat your lunch faster.
Then he interrupted his silence with his deep sultry voice.
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was disrespectful to you when you were only trying to help. I'm sorry. I've honestly been sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing that I took out my anger on you and for that, I apologize.” It sounded like he practiced this. It makes you smile thinking about the Ghost practicing an apology in the mirror. You can just imagine him practicing and it warms your heart that he put this much energy into an apology.
“Thank you for your apology.” You reply in a soft voice.
There was silence for a while but it was interrupted by your voice.
“Um…I know it's hard, not being able to do the things you used to be able to do. I'm sure soon you will be able to get back to your routine and do everything that you want to do… and more. If You need to talk to someone, you can always come and see me. ” You tell him, a bit timidly. All you want to bring comfort to him and reassure him.
“Thank you,” he replies.
“No problem Luitenent” you respond.
“Call me, Simon.”
That was the end of the conversation. There was a soft smile on your face, and you both sat in a comfortable silence, taking quick glances at each other.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
Week 6
This next visit was much more casual than the previous two. Throughout the whole week before this upcoming visit, he’s been stopping by your office. 
In the beginning, he would just stop and say hello and indulge you with some small talk. Nothing more than checking in on you and asking how your day was. However lately, he’s been getting comfortable here. He’s claimed the large decorative leather chair in the corner of your office, closest to your desk. 
He would just sit there and talk to you about anything and everything. Conversations went from favorite foods to his most recent reads to how long you’ve been an RN. 
The other nurses in the building have gotten used to his presence in your office. When they come to visit or drop something off, his presence doesn’t throw them off anymore.  They’re used to the large man sitting comfortably in your office. 
Today was no different, he stopped by in the morning and you both got to chatting. An hour went by when it felt like mere minutes. Time flew by so fast that you almost forgot about his checkup.
“Oh!” You exclaim. “I'm such an idiot, I almost forgot why you were here Simon.” you shoot up from your desk and walk over to the examination table, slapping it twice with a big grin on your face
“Alright Simon, let’s get this over with!” You sell him with a large smile on your face. 
Simon slaps his knees and pushes himself off of the deep and comfortable chair. He makes his way across your office looking at all of the flowers around your office and the Sanrio Characters you have scattered around. 
When he gets to the examination table, just as you're about to move out of the way, he grabs your waist and moves you to the side. He lets his hands linger and he makes eye contact with you as he sits on the chair. 
You're certain he’s smiling under that stupid balaclava.
Cocky bastard. 
You clear your throat and attempt to focus on your work. The checkup only lasts a few minutes, he’s getting so much better. You would be so excited to tell him that he can start getting back to his normal routine, but you're distracted.
Distracted because he’s so touchy. First, he touches your waist, he must know that it has some sort of effect on you because then he touches your clothes. 
During the checkup when you need to do something basic and mindless, he grabs the corner of your coat and rubs yours between his fingers. When you speak to him he’s doing the same with your black scrubs.
“You can start getting back to your regular routine, like training and stuff. Don’t rush it or anything, just …baby steps'' you say, you move yourself to stand in between his legs.
“That right?” He asks but he’s not focused on what you say. He’s focused on your plump lips and you think it’s turning you on. His eyes slowly make their way back to your eyes. 
“Mmmhhh! But nothing too rough.” You reply looking back at him. You feel his hands make their way up your waist. 
“Not even a little rough?” He asks. You both start to lean closer and he takes one hand off of your waist and takes it toward his mask. 
Oh god! What is he doing? Is he going to show his face? Kiss you! Or maybe—
Knock Knock
The loud knock draws your attention away from Simon and you pull yourself away from between his legs.
You clear your throat and attempt to fix yourself even though you two have done nothing. 
“Come in!” You shout, voice cracking a bit. 
One of the more intimidating on-field military nurses enters your office. Unlike you, this nurse is trained for the field and it shows. She is tall with broad muscular shoulders, and she confidently walks into the room with a skeptical look on her face. 
She takes a look at both you and Simon before addressing you. Telling you that your presence is wanted somewhere else. 
“Oh okay… I’ll be there in five ma’am.” You reply and she makes her way out of your office with a raised eyebrow at Simon. 
“Okay, Simon! your next check is in two weeks and that’s your last one, congratulations.” You address Simon trying to make it seem like you don’t remember the moment you two had before you were interrupted. Simon stands and makes his way over to you, stops right in front of you, and towers over you. If he was anyone else you’d give them hell for popping your personal space bubble.
“Alright…Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at you. 
“Are you injured?” You ask sarcastically. 
“Got a paper cut. That’s what I get for reading” He shows you his thumb and starts to chuckle. You laugh right along with him. You look up at him and nod, you smile while biting your lip. 
“See you tomorrow Si”
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Week 8
Two months.
