#I just want you to acknowledge what I’m going through with our situation but it’s like I don’t exist in that regard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carlsangel · 4 months

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LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU (PART ONE)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl have an argument and he makes it up to you.)

tags: SMUT!!! p in v, RIDINGGGGG BABYYYY, unprotected sex (be safe!)

masterlist here!

read part two!

i wrote this so i could get motivated to write again, it’s the first fic i’ve written that wasn’t requested in a long ass time, so this one’s just an idea from me and a fic for myself i hope u like!!!

Carl was always telling you that you needed to be safe outside the walls. He always told you if you were to go on a run, the only people you should go with was Daryl or Glenn. So, when he told you he couldn’t go on a woods date because he’d be going out for supplies with the two of them, you wanted to go with. But he still refused.

“I don’t understand, I thought you said it was fine if Glenn and Daryl took me, you said they’re the most reliable. We were supposed to go to the woods anyway…” You reason, following him through the house as he gathered his belongings. “We can go on the date tomorrow, anyway this time’s different. We’re going to the store on Miller street, the last time the guys went, it was filled with walkers.” He makes his way out of your guys’ room and down the hall. “Well why’re you going then? I don’t want you to.”

He stops just before the stairs and he sighs, turning around to look at you intently. “It’s just how it is, okay? I don’t want to have to worry about you out there, and you definitely don’t have to worry about me.” He explains. You’re sort of annoyed at the fact he thinks he has to take care of you. He continues down the steps and you follow after. “You don’t have to worry about me, I don’t understand. You’re being quite the hypocrite.” You refute. He shakes his head and grabs his bag before heading towards the door.

“Seriously Carl, what the fuck?” He places his hand on the handle and turns to you. “I’ll see you at eight.” He opens the door and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

You stayed home the whole day, quite pissed to say the least. You babysat Judith, which didn’t bother you at all but you’d rather have gone with him. You felt worried, not to mention left out. By the time they came home, you were sitting on the floor in the living room with Judith, playing with her toys. “Here, bug, this one has jingles.” You shake the toy in front of her and she yawns, grabbing it but dropping it. You hear the front door open and you see Carl and Daryl walking through the door. AKA your signal to get Judith up to bed.

You stand up and pull Judith up as well, letting her stand on your feet as you take slow steps towards the stairs. They both acknowledge you and Carl’s the first to say something. “Hey, how was babysitting?” He asks, noticing how focused you are on keeping Judith on your feet. “It was fun. We gotta go to bed, don’t we Judith?” You reply dismissively, Daryl and Carl share a knowing look while you head up the stairs.

You get Judith changed and in her crib, you exit and closer her door quietly before turning to be met with Carl just standing there. “Oh sh-” You put your hand over your heart and he sort of giggles at you. “Jesus christ make a noise or something.” You roll your eyes and walk down the hall and he follows after. “I’m alive, see? The run was a breeze.”

He tries his best to make you realize you were wrong about not wanting him to go out. “Yeah no shit, I see that but that doesn’t make the whole situation any less frustrating.” You retort. He closes the door behind you guys and you sit on the bed, kicking your boots off your feet and he does the same. “I was left here alone, not to mention you ditched our date.” You stand up to start changing and he watches you from the bed. “I know, and I’m sorry I just- It seemed like the best way for me to get practice with knives. I’m still not the best since…my eye.” He replies quietly. You turn from the dresser to look at him.

Well you just feel bad now. “Shit I just feel sort of selfish…I’m sorry.” You sort of sympathize with him and walk over to run your hand through his hair. “Don’t worry. I get it, probably more than anyone.” He holds the sides of your thighs, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over them as he looks up at you. “But, if you wanna make it up to me, and if you’d let me make it up to you…I can think of somethin we could do.”

Within the next couple minutes you’re both stripped of your clothes, Carl is sitting back against the pillows while you’re on his lap. He has your tit in his mouth, his eyes shut, just enjoying the feeling of your nipple against his tongue. He moans against your skin and your hand goes up to tug on his hair a bit. He pulls away from your chest to look up at you breathlessly. “Please I need to feel you.”

You smile and adjust your position on his lap, slowly sinking onto his dick. The both of you moan at the feeling, he leans his head against your chest as he feels your heat surround him. His hands go to your hips, yours go to his shoulders to steady yourself. He guides your hips back and forth, only making the pace quicker. “Oh fuck you drive me insane.” He mumbles into your chest, his eyes half lidded and his grip on your hips getting tighter.

You can feel him start to buck his hips upwards, pushing his dick farther into you. You lean on him a bit, resting your weight on your knees as you straddle him, allowing him to thrust up even more. He rests his hands on your waist and looks up at you, watching as your eyes roll back into your head at the pleasure. He slows a bit and you pull away to lean back on your hands, his cock still penetrating you while you steady yourself. This put your body on display, he could see everything.

You start to move yourself back and forth, practically fucking yourself on him. Carl’s eyes go wide at the way you grind on him, he could cum from the sight alone. And he almost did. “Fuck- m’gonna-” He said shakily. You’re breathing heavy, the feeling leaves you unable to speak and Carl leans forward to rub your clit with his thumb. That basically sends you over the edge and you cum, moaning quite loudly. The feeling of you clenching around him added on top of your moans causes Carl’s orgasm to follow shortly after.

A couple of minutes went by and you were cuddled together in bed, he’d cleaned you up and pulled your clothes back on for you. You loved aftercare with him, he was always the sweetest. The two of you soon fell asleep in the comfort of each other’s arms.

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

The next morning, you had perimeter watch so Carl woke up early to make you breakfast. Or try at least, he made you eggs and selected some fruit for you to eat before leaving. He sat and talked with you, making you laugh before leaving for work. You did a ton of different jobs at Alexandria, perimeter watch was your least favorite. You’d even faked having a bad headache one time to get out of it.

So, you stood there watching carefully when you hear a voice from the bottom of the post. It was Glenn. You peak your head over. “Can I come up?” He asks. “Yeah go for it.” You step back and continue to watch around the gates while you waited for him to climb up. Once he did, he looked at you and sort of laughed awkwardly. He was being weird but he’s always sort of like that so you didn’t pay any mind to it. “Did you need something?” Your focus is still on the scenery in front of you as you speak.

“Uhh…yeah there was sort of something I need to tell you about the run yesterday.” He was nervous and it was evident with his tone. You turn to him, your eyebrows furrowing a tad. “Okay..explain.” He nods and swallows hard. “Just- don’t get angry okay? I mean I’m not really meant to be saying anything but I feel horrible to keep it from you and-”

“Oh my god please just spit it out.” You cut him off. “Right. Yesterday Carl had a close call with a walker, it basically tackled him and was really close to just-” He stops for a moment but continues. “It almost bit his face off. Daryl saved him last second when I’d got close enough to hear their conversation…I guess they didn’t see me, they made an agreement to keep it from you. Not to tell you about it.” He explained, somewhat ashamed.

You stop to think. You felt shitty about it all, for sure. He’d gotten pissy at you about wanting to go, made you feel bad for not wanting him to go, and used the excuse of his eye. He told you it all went well. He lied to your face, then fucked you after.

a/n: part two is coming soon :)

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @evilnight07 @ilikestrawberriesandwomen

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cherrrydragon · 1 month

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➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

EPILOGUE: SATURN

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SUMMARY ↳ Welcome to your happy ever after. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: implied/brief sexual content wc: 2.9k

“What if they don’t like me?”

“Their opinion of us is pointless, Jon.”

“Are you talking about my friends, or the society as a whole?”

“Saying ‘society’ makes it sound like a cult. But, everyone.”

You sigh fondly at Jon. “Jon, there are, like, hundreds of us. You won’t even get to meet all of them.” Your hands brushes back his curls from his face. His head rests on your chest, looking up at you. “And my friends will like you. I promise.”

“This is scarier than meeting your dad,” he grumbles, closing his eyes at your touch.

It was only recently that Tony asked to meet your special someones. At first, he was quite against the idea of you spending time in the other universe when he had just got you back, but when you explained the situation (vaguely) he reluctantly let you go.

You jumped between universes for a couple of weeks before he finally asked to meet the two. You never thought you’d see Tony Stark give your boyfriends the shovel talk because of you, but you’ve lived through stranger things. To be fair, he only kept up the charade for a moment before leaning back and giving a casual smile.

“I trust [Name]’s judgment,” he had said. “If they see something in you two, then I guess that’s how it is.”

Damian, while having not said much the entire ordeal, had instantly and subtly relaxed at Tony’s words. Jon on the other hand, had obviously brightened up, feeling validated by Tony's acceptance. You remember that moment vividly—the relief and warmth that spread through you as Tony, in his own way, acknowledged and accepted your relationships with Jon and Damian. Not that you really had any doubt he would.

“Just wait till you meet Natasha. That’s the real final boss.” Maybe it was a little mean, but the way he gulped was cute. You turn over to Damian, taking in a moment to admire him. His bare skin glows under the rising sun. He’s on his side, head holding his arm up as he looks at you and Jon. You want to take the blanket covering him and pull it off.

“She’s actually a bit of an assassin. Maybe you’ll bond over that,” you tease.

Damian arches an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes despite his attempt to maintain a stoic demeanor. "Bonding over our own techniques, how charming," he remarks dryly, though there's a subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth, betraying his amusement.

You chuckle softly, running your hand through Jon’s hair. “If anyone gives you trouble,” you say, referring back to the previous subject. “I'll swoop in and rescue you." You give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m Superboy,” he says haughtily. “And Damian’s Robin. We’re already awesome.”

"Or, you could just be yourselves," you reassured him. "That's all I ever ask."

His expression softens, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss on your lips. "I know, baby," he murmurs, a soft smile spreading across his face. You smile against Jon's lips, feeling a rush of affection for both him and Damian. Damian shifts beside you, breaking the moment as he stretches lazily. You and Jon break apart to google at the way his muscles shift under the blanket.

He gives you both a knowing look, as if he's aware of the effect he has on you. He gives you both a knowing look, as if he's aware of the effect he has on you. "I trust your judgment, [Name]," Damian says quietly, his gaze softening as he looks at you. "And I appreciate your reassurance." He sits up, the blanket pooling around his waist.

You smile, feeling a surge of warmth at Damian's words. His trust means a lot to you, especially given his typically guarded nature. You reach out to gently squeeze his hand before turning back to Jon, who's now grinning mischievously.

He shifts, moving his legs further between yours. Your thighs fall open around his hips, allowing him closer. “Jon,” you chuckle, feeling a familiar spark light up in your stomach. He grins as he tucks his face into your neck, nipping and kissing.

“We have a couple of hours,” he mutters.

“That last time we had a couple of hours, you two broke the bed,” deadpans Damian.

You chuckle softly at Damian's deadpan remark, recalling the somewhat eventful aftermath of your last encounter. Jon lifts his head, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You should've bought a better one," he protests with a grin, leaning in to kiss Damian.

Damian rolls his eyes good-naturedly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Perhaps this time we should aim for a more durable surface," he suggests, his tone dry yet hinting at a subtle invitation.

You raise an eyebrow at him, a playful challenge in your eyes. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Damian Wayne?" Your voice is low, teasing.

“Counter sex?” pipes up Jon excitedly.

Damian inclines his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm merely considering practicalities," he replies, his gaze flickering between you and Jon.

“Counter sex,” confirms Jon to himself, hopping off of the bed and picking you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as he takes you out of the bedroom.

Damian follows suit. “Lay a towel down. We still cook there,” he mutters. “There’s some in the bottom cabinet.”

You raise a brow at him over Jon’s shoulder. Damian smirks slightly, a glint of playful challenge in his eyes. "I'm always prepared," he quips, his tone light but tinged with a hint of suggestion.

Jon laughs, throwing an arm around Damian's shoulders. "He's not kidding," Jon says with a grin, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Damian's cheek.

You shake your head fondly at them, feeling a rush of affection for both of them. "Alright, you two," you say with mock seriousness, "let's not break anything this time, okay?"

Damian raises an eyebrow, his smirk turning into a grin. "No promises," he replies, his gaze flickering mischievously.

Jon chuckles, leaning in to kiss you again, his touch warm and reassuring. "We'll be good," he murmurs against your lips, his tone playful yet sincere.

As Jon sets you down on the counter (towel under you), you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close for a lingering kiss. Damian joins in, his hands sliding around your waist, his touch both confident and gentle. The moment is charged with anticipation and affection, a comfortable closeness that speaks of trust and shared intimacy.

You hope they don’t leave too many marks.

The expressions on Jon and Damian’s faces mirror the ones they wore when they first saw the portal. Awe and apprehension. You grab their hands and pull them in, letting the swirl of hue pull you in.

Nueva York is as beautiful as it is bountiful in technology. The cityscape sprawls before them, a blend of futuristic marvels and bustling streets. Jon's eyes widen in wonder, while Damian's gaze sharpens, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a mix of curiosity and caution.

As you lead them through the bustling crowds, Jon leans in closer to you, his excitement palpable. "This place is incredible," he breathes, his eyes darting around to take in every detail.

Damian remains more reserved, his instincts on alert despite his outward calm. "It's... different," he remarks, his tone measured yet intrigued.

Many Spiders spare them a small glance before moving on. Your boys aren’t in their uniform, per your request. A good majority of them will have DC content in their universe, and you figure Jon and Damian will appreciate less attention on them.

“Come along now, my dears,” you tease, pulling them into an elevator. You, of course, take your place upside down, sticking to the ceiling. You watch as their eyes take in the view from the large window. As the elevator ascends, Jon and Damian remain in awe of the breathtaking view of Nueva York, their eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. The blend of futuristic skyscrapers and bustling streets below creates a vibrant tapestry of colors and lights, a stark contrast to the familiar landscapes of their own universe.

“Right here,” you say, hopping down to walk out of the elevator. The doors opens to reveal many Spiders, mingling and lingering about. You guide them down the hall, exchanging some light greetings.

“This is crazy,” breathes Jon.

“This is the lobby,” you smile. You gesture out to the intermingling hallways and walkways, designed for only Spider’s to navigate with efficiency.

“Welcome to Spider-Society,” you sing. The sight of countless Spiders swinging through the air and conversing in their unique way seems to leave Jon momentarily speechless, while Damian's eyes sharpen, cataloging every detail.

As you approach a large, open area, you see a familiar face approaching. Jessica Drew, one of the senior members of Spider-Society, gives you a warm smile and nods to Jon and Damian.

"[Name], good to see you," she says, her voice friendly. "And these must be your guests from the other universe?"

“Hi, Jess,” you smile. “This is Jon,” you point at the smiling boy. “And this is Damian,” you point at the stiff boy. “Jon and Damian, this is Jessica Drew, AKA, Spider-Woman.”

Jon smiles brightly and extends his hand to Jessica. "It's nice to meet you, Jessica," he says warmly.

Damian nods politely, his posture still a bit guarded. "A pleasure," he adds, though his tone is more reserved.

Jessica shakes Jon's hand and nods to Damian. "Welcome to Spider-Society," she says. "We've heard a lot about you two. [Name] speaks very highly of you both."

“Where’s Miguel?” you ask.

Jess rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Brooding in his lair, where else?”

You chuckle at Jessica's remark, shaking your head. "Of course he is," you say with a hint of fondness. "Well, I'd like to give them a small tour before we dive into any serious business."

Jessica nods, a knowing smile on her face. "Take your time. I'll let Miguel know you're here." She gives Jon and Damian one last friendly nod before heading off.

“And that’s where I come in!” chimes LYLA, materializing next to you. Jon jumps slightly at LYLA's sudden appearance, while Damian's eyes narrow in curiosity, studying the holographic AI. LYLA smiles brightly, her avatar flickering slightly.

“This is LYLA,” you smile, watching her wave. “She’s the AI assistant Miguel created. She helps us all out.”

“What is it with you and AI’s?” mutters Jon as you’re led through the containment tunnel.

You shrug. “It’s less of a Spider thing and more of a genius thing.” The self flattery is not subtle. “Though, Spider’s and geniusness are kind of one in the same.”

“And these are…?” prompts Damian, eyeing the holographic cages.

“Anomalies,” you chime. LYLA glitches next to you. “The ones that ended up in the wrong place, like I said before.”

“That’s a straight up rhino,” points out Jon, looking at a straight up rhino.

“That’s like, the third one I’ve seen end up here,” you hum in acknowledgment. You spot a blue avatar humming away near the system. “That’s Margo.” You wave at her. “That’s her avatar. Her body is back at her home dimension.”

“And that’s–” you point at the Go-Home machine, “–the Go-Home machine.”

“Great name,” murmurs Damian, crossing his arms.

You feel the need to clarify. “I didn’t get to vote on it.”

“It detects what universe you're from using your DNA and sends you there,” hums LYLA. Jon and Damian follow you and LYLA through the dimly lit corridor, their curiosity piqued by the unusual surroundings.

“Good luck,” sings LYLA, disappearing from view as you stop in front of a door. It opens revealing Miguel’s little set up. Thankfully, his platform is already on the floor, so you don’t have to sit through it lowering to the ground.

Miguel looks over his shoulder, holographic screens surrounding him. “[Name].”

“Miguel,” you greet, raising an eyebrow at his attempt to remain mysterious. “This is Jon and Damian. The ones I told you about.”

He hums, turning back to the screens. Jon rocks back and forth on his feet awkwardly. Damian narrows his eyes. You sigh.

“He’s still just a little bit pissy about the whole ‘multiverse collapsing’ thing,” you stage whisper.

“The what thing.”

Miguel shakes his head. “I’m not pissy–”

“No, they’re right. You’re pissy,” comes a voice, steadily getting closer. A familiar pink fluffy robe comes into view, a high pitched laugh following.

“Peter!” you greet with a grin.

“Hey, [Name],” he smiles, Mayday in his arms. He turns to Jon and Damian. “Hey, [Name]’s boyfriends.”

“Hey, Spider with a baby,” greets Jon, raising an arm.

“That's Peter, and that’s Peter’s daughter, Mayday.” You point at each person accordingly.

“Nice to meet you, Peter,” Jon says warmly, his smile genuine as he greets Peter and his daughter.

Damian nods politely, his demeanor still reserved but respectful. "Peter," he acknowledges with a nod.

“Oh, you kids are so polite. I hope Mayday grows up to be as nice as you,” he quickly turns his attention to Miguel. “Don’t worry about Miguel, he just looks scary. No bite at all.”

“Peter,” Miguel grumbles as a greeting.

“He’s the only Spider-Man that isn’t funny. We’re supposed to be funny.”

“Well he is funny,” you hum. “Just not on purpose.”

“Anyway,” Peter waves his hands, “Miguel was wrong, the multiverse isn’t gonna collapse–”

“Is anyone gonna tell me what that’s about or–”

“–And we are happy to have you here,” he smiles. Jon and Damian exchange a glance, seemingly trying to process the whirlwind of introductions and banter. Peter looks at you. “The other kids are in the lounge. You know the one.”

