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#figure this is worth a try and if it doesn't work out i can always being the hot-rodder back here
decidentia · 7 months
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Thanks to everyone who voted in the poll. ♡ The result was almost 50/50, so I’ve followed my gut and given Royce his own blog. If you’re interested in interacting with him, give this post a like or drop me a DM and I’ll follow you from there.
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agueforts · 3 months
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yet another stream of consciousness post about how i'm doing nothing with my life and it #sux or whatever
#aspen tag#it's kind of. well. i don't know how to start this off without feeling self-aggrandizing#because as true as it is that a lot of my ego roots in intelligence it's not actually the point rn. it's barely even a part of it#like. achievement doesn't come from talent. achievement doesn't even necessarily come from skill at all#achievement comes from motivation. from meaining. from something being worth doing#and. idk. i'm a thinker. my mind's always moving towards something. there's a stream of thoughts and it never stops flowing#and it's just. i mean. i LIKE thinking for the sake of thinking. i really do#i like working things out in my head and looking stuff over just to get a better picture and doing it just because it's there and i can#but none of it is going anywhere. and i'd like to be going somewhere#the thing about falling out of habits is that they become absences so easily#and it sneaks up on you. all the things in your life that are now not#i like learning and creating and puzzling through something. i like trying new things in new ways and figuring it out as i go#i like diving headfirst into whatever i happen to be working on and just living in there for a while#i like a challenge and i like investing myself and i like engaging and complex and FUN#and i don't. do anything with that anymore#i don't have hobbies. i don't get out of the house. i don't really put passion towards anything regardless of if it's there for me to have#and it's not about wasted potential. it's not about having the skill or the aptitude or the resources or any of that shit#it's about how i LIKE doing it‚ and i'm not. that's the point. that's the problem#it's just. draining. to feel like nothing in your head ever makes it into the world#if there was ever a throughline in my dissatisfaction it'd be insignificance#i have an untapped well of myself i'd so eagerly apply if i had a door or a key or any way to get it where it needs to go#but i don't. none of it seems to move anything#i don't know. i'm tired. that's all of it. distilled down into a pair of words far too simple for the weight they carry#well-worn track in the surface of my mind. every passing day the grooves deepen#and there could be a path outside of it. but i don't know how to make one#i don't know how to start. and isn't that every problem i've ever had in a nutshell#adhd! it's fantastic. i'm going nowhere and i've been going there for a long fucking while#and as far as i can tell i'll be going there for another while yet.#i guess that's all there is to it. or at least as much as i've got. i'm tired of being tired and i don't know where that leads me#but it doesn't really seem like i'm doing anything worth losing. so i might as well just let it do what it does
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malusokay · 11 months
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becoming a better student ₊˚⊹♡
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Prepare for your classes ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Wake up on time. We don't want to be stressed first thing in the morning, right?
Eat breakfast. So you will be able to better focus in class.
Assigned reading and homework. Make sure you are prepared for your classes!! :)
Review your notes. Going through some of your flashcards before class is really helpful.
Check your bag and charge your devices. Ensure you have everything you need: Books, homework, chargers, pens, water...
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In Class ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Listen and pay attention. You can save yourself a lot of trouble by simply paying attention, trust me.
Take notes. My favourite note-taking method is the Cornell method; I can make a separate post on that!! <3
"Quick notes." If you struggle with note-taking, try taking quick and messy notes. You can clean them up once you get home!!
Engage. If you have any questions or don't understand something, make sure to ask!! Most teachers really appreciate students who speak up. :)
No distractions. Turn off your phone, no chatting, you'll be glad...
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After class ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Finish your assignments as soon as you can. Go home, put on a cosy outfit, have a snack, and get working!! <3
Prepare flash cards. A great way of reviewing your notes, too... :)
Update your Study schedule. Write down any assignment and due dates, reading you must do, upcoming tests, etc...
Clean up your notes. Review them, highlight the important parts, and maybe even make them look cute!! :)
Don't avoid topics/Subjects you dislike. I know it is tempting, but you can't avoid them forever, so you might as well get them done
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Structure and routine ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Goals and Priorities. Keep them realistic and manageable.
Time management. Having a set schedule makes studying less overwhelming; it takes some discipline but is so worth it!! <3
Develop a routine. Figure out what works best for you; I prefer studying in the morning or at night.
No "zero days". Even if you can only do a bit, do it!! NO. ZERO. DAYS.
Remember your goals. Dreams will keep you motivated; remind yourself of what you're working for!! <3
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Self-care and balance ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Don't forget about your hobbies. You need to do things that make you happy, so make time for those things!!
Maintain a balanced diet. I know chocolates and junk are tempting, especially when you are busy studying all day, but you're not doing yourself any favours.
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. 8 Hours. Non-negotiable.
Exercise regularly. Even if it's just a walk, put on some headphones, listen to music, and give yourself a break. <3
Care for your social life. Reach out to your friends, make plans, and keep in touch; a good work-life balance is critical!!
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Romanticising ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Study dates. Meet up with your friends at a cosy cafe, discuss your work, and have some fun!! Studying doesn't have to be all serious all the time ;)
Silly Pinterest boards. Visualising your goals will help you find motivation!!
Music to set the mood. I have a bunch of playlists on my Spotify that might help!! <3
Cosy sweater and candles. The cosy Rory Gilmore vibes haha...
Getting a coffee before class. A little treat before things get serious... Simple pleasures, you know? :)
Babes, The hiatus is OVER, and I'm finally back!! I got a lot of asks on studying, burnout, and school in general, so I thought, why not start off with a little student guide?? I Hope October has been kind to you, and school hasn't been too overwhelming (though I know it, unfortunately, has been for many of you), and I'm glad to finally be back!! <33
As always, Please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!!
✩‧₊*:・love ya ・:*₊‧✩
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ghostdeals · 2 months
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It bother me so much that people misunderstand sayaka miki's descent into madness in madoka magica. She doesnt become a witch "just because of a boy." Sayaka is a character who ties all her self worth into being in service of others. We can see this right from the start with her idolization of mami and everything that she was. She saw mami as this "perfect hero" even though mami i would say is mentally the weakest of the holy quintet. In the timelines where mami finds out about the incubator's true goals she always immediately breaks and goes crazy, trying to kill the other girls in her own twisted way of trying to "save them". Instead of seeing the fragile person that mami was, sayaka instead sort of treats her as a martyr, a goal to achieve. We continue on to sayaka's magical girl wish. Instead of wishing for something for herself, she instead sells her soul for the sake of kyousuke. Then when he starts dating hitomi she spirals not because she's sad about the rejection but because she feels replaced in his life, that he doesn't need or want her around anymore. Then she throws herself into her magical girl work not seeing that she's harming herself because she justifies it with "well im saving people that means what im doing is a good thing." She doesn't see that she's becoming more sloppy, more ruthless until its too late. It's only in the end when she turns into a witch that her story gets resolved.
Sayaka Miki is an incredibly sad character to me. While her actions have the illusion of being selfless and "for the greater good" she is actually incredibly selfishly motivated. Everything she does is in service of wanting praise and admiration from the people she cares about. If she helps kyousuke he'll appreciate her and love her, if she becomes a hero she'll receive praise and admiration for being a good person. This is why it is important that of all people it was kyoko that fought sayaka in the end. To homura, sayaka is someone to be saved. To mami, sayaka is her sweet apprentice/younger sister figure. To madoka, sayaka is her energetic and happy go lucky friend. Kyoko is the only one who from the start called sayaka out on her bullshit, seeing straight through her. And at the end, kyoko is the one who truly accepts sayaka. Sayaka as the witch Oktavia von Seckendorff is stated multiple times in official material to be "looking for love." In the end it it kyoko who gives her that love. Even when sayaka has lost her humanity it is kyoko who accepts her for the entirety of who sayaka is with all of her selfishness and desires. She is the one who sees what sayaka has become and stays together with her till both of their ends. Kyoko choosing to die with sayaka is her saying "I'm here for you, i know all of you, and I will love you regardless."