He’s known you for two months and he still doesn’t know how to act around you. This past month he’s seen you almost every day constantly visiting you. He feels like every day he’s getting to know you better and better. You’re a genius, graduating high school and college early which explains why you're so young. You love this little Japanese cat thing that’s called Hello Kitty. Your favorite flowers are tulips, and that’s something that stuck out to him. 
Tulips stuck out so much that he used his last day of time off to go out off base and buy you some. Today is his last official visit with you but he most definitely doesn’t want to make it his last time seeing you. He wants to see you more, a lot more. He wants to see you outside of work, he wants to see you outside your work clothes. He wants to see you in jeans, a dress, in his bed—
He shakes his head, trying to stop himself from thinking like that. It’s disrespectful to you, he hasn’t known you for longer than a couple of months, and he can’t think about you that way. 
It’s hard not thinking like that. He thinks about his third visit with you, when you both were rudely interrupted. He thinks about what your waist feels like, what your face looks like. He thinks about it often, especially at night–
He cringes at himself, he feels like a teenage boy who’s never touched a woman. 
He tries to distract himself by looking at the tulips he bought for you. They’re closed and pink with long green stems. They’re beautiful just like you. He doesn’t understand, how someone can be so effortlessly beautiful. 
When you wear makeup or no makeup: beautiful. When you have your hair down and natural, sleek and bone straight, or up in braids, buns, or a scarf: beautiful. He can’t begin to comprehend it. 
Not only are you beautiful on the outside you have the personality of a goddess. You’re kind and compassionate but not afraid to snap back when someone gets out of line. That’s what makes him nervous, the doubts start flooding his mind. 
He’s still staring at the tulips when Soap enters his room. Unannounced. 
Soap comes into his quarters and scatters around the room. He looks in draws and under furniture, he's scattering stuff around as if he lives here. He is tossing his stuff around and looking in places he shouldn't be. Ghost hasn't even looked up, hasn't even acknowledged his presence. Ghost rolls his eyes so far back into his head when he hears Johnny whining to himself. 
“What’re ya lookin’ for Johnny?” He inquires in an irritated tone. 
“Lookin’ for my char–” He cuts himself off as finally looks up at Simon. He sees Simon slouched over his bed looking at the pot with pretty pink tulips and a wide, knowing, mischievous grin appears on his face. He looks like the Cheshire cat.
“Look at you Simon, those for that bird you've become so fond of…”
“Watch it Johnny” Ghost finally looks up, he's not pleased. Johnny continues like a mindless, careless, idiot.
“I've heard the rumors, some field nurse says she saw you two in her office…alone. Good on you Riley. Yer getting old now, ya deserve something like that. Herd shes a beauty too. ” He laughs obnoxiously at his own jokes. He slaps Ghost on the hard on his back and continues searching around his room
Ghost sits in silence for a while, thinking about Johnny’s words, he knows that he is joking, he’s not serious.
‘“Whatdya mean by I deserve something like that?” He finally inquires, the question was practically running around his mind. Johnny continued searching around the room as he answered his question.
“Well you know, ya have had a hard life. Yer always helping people, always trying to be the best, and ya never really had that soft life. I know ya don't think it but yer a good man and you deserve a good woman. We don't live forever so think ya should take the risk and do what you have to do… Are you sure you don't have my charger? He asked after giving some of the most meaningful advice that he'd ever heard.
“Get out,” he replied annoyed by his short attention span.
“Maybe Gaz has it,” he says and leaves the room as if nothing happened.
Those words resonate with Simon and he thinks about them for a long time. The time of the appointment was getting closer and closer. He couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he was going to say to you. He wanted to make it meaningful, he wanted to ask you out on a date. 
He wanted your friendship to continue and he wanted your relationship to grow and become more and more personal. He hasn't done this in a long time and he wanted it to mean something. 
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
15 minutes.
He had 15 minutes to figure out what the hell he was going to do.
As he made his way down the familiar hallway toward your office, every step seemed to quicken the pace of his heartbeat. The clock was counting down, each second would go by, getting closer to the moment. In his hands, he held a bouquet of vibrant tulips. He knows that he is catching the eyes of the people around him but each person he passed seemed to fade into the background.
It felt like when he visited you the first time, his hands were sweating and he was nervous. He says ‘hello’ to the woman at the front desk. Even though her attitude has always been rude and uptight however he thanks her every day for sending him to office number 222. The number that completely changed his life.
Now, standing just a few steps away from your door, his mind blanked, and his carefully rehearsed words were completely forgotten. Doubt starting to flood his veins. His hands are sweating again, and his heart is beating a mile a minute. He doesn't know if he can do this, he feels like it is a mistake but his feet won't stop. 
