#but it’s also ONLY good and you don’t see conflict between the two | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginedisish · 2 months

Text

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This took way longer than expected, and I also sort of got carried away...Hope it still lives up to the requester's expectations (I also saw that the anon asked for fluff...and this ended up being fluff and smut...hope that's okay). Def some errors...I only proofread twice. This one is also inspired by "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan's kindness towards you is strictly friendly. Until it's not just friendly anymore...

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Unprotected PIV, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (uh, they're outside...), grumpy!Logan, cursing, major angst, comfort, fluff, references to canon typical violence/death/conflicts, f!reader/afab!reader (reader has hair at the nape of her neck but no description of length/texture/color), mutant!reader, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,662 my back hurts

It had been a long day. Every day was a long day. There were the kids to worry about, and then there was the rest of the world. There’s a war coming, you see it everywhere you look, and hear it everywhere you go. The news. The papers. The kids whispering in hushed echoes late at night when you’re walking the halls sleeplessly. You don’t want a war. You want a life.

The mansion is still bustling—it always is—but it’s slowly winding down. You listen as kids walk up the stairs in waves, heading into their bedrooms for the night. You know you should too, but you like it when the mansion gets quiet. You like knowing that everyone is safe, tucked away. You like it when no one else is around—when you can be alone, the stillness and quiet of a dark and sleeping house cradling you like a mother.

You find yourself in one of the living rooms, the T.V. still on, playing reruns of a cartoon you recognize from years ago. You smile as laughter erupts from down the hall, the padding of small feet echoing along the floorboards and the sound of much heavier boots following close behind.

“Hey! Watch it!” A grumpy, familiar voice shouts as kids run past the doorway to the living room, giggling mischievously. “Fucking kids.” You turn towards the sound of Logan’s voice as it bounces off the walls, his frame entering the doorway.

He has a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other as he strides over to you.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, smiling up at him. He’s in his beater and his jeans and that leather jacket that hugs him just the right way. You try not to think about how good he looks as he places the plate and the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. Friends don’t think about friends like that, and that’s all you two are: friends.

“Thought you might want a snack,” he mumbles, pointing to the cookies. “And maybe someone to talk to. You’ve got that look on your face.”

You roll your eyes, staring at him incredulously. “What look?”

“That sleepy, stressed face you make,” he starts, walking around the coffee table and taking the spot on the couch right next to you. “When you’re listening to everyone, making sure they’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for a cookie. Logan sits up and grabs the glass of milk, extending it out to you. “Really, I am,” you promise, but you know he can tell that you��re lying.

You take the glass from him, and his hand falls to your thigh. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating. He works his jaw and opens his mouth. “What’s going on—”

“Logan?” Storm cuts him off, standing in the doorway. Her gaze is focused on Logan’s hand resting on your thigh. “Did you make tea?”

His eyes flicker between you and Storm. You tilt your head, waiting for his response. “Yes,” he answers, his hand lifting from your thigh as he stands. The spot is suddenly cold. You want to grab his hand and yank him back down.

“Well, the water is about to boil,” she says, smirking as the kettle begins to whistle.

Logan mutters a quick shit under his breath as he prowls out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. Storm giggles as she watches him, shaking her head. She squints at the cookies and milk, and then at you. You nervously place the milk back down on the coffee table.

“Wow,” is all she says, her arms crossing her chest as she leans against the frame of the doorway. You can hear Logan shuffling around the kitchen, closing cabinets and cursing. “All this for you, huh?”

Your jaw drops just a bit at her words, their meaning instantly smacking you in the face. “O-oh, no,” you stutter defensively. “It’s not like that.”

The conversation quickly ends as Logan walks into the living room with a cup of tea, passing Storm and heading to the couch. He sits down next to you and places the tea in front of you. The tag of the tea bag hangs over the side of the mug, steam wafting off the top.

“You like tea, right?” He asks as you lean over and grab the warm mug in your hands. The heat feels good, but not as good as when his hand was on your thigh.

You nod, swallowing those feelings down as you blow into the cup to cool the hot liquid inside. “Thanks, Logan.” You smile, and he smiles back.

Storm is still in the doorway, a soft laugh stuck in her throat. “I’ll leave you two alone.” And before you can protest, she’s gone, her heels clicking down the hardwood floors of the hallway.

Alone now with Logan, you can’t help but feel nervous. You bring the mug to your lips and finally take a sip, the hot tea dripping down your throat. Was Storm right? No. This is just a friend looking out for a friend. There’s no deeper meaning. So what if Logan brought you cookies and milk? So what if he made tea for you? He’s just being nice, kind, caring. That’s what he always is…to you at least. Maybe only to you—

“Hey, everything okay?” Logan’s voice yanks you back to reality, his palm suddenly warm on your thigh again. You jump at the sensation, accidentally spilling tea on Logan’s hand and all over your thighs.

“Shit,” you mutter, the liquid stinging just a bit against your bare skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say, placing the cup down on the coffee table. When you look back up, Logan is gone. You can hear scuffling in the kitchen again, drawers opening and slamming closed.

“What the fuck are you doing, Logan?” Scott’s voice chastises in the distance.

Logan scoffs, his footsteps echoing against the tile floors. “Fuck off, Summers,” he chides, and you can’t help but laugh at their bickering.

“Think that’s funny?” Logan teases, suddenly in front of you. He rushes over, kneeling next to you. He has a towel in his hand. “You okay?” He asks. “Anything hurt?”

You shake your head from side to side. “Nope, all good,” you say, grinning, ready for him to pass you the towel. But he doesn’t—he’s cleaning you up himself.

He rubs the towel gently across your thighs, sopping up all the tea. His touch is soft and careful. You can feel heat rise to your chest at the closeness—the intimacy of it all. You take a deep breath, struggling to calm your heart as he takes his time taking care of you.

“You sure you’re alright?” He whispers, his eyes suddenly searching yours. The towel hikes up a bit further, the tip brushing against the hem of your shorts. You’re dizzied by his touch, by the comforting way he smiles up at you as he lets the towel fall to the side. Both of his hands are on you now, one on each thigh. His thumbs brush soft shapes into your skin.

Just friends, you say to yourself. Just friends just friends just—

“Hey gu—oh,” Bobby stutters, standing in the doorway with Peter. “S-sorry to interrupt. We didn’t mean to—”

“What do you two want?” Logan cuts him off, his hands slipping off your thighs as he stands to face the boys. You can hear the gruff annoyance in this voice. “No privacy in this goddamn mansion,” he mutters under his breath so low you almost don’t hear it.

“Charles told us to come get you, Logan,” Bobby continues nervously. “He has to talk to you about something.”

Logan groans, irritated as ever. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be there in a second.”

Bobby and Peter nod, too nervous to say anything else, and walk away. Logan is still standing in the same spot. You can tell he’s thinking, contemplating something.

“You better go,” you say, cocking your head towards the hall. “Can’t keep the professor waiting,” you joke. You watch as the corner of his mouth twitches up. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of turning his frown into a smile.

He turns his body so that he’s completely facing you. His throat bobs as his hands curl into fists at his sides. He looks like he’s holding back, resisting—but what? You can’t quite tell.

“Logan?” Charles’ voice calls from down the hall.

“I wanna see that plate clean when I get back,” Logan finally says, pointing to the cookies.

You let out a laugh as he walks to the doorway. “Yes sir,” you pledge, hand on your heart. His smile widens, his eyes grazing up and down your body, as if committing your form to his memory. What you’re seeing can’t be right; it has to be an illusion. You almost think he doesn’t want to leave you—can’t leave you. His feet are planted on the ground, his arms tucked against his chest.

He opens his mouth, but the Professor interrupts him before he can get a word in. “Logan!”

Logan steps out of the doorway impatiently, fists still clutched at his side. “Meet me on the lawn in thirty minutes, okay?” he huffs out, walking down the hallway towards Charles’ voice before you can give him an answer. Charles calls him again. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I hear you!”

Thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes. You can—absolutely cannot—wait thirty minutes.

God. You are so lovesick.

Twenty-five minutes later you’re sitting out on the lawn, far away from the mansion, waiting for Logan, popping the last cookie into your mouth.

You lay down on your back, the cold, wet grass sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a light breeze in the air, bending the green blades and the leaves of the trees back and forth. You look up at the stars, imagining just how hot they are, just how bright they can shine.

“You finished the cookies!” Logan’s voice calls from a few feet away. You sit up, watching the shadow of his form make his way over to you. You can see the smile spread across his face as he reaches your slide, crouching down and sitting next to you.

“Of course I did,” you say. He’s looking down at you, his eyes flickering across your face. You want to look away, but you can’t. It’s like he’s got you stuck there—he always does. He is the one thing you can’t resist.

Logan’s shoulder bumps against yours, the sudden warmth reminding you just how cold you are. You shiver, crossing your arms and tucking them into your chest.

You instinctively and involuntarily lean into his touch, searching for warmth. He catches on to what you’re doing before you do. “Cold?” He asks, shuffling a bit in his spot as he lifts his jacket.

“O-oh no it’s okay you don’t—” But then he’s taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Better?” He asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulders too, inviting you to lean into him completely.

“Y-yeah,” You stutter, letting your head rest against his chest. You close your eyes, too nervous to keep them open. His jacket smells like him—pine and tobacco and musk. Every breath you take is intoxicating. He’s everywhere, flooding your senses. It’s overwhelming, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than with him.

He sighs, his breath fanning against your forehead. “So, what’s the matter?” He asks, tugging you in tighter.

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nothing,” you say, doing your best to be convincing. “I’m fine.” But you know it’s no use. He can see right through you. It’s like knowing when you’re lying is part of his mutation.

Logan raises his brows. “You’re stressed.” It isn’t a question, it’s a fact. “I could see it before, when we were inside. I can see it when you’re teaching the kids.” He rubs his hand up and down your arm, the feeling almost distracting you from his words. His eyes search yours for the truth, for an answer. “You can talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as those last three words replay in your mind. You swallow your nerves down, searching for the right thing to say.

“What if we’re in danger?” You stumble over the sentence quickly, shooting it out into the air like it’s something you’ve wanted to get rid of for a long time. “What if the stupid war they’re always talking about comes, and we aren’t ready?” You can feel your heart racing, tears brimming behind your eyes.

Logan presses a kiss to your forehead, the warm feeling of his lips unexpected but welcome. “Hey,” he coos, his lips still pressed against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

A tear slides down your cheek. The words come out like vomit, each syllable slipping off your tongue in rapid-fire succession. “But what if it’s not? What if I can’t protect the kids or the team or you for fuck’s sake?” You can’t stop the floodgates—tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You’re speaking between sobs now. “What if they get to us before we can convince them that mutants aren’t something to be wiped out or some disease to be cured? What if—”

Logan’s arms wrap around your body, tugging you against his chest, pulling you as close as possible. “I’m not gonna let that happen,” he murmurs. “We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to be okay.”

“H-how do you know?” You choke, your chest heaving against his. “What if—"

“No more what ifs,” he whispers, his hands rubbing against the leather of the jacket—his jacket—on your back. “No one’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“O-okay,” you mutter. “Gonna k-keep you safe, too.”

Logan hums, the bassy timber of his voice filling your ears, calming your mind. “Don’t worry about me,” he pauses, one hand reaching up to the nape of your neck, rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there. “Just let me worry about you.”

“Always gonna worry about you,” you say, not backing down.

You can feel his heart beating against yours. “You don’t have to right now,” he soothes. “Let me take care of you.”

You don’t protest—don’t try to fight him this time. You let him pull you into his lap, let him hold you closer, let him play with the hair at the nape of your neck. You can feel his lips on the crown of your head. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been before. He feels so good, so firm and solid underneath you, so steadfast and constant. He’s a lifeline, a necessity. A safe place—asylum.

It has always been him that you need, and you’d be a liar to say otherwise.

Logan finally breaks the silence. “What are you thinking about?” He asks. You, you think.

“Me?” What?

“Did I just…” you trail off. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did,” he husks, his hands lowering down your back, slipping under the jacket and your thin t-shirt to the bare skin underneath. His palms are warm, and his touch is tentative, hesitant. “This okay?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, and Logan starts to draw patterns and shapes across your back. “Feels nice.” Your voice is soft and shaky as he explores your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about you too, you know,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. His nails drag across your back. You move your legs to straddle him. “You’re the only thing on my mind, princess.” He presses his forehead to yours as if to show you, to prove to you that he’s telling the truth. You shudder at the words, at the thought. He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, lowering his lips until they’re just centimeters from yours.

The world feels frozen. You’ve long forgotten you’re outside, the breeze cutting across the grass. You’ve forgotten about the stars twinkling above you. They’re nothing—just balls of heat burning out millions of miles away. You’ve forgotten about all the hatred you’re forced to face, all the variables and lives at stake in this stupid war. Your mind is calm. Everything is suddenly nothing.

Everything is him. Logan.

“Logan,” you mumble. It’s a plea, a prayer, a demand. And he knows exactly what you’re asking for as his name hangs in the air between the two of you.

His lips crash down onto yours, tasting you, savoring you. But it isn’t languid or slow—it’s rushed, frantic, starving, as if your world is ending; it very well could be. He’s pushing you down onto the grass, his muscular arms on either side of your head, caging you in underneath him.

“Wanted you this whole time,” he pants in between kisses. “Needed you, couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.” He pushes the jacket open with one of his hands and hitches your shirt up. He lowers himself onto his forearm as his nails drag up your stomach, settling just under your ribs. He spreads his palm, feeling the expanse of your skin, tracing your curves and the dips of your body.

“F-fuck,” you stutter, arching your back off the grass and into his chest, offering more of yourself to him.

He bites your lower lip and kisses the pain away. “You gonna let me take you right here?” He growls, his fingers playing with the hem of your bra. “Gonna let me fuck you outside, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whine, lifting your hips against his, feeling his erection straining in his jeans. “Need you, Lo.”

He curses under his breath as he sits up, his hands pawing at the leather jacket, tearing it from your body and casting it aside. You sit up too, keeping yourself close to him. He’s yanking at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He takes off his beater next, but you don’t get the chance to admire him. Everything is a blur, the throwing of clothes, the way he’s shoving you back down to the grass as his fingers unclasp your bra. The straps fall down your arms, and Logan slips it off the rest of the way.

He pauses, taking you in, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, lowering himself back down over you, balancing on one forearm as his free hand slides up your stomach, over your ribs, finally settling on your chest. He cups your tits, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over one nipple and then the other.

“Perfect. You’re so goddamn perfect,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your chin. He continues his trail down to your jaw, your collarbone, the center of your chest.