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joontroverted · 6 months
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of course other women want your boyfriend
pairing: nanami kento x reader
tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.
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"your dad's kinda hot."
the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.
you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.
no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.
and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.
"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.
her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"
you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.
"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"
"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.
"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.
that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.
"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"
"there you are, sweetheart."
kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.
nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.
almost.
"ken!" you breathe.
"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"
"hey!"
his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"
"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.
"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"
"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.
"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.
"sweetheart, i think- "
you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.
"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"
"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.
"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."
she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.
kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.
"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"
aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.
you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.
"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."
his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.
deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.
kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.
"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."
warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.
"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.
aiko!
you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"
aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.
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DO NOT REPOST
yay first fic!!!
likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷
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joelmillerisapunk · 7 months
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a sweet arrangement
sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader
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Masterlist ♡ Sugar Daddy Masterlist
Wordcount: 3,374
Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?
Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (both m&f receiving), light bondage, reader might have pullable hair (i dont rememeber if i took it out) quick mentions of slut, baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, darlin
Notes: tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers. I was cheated on over the weekend, and I wrote this as a "I wish I could be here" instead of being sad." Just another rich!daddy fantasy
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You've been feeling financially stretched lately, and after hearing about the concept of sugar daddies and sugar babies from a friend, you decided to give it a try. You sit on your bed and hesitantly create a profile on a popular app, describing yourself as a young, independent woman looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you sit scrolling through, you can't help but feel a sigh of reluctance escape your lips. You never expected to find yourself on a sugar daddy dating app, but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.
After a few moments of looking around the site, a notification pops up. It's a message from a user named "Contractor_Guy."
Curiosity piques, and you open the message, hoping it's not some creepy come-on. To your surprise, it reads:
"Hey there. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I figured it's worth a shot. My name's Joel. If you're interested in getting to know me, send me a message back."
Feeling intrigued, you reply:
"Hi Joel, I'm not sure what 'this sort of thing' is, but I'm curious now.”
The response comes quickly.
Contractor_Guy: "Haha, 'this sort of thing' is something I usually avoid. But hey, it's a new day, and who knows what it might bring?"
You: Hopefully luck! But seriously, what exactly are you avoiding?"
Contractor_Guy: "Haha, well that's a bit of a long story, darlin.”
You: "Oh, I don't mind a long story. I've got some time to kill. Besides, I find it intriguing that someone like you is on a sugar daddy app.”
Contractor_Guy: "Well, my last experience wasn't the best, and I'm just being cautious this time around.
But, here's the long version. I met a girl a few years back, and at first, things were great. We clicked, and the relationship was mutually beneficial. I was able to provide for her in a way she couldn't for herself, and in return, she was there for me when I needed emotional support. As time went on, she started to change. She became more demanding and less appreciative. It got to the point where she would expect extravagant gifts just for a simple text or phone call. I realized that she was only interested in my money and not in the relationship we'd built."
You: "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to find someone who's genuine and appreciates what you have to offer."
Contractor_Guy: "Yeah, it was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm hoping to find someone different this time. Someone who appreciates the little things, too, not just the material things."
You: "I think that's a fair expectation. We all deserve to be appreciated for more than just our wallets. So, Joel, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?"
Contractor_Guy: "I'm a contractor. I do mostly residential construction and home remodeling projects. What about you? What do you do when you're not scrolling through dating apps?”
You: "Lol, I'm usually at work. I'm a graphic designer, so I spend most of my days in front of a computer. It's not the most glamorous job, but I love what I do."
Contractor_Guy: "A graphic designer, huh? That's pretty impressive. I've always been more of a hands-on guy myself. But I must admit, there's something intriguing about a woman in the arts.”
You: "And who doesn't love a man who can wield a hammer and a chainsaw with equal ease?"
Contractor_Guy: "Oh, I'm definitely good with my hands darlin' ;). ”
You: "Maybe one day you'll show me just how good you are with your hands."
As the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, you both exchange numbers and agree to meet for a coffee date tomorrow. Before signing off, you send a playful message with a picture attached
You: "Well, I'm off to begin the countdown to our coffee date. I'll leave you with this little teaser. ;)"
Insert a picture of you posing confidently in a cute outfit, with a mischievous grin on your face.
Contractor_Guy: "Wow, that definitely has me counting down the hours! I can't wait to see you in person."
With that, you end the conversation eagerly anticipating your first in-person meeting with the intriguing contractor.
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The two of you meet for the first time at a trendy coffee shop downtown, and you can immediately sense Joel's charm and confidence. You can tell he's done this a time or two. He offers to buy you a drink and pulls out the mattest black credit card you have ever seen to pay with. He guides you to a table in the back corner, and you both engage in light conversation, discussing your interests and goals. Joel is clearly intrigued by you, and you feel a spark of attraction towards him as well.
"So, tell me more about yourself," Joel says, his eyes locked on yours.
"Well, like I said on the app, I'm a freelance graphic designer," you reply, “It's not the most stable job, but I love what I do."
"I can imagine," Joel says, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've always been a fan of the arts. But I'm sure you understand the struggles of making ends meet as a freelancer. That's why I'm interested in this arrangement."
"I do understand," you agree, your mind already contemplating the potential benefits of such an arrangement. "It would be nice to have some financial stability while still being able to pursue my passion."
"Exactly," Joel says, his tone firm but understanding. "And in return, I'd like you to be my companion when I need someone to spend time with. We can go on dates, attend social events, or just relax at home. I value your company, you're easy on the eyes and brain, and I believe we would make a great team."
"I think that sounds fair," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm looking for something similar - someone who understands my situation and is willing to help me out."
Joel offers to take you to his place for a glass of wine, and as he leads you to his car, the conversation shifts to the details of the arrangement.
"Now that we've established the terms," Joel says, his voice low and serious, "I want to make something clear. I'm going to support you financially in any way you could ever dream of or want, but there's one condition."
"What's that?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.
"I want access to you whenever I please, however I please," Joel says, his eyes meeting yours. "I want to be able to use you for my pleasure whenever I want. Are you comfortable with that?"
Your heart races as you consider his request. You know what he's asking for, and you're not sure if you're ready for that level of intimacy. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.
"I need some time to think about it. This is a big decision."
"Of course," Joel replies, his tone understanding. "Take all the time you need. But remember, this is the condition of our arrangement."
As Joel drives you to his mansion, you can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This is unlike any arrangement you've ever been a part of, and you're not sure what to expect. As you follow Joel upstairs, your heart races in anticipation. He leads you into a large, dimly-lit room, its walls adorned with black velvet and soft, glowing lights. A large bed dominates the center of the room, surrounded by various toys and restraints.
"I want to show you what I mean when I say I want access to you whenever I please.” Joel says, his voice thick with desire.
Joel leads you over to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a seat on the edge, patting the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft and inviting.
You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the curiosity and excitement pulsing through you win out, and you find yourself sitting down next to him. Joel's hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says, his gaze intense.
You feel your entire body get warm at the compliment, your heart racing faster than ever before. "Thank you," you murmur.
Joel's hand begins to trace a path down your arm, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."
Your mind is racing as Joel's hand continues to explore your body. You're not sure what to do, but you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body craving more.
"I want to show you something," Joel says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stands up and walks over to a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He opens it, revealing a variety of toys and restraints. Your heart races as you take in the sight. You've never seen anything like this before, and you're not sure what to make of it. Joel walks back over to you, a blindfold in his hand. "I want to show you how good it can feel to let go and trust someone," he says, his voice soft and soothing.