“Thanks, Pete,” you nod, grabbing your boys’ hands and leading them out of the room. “Stop brooding, Miguel! It’s not good for your age.”

“I’m not brooding–” The door closes on your way out.

“You know, Miguel actually reminds me of Batman,” you chuckle. Jon smirks at the way Damian’s nose wrinkles at the comparison.

“Are we gonna talk about the whole multiverse collasping thing?”

“Maybe later, sweetie.”

You lead them to a familiar door. Behind it is the lounge you and the other ‘Lings dubbed your own, filled with personal comforts and commodities. The door opens, and you loudly announce your presence. “What’s up, bitches?”

Hobie raises an arm from his place on the couch. Pav drops down from a web-hammock and Gwen and Miles poke their heads out from the mini kitchenette.

“Ooh, is that who I think it is?” smiles Pav.

“Spiderlings,” you call, motioning to your boyfriends once again today, “Meet my boyfriends.”

Hobie gets up from his position, arranging his lanky limbs to walk over to your group. “These the youngin’s that are givin’ Miguel grays?”

“That’s Hobie. Hobie Brown.” you smile, fist bumping him. “He’s not a hero because calling yourself a hero–”

“–Makes you a self mythologizing narcissistic autocrat,” nods Hobie. “You get it.”

Jon and Damian exchange glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and curiosity. Jon's eyes light up with excitement, while Damian's remain guarded but intrigued.

“Nice to meet you, Hobie,” Jon says, extending his hand.

Hobie gives Jon's hand a firm shake, his grin wide and genuine. “You too, mate. Anyone who can handle [Name] must be somethin' special.”

Damian nods politely, his posture still tense. “Likewise,” he says, his tone measured.

“Hi, new guys!” grins Pav, waving. “Pavitr Prabhakar. Everybody calls me Pav.”

You point. “Gwen Stacy.” She waves. “Miles Morales.” He raises a hand.

“Robin. Superboy,” Miles states, pointing at each of them.

You suck in a breath, looking at your boyfriends. “Yeah, you also exist as comics in his universe.”

Jon chuckles nervously, exchanging a glance with Damian. "This is... surreal," he admits, his voice tinged with both amusement and disbelief.

“Go easy on them,” you warn your friends.

Hobie smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “No promises, [Name]. But we’ll try.”

The lounge is filled with chatter and laughter as your friends and boyfriends exchange stories and get to know each other. The initial awkwardness melts away, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie. You watch as Jon and Damian slowly start to relax, their genuine interest and curiosity shining through.

After a while, Gwen gestures towards the large windows overlooking Nueva York. “Come on, let’s show you guys the view. It’s really pretty.”

Jon and Damian follow your group to the windows, their eyes widening in awe as they take in the sprawling cityscape. The blend of futuristic architecture and bustling streets creates a mesmerizing sight.

“It’s like something out of a sci-fi movie,” Jon breathes, his voice filled with wonder.

Damian nods, his gaze sweeping over the city. “It’s... remarkable,” he agrees.

You join them at the windows, slipping your arms around their waists. “I’m glad you like it. There’s so many beautiful universes I want to show you.”

As the sun begins to set, you bid goodbye to your friends. It’s time to go home. Jon and Damian seem to share the sentiment.

The comfort of your shared home invites you in as you settle into bed with your boys. You smile, “Thank you. You both mean a lot to me, and I wanted you to see this part of my life.”

“Thank you for sharing it with us,” mutters Damian, face tucked into your neck.

Jon leans in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. “We love you, [Name].”

“We do,” promises Damian.

You close your eyes, savoring the moment. “I love you both, too.”

notes: hey uh. dont know what to say LOL

thank you to everyone who stopped by and gave this fic a chance, and a special thank you if you've been here since day one! y'all invested fr lol

i know i don't always respond to comments BUT i do see them! and i appreciate everyone who leaves one :D and this goes for all of my works

ok bye!!! see you on the next work!!!!

#damian wayne x reader #dc x reader #jon kent x reader #robin x reader #superboy x reader

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14thgalerie · 11 months

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home

"In a chilling twist of events, you find your walls marred with splatters of crimson red, and at the epicenter stands your fiancé, a haunting nonchalance in his gaze."

• pairing: tom riddle x reader

• now playing: nfwmb by hozier

• word count: 4.2k

• genre: angst

“What have you done?” You ask, voice breaking in trepidation.

A heavy sense of unease permeated the air, leaving no doubt that what may come out of his mouth will only confirm your worst fears, yet, you still ask. Grappling at the little hope, that fading light, that maybe you might be wrong.

There was no response. The only audible noise was the eerie ruffling of the trees outside, swaying terrifyingly from the storm, paired with the endless ticking of the grandfather clock at the end of your entrance hall.

Hands turning cold and clammy, itching to scratch at the blockage in your throat. To plead with him to answer you truthfully, for once in the entire 10 years you’ve known each other.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” He finally speaks.

Maybe it was a false light. One that he deliberately put himself in order for you to believe that he was still worthy of your time, of your saviour acts.

“Did I ruin your act, huh?” You entertain this show of his, one last time. Letting him believe that he still holds the reins. But his piercing dark eyes that are brazenly fixed on you with such a deep intensity urge you to cower back against the door.

“No, I was just surprised, is all.” He puts on that god-awful mask— making you wonder how painfully stupid you were before to not realise you were being played as a fool. The one that he quickly plasters on as he walked the hallways of Hogwarts back then. A gentle smile that mirrors the one in his eyes, inviting and comfortable. “Let’s go outside, shall we?”

He reached out his pale hands, fingers decorated by silver rings, one of which was a gift from you years ago. His hands that always housed themselves above your thigh, tracing mindlessly despite the evident warmth that followed it.

The normalcy that laced his visage made you want to throw up the bile that had been bubbling in the pit of your stomach since your nose registered the metallic smell that permeated the living room air. It makes you sick that he is capable of such atrocities.

“No.”

You let a moment of silence occur, watching the mask crack, his perfect smile flinching. You have got to give it to him. He was able to send waves of fear through you, willing you to succumb to his every whim. Even now, as the blood paints the once cream-coloured walls. The walls that you spent hours meticulously covering.

“Let’s talk here, instead.”

He nods slowly, for the first time, you see how the state of being unsure of your next actions leaves him unsettled and tense. Eyebrows creasing ever so slightly, the bulwark he built around himself getting thicker.

“Did you honestly think you could get away with this?” You ask, puzzled at his gall. “To pretend that you can barely even see the original colour of our walls now because of-“

Your breath hitches at the thought, unable to speak the words out loud. To do so is to acknowledge that someone has brutally died in the very place that you planned to raise your child in. Somewhere that should have been a safe haven for you.

“Nothing a little magic couldn’t fix, Darling.”

“Are you dense? I don’t care for the walls!” You shout, unable to keep your wits on you anymore.

“Then why are you complaining about it then?”

“I’m talking about how you just killed, no, murdered somebody in our house. Our home. the one place that I should feel safe in.”

“And you are…anywhere you are as long as you’re with me.”

Raising your hands to your pursed lips, dragging it down in exasperation. It truly baffles you how unstirred he is in this situation. You knew he had a qualm for unusual habits, but never did you think that this would be one of those.

“How am I supposed to feel safe when you are the reason for this? The reason why someone would be left wondering where their loved one has gone missing?” The irritation poisoned your speech, but the alarm wasn’t veiled by it. “He could’ve been a father, a sibling, or whatever!”

“Do you really think I didn’t take the time to snuff out every possible hindrance to this? What do you think of me?” He says, almost offendedly. Although you weren’t even sure why. As if that made it any better.

“I don’t know. My fiancé, who works diligently as an auror for the Ministry and wouldn’t do such a terrible thing?” You sarcastically reply.

“Well you got the first part right but don’t act like this wasn’t all because of you.” He points at you with that long, slender finger. It reminded you of your father’s back when he used to reprimand your mother for whatever mistake she had supposedly made.

You glare at him through your eyelashes. “Don’t twist this around, Tom.” A snarl escaped you and you could feel a twinge of anger coursing through you at his words. In your confused and irritated mind, you don’t notice how he flinches at the sound of his name. He forces himself to believe that it was just a slip of the tongue.

“I’m not. I am honestly delighted that I did such a great job, dismembering his face enough that you can’t even recognise this man.” He says as he steps over the body that lies unconscious with its limbs twisted in unnatural ways. Blood covered the canvas of his face, his eyes welled up into dark circles, and from your view, seemed to have been missing a few front teeth. “I want to say I’m sorry that I had to take away the pretty face that you were so enamoured with, but that would be a lie because I hadn’t enjoyed my time like I did while doing so.”

You finally dare to look directly at the body, at the unfortunate person who runs out of luck, and a tiny light bulb in the back of your mind sparks. Yet, you still couldn’t quite put a finger on it. By a few breaths, you calm yourself enough to continue observing the broken figure.

From the corner of your eyes, a warm golden ring hits your vision. The shape was distinct enough that your brain made quick work to make the connection.

It was like a pin dropped in the still silence.

The realisation of who it was sent you spiralling even further into the hollow space in your mind. Cowering in the darkest corner of the space.

He is leaning against the marble counter in your kitchen, where you are still within clear eyesight for him. His body was lined with tension, like a spring coiled to a point of painful traction and you were just waiting for it to snap back.

“Tom…” There it is again.

“Yes, hun?” He takes a tasteful sip of the amber liquid. Savouring the taste of every last drop. The sight honestly distracts you for a second before you forcefully pull yourself back. Horrified at the thought of being aroused when a body lies cold on your carpet.

“Is this-”

“The man from the bar?” He hums, “Yes. Yes, that is him.”

A wicked grin paints his face, cruel malevolence dancing in his eyes. The glint in his eyes flickered with genuine delight as if he was presented with a chance to show off his new toy.

“It was an easy catch, I will tell you that. I was expecting him to put up a bit of a fight seeing as he was all macho with you.” He divulges. Leisurely walking back to the living room, stopping at the person’s head, giving it a nudge with his speck clean leather shoes.

“Why did you do it?” You cut him off. Your mind was reeling at his words as an endless pit formed in your stomach. Talking about it as if it was something mundane.

But he ignores you and continues as if your words were only a gust of wind. While he expectedly should not be a fan of your blatant disregard for him, he doesn’t say a thing about it.

“I followed him the day after, tracking him for a while, noting if there was something else that would hit him harder but seeing him regularly forget he has a family by flirting with young women day and night…it was only right that I rid the world of vermin.”

“You mean to tell me that you had tortured this man to his death all because of his proclivity for cheating on his wife?”

He looks to you, and for the first time that night, a semblance of something else appears on his face. A cocktail of disdain and hatred. “Is that something not worthy of punishment? To swear your vows to a person you declared to be your love and then blatantly lie to their faces about your nightly habits. To forget that your children are waiting for you to pick them up from kindergarten so he could get his cock wet.”

Tom kept his eyes on you, his face breaking into pieces of anger and confusion. “Tell me. Is he not worthy of such when he deliberately chooses women who are half his age? All the while knowing his age gives him power over them?”

You shook your head, tears welling and blurring your vision. You blinked to keep them away as you didn’t want to appear weak in front of him. The way your emotions have dipped and hiked in the past hour has already been too much, leaving you utterly confused about what is even happening anymore.

“I don’t know anymore, Tom. I have no idea what to think, what to focus on and scorn you in particular. Your blatant disregard for our home, using it as your fucking slaughterhouse, now that we mention it, should be something to talk about. You just killed a person, no, you tortured somebody with pure malice.”

“He should’ve been hung, strangled, and quartered!” He pauses, realising his voice has turned a lot louder than he intended. “I’m sorry. But it’s true, Y/N, even if he has done nothing to you, he deserves all of those things and no less.”

His thumbs soothed over your knuckles that have turned pale from their tight clench, easing your hands until your palms are open to him. The twinge of pain from the pink crescent moons on the surface alleviated with his gentle touch.

He leans down, lips tenderly kissing the hand secured in his grasp, before twisting his head to press with the same gentleness on your other hand.

“I am well aware that you abhor these kinds of actions. It’s why I worked hard to keep it from you, I never wanted for you to think of me as some person who reverted to violence for no reason.” He kneels down next to your seated figure to level your eyes. “You are somebody special to me, and not a single word that I know of would be enough to perfectly explain that to you. Nothing in this world, in this reality, could take you away from me unless you wish it yourself. But please, I beg you to understand that I did this out of pure concern and love only.”

Tom raises one of his hands, letting it sit gingerly on your knees that, without your control, has succumbed to your habit of bouncing it in moments of tension. Pressing it with just the right balance of force and gentleness to calm you.

He swallows hard, his chestnut brown eyes flickering back and forth between your own. The previous edge in them is long gone as he looks up at you, instead, a hint of desperation takes its place.

“You love me, don’t you? I know you do and I never for a second have doubted that. I feel the same, and possibly even more than you do and it scares me. I was never made to know love nor ever experience it so when I met you, I swore that there would be nothing in existence that can forcefully keep you away from me.” He says in one breath until his body finally forces him to take one, then he continues. “When I told you how my mind and soul is yours only, I meant it. You are the sole person who can tell me that we are done but please. I will beg on my knees until they are bleeding so that you understand that.”

You finally look at him, actually, look at him. Not one of fleeting glance only. Stomach twisting.

“No law or morality will stop me.”

This is what worried you.

You were sure to tell him off. Take him up on his offer to be away from him without a hint of resistance. At least, more than halfway sure already, but those eyes. Those fucking eyes. You were worried that if you looked at them, every nerve in you that was ready to run would relax. That you would be catapulted into your foolishness, and all the right senses would be nothing.

To see that there isn’t an inkling of malicious ambition in those eyes, but instead, there was only unabashed determination and genuineness behind his words. An openness only reserved for you.

Your heart immediately starts hammering against your rib cage, and you try to resist the urge to give in to him. Forcefully diverting your mind to the monstrosity he committed in your home.

Tom sees this. He always did. He knows you better than you ever will.

“I won’t promise that this would be the last time because that would be a lie and I promised to you that that is something I will never do to you. But I can promise you that you won’t ever have to see this ever again, also because I don’t want you to.”

When he sees that you have finally cooled down, he slowly moves to sit next to you. Making sure that there is still enough space between the two of you so that you don’t feel uncomfortable.

“Tom…” You call out in a meek voice. He hums, patiently waiting for you to continue.

“I get the reason why, as much as it still baffles me, but you didn’t have to go through this much.” Exhaling shakily. “You didn’t have to beat him until he saw the pyres of hell. Report him to the proper authorities for his crimes! That should’ve been the first thing that popped into your head, for Merlin’s sake!”

Your torso swivels to face him, eyes wide as you let everything out. Emotions pouring out of you in the form of tears, staining your cheeks wet again. Tom wanted nothing more than to wipe them away and pull you to his chest, but he knew that you were like this because of him and he didn’t want to push further away from him.

“Why did you have to drag him into our home? Tainting our home with this kind of violence, hell Tom! This is supposed to be where our child would be raised, where they would be spending their lives and now I don’t even know if they should be.” You shouted, waving your arms around wildly.

“They can, darling. This is the safest place they would be in, I would make sure of that. If there is anything that I will prioritise more than anything is your safety and our future kid.” He assures you.

“I don’t want them to witness these kinds of violence.”

“And they never will, just as you never will also. Tonight was an unfortunate mistake for me, one that I will never make again. And I am sorry that you had to, please forgive me.”

“I don’t know.” A murmur, one that could have been passed for a breath. But his sharp ears strained to pick it up.

He was angry. Enraged at himself. This wasn’t how he planned tonight to go, it was supposed to be an easy work and toss. He hadn’t expected you to be a part of the equation, planning the events of the night around yours to ensure that you wouldn’t have a clue of what transpired in your home.

In all fairness, it was a dangerous game that he played. Taking that piece of disgusting waste to your home was a step that he had to take so that he wouldn’t be disturbed by nosy strangers. Taking the off chance that you wouldn’t be home by then.

He was angry at himself that he had broken the unsaid promise to keep this side of him away from you. A small part of him was terrified that you would turn your back on him just as the people before you did. Taking the life that he could have only dreamt of back then with you. The thought curses away the ridiculous calm facade that he has kept when around you.

“No.” Vehemently shaking his head back and forth, dropping your hands on the softcover of your couch as he jumps up to pace in front of you. Trying to calm himself at the prospect of his worst fear turning into a reality. “I’m sorry, okay. I really am. We could move far away, build the house of our dreams and forget that this happened. But I need you to forgive me, Y/N. Please.”

To your utter surprise, he harshly drops onto his knees. Taking your hands back in his trembling hands.

“Tom.” You begin before you are cut off, “You need to stop calling me that.”

“What do you mean? That’s your name.” You confusedly ask.

“Call me darling again, call me anything but that. It’s almost as if you gave up already and that can’t happen, please. I need to know that I'm not alone in this. Please, I’m so sorry.” He says, a slight tremor in his voice.

Your heart breaks at the sight in front of you. The once strong and unwavering countenance he puts on every day was nowhere in sight. Instead, there was a man who was unknown to you, placing his vulnerable self all out for you to see. In a sense that you’ve never before seen, he was gentle to you, yes, but never like this.

Tears lined his waterline until it couldn’t be controlled anymore and they were slipping down his cheeks like a torrential downpour. He was inconsolable.

No time would be enough for you to understand the emotions twirling behind those dark eyes. Overwhelming you to the point of giving in. There was anger, pain, sorrow, and all of it. And you knew he was trying his best to control it, evident by the way his hands were tensing, not wanting to fist them.

“I’m so sorry, ok, and I know that saying it repeatedly for the rest of our days together wouldn’t be enough, but I need you to know that I am. Words are the only thing I can give you right now, however, if you let me…I would prove it to you every day in any way possible to man.”

“I’m pregnant.”

A pause in the beat of sound.

His ears were ringing.

He had no idea if time had paused and his mind was left wondering in the abyss of time if he was hearing things that weren’t true.

“I’m about three weeks pregnant already.”

It was only when your tiny voice permeated through the silent room that he realised he wasn’t being delusional. His ears had not fooled him.

“You…you are?” He asks, with hesitation lining every syllable.

“I am. I found out today which is why I came home.”

If he was confused by the torrent of emotions and thoughts that waved over him earlier, now it was like he couldn’t comprehend a single exhale anymore. It was only at your touch and call that he let his lungs feel a wave of oxygen.

“I already had my suspicions earlier this week, but I wanted to be sure before I told you, hence why I made a plan with a friend to go to the doctor today. I kept it a secret so I wouldn’t get your hopes up, I know we have been talking about it for a while now so I didn’t want it to be a false alarm.” You explain.

“So here I was, so excited when the doctor told me that I was indeed pregnant with our child that I forgot to tell you I was coming home. I assumed that you were making dinner and I wanted to make it a surprise, so I got ourselves a cake to celebrate.”