He takes a detour, his lips latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, his tongue flicking out and soothing the ache away. He kisses across the valley of your chest, bringing his mouth to the other side. He flits his tongue across your other nipple, and continues his trail down your stomach, peppering innocent kisses as he travels lower and lower.

He stops at the hem of your shorts, looking up at you under hooded eyes. You can see the lust, the desire, the need. “Please,” you whimper. And then he’s hastily unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs and throwing them carelessly into the grass.

Logan pushes your thighs open. “Keep your legs spread for me, sweetheart.” You can feel his breath on your clit. “Wanna taste you,” he rasps, kissing your core teasingly. “Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

And then his tongue is pushing through your folds, lapping at your juices, all the way up to your clit. It’s already too much, your hips lifting off the grass. Logan brings his arm across your hips in response, keeping you down. “Stay,” he grunts, his voice vibrating against your heat. “Don’t know where you think you’re going, princess.” He’s looking up at you now. You can see the desperation and the hunger in his eyes.

He's starving for you.

He buries his face back into your cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds again before finally settling on your clit. He latches his lips around the bud, sucking harshly. He flicks his tongue out, drawing sweet, sacrilegious circles against your core.

His free hand climbs up your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider for him. His nails ghost across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He finds his way to your folds, spreading your slick, teasing your entrance. You moan his name as he presses your squirming hips down firmly into the ground. “Doing so good for me,” he breathes against your swollen clit. “Such a sweet fucking pussy.”

He sinks two fingers deep into your cunt, humming against you, savoring the taste of you. He pumps in and out, deeper every time. “F-fuck Lo,” you cry out, your hands grasping the blades of grass beneath you for purchase. “Feels so good.”

Your walls flutter around him, your muscles already contracting as he works you open. “That’s it, princess,” he huffs, his teeth grazing your clit as he sucks, hard. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers, can feel you getting close.”

“S-so close,” you choke out as he fucks his fingers into you. His pace becomes faster, relentless. He laps at you like he’s a man who has never eaten in his life.

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes. “Come on my tongue, darlin’. Know you can do it.” He’s working you through it, swirling his tongue, flicking your clit, licking thick, hard stripes around the bud. His long fingers scissor inside you, rubbing against your walls deliciously. It’s all too much, but it’s just what you need. “Let go for me, pretty girl.”

You feel your walls contract as the fire in your belly spills. You chant his name—Logan. It’s a prayer—no—a promise. It hangs in the air as you come undone underneath him. His fingers pump in and out of you slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm. He carefully pulls out after a few more thrusts, but his face is still buried in your cunt, still lapping at your swollen, overstimulated clit.

“Lo,” you whimper, looking down at him. He looks up at you, his tongue licking one long stripe before he stops completely.

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit as he sits up and unbuckles his belt. “Gonna have to taste that pretty pussy again later, yeah?” He throws his belt to the side and unbuttons his jeans. He slides the zipper down, too, and hooks his fingers inside his jeans, shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs in one quick movement.

You can make out just how big he is in the moonlight. You swallow at the size of him. He lowers down onto you again, resting on his forearm, guiding his cock towards your entrance.

He captures your lips in a kiss as he nudges against you, teasing you, spreading your folds open for him. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he coos, kissing you again. “Gonna make you feel good.”

You wrap your arms around his back, bringing his chest flush to yours. “Need you, Logan. Need you inside me.”

“I know,” he whispers, nudging teasingly against you again. “I know.”

And then he’s shoving himself deep inside you, filling you up. You can feel his cock twitching, throbbing, searching for more of you. He pulls all the way out and buries himself back down to the hilt.

“F-fuck,” you curse, your nails digging into his shoulders, searching for support. “It’s s-so much. So big.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he husks, setting a slow, easy pace, letting you adjust to the size of him. “Taking me so good.” He’s working you open with every pump, his cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out.

Logan brings his free hand between your bodies to your still-swollen clit, stroking gently as he plunges deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You moan his name, your chest coming flush with his as you arch your back. The contact feels so nice—just what you needed. He’s fucking you out, pounding into you over and over again.

He's erasing every fear, every bad dream, every horrible vision you’ve ever had. It’s what he does to you. It’s just him—Logan—always has been and always will be.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts. “Letting me fuck you out here.” His hips snap against yours—building his pace, growing faster and deeper as he thrusts into you. You can feel yourself growing closer, crumbling underneath him. You can’t last much longer, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing him tightly.

He moans your name into your mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip, tasting you. “You feel so good, pretty girl,” he groans, rocking into you. “So soft, so tight. Know you’re close.” He flicks your clit, and then circles roughly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“G-gonna…” You trail off, a bumbling mess, unable to finish your sentence as Logan fucks into you.

“I know, pretty girl,” He soothes. “I’m right here, I’ve got you. Come for me.”

You can’t hold back anymore. You can feel yourself letting go, your walls fluttering around him, taking him deeper, holding him tighter. Your orgasm washes over you, like sun stretching across your skin, like a fire spreading in a forest. It’s all too much, too good.

Logan isn’t far behind. You can feel his cock twitching deep inside you, his pace faltering, his thrusts becoming sloppier. His fingers leave your clit and travel up your body. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he pumps into you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Wanna come inside you, pretty girl,” he moans, pulling you closer, taking you deeper.

You nod against his forehead. “P-please,” you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t want you to leave yet.”

“F-fuck,” he growls, your words sending him over the edge as he spills inside you, filling you up. “You’ve idea,” he chokes, “how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” His thrusts slow as he rides out his orgasm, pumping in and out a few more times before pulling out of you.

He doesn’t break contact—doesn’t rush to get changed. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him so that your head rests on his chest, your body tucked tightly into his. You can hear his heart beating deep inside—hear his shaky breaths become more stable. The air is no longer cold—the breeze a welcome contrast to the hot summer night air.

Your legs tangle together. Somewhere in the distance birds sing. A branch creaks. The wind whisks through the grass. You close your eyes and listen. The calm before the storm. This peace can’t last.

“Lo?” You call, breaking the silence.

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m right here.”

“I know, but—”

It’s like he can read your mind. “I’m not going anywhere. No one is.” He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“I’m just scared to lose you, to lose all this.”

Logan presses another kiss to your head. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.”

Nothing’s gonna take you from my side.

#Logan Howlett x reader #Wolverine x reader #James Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x reader smut #Wolverine x reader smut #James Logan Howlett x reader smut #Logan Howlett smut #Wolverine smut #James Logan Howlett smut #Logan Howlett imagine #Wolverine imagine #James Logan Howlett imagine #Logan Howlett x you #Wolverine x you #James Logan Howlett x you #Logan Howlett x you smut #Wolverine x you smut #James Logan Howlett x you smut

5K notes · View notes

byoldervine · 2 months

Text

Writing Tips - Character Tone VS Narrative Tone

Sometimes characters will do things that they believe are good or bad, but the narrative tone tells you otherwise. It can be hard for some people to separate the character’s feelings and actions with what the writer is personally agrees with, so let’s look into how we can make that happen - which also works as a media literacy guide of what to look for when theorising - and only theorising - if a writer does or doesn’t agree with a character;

1. Tonal dissonance. If a character’s mood doesn’t pass the scene’s vibe check, chances are that the character is about to do something the narrative isn’t framing as a good thing. Say Character A is telling Character B a secret they learned from Character C. B’s response might be to be confused or concerned about the situation and ask why A would tell them. Mixing in other bad vibes, such as the weather or setting or lighting of the scene, can additionally make the audience question whether the action was right - and bonus points if they also have the offending character acting poorly in other ways or getting called out for previous wrongdoings in the same scene

2. Karma’s a writer. Actions have consequences both in and out of your story, and using them to reward or punish choices your characters make can indicate whether or not they were the right thing to do. Expand on that through character interactions if you want more nuance

3. Hide away. A character hiding their actions for whatever reason can indicate that, even subconsciously, they’re aware that it wasn’t something others would approve of. Make them sweat, have them struggle to keep it secret. Let it lead to more wrong moves in future to cover up for the original issue, such as one lie covering for another lie. Let it become more trouble than it’s worth until they have to accept that they messed up, even if a bit of stress was the only karma they get for it in the end

4. Pick a theme. Between overarching themes and individual character themes, you can potentially come up with some pretty good long term lessons; if the character acts against the themes and the lesson they’re going to amount to, punish them for straying in a way that’s appropriate and proportional to the act, then work it into some sort of lesson for the character to learn. For example, if the theme is nature vs nurture and you want the lesson to be being true to yourself rather than what others make you into, a character acting on nurtured traits rather than natural traits might be punished through pressures to conform and the act getting amped up as further conflicts between the two sides of themselves present

5. Recruit a mouthpiece. Which character would be the most likely to call out the offending party’s BS? See if you can come to a scenario where they’d do so - albeit making sure it all stays natural and in-character. Maybe they go about it in a way that doesn’t even hit the mark, but at least it’s been said so your audience has had it addressed. Remember; don’t just insert X random character and have them be uncharacteristically analytical, have it be someone who would already do that and word it in a way that fits their character voice. Above all the interaction needs to feel natural rather than forced

#narrative #narrative tone #character tone #writing morals #writing #writers #writeblr #bookblr #book #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writers of tumblr #writer #creative writing #writing tips and tricks #writing is hard #writing advice #writing tricks #writing tips

638 notes · View notes

seoulzie · 2 months

Text

after school activities

WHEREIN: late-night work sessions reveal hidden feelings between the president and vice president.

彡 pairing: student council president!jun x vice president!reader 彡 genre: smut 彡 warnings: fingering, pussy eating, semi-public, markings (scratching, hickeys, biting) & pet names (baby)

SEUL SPEAKS! this was a requested fic but i accidentally deleted the ask (┬﹏┬) nonetheless! I'll take my chances & post it either way ㅎㅎ

it was the final stretch before the school festival, and the weight of responsibility had fallen heavily on the student council's shoulders. yeonjun, the esteemed student council president, and you, his dedicated vice president, had taken it upon yourselves to ensure everything went smoothly. as the clock ticked past regular school hours, the hallways emptied, and the sounds of students' chatter faded into the quiet hum of the building's ventilation system.

the council room was lit dimly, papers scattered across the large wooden table in organized chaos. the rain outside created a soothing backdrop, a steady patter against the windows that contrasted with the intensity of your work. you both stayed late, poring over last-minute details, the pressure to deliver a successful festival mounting.

“yeonjun, i think we should recheck the seating arrangements for the performances,” you suggested, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you scanned the documents.

he nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “good idea. we don’t want any mishaps on the day itself.”

most of the school's personnel and students had long gone home, leaving the two of you in the peaceful solitude of the council room. the silence was comforting, yet it also amplified the unspoken tension that had been building between you and yeonjun over the past few weeks. the subtle touches, the lingering looks, and the gentle pats had not gone unnoticed.

you reached for a pen, your fingers brushing against his. a spark of electricity passed through you at the contact, causing you to glance up, only to find yeonjun already looking at you. his eyes held a depth of emotion you hadn't noticed before, and it made your heart race.

“sorry,” you mumbled, pulling your hand away, but yeonjun’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

“don’t be,” he said softly, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. “i’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

your breath hitched, and you nodded, unable to find your voice. yeonjun stood up, moving around the table to stand in front of you. he cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, and you leaned into his hand instinctively.

“we’ve been spending a lot of time together,” he began, his voice steady but nervous. “and... i’ve been feeling something more.”

your heart started to race, anticipation building.

“i like you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve liked you for a while now.”

your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding in your chest. “i… i like you too, yeonjun,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.

a small smile tugged at his lips before he leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. it was sweet, exploring, and filled with unspoken emotions. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate by the second.

yeonjun pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with yours. “are we supposed to be doing this?” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

you searched his eyes, seeing the same conflict reflected in them that you felt. “i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “but it feels right.”

he nodded, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “yeah, it does.”

with a shared understanding, you both leaned in, your lips meeting again with more fervor. the hesitation melted away, replaced by a growing urgency. yeonjun’s hands roamed your body, caressing your sides, igniting a fire within you. he guided you toward the couch, laying you down gently as he hovered above you. the rain outside grew heavier, mirroring the intensity building between you two.

his kisses trailed down your neck, leaving a path of burning desire. you moaned softly as he nipped at your skin, sucking and biting, leaving marks that claimed you as his. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, craving more of his touch.

you gasped as his hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he looked at you.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hand moving higher, slipping under your bra to cup your breast. his thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

you arched into his touch, a whine escaping your lips. “please, yeonjun,” you begged, your voice trembling with need.

he smirked, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. his hand squeezed your breast, his thumb and index finger rolling your nipple between them, making you whimper against his mouth. he pulled back just enough to tug your shirt and bra off, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“so perfect,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your collarbone to your chest. he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hand continued to knead your other breast. you writhed beneath him, your body on fire.

he switched to your other breast, giving it the same attention, his hand slipping down to unzip your skirt. he slid them off along with your underwear, leaving you completely exposed beneath him. his fingers brushed over your core, already slick with arousal, making you shudder.

“you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his fingers sliding through your folds. he circled your clit with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make you see stars.

“yeonjun, i need you,” you pleaded, your hips bucking against his hand.

he kissed his way down your body, spreading your legs wider as he settled between them. his breath was hot against your core, his tongue flicking out to taste you. you cried out, your hands fisting in his hair as he licked and sucked, his fingers teasing your entrance.

“oh, god, fuck,” you moaned, your body trembling with pleasure.

he slipped a finger inside you, curling it to hit that sweet spot that left you breathless. he added another finger, pumping them in and out, his tongue never letting up on your clit. you were on the edge, your orgasm building rapidly.

“i’m gonna come,” you gasped, your body tensing.

“do it,” he urged, his voice husky. “come for me.”

with a final flick of his tongue, you fell over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. he continued to pump his fingers, drawing out your pleasure until you were left trembling and breathless.

he climbed back up, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “i need you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i need to be inside you.”

you nodded, your hands reaching down to unbutton his pants. he quickly shed them along with his boxers, his erection springing free. he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking onto yours.

“are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky.

you nodded, your own desire reflected in your eyes. “yes, i want this.”

yeonjun’s lips found yours again as he entered you, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left your eyes rolling. his hands gripped your hips, leaving marks where his fingers dug into your skin, his name a constant mantra on your lips. the room filled with the sounds of your passion, the rain outside only adding to the symphony.

your nails raked down his back, leaving red trails, and he groaned in response, his movements becoming more urgent. you felt the tension building within you, every touch, every kiss pushing you closer to the edge.