You hesitate for a moment but something about Joel's words and the look in his eyes makes you feel safe, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He gently places the blindfold over your eyes, cocooning you in darkness. You can feel his hands on you, guiding you back onto the bed. You trust him, and you let yourself relax into the feeling of his touch.
Joel's hands continue to explore your body, tracing patterns and circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the bed shift as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. Your breath hitches as his hands continue to wander.
Suddenly, you feel something soft and silky against your skin. It's a scarf, and Joel is using it to gently bind your wrists to the bedposts. You gasp at the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation is not unpleasant. Instead, it heightens your senses, making you more aware of every touch and caress.
Joel continues to explore your body, his hands moving lower and lower until they reach the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He slowly begins to slide your pants down your legs, his hands lingering on your skin as he goes. You can feel the heat of his touch, and you find yourself arching up towards him, wanting more. Finally, your pants are off, and Joel's hands are free to explore your body in earnest. He caresses your thighs, your hips, your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
You can feel yourself growing wet, your body responding to Joel's touch in ways you've never experienced before. You moan softly, your hips bucking up towards him. Joel takes the hint, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He begins to explore you, his touch gentle but firm. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. His fingers move in slow, deliberate circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moaning louder and louder, your hips bucking up towards him as you chase the feeling of release. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You cry out as the orgasm washes over you, your body trembling with pleasure. Joel continues to touch you, his fingers gentle as they bring you down from the peak of pleasure.
Slowly, your breathing returns to normal, and you become aware of your surroundings once again. The blindfold is still over your eyes, and you're still bound to the bed. But you feel safe and content, your body still humming with pleasure. He unties the blindfold, and you blink your eyes against the sudden brightness of the room. He's standing above you, a wicked smile on his face. "Did you like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes sir," you get out with a hoarse voice.
Joel's gaze travels down your body, taking in the sight of you spread out on his bed, still bound to the bedposts. "Mmm, such a good girl already," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I have so much more I want to show you."
He walks over to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and rummages through it, pulling out a variety of toys and restraints. Joel turns back to you, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.
“You may."
Your heart racies with excitement as Joel cuffs your hands above your head, replacing the soft, luxurious ribbon, and securing you back to the bedpost. You test the restraints, finding that they hold you firmly in place. Your heart is racing with excitement, your body tingling with anticipation. He walks back over to the chest and pulls out a vibrator. He turns it on, the buzzing noise filling the room. You watch as he approaches you. He traces the vibrator over your body, teasing you with each touch. You arch up towards him, wanting more. But Joel is in control, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation until you're nearly begging for release."Are you ready for more, darlin’?"
“Yes please,” your breath coming in short gasps.
"Good girl." He traces the vibrator lower, teasing your clit with each pass. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. But he pulls the vibrator away just as you're about to come.
You whimper in frustration, but Joel just smiles. "Patience, baby, patience," he says.
He continues to tease you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm again and again, but never letting you fully come. You're writhing on the bed, your body begging for release when Joel leans down and whispers in your ear. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"
You nod, your heart racing. "Yes, I do," you whisper.
Joel smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. You're ready for whatever comes next.
Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take you to the edge, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And then I'm going to bring you back again. And again. And again. Until you can't take it anymore."
Joel's hand moves back to the vibrator, tracing it over your clit once again. This time, he doesn't stop. He continues to tease and pleasure you. Suddenly, Joel pulls the vibrator away once again. You whimper in frustration, but before you can protest, he's replaced it with his mouth. His tongue expertly teases your clit. His hands roam your body as he brings you to the brink of orgasm once again. This time, however, he doesn't stop. He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers entering you and curling against your G-spot as he pushes you over the edge.
You cry out, your body shaking with pleasure as you come hard against his mouth. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to torture you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, you gasp for breath, your body still trembling with pleasure. Joel's gaze is intense as he watches you, his face flushed with arousal.
"That was so, fucking good," you manage to gasp out, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm.
Joel smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you thought so," he says, his voice low and seductive. "But I think it's your turn now."
"My turn?" you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.
"Yes," Joel says, his smile widening. "It's time for you to return the favor.”
You feel a pang of nerves flood your body. “But I'm still all tied up.”
Joel smirks, leaning in. He grabs the hollows of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “ I never said you needed to be untied, did I.”
You swallow hard, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Joel releases your cheeks, his gaze traveling down your body. "You're going to make me very happy tonight, sweetheart. Just remember - I want access to you whenever I please, however I please. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," you reply, your voice full of submission.
Joel's smile widens, and he reaches down to unfasten his pants. He steps out of them and his boxers, revealing a hard, thick, ready erection. He climbs onto the bed, his legs straddling your chest. "Now, I want you to take me into your mouth," he says, his voice firm and authoritative.
Your heart is racing as you obey. He brings it up to your lips, and your tongue darts out to lick the tip. You can taste the hint of salt and musk, and you find yourself growing aroused again. You open your mouth wide to accommodate his size. He tastes so good, so intense, and you can't get enough. You begin to move your head, your mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Joel gasps, his hips bucking up towards you.
Suddenly he grabs your hair and holds his cock to the hilt, filing up your entire throat, blocking your airway. You try to gasp for breath as Joel holds you down on his large throbbing cock but it's no use. Your head is swimming with pleasure and arousal, and you're not sure if you can take anymore. Just then Joel releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to breathe again. You take the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Joel smirks down at you. "Such a good little slut for daddy already," he says, his voice full of praise. "Daddy wants to see more. Show me how much you want me."
You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as Joel pulls away and undoes your restraints. When he's back on the bed, you take him back into your mouth, your hands roaming his beautiful, full thighs. You begin to suck and lick at his cock, your tongue exploring every inch of him. You can hear Joel growing more aroused, his breaths coming in short gasps.
You feel a hand on the back of your head, guiding you. Joel is thrusting into your mouth, his cock sliding in and out. You moan around him, your hands reaching up to cup his balls. He's tensing, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. Suddenly, he lets out the most primal groan you've ever heard, his cock swells in your mouth. He thrusts into you one more time before coming. You can feel his warm come filling your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. Joel groans, his hips stilling as he rides out his orgasm.
You pull away, gasping for air and Joel collapses onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the satisfaction on his face, and you feel proud of yourself. You've never done anything like that before, and you're not sure how you feel about it. But there's a part of you that's excited, that wants to do it again.
You're both panting heavily, your mind still reeling from the intense experience you've just shared. Joel's gaze is locked on yours, his eyes full of admiration and desire. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I can't wait to show you more." A wave of excitement washes over you as Joel reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his fingers lingering against your skin. "I want to make this arrangement work, darlin," he says, his voice soft and earnest. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons."
Your heart races as you consider his words. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure if you're ready for the level of intimacy and commitment this arrangement requires. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins, the thrill of being desired and pursued by someone like Joel. You nod, your heart racing with both excitement and trepidation. "I think I'm ready to accept your condition," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons, too."
Joel's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and serious. "I promise you, I want nothing more than to care for and support you, both financially and emotionally," he says firmly. "And I expect the same companionship in return."
You take a deep breath, your mind racing with the implications of your decision. But there's a part of you that's eager to explore this new world, to find out what it means to be truly desired and cared for by someone like Joel.
"Okay," you finally say, your voice full of resolution. "I want to make this arrangement work too."
Joel's face breaks into a smile, his eyes filled with relief and joy. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice full of gratitude. "I'm going to make sure you never regret this decision."
---
Thanks for reading ❤️ let me know if you'd like more from these two
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
Injured (Alexia's Version) IV
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: You need perfection
TW: eating disorder, self-destructive thoughts, unhealthy thoughts about weight and size, self-harm through dance
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There's a reason the ballerina body is thought to be unobtainable.
It's because it is.
Even to the dancers.
Perfect feet. Perfect legs. Perfect waist. Perfect stomach. Perfect face and hair.