A single chuckle leaves you. “Well, obviously that didn’t go well.” You said as you looked at the box of ruined dessert by the door from when you dropped it.

Although his mind was still haywire from what you had announced, he still made an effort to let you know he was listening intently. Giving you a gentle squeeze in the hand.

“I want them to have a normal life, one that is far from the atrocities of the world and I know that is a child’s prayer, a romantic dream, but I will try my very best to achieve that. That includes taking them far away from this home, from their father, if need be.”

He looked at you as he moved to sit back next to you, keeping hold of your hand still, an unfamiliar look in his expression.

“Y/N…darling, forget what I said earlier. I would never put a hand on another person again if it meant there wouldn’t even be someone for me to do it for. I will control myself, take the sessions you told me about.” He declares, with a finality in his voice that shows his determination to prove he was being true.

It was a lie, and you knew that. A little, white lie. You’ve been with Tom since 5th year, and now you are at the age of 24, if anybody knew his body language better than anyone, it would be you.

He would only be more cautious now, making sure that every grainy detail is there in its proper places. Ensure that he would never make the mistake of making you see what he is capable of.

You look at the dormant body that has long passed in the middle of your living room. Mind reeling back to what he mentioned earlier. Now that you have calmed down, you realise that your outburst was more because of shock and less of that piece of trash. He did indeed make you uncomfortable, and if Tom hadn’t been there, you had no idea of your fate then. Added on by the fact that this was apparently a pattern he does to other women.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know what to feel at the moment after all that had happened in the span of an hour. You suppose you should be livid, upset, hell, even guilty that you’re somewhat relieved that someone had enacted an act of revenge on a disgraceful human being.

Tonight was a whirlwind of emotions, to say the least, and you couldn’t trust yourself to make a just and coherent decision.

“If-“ His breath hitches, the thought that flashed behind his eyes making him gasp for air. “If I lose control again, I will never force you to stay with me.”

“Tom, I am not asking you to do all of that. Though, it would be great for yourself and for your mental well-being because you need to find more healthy ways to deal with your problems.” You sigh. “I just ask you to please never let our child see whatever violence you inflict on others, I don’t want him to grow up thinking that this is the answer to everything. They should grow up with the proper mindset that you didn’t that I know you want also.”

“I know but I’ll still try to better myself, for myself. I can’t promise it would be fast, nor can I even promise it would work, but I’ll try.”

“I’ll go stay at an inn tonight while you deal with this-“ Waving your hand around unfashionably. “mess. I’ll call you in the morning and please?”

“What is it?” He asks.

“Take another day off because we need to look at a new house immediately, I cannot stand to breathe in another particle from this place anymore.”

“Whatever the wife wants.” He smiles and pushes a whisper of a kiss against your soft lips. “Still a few more months, Mr. Riddle. I’m tired so I'll go now. Let’s talk more tomorrow because I don’t think I can last another second staying awake.”

“I’ll drive you there, I don’t want you apparating anymore.”

“No complaints here,” You mumble against his lips that gently press onto yours. Wanting to say the three words that you loved to say but before you could,

“I love you, too.”

— hello there ! moved my notes here becuase the intro was too long. this initially had a whole back story that lead up to the events here but i cut it out because that part was taking too much time to complete. also hello, i'm finally writing for my og crush in harry potter but uh i decided to use the tom hughes fancast since this is set way after they graduated.

masterlist

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle angst #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #slytherin #tom riddle oneshot #tom marvolo riddle

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morphean42 · 9 days

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Rewatching Falsettos I was suddenly struck by an epiphany that I’m sure someone else has had at some point, but I needed to write out. This ending scene from “March of the Falsettos” jumped out at me from the first watching, but even though I recognised the nod to the “See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil (and lesser known do no evil)”, I didn’t know what it meant. Today, I tried to piece it together, and I think I’ve gotten it. These poses represent core attributes of the characters, as well as Trina’s view of them, so click the read more to hear the ravings of a mad man wayyyyyy too obsessed with this show

The idea of ‘evil’ to me is very loose. It can represent a lot of things for these characters; their actions towards each other, their character flaws, etc. But, for this analysis, one can replace ‘evil’ with ‘truth’. Each of the characters refuses to see, speak, hear, or ‘do’ the truth (please excuse the lack of grammar for that last one), and that is where the ‘evil’ stems from. Taking into account this is mostly based on Trina’s view of the men, I think ‘truth’ fits in well.

Let’s start with the one who fits in least— Jason. “March of the Falsettos” is a physical manifestation of how Trina views the men in her life (as childish and immature), but some slack is given to her son. He doesn’t sing his lines in falsetto, because we acknowledge he is in fact a child, and has more of an excuse to act as such. So, take his analysis with a grain of salt. The boy has every right to be a little selfish— he’s 10.

So, Jason has his hands over his eyes, representing ‘See No Evil’. This is a direct nod to his character flaw; his view of the world with him at the center. Although his parents are less than good to him, he still sees them through unfair lenses— ‘My mother’s no wife/My father’s no man’. He sings ‘everybody’s yelling and everybody’s ruining it’ in “Everyone Hates His Parents” because he is unhappy with how his Bar Mitzvah is turning out and wants to simply cancel it. He doesn’t have a concept of doing things for other people (again, he’s a child, I’m not blaming him per se), so he is blind to the will of others and refuses to see their side. In addition to this, even when Mendel tells him Whizzer will most likely die, Jason pleads with G-d to save him. He still views himself as the center of his world, thus Mendel’s line ‘Life’s not all about him’.

In addition to this, his ‘See No Evil’ means something when thought about from Trina’s perspective. She thinks her son is blind to the truth of the world, this son who stays inside playing chess alone, this son who ‘seems like an idiot to [Trina]’. She worries Jason will turn out like these other men in her world, blind to everyone but himself.

Now we come to Mendel, who has his hand over his mouth in ‘Speak No Evil’. Mendel’s flaw throughout the show is his refusal to accept the truth of any situation. He tells Jason to ‘feel alright for the rest of your life’ instead of actually trying to help, he is ‘frightened of questions’, he repeats over and over ‘I’ll make you well’ to Whizzer in the hospital. He will never say anything negative, nor will he allow others to do so. Even in the end of the show, he tells Jason they don’t know ‘when or if’ Whizzer will get better— he is still not accepting that it’s a definite thing. He believes that if he and those around him just don’t speak about the real problems, they’ll go away.

Trina’s view on Mendel is complicated here. In the next song she agrees to marry him, of course, and we know she at least likes him (the most of all three adults she knows). She says that Mendel ‘decides the role to assume’. She looks down on the fact that he can’t speak the truth to her, that he’s expecting this happy wife, this perfect new family. He wants her to play along with him and make their home together, even if she sings ‘liking our lives’ instead of loving. Even if he’s better than Marvin ever was, there’s still an element of control here. Mendel wants this family, and he wants them to all pretend nothing is ever wrong again.

Marvin, our titular character, is in the ‘Hear No Evil’ position. This one is fairly straight forward— he wants control and will never listen to the needs of those around him. He can’t hear what they actually need, he simply does what he wants. He also struggles with his masculinity throughout Act 1, his outward misogyny and need for the nuclear family (his treatment of Trina and Whizzer), so he imagines himself at the top of his family system. He will never take any other opinions, or counsel, in his decisions, seeing that as weakness. He’s similar to Jason in this regard, as he only hears what he wants to (like Jason only sees what he wants). He ignores the pain around him to pursue his own desires, he covers his ears and moves on.

Trina, of course, despises Marvin at this point in the show. Her subconscious showing Marvin in ‘Hear No Evil’ can tell us a lot about their relationship, how she was never seen as equal in decisions. Marvin always put her to the side, not listening to her needs, acting without thinking of her.

Whizzer is complicated. I’ve seen people laugh at his pose before, saying we’ve got ‘See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, and Gay’, but I think he represents the ‘Do No Evil’. This final character is not often seen with the other three, and can be depicted with arms over the chest or covering the genitals. It wouldn’t make sense to have Whizzer be the outlier (especially because the fourth depiction of evil does exist), so I’m assuming he is supposed to be ‘Do No Evil’.

This fits in well with Whizzer’s flaws throughout the show. He doesn’t accept responsibility for his relationship with Marvin; seen in the lines ‘I’m not responsible’ during “Late For Dinner” or ‘I will not accept blame’ in “Games I Play”. He sleeps around, despite Marvin wanting monogamy, and clearly did not have an issue hooking up with a married man. Whizzer fundamentally doesn’t think his actions have consequences, he believes he has done nothing wrong (he has done no evil). Whizzer also has a hard time admitting to his love for Marvin. He says it ‘depends on the day’, he flat out says ‘no’ when asked if he loves him. He doesn’t want to show his love for fear of being too vulnerable, so he hides and doesn’t do anything about it.

To take this even further, him being ‘Do No Evil’ can represent his later question of ‘why me of all men’ when he is dying. He hasn’t done anything to deserve his death, and ‘all men get what they deserve’, right?

Moving on to how Trina sees Whizzer. He’s come into her life and ruined her marriage, though she ‘wants to hate him’ she can’t. She views him as the cause of her recent hardships, his actions being to blame. He is ‘Do No Evil’ to her because he has done evil in taking Marvin away (though it is obvious Trina is better off because of it). He has upset the careful balance of her world by breaking down the lies of her marriage and exposing the truth— Marvin never loved her, could never love her. She puts him in ‘Do No Evil’ because what he has done is what the rest of the men won’t— see, hear, speak the truth even at the detriment of her family.

Another way to view this is, of course, the fact that ‘Do No Evil’ is rarely seen with the others. Trina is separating Whizzer from the other men, not putting him in the same category as the rest of the ‘family’. He views himself as an outsider as well, yes he’s part of the group, but only as a technicality. Only as Marvin’s lover. Once he leaves Marvin, he is easily taken out of the equation and the remaining three do not feel the loss.

My conclusion is such: Each of the poses our men do represents the character flaw they must overcome throughout the show, as well as how Trina views them in her mind. I really hope this made any sort of sense, and if someone has already said all of this well… I guess it can’t hurt to be thorough.

I’m way too tired to read through this again so if there are spelling mistakes please print out this post, correct it in red pen, and send it to me by carrier pigeon.

#falsettos #falsettos analysis #jason falsettos #marvin falsettos #the marvin trilogy #whizzer falsettos #whizzer brown #mendel falsettos #mendel weisenbachfeld #trina falsettos #march of the falsettos

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girlreblogger · 7 months

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the annoyance with blk y/n and the stories she’s in is hilarious. her characteristics might be the problem one day or her side characters the next. it legit feels like we may never get to a balanced solution on what to do with our own representation since the wrong ppl always talk about it and create it. we have mean and shallow ppl who take over the conversation, ppl who really self hate but try and cover it up with “i just don’t want her to be a stereotype” and then the ones who probably love and support tyler perry movies.

the bottom line is the ppl who do write those niggafying, toxic (it’s a buzzword but that’s what they are) or smutty fics (not talking abt the actual good ones with a blk reader though 🧎🏽‍♀️) can do wtv they want and owe you nothing. that’s why they get so frustrated. i don’t think all the times those should be crucified for what they write when other groups of ppl (or our own) write all kinds of other crazy shit.

and.. i know a lot of ppl who don’t want to say it but y’all keep bringing up the smut and niggafying as the main problem, but i think it’s some of the ppl writing it and their underlings. it’s just no one wants to say anything.

an excerpt from a draft of mine

“a lot of ppl on here be weirdos or mean asl. so when someone block you don’t be like “oh what i did” “they that mad cause of my (internet—fictional—digital on screen) presence”

like nobody got time to go to your acc and say “i don’t like you” who cares. oddly some miserable ppl do actually but still. the lack of awareness is ridiculous. that’s why ppl don’t f with y’all.”

i was talking abt all of tumblr and every other app but it applies here.

from what i see on here, some are just straight up weird, cliquey, and chiesty (if that’s how you spell it) and that’s why ppl be so mad abt those types of books 💀. we also have to acknowledge the amount of overwhelming & honestly damaging blk yn fics (not to be confused with ppls screwed ideas of stereotypical) there are. i understand why ppl write them for personal reasons but when it comes to our own reflections of ourselves as blk women it’s almost hurtful to read some of the things people put “her” through. i mean even her with a white man that use aave and has cornrows is hurtful.. 😔 (i’m trolling now 💀) naw but fr. i personally don’t like reading blk women just being written for smut or going through crazy situations or kinda like.. i don’t wanna say unfulfilling but like.. idk i can’t think of the word. (edit: ppl write blk yn to be in unfulfilling situations) but girl i can watch a tyler perry movie for all that.

again. ppl write these stories for there own personal reasons, relate to them and enjoy them for those reasons as well. that’s why depending! on what it is i don’t think blk writers should be bombarded with hate like that. also ion think smut should be banned like y’all go to far can we just slow down on it … there are some nice ones out there i promise 🧎🏽‍♀️

but in all seriousness there are many other reasons why i feel toxic and smutty fics are popular for blk yn but i don’t think anyone cares to hear that and the conversion will prolly go back to nigga eren somehow which is crazy cause y’all be arguing over a fictional white man.

oh! 😒 i almost forgot 😒 the ppl who are against “ghetto” y/n to try and advocate for more fluffy or like.. normal (healing) stories and from what i see the ppl who are the most up in arms about it in my personal opinion seem to dislike certain parts of blkness that i appreciate personally and so i just straight up disregard their opinions. y/n doesn’t have to “act” (😒) blk but i see ppl get mad about her protecting her hair….. with a bonnet….

sigh, anyway but yeah we need more soft and sweet fics or just like calming ones? but someone gon have to write it! i don’t like this app or my writing all too much so i gave up a while ago.

just like many other blk writers….

gaspp! we should also do like a fluff challenge or sumn where writers do like fluff … march? girl idk so maybe that will trend and all the ppl who spend time arguing and going back and forth with ppl who write stories they don’t like can like idk look for other writers who write soft, normal, fun stories and reblog them or make a list of them. or maybe like possibly write their own stories too????

everyone says the smut fics gets the most likes and they do. that’s why you keep seeing them. so maybe support or refreakingblog the fics that are comforting to you so others can be as well.

i actually made this page to repost softer fics because i was tired of blocking certain tags so i can avoid heavy smut and subtly abuse fics. also pls leave the ppl who niggafy anime characters alone they will not be stopped. i mean we still have ppl who have been calling chris evans jamal since 2020.. calling him that to this date. married and all.

sigh… 2 more days until blk history month ends. maybe next year we can find a balance between “dramatic” and smutty fics and soft and slice of life ones for blk y/n next year. remember this is tumblr too and the ppl writing aren’t even getting paid for this but it’s for the ppl yk.

ppl who are respectful and reblog tho.

muah

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whateverisbeautiful · 1 month

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#33: The Push (1.04)

While I had to basically dedicate a whole post to that one powerful line where Michonne expresses that she only feels safe when she's with Rick…we now have to talk about how the rest of this riveting scene goes. Because see, Michonne only feels safe with Rick...but Rick is not exactly the one in this gym with her right now as we get the return of his alter ego The Bold As Hell Talking To His Wife Like That Man 😑...

So after Michonne so beautifully and vulnerably expresses herself to Rick, I was very curious how Rick would respond to such a heartfelt confession. Like here is your lovely wife telling you essentially that you're her only true safe space so now you know that no matter how you try to keep her safe from a distance, she’s never really going to feel safe unless you’re with her. I just knew something like that was going to hit Rick’s heart.

But what I didn’t fully realize is that Real Rick is so deeply buried inside Dead Rick so even that moving sentiment from Michonne doesn't penetrate his heart the way I thought it would.

And with Rick's response, this is the most this man has ever tried it ever imo so let’s talk about it...

After Michonne says she only feels safe with him, Rick silently stares at her, at a loss for words again and still frowning. While I know deep down her words hit him, he still has a wall up rn.

Upon hearing this, I feel like you can see on Rick's face that he knows the biggest obstacle to getting Michonne home safe is himself, because she loves him too much to leave him. Hence he proceeds to try and remove the 'obstacle' by no longer being a safe place to land for her which is hard to watch.

Michonne walks up to him and knowing he’s consumed with fear she softly but adamantly tells him, “We don’t have to be afraid, Rick.” I like how she says "we" instead of just telling him he doesn't have to be afraid. They're still one unit to her and they can face this together the second they get it together. She's confident they don't have to let fear dictate how they move because the two of them can always overcome.

Rick is also adamant tho when he responds saying, “Yes we do.” And then Michonne stays asking the right questions when she says, “So that's what I tell our son? That his father didn’t want to know anything about him because he was so afraid?”

Every time Michonne has to acknowledge Rick’s lack of acknowledgment of their son it hurts my heart. 😥 Like Rick, this is a special brand of hurt you are causing your wife.

But as y’all know, it only got worse. 🙃

Rick says, “I’m not the Brave Man.” 😔 And one; I do like how at least him saying this means the Brave Man story Michonne told him about did stick with him. Like he had been acting like so much of what she was saying was just bouncing right off the walls of his heart, but it’s clearly all seeping in, he’s just trying to mask it.

And two; it very sad how assuredly Rick says this. Like he truly believes that the brave man he once was is no more. He only views himself as a fearful failure now. 😥

Rick doesn't realize that the fact that he's still on this earth after everything he's been through is a sign of his resilience and strength so he is still the Brave Man.

gif cred: @nat111love

And then…y’all, Rick says the one thing I told him not to say. 😪

There was one comment that was most off limits and it’s the one he makes when he says, “You shouldn’t have come. I was taken away. I didn’t have a choice. You did.” The audacity. I'm pissed every time I hear it idc.

It was so cruel, so wrong, and so unfair of him to say that. Especially with what this is implying about Michonne as a mother. I think we all knew there might have been a "You shouldn't have come" moment in TOWL but for me what makes this so egregious is him comparing her situation to his and basically saying she made a bad choice. Appalled tbh. 😑

(Even tho stepping outside of the show, I really respect Danai for trusting that she could have Rick say something so foul and still believably get Richonne to a rewarding point of reconciliation by the end of the episode. 👏🏽)

gif cred: @figmentof

When Michonne hears this you can see how incredibly hurtful it is in her eyes so she does the only thing to do in this moment and she pushes him away. And I felt that shove with every fiber and it was necessary because whoever this was in front of her wasn’t Rick. Like this was a pain-inflicting imposter and he needed to get away from her.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

As Rick does a figurative push away, Michonne does a literal push away.

And then the look Rick gives when she pushes him…y’all for me this is the scariest he’s ever been. 🫣

Like more than Machete Rick, and Feral Rick, and all those other lethal Ricks…this moment where there’s seemingly nothing behind his eyes is just straight terrifying.