“yeonjun, i’m close,” you moaned, your body arching against him.

“me too,” he panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “let go, baby.”

with a final cry, you both reached your climax, your bodies trembling with the intensity of your release. yeonjun collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both tried to catch your breath. he kissed your forehead, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

“that was amazing,” you whispered, snuggling closer to him.

yeonjun chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “it was.”

as the rain continued to fall outside, you lay in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. in that moment, everything felt perfect, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

THE NEXT DAY a little post-credit scene bc i got carried away hehe

you walked into school the next morning, your body still buzzing from the night before. the memory of yeonjun’s touch lingered on your skin, and as you swung your locker door open, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the chipped mirror, .you noticed several hickeys peeking out from under your collar. you quickly adjusted your shirt, trying to cover them, but the effort was futile; the marks were too many and too obvious.

“hey, did you sleep at all?” one of your friends asked, approaching you with a teasing smile. “you look like you had a wild night.”

you blushed, your mind flashing back to the moments on the council office’s couch. “just stayed late working on festival stuff,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded nonchalant.

“yeah, right,” your friend laughed, nudging you playfully. “i’m sure the ‘festival stuff’ was really intense.”

before you could respond, yeonjun walked up, his own shirt doing a poor job of hiding the marks you had left on him. his eyes met yours, and a knowing smile curved his lips.

“morning,” he greeted, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

“morning,” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up.

your friend’s eyes widened as they looked between the two of you. “wait, did you two…?”

yeonjun wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “we were just working late,” he said with a wink, making you blush even harder.

⋆˚࿔ taglist! @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @beombeomlovesme , @missmoaforbeom , @lun4kazumii , @s0urcherry , @rianrishu, @blossommi ⤷ want to get notified? click here!

645 notes · View notes

emptyjunior · 9 months

Text

Can I say how much I love how Ouran High School handles the rich boy/poor girl in love trope.

Like I absolutely believe it’s discussions about classism and elitism to this Day still hold up!

I will admit there is so much weird stuff in ouran😭, but we see the Handsome ‘Unlimited Money’ Male Lead a LOT in anime and I feel ouran gets a lot of points of the characterisation SO right, that a lot of other shows just don’t!

Ouran does the whole love story/harem/all the boys want brown hair girl that we project on, trope. Like they do that, but they show that at the foundation, the root of all of it, those rich boys are JEALOUS. They aren’t approaching Haruhi with the need to protect and own her, at their core the rich are envious of her! Even though they have everything, they want what she has!

Like we see in the real world with how the rich cosplay as poor! And say "ohhhh I'm so broke please venmo me for lunch" and wear their ripped jeans and strained sweaters and take pictures at the met gala with a box of McDonalds fries in their hand.

The classist comments made towards Haruhi ARE comedic relief, but the joke isn’t on characters like Haruhi, the joke is on THEM.

They are the ones who can’t do anything! They are the ones who are stilted and emotionally closed off! They are the ones who can’t make an instant coffee or go to a mall without help!

THAT is why Haruhi is the center of this harem, why she is the one they’re chasing. They are jealous of her insight and world experience from living independently, from living a REAL life. That is her enviable trait. Haruhi GETS people! And they don’t. Their wealth has isolated them and now there is a barrier between these characters and the rest of the world and they have no idea how to navigate it.

And this is the foundation of 90% of the problems/conflict in the show!

The holiday ep when Hikaru has feelings because Haruhi reconnects with Nice Guy Arai? Hikaru says he doesn’t like this guy for all these reasons and most of them are like ‘he’s just some nobody from nothing who only knows Haruhi cause they went to some stupid public school together’. Like okay? Haruhi has all of those ‘bad traits’ as well but you still seem to like her?

Because it’s not about that, it’s never about that, it’s not even about the love rival/romance angle (at least not completely).

Hikaru is scared and embarrassed! He already was when they got there, when these rich boys crashed Haruhi’s summer to find out she is an employee here and she is working with her own two hands. This is not a break for her! And then he’s so worried when Haruhi and Arai find each other because what they have is so untouchable to him. Same background, same class, they can meet each other’s needs! And know the other's needs! And this is a chasm that Hikaru has no idea how to cross so he starts lashing out.

And that episode concludes with Hikaru being told about Haruhi’s fear of thunderstorms, finally actually listening and empathizing with what that means, and then going to her and giving her the stuff she needs to deal with that problem (blanket, headphones, support, protection etc.).

He has to LEARN that none of those poor people inherently know all this secret knowledge! They just care and ask each other stuff! You can ask Haruhi what she's afraid of and then help her with that! It was always this simple! Just because you’re not the same class as her and knowing her isn’t as easy as it is with people the same as you, doesn’t mean you’ll never know! Learn! Listen! Keep trying!

Ouran shows their rich characters being hurt by their wealth. Their elitists mindset does NOT benefit them and they’re only narratively rewarded when they break out of it, THAT’S why the arcs are so good.

(And also while we’re here, I LOVE when they do eps that show Tamaki’s character is actually a parallel of Haruhi’s. Tamaki grew up as an illegitimate child, hidden away in France with his mother. He knows what it is to not be at the top of the food chain, and he learns the skills to keep living! Tamaki is a survivor in a world run by a man who was ashamed of him and did not want him. That can destroy a child, but Tamaki doesn’t let it. He learns how to work people and he learns that belief in yourself is the most powerful asset someone can have. And this is the life experience he imparts onto Kyoya and this SAVES Kyoya, who was barreling towards a black pit of despair and chasing his father’s shadow. The ‘poor’ characters of this show have power that the rich people desperately desire, and in the end they learn that it’s not something you take it’s something you build for yourself.)

#anyways yes kyoya and tamaki ARE the rich boy/manic pixie girl trope #ohshc #ouran #ouran high school host club #tamaki suoh #haruhi fujioka #kyoya ootori #hikaru #anime #manga #tropes #text post

1K notes · View notes

girlokwhatever · 4 months

Text

⚘⋆.ೃ࿔✧*ੈ˚ ༘♡⋆❀ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part 2 ; discover me and reality

previous part - next part

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

the gravity of your situation didn’t sink in until the next morning. a few of your friends messaged you during the night, some of them including girls from the basketball team. apparently bianca had posted all about it on her finsta, dissing you and paige and claiming you were a ‘cheating slut.’

you also noted quite a few missed calls and texts from bianca. you couldn’t help but read them, noticing her text demeanor is much different than how she is online. she’s practically begging you to talk to her, pleading with you to answer the phone.

you didn’t really think it all through and as soon as you read all of those messages, it hit you like a fucking bus. were you and paige going to keep this up? or was it a dumb drunk decision she made and was now regretting it?

there was only one way to find out. you didn’t want to confront her about it though, embarrassment seeping through you along with last night’s memories. you couldn’t even believe yourself, asking your best friend to be your fake girlfriend. let alone a girl you knew you had been avoiding for two months.

you groan into your pillow, letting your poor decisions rack over your head. you couldn’t deny the way your pace quickened at the thought of paige being your girlfriend, even if it wasn’t real. everyone thought it was. you push the thought away, immediately feeling quilty for thinking of your best friend that way.

you lift your head when you feel a gentle knock on your half-opened bedroom door. you see paige, standing in all her glory. she has a sweat set on, long blonde hair down and wavy, adorning her shoulders. if your heart wasn’t skipping beats before, it certainly was now.

“paige! hi!” your speech is breathless and short, shocked to see her in your apartment. you hope she didn’t catch you in your little moment, unaware of how long she’s been here. you remember that you’re half-naked under the covers, making note to keep them up and above your chest. it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before probably, but it’s different now.

“hey, i didn’t mean to wake you up or anything. jus wanted to check on you.”

“oh um, i’m good. yeah, good.” you struggle to find your words between the way she takes your breath away and how nervous you are. get it together. “how are you?”

“oh y’know, i’m good. hey i wanted to ask you something, i don’t know if you’ll really remember but.. last night bianca said something about how you and me-” she’s cut off by the sound of your phone ringing, bianca’s name flashing across your screen. paige shamelessly looks, mood immediately dropping.

much like bianca never liked paige, paige never liked bianca. your best friend always felt as if you were too good for her and deserved better. she still believes that. she believes she can be your better.

your eyes linger a little longer than paige would’ve hoped, taking note of your conflicted and angered expression.

“hey, since i woke you up you should let me buy you some coffee. i can get you breakfast too.”

you ended up accepting her offer, the two of you spending a few hours together getting coffee and walking around in town. as soon as you got back to your apartment, paige’s phone started going crazy with calls from her teammates, kk in particular.

she answered, leaning against your kitchen counter and propping her phone up. it didn’t go unnoticed how she filled your space so naturally. you were really glad the new situation you found yourselves in didn’t make anything awkward between the two of you.

not yet at least.

“PAIGE- it’s real right? the news?”

“what news?”

“girl boo don’t play right now- you and princess!”

while you and paige were out, you came up with a few rules for your ‘relationship.’ one of those was that it was a sworn secret between only the two of you, no one else. it meant you’d both have to lie to your friends, even those closest to you, but you couldn’t risk a slip up. the thought of everyone finding out you plotted an entire fake relationship just to make your ex jealous horrified you— you couldn’t let her win.

“oh yeah, real stuff.” she angled her phone towards you as you packed away some minimal groceries. kk caught glimpse of you and screamed, cheering about how her ‘two favorite people are together!’

“ok so boom- you guys should come over to the team dorm tonight. we’re throwing you a couples welcoming party!”

“a what?!”

“paige girl just come. and bring your new cute girlfriend with you. we love you princess!”

“i love you kk!”

after the call ended you and paige decided to lounge around, watching a couple of movies and catching up on the latest trends. it made you happy to just have her around, finding yourself falling back into your close bond with her.

she was happy too, esthetic really. after two months of you distancing yourself and pushing her away, she was finally back to normal with you. as close to normal as you can get with your best-friend-turned-fake-girlfriend. she missed being in your apartment, rummaging through all your dvd movies she’s seen a million times already. she missed your soft blankets and the signature scent of your home that she couldn’t find anywhere else. it was everything that made you, you.

eventually the two of you had to get ready. your process was a bit longer than hers, but she still got up when you did. you tossed her a slightly nicer, more presentable outfit she left at your place after a group sleepover once. you disappeared after that, starting your own routine.

“i’m bored,” she walks into your bathroom, leaning against the counter as she watches you. you sneak a glance at her, noticing her expression.

“you can leave before me, s’not a big deal.”

“i think it’d be weird if we didn’t show up together for our inauguration party.”

“oh, right. you’re right.”

she goes silent again, watching as you put the finishing touches on your makeup and adjust your clothes. she shamelessly admires you while you’re not paying attention, entranced by the way you look. even by the way your chest rises with each breath.

“are we going to talk about it?”

“i thought we went over everything this morning?”

“no not that. i’m talking about what bianca said last night. about you and me sneaking around.” you pause, staring your own reflection in the eye. you can’t make eye contact with her out of fear you’ll give yourself away so you just pretend to touch up a spot on your chin.

“it’s nothing really. she was just paranoid. she said that about all my friends,” it wasn’t a complete lie, bianca had suspicions of each of your friends. paige though, she garnered the majority of bianca’s accusations. you couldn’t tell her she’s the reason you and bianca broke up. paige feels her heart sink a bit and she knows it’s wrong. it’s wrong to want bianca be jealous and insecure of the relationship you have with paige, at least while you two were together. but you’re not together anymore. you’re with paige now. in a sense.

“oh, alright. makes sense i guess.”

as soon as paige pushes you through the door of her dorm, party confetti and party horns are in your face. it’s loud, everyone either blowing some whistle or simply cheering. you didn’t think your new public status with paige would excite them so much.

“happy one day anniversary yall!! that we know of..” kk flashes both of you dirty looks, her way of scolding you for not telling everyone sooner. they’re oblivious to the fact that it would’ve been impossible to let this know, considering it was completely new for you and paige as well.

balloons adorn the walls and ceiling, a small cake rests on the counter, neon lights everywhere, they really went all out. there’s even a banner with your and paige’s ship name on it.

“guys..”

“our fav couple deserves nothing but the best,” azzi smiles and pats your shoulder, pulling you with her as everyone floods the kitchen. she serves you your favorite at home drink, liquid swishing as you take a swig. you were gonna need it.

“i don’t know who asked who, but one of yall just won me fifty bucks,” nika grins, showing her venmo to everyone. kk rolls her eyes, clueing that she was probably the one on the other end of that bet.

“you guys made a bet on when we’d get together?” you ask, completely unaware of why this was even a thing.

“months ago.”

paige is frozen, face red as she stands statue still. every once in awhile she’d drop a hint at her admiration for you and she really hopes no one says anything, all completely unaware you don’t actually know paige has real feelings for you. she was stressed, positive she was going to break out in a sweat.

“ok enough of that. let’s eat some cake!” she tries to avert the conversation, giving kk a warning glare and nudging nika with her elbow. she couldn’t have anything going wrong tonight. or ever, really.

amari cuts the cake, serving everyone an equal slice. everyone found a spot in the living room, you cozying up next to paige on the couch. you were sitting between her legs, back to her chest as everyone gathered.

“so how’d it happen?”

“probably during sex or something-”

“no kk, bad.” ice scolds, watching kk give her best puppy dog eyes. you couldn’t believe how over the moon everyone was about it, never having heard any romantic innuendoes connecting you to paige.

“we were just hanging out, like usual. it kinda just happened.”

“how long ago?”

“uh, a few weeks ago.”

you’re glad paige decided to take the lead on answering the questions. they came up with them like rapid fire, some of them completely random. most of those came from kk and ice though.

“well, we’re glad it finally happened. we were beginning to think paige would never do it.”

that shocks you and stills paige, both of your breaths hitching, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions about what caroline was saying but it was hard not to, it was an outright insinuation of paige having romantic feelings for you. she knew it too, not sure on how she was going to get herself out of it. nika notices paige’s expression, narrowing her eyes in her direction.

“well, it’s a shame what bianca is saying about you online. you didn’t actually cheat on her right?”

“of course she didn’t. bianca’s just a bitch.” paige’s tone is filled with malice, mood swinging at the mention of your ex. you didn’t expect such a vulgar response from her, eyebrows furrowing in mixed emotions.

“paige-”

“bianca’s an insecure person that deserves to rot alone.”

you immediately nudge her, silencing her unfiltered thoughts. you didn’t know why she was acting like this, having very seldom seen this side of her.

everyone becomes distracted quickly, giving you the opportunity to address her hostility.