You didn't have the perfect feet. Your arch wasn't quite perfect. It was close but with the right shoes it looked perfect.
Your legs weren't quite perfect either. You think one of your knees bulges weirdly and one leg is the tiniest bit more muscular than the other. But that can be hidden under your tights.
You don't like your waist or your tummy. You're different to your Mami but you're built a bit like her. She's built like a football player where she doesn't need to care about her waist or her stomach like you did.
You could fix your face with makeup and your hair with product but you couldn't fix your biology. You couldn't fix the way you've developed.
When you were younger and still at ballet school, the older girls passed down one line of wisdom to the younger girls.
If you weren't thin enough to fit between the space of the barre and where it's mounted on the mirror, then you're too fat.
You know now that that's too small of a gap for anyone to fit through without tucking in their tummy to the extreme. You know that now but it's still embedded within you. It still haunts your every step, a looming figure in the shadows that will one day catch up with you.
Some of the other dancers smoke or vape to keep their figures but you took the more classic route.
It was easy to cut breakfast out. A protein bar sufficed as your lunch, maybe a pre-packaged salad as well. You would eat dinner because that was a family meal and, while you were desperately trying to keep your figure, you knew that eating at least one meal a day was good.
It worked like a charm though and soon your stomach shrunk to the point that having one meal a day was all you could stomach.
"Why are you still asleep?" Jaume asks as he throws himself onto your bed," It's nearly dinner."
You groan, poking your head out from your blanket cave. "I was napping. I'm allowed to nap."
You've been napping a lot lately but you're used to that. Whenever you start cutting out meals, you feel the need to nap more to conserve your energy.
"Mami told me to come get you," Jaume replies," Dinner's almost ready."
You pull the covers off before freezing.
"Jaume," You say," Are you wearing your dirty football boots? In my bed?"
He grins. "Yeah."
"Get out!"
"Oh, come on, it was just a joke!"
You smack him in the face with a pillow. "I'm telling Mami!"
He scrambles after you, trying to stop you from making it down the stairs.
"She's lying!" He cries out, skidding to the dinner table just as you arrive.
"Jaume wore his dirty football boots in my bed!" You announce and Alexia sighs.
"Just one day," She says wistfully to Olga," That's all I ask. Just one day of no arguments."
She scolds Jaume lightly over the meal and you pick at your food.
Alexia watches you out of the corner of her eye. This meal is your favourite but you're pecking at it like you're a pigeon.
"How was dance?" She asks.
You shrug, grateful for the opportunity to talk as you push the food around your plate. "Good. I'm going back in after dinner. I'm going to practice my solo."
Olga frowns just like Alexia. "You've been doing that all week. Don't you think you need a break?"
"It won't be for that long," You lie," I want to get it perfect."
Perfection has always been a big part of your life. If you have perfection then you've proven your worth. If you have perfection then you cannot be replaced.
If you perfection in your dancing, in your body, then everything will be good and right in the world.
If you have perfection then you'll never be forgotten again.
Alexia watches you, eyes narrowed before she starts helping Olga clear the table.
"Jaume," You hiss," You want this?" You offer him your plate.
He glanced over to where Olga and Alexia have their backs turned.
"Give."
You scrape the rest of your food onto his plate before getting up quickly.
"I'm heading to the studio," You say.
"I'll drive you," Alexia says.
"I'll walk." You're actually planning to jog. "I want to grab a snack from the store on the way."
There's a reason Mami hasn't found out yet. You've gone back and forth on this for years. Cutting out meals before a performance only to introduce them again a few weeks after. You know exactly how to play her.
It's easy to slip away just like it's easy to dance and dance and dance until your feet ache.
There's something about pointe work that you love. It's a hard discipline. Nobody outright loves it like you do. You don't think they'd understand why you love it.
You love it for the wrong reasons.
You love it because it makes your feet hurt. You love it because it makes you look good even when you're falling apart. You love it because it makes you feel perfect even when you know you're not.
You love it because it's the quickest way to make you bleed.
Your chest rises and falls as you feel your toe pads grow wet with your own blood. Your vision is full of spots and you can barely see yourself in the mirror.
All you can focus on is your next move and the pain in your feet.
All you can do is dance and dance and-
You're on the floor the next time you blink, feeling groggy as your stomach rumbles. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror as you crawl your way over to your bag, shakily unwrapping an energy bar.
You pull off your pointe shoes and toe pads.
This is so normal to you now that you don't even think about the fact that you just blacked out.
You eat your snack, drain down your sports drink and wrap plasters around your bleeding toes as you dial Mami's number.
She picks up quickly, like always. You can imagine her just sitting at home, waiting for your call.
"Bambi?" She asks as soon as she answers," What's up?"
"Can you come and pick me up?" You ask," I'd like to come home now."
Alexia's already grabbing her keys. Her shoes are already on. She's already out the door.
Something's up with you. She knows this. She just doesn't know what it is. But she knows she'll always be ready to pick you up. Always want to bring you home herself.
You look pale and shaky as she pulls up and, like usual after practice, your bare feet are out of your shoes. They're covered in plasters.
"Did you get your snack?" Alexia asks," You look a little pale."
"I did," You reply," I was just dancing a lot."
"Hmm," Alexia says," You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can tell me anything."
"I know," You say.
"Good. Just...Good. You're a good girl, bambi, and I want you to come to me if you need to talk, alright?"
"I know, Mami," You say with an eye roll.
Alexia holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, your brother wants a milkshake. Do you want anything at the drive through?"
Your tummy rumbles.
"A meal then," Alexia decides before you can protest," A burger I think. Greasy."
You wince. "Mami-"
"You gave half your dinner to Jaume," She says suddenly," I'll split the meal but it's non-negotiable."
It's fine, you think.
So long as you get to practice early tomorrow, you can work it all off.
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ceilidho · 10 months
Note
Hello~ new lurker here. I've been daydreaming about Price wanting a family, but not having the time to court someone, and two other possible scenarios came to kind.
Reader, not part of his team but works at the same base, who was just served divorce papers. She wanted kids, the soon to be ex-husband didn't and he found someone else. She doesn't *know* how to be a girlfriend anymore. She only knows how to be a wife.
Or
It's family day on base. Price is wistfully watching families show up for their soldiers. And overhears someone who is in the same boat as him.
"don't be getting babyfever."
"Too late. Want a baby. I want something worth retiring for."
you're hitting all my buttons with this :\\ I'm realllyyyyyy going heart eyes at the first idea though.
Poor reader who maybe got married knowing that her husband wasn't interested in having kids but hoping that she could change his mind. Then maybe accepting a childless marriage after years of being together, but always felt like she was giving up something immeasurably valuable to her, like giving away the future she'd always envisioned for herself.
Only to get hit with divorce papers after giving up so much of herself for her husband. She signs them in a daze because he's already moved in with his new girlfriend and she couldn't bear the humiliation of trying to beg for him to come back when he's already so clearly moved on.
Maybe Price has always been interested in her, but respected the ring on her finger and figured that he was just too late. A damn shame, but over the years that they've worked together, he's come to treasure her companionship. He treats himself to daydreams, to quick wanks in the shower before work so that he doesn't spend the day looking for her or hovering over her shoulder when he finds her. So he can pretend at being normal.
And his brain short circuits when she stops by his office one day and he glances down to her hands out of habit only to find them bare. No ring. Glances up again and really looks at her this time, the troughs under her eyes, dark circles from poor sleep, from crying, cheeks losing a bit of their plumpness from not eating right. Price doesn't even listen to the words coming out of her mouth, some request from her superior that she'd been tasked with bringing to him. It all falls to the wayside because her ring is gone.