I know I joke about The Bold As Hell Man as a new character thing but in this moment I genuinely was like 'Michonne, I do not know who is in this gym with you right now.' Like truly who the hell is this man in here cuz I don’t know him. 🫢

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

Regarding the approach to Rick’s coldness in ep 4 - something I’ve lauded Michonne for in the past is how she is very good at both empathy and accountability and that’s how I personally approach this conversation about Rick’s fear-based behavior as well.

I empathize with the fact that Rick is operating from a place of pain, trauma, and deep love for Michonne while also knowing that the way he is hurting his wife is so not okay. Being in pain doesn’t give a free pass to deliberately cause pain to someone else. And he is intentionally hurting her.

I can both understand that he has severe PTSD and is really trying to hurt himself even more than her because he ultimately wants to protect her, while also knowing that ‘Dead’ Rick'...

I’ve always felt that in a soulmate partnership like this, you have every right to feel what you feel but also every responsibility to not emotionally disappear on or damage your partner in the process of navigating those feelings.

But people are flawed and don’t handle everything perfectly, especially in the midst of trauma which is why I can empathize with the situation. Both on Rick’s end and Michonne’s too as she has every right to feel what she feels.

Rick is so convinced that he is not worth coming after. That she should have given up on him just like he essentially gave up on himself. It’s hard for him to grasp how valued he is. Self-depreciation is what he feels most strongly but it manifests itself as almost condemning her and telling her she essentially made the wrong choice as a mother to leave and look for him. It’s so below the belt to say that.

Rick knows with the love they have this was really the only choice for her to come. I think that might be part of why she tells him he doesn't know anything anymore. Like he forgot how their love and partnership work. They don’t leave people behind especially not each other.

And Michonne was in such a tough conflicting situation when she learned Rick survived the bridge. On one side she has her kids to raise and they need her. And on the other side, her kids’ father and the love of her life has a 99.9% chance that wherever he is he’s in agony and imprisonment - because if he was at all okay and free he would have found his way home by now. So as Michonne, how do you live with that? Especially when your souls are as interconnected as Richonne’s.

She can feel him out there desperately needing her. She can feel her kids needing their dad. She had to go after him. And honestly, Rick knows if he were in her shoes he would have absolutely made the choice to go after her too.

In fact, I low-key feel like if Rick was on that boat like Michonne in TWD 10.13 and the roles were reversed where Michonne disappeared and Rick found signs that she was alive out there, Rick would have got on the walkie with Judith and his little girl wouldn’t need to do any convincing to get Rick to go after Michonne. Rick would just be straight-up telling his daughter, 'Hey Judith, I found out mom might be alive and I’m already en route to Bridgers Terminal to bring her home to us so...

The choice to be away from her kids was not at all an easy one for Michonne to make and was rooted in deep love and loyalty to Rick and to her kids. So for Rick to frame it as anything else was just plain wrong.

But again, hearing Michonne say she only feels safe with him a few seconds earlier it’s like Rick is trying to deliberately destroy being her safe space so that she can officially feel better about leaving him and going home.

We’ve always praised Rick for being willing to do anything and take out anyone to protect his family but what’s so interesting about TOWL is that we see Rick is willing to even take out himself and break her heart and his own to protect her. 🥺

gif cred: @nat111love

In this gym, Rick is basically attempting to unalive himself again. 😥 I think that's even what his contorted expression was about when Michonne pushed him. Michonne's entrance into his life has made him come alive but he’s convinced he must be ‘dead’ for her to live. So he's doing whatever he can to try and stay dead - such as saying something this upsetting to the love of his life.

It’s a real conundrum because even back when he was Alive Rick, Michonne was the one who made him feel most alive so now that he thinks he has to be dead it’s especially complicated to be back with the brightest and most igniting light in his life - his wife. And I like how they explore the really dark effects of doing what Rick’s grandpa said and being the walking dead.

However, in his warped mindset, what Rick can’t quite see is that trying to take himself out rn and turn off his humanity is killing Michonne too. 🥺

They’re too interconnected for him to try and take himself out this way and it not take her out in a way too. But I do like how Andy plays this moment like the words taste horrible in Rick’s mouth as he goes against his very design and actively tries to hurt her.

Michonne fervently tells Rick he doesn’t know anything anymore - which it’s def seeming that way more and more. And then she smiles with tears filling her eyes and says, “So, this is who you are now? Big guy, huh. Solider of the CRM. You’re moving up right? That’s the plan.” She's letting Rick know he has an unnatural allegiance to losers, that's not like him.

I like how of course Michonne picked up on the fact that Rick was soon gonna be moving up the ranks. And it’s so sad cuz in ep 1, Rick literally seemed disgusted at the idea of moving up the ranks of the CRM but he’s lost a lot of that defiance now.

Also, it’s really interesting to me that this is when Michonne starts addressing the CRM stuff. Because I feel like before she was always trying to rightfully bring the conversation back to their family but Rick was always deflecting back to the CRM. So now she’s just like okay since that’s all you can talk about, let’s talk about it since this is the clique you claim despite saying you don’t.

gif cred: @figmentof

Michonne says, “Maybe I should be afraid of you in the red uniforms. I don’t know what you’re capable of.” And I was like - Rick, come on, this has got to be a wake-up call knowing your wife even has to remotely entertain the thought of needing to be afraid of you. 😥

But the way he’s looking at her it’s clear the wall he has up is pretty strong right now.

gif cred: @kris-lulu

Then while it pains my heart so much, I always love the way Michonne says, “You lied to me. You keep lying to me.” Like you just feel everything she’s feeling. Exceptionally acted. 👏🏽

gif cred: @kris-lulu

And then if I was fully feeling the emotion when she expresses her hurt over Rick continually lying to her when they’re the two people most meant to be honest with each other, I really really feel the emotion leap off the screen when Michonne says, “You think I’m not beating myself up for not being with my kids right now? That I’m not wondering how I’ll ever live with myself if God forbid….” Oof. 😣🥺💔

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Y’all, this was an outstanding performance, and when I tell you these lines reverberated in my brain for days. It was so moving and so heartbreaking. Like even watching it now for the hundredth time I’m choking up. 😭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Michonne is a mother. An excellent and devoted mother. A mother who has been through so so much and more than anyone should have to endure. And she’s done it all for the love of her family. A large reason she’s even standing in front of Rick right now is because she loves her kids and they need their father.

Like don’t get me wrong she wanted to find Rick for her and for him, but we saw that convo in her final TWD ep between her and her daughter. Judith had to urge her to go because Michonne was hesitant to leave her babies.

And since setting off to find Rick, Michonne has tried so hard to keep the faith despite the exhaustion and the hardship and now here this man is making her feel like she made a bad choice when she is already wrestling with the difficult decision she had to make as a mother.

Like the fact that she says she’s been beating herself up. Cue my tears. 😭 And the fact that she doesn't know the current status of her son and daughter and she can’t even bring herself to voice the potential outcome of something bad having happened to them while she’s been gone. 😢

Especially knowing that in the past when Michonne had left home for a far briefer time than this, she returned to find she had lost a son not once but twice. It's too much. 😞💔

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Michonne is very aware of the power of words and she doesn’t use them lightly. She doesn’t even like to vocalize painful outcomes like when she thought she lost Rick in Say Yes and couldn't say aloud that she thought he died. Both then and here, she trails off and shakes her head not even wanting to put those tragic scenarios in words.

It’s like how in that deleted season 7 finale scene (that will always be canon to me since it’s the only time Rick and Michonne and Carl really engage after Richonne became an official couple) Michonne encourages Carl to not fantasize about failing because she’s built this great resolve to not even give negative outcomes power in thoughts or words.

I’m so glad Michonne got to let all that emotion out in this gym and be this raw and expressive as a woman and as a mother. This is Michonne at her most vulnerable, speaking about one of the most personal and sensitive things in the world - her children and her feelings and fears as a mom.

You’d think surely this time Rick would have a non-zombified reaction to seeing her pain and how deeply he hurt Michonne here. Like before when he’d been hurtful, Michonne hadn’t yet even cried like this so maybe this would finally be the wake-up call.

...But no. 😪

Instead, Rick just looks at her and grimly says, “That’s why you should go.” To which I always respond...

That's my instinctual response every time cuz like how can you not roundhouse kick your screen when hearing Rick say this? 😒

And y’all, let me tell you, Michonne is my big sister in my head lol, and I promise you I would have been in my full Solange energy up in this building with Rick. Like, don’t let me be in any of these elevators with them because I’m scrapping for my sister. 🥊

Rick responding like that had me wondering how much more audacity does this man have left because my goodness it seemed endless. This was genuinely painful to watch.

It would be hard enough to see Rick emotionally abandon Michonne on any subject, but when she is specifically expressing raw emotions about their kids as the mother of his children, and he still has a cold distant response - blood boiling, tbh. 😠

And also him saying she should go was extra frustrating because 🗣Michonne was going. She was standing right at the exit of this building when Rick came running for her. So telling her she should go was not only hurtful but unnecessary. 😒

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Michonne responds like it’s really sinking in that whoever this is in front of her is not someone she knows.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

So she gathers herself after being fully emotionally abandoned by Rick and then she says, “Okay. I don’t know who you are. Cause the man I knew would never talk to me like that ever.” Gospel. Rick 'Loverboy & Family Man of the Year Every Year' Grimes would never be so disrespectful.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

It’s interesting that Michonne doesn’t say 'I don’t know who you are anymore' like she'd said previously. Now it’s almost like she’s saying 'I don’t know who you are at all.'

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And once again, Rick masks the pain inside with a steely-eyed sorta lifeless stare at her and it’s just tragic.

gif cred: @clonecaptains

They hear walkers trying to get in and so Rick says, “We’re getting out of here.” And Michonne nods in a way that feels like she’s had to just surrender the hope of them ever figuring this out. Like as Rick grabs things to help with the escape, Michonne has such a sad sense of surrender over this whole hurtful situation.

She just poured her entire heart out to him about something she feels most vulnerable about - her kids - and for the first time was met with nothing back from Rick. Yet another sign that something is seriously broken within Rick because every other time she’s emotionally expressed herself to him he’s always handled her heart with care and met her where she’s at, like going to Washington and fighting the Saviors.

Michonne grabs one of those pole things and the way she slowly walks over to join Rick at the door it’s like now she has to put a wall up too because Rick has become adamant about not being her safe space anymore. You just can fully sense how devastating it is that even after finally reuniting with the love of her life, she still feels alone. 💔

gif cred: @taiturner

This whole thing was such a brilliantly acted scene from Danai and Andy. 👏🏽 Like truly these world-class actors were continually confirming that they are powerhouses of the craft with this whole miniseries. 🔥

This gym scene is simultaneously riveting and a hard-watch because of how much visceral pain is infused within it. 🥺

So after Richonne’s most gut-wrenching moment of conflict to date, I remember one of my many thoughts was now how the heck does this episode have an S rating because ain’t no way Michonne lets The Bold As Hell man near her like that after all this. 🙃

But Danai is a sagacious writer and so the following adrenaline-pumping events on a stairwell help force Richonne back together in a very sweet way. And the timing of the following events couldn't have been better, cuz lord knows we and Richonne needed something to turn the tide after this heartbreaking gym scene. ❤️‍🩹👌🏽

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.04 #RIR (33)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months

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Reassurances

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: Luca's fellow S.W.A.T. members tease him for dating someone who is younger and out of his league. Though he knows they mean well, sometimes he needs your reassurances.

Warnings: brief angst, insecurities, teasing, fluffy comfort!!

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

A/N: Luca deserves all the love!!! He gives the best hugs in the world, I just know it. (Sorry if he's OOC, this is my first time writing for him, but I will be adding him to my character list if anyone has more requests for him!)

“Luca! Your daught- sorry, your girlfriend’s here, cradle robber!” Rocker calls when he sees you.

“Knock it off, Rocker,” Hondo replies, turning to Luca to add, “The brainwashed model is here.”

“Guys,” Deacon chides. “Take it easy.”

“Thank you, Deac,” you say, waving as you walk past them to the situation room.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” Luca asks, pulling you into a hug.

“Just wanted to see you. I was in the neighborhood,” you answer, practically melting at Luca's touch.

“You’re sure everything’s okay?” he checks, pulling back to look at your face.

Smiling as you look into his icy blue eyes, you nod.

“Oh, I got you something while I was out this morning,” you remember. “Want it now or later?”

Luca’s gaze flits over your shoulder, looking at his team and a few members of 50-David not so inconspicuously watching you. “Later sounds good.”

“Luca,” you say quietly, “you know they’re just teasing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Forcing a smile back on his face, Luca returns his full attention to you. “What else do you have planned today?”

“Not much. I’m probably gonna go sit at your house and wait for you to get home.”

Luca chews the inside of his bottom lip, debating if he should tell you that you can do whatever you want and that you don’t have to make special trips to see him.

“Hey,” you say, tapping his chest. “I want to see you. But if you’re busy, that’s fine.”

“No, ‘s not that, just…”

“Luca, I want to.”

Luca nods, his eyes and smile dropping as you approach him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeeze him tightly.

“Okay, I get it,” he says through a laugh, tapping your back.

“I’ll see you tonight, then?” you ask, tilting your chin to catch his eyes.

“See you tonight,” he assures, rubbing between your shoulder blades.

As you exit S.W.A.T. HQ, you’re glad Rocker left already. 20-David’s teasing is clearly all in good fun, but Rocker always takes it too far, instilling doubts in Luca. You will never grow tired of reminding him that you love him, want him, and will choose him over and over for the rest of your life, but sometimes you want to put the other S.W.A.T. members in their place.

✯✯✯✯✯

While you get comfortable at Luca’s house, he counts the minutes until he can pull you into his arms again.

“Big plans tonight?” Deacon asks.

“Just a night in,” Luca answers.

“Only option at your age, isn’t it?” Street jokes.

Luca doesn’t reply, and Street looks at Tan. The rest of 20-David shake their heads at each other, acknowledging that they took it a step too far.

“Luca, I didn’t-“ Street begins.

“It’s good,” Luca answers, closing his locker. “See you tomorrow, guys.”

“Bye, Luca,” Deacon calls. He turns toward Hondo, who shrugs.

“We may need to lay off him for a few days,” Hondo suggests.

“Trouble in paradise?” Rocker asks as he enters the locker room. “She remember there’s guys who don’t need to early bird discount?”

When no one replies, Rocker raises his head and asks, “Is he okay?”

“We don’t know,” Street answers, looking at Luca’s locker. “But he has to be. If he’s not, it’s our fault.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The door opens, and you rush to greet Luca, wrapping your arms around him as he closes the door. You know something is wrong when his arms don’t immediately circle you.

“Luca,” you say softly, pushing your fingers through his hair, disturbing the gel he put in it this morning. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, his shoulders lowered and drawn toward each other.

“Do you want to sit with me for a while? I, for one, could use some good company.”

“You could get better company,” Luca whispers.

Sighing, you wrap your hands around Luca’s arm, leading him to the couch. After you push him to sit, you turn toward the kitchen to get him a drink, but his hand leaps up and catches your wrist. The questioning look in his eye, like he thinks you are leaving him, is enough to break your heart. Kneeling before the couch, you raise your hands to Luca’s cheeks.

“Look at me?” you request.

When he lifts his tired, glassy eyes to you, you silence. You’re not immune to insecurities - no one really is - but seeing Luca questioning you and your relationship like this is especially painful.

“You’re all I’ll ever want,” you promise. “I will choose you, Luca, every single day.”

Luca shakes his head, and you gently press your hands against his cheeks as you comfort him.

“You wanna know something about me?” Luca’s gaze raises back to your face, and you say, “I could marry you right now.”

Sniffling, Luca leans closer to you. Moving your hands down to either side of his neck, you lean between his knees, pressing your weight into the couch.

“The guys,” Luca begins, taking a shaky breath. “I know they’re just teasing, but they’re right about so much, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Tell me what you think they’re right about.”

“You’re too young for me, way out of my league… You could do better than me.”

“Can I ask a question, and promise not to take it the wrong way?”

Luca shrugs, and you crack a small smile.

“You have to at least say you’ll try,” you add.

“I’ll try.”

“Why’s it bothering you so much today? Some days you roll with the punches, and joke with them. Today was different, though. Did something change?”

Dropping his chin, Luca presses his face against your arm beside his jaw.

“It’s me, right?” you ask. “You realized you’re in way better shape than me, that this whole time you’ve been out of my league.”

“What?” Luca mumbles against your forearm.

“I mean, you work out all the time for work, chasing down bad guys and jumping out of helicopters. You got tired of my joints cracking every time I stand up, right?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Luca says with a chuckle.

“Exactly.”

Luca shakes his head, and you wipe a stray tear from his cheek. You stand, keeping your hands on him as a tangible promise that you’re not going anywhere. Luca looks up at you from the couch, following your movement.

“I mean it,” you reiterate, “I could marry you right now. Dressed like this, and that’s saying a lot.”

Dressed in a stretched-out t-shirt that once belonged to Luca and your favorite, comfiest bottoms, you hope you’re getting your point across.

“How are you not tired of me yet?” Luca asks. “We have this conversation too often.”

“I don’t mind telling you how I feel. Luca, I love you, and I will scream it from the rooftops… maybe not this rooftop because you moved to a neighborhood filled with known gangs.”

You sigh as Luca finally returns your hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing a hand under your shirt to press against your back.

“Tell me,” you murmur.

“I know you love me,” he answers. Moving his hand further up your spine, he adds, “And I love you.”

You smile, turning to sit beside Luca. He leans against you, his eyes stuck to yours as he smiles.

“Don’t ever listen to Rocker, he’s an idiot. I don’t know how he got married before you.”

“Maybe he’s the one that brainwashed somebody.”

Chuckling, you agree with Luca before remembering the surprise you got him. Moving out from underneath him, you disappear into the guest bedroom, and when you reemerge, Luca is watching for you.

“It’s not much,” you begin, “but I got you this.”

Luca pulls you back onto the couch before extending his hand. You lay the small package in his palm, turning to watch him open it.

As Luca removes the paper hiding the gift, you realize you are the lucky one in this relationship regardless of what he thinks about who is out of whose league.

Luca moves his hand to catch the two toys that fall toward his lap. Turning them over, he smiles as he looks at the diecast cars.

“Is this supposed to be Black Betty?” he asks, raising the vintage Hot Wheels S.W.A.T. van.

“I saw it and thought of you. Like I said it’s not much, but-“

“It’s perfect,” Luca interjects. “You’re perfect.”

Leaning toward him, you take the van from his hand so he can examine the matching police car.

“You deserve nice things, Luca,” you remind him. “And you deserve to be happy with whoever you want, no matter what your team says.”

Luca nods, setting the cars on the table before pulling you into his arms. He doesn’t always have the words to say, but his actions and everything he does for you show you that he loves you and wants you, even when thinking he doesn’t deserve you.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into S.W.A.T. HQ the next week, after receiving a less-than-informative text from Luca, you cross your fingers that any teasing he encounters won’t push him as far as last time.