“okay, chill. what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing. jus defending you. is that a problem?”

“defending me from what, paige? the ghost of christmas past?”

at that she’s silent, fully aware that you’re right. bianca isn’t here and yet she’s still saying all these things. part of paige, the irrational part, gets upset at the way you still defend bianca. the more rational side empathizes with you, understanding that you’re probably still healing.

“yeah, alright. fine. my bad.”

you figure that’s the best apology you’ll get from her so you take it. phasing back to reality around you, you notice everyone has dispersed into groups, each one louder than the next. you and paige mingle, sticking together. eventually after an hour you find yourselves alone, paige creating an invisible protective barrier around you. her aura surrounds you and you swear you can almost feel it.

“enjoying the party?” the gives you flashbacks to last night when she asked nearly the same question, when things were simple.

“it’s good. never thought i’d go to a party celebrating something i made up though. i feel bad, lying to all of them.”

“they’ll be okay.”

it’s in this moment you realize eventually this will have to end. the reality of paige’s breath fanning your face, her pulse against your own, eyes locked with yours, makes you want to sink in on yourself. this can’t last forever, eventually it’ll end. you’ll ‘break up’ and possibly lose your close friendship with all the women in the room, all the women you’ve grown to love like family.

the thought itself makes you want to pull away, you can hardly stand to look paige in the eye. you already feel the barrier she’s built around you breaking, shattering to the ground in a million pieces. you want to run and never look back, never check to see if she’s following. but you don’t, you can’t. your heart sinks, stomach dropping and you feel sick.

you realize, truthfully and honestly, that you made the wrong decision.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

UMMMM PLOT PROGRSS IDK??!!!!!

i love you guys

make good decisions!!! (cough cough celeste)

#paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #lgbtq #lgbtqia #wlw slay #wlw yearning #wlw post #wlw angst #angst #fake dating #lesbian #bisexual

435 notes · View notes

cozycottagetarot · 2 months

Text

Your First 'Argument' With Them

Notes:

This rather light hearted (save one pile) reading explores the cause and resolution of your first significant argument/fight/tiff with your person.

The energies for you and your person could be potentially switched. For a few piles it felt like the reaction could belong to swapped between the two of you.

This was one of those readings where a lot of info only sorted itself out as I did each section so you really have to stick with me on this one haha.

There's some brief language in pile 3 & 4.

This reading is for entertainment purposes only! ✨

LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Paid Readings — Open 🫧

Pile 1

The Incident/Cause

Cards: Two of Swords, The World, Queen of Swords, The Chariot

Your first argument with your person is around a significant and potentially life changing decision that needs to be made. The decision can shape how you two move forward and close out a cycle but the conflict arises because you two have two opposing opinions or desires. There are a lot of different scenarios here however, so keep in mind the details will vary greatly from person to person. It could also be that one person is hesitant while the other is more self-assured. The other scenario I’m picking up on is maybe you (could be them) feel pressured by a time frame in what the decision needs to be made. Another situation that comes to me is being given an ultimatum. In general there’s an energy of stalling and needing to get moving. Sneaky ten of swords was hiding out in the deck! The vibes could be off and hurtful words exchanged. It could be a situation that makes or breaks the relationship.

The Resolution

Cards: Ace of Wands, Five of Wands, Seven of Wands reversed, Three of Cups, Three of Pentacles

This might get worse before it reaches a fiery climax and gets better. Quite honestly your person may become more intolerable and you might find yourself fighting to keep your cool. I don’t get a really intense fight though, just being majorly annoyed. You may both turn to your friends to get advice/help or a third party may help you both resolve the conflict.

In the end, you and your person will try to come up with a solution that works for both of you. They may or may not confess their feelings for you… it depends on your relationship.

Curious about their reaction, your reaction, and the long-term impact on your relationship? 🌟 Dive into the details in the extended version, available to all tiers on my Patreon! 💖✨ Don't miss out! 🌠

Pile 2

The Incident/Cause

Cards: Knight of Pentacles, The Lovers, Temperance, Knight of Swords, The Patient Witch, The Magician

The relationship is moving too slowly for someone. One person is comfortable with the pace and the other is like – “okay, um, what are we doing”. The relationship could be what each of you desires but one of you is more laid back and the other is a go-getter… very driven. I’m also getting a cancelled date and one person keeps saying “I want more”. Someone is spoiled by or wants to be spoiled with the other’s love and intention! The other person gives everything, just you know… slowly!

The Resolution

Cards: Ten of Wands, Page of Swords, Good Luck (Wheel of Fortune) Five of Wands, Ten of Cups

You two will eventually decide to stop making things so difficult for yourselves. You're only clashing because you can’t see you have to actively figure things out together. The resolution is that things will pick up the pace. It will require you both to turn within though as it seems like the resolution is internal work that in the end pushes you two forward.

For one of you, it’s about opening up and being vulnerable while for the other it’s about realising you’re allowed to receive. Kind of like the disconnect comes from lack of give and take (it’s there but imbalance). So once that is realised internally it can create a more secure and faster-moving flow.

Pile 3

The Incident/Cause

Cards: The Sun, Ace of Wands, King of Pentacles, The Chariot, Seven of Pentacles

*If you were drawn to pile two I highly suggest checking that out!

I’ve been fighting for my life on this one Pile 3. I kept doing this pile looking for the source of the first (major) argument or even disagreement but the story wasn’t adding up to anything bad. You two may be a couple that works through disconnects (cause at the point that’s all I can call it) right away. The other piles had arguments with breaks but I get that vibe of you two always working to be on the same page or at least understand each other in the moment.

But I still need to give you something so I decided to focus on the causes of general conflicts between you two.

You two may have conflicts/disconnects over expectations of what your lives should look like and even that seems super mild. It’s like ‘maybe life should look like XYZ → but oh wait I’m actually happy with what I have’… you two may have to shed the stories you’ve been told and keep working on what you have together and individually because you’re happy.

You guys might also be slow to get together as a couple. It felt like a waiting game in one of the previous pulls. Like you’re both hurt from previous experiences but also sure about your feelings for each other but unsure they’re reciprocated. So it’s a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of thing. You may run the risk of being “the one that got away”.

How Are Conflicts Resolved

Cards: Ace of Cups, Five of Swords, Seven of Wands, Ten of Wands, Seven of Cups

Conflicts may be so rare and few that you guys would definitely take it to heart. But I’m getting “I choose you you this lifetime and the next”. You two make a conscious decision to be in it together forever. You resolve conflicts through curiosity and a desire to understand each other. It’s like ‘this is the love of my life’ and “I don’t care, we’re getting through this together”. You naturally seek to understand each other and hold one another accountable.

Pile 4

‼️ Before you read: This pile has a theme of self confidence and possible anxiety/mental health issues.

The Incident/Cause

Cards: Queen of Wands reversed,m Ace of Wands, Good Luck Charm, Nine of Wands, Ten of Swords, Strength

This feels a bit messy (post-reading– but not really lol)… someone could have some self-confidence issues here. There’s also some energy of preferring to be alone rather than out with/around other people.

This fight was ‘bound’ to happen, but at the same time, it’s in your hands? It’s more of a self-fulfilling prophecy. It also has this vibe of being manageable to out of control and needing intervention. Someone, (likely you but this is one of those piles where the roles could be reversed), could have significant trauma or some anxiety/mental health issues going on.

Self-love is the issue and it causes a lot of worrying and isolation. It’s so hard to articulate this ‘softly’ which makes it even more challenging. Let's say Person A struggles but Person B can’t see why. In B’s eyes, A is the most gorgeous, passionate, fun, loving person ever. A and B may bicker a lot about the topic but I see this tension swelling and some hurtful things might be said. I think you two may also end up either taking space or separating for a little bit (like days more than weeks).

The Resolution

Cards: Page of Swords, Seven of Wands, Knight of Cups, Three of Swords, Queen of Swords, The Chariot

Your person is going to want to hear your story. You two could end up having a bit of a heart-to-heart. They’re going to work with you to help you get yourself back to a good place again (so supporting you being your own rescuer). They’ll be your accountability partner and cheerleader along the way, standing by your side as you learn to step into your power again. It might happen faster than you think it will, but it doesn’t mean you won’t falter. But when you do you’ll bounce back quicker.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #pac #tarot reading #free tarot #free tarot reading #future spouse #pick an image reading #pac tarot #cozycottagetarot #cozycottagetarot readings

357 notes · View notes

thunderstomm · 2 months

Text

Is “Prime Meridian Love” Forshadowing for “Battle of the Big Wand”?

With the most recent episodes of “Fairly OddParents: A New Wish” airing, everyone, myself included, is buzzing over what’s going to happen in the big season finale, what exactly is going to happen, and what’s the future state of Hazel and Dev’s friendship? There are many theories going around, but I want to pitch my own!

“Prime Meridian Love: Romance Cruise Ultra” is foreshadowing towards Hazel and Dev’s conflict and plot. Obviously, the show has drawn us a parallel here before, Duckworth looks like Dev. But rewatching the episode “Prime Meridian Love”, along with the context from new episodes and the description for the finale has me thinking that we may already know what’s to come.

Read the rest under the cut ! This post includes the episode description for “Battle for the Big Wand”, so if you want to go into that episode blind, don’t read further !

Starting with the most basic- Duckworth and Kennueth are stand-ins for Dev and Hazel. Duckworth is literally designed to look like Dev, and while less obvious, Kennueth seems to share a basic colour palette with Hazel, his skin and amulet being the colours of her shirt. There’s also the fact that Duckworth and Kennueth are described as “rivals”, and Hazel calls Dev her own rival.

This is where the backstory / history between Duckworth and Kennueth becomes relevant. The amulets are the one thing they share, and what’s something magical that Hazel and Dev have in common? Fairies!

The story goes that Kennueth and Duckworth were once friends, their friendship cemented by what bound them together. But Duckworth became jealous of Kennueth once he got promoted to captain. Sounds familiar? Hazel and Dev became friends, and shared the secret of having fairy godparents. They fell out over Dev’s jealously of Hazel, and that his dad seemed to care more about her, even if in an unconventional way.

Duckworth retalliates by stealing the magical pearl from the ancient sea temple, hoping for the power to overthrow Kennueth. Which brings me to my theory about the series finale, “Battle of the Big Wand”. Teaming up with Irep, I think Dev’s jealousy of Hazel having his father’s attention, as well as having two fairies while he only has one, will motivate him to steal the titular “Big Wand” during the takeover of Fairy World, hoping that it can grant him unlimited power, in his fleeting pursuit of satisfaction.

While the story of “Prime Meridian Love: Romance Cruise Ultra” goes on to say that this event cements their rivalry, the episode has Hazel and Kennueth stop Dev, and Hazel encourages Kennueth to re-write the story, and make things right with him, which he does !

I think the finale will follow one of these two beats. Hazel, Cosmo, Wanda, possibly Jorgen and Peri, and maybe even the citizens of Fairy World will all help to stop Dev and Irep, and we’ll either see Hazel and Dev’s bond cemented as a rivalry, or we will see Hazel reflect on the situation, and write her own story, and actually TALK to Dev about what has been going on. Personally, I would much prefer the latter. Dev is still a kid, and he’s a product of his environment. He deserves a chance to change and grow, and have good people by his side who actually care about him, to help him do so.

The only thing that I’m still unsure about is how Hazel’s rule free wish will tie into this all, but I do think she will use it like many of her other wishes, and do so selflessly.

What do you all think of this theory? I’m so excited (and nervous) for the big finale next week !!

282 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 7 months

Note

Hi!! How do you think potential meet cutes with Jason would go? Do you think he’d be instantly smitten? He strikes me as the type to get a crush on you since the first meeting but maybe I’m just delusional 🥰

My honest opinion but I don’t think Jason likes smut books. He doesn’t mind a little bit of smut but would much prefer if it was nonexistent or didn’t take up a ridiculous amount of pages/chapters in the book in general.

I’m also a delusional twat anon who believes Jason would feel something upon first meetings, but firstly I have to heavily disclose that most of your run ins with one another would be in a book store/cafe, at least more so then anywhere else. (Book reader Jason supremacy!)

So to say that your interest was peaked upon first spotted a six foot something, beast of a man standing in front of the romance section, holding two different books -which were both written by the Jane Austen- in each hand was an understatement.

Normally you wouldn’t expect a man like Jason in the romance section of a small, quite but quaint bookstore/cafe, withholding an internal conflict over some books in his head as though his life depended on it. However the fact still stands that you deeply appreciate a man with good taste in his personal readings, and wasn’t afraid to indulge in the romance genre.

It probably also didn’t help that he was a conventionally attractive man with short dark hair with a tuft of white embedded in his fringe and wearing a simple read hoodie and jeans, a simple attire that anyone could wear, but on him he made it seem as though it were a main staple of his wardrobe.

Jason, knowing when he’s being watched, as quick to look over his shoulder but what he wasn’t expecting was to see someone as cute and stunning as you standing there. He’s a little tongue tied but that was mainly from surprise, and for all of Jason’s hard attempts of trying to act natural, it only made for a spectacle that you couldn’t help but view as endearing and kinda cute.

‘You alright there?’ You’d ask with a smile.

‘Yeah. I’m good, fine even.’ Jason replied, internally cursing himself for being caught off guard because he was too involved in debating which book to take home to read.

‘So…You like Jane Austen?’ You asked, trying to make room for a conversation to occur between the two of you.

‘Wha-‘ Jason looks down at the books in either of his hands and chuckles. ‘Yeah, she’s one of my favourite alongside the likes of Mary Shelley and Louisa May Alcott.’ He answers and he could tell that he had gotten your approval with the little hum of acknowledgment.

‘Do you come here often?’ You then said before adding with an awkward laugh of your own, ‘I mean I come here quite frequently as it’s the only bookstore in town that has proper books that aren’t smut books, and i have never seen you before until well…today.’ Jason smiles, finding himself growing to like you with every passing moment as he felt himself grow relaxed within your presence, especially now that he had long deducted that you weren’t a real threat.

‘I’m with you on that pretence, it’s seems that nowadays all the bookshelves in most stores are prominently smut books of lacklustre quality and story structure.’ Jason agreed, noting being a fan of those types of books himself, Jason had found it becoming increasingly difficult to find decent books that weren’t smut, badly written girl boss self inserts, or just poorly written in general. So when he stumbled across this little book store on his way home and took a chance by entering the store, only to find himself spending way longer than he had initially thought.

And that was just in the romance section alone. That’s how Jason knew this bookstore was unlike all the rest in Gotham.