He lets her confide in him, gives her his shoulder to cry on. Locks the door to his office and pulls her into his lap even though it's not appropriate, he's not her direct superior but he is a superior. He shouldn't be brushing his thumb under her eyes to wipe away her tears and speaking to her in a low, hushed voice, exhorting her to tell him everything weighing on her. He shouldn't be pitting her against her ex, telling her that he'll help her sell the house (she can't afford to buy her husband's half since it's in both of their names) and she can stay with him in the meantime.
He shouldn't feed into her anguish by telling her that he understands her pain. How much he's longer for a baby as well, just never found the right person, the right partner. The big, empty hole in his life that he's never been able to fill with work or friends or extended family. He shouldn't indulge himself in the way crying makes her pretty lips swell and her eyes go big and watery. He shouldn't nudge her into agreeing to move in with him when she's this vulnerable, still beaten up and hurt from signing the papers not even a few days ago.
He does anyway though :\\
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sincerelybubbles · 4 months
Text
pairing: spencer reid x reader
word count: 1.8k
warnings: angst, resolved angst though!! i keep promises!! also, shower scene but sfw !! i am just a slut for an innocent shower scene
part 1
Spencer doesn't come back that night and you sleep alone in the bed. It's too big, too empty, too quiet.
Your morning feels liquid without him. He usually makes the coffee, you figure out lunches. Brushing past each other, gentle hands, gentler smiles.
Everything feels hollow -- off-kilter. You're late to work for the first time in years, running behind with raw eyes and no reminders of the time shouted across the room.
Of course, you're used to the mornings that he's away. When he's in a different state you do this alone all of the time, but it's punctuated with texts and calls and promises that this isn't your new normal.
But now, the possibility hangs low over your head, a storm cloud dripping steadily over you as you work.
Annoyingly, the weather doesn't reflect your mood: it's sunny, there's a breeze, leaves cover the ground. It's the sort of weather you would convince Spencer to take a walk in. It's the sort of weather that, eons ago, he would have noticed and brought you out to walk in without you asking first.
It's not easy to notice when the shift happened. One moment he was exactly who you fell in love with: passionate about his job, sure, but equally excited about you. But, slowly, he changed. Like ice melting in water left outside, the parts of him that made every moment apart worth it slid down the glass and evaporated. The Spencer left is vacant, reading files at home even when you know he doesn't need to. He hasn't planned a date in months, hasn't texted you because he read something new that he wanted to share, hasn't seemed to see you for longer than a few seconds in weeks.
You tried to bring it up to him but the conversation was put aside because of a work call. He had to go but he pressed a kiss into your hair, hugged you tight, and promised you would work on it. Together.
That was over a month ago and he's made no effort. If anything, things have gotten worse. You can't remember the last conversation you had with him that had any true substance.
"Alright, go home." Your boss' voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you into the now.
"Sorry?"
"Go home, get some sleep, you look like shit," he says, shaking his head at you. "Don't argue, you're only missing a few hours, we'll survive without you."
Thanking him, you gather your things and begin the walk back to your car, scattering the fallen leaves with your feet.
You try to think of anything else as you get in the car, turning on music. It's hard, but you do it. You think about what to cook for dinner, what chores need to get done, mundane things that usually plague you.
You don't think about if you still have a relationship. You refuse the thought every time it creeps into your mind, shaking your head as if to physically remove the thought.
Spencer's car is in the driveway when you pull in. You put the car in park and stare at it, letting your head slowly fall forward and cheek rest on the steering wheel. He was so rarely home in the middle of the day on weekdays. You're not sure if you're ready to face him but know you have no choice.
With a sigh, you get out of the car and make your way into the house.
You can hear him moving around in the kitchen when you push the door open. Quietly, you slip out of your shoes and set your things on the table. Without saying anything, you go to your bedroom and start the shower.
You're tired of always initiating the conversations. You're tired of seeking his attention, practically begging for it, only to be shut down. Let him come to you if he's really sorry -- if he even is sorry.
You've been in the shower less than a minute when you hear your name being called. The bathroom door opens and you can just make out Spencer's head poking inside the room through the shower curtain.
"Hello?" He asks, stepping inside.
"Hi."
"I didn't hear you come in." You don't answer him, wetting your hair instead. "Can I sit?" He asks after a moment, his voice hesitant.
"Sure, if you want."
You watch as his shadow crosses the bathroom and he sits on the toilet, slouched, forearms resting on his knees.
"I was an idiot last night," he starts. You stay quiet, silently agreeing as you begin to shampoo your hair. "I can't honestly say anyone or anything is more important than my job. And I know you understand that, you've always understood that. I mean, I'm saving lives. Protecting people. What I do, it's important."
"I know," you say, softly.
"I know you know," Spencer says, just as softly, voice hurt. "But that doesn't mean you're not important or that I can treat you as less of a priority. Because you are, you know. A priority. Pretty much my main one."
You hang your head under the warm water, watching it drip through your hair and take the suds away with it. The soap runs down your arms, down your legs, and swirls around the drain. Steam lifts over the curtain, filling the air and making your eyes hazy.
There isn't much to say other than, "I haven't really felt like one."
"And I was an asshole when you tried to tell me, I know." Spencer rubs his hands across his face, voice agitated.
"What happened?" You ask, eyes still trained on the drain.
"Nothing, really. I think I just let myself get too sucked in. I mean, you've always been so consistent in my life, even before we got together, that I just sort of always expect you'll be there for me."
"I will," you admit, leaning against the wall of the shower so you can watch his shadow move as he speaks. It's true, you'll always be there for Spencer.
Spencer shakes his head, leaning forward and resting it in his hands. "You shouldn't have to if I can't prove the same is true in reverse. I should be just as consistent. I used to be just as consistent. I prided myself on how well I managed our relationship and our job. I got too comfortable, too cocky, too sure that I couldn't fuck this up that I ended up doing just that."
"I don't think you've fucked this up." Spencer laughs, low and harsh, lifting his head to look at the ceiling. "No, really. I think you just fucked up but it's nothing that can't be fixed."
"You deserve better."
"You are better, Spencer. I know you are. You're just going through something. I don't know what, I don't even think you know what, but if you let me in, we can work through it together. Just, you can't push me away."
"I don't even want to push you away, that's the thing. I can tell when I'm doing it but I can't figure out how to stop."
"Well, this is the best way to start. By telling me. I trust you. I trust us. Do you?"
"I trust you," Spencer says, voice breaking. "And, yeah, I trust us."
"Then that's all we need, no?"
He joins you in the shower a few minutes later. All innocence, helping you wash your hair and letting you wash his. The water is warm, you're in each other's spaces, not talking but just together.
It's the mundane task that truly starts to make you feel better. He's gentle as he works conditioner in your hair, eyes shut in peace when he bends down for you to run your fingers through his.
He jumps out before you to grab your towel, opening it and wrapping you up before hugging you. Warm, steady, he rubs small circles on the nape of your neck, under your dripping hair, where he holds you close.
"I was going to make dinner, I was making a list when you walked in," he says when the two of you make your way back into the kitchen. "I wasn't expecting you to be home yet."
"I was sent home early because I looked tired. Well, he actually said 'like shit' but I know what he meant." You send him a sarcastic smile as you sit down at the kitchen table, leaning forward to look at his grocery list, puzzling out what he wants to cook. "What about you? Why are you home so early?"
Hands shoved in the pockets of his sweats, Spencer shrugs. "Today is pretty much just a paperwork day. I got what I needed to get done out of the way and went home. The team was confused but they'll be fine."
"You left early?" You ask, raising an eyebrow and your gaze to watch him.
"Like I said, you're a priority, too. You deserve to be treated like one. I can't leave early most days, but the ones I can ... you deserve that, at the very least."
You stand, shuffling over in your socks, to hug him around the waist. His hands come to wrap around your shoulders without hesitation, smoothing over your hair.
You stand like that for a minute, his grasp firm, your nose pressed into his neck.