They won't stop because even though his brain is telling him to stop, his heart won't let him.
It's been years since he's ever felt this nervous, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He finally arrives in front of your door and holds the flowers behind his back. He gets ready to knock and says a silent prayer to whoever or whatever higher being is listening.  
He knocks.
He waits a beat and then he hears your beautiful voice say “Come on in.”
Right as you say that without thinking Simon impulsively rips off his balaclava off his face and opens the door. He watches as you slowly look up and he swears he sees a natural glow around you. 
“Hi, how can I help you?”
He doesn't respond, instead, he slowly brings the tulips to his front and presents them to you with a soft smile. You look at the man and he watches as you raise an eyebrow, it's like he can see the clogs turning in your head. Then he sees the pieces being put together in your head and your face lights up.
“Simon?” You ask with a gorgeous smile.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
giggling and kicking my feet
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
Text
Snippets for my Clone^2 Au that I thought was funny...
in incorrect quotes style format (Clone^2 = Both my Clone Damian Au and Clone Bruce Danny aus combined)
Snippet 1: Danny and Damian meeting for the first time
Danny, avoiding Damian's katana: I don't wanna know who made you I don't wanna know who made you I don't wanna know who made you Danny: pleASE STOP TRYING TO STAB ME
------- Snippet 2: Danny and Damian meeting (Alternative)
Bby Damian: gets dropped off in the ONE city where his dad's clone is Danny, internally: damn I don't wanna know who made you
Danny: alright little buddy, lets -- *blocks Damian's sword* please don't stab me -- let's get you something to -- *blocks Damian's sword* please don't stab me -- something to EAT
------------- Snippet 3: Danny checking out books in the library Librarian: oh, are you trying to learn arabic, Mister Fenton?
Danny: oh- uh, yeah :) my parents recently,,, took in a foster kid from overseas,,,, but we found out he doesn't know english and he's having a hard time adjusting Danny, lying (only partially) through his teeth: so I,,, thought,,, maybe it would help him acclimate to his new environment if I learned some arabic :) Librarian: oh how sweet! let me know if you need any help, i can find you more books Danny: thank you
----------
Snippet 4: Damian wants to patrol Damian: let me come with you on patrol Danny, 16 year old idiot who fights without powers: uh. no. you are Itty Bitty Child Damian: comes with anyways
----------- Snippet 5: Damian, trying to fight a ghost without a ghost-proof sword: Danny, catching him and holding him against his chest: *radiating exhaustion* no,,,, no,,,,, not yet,,,,
-------- Snippet 6: danny has an epiphany Danny, realizing that he needs to set an example now that Damian is coming with him on patrol: fUCK Danny: I NEED AN ACTUAL SUIT ---------- Snippet 7; dynamic duo Danny: what is it with you and batman and robin???? Damian, silently sweating: ,,,,,,,because they are exemplary partners and i would like to think that us two are the same Danny, doesnt know identities: ...aww??? thats kinda sweet??? okay :)
---------- Snippet 8: hypocrite Damian: dijaal (affectionate) Danny, on day ?? of solving a cold case after a ghost asked him to: hrbhk - Damian, what are you doing up? it's late, you have school in the morning Damian, staring at him deadpan: you have school too. you should go to bed Danny: five min..utes buddy. then i'll go to bed Damian, grabbing the back of his rolling chair and pushing him to bed: no. now. danny, with eyebags the size of the marianna trench: ...fine. now.
--------- Snippet 9: ...the line Danny, doing homework with Sam and Tucker: Danny: *has an epiphany* wait. shit Tucker and Sam: ...? Danny, his head in his hands: am I Damian's dad or his brother?? Danny: wh- what do we define this??? Tucker: ... you're brothers until its funny? and then you're his dad?
----------- Snippet 10: learning Danny: reading a book about learning arabic Damian, slamming his hand down on the book to get his attention: dijaal, *points to book* kitab Danny, frowning: what? Damian, tapping book: kitab Danny: ..ki..kitab? Kitab? Book? Damian: Boog...book. *points to table* tawila --------- Snippet 11: clone reveal Damian, later after he knows enough english and months of chilling out: i am a clone.... meant to kill my original Danny, internally: wow you don't say? Danny, out loud:..huh. okay. thanks for telling me, uh, same here. except that last part
---
Dijaal = imposter Damian is affectionately calling Danny an imposter because danny is a clone of bruce :)
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fuckmyskywalker · 10 months
Note
professor!anakin? or maybe dilf!anakin
— CW: Age gap! (Anakin is 40, reader is 23.), Modern!AU, Divorced!Anakin, Love/Touch/AttentionDeprived!Anakin, he overthinks! Kissie! 🤍.
— a/n: You got me at Dilf!Anakin. (Leia and Luke are around 15-16 in this AU!) I think this is gonna be a series! I would love to start a Dilf!Anakin series so send more asks on this one ;).