‘But as to answer your question, I come here on the off chance when I’m looking for a new book to read, seeing as I have read and re-read the books in my personal possession multiple times over.’ Jason admitted and feeling a little bashful but reading had proven to be a form of escapism for him- especially after everything he has been through recently- he felt as though this escape from reality was severely overdue.

‘You’ve got your own collection of books? Am I allowed to assume that they’re mainly Jane Austen’s body of work or?’ You trailed off, feeling yourself growing more confident with talking to Jason as though it was as easy as breathing. Finally you had someone to indulge in this sort of conversation with without it feeling forced and fall to the wayside, leaving you both to soak in the awkward and stifling aftermath.

Jason smiled genuinely as he bowed his head and raised his hands. ‘You got me down to a science…’ he trailed off once realising that he didn’t know your name and cursed himself for his lack of even the basic of etiquette.

‘Y/n.’ You told him with a smile.

‘Y/n.’ He tested out your name, letting it linger for a little bit and quickly came to the conclusion that he liked it. He liked it a lot. And you liked it also, especially when he was the one saying it the way he did just now.

‘Well it’s nice to meet you y/n. My names Jason.’ Jason then said and he knew that he’d come to like the way you said his name as though it were a mythical word;

‘Jason.’ You uttered, saying every word with care and respect that it left a weird feeling within Jason’s chest that only seems to grow and spread throughout his body the more you talked.

You two would talk for literal hours about your favourite book genres, characters and so on to the point that the owner of the bookstore would have to remove you both from the premises himself. He’d then proceed to go on about how you both were just taking the piss at this point and muttering about having to stay an while longer to properly close up shop, count the cash float, and so on before then making the journey home.

He honestly didn’t care about the books in Jason’s hand, just lets him have them for free on the pretence that both he and you get the fuck out before shutting and locking the door behind you both.

‘Well…’ Jason trailed off, tucking the books under his arm. ‘Will I see you again? Preferably here?’ He asks and you smiled sheepishly.

‘Depends, will you?’ You countered and Jason could feel the smile on his lips grow at it’s own accord. ‘Yeah, I’m definitely coming back if I get free books for every time I stay until closing hours.’ He jokes and you lightly smack his bicep, keeping your hand there for an unreasonably long time but it’s not like either you or Jason cared in that moment.

‘Then I guess I’m obligated to come back here to help you piss off the bookstore owner.’ You replied with a smile of your own as you both kept looking into the other’s eyes. You both knew something had blossomed here today at this run down bookstore, and you both hoped that it could continue like that for a long while, but neither of you were willing to admit your embarrassingly rapidly growing attraction to one another. That could wait for another time.

‘Great.’ Jason said.

‘Great.’ You echoed. ‘See you soon I guess.’

‘Soon can’t come fast enough.’ Jason replied ask you both went your separate ways with eager anticipation of your next interaction.

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

348 notes · View notes

hoodreader · 2 months

Text

cat women — vedic astrology.

i think cat woman is one of the most inspiring vigilantes for the ‘dark feminine’. she’s mystical, intuitive, cunning, flirtatious, & seductive. so when my friend & i were talking about the krittika nakshatra. she made a connection between krittika & animal textiles then i had the sudden realization that krittika reoccurs in the charts of people who play or dress as her.

i think this is because krittika is the blade; it means “the cutter.” whether the native has aries krittika or taurus krittika, the qualities persist. there’s always an iconic cat woman scene where cat woman uses her razor-sharp nails to cut a hole through glass. this also shows not only physical blades, but blades of the tongue, ie being “silver tongued” and/or having a “sharp” mind. the krittika nakshatra is very cutthroat. this also reminds me of that iconic whip scene, and the phrase “sharp as a whip.” sharpness is commonly used as a term to also describe someone’s intelligence… but also them being good-looking.

i also find that krittika nakshatra in women is highly sexy & desired, but due to the dark nature of krittika, a krittika woman is not wanted without adversity. this nakshatra is also associated with “splitting / cutting” up relationships & being “the other woman.” in a way, men deal with an inner conflict when being involved with the krittika woman. i think it’s because martian or solar qualities over a woman causes insecurity in men who are not secure with themselves. the type of men who hate you because they hate themselves. so these men project. there’s no way a woman like that could simply be liked, she must’ve seduced him.

and i feel that’s because the krittika woman is not the “ideal” woman. she’s not demure, she’s not passive, she’s not insecure, and she doesn’t depend heavily on the men around her. instead, she’s dominant, assertive, flirtatious. she cuts her hair short. and she’s sometimes androgynous in presentation, but still so sexy. and it drives men and women crazy. the presence of other planets being in anuradha, ashlesha, jyeshtha, bharani, mrigashira, etc can also strengthen these “dark” qualities in a krittika woman.

! halle berry is probably the most iconic cat woman in modern pop culture. she’s a krittika rahu, with an ashlesha sun.

halle berry’s role was so iconic, i think she informs the way modern actresses give their takes on cat woman, which is why we see so many of them having krittika placements. for example:

— ariana grande recreated cat woman in her “the boy is mine” music video. she’s a krittika venus & jyeshtha north node. — normani dressed up as cat woman for one halloween. she’s a krittika mars, as well as a bharani mercury. — zoë kravitz is a krittika jupiter & anuradha sun + mercury. — saweetie dressed as cat woman for halloween [?] and she’s another krittika venus. — naomi campbell did a shoot as cat woman, and she’s a krittika sun. i don’t know if that naomi shoot was before after halle berry’s movie but i digress.

kinda unrelated side note. my point about “the other woman” rings so true for the reputation ariana got. halle berry also applies, as she’s been in three marriages thus at least two separations. saweetie for her allegations with cheating. and so on. krittika can be a little romantically corrupted, but i think that’s why it translates into something so irresistible. in a “i’m not supposed to be doing this” way. i myself am a krittika venus, and i never cheated on someone or have been “the other woman” bc why the fuck would i do that to myself lol. buttt i will say that people usually start liking me when they know they shouldn’t. as a rebound, while they’re involved with someone, rebellious fetish, them pursuing me but hating the type of person i am because they want me to conform. like an exercise of conquest.

anyways… this is what i noticed of krittika and cat woman. hope y’all enjoyed my ramble. :P

#astro community #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #rambles #vedic

250 notes · View notes

aeshiiteiru · 1 year

Note

soo could you write about dazai, chuuya and tecchou's red green and beige flags?

…My Flags?

— Their green, red and beige flags ft. O.Dazai, N. Chuuya, S. Tetchou

— Warnings & Notes

sfw | Mix

|| thx for the request, made me have an unwanted reality check lmao

|| kinda angsty but also fluffy and funny, those are based on my own thoughts and opinions!

m.list | writing rules

— Dazai

The green flags

He tries his best to be a good boyfriend. Of course it takes time and effort, but he really tries to give his all for you and you notice it (most of the time). He just tries his best for you (even though he has his moments)

He showers you with compliments. He wants you to know what he feels for you every step of the way. Some compliments are actually just so ridiculous it’s funny

“Mh, ‘bella! You’re so beautiful I would definitely steal your photos, make a fake account, and impress other people online!”

“That’s, uh….creepy but cute, thank you love…”

Conversation with him are never boring! He will find thousands of stupid topics just to talk to you about them! He wants to hear you laugh and see you smile as you state your opinions on all these weird things. (He probably doesn’t want to do his work smh)

The red flags

He tends to gaslight you…a lot. Mostly about that you’re just paranoid that he gaslights you. He doesn’t do it on purpose most of the time, it’s just how he is.

Unfortunately he still flirts with other women. He isn’t cheating, but the sweet words and looks still happen sometimes. He does it unintentionally, but it’s there, it happens. He says he tries to get rid of these habits, but you’re doubtful.

Dazai runs away from his problems. Always. Whenever there is a conflict between you two he tries to brush it off and act like everything is okey. That is until he notices you’re genuinely upset with him, then he just leaves. He leaves and returns after a few hours or days of no contact and acts like nothing happened again.

The beige flags

When he notices that he accidentally made you cry, he will jump on top of you to aggressively suck the tears off your face like some human vacuum in order to make you laugh and feel better. It’s ridiculous but it works.

Whenever you ask him what he wants to eat he always, always replies with “you” or “nothing”. No in-between, no specifics. It was funny at first, but at some point you just started to sigh and shake your head at it.

He keeps his undies that have holes in them so that he can surprise you by walking out the bathroom and tearing them off his body only leaving the waist band. He calls it the “grand reveal”. Always whenever you least expect it. Makes you question many things.

— Chuuya

The green flags

He notices the little things. You have a sparkle in your eyes whenever you see a flower you like? Expect a bouquet of these flowers on the table the next day. You pick out a vegetable from your food because you don’t like it? He noticed, and he made sure that that vegetable never appears in your house ever again.

Yeah so he is always trying to impress you with things. He often makes a fool out of himself because of it, but it brings a smile to your face so you let him do his thing.

Chuuya loves to gossip about people with you. You know the second he says “you won’t believe what happened.” Means you’re in for the hottest, spiciest tea spill in history. His gossip is always so juicy it leaves you gasping with every sentence. You love how he trusts only you with it.

The red flags

The way he expresses his anger makes you feel unsafe sometimes. You never know when he will accidentally harm you during one of his anger outbursts. It’s very worrisome to you and actually him too.

He is an alcoholic already a separate red flag, so stuff happens when he is wasted (which is often). Chuuya often tells you hurtful things during that time. It’s things he would never, ever allow to leave his mouth while sober, but we all know drunk Chuuya is not your Chuuya anymore.

Always needs to know where you are and what you’re doing. He is very, very controlling. Is it because he is worried? Possessive? Obsessive?? No one knows. But he is, and it’s suffocating sometimes. You basically have no privacy. (It’s probably because he has trust issues that you’ll leave him at some point just like others ekhem Dazai )

“So, where are you going? Who will you be with?”

“….to a bar, with just some friends..?”

“Is that so? What friends? Actually, I’ll have some of my men go with you to be sure you’ll be fine.”

“……”

The beige flags

Whenever he spills the hot tea of the day in the mafia, you’re no longer “love, dear, doll or baby” etc. No, no, that’s when you become “dawg” or “bro” and you deal with it. He is not aware of it and you never tell him. You are dawg. That’s final.

Whenever he misplaces his belongings, the first thing he does is ask you “what did you do with my (insert item)?” It doesn’t matter what it is, his phone, his hat whatever, he thinks you took it.

When you guys go to bed he scoots closer and closer over the course of the night in order to cuddle you, except he always scoots a little too much and you always end up falling off the bed, and then when you try to get him to move back a little he will complain that it’s late and you should be sleeping instead of waking him up. (He is only half awake the whole time, forgive him for being a bitch)

— Tetchou

The green flags

He respects your boundaries. When you say no, it means no, and he understands.

He never flinches when you order something no sane person would eat. That's because he also does that. (It should be a red flag that his taste in food is horrendous, but he will never judge you sooo forgiven)

He always listens to you. He might not understand a thing you're talking about, or might not get why that thing is so exciting but he will listen, and agree with everything you say to show you he is interested and is paying attention.

The red flags

Puts his job above you. You always come second. He loves you, but if the job required him to break up with you, he would without a second thought. I’m sorry, justice above all.

He is lacking in emotional intelligence. He doesn't really know how to comfort you or empathize with you which leaves you to mostly deal with the emotional distress yourself.

Sleeps with his socks on during summer. Thats all, that’s the reddest flag.

The beige flags

Whenever he's hungry and you're not he will starve himself, because he refuses to eat when you're not eating. It makes him feel bad and you don’t get why.

Whenever you ask him a question he will answer without elaboration. —

"How was work?"

"Good. As usually."

— A man of few words, but you need him to spill the details, right now.

He can't use emojis. He thinks “🙄” is someone looking up, not an eye-roll. It makes texting more difficult than it should…

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd tetchou #tetchou x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #tetchou suehiro #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd fluff #bsd flags #bsd angst #bsd crack

1K notes · View notes

fandomhcs · 6 months

Text

dating frank castle would include:

frank castle doesn’t do anything half assed. that includes a relationship. you may have a hell of a time actually getting him into one, but once he is he’ll never waver.

he would struggle between being the punisher and being frank, the man who loves you. though he fully understands that you can that care of yourself, he wants to keep his life as the punisher far away from you. of course its not always possible, but he wants to keep you as safe he can. rest assured, as long as he’s there nothing can touch you. he’d stop anything, give up anything, to keep you safe.

losing maria and the kids changed him, broke him apart and forced him to scramble to gather any pieces he could. losing you now, after facing all of that loss and all that pain? no way he could handle that.

and so he’s overprotective, he’s paranoid, he’ll check and double check the locks on your windows and doors until you drag him to bed. while the two of you don’t leave the house together too often, when you do he makes sure to keep you no more than an arm’s length away at all times.

his paranoia is the biggest source of fights in your relationship. he isn’t one for conflict, despite being the punsiher and all. fighting with you is different, and he doesn’t like it when it happens. often times you’ll have it out with each other only for him to go quiet, swallow his pride and take some time to calm down before he can come talk out the problem with you.

but outside of the danger, when things are quiet and peaceful between the two of you there is no sweeter man than frank castle. he’s head over heels for you, it’s easy to see. in his eyes you are everything he never thought he’d have again. sure, he may not have the whole wife, kids, white fence type of life with you. he may never be ready for that, but being with you feels like coming home. it scares him how good it feels to have a place, a person, he can call home again.

movies nights and television marathons are a must. the second you are both home for the night he’ll wrap you up in his arms and drag you to the couch for cuddles. though he isn’t too big on pda, in the privacy of your home he just can’t help himself.

he lives for the small touches. holding your hand, forehead kisses, fingers grazing your shoulders as he passes by you. its a reminder, every time he feels your skin under his fingertips. a reminder that you are there, with him, safe and sound and alive.

you make him smile. force him to watch stupid comedies or over dramatic soap operas that you both get waaayy too invested in. he makes you try your coffee black, does the dishes for you before you get up in the mornings, keeps you trapped in his arms whenever you try to get up for food.

he cooks for you sometimes. a lovely surprise that comes out of nowhere. the big bad punisher? popping out with restaurant quality meals all because you’d had a shitty day at work and needed a pick-me-up? that’s art. he doesn’t cook often, but when he does it is magical.

though as far as your cooking, he’ll eat literally anything. you could burn it to coal and he’ll eat it with a smile. he might make fun of you for it, but you’ll see him finish his plate no matter what. he’s a dork like that.

you both whisper your secrets underneath warm sheets with one of his hands tapping a chaotic rhythm on your shoulder and the other gripping your fingers tight. he tells you their names. maria. lisa. frank jr. he tells you of their laughter, their toys, their lives. and he tells you of their deaths, tears spilling from his eyes as he breaks into your arms. your heart breaks with him, but being able to share them with someone who loves him, and by extension loves and respects them too, is such a weight off his shoulders.

they’re ghosts, but not the kind that haunt. the kind that leave your chest aching but also a soft smile on your face. they don’t plague him anymore, he is finally able to think of them without his world going dark. they’ll always be in his heart, he’ll never allow himself to forget them, but you help him realize that he can have happiness once again.

life is perfectly boring with frank, something he forgot just how much he’d missed. you bring peace into his life, even though he never wanted you to. but he’ll be forever grateful that you did. this man will love you with a passion and an intensity that you’ll find nowhere else.

that is, if you can handle his snoring.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #frank castle reader insert #hcs #dwi

282 notes · View notes

daddyricsdoll · 10 months

Text

Hate but I love you too ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: From when he ignored you then nearly kissed your lips. Or never said sorry to begging for you. Oliver was a rollercoaster of emotions and it's safe to say- It took hate to love him.