"We're going to be okay," you whisper, just as much for him as yourself.
"Of course," he replies.
here u guys go, luv u <3
i have something else (much much better writing quality wise imo) in the drafts so keep an eye out!! this is just a silly little thing but i still enjoyed seeing ur guys' reactions to it !!
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jinjeriffic · 9 months
Text
DC x DP prompt/ficlet
Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:
Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...
Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.
While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!
Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.
----------------
Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED
Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE
Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?
RR: I would like to know that too
Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!
RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?
FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...
RR: Shit
Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??
FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...
Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!
RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*
-------------
Some time and explanations later...
Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?
Tim: Fml
RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that
Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English
RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics
Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times
RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...
Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that
Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway
Danny: That's what you took from that??
RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.
Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole
RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...
Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*
Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?
RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no
Danny and Tim: Fuck
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Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.
They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...
Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*
Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...
Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.
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coloursflyaway · 3 months
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i'm finally going through the comments on heaven to no one else but me (i'm so sorry for the delay, btw, but i was gone over the weekend and you guys were SO sweet that i wanted to take the time to reread everything and make sure i'd respond properly) and i just had A Thought.
i've been putting charles through the ringer lately, which i love doing, because that boy suffers so prettily. but how about a fic in which through magical hijinks charles loses his memory, and edwin is the one left behind?
and charles is like he always is, which is bright and happy and clever and wonderful, and he takes to edwin like he did last time ("so we're best friends? that's pretty cool, i never thought i'd get a best friend this clever! how do you put up with me?") and he's the same, but also, he's not.
because all the time they had together changed charles, just like they changed edwin, and there is something impossibly nostalgic about seeing charles like this, like a snapshot of thirty years ago, but at the same time, it's the most painful experience of edwin's life, because charles has forgotten everything about what made them them.
the synergy isn't there anymore, the ease they usually move with together, the references to older cases and the inside jokes they have.
one time, edwin holds out his hand on instinct; charles asks, "huh? what do you need?" instead of putting their magic screwdriver into it.
edwin doesn't do it a second time.
and there is a beauty, maybe, in watching charles get to know him again, but god, it breaks edwin's heart every second of the way.
and they go through remedy after remedy and nothing works, and edwin has to face the possibility that he might still have a best friend, but he'll never get His Best Friend back, and it's not enough to destroy him, because charles is still there, but god, it is close.
(charles, at the same time, is baffled by everything edwin knows about him and how close they must have been and is this really everything, is edwin keeping something from him? did they - he can hardly think it, because surely it can't be true, this doesn't happen to him, he's not worth of this happening to him - kiss? is this why edwin looks at him so dejectedly when he thinks charles doesn't notice?)
and charles keeps asking questions, like he is trying to figure something out, until one day, he kisses edwin. straight on the lips, a hint of a question in the curve of his mouth, and edwin is both overwhelmed and devastated, because this is what he had been hoping for before charles had lost his memory, and yet he cannot enjoy it now, because it's not His Charles; and yet he cannot pull away, because it is Still Charles and edwin loves him in any way he can.
it feels like cheating somehow, but what if he'll never get charles back, what if this is all that is left of their friendship now?
so he kisses back anyway, and when charles smiles against his lips, edwin thinks maybe, just maybe, it could be okay.
only that a few days, or maybe a few weeks later, something happens and charles suddenly looks at him and he's Back, edwin can see it in his eyes, and -
-and how can he explain this to charles now, that he let himself be kissed by charles when he was not himself, how can he look charles in the eyes when he knows that he has taken advantage of him like this, has he gotten his best friend back now only to lose him again because he couldn't control himself around charles and-
-and charles smiles at him, says, "hi. good to be back. i missed you."
and he takes edwin's hand, who still cannot speak, cannot think, and presses a kiss to the back of it.
"guess i just had to start all over again to realise i could absolutely fall in love with you, huh?" he says, and he looks at edwin like he used to a week ago, like he used to a decade ago, and edwin is crying before he knows it, fingers curling around charles' to hold onto him.
"did you?", he asks, and charles just laughs, sweet and happy and safe.
"oh absolutely. although i think i might have started thirty-odd years ago."
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bekolxeram · 3 months
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Continuing on the theme of things I've missed while S7 was airing, we have to talk about the (failed) first date. I admit it gave me too much second hand embarrassment that I usually skipped it on a rewatch. Once I managed to brave through that I realized I did miss something important, so here is another scene breakdown. Again, it's just my own interpretation.
The title of 7x05 is You Don't Know Me, that seems to be the theme of the episode: the Wilsons figuring out Mara's trauma, Eddie finding out Marisol's former nun training, Buck trying to navigate the whole dating a man thing, but they all end up making an effort to make the relationship work.
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The date scene starts at the end of the actual date. We don't see much of the getting to know each other stuff, but judging by their faces, it's gone pretty well. At this point they don't know about each other's movie preference yet, so Tommy picks a place where they can decide on arrival, with Buck's input. That also signifies the nature of this date, they're literally "keeping their options open" and just seeing where it goes, without any major expectation.
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Buck still seems visibly nervous, but Tommy reassures him that they're just two guys having dinner, it's a very ordinary thing that nobody cares.
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Buck pretends he's at ease, Tommy points out he seems a little tensed, but he understands Buck's worry. Tommy speaks about the masculine nature of their job and tells Buck that people are more accepting than he thinks, which sounds awfully like it's from experience.
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I think Buck sees it too, so he asks Tommy, who seems perfectly confident in his sexuality and masculinity, if he's been always out on a job. Tommy tells Buck about the 118 under G*rrard, this explains to the audience why Tommy seemed to be straight and a part of the boys club back in S2.
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So Tommy was at least aware of or questioning his sexuality at the 118. Mr. "my girlfriend is totally coming next week" and "single is much easier than scaring women" was full blown lying about his sexual orientation. Chances are he does understand Buck's nervous fumbling, as he's probably done worse in the past.
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Here comes the seemingly recurring theme of Buck making things all about himself, whether you agree with this or not, he does have a tendency to get stuck in his own head. Tommy assures him yet again that he's not accusing Buck of anything, he's just sharing his own experience to empathize.
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Tommy looks a bit surprise when Buck tells him it's his first date with a dude. It's probably new information to Tommy.
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And then Buck tries showing Tommy that he holds no prejudice towards queerness because he's an ally, completely oblivious to the fact that he's also one of them. Tommy tries to follow as much as he can.
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Tommy senses that Buck is spiraling, trying to pull out random stuff just to bring the date back on track, so he flirts with him just to lighten up the mood and for the third time of the night, reassure him of his interest in him and the rest of the night.
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Then Eddie and Marisol walk in, and Buck panics. I know Buck tells Maddie later that he "makes it seem like they were just hanging out", but if you go back to this scene, Tommy is the one who covers for Buck and takes the initiative to agree with Eddie and tell him they're just doing normal bro hangout stuff.
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7 seaons in, we all know Buck doesn't have the best luck with first dates. The more he likes someone, the more likely it is for him to mess it up. So of course he has to self-sabotage here and drag Tommy into the closet with him, even though Tommy's already covered for him and Eddie is ready to move on. Tommy doesn't like mad here, he looks disappointed.
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For what it's worth, Buck's hot chick comment actually makes things worse. Look at how confused Eddie's reaction is.
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This snarky joke from Tommy has caused some controversy among part of the fandom. Some believe that Tommy could've outed Buck with it, but I beg to differ. Eddie knows Buck very well, Buck has always dated women. On the other hand, Eddie has never heard of Tommy dating a woman, he might have attributed it to the recency of their friendship, but that's why he immediately makes the connection in his head that Tommy is gay when Buck comes out to him later in the episode. Even if Eddie had superhuman intuition and understood the double entendre of this closet comment, Tommy would be outing himself, not Buck.