“Somebody get a chair lift for Luca! He needs to get to another level before she realizes she left him behind!” Street yells when he sees you.

Luca hears the commotion as Tan and Hondo join in on the teasing and rushes out to meet you. He hugs you, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you toward the situation room.

“What’s it like dating someone who’s so far out of your league?” Rocker asks, a teasing smile on his face.

“At least we have standards and didn’t scrape the bottom of the dating barrel,” Luca replies, “but that’s more of your thing, right?”

Rocker’s jaw drops, and you press your lips together to stifle a laugh. 20-David, however, doesn’t try to hide their amusement, turning their teasing to Rocker as they follow him out of the ring.

“That was unexpected,” you say, smiling as Luca continues walking again.

“Still want to marry me?”

“Of course,” you answer without hesitation. “Wait, right now?”

Luca raises his brows, smiling as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Not what I meant, but why not? You’re all I’ll ever want.”

Luca cups your jaw, and you whisper, “Reassurances are my job.”

#dominique luca x reader #dominique luca #swat cbs #requests #fem!reader

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jujusjunk · 2 months

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Hello I am from jumblr and I saw the post about you you wanting to speak to Jews/israelis and I’m so glad you’re unlearning hate in the same way that I began doing so many years ago (just the opposite way). I want you to know that people have also called me a traitor to my people for denouncing IDF war crimes and advocating for Palestinian liberation, right of return, and acknowledging the Nakba. But what those people don’t understand is that loving your people doesn’t mean not also loving other people. Sometimes loving your people *is* loving other people as well, in order to seek mutual peace, freedom and liberation, that are inherently linked to one another. I pray for nothing but peace and happiness and freedom for you and your family. I think Jews and Palestinians are cousins and I’m in despair that things happened and are happening the way they are. I hope we can build a brighter future together.

Hiii, it’s nice to meet you. Honestly we’re so much more alike than we think. We’ve both been through too much shit not to be friends and we’re pinned against each other.

In these situations I always go back to one of my favorite ever songs, “where’s the love” by the black eyed peas and it’s this verse

I love this song and have always loved this song.

If anyone hasn’t said this to you in a while, then im going to. I’m proud of you. For treating me like a human, for not thinking of me as someone less worthy, for standing up for my people, for genuinely giving me a chance to be human. Thank you.

I hope a bridge can one day be built between us, if not for us then for our children, I don’t want my children to live in fear and surrounded by hate because of where I come from and I’m sure you don’t want that either which is why it’s our job to make sure we provide a better life and future for them.

Sending you all the love in the world and hugs and kisses from Lebanon. 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

#palestinian jewish solidarity #Palestine #Israel #ask

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theslushiestnoob · 1 month

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American Boy (pt. 4)

Word count: 2.5k

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I woke up to the shrill sound of my phone ringing, vibrating rhythmically on my bedside table.

‘Hello?’ I say, my voice low and disoriented from the grogginess of the morning.

‘Hey, y/n,’ Hamzah's voice makes my heart flutter. I sit up, shaking my head in an attempt to dispel my tiredness.

‘Mm, Hamzah, hello, yes, what’s up?’ I stammer, running a hand over my face. I hear a soft chuckle from the other end of the phone, and can almost hear the smile in his voice.

‘I wanted to ask what you wanted to do today. Martin texted me earlier and said that Mandy’s working the whole day and he’s going out to lunch with some school friends. So, it’s just me and you.’ His voice went quiet as he said the last sentence.

‘Oh, uh, I don’t mind, really. I’m not fussy. You pick, I’m up for anything,’

Hamzah is silent for a moment, assumedly pondering our day’s plan.

‘There's a coffee shop near me, it opened up recently and I’ve been wanting to try it out. We could go there?’

‘Sounds great to me,’

‘Last night…’ I start, Hamzah’s gaze darkening as he looks at me, ‘Thank you for saving me.’

Hamzah shook his head as I stared down into my mug.

‘That guy was a dick, y/n, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with him. I hated seeing you that uncomfortable.’

The memory of the moment pushes to the forefront of my mind, feeling Hamzah’s soft lips on my bare skin. The kiss he had pressed to my collarbone had been possessive, to ward the man off, but also distinctly gentle. I remember the effect his proximity had on me, how searing heat rushed into my cheeks as I felt his curls brush against the delicate skin on my neck.

I feel compelled to change the subject, to tear my mind away from the memory.

‘You’re wearing your glasses,’ I point out, gesturing to his face.

‘Well, you did say they were cute,’ He smiles brightly at me, his entire face wrinkling with the motion.

I feel a blush rising into my cheeks as I shake my head and look down to my mug.

‘Oh God, look out of the window,’ Hamzah interrupts, looking behind my head. I swivel in my chair and see the torrential downpour outside.

I can’t help but laugh as I whip out my phone to check the weather.

‘And it’s only going to get heavier over the next hour,’

‘Man, I am so glad I suggested we walk here,’ Hamzah deadpans.

I giggle in response, acknowledging the absurdity of the situation. ‘We should leave, before it gets any worse,’

‘Agreed.’

I follow Hamzah to the door, where he lingers for a moment. He turns toward me, a mischievous smile lighting up his face. ‘Are you ready?’

I nod playfully as Hamzah pushes the door open.

‘Jesus Christ!’ He exclaims, his face immediately drenched as he steps onto the street.

I laugh as I feel the shock of the cold droplets against my skin, and Hamzah spins to look at me. His face is also lit up with laughter, his eyes almost fully closed from squinting.

‘Hurry up!’ He yells, grabbing my wrist and taking off down the street. He pulls me down the pavement, his warm hand slipping into mine for a better grip as we run. The heavy rain pelts us, blurring my vision until all that is guiding me is Hamzah’s firm grip.

Our boisterous laughter echoes off of the buildings as we run through the streets, back home.

‘I am absolutely drenched,’ I complain as Hamzah shuts the door behind us. Tiny droplets of rain gathered in his thick eyelashes, and streaks of water run down his face. His hair is soaked through, his curls weighed down and plastered across his forehead. He shakes his head to rid himself of the excess water, and I squeal as I am splashed by the droplets. Hamzah’s unrestrained laughter rings through the house.

Two small ginger cats bound up to us in greeting, chirping inquisitively.

‘Oh, meet Red and Blue,’

‘Hamzah, how did I not know that you had cats? They are the most adorable things!’ I exclaim, crouching down to let them sniff me.

Hamzah smiles at me in response, watching as the cats purr in response to my touch.

‘I’m going to change. Do you want some spare clothes?’ Hamzah says, scratching the back of his neck.

‘Please, yes. Anything’s fine,’ I respond, giving him a thankful look.

He turns the corner, and I hear a door click open and closed as he enters his bedroom. A few moments later, he reemerges with an armful of clothes.

‘Here, it's the smallest pair of sweatpants I own and a shirt. You can change in my room, I’ll, uh, give you some privacy,’ he says nervously, handing me the haphazardly-folded clothes. I smile at him, and enter his bedroom as he holds the door open for me.

His room is very bright, with white walls and bedsheets. A rain-spattered loft window allows light into the room, illuminating the small space. I strip myself of my sodden clothes, folding them gingerly in a pile. I put on Hamzah’s sweatpants and tie the drawstring in a tight bow before pulling on his shirt. It falls far past my hips, engulfing my body in its largeness. I can’t help but laugh as I catch sight of myself in the mirror, running my hands through my hair in an attempt to detangle it.

I turn to the door and pull it open, stepping back out into the apartment.

‘Oh!’ I exclaim, as I walk in to see Hamzah shirtless. His head snapped toward me, and he froze. His arms are half pulled into a t- shirt, his blue tartan pyjama bottoms pulled low on his hips.

‘I’m so sorry!’ I say, turning away from him and shielding my eyes.

Hamzah laughs quietly, saying ‘it’s alright, don’t worry about it,’

I stood with my hands over my eyes, waiting for him to tell me to remove them, when I feel him sidle up next to me. He closes his hands over mine and lowers them back down to my sides, smiling at me softly.

‘I’m decent again, look,’ He says, gesturing to his shirt. I giggle, our hands lingering enclasped together.

‘I was thinking we could play videogames or something, if you’d like. It’ll kill some time before the rain stops,’ Hamzah suggests, looking intently into my eyes.

‘That sounds like fun,’ I say, wiggling my brows at him. He smiles, looking down at our hands. He freezes for a moment, before jerking his hands from my grasp.

‘Sorry, I… uh, do you wanna play Stardew Valley?’ He says nervously, avoiding my gaze.

‘We need to get some strawberries for the farm, I think,’ I say, leaning forward on the sofa toward the TV, my legs folded beneath me. Hamzah sat beside me, leaning back comfortably with his legs sprawing out in front of him.

‘Girl, lean back, I can hardly see the screen,’ he says, placing a hand on my shoulder and pushing me back toward the sofa. I fall back, landing mere inches from him. Our shoulders touch, and I feel the familiar jolt I get when he is close to me. I cross my legs underneath me, my knee pressing against his thigh. A cat jumps up to sit beside us, burrowing into the plush blanket draped across the sofa.

I return my attention to the screen to see Hamzah’s character approaching mine. He is holding sunflower above his head, which he gifts to my character.

I turn to Hamzah, a sweet smile on my face.

‘Thank you, Hamzah. You’re too cute,’ I say, before I realise what I had said. Hamzah blushes, redness rising into his cheeks as he chuckles.

We play for a while longer, farming and completing achievements. It is surprisingly natural, being here in Hamzah’s house, cuddled up next to him, playing videogames with him. It is comfortable, and leaves me imagining other displays of domesticity with him.

As Hamzah shifts to get up from the sofa, I reach for my phone. The screen lights up, and I see a notification.

Mandy’s iPhone 34m ago

toronto_tour_vlog_with_friends.mov

I turn around to see Hamzah reading the notification over my shoulder, his mouth pouted in an unreadable expression. He momentarily meets my eyes, before looking back to the screen. I click on the notification, Mandy’s familiar face appearing on the small screen. I scroll past the video to the comments section, my eyes widening as I read them.

Comments 213:

user_113: queen Mandy and her jesters have a new addition to the court?

user_9567: Boy is this a soft launch 😭

user_244: GUYS PLS ARE HAMZAH AND Y/N DATING?

user_628: the mukbang is giving double date lmfao

user_098: i’m so jealous of y/n wtf

I quickly switch off my phone, shoving it under my leg to hide it.

I can feel Hamzah’s piercing gaze on the back of my head. I turn to face him and see his attempt to conceal his smirk, hiding his mouth with his hand. He looks away and leans back into the sofa, casting his arm along the back of it. He fixes his eyes on the screen, his face still lit up in a smirk.

I laugh at his feeble attempt to hide his pleasure.

‘What’s funny?’ He asks, looking at me quizzically.

‘You, trying to pretend you aren’t smiling,’ I say, raising my eyebrows and returning his smile.

He scoffs and shakes his head, returning his hand to cover his mouth.

‘Do you wanna watch the video?’ He asks, changing the subject. He flicks the TV onto YouTube, putting on the vlog.

The video starts with our familiar voices, and we both settle into the sofa to watch.

‘Oh my God, it’s so weird watching myself,’ I say, resting my head in my hands.

‘I know, right? It never gets less weird, either. It’s painful to edit videos,’

‘I…’ my sentence trails off as a familiar scene comes onto the screen. The aquarium.

Hamzah is standing in front of the glass, and I come up to stand next to him. From a third-person perspective, the look he gives me is unbearably intense. The lingering eye contact makes my heart pound as I remember the moment. Mandy edited the clip so that it cuts off just before Hamzah walks away, and resumes with us in the restaurant. The clip was fleeting, but the comments showed that it bore a lot of speculation.

I turn to Hamzah, my mouth agape as I grapple for something to say to him. He turns to me and gently cocks his head, smiling softly to himself.

‘Well, won’t you look at the time. I… I should go,’ I stand up, the small cat sat beside me stirring from his slumber from the sudden movement.

‘Are you sure? You don’t have to,’ Hamzah says, standing up to face me.

I begin to search around, grabbing my phone and shoving it into the pockets of my borrowed trousers.

I look up at him, his face half shrouded in shadow, his eyes fixed on mine with a stomach-churning intensity. He steps toward me, and gingerly places his hands on the curve of my hips. He throws his head back, his face tilted toward the ceiling and his eyes pressed closed, and swallows. His body language screams that he is restrained, inhibited, nervous, but his firm grip on my body contradicts that.

My eyes trail down his exposed neck, the light scruff of stubble along his jaw to his prominent adam’s apple. His gaze dips to my lips as he places a firm hand on my jaw, tilting my head up to his. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest as my eyes flutter closed, my lips parting. He leans further into me, so that there are mere centimetres between our faces. His soft curls brush against my forehead, and I feel his trembling breath on my face.

‘Hamzah…’ I whisper tentatively.

I open my eyes and look at him through my lashes, registering his pained expression. I scrunch my eyebrows in question, not understanding his apprehension.

‘What are we doing?’ He whispers, his gaze accusatory and piercing.

‘What?’

He takes a step back and turns away from me, dropping his head into his hands.

‘I’m sorry…I’m not going to do this if it’s not a serious thing. I… I don’t want to ruin this.’

‘Hamzah…’ I start, stepping toward him and placing a hand on his arm. He brushes it off and paces further away from me.

‘You’re just going to leave, y/n. In like, a few weeks. Then what?’ He turns to face me, his face pained and eyes glassy.

I open my mouth to defend myself, but I can’t muster any words. Ultimately, he had only told the truth. I was going to leave, eventually, and what would that do to the two of us if we started something?

‘I can’t let myself fall for you if you’re not going to stay.’ He says, his voice cracking. He averts his gaze, unable to look at me.

I am silent for a moment, unable to process his words. ‘I don’t know what to say, Hamzah,’

‘Just… we have to stop doing… this.’ he says, gesturing between us.

‘Doing what, Hamzah? We can’t hang out anymore?’ I ask, stepping toward him.

‘No, that’s not what I mean…’ he groans frustratedly.

He turns to face me again. His wide eyes roving over my face. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but closes it as he decides against it.

In a single stride, he closes the distance between us. He places a hand on the back of my neck, pulling my face towards his. His eyes dip to my mouth as he pulls me into him, our lips colliding forcefully in a sudden kiss. He inhales sharply as he pulls me tighter against him, his eyes scrunched closed. His soft lips move against mine, making my head swim. I curve my body into his and throw my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. He kisses me like a man starved, and I am the only thing capable of satiating his hunger. Our repressed desire mingled with the intensity of our mutual longing, resulting in reckless passion.

He pulls away, his breathing laboured, but his eyes remain closed.

‘Just once. I had to do that just once.’

I try to catch my breath, Hamzah’s face lingering just above mine. He runs a hand through my loose hair and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. He pulls away and looks at me, folding his arms across his chest.

‘I…uh, I should go,’ I say, tucking my hair behind my ears and looking around self-consciously.

‘Let me drive you,’

‘No, no, I’ll be fine. Thank you, though,’ Hamzah sighs at my refusal, but makes no protestations as I grab my still-damp coat from the back of the sofa and start toward the door. He reaches around me to open the door for me, his smile strained and tinged with sadness.

‘Goodnight, y/n,’

‘Goodnight, Hamzah,’ I step out into the chilly night air, closing the door firmly behind me.

#slushy noobz #4freakshow #hamzah fic #hamzah fluff #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #martin and hamzah #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzah angst #fanfic

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suffersinfandom · 10 months

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Alright, I’m gonna talk about Ed and abuse.

“Why? Why are you spending your precious time on Earth typing about some dumb fandom stuff when you could be doing literally anything else?”

In short, seeing the “Ed is an abuser who’s inevitably going to hurt Stede” takes has been driving me absolutely bonkers since I first noticed them. They’re not going away, so I have to essay about it.

In less-short: it’s because abuse is a serious thing and, as someone who’s experienced it, I get riled when it becomes a topic of discourse in my silly pirate fandom. It’s because it’s upsetting to read meta after meta accusing an indigenous man of being an abuser when the text doesn't support that reading. It’s because a lot of the abuse discourse in the fandom fails to separate real-life abuse from violence in a show. It’s because the vast majority of the abuse talk only acknowledges physical abuse which, while terrible, is not the only kind that hurts people and utterly destroys their lives.

It’s because calling Ed abusive or insisting that he’s a future abuser can harm people who are like him -- people who have suffered abuse or get angry sometimes or have hurt people when they were hurt. Victims of abuse, especially those who dealt with it in childhood, often fear becoming abusers themselves. They bottle up their anger for fear of hurting someone. They hurt themselves in a misguided attempt to protect others. They don’t need to see meta that enforces their fears.

Before I get into it…

I may as well come clean and say that I’m on team Ed absolutely isn’t abusive.

Plenty has been typed in Ed’s defense by POC in the fandom, so I’m not going to go into how deeply unfortunate it would be to make an indigenous main character an abuser. I’m just going to say that, when you consider OFMD’s genre and attitude towards violence, it seems clear to me that you can’t call Ed abusive without calling out other characters unless you have some kind of bias against Ed. His actions are deplorable in the real world, a bit much in OFMD’s world, deeply unhealthy, not okay by any means, and shitty and traumatizing for his crew, but they aren’t abusive.

Remember: Our Flag Means Death is a comedy with tons of over-the-top violence. If your theory is unrelentingly grim or looks at violence and its consequences in a real-world light, consider stepping back and remembering what genre the events of the show are happening in.

And if you think that only the violence committed by the indigenous lead is abuse, look at the actions of the other characters and ask yourself why Ed doesn’t get the same grace you’ve granted the others.

What is abuse in the real world?

Abuse “includes [a pattern of] behaviors that physically harm, intimidate, manipulate, or control a partner or otherwise force them to behave in ways they don’t want to. This can happen through physical violence, threats, emotional abuse, or financial control.” (1)

“Emotional abuse includes non-physical behaviors that are meant to control, isolate, or frighten someone. These behaviors are often more subtle and hard to identify but are just as serious as other types of abuse.” (2)

It’s important to emphasize that not all purposeful harm to another person, physical or otherwise, is abuse. “What abuse really means is control. When a truly abusive situation exists, it’s because one party is seeking to control the other through abuse.” (2)

Abuse is a pattern of behavior that involves one person intentionally harming another. That harm is meant to control, and it can take on more forms than just physical.

In our world, all abuse is terrible. Vitally, our world is not a pirate rom-com.

Adding context: what is abuse in Our Flag Means Death?

Our Flag Means Death is a romantic comedy with one core romantic couple, Ed and Stede, whose story takes priority over everything else. It can be dark, it can be serious, but it is, at its core, a comedy, and not a subtle one at that. (3) Sometimes things are just funny and that’s it.

The show’s meanings aren’t hidden under layers of red herrings and subtext; if you’re compelled to bring out the conspiracy corkboard, you’re probably in too deep.