Warnings: Unprotected sex.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: Based off of a request. I'm sorry it took a while, quite a few things happened, but I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading this too! (did change a few things)

“Hey Ollie” I smile at him as we walk toward our karts that sit only metres away from the other. “What do you want?” He turns his head toward me with furrowed brows. “Oh, I-um just came to say hi and good luck.” I try my best to keep a smile on my face as he grimaces. “Ok then, thanks I guess.” He mumbles under his breath before quickening his pace and rushing to his kart.

It did hurt to watch him leave because of me, but it wasn’t the first time and it never made me stop from approaching him again. And just like the first time, it happened the next, he would always find a way out, but I found another in. I had questioned his actions and dislike toward me, but never got the answer, or maybe the one I was looking for at least. So after setting the goal of speaking to him every time we were in the same premises, I eventually lost it. Moving up into F4 and giving him a smile, then F3 and little glares.

F3 was an interesting time, it was when we started to only focus on racing, relationships later, whether it was friendships or romantically, we could all agree we had some struggles. And then came the part I thought would be my happy ending, but U-turned straight out.

But then came a experience for all of us drivers to experience what a lot of kids our age do. So then came a party with nearly all the drivers on the grid, hosted by a driver, so you could expect it to be on the spectrum toward chaotic. It happened to start light, small talk and grabbing another drink, before people loosened up and with that came party games. The truth or dare and spin the bottle.

My hand lightly shook as I grabbed the bottle in hand, trying to estimate which person it would point toward. Hoping it would be the British boy that sat across from me, and this time he wouldn't walk away.

Everyone's eyes stuck on the bottle and when it pointed in between two people I looked up to see it was Ollie and Jak. Everyone started shouting out their opinions of who it shall be before they all voted, and it was Ollie. I watched many emotions cross his face as we both leant forward and our lips inched closer to the other.

I stopped moving, waiting for him to make the next move, his lips were so close that I could feel his breath against my skin and I closed my eyes as I waited for him to close the gap. My lips curled into a smile as I was sure I would finally feel him. But instead of his lips ultimately against mine, I felt cold as I lost his presence and then his voice that refused to kiss me. “I can’t kiss her, we’re both rivals and it might ruin the race tomorrow.”

I don’t say anything, but sit back in the circle, at long last, accepting my defeat. I watched as some conflict arose, people telling Ollie it’s just a game and it doesn’t mean anything, but then he fought back claiming he wouldn’t kiss anyone in the circle, and then the game ended.

I found somewhere to sit in sorrow but also bliss, at how close his lips came to mine, but then how he left. I was alone for a short while before Arthur Leclerc approached me. He wasn’t even part of F3 this year but said “I could never miss out on a party.” and then sat beside me while enlightening me with his jokes and bad english. From there me and Arthur became close, while the tension between me and Ollie grew. I secretly schemed ways in my head to get Ollie back, make him feel the way I felt, make him regret something or tempt him with something, make it come so close then take it from him. There was no denying I wanted that thing to be me, and that’s what held my plan back.

The next year we both were signed into teams on the F2 grid, he had the opportunity to be with Prema racing and me with ART grand prix.

After Jeddah, our rivalry started to grow realising we were the top two drivers fighting for the win each race, me getting the victory first and him second. Then came up Australia, a track we were all new to, but it didn’t mean we wouldn’t try as hard.

I led the race with Ollie right behind me, fighting around corners and defending on straights. We had 3 more laps left as our tires started degrading drastically and our cars lost the power they had earlier in the race. Speeding down the main straight and reaching turn 1 Ollies tire clipped mine and we both spun into the gravel.

Furrowed brows under my helmet as I got out of my car that would’ve taken me to the top of the podium if it weren’t for Oliver Bearman. I put my steering wheel back in and smack the halo, needing something to take my anger out before walking away with clenched fists. Oliver stands still and stares at me as I aim to stride past him, but instead I land directly in front of him but don’t say a word. Our helmets would’ve touched if it weren’t for our heights and although my visor was still on I knew he understood the emotions that ran through me at that moment. We stayed like that for what felt like minutes until I walked away with a brush against his shoulder and hand.

Every race after that there was a stronger battle between both of us, it was either me or him that won, and those few times we didn’t, the bottom two on the podium had our names on it.

Just like last year, there was a party held, but this time we were in F2 and I wasn’t tailing after him.

Me and Arthur walked in together dressed impeccably and proud. We had a good season together and maybe letting loose at this “party” might make this season better.

Since everyone on the grid was here, it would be inevitable to see Oliver. Whether it’s a good or bad thing, I kind of do want to see him, especially since after that crash, I’ve never been better and he doesn’t enjoy being under me, so I’ll have a great time.

It barely took 5 minutes until Arthur found Oliver and started a conversation, while I stood with Arthur people congratulated me on having dominance over the season so far and I just waited till Oliver would say it too. And to my surprise it didn’t take long. “Oh um, congratulations.” I hear him mumble under his breath. “Sorry I didn’t catch that, can you say that again?” I ask him, hiding my smirk with a confused look.

He gives me an annoyed smirk, knowing wholly what I was trying to do. “Congratulations.” He quickly says and watches a smile curl on my lips before walking away with one too. Me and Arthur somehow separate and I find another one of my favourite people on the grid–Juan. I immediately laughed as the first words he said were an enlightening joke, and we sat at the table and talked, it felt so short but apparently it wasn’t.

I excused myself to the bathroom but not without a short interruption. “Nice boyfriend, since when?” The oh so recognisable accent drew me out of my stride.

“Oh, Oliver? I never knew you had an interest in people's personal lives.” I sarcastically joked, but I gained no reaction from him.

“I never knew you had an interest in people so low in the championship.”

“Unlike you Oliver, I actually know how to interact with people whether they are high or low in the championship because I know they won’t ruin my race even if we’re rivals.” I try to add some of his words from that night in F3 while taking a step closer toward him and most definitely getting in his personal space. He doesn’t attempt to move back into the wall that he already rests on, but instead looks down at me with concentrated eyes staring into mine.

“How do you interact with people? Oh please show me. Is it actions before words?” I knew exactly what he was asking for so I step on my tippy toes to stand taller and he lifts his head to look straight forward at me, I move my face closer to his, just like he did that night. I feel the ghost of his hand along my hips as my parted lips hover over his. I breathe against his skin and feel him try to move closer to me just before I break away and walk back into the main room.

Losing my need for the bathroom I walk back with a smirk and see the same one of Arthur’s faces. We both found a seat next to each other and laughed as I told him what happened. Arthur couldn’t get over it and started making fun of Ollie from across the table. Sending him air kisses and chuckles.

And just like I hoped this night did make the season more enjoyable.

I walked out of the Prema garage as we were 15 minutes till lights out and me and Arthur had just spent the morning being stupid together. We still couldn’t get over last night and Arthur was just waiting to see Ollie again, which was definite thanks to them being teammates. But as Ollie walked in, I had to leave. I sent him a teasing smile and he looked away with his signature furrowed brows.

We all got in our cars and lined up on the grid, me and Oliver sharing the front row. Once the lights went out Ollie kept the lead and I trailed behind him, keeping the gap close. Halfway through the race there was a yellow flag which lasted a few minutes before we were back to racing. The yellow flag closed the gap between both of us by a lot and now we were wheel to wheel.

I had the inside line so we both knew what was going to happen. But just like Australia, our cars collide and our race ends in seconds. I was most definitely filled with the same emotions as Australia but I knew hitting the halo wouldn’t ease them. I don’t dare to walk close or past Oliver so I take the long way around and stride straight to my driver's room. I don’t speak to anyone on the way there and slam the door once I arrive.

It hadn’t even been a minute until I received an unexpected knock on my door. Everyone knew that when I was angry, it was best to leave me alone unless you were certain that you could make me feel better. So when I got up to answer the door I was surprised to see Oliver. Before I could say a word, he beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” I stood there confused trying to process the words he had just told me. “I-I hit something and I couldn’t control my car, I think you hit it too and then we both…”

“And you think sorry will fix what just happened? For the second time!”

“No, I don’t think it will fix everything, but maybe if you accept the apology then things might change.”

“What happened? So you start talking to me, and now you learn manners! What happened to ignoring me and sending glares or not talking because I’d ruin your race or maybe you just never liked me!”

“A lot happened! And I don’t know how to explain it, but don’t act like I’m the only one that changed! What happened to the smiles you would give me before the race or when you would walk with me on the track?”

��You ignored it Oliver! You never showed an interest and you knew what you did that one night. You really hurt me Ollie.”

“Well then please, give me a chance to fix it. I regret everything I ever did or didn’t do.”

“And why do you want to fix it now Oliver?”

“I… I realised something. I realised that I really enjoyed when you would talk to me! And that the reason I ignored you before races was because you would infiltrate my mind during the race like you do every day and night! And I really wanted you- I still want you!”

“Fuck it.” I mutter under my breath as my hand grabs his and pulls it into my room and shutting the door right behind him. I had spent so long wondering what his lips would feel like, and now I know, they are the definition of paradise, my paradise. And his hands finally against my body did more than just touch my skin, they touched my mind and I tried to engrave the feeling into me. We broke the kiss and I looked into his eyes, irises being eaten by his pupils. Once my eyes landed on his neck, my lips did too. Placing hickeys all over his skin and moaning at the sound of his hushed groans.

“Is this what you wanted, Oliver?” I ask him against his skin. I don’t get words as an answer but little whines instead. My hands go to the top of his racing suit and I start unzipping it, soon pulling it down his body. Ollie starts to help me, mirroring my actions and seconds later we both stood in just our fireproofs. I couldn’t bear to still see him in clothes so my hands pulled his top off and my hands travelled along his unclothed chest.

“Come on Oliver, I’m not the one that has to fix this.” I mumble against his lips with a smirk. His hands then grip the back of my thighs and pull my body up against his. My legs wrap around his body like it’s not the first time and he lays me down on the small driver's bed.

“Is it too hard to finish what you started?” He whispers against my skin as he pulls my pants down my legs and they land on the ground. I sit up and lean forward to slide his pants down his legs so he can help ease the need between my legs. And once his pants sit next to mine, I have to clench my thighs together for at least some friction.

“Would you like to watch me finish what I started?” I ask and before I gain an answer I swap our positions, I replace my body on the bed with his and I stand in front of him. I barely give him any time to react as I crawl onto his lap. And then in seconds I lower onto his dick. Emitting a loud moan from his perfect lips, one that’s louder and longer than my own.

“I guess I’ll take first place again, on your list of best people you’ve fucked.”

“Fuck, oh, you’re the only one on the list.” He somehow manages to grit through his teeth. His words do something to me, and I start to work harder, his hips also coming to meet mine.

“Good, let’s keep it that way.” I occupy my lips with his and we capture each other’s moans. It didn’t take long until we were both moments away from coming, and it was like we had planned it together as we simultaneously came. I started riding both of our highs out until he grabbed my body again and flipped us over.

My back hit the soft bed and his hands slid along my hips as he started ramming into me. My whole body moved and it was something I didn’t expect from Oliver, but luckily I now enjoy the unexpected. We both cursed under our breath and out loud as our second climax was inching closer. I clenched around his dick and traced the delicacy of his body as I let myself feel everything that he was giving to me.

His eyes that remind me of autumn glint down into mine before I have to shut my eyes as my back arches and I cum onto his dick for the second time. I wait for the disparate feeling of him releasing in me again and whine when it finally happens.

He then lets out a long sigh and lays down onto me, body enveloping mine as he stays inside of me. “This was more than what I wanted.” He breathes out and then lays beside me, resulting in feeling the emptiness between my legs but oh so satisfied.

“Have I fixed what was broken?” He asked me.

“Maybe, but this is the first step.” I turn toward him and smile before he smiles back. This was more than I hoped and certainly more than I expected. So to sum it up, Ollie is many things and emotions, maybe I had to go through the dislike to savour and realise how much the like is worth. So Oliver, you made me want to stab you, but heal your wounds. Drown you, but part the ocean so you can walk through. You made me hate you, but love you too.

#ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman #ollie bearman smut #f2 fanfic #f2 fluff #f2 fic #f2 smut #f2 #oliver bearman #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #prema racing

438 notes · View notes

trippinsorrows · 4 months

Text

with me + part six

authors note: i'm very sorry in advance for how this ends, it was just getting wayyyy too long, and there was no good place to slice it in half, so i cut it before shit unfolds, so yes please don't hate me!!!

pairing: roman reigns x black!reader

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive dialogue, angst

song inspo: ‘with me’ by destiny’s child

words: 6.5k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“Whoa.”

Mariah’s reaction is expected. Your living room, specifically the sofa, is occupied by several of Callie’s dolls. A tea party that you were so kindly invited to attend this morning.

“Girl, you should see her playroom. Pretty soon the floor is going to be non-visible.”

A small part of you regrets not trying to straighten up before Mariah came over, but this is also your literal best friend. You know she’s seen more than almost anyone else in your life, and she would never judge you, let alone over the state of your apartment when she has a child of her own.

Mariah looks over at you with a raised brow. “He did all this?” You nod. “Why?”

“Because she’s his little girl and of course he’s going to spoil her. A quote.” You chuckle as you and Mariah decide to just sit at the kitchen island. It’s probably best to leave the dolls untouched as Callie’s likely to wake up from her nap wanting to play again.