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Here is another controversial moment: Tommy doesn't explain anything to Buck until the Uber is here, and he just leaves him there. First, Buck is a grown man, he can get himself home, there is no concern for his safety. Second, Tommy has every right to leave the date if he doesn't vibe with it. When Tommy tells Buck he's adorable, I don't think he's referring to Buck's overall demeanor. I think he means that Buck's nervous fumbling into queerness doesn't scare him, he actually finds it quite endearing. But after reassuring him 3 times, even going as far as telling Eddie, someone they can trust, that they're just hanging out, Buck still feels the need to make the hot chick comment and push them both into the closet, Tommy realizes that things would not go any better if they continue the date. Buck has not fully processed the fact that he's bisexual and he's dating a man. I'm sure Tommy really likes Buck as well, he want to make it work, so to him, the best course of action at the moment is to take a step back and let Buck figure things out himself first.
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To Buck this may sound like Tommy is letting him down easy, but I think Tommy is consciously not shutting anything down here. He absolutely will see Buck around, he's still Eddie's friend. Tommy knows they will have to talk about it in the future, but for now, it's best to put a pause on things just to give Buck some space to process. What Tommy doesn't know is that Buck has been dumped so many times that he thinks this is it.
Therefore, not only does Tommy never intend to out Buck during the date, he is willing to keep things ambiguous for Buck's comfort. Ultimately, it isn't enough for Buck, so Tommy takes a step back for Buck to figure things out on his own.
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lightningidle · 8 months
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I am once again emotional about Riz Gukgak, this time because he is (as far as we know) the only Bad Kid actively thinking about the group's future together. The entire plot of The Seven was the Seven Maidens fighting tooth and nail to all graduate together and remain an adventuring party, but as Junior Year kicks off, Riz is the only one we see trying to chart a course for the whole group.
This doesn't mean the other Bad Kids don't care! Of course they do!! All of them have big things to deal with, be it breakups or a lack of parental figures or a lack of direction or a lack of money, the list goes on. But as the future looms ever nearer, Riz is the only one we've seen thus far thinking about everyone's future together, not just his own.
"The years will go by, and everyone will find someone that matters more to them than you."
It can be hard to be the friend that always makes the plans. It can be hard to be the friend who's constantly reaching out first, who's always the one facilitating hangouts, who's always taking charge because (especially as you get older and your time becomes less structured) without someone taking the wheel, the gang won't be getting together for weeks at a time, if at all. None of this means the gang doesn't want to spend time together, just that as you age, it takes more effort to make happen. and more often than not, it tends to fall on one person to see that through.
And even though you love your friends, even though you know the work is worth it, even though the work itself is your love language, it can sometimes feel like none of them care as much as you do. Whether or not it's true, sometimes it feels like, if you just stopped trying, no one else would pick up the slack, because it doesn't matter to them the way it matters to you.
"Why do you think your friends keep you around, Riz Gukgak? If it had not been for detention on your first day of school, and for you to solve this little mystery, do you think they'd look at you as someone they can truly understand? Or are you just a funny little thing that finds the clues?"
At the end of the day, the Bad Kids love each other. These friendships are meaningful and important, and they all put effort into taking care of each other. Riz is the little shrimp (honorific)(affectionate) of his crew because he belongs, not because he's simply tolerated.
But like he told his mom before Boys Night, he has a hard time relating to them when there's not a problem to solve. As he told his dad, he feels the distance between himself and the group as someone who doesn't get the hype around getting their kisses in. Work is his love language. And if he can do this— lay out the pieces, solve the puzzle, do the work to make sure that there's a future for all of them as a team— then he can prove he's worth keeping around.
Right?
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obscureashe · 2 years
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First Loves » KNY headcannons
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❧ starring: [ gn!reader ] + tanjiro, inosuke, zenitsu, genya (the bois) ❧ synopsis: just generally figuring out that what they're feeling is a first crush/relationship! ❧ a/n: valentines day man, it's got all the ideas going. and to include how these guys might react is just so cute! (side side note: writing for zenitsu made my heart completely explode)
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Tanjiro Kamado »
the way he falls in love is very subtle, and at first he doesn't even realize his feelings
its just a fluttery warm feeling in his chest when your hands accidentally touch, or his soft thoughts when he sees you just being yourself
when it hits him, it hits him hardd
like makes him physically sick to think about it (sick with nerves suddenly)
won't look you in the eye, will jump about a foot back if you're too close, the works
but, i think he'd adjust well after that, because
i mean he's lucky to have fallen in love with you, of all people
why be afraid to show it?
he's very respectful, and sometimes eye contact becomes a little intimidating for him (he laughs it off)
his face is almost always red (and you can tell when he's super happy because the tips of his ears start burning)
tries to be as romantic as possible sometimes, sort of remembering the way his parents showed their love
his love language is definitely words of affirmation
Inosuke Hashibara »
does not know what a crush is, and at first can hardly comprehend the idea of a relationship until zenitsu and tanjiro explain it to him
has the urge to fight you all the time (he doesn't know why, but it's because he wants your attention)
would probably go to shinobu bc "he's sick"
literally him explaining that he's itchy all the time, shaky like he's going to collapse, and sweaty. "probably a fever" in his words.
"you're in love" doesn't explain much to him either when she points out the source of his "sickness" is you.
he still doesn't understand what he feels completely, but does see it through new eyes
like accepting the fact he wants to be around you more than anything
and make you happy (seeing you laugh because of him, just makes his heart flutter)
in a relationship, you'd be taking most of the first steps
like holding his hand or even hugging him
it's a slow process of him adjusting to the relationship
but it's 100% worth every bit
likes praise, and kinda tries hard to get your compliments (gets kind of mopey if its been a while)
kind of his weakness
probably gives you little wild flowers (and occasionally acorns)
Zenitsu Agatsuma »
its not his first crush, so he knows 100% that he's head over heels in love
he falls in love hard, and often. both a good thing and a bad thing
but this one feels different?
you're not like the others he's crushed on because he knows he can trust you with his affections
and that gets him nervous as hell
i think he'd have butterflies and a smile 24/7 (he'd just be so happy to be in the relationship of his dreams with someone so special)
old fashioned, and likes giving you tons of gifts and flowers (he probably thinks its his job to give you the world, and he'd try)
but to be honest, he'd probably need a ton of your attention and guidance
his past relationships taught him nothing but how selfish others could be (doesn't stop him from loving endlessly though so that's good :)
still hasn't had a first kiss, and loves holding your hand
would probably weep from joy if you said yes to his confession
really protective of you
Genya Shinazugawa »
probably swearing in his head and completely aware of his turning feelings towards you
to be honest, he's probably loved you since he first laid eyes on you
he just respected you too much to realize it
and now that he does. . . he's actually prone to avoiding you as much as possible(?)
he's the kind to daydream random scenarios (admiring from a distance)
of course this gets his ears and neck burning like crazy
is in denial for a long time about his feelings, until he comes to terms with it
he needs a little bit of direction and confirmation that you're actually interested in him (it might be the only way to get him to confess anything)
and being in a relationship is a difficult adjustment too
the reality of it all doesn't sink in for a while
like holding your hand or even kissing isn't just a thought anymore is. . . bizarre. to say the least
gets embarrassed easily and it makes him frustrated that its out of his control
just has to walk away sometimes to cool down
is a sucker for the little things and likes feeling like he can protect you
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happy74827 · 7 months
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hiii love your writing! recently obsessed w harvey specter fics! would you do a really sweet soft side harvey one? or maybe harvey gets jealous and they fight but it ends fluffy?
Valentine
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[Harvey Specter x GN!Reader]
Synopsis: With Harvey by your side, even with all his quirks, you can’t help but love him.
WC: 765
Category: Mega Fluff
Since I already wrote an argument type of fic, I decided on making it just pure fluff and admiration. Did Laufey and my friend help me with inspiration? Yes, yes they did. Also, happy *extremely late* Valentine’s Day!