But this isn’t just a rom-com: it’s a pirate rom-com, and that comes with gratuitous violence. Here’s a short, fun list of examples of things that we can consider canon-typical pirate violence:

Tying hostages to the mast and letting them cook a bit

Wanton murder during a raid (“Note the gusto!”)

Threatening a crush at gunpoint until they stab you

Whippies and yardies

Cutting off toes and feeding them to people “for a laugh”

Literally any violence directed at a racist (this violence is, in fact, good and encouraged)

There’s also the pirate-typical killing of other pirates. Duels don’t seem entirely unusual, and Izzy outright tries to get Stede killed at several points in season one. When Chauncey Badminton and the English navy show up after being summoned by Izzy, Stede’s life isn’t the only one on the line: the rest of the crew is also put in potentially life-threatening danger.

In short, Our Flag Means Death has a lot of violence and peril, and very few instances of violence (looking at you, Hornigold) are treated as anything other than socially acceptable. But do you know what’s really important in the show?

Feelings.

The way characters feel as a result of something is given an immense amount of weight. The show’s subtleties are in the realms of the mental and the emotional, and that’s where the real pain is too.

Nigel Badminton’s death was bad because it was emotionally and mentally devastating for Stede. Ed’s father’s murder was bad because it hurt him and forced him to create a monstrous alter ego to cope. Both of those men -- Nigel and Father Teach -- are totally acceptable casualties. Their deaths would be net positives (in this universe where abusers are punished for their behavior) if they hadn’t had such strong impacts on our leads.

Feelings are everything in Our Flag Means Death, and the feelings of our leads are the heart of the show. That’s where the story is. That’s where the complexity and ambiguity is.

So what is abuse in this context? The casual treatment of physical violence and the seriousness of emotional distress tell us to adjust our own moral judgments accordingly. Physical violence is everyday, straightforward, and often comedic; emotional violence is devastating and complicated. Physical violence is cartoonish and, often, part of a punchline. Emotional violence is real and raw and not a joking matter. Planning to murder a guy and steal his identity can be shrugged off; ditching your boyfriend after experiencing a traumatic event is more complicated.

When we ask ourselves if something in OFMD is abuse, we have to consider the act in the context of a rom-com that’s all about the feelings of two guys, set against the violent backdrop of piracy, and absolutely packed with people getting maimed and murdered in casual, comedic ways.

So...

Is Ed abusive in the context of the show?

No.

Aaaand we’re done!

Joking, joking. Obviously I’m going to pick out the examples of “abuse” that people cite and discuss each one, but first: we need to talk about Ed, violence, and anger.

Ed is not a violent person. He’s not full of rage that’s threatening to erupt at all times, and he’s not some kind of sadist who revels in hurting people. The violence of Blackbeard is a fuckery: it's the theater of fear, an illusion of cruelty calculated to terrify others into surrendering and obeying without (much) bloodshed.

Ed has his whole thing with murder that's rooted in childhood trauma. Killing his abusive father to protect his mother scars him so badly that he distances himself from the situation -- he blames Father Teach’s death on the Kraken, an invented monster. As a pirate, he creates loopholes and rules that technically put one step between him and killing (in his mind). He orders murders and causes deaths and maims and maintains his image as the bloodthirsty Blackbeard, but Ed doesn’t do “the big job” himself until the end of season two. When Stede’s life is in the balance, Ed can kill to protect him.

Edward Teach kills only to protect.

But that’s killing, and we’re talking about general violence. It's true that Ed is casual about the day-to-day violence of piracy. He participates in it, incites it, and doesn’t feel bad about it. No one does; violence is part of the job.

That leaves us with the "anger problem." Ed is sometimes characterized as an angry person who lashes out when enraged, and canon doesn't at all support this interpretation. Ed gets mad, yes, but his anger is always at least understandable (and, in my opinion, he's one of our more restrained characters). It isn’t a constant, simmering thing that turns him into an abusive monster when he’s triggered. He doesn't always deal with his anger -- or any of his other feelings -- in a good and constructive way because both of our leads lack emotional maturity, but I think it's a grave mistake to characterize him as an angry person.

Hopefully I can elaborate on this idea -- the idea that Ed is only violent and angry in a normal and canon-appropriate way, and anger is by no means one of his defining characteristics -- by doing a run-down of all of the times Ed is accused of being abusive or showing signs of being an abuser-in-the-making.

---

Ed loses his shit on a falling snake during his nature adventure with Stede (S1E7). In this scene, he’s embarrassed about the treasure hunt, oblivious to Stede's intentions, and annoyed by the very existence of nature. He is not relaxed. When nature takes him by surprise, he stabs the crap out of it in a scene that is played for comedy. There’s the important part: this is comedy. Ed is grumpy and his childish tantrum is harmless and silly. It isn’t a red flag. Overreacting while irritated isn’t an indicator that someone will be abusive.

Ed punches Izzy after the English have taken the Revenge, captured Stede, and turned Ed over to Izzy (S1E9). Honestly, I think the fact that Ed lets Izzy talk before punching him demonstrates a great deal of restraint on his part. This is justified anger and fear for Stede’s life. This is not an indicator that Ed makes a habit of hitting Izzy.

In his post-pillow fort era, Ed is cleaning up his cabin when Izzy confronts him (S1E10). Izzy insults Ed, tells him that he’d be better off dead than as he currently is, and says that he serves only Blackbeard (Ed better watch his fucking step). Ed reacts by grabbing Izzy by the throat and telling him to choose his next words carefully. This is, in my opinion, a reasonable reaction and exactly the response Izzy was fishing for. The only pattern this scene indicates is one where Izzy goads Ed until he starts performing the violence expected of Blackbeard.

Which takes us to The Toe Scene.

In real life, it would be extremely fucked up for a boss to remove an employee’s toe and make him eat it. OFMD is not real life. One episode earlier, Ed was talking about the life he was glad to leave behind -- the life where The Toe Thing was done “for a laugh.” Not as punishment, but for fun. It’s set up as something that’s gross (“yuck”), not a grave punishment. When Ed feeds Izzy his toe, he gives Izzy what be asked for: he gives him a violent captain. He gives him Blackbeard. He gives him the guy who fed people toes for fun.

But what’s important here is that Ed is not having fun. He’s having a lot less fun than Izzy is, going by their expressions in the scene. This isn’t who he wants to be, but after having the possibility of a better life snatched away, Ed throws himself back into the sure thing. He becomes the Kraken -- the captain Izzy wants, the violent monster that Ed thinks he is and tries to distance himself from, and the only thing Ed thinks he can be. It’s sad. It’s desperation, not anger and abuse.

In the second season, Ed headbutts Stede after he’s revived from his coma-death (S2E4). In the next scene, Stede is holding a cold steak to his face and calling it an accident. Roach says “that’s what they all say” -- a line that alludes to domestic violence. The thing is? It’s not, and the crew has expectations of Ed that Stede doesn’t (as indicated by Stede's earlier assertion that Ed's a nice guy in response to Olu's concern that Ed will kill him).

Ed is freshly out of a coma (or newly alive). He’s nonverbal. His brain is, medically speaking, couscous. He still has one foot in the gravy basket. When he sees the man who left him hovering over him -- the man he loves, the man who just appeared to him as a mermaid -- he tries to say something. When that fails, he resorts to a headbutt. This is a single violent action perpetrated by a confused and hurt man who doesn’t know what to do with all of his feelings. He can't talk. He can't push Stede away.

Stede understands all of this, even if the other characters don’t. He sees the headbutt for what it is: a bit of a bitchy move. He isn’t afraid of Ed. He never is.

Stede also isn’t afraid of Ed when he acts out later that episode. When Ed learns that Stede went back to Mary, he excuses himself from the dinner table, smashes a chair against the wall, and knocks a vase to the ground. In this entire episode (this entire season), Ed is having intense feelings that he doesn’t know how to express or work through. The reveal that Stede returned to his wife is the final straw. He takes his tangled feelings out on an acceptable target (a chair, a vase) instead of Stede because he doesn’t want to hurt Stede.

This looks like displacement -- when “an unacceptable feeling or thought about a person, place or thing is redirected towards a safer target.” Displacement is an “intermediate level coping mechanism.” That is, it’s more sophisticated than the ways children deal with intense issues, but it’s still not entirely mature. In an adult, it indicates a level of emotional immaturity. (4) Ed is emotionally immature, not inherently violent. He gets overwhelmed by his feelings and lashes out -- not at a person, but at something that can’t get hurt.

Displacement is not an indicator that someone is an abuser. It’s a coping mechanism. It’s an attempt at emotional regulation. It’s not the best coping mechanism, but it’s not a sign that someone is going to go into a rage and assault people.

Stede cringes when Ed smashes the chair and sends the vase crashing to the ground, but he’s not afraid of Ed. He is never afraid of Ed because he knows that Ed isn’t a real threat to him. He cringes because sometimes that's what a person does when a loud thing happens. That's what people do when chair shrapnel starts flying. Also? It's kind of embarrassing behavior on Ed's part. They're guests enjoying a mediocre dinner! That's no way to act!

And this leaves us with the first two episodes of season two.

Ed is fully in his Kraken era. He has no hope that Stede will return, he no longer trusts the crew, and he feels trapped in a life he absolutely doesn’t want. He thinks that he has to perform Blackbeard until death sets him free. He sobs in his cabin when no one’s looking. Publicly, Ed fades into the role of remorseless and bloodthirsty pirate captain.

Needless to say, this makes for a shit work environment. Ed works the crew (and himself) too hard. He drinks and does drugs (note that his drug of choice is rhino horn -- visually coded as cocaine -- instead of alcohol, the drug associated with his father) and runs everyone ragged. He’s an absolutely terrible boss, but he isn’t abusive.

That isn’t to say that the crew left on the Revenge isn’t traumatized. They are! They’ve been thrown off balance by the sudden change for the worse in someone who was previously a pretty cool guy, and they’re traumatized by the neverending violence that the constant raids -- raids that are bloody and deadly, not the fuckeries of the past -- demand of them. They’re traumatized by that final night in the storm when Ed does everything in his power to goad them into killing him, almost murdering everyone in the process. They’re traumatized by their own attempt at murder and their own capacities for violence.

In S2E4, Blackbeard’s crew has flashbacks to the violence they perpetrated under the Kraken: Jim fighting Archie, Fang breaking a man over his knee. They’re haunted by guilt about what they did to Ed, as evidenced by their Lady Macbeth-style scrubbing. Their own violence is a significant part of their trauma.

No, that doesn’t absolve Ed. He drove the violence -- demanded it of both the crew and himself. He hurt other people because he was hurting, and that’s terrible.

Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes of season two is horrible, especially when his desperation reaches a fever pitch, but there's no attempt to control and no habitual mistreatment. Nothing he's doing is normal for him. He's spiraling and unraveling and pulling the world apart around him. Not all bad or violent behavior is abuse.

(We also have to ask ourselves just how bad Ed’s behavior really is. Archie, someone from the pirate world who has no idea what the Revenge was like pre-Kraken, tells Jim “that’s how these things usually go” at the height of Ed’s violence. She doesn’t act like she experienced anything out of the ordinary.)

But what about Izzy?

What about Izzy indeed. Let’s walk through the first two episodes.

One of the first things we see Ed do in season two is shoot a man. At first this seems like the show telling us that Ed is embracing the kind of violence he couldn’t manage before, but if we pay attention, we can see that he’s still following his “not a murderer on a technicality” logic. The man he shoots has a sword through his chest; he's as good as dead. He also falls offscreen before Ed shoots, making the action less impactful.

OFMD is not subtle and this is a quick way to communicate what’s going on with Ed. He’s not doing well and he’s more violent than he was last season, but he’s still himself under the Kraken’s makeup. He hasn’t done a moral one-eighty. If the show wanted us to think that Ed's a monster, they would have made him a hell of a lot more violent.

So. Izzy.

Immediately after Ed tells Izzy that he’s replaceable in S2E1, we reach the scene that some point to as proof of domestic violence. This is where Izzy breaks down because he has just been told in no uncertain terms that he’s not Blackbeard’s special little guy. That’s devastating to him, and he cries when the crew approaches him with kindness and sympathy.

Jim tells Izzy he’s in an unhealthy relationship with Blackbeard. Frenchie describes their relationship as “toxic.”

A toxic relationship is “any relationship [between people who] don’t support each other, where there’s conflict and one seeks to undermine the other, where there’s competition, where there’s disrespect and a lack of cohesiveness." (5) And you know what? Yes, Ed and Izzy definitely have a toxic relationship. And is their relationship unhealthy? It sure is -- for both of them. But the crew is, understandably, more sympathetic towards Izzy because they’ve never been present when Izzy was hurting Ed.

(Only tangentially related, but the crew must have really liked Ed pre-Kraken. As far as they know, the man went dark with no warning or cause. They deal with him for approximately three months (assuming one raid a day), and he has to go so far before they put an end to him. Remember when they were ready to toss Izzy overboard after, like, twelve hours under his command?)

Even though they only have one side of the Izzy and Ed story, the crew isn’t accusing Ed of domestic abuse. The term doesn’t apply to the mutually fucked-up thing that Izzy and Ed have and, beyond that, the scene is played for laughs. Jim and Frenchie use comically modern language. The whole thing feels like an intervention for a stressed-out middle manager with a shitty boss. It's funny. It's a comical thing in a comedy show.

Izzy returns to Ed and tells him that the crew won’t throw treasure overboard to make room for more treasure. Ed says, “And that’s another toe.” Losing a toe is the penalty for failing the kind of captain that Izzy said he will serve. It’s obviously not okay to punish an underling by taking toes, but we’ve already established that toe-removal isn’t a cruel and unusual pirate punishment.

(Specifically, toe-chopping is the cost of Izzy’s failure. Frenchie disobeys and lies to Ed in his short time as first mate and he doesn’t lose a single toe. Izzy bears the brunt of Ed’s cruelty because he’s the one who demanded it.)

This is not who Ed wants to be, but it’s who he thinks he has to be. It’s who Izzy told him to be.

Next, Izzy makes the mistake of invoking Stede and Ed storms above deck. He holds the crew at gunpoint, one by one, and asks them if they think that the vibes on the ship are poisonous. No one gives him a positive answer and Ed turns the gun on himself. He works himself up until Izzy interrupts and the following exchange happens:

IZZY: “The atmosphere on this ship is fucked. Everyone knows why.” ED: “Well, I don’t. Enlighten me.” IZZY: “Your feelings for Stede fucking Bo--”

[Ed shoots Izzy in the leg. Ed steps over him on his way back to his cabin.]

ED: “Throw this shit overboard and get suited up.”

The fucked up vibe is not because of Ed's feelings for Stede. Ed's feelings for Stede resulted in Ed having a nineties-rom-com-style breakdown and proposing a talent show. The Kraken and the ensuing fucked atmosphere were ushered in by Izzy.

Izzy is only shot after he proposes talking it through (something he attacked Ed for in S1E10) and publicly places all of the blame on Ed's feelings (feelings that he previously threatened Ed about -- Izzy owes his loyalty to Blackbeard, not a "namby pamby in a silk gown pining for his boyfriend" who would be better off dead). Whatever Izzy's intentions are, it's not irrational for Ed to interpret this as a further threat or an attempt to stir up a mutiny.

What’s important for this post is this: Ed's actions are not unusually cruel for a pirate captain who considers his first mate out of line. Shooting someone in the leg is the kind of thing that the idea of Blackbeard that Izzy worships does to maintain his reputation.

Fang cries when Ed shoots Izzy because he knows Blackbeard. He has been with Blackbeard longer than anyone else, and this isn’t Blackbeard. Blackbeard doesn’t work his crew this hard. Blackbeard doesn’t disregard the deaths of long-time crewmates like Ivan. Blackbeard doesn’t shoot his own crew. Fang is off-balance and distraught because his captain of twenty years is acting far, far more cruel than the one he knew.

This is not Ed as he usually is. Ed at his worst is breaking all of his past patterns. He’s behaving like a different person. His actions at this point in time are not typical of his past actions or predicative of his future actions.

When we reach S2E2, Ed is chipper. He’s cleaning up, he’s tying up loose ends, and he has decided that, no matter what, this is the day that he dies. He’s determined. First, he’ll give Izzy a go at killing him; next is the storm, the destruction of the steering wheel, and taking increasingly desperate actions to get the crew to stop him. He tells Jim and Archie to fight to the death. He goes to blow the mast away with a cannon and doesn’t react as nameless crew members are being washed overboard.

Ed is stopped only by Izzy’s reappearance and the violent mutiny that follows.

None of what Ed does here is abuse. This is desperate violence. This is an unwell man begging everyone around him to send him to doggy heaven.

And finally, we have the big murder party in the season finale. A surprising number of fans interpret Ed’s willingness to cut down naval officers as a sure sign that he’s gotten worse and he’s more violent than ever. This is, in my opinion, a take that completely ignores everything we know about Ed and his relationship to violence.

It bears repeating: Edward Teach kills only to protect. He murders his father to protect his mother. He kills as Blackbeard to protect himself (and no matter how he tries to distance himself from that violence, he still causes deaths). He mows down colonists for Stede. He kills for safety and for love, and by the end of season two, he has made some kind of peace with the Kraken and his own capacity for violence.

It’s sweet. It wouldn’t be sweet in the real world, but in this world? In a world where physical violence is funny more often than it’s serious? In a world full of pirate characters who all have hefty body counts? It’s growth. It’s Ed healing.

Ed is doing better. He’s not a threat to the man he loves, and now he’s not a threat to himself either.

Anyway.

No, Ed is not abusive. No, there’s no indication that Ed will become abusive in the future.

Dislike characters. Take issue with things. Feel whatever you want to feel, but remember that abuse survivors are not a monolith. Consider, just for a moment, that the abuse you think you see in the show is not textual. Ask yourself if Ed is truly worse than all of the other characters or if you have some bias warping your view of him.

Finally: please keep in mind that I’m not trying to present The One True Interpretation. I’m just rolling all of my arguments and thoughts into a ball and throwing it out into the wild. You don’t have to agree with me but, if you don’t, I hope you’ll at least consider what I'm saying.

Peace and love and goodbye.

#ofmd #ofmd meta #edward teach #long meta #like too fucking long #abuse #tw abuse #cw abuse #me typing things #fandom critical #kinda?

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xxspringmelodyxx · 4 months

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That Girl’s A Liar~

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Here is part II my lovelies! Thank you all for the support and I hope you enjoy! <333 | Part I |

"One of these days, you’re going to get yourself really hurt, Toru! You need to be more careful," I scolded the white-haired boy. I wrapped the bandage around his upper arm, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than getting distracted by his shirtless body.

Earlier that day, Satoru and Suguru had been dispatched to exorcize a particularly nasty cursed spirit that had been terrorizing a nearby town. The mission was supposed to be straightforward, but things quickly took a turn for the worse. The cursed spirit, more powerful than initially anticipated, had launched a ferocious attack. In the ensuing battle, Satoru had been injured, his arm nearly severed by a brutal strike. Despite the pain, he managed to defeat the curse with Suguru's help, but not without sustaining significant injuries.