Mariah gives you a look. “You don’t find that weird?”

Confused, you ask, “what?”

Mariah shrugs and circles the top of her water bottle with her index finger. “I don’t know. He just found out about her, and now he’s buying her stuff? Seems like he’s trying to buy her love.”

“You don’t know Joe.” It’s an easy dismissal, because you do know him and know that’s the last thing on his mind. “That’s not him at all. He just wants to see her happy.”

Mariah looks unfazed and stands ten toes down, adding on, “then he should be here full time instead of randomly popping in.” You just look at her, slightly confused where this is coming from. “I mean, I’m happy she’s getting to know him, but this is all so messy, you know? He’s married. He has a wife, and he’s coming here seeing his secret child with his secret mistress.”

You can only look at her, stunned by her words, even if a small part of you knows there’s some element of truth. Joe swiftly dodged the only question you’ve asked about how and when he’s going to tell his wife about Callie. It was a valid question that deserved an answer. But the things Mariah is saying, you can’t tell if it angers you because it’s not true or hurts you because it is.

She seems to detect your conflicted emotions and reaches over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be negative. I just remember how hard it was for you when you and Joe broke up the first time. I hated seeing you so hurt.”

“We’re not together, Mariah. We’re coparenting.” You hate how soft your voice is, giving away that her words now have your head spinning.

“So you honestly mean to tell me that you have no feelings for him? None whatsoever.” You can’t give her an answer, or either refuse to. It’s another valid question but the answer isn’t as simple for you to express. You know you feel something for Joe, but that could just be because of the fact that you two share a child together. There has to be some type of emotional connection between any two people who create life. “Exactly. Just be careful. He broke your heart once before. Don’t let him do it again.”

Your feelings are so mixed, agreeing with certain aspects of what’s being said and disagreeing with others. Mariah has triggered some big thoughts, ones that you probably should sort through at some point. You’re just not eager for right now to be that moment.

“Enough about me, what’s been going on with you?”

You pray she knows you well enough to know that you’re desperate to change the subject. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like we haven’t spoken much lately, and I know that’s partially on me. It’s just been a lot on my end, I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “It’s cool.”

Something tells you that she’s just saying that, and there’s a level of bitterness towards you for the distance. But, you can’t allow yourself to be hurt by that, because it’s fair. Mariah has been too good of a friend to be ditched the minute your ex comes back around.

‘How are things with Caleb? Are you guys getting along any better?” Caleb and Mariah have only been married for two years but have already hit a rough patch, enough where he’s temporarily moved out of the house. Last you spoke with her, they were supposed to meet up to discuss what they were going to do, especially for the sake of Miach.

“Did you see him at my place last time you were there?” Her response is all you need to know that that is still a sensitive spot for her as well. Understandably so, but her shut down is so cold and unlike the sweet, gentle friend you’ve always known her to be. You were always known as the outspoken, brutal friend, though it seems that maybe as the years go by, the roles are reversing.

Unless there's something else at play.

—-------

Today is going to be a good day.

For Callie at least.

Your earlier conversation with Mariah, who seemed far too eager to leave when you mentioned Joe would be arriving in less than two hours, is still circulating in your head. You know she’s only trying to look out for you, and you’re very appreciative of that, but there was some undertone to the way she spoke to you that you can’t shake off. Like, it wasn’t coming just from a place of concern, but something else that didn’t seem as genuine.

“Mommy, why are we cleaning?”

Because mommy is too broke for a maid.

You instead settle on the answer, “because we want our home nice and clean, baby.”

“But, it is clean.” She’s not entirely wrong, it’s just every so often you like to deep clean, dusting, mopping, the extra shit that usually isn’t done with daily cleaning.

Taking a break from wiping down your kitchen counters with some overpriced cleaner you picked up from Target, you see Callie is ready to be done, the dust rag you’d given here now sitting on the coffee table.

With a heavy sigh, you ask, “you wanna play, don’t you?” Her eyes widen and her head nods enthusiastically. A quick glance at the clock indicates that Joe should be knocking at your door any minute, so you try to buy some more time. “Alright, let mommy finish here, and I’ll come play with you.”

“Yay!”

Chuckling, you listen to the sound of her run in the direction of her playroom while you finish scrubbing the counters, even if they’re as clean as they can get. It’s most likely a result of all the overthinking you’ve done the past few hours. The older you get, the more you realize you’ve become that ‘i’m anxious, so let’s clean until we’re physically exhausted’ mom. Which, technically, isn’t a horrible thing, but it’s also probably not the best way to deal with your emotions.

Not that you’ve always been the best with that either.

And that’s when you hear it, the solid two knocks you’ve been waiting for all morning.

Smiling, you call out for Callie who marches out seconds later with a doll in her hand. “You wanna see who’s at the door for mommy?” Callie looks rightfully confused. At the same time you taught her how to open, close, and lock the door because you never know what can happen, you stressed to her that she is to never open it without permission or unless during an emergency. So, you emphasize, “it’s okay.”

Shrugging, she skips, literally skips to the door. You chuckle. This kid has so much damn personality. Moving to the sink to rinse your hands, you move slowly, waiting for it.

A loud gasp. “Joe!”

You can mentally picture the absolute surprise and happiness splashed over her little face. Grabbing the towel to dry your hands, Joe walks in holding Callie who you haven’t seen look so happy since the last time Joe was in town.

“Mommy, Joe’s here!”

Kids announcing the most obvious things will always be hilarious. “He sure is.” Leaning against the counter, you focus on him. “Hey.” He looks good, but he always looks good. That was always the damn problem.

He takes in you for a second, eyes lingering longer than what’s probably necessary, “hey.” He easily returns his attention back to Callie who can’t seem to stop smiling, which makes you smile. You love seeing her so happy. "I missed you."

"I missed you too!" She glances over at you, partially contrite. “Mommy, I’m gonna play with Joe instead, okay?”

You pretend to be shocked, standing upright and crossing your arms and making a face before laughing, waving her off.

“That’s fine, baby, because I am going to take a nap.” It’s much needed. Your sleep has been kinda shitty lately, and you know yourself well enough to know that exhaustion makes you bitchy. And the last thing you want is to unintentionally take that bitchiness out on her. Even Joe. Walking up to them, you poke him in his stomach. Jesus, he’s ripped. “Help yourself to anything. Just make sure she doesn’t destroy my house, please. And make her clean.”

At that, her face sours, and Joe chuckles.

“You got it.”

Satisfied, you walk back into your room, deciding to close the door. Callie will absolutely welcome herself in if need be. Plopping down on the mattress, you stare up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, momentarily stopping yourself from closing your eyes. For a second, you forget that Callie is not alone and unattended, thus preventing you from sleeping.

Call it being an anxious, overprotective parent, you’ve never allowed yourself to nap when it’s just the two of you. Even when she’s asleep, and when you do, you set an alarm to wake you up every ten minutes, just to make sure she’s still knocked out. It makes taking time to rest pretty difficult, if not impossible, but it’s what makes you comfortable.

It’s an easy sacrifice to make for your child.

So having another adult around, her dad, of all people, is a nice feeling. You know she’s safe and watched over. And it’s what allows you to actually fall into a peaceful slumber.

Just for a little bit.

—-------

It is, in fact, just for a little bit.

Because you’re awoken by your phone ringing, your mom on the other end wondering what time she can expect you and Callie to come over.

Shit.

You completely forget that you’d agreed to bring Callie to see her as it’d been “too long," according to her. You partially agreed, realizing you haven’t visited your mom since the day everything went down, what with you reaching out to Joe again and that whole fiasco.

And that’s another thing.

Your mother has no idea he’s back in the picture.

Walking out of the room, you find them in the living room, of course, watching Toy Story 2.

Callie’s eyes light up when she sees you, but that doesn’t pull her from her position, tucked right under Joe’s side on your sofa. If you had your phone, you’d try to snap a picture.

“That wasn’t long,” he snickers, and you glare, stopping yourself from flipping him off.

You move over to the sofa, sitting on the armrest. “That’s cause my mom called and woke me up.”

“Grandma?”

Nodding, you explain to both Callie and Joe. “I forgot we were supposed to go visit her today.”

She moves up on her knees, asking, “can we go?” She looks over at Joe. “Joe can come with us!”

You consider her suggestion. Your mom didn’t even find out about Joe until you told her you were pregnant. You kept that part of your life a secret from her for good reasons. This doesn’t seem like the best way for her to find out, to drop it on her yet again. However, one look at Callie’s desperate expression, and you already know your answer.

“Of course,” you then add on, “if he wants to.”

Callie, being Callie, answers for him. “He wants to!” She tugs on his sleeve, excitement bubbling. “You can meet my grandma!”

You glance over at him, “are you sure? I’m sorry, I know this was supposed to be one on one with her….”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “If she wants to go, let’s go.”

You nod, praying this doesn’t end up being a bad idea.

—-------

“Mama!” You call out, watching Joe shut and lock the door behind him. Seeing that allows you to focus on where the hell your mother is. She usually meets you at the door when she knows you’re coming over. “Where is this woman?”

The car drive was pleasant enough, Callie talking almost the entire time, as expected. And Joe eating it up the whole time, also, as expected.

You can see now he’s definitely going to be that dad. The dad who finds anything and everything his kid does to be adorable. You can’t wait for him to be on the receiving end of one of Callie’s temper tantrums and see how he handles it.

“Grandma!” Callie suddenly calls, all the while keeping her hand in Joe’s. “I’m here!”

Finally, the sound of footsteps from upstairs as your mom comes down the stairs, home phone, yes, a home phone, held between her ear and shoulder. “I told her Bishop wasn’t gonna go for that, but you know how she is. Old fool.” It’s when she’s in the vicinity to see that it’s not just you and Callie, her eyes grow wide. “Cheryl, let me call you back.”

Damn.

You know that tone, that ‘let me talk to you’ tone.

Thankfully, you get a brief save. The sight of your mom makes Callie drop Joe’s hand to sprint off to meet her on the steps. “Grandma!”

She leans down to pick up Callie, smothering her with kisses. “My favorite little lady.”

Callie giggles as your mom descends from the steps, Callie on her hip, to approach you and Joe who’d, wisely, remained quiet up until this point.

You watch your mom’s eyes land on him, but before she can say anything, Callie jumps in.

“Grandma, this is Joe! He’s mommy’s friend and mine too!”

Fuck. Your mom’s eyes travel between him and Callie, once, twice, and on the third time, you know. You just know that she knows.

And that’s when you jump in, knowing you desperately need to speak with her. “Callie, why don’t you show Joe the play area?”

Her eyes blaze with enthusiasm as your mom places her back on the ground. Callie’s little feet carry her back over to Joe who seems to understand you need to talk with your mother.

“Come on!” Taking his hand, she begins to direct him to the back of the house and through the sliding door.

Your mom waits until she knows the two of you are alone to speak. “Girl, you done got my blood pressure all up.”

“Mama—”

“That’s Callie’s daddy, ain’t it?” She doesn’t even give you time to answer. “Don’t try to lie, either. She looks just like him.”

There’s no need in denying the obvious. “Yes.”

Her mouth drops open in rightful shock. “And just when did you plan to tell me he was back in the picture?” The questions keep coming, understandably so considering how you’ve just dropped this on her. “And why is she calling him by his first name?”

“Because she doesn't know,” you answer the second question, hating the disappointed look on her face. “We–he hasn’t told her yet.”

“It just keeps getting worse.” She’s rubbing her temple and you just know she’s gonna need to take an Excedrin before the night is over. “Tell me everything. Now.”

And so, you do, starting with Callie’s initial question about her dad, to your phone call with Joe, his visit where he confirmed he had a daughter, all of it. And when you’re done, your mom is visibly shaken.

“Lord, he found out about her through social media?” You still feel badly about that, about a lot of it. “Well….does his wife know?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. We haven’t really talked about that yet.” Before your mom can protest, you add, “we will. I’ll make sure of it. He just wants to get to know her first. For himself.”

Your mom chuckles, obviously having studied the close interaction between the two of them in the few minutes she’s been privy to see them engage with one another. “seems like that’s already a done deal.”

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “He’s really good with her.”

And it’s the truth, Joe seems to be naturally good with a lot of things, but there’s something so impressive about his ability to interact and connect with Callie. It’s so natural.

“So, are you two…..”

“No,” you shut that down immediately. “We’re just trying to navigate coparenting.”

Your mom nods but doesn’t say anything, and you know her well enough to know it’s because she doesn’t entirely believe you. But, she won’t push.

“Well.” She claps her hands together, nodding to the backdoor. “Let me go properly introduce myself, since you got me out here looking rude. Probably got that boy thinking I don’t like him.”

“I promise, he’s not like that.” You two start walking toward the backyard where you’re certain Callie is talking a hole in his head, describing the play area your mom put together just for her when she spends the night.

She places her hand on the sliding door but pauses to look at you, “let me just say this though, that is one fine young man. I see now why you had a hard time letting him go. The devil sure knows how to tempt people.”

“Mama!” You try to suppress your laughter as the two of you walk out, sure enough to find Callie on the swing, Joe pushing her as they share their own conversation.

She walks up to him, wearing a warm smile, giving a wink to Callie. “I’m so sorry about that. My daughter just didn’t tell me you were gonna be here.”

Joe, forever respectful, starts to indirectly apologize. “I hope it's not a problem. If so, I can—”

She waves him off, “oh, hush.” She leans in to whisper, “you’re practically family.” He returns her smile as she introduces herself by name, he offers his, and your wonderful mother then informs, “well, this one is gonna help me tend to my garden, cause winter will be here before we know it.” She leans down and kisses the top of Callie’s head, as she’s stopped swinging and is instead sitting. Her eyes light up at the idea of gardening with your mom. The same way you used to garden with your grandma. A bit of a tradition being passed down. “And in the meantime, you two can go finish organizing the office.”

Your eyes widen. No wonder she didn’t hear you all coming in right away. That room, once your bedroom, became your mom’s storage area and over the years has accumulated stuff on top of stuff. Nowhere near a hoarding level, but just a lot of things that she doesn’t want to part with but needs to organize. “Mama, that's not—”

“I don't want to hear no complaining. You really want me up on that ladder?” You roll your eyes, realizing she’s referring to the top of your old closet where she keeps the storage bins of memorabilia, mostly photos. “I'm not getting any younger. What if I fall? Then you gon feel bad.”

“You're so dramatic.” Your mom acts like she's 75 and at death's door sometimes. The woman is 52 and teaches a Zumba class at the rec center every Saturday. She could fall and jump right back up like nothing happened.