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He knows this is rather idiotic.
But then again... name one time he has done something he doesn't regret.
He could spend hours just rethinking his life…
But— when he sees you sitting at the other side of the table, smiling and glowing like the sun itself, he no longer feels like a pathetic, father of two, divorced 40 year old, but more of a hormonal teenage boy who is having his first date.
"Tell me about them, they sound charming" You say with the most pretty smile Anakin has even seen in his life.
And he was married once.
"Well… Leia is more of an extrovert, she is running for class president and there's no doubt she will win" He replies. He is actually impressed you look so interested in his life. "Luke is a bit more introverted, he's more into art and music… but as long as it makes him happy, guess I'm okay with it"
When he downloaded that confusing dating app at 3 am during one of those nights when he couldn't sleep, he never imaged he would encounter such a lovely young lady as you. Right away he understood people only tried to hook up, and he felt ridiculous for looking something more of a "long–term" thing in a damn app.
After ignoring some desperate texts asking for more pics, for a place to meet, and even for his Snapchat (he has no idea how to use that either), he then found you.
And he was so glad he did.
"I would love to meet them one day" You reply, bringing him back to reality. "I mean— if you want to meet up again, that is" You quickly add, blushing slightly at your straightforward comment.
«I want to see you every goddamned day» Anakin thinks.
You're almost 17 years younger than him, and he should be worried about that, but somehow the idea thrills him.
"That would be nice" He replies, giving you a little smile.
He learns about you, as much as he possible can during the two hours you spend on the restaurant. He sees you smile, and frown, and laugh, his heart racing at the joyous sound of your laughter. You are so beautiful. You are so full of life.
Anakin is so dull, or at least that's what he sees every day in the mirror.
It's been years since he has been on a date. Whatever experience he may have it probably faded with the years.
"I had fun" You speak, holding his arm when you two walk out of the restaurant. Anakin is relieved to know at least you enjoyed spending time with his old ass. "Thank you, and you didn't had to pay for everything, you know?"
"I know" He chuckles. "But I wanted to"
"I should get going. It's getting kinda late and I don't wanna bother you" You start, pulling out your phone from your purse and opening the uber app. Anakin just stares at you, frowning. "What?" You ask quizzically, giving him a curious look.
"I can give you a ride"
"Oh— it's okay! I don't want to bother—"
"It's not a bother, at all"
And he says it with the most sincere tone, his ceruleans irises staring deeply into yours... that you just can't refuse.
"Fine" You give in, squeezing your hand on his arm. Your smile is everything.
He opens the door for you, a gesture that you shouldn't find sweet but you do.
The city lights eclipse the stars, but not the moon. The full, yellow moon shines brightly on top of the tall buildings. For the first few minutes the car ride is silent, as you continue to stare to the moon.
"When Luke was a child he thought the moon was made out of cheese" Anakin says out of the blue, his eyes locked on the road. "And when Leia told him it wasn't, he cried for almost an hour"
Anakin glances at you from his peripheral, smirking when you laugh. He would do anything just to hear you laugh again.
The conversation blooms after that, and he's so sad the ride to your place isn't an hour long instead of 15 minutes.
The goodbye has him feeling awkward. Anakin doesn't know what to do. Should he kiss you? Would that be too much? A hug? That feels too clumsy inside the car. Just a wave feels too little...
His mind races a hundred kilometers per minute.
"Hey" Your voice drags him out of this trance. "I'm so glad we met" You place a hand on top of his, smiling fondly.
He eyes your makeup, did you really did that for him?
He finds himself admiring the color of your eyes, how your eyeshadow matches your skin tone perfectly, the pretty mole on your left cheek, and your lips, plump and soft and glistening with gloss.
"Me too" Anakin replies, mirroring your smile. "Whenever you want to go out again, just text me"
"I will" You nod, tilting your head to the side. "Good night, text me when you get home"
He doesn't want to go.
"I will, sleep well" Anakin feels like he should do something else, but his mind is blank.
Then, you lean closer.
Closer.
Closer.
His lips welcome yours almost instantly. The kiss is soft, a gentle touch he had no idea he was craving. Your lips taste like cherry, and when you close your eyes to kiss him he can't, he looks at your pretty expression and his heart jolts. His left hand cradles your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek.
When you pull away, Anakin has the urge to lean forward, to kiss you again, and never let go.
"Good night" You say one last time before walking down his car and walking towards your house.
Later that night, after he texts letting you know he got home safe, Anakin lays on his empty bed, staring at the ceiling, shirtless, with a storm of thoughts.
Of all the things Anakin Skywalker regrets from his life.
This isn't one.
And he can't wait to see you again.
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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes!
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