Back at the school, I waited anxiously for their return. When I saw Satoru limping back with Suguru supporting him, my heart sank. Shoko immediately took Suguru to another room to tend to his injuries, leaving me to care for Satoru.

“Relax, Y/N. Tis but a scratch. It’ll take a lot more than that to truly hurt me!” he said with a cocky smile, his confidence radiating as usual. I looked at him with a deadpan expression, unimpressed by his bravado.

“This is not just a scratch, you idiot! Your arm was almost cut off from that curse!” I retorted, my voice filled with frustration and worry.

“Still, nothing can stop me. I’m literally the strongest sorcerer here in our high school. Probably of all time, too,” he boasted, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation.

“Toru, for the last time, I don’t care if you are the strongest sorcerer in the world! You are still a human being, not some indestructible weapon! You could still... never mind,” I started, trailing off as my mind filled with the horrifying image of him getting severely hurt, even to the point of death.

Toru’s smirk quickly disappeared as he noticed the bright blue skies outside the window getting covered by dark clouds. He looked at me with genuine concern, fully aware that the sudden weather change was my doing, a manifestation of my emotional turmoil. I was losing control of my cursed technique.

“Hey…” he said, his voice softening. He placed his uninjured hand on my arm, snapping me out of my dark thoughts.

“I’m going to be okay, Y/N. You know that, right? I’m gonna be here for a long, long time,” he said, trying to reassure me. His attempt to comfort me only made my brows furrow deeper.

“That’s the thing, Toru. You don’t know that. And if you keep acting like nothing can stop or hurt you, you are going to eventually be met with a bad fate,” I said, clipping the wrap around his arm with a finality that echoed my worries.

“I… I just don’t want to see you hurt, okay?” I added, turning around to put everything away. My voice softened, betraying the depth of my feelings and the fear that gnawed at me every time he recklessly threw himself into danger.

Toru sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I get it, Y/N. I really do. It's just... this is who I am. Protecting people, fighting curses—it's what I'm meant to do. But I promise you, I'll be more careful from now on," he said, his tone earnest.

I sighed. "You better. Because if you keep scaring me like this, I might just have to find a way to tie you down and keep you safe myself," I said with a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'd like to see you try," he teased. Toru felt his body warm up as he absorbed my words. Did you really care about him that much? The thought seemed to surprise him, stirring something deep within him that he hadn’t fully acknowledged before. Maybe, just maybe, you possibly felt something for him as well? Or did you mean it as a friend? These types of questions pondered his mind as you continued to put the medical supplies away.

“Okay, that should do it. Now let's get out of here before Utahime sees us,” I said, turning around to face him. As I did, I realized how close we were to each other, our faces only inches apart. The sudden proximity made my breath catch in my throat, and I could see the same surprise reflected in his eyes.

We both instantly tensed up, the proximity catching us off guard. The air between us felt charged, a silent tension simmering just below the surface. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and my heart began to race.

I quickly pulled away from him, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. “S-Sorry. I-I didn’t—” I stammered, struggling to find the right words to diffuse the awkwardness. My mind raced, trying to process the unexpected closeness and what it might mean.

“No, don’t be,” he interrupted, his voice softer, trying to compose himself. He reached out and gently touched my arm, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. “I, uh, didn’t mind,” he added, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic vulnerability that took me by surprise.

Now all that was left was an awkward silence between us, the unspoken tension hanging heavily in the air. We both stood there, not knowing what to say next, the moment stretching out longer than it should have. Thankfully, a miracle happened when Suguru walked in, his presence breaking the silence and startling both Toru and me.

“Hey, you two. Shoko and I were thinking about going out for dinner tonight. You two are coming with us. I don’t care what you say. Shoko has been on my case all week saying how we need to all hang out,” Suguru said, instantly sensing the tension between us. He noticed how red Satoru had gotten, causing him to smirk.

“Well… I’ll just be waiting outside for you two when you’re ready,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Just as he began to leave, he turned to face Satoru, giving him a knowing wink.

Toru just flipped him off, trying to ignore the rapid pace of his heartbeat. “That guy,” he muttered, shaking his head, but there was no real malice in his tone.

I chuckled, grateful for Suguru’s impeccable timing. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice, huh?” I said, trying to ease the lingering awkwardness. My heart was still pounding from the earlier closeness, but I tried to act normal.

“Nope. But maybe it’ll be fun,” Toru replied, a hint of his usual confidence returning. He ran a hand through his hair, still looking a bit flustered. “Let’s get going before they come back and drag us out,” he added, offering a small, somewhat shy smile.

As we made our way outside, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. The unexpected closeness with Toru had stirred something in me. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he felt the same.

“So, dinner, huh? Any idea where they’re planning to go?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light and avoid the tension that still lingered.

“No clue, but knowing Suguru, it’ll be somewhere decent,” Toru replied, his voice a bit more relaxed. He glanced at me, his eyes searching mine for a moment. “You okay? You seem… a bit off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said quickly, hoping to sound convincing. “Just a lot on my mind, I guess. And, you know, you scared me today with that injury.”

Toru’s expression softened, and he reached out to touch my arm again, this time more deliberately. “I’m sorry about that. I promise I’ll be more careful. I don’t like seeing you worried,” he said, his voice sincere.

“I appreciate that, Toru. Just… take care of yourself, okay? I need my study partner with me at all times.” I joked, feeling a strange mix of relief and lingering tension.

He chuckled and nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before we continued walking.

*****

Dinner with Suguru and Shoko turned out to be more fun than I had expected. The restaurant was a cozy place near the edge of town, known for its delicious ramen and lively atmosphere. The walls were adorned with colorful posters and fairy lights, giving the place a warm, welcoming vibe. The inviting aroma of rich broth and sizzling dishes filled the air as we walked in. Shoko was already there, waiting for us at a corner table, waving enthusiastically as soon as she spotted us.

“Hey, you two lovebirds!” she teased, her grin wide and mischievous. Both Toru and I blushed furiously, glancing at each other awkwardly.

“Cut it out, Shoko,” Toru grumbled, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. Despite his annoyance, there was a playful edge to his voice that made me smile.

As we settled in, the conversation flowed easily. Suguru recounted a hilarious story about one of their recent missions, complete with exaggerated impressions and wild gestures. Shoko chimed in with her dry wit, and soon, we were all laughing.

Despite the light-hearted atmosphere, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Toru. His laughter was infectious, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled, and every time he laughed, my heart seemed to flutter a little more. I wondered if he noticed the way I looked at him, or if he felt the same way.

At one point, Toru caught me staring and our eyes locked for a moment longer than usual. I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up. Did he know what I was feeling? Did he feel it too?

“You okay?” Toru asked, his voice soft and concerned. He leaned in slightly, his presence calming yet thrilling.

“Yeah, just thinking,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “This place is really nice. Thanks for bringing us here, Shoko.”

“Anytime,” Shoko said with a wink. “I knew we all needed a break. Plus, watching you two dance around each other is the best entertainment.”

“Shoko!” I exclaimed, my face growing even hotter.

“Well, it’s true,” Suguru added with a smirk. “You two have been acting strange ever since we got here. Just saying.”

Toru cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Alright, enough of that. Let’s just enjoy the food, okay?”

We all laughed, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. As the night wore on, the laughter and camaraderie made me feel more at ease.

Midway through the meal, I excused myself to go to the restroom. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to steady my racing heart. Why was it so hard to just tell him how I felt? Every time I thought I had the courage, something held me back. Maybe it was fear of rejection, or perhaps the worry that it would change everything between us.

When I returned to the table, I saw Aksana entering the restaurant. She was hard to miss with her striking blond hair and confident stride. As soon as she spotted us, her eyes lit up, and she made a beeline for our table, her gaze zeroing in on Toru.

“Hey, Satoru!” she greeted, her voice overly sweet and completely ignoring the rest of us.

“Aksana,” he acknowledged her with a nod. His usually bright eyes seemed a touch colder, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was annoyed by her sudden appearance.

“Mind if I join you guys?” she asked, not waiting for a response before pulling up a chair next to Toru. She slid into the seat, her proximity to him making my stomach churn.

Suguru and Shoko exchanged glances, sensing the tension immediately. Suguru raised an eyebrow at me, while Shoko gave a small, sympathetic smile. I tried to focus on my food, but Aksana’s presence made it difficult. She leaned in close to Toru, laughing at his jokes in an exaggerated manner and touching his arm whenever she got the chance.

“So, Toru, I heard you had a pretty intense mission today,” Aksana said, her voice dripping with false concern. “You must be exhausted. Maybe I could help you relax later?”

Toru shifted uncomfortably, clearly not enjoying the attention. “I’m fine, really,” he replied, trying to gently brush her off. “Just needed some time with my friends.”

“Oh, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed you for a bit,” she insisted, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Right, Y/n?”

I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Actually, Aksana, we were in the middle of something. Maybe another time?”

Aksana’s eyes flicked to me with what seemed to be disgust, her smile faltering for a split second before she regained her composure. “Oh, of course. I just thought Satoru might like a change of company.”

Suguru, sensing the rising tension, decided to step in. “Actually, we’re all having a really good time together. It’s been a while since we all hung out like this.”

Shoko nodded in agreement, adding, “Yeah, I’ve been wanting us all to hang out again, so tonight seemed like a good night to do so.”

Aksana’s smile was tight, clearly masking her irritation. “Oh, well then, don’t mind me. I’ll just be sitting here, listening to your stories.” Her tone was overly sweet, but the fake smile gave her away.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. The food was delicious, and the conversation lively, but Aksana’s presence cast a shadow over the fun. She kept trying to insert herself into our conversations, making pointed comments and giving Toru lingering looks. I even almost lost control of my cursed technique because she kept hugging his arm. And by that I mean the winds started to pick up like crazy outside, causing the doors to blow open, which startled a lot of people. Shoko thankfully brought me back to my senses, but it was still so aggravating to see Aksana practically throw herself on Toru. By the time we left the restaurant, I was feeling more confused and frustrated than ever.

Toru walked me home, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. The night air was cool, and I could feel the tension building with every step. Finally, we reached my doorstep. I turned to him, searching for the right words to express my feelings.

“Toru, I…” I began, my voice trailing off as I looked into his deep blue eyes.

“Yeah?” he prompted, his gaze fixed on mine, full of curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place.

Before I could continue, my phone buzzed with a message from Kai. He needed help with the science project again.

Damnit, I forgot we needed to start working on that.

I recalled the scene vividly, etched into my memory like a photograph frozen in time. The classroom hummed with nervousness as Mr. Takahashi dropped the bombshell: a major science project due at the end of the semester…two months away.

—flashback—

“Y/n, you’ll be partnered with Kai,” Sensei Takahashi announced, gesturing towards Kai who was grinning nervously.

Kai’s eyes met mine briefly, and I could sense his relief mixed with a tinge of apprehension. “Looks like it’s you and me,” I said, offering a reassuring smile to calm his nerves.

“Yeah, for the next four months,” Kai replied, his voice tinged with what seemed to be disappointment. I looked towards him and found his eyes looking at someone else. I followed his gaze and saw him staring at another girl in our class, Amai, his expression softening with admiration.

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly as I noticed Kai's subtle admiration for Amai. It was clear that he had a crush on her, which I thought was adorable.

"W-What?" he stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught.

"Nothing, just thinking," I replied casually, suppressing a smile as I reached for a pencil and paper.

"Now, let's start brainstorming some ideas. What do you think we should do our project over?" I initiated, launching into a discussion about potential topics. Despite the distraction of Kai's crush, we delved into a detailed exchange of ideas, weighing the pros and cons of each suggestion.

—end of flashback—

I sighed, feeling torn between my responsibilities and my emotions. This moment was slipping away, just like so many others.

“Never mind,” I said, forcing a smile to hide my disappointment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Toru nodded, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes that mirrored my own feelings. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

As I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if I had just spoken up. Would he have understood? Would it have changed anything? The weight of my unspoken feelings pressed heavily on my heart. I turned and went inside, trying to shake off the lingering frustration.

That night, as I lay in bed, my mind replayed the evening’s events over and over. Aksana’s blatant attempts to get Toru’s attention, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at me, and the unspoken words that hung between us. It was all too much to process, and sleep came slowly.

*****

The next day at school, I was determined to talk to Toru, to finally clear the air between us. The tension that we had yesterday had been gnawing at me all night, and I couldn't bear another day of uncertainty. I spotted him near his locker, and with a deep breath, I began to make my way over.

As I approached, I noticed Aksana was already there, her laughter echoing through the hallway.

”Oh Toru, you’re really a great guy!” She praised, spotting me in the distance. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she continued to talk to him.

“You know, I actually need help with my homework and I was wondering if you could help me with it now since we have some free time?” She asked. As Toru was about to answer, he spotted you in the corner of his eye and turned towards you, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips, making my heart flutter with anticipation.

I smiled back and quickened my pace, but just as I was about to reach him, Kai stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Y/N, I need to talk to you about something," Kai said urgently, his voice low. Toru's smile faded slightly as he noticed the interruption.

"Well, actually Kai, I'm kind of in the middle of something important," I replied, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.

"Please, Y/N. It’s about Amai," Kai insisted, his eyes pleading. He leaned in closer, ensuring our conversation remained private. "I need your help."

Confusion flickered across my face as I looked up at him. Meanwhile, Toru's eyes narrowed, a twinge of jealousy evident as he watched us.

"What's going on, Kai?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite the awkward timing.

Kai glanced around nervously before speaking. "I want to ask Amai to the dance, but I have no idea how to do it. I need your help to get to know her better."

I smiled softly at him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Toru's jaw clenched subtly at the sight. "Kai, the dance is still a while away. You have plenty of time to get to know her," I said, trying to calm his nerves.

"But that's the problem. I'm so nervous around her. I need someone to be there when I talk to her. Please, be my wingman," Kai pleaded, his desperation clear. He grabbed my hands, his earnestness almost palpable.

Toru's gaze darkened at the intimate gesture, his jealousy simmering just below the surface. I nodded towards Kai, deciding to help him after I got talk to Toru.

"Okay, I'll help you," I said, squeezing Kai's hands briefly before pulling away. "But wait here for a moment, I need to handle something first."

Before I could take another step, I saw Aksana grab Toru’s arm, her voice still bright and cheerful. “So, Toru, about that homework…” she trailed off, leading him away. My heart clenched slightly as I watched them walk off together.

"Y/N? Is everything alright?" Kai asked, his concern evident.

I sighed, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over me. "Yeah, let's just go," I replied, my voice heavy with frustration. The chance to clear things up with Toru had slipped away again.

*****

"Wait, I need to talk to—" Toru started, quickly removing Aksana's hand from his arm. He turned around, his eyes searching for me, but he was too late. I was already walking away with Kai.

"Are you alright, Toru? You seem tense," Aksana asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed the change in Toru's demeanor.

Toru forced a smile, trying to mask his frustration. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking about some stuff," he replied vaguely, his gaze lingering where I had disappeared with Kai. The sight of me with someone else stirred a mix of regret and irritation within him.

Aksana's eyes followed his, her brow furrowing slightly. "Is everything okay between you two?" she asked gently, her voice soft. Aksana knew what she was doing. She feigned concern, but inside, she relished the friction between us. It was her chance to step in and take my place.

Toru hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's... complicated," he admitted reluctantly, his thoughts still consumed by my departure with Kai. The unresolved tension gnawed at him, leaving him unsettled.

Aksana nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here," she offered, placing a hand on his arm. He quickly removed it, the touch making him uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Aksana," he said, forcing a polite smile. His mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of you, and the conversation he desperately wanted to have.

“So, shall we go to that small little cafe and you can help me with the homework?” She asked.

"Sorry…I gotta go," he added abruptly, his voice strained. Leaving Aksana behind, he walked away, his emotions in turmoil. He needed to clear his head and find a way to resolve the growing tension between you two.

Aksana huffed as she watched the white haired boy leave her alone in the school hallway. She tapped her foot, folding her arms together as if she were in thought.

“Looks like I need to play harder…”

____________

Part III coming soon!

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rafecameronsslxt · 1 year

Text

Shame

Soft!Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: The people of France take your relationship with your husband to be described as loss of affection, but when you confront Vincent he becomes angry at you. Vincent takes his time to apologize with sex.

Warnings: SMUT, dry humping, p in v, fem receiving, and arguing.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Masterlist

France was a heavily ill-rumoured country but had the rumours of your relationship with the newly crowned Marquis been as bad as the mass was saying? That we looked estranged and angry anytime we were out together in public, which had been rare considering John Wick was running about killing, and we had security every hour of the day, sometimes even becoming a little too invasive.

Our bedroom was remarkably dark. It was fitting and not what I had wanted, but Vincent decided I had no say. The people we paid did as he said, walls black with a pretty shade of gold, an elegant crystal chandelier, and a king-sized bed with a headboard made of the finest materials. As a natural, we also got black silk sheets that melted your body to the bed until you never wanted to get up.

Our relationship wasn’t exceedingly…estranged. Vincent never seemed to have time for you anymore. His wife couldn’t fit into his schedule, and when you tried to talk with Vincent about the situation plaguing your mind, he’d get angry and shout at you for any reason because he locks his feelings up, not daring to tell you his emotions.

Tonight you were feeling explicitly irritated at Vincent, making it more than apparent when you got ready for bed beside him in the massive bathroom, sighing, grumbling, or throwing angry glances his way that he wouldn’t acknowledge. So instead, he heads to his study like every other night.

You walked the large hall in a rose gold silk bralette and bottoms with a slit on both sides of the thigh but in a tasteful fashion. You walked in unannounced, fed up with the formalities with your own husband. His dark green eyes glanced up at you and quickly returned to the papers he was sorting out on the polished wooden desk.

Your hands massage his shoulders softly like you’d done a million times before and attempts to leave marks on his neck, but he shrugs you off quicker than expected. You try gliding your hands under his robe, feeling his bare chest. “What do you need?” Finally, Vincent says something. You sit on the papers, seeing his face turn with outrage. “I need you.” You say, needy, watching him pinch the bridge of his nose.

Vincent picks you up by your thighs and drops you to your feet by the door. He plasters a fake smile at you and opens the swarthy wooden door. “No. I’m not leaving Vincent. You never make time for me. You don’t even touch me when we sleep in the same bed!” You raise your voice at him, being the only person who can actually shout at him, but he can get louder when he wants to.

His face falters at the change in your voice, and a pout becomes a complaint on your face, lips puffed out and looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “You always have to be so ungrateful for everything. I give you anything you want, and this is how I get thanked, sweetheart!” Vincent shouts at you, backing you into the railing outside his study. You flinch at his loud words in your ears, but they don’t just stop. He keeps going. “I’m trying to protect you and figure out John Wick before things fly off the handle. Do you want to go-” He stops mid-sentence, regret palpable on his face. “You’re going to do what. Kill me? Asshole, I can’t believe you right now.” You force his hands away from you, pacing back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut in his face, but he slams it harder, echoing throughout our home.