She places her hand on Joe’s arm, smiling slyly. “You got this strong, handsome man to help you out.” One thing you’ve learned as you’ve gotten older is that your tendency to unintentionally flirt from time to time 100% came from your mother. Clearly. “Besides, if you do fall, you'll be fine. You got enough booty back there to cushion it.”

“Mama!” One glance at Joe, and you see him make a face that reads clearly 'she's not entirely wrong.’ At that, you shove him, not that it does anything. He's solid as a rock. “Fine, we'll organize your mess, but not for long. Joe is only in town until tomorrow night, and he did not come here to be a part of your cleaning crew.”

“I don’t mind,” Joe adds. Of course, he doesn't. He hasn’t seen it yet, and he’s a gentleman. “Whatever you need help with, I’ll do it.”

Your mom gives you another look and then looks at him. “I like you, Joseph.”

Callie lifts her head, adding, “I like him too!”

I like him too.

“Well, get to it. When we’re done, ya’ll can help me fix some dinner.” Her eyes then land on you. “Well, not you. You can make the lemonade or something.”

Joe coughs awkwardly, poorly hiding his laughter. “I’m getting really sick of ya’ll coming for me and my poor cooking skills.”'

Your mom directs Callie to grab her caddy with their needed gardening supplies. “Baby, you are a lot of things, but a cook ain’t one of them.” She points at Joe, sharing, “remind me to tell you the story about how she almost burned down my house.”

“Okay, we’re gonna go now.” You grab Joe’s hand and lead him back into the house toward the stairs, which he motions for you to go up first, realizing after the fact that he probably did so to stare at your ass.

This man….

Entering your former bedroom, you stretch your arm to show you just what you signed up for. He walks in, clearly surprised. “Okay.”

“Yup.” There’s items scattered all over, your mom clearly in the middle of trying to categorize the millions of family photos ya’ll have. “Still don’t mind?”

He shrugs forever unbothered. “There’s two of us. We’ll get it done.”

Sucking your teeth, you look around, trying to figure out where the hell to start. “Your optimism is annoying.”

Chuckling, his smartass remarks, “Glass half full, baby. Glass half full.”

“Yeah, yeah, well glass your ass over there and reach me the ladder. I need the box these pictures can go in from the top.”

He follows where you’re pointing but also gestures to the closet. “That one?” Joe makes a sound and instead of following your directions, casually walks over to said closet, reaches up and grabs the box with all the ease of someone who’s 6’3.

Smug expression on his face, he hands it to you as you glare. “Show off.”

Joe assesses you, eyes settling on your chest before redirecting them to your face. “Maybe I should have let you get up there. View and all.”

Holding back your smile is difficult, so you settle for biting on your bottom lip and bumping his side as you move past him. “Shut up.” You know his gaze is on you and that should bother you, his flirty comment should bother you, but it doesn’t.

It doesn’t at all.

—-------

“I still can’t believe you were a cheerleader.”

There’s probably been a decent combination of conversation and organization in your time working together to ‘unmess’ your mom’s mess. That’s not entirely surprising though. Joe has always been immensely easy to talk to, to be around. And you couldn’t deny that you missed this kind of interaction with him, the most and maybe first since he’s re-entered your life. You wholly understand why he spends and devotes most of his time with Callie, but there’s a small part of you that’s missed this.

Missed it being just the two of you.

Chuckling, you comment, “you’re not the first. I was….different in high school and college than I am now.”

He’s intrigued, asking, “how?”

“Well, for one, I don’t party damn near every night anymore.” One thing you could never deny about your early days was that you always liked to have a good time, liked to make your expected appearances at whatever party of the week, or day, was happening. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t drink or smoke. That was never my thing. I just….I liked to have fun, probably too much fun more often than not.” You chuckle to yourself, grabbing a stack of photos to put in the container. “Now, I like to be in bed by 9:30, 10 at the latest.”

He smiles and looks over at the wall that still has many of your cheer accolades proudly displayed. “Obviously, you were pretty damn good.”

Shrugging, you push some of your hair behind your ear. Not that it does much. Your curls have always been voluminous and wild. “I was, but….it came at a cost to some extent. Cheer is insanely competitive, and I didn’t always handle that the best.”

Competitiveness was something you deeply struggled with when you were younger. Feeling like you had to be the best, not even better than anyone else per se, but the best that you could be. Always trying to prove that you were good enough.

Looking back now, you have a solid guess of where that came from and what drove it.

Joe’s studying you, trying to gauge your comfort level with this conversation. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” you answer, honestly. “Until I didn’t. Shortly before college, I think, is when the love started to fade.”

“But you cheered in college too, didn’t you?”

You nod, explaining, “I got a scholarship for cheer, and I wasn’t about to put that stress on my mom to have her help me figure out how to pay for school when I had an easy ride.” Around that time is when your relationship with your mom started to strengthen, and the last thing you wanted to do was risk messing it back up by being selfish. You’d cheered damn near your whole life, what was another 4 years?

“I like your mom,” he announces, almost suddenly. It’s unsurprising. Most people do. But, there is something that pleases you about her tentative approval of him and now his of her.

“She’s really great. I don’t know what I would do without her, and Callie adores her.” You look over at him, playfully. “Not as much as she adores you, though.”

You can see the delight in his eyes. “Yeah?”

His disbelief surprises you. How can he not see how crazy Callie is over him? “Are you kidding me? That lil girl already doesn’t shut up, but she really doesn’t shut up about you. It’s Joe this, Joe that. The first thing she asks me when I pick her up from school is always if she can call you.” Deciding this is a perfect segue, you add on, carefully. “You know….you should tell her. I can promise you, she won’t be upset. She’s gonna be thrilled.”

She already loves you.

You don’t know if it’s too soon to say that, if it’s something you should even say vs let him hear from Callie herself. You just know that there’s probably very little he could do at this point to make Callie not love him. She’s hooked.

“Christmas,” he announces, adding, “I’ll tell her when I come back for Christmas.”

This surprises you, as he hasn’t discussed his next visit up until this point. You also don’t feel the need to comment or counter his plan and timeline to tell Callie. You can’t think of a better Christmas gift for her. “You got the time off?”

He nods, providing specifics. “I’ll be here the day before Christmas Eve. Gotta fly back out on the 26th though.”

“Stay with us.” Where this comes from, you’re not sure, but there’s not a lot of regret once it's released. “I know you hate that damn hotel, and Callie would be thrilled to have you around 24/7.” Getting up off the floor, you carry the now filled container and move up the ladder you’d used a couple times because he’d been preoccupied organizing other areas. Sliding it back in the same spot, you descend down the steps only to feel strong hands grip your waist.

Bringing you to the ground, he carefully turns you around, but that’s not what you’re focused on. What you’re focused on is how close he is to you, your chests nearly touching, his eyes burning into you. Instantly, your stomach is knotting. You know that look, know it all too well.

“Joe….” Your voice is soft, much softer than it needs to be when trying to assert yourself. And you hate yourself for the tiny sigh that leaves your mouth when he brings his palm to your cheek. “We—we can’t—”

“I’m divorced.”

This man, so fine and kind, and damn near pressed against you is distracting, so much so that you’re briefly disconnected from what he’s just said. But, it’s forcing yourself to come back to reality that his words truly hit you. You’re not sure you could have ever guessed that statement would ever leave his mouth.

Slightly in shock, staring at him with bewilderment, you stammer, “w–what?”

“Two months ago, Jadah and I filed for divorce. It was uncontested, and the state of Florida is one of the quickest when it comes to processing these things.” His other hand moves to your hip, holding you still, as if he knows you want to move away from him. “I got notice it was finalized a few days ago.”

You’re listening, you really are, but hearing is another story. This has to be some type of sick joke, some type of cruel prank ripped directly out the pages of a journal kept and maintained so long ago. Cause you’d absolutely written about this at one point, written about what it would be like if he were to leave his wife.

You just never could have anticipated it would one day become a reality.

“I—I don’t understand.” Joe only found out about Callie less than a month ago, so there’s no way she was the reason for the split. Still, you have to ask. “Wh–why?”

Something flashes in his eyes. Hurt. “It was long overdue.” He doesn’t say anything beyond that, and while you expected more, you can also see there’s more to the story. More that he’s not saying, but it’s the brief glimpse of pain that prevents you from pushing. Whatever it is, it’s clearly difficult for him to discuss.

“Oh.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but you’re truly in a state of shock and don’t know what else to say.

The biggest and only issue that ever existed between yourself and Joe has always been his marriage, the fact that he was already taken. It was the only reason you ever broke it off with him, but now, he’s standing before you, telling you that this is no longer the case.

You’re all of the emotions: confused, nervous, happy, hopeful, and so many more that you can’t even label.

“I didn’t say anything at first, because meeting Callie was my priority. Establishing a relationship with her was a priority. And it still is, but…..” Your eyes shut as he drops his head in the crook of your neck. “I’ve missed you.” Your hands gradually lift to lay against his chest as he sighs into you, ‘I’ve missed everything about you.” Eyes remaining shut, your nails claw gently against him as he moves his mouth over your neck. “The way you smile, the way you laugh.” His hand on your back slowly inches downward. “The way you taste.” Your breath catches as his teeth graze your collarbone. “The way you feel when I’m inside you.”

“Joe,” you breathe, the air suddenly thick, your throat tight. Breathing is incredibly arduous in this moment. “I—”

“Mommy! Joe!”

Joe’s suddenly across the damn room, it seems like, as Callie enters at both the perfect and worst time with a smile, completely oblivious to what she’s just interrupted. “Grandma said come eat!”

Frowning, you glance at the clock and realize it’s most definitely dinner time and that your mom had most likely just had Callie help her prepare the meal instead of asking you two to help.

Huh.

She moves across the room, tackling Joe from the side and craning up her head as she excitedly asks, “Wanna see what I made? Grandma helped me!”

Leaning down to pick her up, he answers, “of course, I wanna see.” He begins to walk out the door as Callie calls out for you to follow behind.

And you will.

You just need a moment.

Because what the hell just happened?

—-------

I’m divorced.

It keeps playing in your head, on a vicious repeating cycle, like that annoying song the radio plays every 15 minutes, forcing it down your throat.

For almost the entire time you were together, you infrequently allowed yourself to dream about what your life would be like if the circumstances were different, if he wasn’t already taken. If he wasn’t already married. And each time only left you feeling worse than before, because it was stupid. You were three years deep into the situationship; if he hadn’t left his wife by then, he wasn’t leaving her period.

It was a harsh pill that took you forever to swallow.

And even then, you knew that you could never be happy. Not with the knowledge that he’d left his wife for you. It may be bliss initially, but the guilt would have eaten you up and ruined things regardless.

So accepting and telling yourself that it would never work out long-term was what kept your head above water, especially in the two months after you broke things off. And once you learned you were pregnant with Callie, there was a new kind of stress, a new kind of distraction.

Not that it made you forget about him. Hardly.

Every check up, every milestone, every kick, your mind would wander to him. Wander to a fantasy world where you imagined he was with you every step of the way, the two of you preparing together for the arrival of your first child.

Even as the years went on and Callie got older, you still would find yourself from time to time imagining how different things would be if he was around.

Well, now he is. He’s not only around, but he’s going to be actively involved in Callie’s life for the rest of her life.

And he’s now single.

All of this makes for one fucked up emotional rollercoaster ride.

Dinner is an experience, only for you, maybe Joe to some extent. He’s always had a tendency to compartmentalize emotions though, unlike yourself. Granted, if it was a struggle for him, he did a damn good job not showing it. It also probably helped a ton that Callie talked a hole in his and your mom’s head.

You knew your mom could see something was up with you but graciously opted to not ask you any questions. You wouldn’t have any answers to give her anyway.

And you indicated as much when you were back at your apartment, and Callie in her room gathering her favorite pajamas for bed.

“I just need time to think.”

It’s all you can offer him, because it’s the truth. There’s so much more to consider than you could have imagined, and it’s really hard to contemplate when you still have Mariah’s voice oscillating in the back of your mind, your insecurities, and even your mom.

So many differing perspectives, it’s hard to focus and hear your own.

Thankfully, he accepts that answer, and you accept that you’re running out of different ways to escape confronting your own emotions.

Maybe.

Because this day has already been exceedingly long, and you’re more emotionally exhausted than anything. So when Callie comes to you complaining of a tummy ache, you administer her Children’s Tylenol, lay with her until she falls asleep, and take advantage of this rare opportunity to turn your brain off and just rest.

The hard shit could wait.

—-------

“Mommy!”

There's a certain tone every person has that's reserved for emergencies, saved for moments when something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

This is one of those moments.

You nearly trip with how quickly you jump out the bed and sprint down the hall to Callie’s room. Hitting the light switch, your stomach drops when you see her.

On her side, in a fetal position, crying profusely.

Rushing over to her, you see too that she's pale and a hand to her forehead reveals she's burning up. Sheer panic climbs up your body, settling into your stomach and the back of your throat. Still, you do your best to not show her your fear.

“Baby, is it your tummy?” You take a hand to feel her stomach, but she screams out in pain, making you jump from her reaction.

“Mommy, it hurts,” she sobs, and you're instantly moving the blankets off her, already knowing what you need to do.

Hand on her forehead, you assure, “I’lll be right back, okay?”

You rush back into your room, sliding on the first pair of shoes that you come across. You grab your phone off the nightstand and throw it in your purse, all in under a minute, still too long. And as soon as you're back in her room, you waste no time in lifting her into your arms.

She winces, so you reassure, “come on, baby. It's okay, you're gonna be okay.”

It's what you're telling yourself, the only thing keeping you from panicking. Unsure and uncaring at this moment if you lock the front door behind you, you carry her down the steps and into the dark of night, carefully but quickly buckling her into her carseat.

Hating to see her continue to cry, to be in pain, you kiss her forehead, “I’m gonna get you some help, okay? We're going to the hospital.”

She can only nod, and your eyes water. Your forever talkative child is rendered speechless by her pain. It crushes you.

Hopping into the driver's seat, you grab your phone, trembling fingers locating the address of the hospital. You hit share and send it to Joe before pressing the call button and tossing your phone into the passenger seat to zoom out of the parking lot.

Your phone is connected to your vehicle, ringing three times before he picks up, voice heavy with sleep. “Hey.”

“I need you to meet me at the hospital. I already sent you the address.” You do your best to remain calm and collected, to not scare Callie more than she's already scared. Even if you’re fucking terrified. “Something is wrong with Calista.”

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #wwe #roman reigns x black!oc #arisnotebook

169 notes · View notes