“You always act like a child!” His voice reverberated around the room. I throw my hands in the air. “It’s always me, Vincent! If you would just tell me what’s wrong with you. I mean, I get it, baby. You're not good with feelings, but please.” You were desperate, pleading with him to give in because you couldn’t handle another argument. The tears I was holding back slipped out slowly. He motions for you to sit on his lap as he glides a hand through his unusually dishevelled hair.

Vincent’s complexion becomes soft. He kisses your plump red lips lightly and leans his forehead on yours. “I’m sorry.” You nod at his delicate words that you get to lavish in. This was almost new, a foreign feeling you’d missed. You softly grind your hips onto his. Vincent lets a deep chuckle flow into your ears. He’s got a little smile adorning his face while Vincent’s hands take off the silky bralette, but his tender lips take their time kissing your collarbone, nape of your neck (surely to leave pretty purple circles), and boobs, like he was re-remembering your body meter by meter.

His lips connect to your nipples, sucking on them and tongue running over your now extremely sensitive boobs while your hips move faster, feeling his hard-on pressing against your clit. You became so entranced at the moment that you started speaking French. “Je t’aime tellement.” You moan out into his ear. (I love you so much)

Vincent hums out in agreement with you. He stops your hips, and you look at him, confused. His green eyes had brightened with the happiness you took advantage of before he’d been crowned. “Tu m’as manqué, ma chérie.” His face was as serious as ever, and his irises had a tinge of sparkle when you hid your face in the crook of his neck. (You are missing from me, sweetheart, or I’ve missed you, sweetheart)

The spark left when he flipped your back to the silky black sheets, his fingers wrapping around the waistband of both your shorts and panties, pulling them off eagerly. Vincent’s hands run over the smooth shaved skin of your body, smelling of jasmine and lavender, along with the essential oils used to keep clear skin. He takes a deep breath and begins kissing your thighs, each delicate kiss placed until his mouth reaches where you need him the utmost.

His tongue glides up and down your slit, teasing you, but the littlest touch articulates soft whimpers falling from your parted mouth while he looks into your eyes. Two fingers slip inside of you with ease, and then his mouth sucks on your clit. Vincent had never been a soft man, nor had he ever claimed to be, but when he was, it was the best pleasure you’d ever experienced, his soft French accent rich in your ear, whispering sweet nothings and making up for the things he’s done.

His fingers pick up the pace, but not enough to be considered rough, and you were more than satisfied to be treated gently after his harshness this past week. His tongue was doing overtime because of the flicking and suctioning, and fingers moving in and out had your thighs clenching around his head, eyes rolling to the back of your head, loud moans resounding from wall-to-wall back to Vincent's ears, making him harder than he already was. You were on the edge of release when his mouth and fingers left your body, emitting a groan. You hadn’t noticed he was naked until now. His plunging v-line and defined abdomen and his thin body are surprisingly muscular too, as you’ve been manhandled more times than you could count, especially when he thrives off inflicting pain on others around him, so the soft side of him threw you off sometimes.

He kisses you passionately despite tasting yourself simultaneously, pulling you by your thighs, and you feel his tip enter you, a gasp escaping your mouth. “It’s been this long?” His sentence is terse, and you nod, arms being thrown around his broad shoulders. Then, he bottoms out in you, and with pleasure comes pain because as much as it felt good, it’d take a minute to get comfortable. He moves in and out of you slowly, but even that was hard as you had been so tight that it was a problem to move, but eventually, he got into the rhythm, which was harsher than anticipated.

Your pedicured nails scratch his back, leaving red streaks that would satisfy the damage you have done to him, to remember tonight. His calloused fingers circle your clit quickly, and you don’t think you’d last another second. “I’m coming!” Tears fall from your eyes out of pleasure, and you hear his soft whispers, but he continues to thrust into you, becoming overstimulated. You then feel his hot cum cover your velvety insides. His grunts and curses fell from his kissable plump lips that you did kiss, and he pulled out, feeling his cum drip down your thighs.

Vincent enters the bathroom and returns with a damp washcloth, cleaning you up. He softly lies beside you, his arms around your waist, leaving no room for air, but you just wanted him to be close, and he was for once. It felt euphoric to have your husband back, kissing your shoulder until your eyes fall heavy and sleep carries you peacefully.

#vincent de gramont #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard fanfiction #john wick 4 #marquis de gramont #john wick chapter 4 #soft smut #bill skarsgard x reader #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont imagine

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kararisa · 11 months

Text

darling, starling

— 5. unwritten rules — ✦ (wc: 0.4k)

You will never understand how people wake up before 10 a.m. and enjoy it. Scaramouche was your complete opposite in that regard, preferring to start his days egregiously early. But if you could help it, you'd stay in bed and sleep until the early afternoon hours, cuddled up in the warmth of your blankets.

But here you are, not comfortable in bed but instead seated on your sofa and half-heartedly watching some soap opera on the TV while you wait for the man of the hour to discuss a deal that could change both of your careers, for better or for worse.

The huge glass windows let in sunlight from the waking world, bathing the room in natural light. Scaramouche gives you a nod of acknowledgment as he sits down, a cup of way-too-bitter tea in hand. He takes off his reading glasses and leans back to look at you properly.

“You look like shit,” he greets.

You rub your eyes before glaring at him, “I wanted to catch you before you ran off to the nearby cafe to write your book. We need to actually talk about what we’re getting into in this deal.”

You take a breath before starting, “It’s not going to be easy dating me. Fake or not.”

Scaramouche’s words are dripping in sarcasm. “I know your food preferences if that’s what you're worried about.”

“That...” you groan. “That isn’t even what I mean and you know it; I’m being serious. You know how relentless the media can be when it comes to me. Rumors of us dating have been around since we were first spotted going out and about with our friends. And they’ve only gotten worse since you moved in with me.”

“I can take whatever the tabloids throw at me,” he shrugs. “Besides, my aunt works for The Akasha, remember? She has a lot of pull, not just in Sumeru.”

Is he even taking this seriously? His nonchalant air makes you think he doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation you’re getting yourselves into. He consistently interacts with his fans but maintains a respectful distance from them — you know he's capable of handling a life of fame.

But ever since you stepped onto the stage, the tabloids have followed you like a phantom — lurking in every corner and following your every move. Their eyes aren’t only set on you, though, but on every person associated with you. Scaramouche’s privacy has been invaded multiple times throughout your friendship with him, and he’s expressed his distaste for a life that's fully in the public eye in the past.

Why is he so determined to see this through?

“I doubt one editor-in-chief will be enough to influence the press,” you say.

“But she does control what stories get published,” he points out. “And if she approves articles about us being spotted together in public, it’ll be enough to get people talking.”

He has a point. Goddamn it, maybe he actually thought this through and this wasn’t just some half-assed plan he came up with at 2 a.m.

The two of you would have to set some rules, but that could come at a later date.

“Do we have a deal?” Scaramouche sticks out his hand.

“Yeah.” you take his hand and shake it. “We got a deal.”

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary:

rule number one: don't fall in love.

rule number two: no one can know about the deal.

rule number three: keep physical affection limited to the public eye. no kissing under any circumstances.

rule number four: break up after you release your album.

easy enough to remember. oh, and remember to not break the rules okay?

author's notes:

sorry for being inactive lmao i got depressed for a hot minute

nah cause why is scarayn banter so much fun to write

taglist — currently OPEN:

@aestherin @unsterblich-prinz @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @syriiina @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @fangygf @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @nillajhayne @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @ako-ang-mahal-ko @only-cherry-blossom @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @n3r0-1417 @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @mamafly @duckyyyx @certified-shrimp @kgogoma @xtobefreex @aeongiies @mechanicalbeat1 @meidnightrain @nordicbananas @feiherp @erzarq

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love-toxin · 1 year

Note

“Don’t even look at me, I’m already thinking about Leon getting in on the process-“ BITCH SPILL

NOW

ok but......hear me out <33

(cws: fem!reader, established marriage + friendship, m/m/f threeway, friends to lovers, cuckholdry(?), pregnancy sex, breeding kink, teasing, facesitting, spit + cum = lube, leon's a boob guy, this is just filth trust me)

So maybe Leon doesn't realize it until after Luis spills the beans that you're expecting. It's not until he sees you with that little curve of a bump in your belly that he thinks "How cute.....I kind of want that, too." and starts guiltily fantasizing about your baby being his. About you having a bump that he can fawn over and coo at, instead of having to watch Luis kiss your belly and touch it and manhandle you into his arms as he praises your newfound motherhood. It gets him so hard and he feels so ashamed of it he starts to distance himself from you, because far be it from him to ruin two friendships with people who actually like him.

And maybe you two notice this. You realize Leon's a lot clingier but he's also stepping away more often, and you clue in to what might be happening when Luis playfully teases bits of information out of him, like "So how do you feel about babies now, Leon? You gonna hurry it up so our kid has someone to play with?" spoken just sweetly enough that it has Leon struggling for an answer.

So you do the only rational thing in that situation: you invite him for an evening of board games and drinks (non-alcoholic for you of course) and when he sleeps over in your guest room as per usual, you and your sweetheart make things just a touch louder than usual when you fuck each other to sleep. The pillow gets taken out from behind the headboard so Leon can hear it squeak, can feel it thudding against the wall as Luis rails you like he hasn't already knocked you up good. You honestly get so lost in making a big show of it all that you genuinely lose your sense a little, and Luis gets a few deliciously sore scratches down his back as you grip him tight and beg him not to stop.

Leon's so observant, you knew he'd show up soon--just not so quietly, he would've scared the pants off Luis if he had any when he glanced over his shoulder and saw your friend standing in the room. Arms crossed over his buff chest, stare cold and stoic like you're in trouble, he's kind of scary....but that obvious bulge straining at his sleep pants proves that it's not annoyance but jealousy.

It's all kind of a blur when Luis acknowledges his presence, but doesn't even stop thrusting into you slowly--Leon's climbing into your bed in one moment and in the next he's been stripped bare, Luis' hand guiding his to rub your bump and an endless string of teasing spilling off his lips at how hot in the face he is. His palms are so warm and sweaty when he finally graces your belly, his touch almost possessive as he gets used to the feeling and sucks in a breath when he grazes the spot just below your breast.

"Maybe you can get the next one, eh?" Luis whispers into his ear, and Leon shudders both at the implication and the sight of you easing his hand higher to grope your tits properly. And he obeys like the good boy he is, using both hands to massage your chest and kneading the soft flesh like dough in a way that he doesn't even realize is so relaxing--having your boobs gain mass even so early in your pregnancy is pretty painful, and he seems to rub the right spots without even trying that makes that aching soreness a thing of the past.

And while he's distracted, Luis pulls himself away from that deliciously wet heat, and slides his fingers through your folds like a professional to get them as slick as he can--just so he can reach over and grab Leon's cock in his hand, your American hero grunting in response but not daring to let go of your tits once he's got them in his grasp. In fact, he latches his mouth on to one of them and gets in a taste while he can, all while your darling strokes him off with your own arousal and coats him from shaft to tip...with a little extra fondling involved, because c'mon, you can't blame him for getting in his licks where he can. Leon is gorgeous, and he's big enough that Luis feels the need to spit into his palm and add a little extra elbow grease to really make sure he's lubed up. All that twitching he gets out of it too definitely makes the kiss they share even hotter when Leon finally breaks his spit-slick mouth off of your boobs.

It's so cute when he finally shifts around to enter you, his thighs trembling the second Luis guides the tip towards your folds and pushes on him to part you around his swollen cock. Only now is he babbling those questions of "I-Is this okay?" and "I don't want to hurt you-" but they all get kissed off his mouth or straight up ignored, because both you and Luis moan much too loudly when Leon's sliding deeper and deeper into your guts. Earlier today you and your closest friend were exchanging jokes over a deck of cards, and mere hours later he's sweating and panting over your body as he fucks you with your husband watching. Not at all where you thought your friendship would go, but you're happy to see that you're not the only one satisfied with it.

"Luis," Leon moans in such a gentle way, yet grabs for your lover hard while he's sitting back to watch the show. Clearly he's not intent on letting him be a voyeur--he pulls the Spaniard close until he's practically pressed up against his back, and drags you down further on his cock until you're bucking and whining and leaking Luis' cum all over his thick shaft. "Watch me. Stop me if it hurts her."

He says as much, and Luis chuckles at his over-enthusiastic concern, but you can see from here that it's not the only reason he wanted him closer. With every tight thrust of his own hips, Leon rocks back to meet Luis'--and you can feel him getting even harder with your husband prodding him from behind, knocking up his pace even faster right up until Luis shifts forward with a groan and Leon halts, suddenly frozen and trembling with his eyes screwed shut.

"Oops," He chuckles into your friends ear, blowing on it softly to ease that tightness in his chest as he heaves for breath, slowly trying to relax himself enough to take it. "Just slipped in. You're a little too wet for me to resist, amor." He croons so mockingly, yet it only seems to turn Leon on more as he grinds those shaky hips into short, sharp thrusts inside you, each one propelled forward harder when Luis deigns to give him a buck that drags a pathetically high moan out of the agent's throat.

"Imagine a baby with his eyes, mija. Wouldn't that just be so cute?" He murmurs over Leon's shoulder, hands sliding up from their place on his hips to grope at his chest, darkly-coloured nipples lazily tweaked between his callused fingers like it's something he does every day. Neither man can take his eyes off your bump for too long though, Leon's literally drooling over it as saliva dribbles down his chin and splatters all over your soft, cute little belly.

"P-Promise me you'll give me a baby, Lee? After this one?" You mewl, holding up your pinky finger as an offering despite his hands being occupied with fondling your tits once again. "Hafta promise me. Say 'I wanna give you my baby', say it for me."

"I'm gonna breed you," He groans, eyes dark and lustful as he squeezes you hard enough for you to squeal. "You're gonna be a mom for me the second you pop."

"You're wild, Leon." Luis purrs over his shoulder, pecking a kiss to his neck that swiftly turns into a love bite suckled into the skin. "You can fuck my wife anytime. Right, sweetheart?"

"And my husband. Anytime." You giggle, though your adorable jubilance is soon cut off by a deeper moan as you start to hit your stride, fingers digging into the sheets below you before moving to brace against Leon's forearms. This time, when he spits, he dips his head to dribble it right on your clit and spares the thumb from his left hand to rub it right in, watching for the way your hips swivel in response so he knows just how to work his fingers into it.

"Princess likes her pussy eaten, too. Loves it. Let's try it when we're done, hm?" Luis' encouraging tone smoothes the thoughts away from your head, his voice blanketing your mind in nothing but a fuzzy haze that has you mindlessly humping every pair of hands and hips in your vicinity--you're just barely on the cusp of cumming, and a loopy grin splits your lips at the idea that Leon still doesn't know how hard you're gonna do it.

"Get on top of me, and I'll do it all damn night. Both of you."

"I-I'm heavy, Lee-"

"Don't care. I'll do it when you're full-term. You're never too heavy to sit this gorgeous pussy on my fucking face."

At that low, lusty growl of a compliment, Luis has finally met his match--you look on in awe as your husband cries out and frantically speeds up his pace, locks of dark hair sticking to his face with sweat as he pumps his last few ounces of energy into several deep, hard thrusts against Leon's backside that rock him into you and have you both crying out his name in a fit of pleasure that completely dominates your senses. Your hips jerk suddenly and he moans from his chest at how hard you're clamping down on him, but it doesn't stop his own thrusts until you're leaking and splashing him with jets of liquidy cum that totally soak him right down to his thighs. And from behind, Luis has his waist in a death grip as he spurts ropes upon ropes inside your friend, making him so slick he slides out with ease yet whines softly as his thoughts fizzle out and he mindlessly tries to push his sloppy cock back inside.

Stuck firmly in the middle, Leon's got nowhere else to go--when he cums, he drags you all the way down by the hips and forces his cock deep, pushing it snug and warm against your womb so he can spill into you relentlessly. It's as if Luis is cumming through him to add to the thick, creamy mess he leaves dripping out of your pussy, but pulling back and seeing that it's all him switches something in his brain that he had been desperate to keep locked away. Now that you've invited him into your marriage bed, however, it seems there's no better time to exercise it.

Before you can leak too much, Leon's sliding his hands under your hips and lifting you off the bed, shuffling back to lay down and incidentally splattering himself from thigh to chest with the cum he's left spilling out of you. But once he's lowered you quickly and comfortably on his face, mouth instantly sealed around the puffy lips of your cunt, there's no hurry at all and Leon blindly sucks away at the mess you three have made. And having been nudged aside, Luis clambers over Leon's body to reach his lap, eyes gentle and adoring as he watches your pretty, pregnant body writhe on the tip of his closest friend's skilled tongue.

"Oye--I don't think you can fit, caballero." He grins, reaching back to swipe up the cum between Leon's own thighs and rubbing his soaked fingers carefully inside himself. And just when he's managed to stretch himself open the smallest bit, one of those massive hands comes blindly groping down his chest, and upon reaching his hip Leon yanks it down and bucks his hips at the same time, spearing your husband so swiftly and suddenly that he braces himself against his chest in a fit of hot, stuttered gasps.

"A-And you thought it would be easy," You tease, taking hold of your husband's hands to lift him back up and kiss that dazed expression off his face.

"I think he's in my guts, mi amor--is he part horse? Dios mio-" Leon responds with another buck, this one harder and punctuated with a deep jab of his tongue into your spongy, gummy walls, and both of you are left whinging and moaning at his teasing but never quit riding him on either end. It's a different experience to rub your husband's sticky, half-soft cock while he grinds that impossibly tight ass against someone else--but with it being Leon, it feels as normal and safe as when you're doing it together. It feels right.

And as you clutch at your bump with one hand while the other clings tightly to your husband's, you let the rest of your weight sink down slowly to finally, completely relax, and both he and Leon look and feel so grateful for the gift. They both look at you like it's a blessing just to be in your presence, and to have that from two of your closest friends is just an indescribable feeling--maybe it's part of what makes this kind of intimacy feel so damn good, even while you're going through the early stages of what will certainly be a long pregnancy.

"You're going to be such a good papi," You whisper with a smile, nuzzling your nose into your husband's. "Both of you will, I know it." And from below, Leon pauses his fervent assault to lift you up and lave his tongue slowly over your clit--just enough that the warm, wet kiss he places on it lets you feel the curve of his grin against your skin before he goes right back to urging you into another hot, deep, spine-tingling orgasm.

#leon kennedy #luis serra #luis serra navarro #leon kennedy x reader #luis serra navarro x reader #leon x reader x luis #spicy writing #resident evil #re4make #resident evil 4 #ellie writes #anons

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