『••✎••』
He likes Jazz, but not the kind that everyone knows. He likes the soft stuff, the smooth stuff, the kind that slips into your brain and massages your neurons and makes you think about life. The soothing melodies and the sweet crooning of old-school vocalists are like a drug to him, something that he can't ever really get enough of. The music is so powerful to him that it's even been known to lull him to sleep a time or two.
It’s things like this, the little things you’ve learned over the years about Harvey, like his love for pot roast and how he only watches the Knicks when they’re guaranteed a win. He absolutely hates being handed things, always takes his steak medium rare, and has a special love for black licorice, which you will never understand. It all helps give him his personality his quirks, and you love him for all of them, even if you don't agree with all of his food choices.
Harvey isn’t vocal about his feelings, but that’s not a problem because you know him well enough to tell just how he feels. You know the difference between the smile that is just a smile and the one that reaches his eyes. You know the way that his face goes slack, and his gaze softens when he looks at you. When he’s chewing on a pen, a grin spreading slowly across his face, you know it's because of something you've said or done, and you can't help the swell of pride that accompanies it.
You also know when something is bothering him. There are little clues, but if you catch him rubbing his forehead, it means he's frustrated or stressed, and you can't help but be concerned for his health. When his brows are furrowed, a telltale sign of deep thought, you can't help but worry. It doesn't help that he has the tendency to internalize his worries, never wanting to burden others with his problems, a habit you're trying to get him out of.
The way his fingers dance over his desk, twirling the pen he's holding, means that he's nervous, and you can't help the urge to pull his hands into yours, hold them still, and tell him that everything will be alright.
There are certain things about Harvey that you will never understand, like why he prefers to stay late and work through the night than to go home early or why he insists on getting his suits tailored even though they look amazing on him straight off the rack. But what you do understand is him, the person.
It took time, and it was hard, but you managed to peel back the layers of Harvey Specter, one by one until you had him figured out. There's not a day that goes by that you're not grateful for the fact that you get to spend the rest of your life with him, and the feeling only grows with every day that passes.
You can't imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone else. Waking up in that sleepy daze to see his face next to yours and falling asleep at night wrapped in his arms is the most comfortable and the safest that you've ever felt. Every morning that you open your eyes and see him there, you can't help the smile that stretches your lips and the warmth that fills your chest. You can't help but feel blessed.
It's hard sometimes. You won't lie. There are days when you feel like you're fighting an uphill battle, but in the end, it's all worth it.
You can tell by the look in his eyes when you're lying next to him on the couch that he thinks you're worth the world, and his lips on yours make it feel like the fight is easier than it is.
He doesn’t say it much, but you know. You can feel it in the way he holds you, see it in the way he looks at you, hear it in his voice when he says your name, and you can even smell it on his skin when you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.
It's there, in his touch, and that's more than enough for you. Suddenly, you understand what the old jazz greats meant when they sang about love because as long as Harvey is with you, the two of you can weather any storm.
He was your forever valentine, and as long as you're together, you can face the future without fear, and that's all the music you'll ever need.
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Note
Hello you amazing wonderful awesomely awesome person! I’m so madly obsessed with your work
Very curious on your thoughts on this: zombie apocalypse au
Do you think Jason and readers first meeting would be need to be more in a life threatening situation in order to stick or would they be able to meet in a calmer environment and stick together?
This isn’t a push for you to write any one shot! Just curious what you think and any additional thoughts or headcanons you might have for this au 👀
Tysm for continuing to put out awesome writing all the time!
The Death Stench
Ahh, asks like this is why I love taking requests!! Thank you, nonnie!! Seriously, so many great ideas come through my inbox that I never would have thought of myself! I was actually so excited when I finally sat down to write this. Sorry it took so long! :)
~1.4k words
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Gotham has always been a cesspool of filth and rot. It's something Jason has long grown used to. But the hoards of groaning, decaying zombies are something he's still learning to live with.
It's been four– no, five months since the world fell apart, since the apocalypse broke down society. The government is in shambles, if it still exists, and Jason hasn't seen or heard another living person in weeks.
He thinks he owes his survival to whatever the pit did to him. The corpses that line the streets just seem to ignore him and shuffle past as he breaks into a little corner store for supplies.
It's why he's started to get complacent. It is so easy to not double or triple check your surroundings when the undead treat you like one of their own.
It's a fact he didn't realize until he's staring down the barrel of a gun and maybe the only other living, breathing person on Gotham.
He blinks at them. They blink at him. "You're not one of– you're alive," You half question, surprise and shock clear in their voice.
Jason slowly raises his hands, the last thing he wants to do is get shot when his medical supplies are dwindling, "I'm alive."
He stares at you for a minute, and you stare back before slowly lowering your gun, "I was here first."
He laughs. It's ridiculous. The world ended, he hasn't had a proper conversation in weeks, and you're trying to lay claim to a corner store in shambles. But, he steps back anyway and gestures to the ransacked aisles, "All yours then."
He quirks an eyebrow when you actually look panicked. "Wait," You start, and lower your gun completely, "I'm sorry, I just– haven't seen anyone in a while. I think I forgot how to talk to people."
You're both aware of the risk you took admitting that, to tell a stranger you're completely and utterly alone in this city, that there's no one waiting for you to return.
Jason has the overwhelming urge to make your risk worth it. He can't explain it, but he chalks it up to some form of loneliness.
So, he smiles at you, easy-going and every inch the charming grin that used to win over the old ladies at charity galas, "I haven't been around people in a while either. Maybe we can figure it out together?"
His heart stutters when you smile back, so clearly relieved. "I'd like that," You admit and holster your gun.
The two of you carefully pick through the store, and an uncertain but steady partnership forms between the two of you.
It takes some time, but he learns which shots you can make and which you can't. You learn which knee hurts him when he jumps over chain wire fences. You both learn to cover each other's blind spots, to trust each other to make decisions.
You haven't quite learned that zombies just don't seem to detect him, and he hasn't found a good way to bring it up, to explain that, 'Hey, I was dead and apparently I qualify as one of them. But don't worry! I won't eat you!'
Yeah, Jason figures you wouldn't be too comfortable with him sleeping near you if he said it like that.
He doesn't really get the chance to explain until he has to use his uncanny ability to blend in with rotting corpses to save your life.
It was supposed to be a normal supply run. Pick over what's left of a pharmacy and get out. Cut and dry. Something you've both done more times than you can count. Until it goes wrong.
He'd cleared the area, he'd been so careful, you both were. But you hadn't been lucky. It was no one's fault, when you open a cabinet and a skittish raccoon jumps out at you, sending you falling back.
The animal knocks over cans and boxes as it frantically scampers to get away. It's loud. Too loud.
The two of you froze, when the sounds of shuffling feet start to make their way to the door. Jason weighs his options, and the piece of his heart that had become undeniably yours won quickly.
He grabs your arm and hauls you to your feet. "C'mon," he mutters, dragging you towards a supply closet.
"We need to run," You say quickly, tugging at your arm and trying to push him towards the exit.
"We won't make it," he says firmly and shoves you into the tiny space. He follows you in and pulls the door shut. The door doesn't lock, and he reaches around you to grab an extension cable off a shelf.
"Jason," You half hiss, eyes wide as the groans start to get louder.
He shushes you, heart racing as he ties one end of the extension cord to the door knob, and the other to the metal poles of the shelf.
It's a start, but it wouldn't stop anything from breaking down the door. "Sorry," Jason mumbles. He returns your confused look with an apologetic one, and immediately crowds you against the wall.
He grabs the back of your neck to press your face to his chest. His other hand grabs at your hip, almost desperate. Jason realizes he hasn't been afraid in a long time.
He buries his face in your hair and silently wills you to understand. If he can keep them from getting your scent, hearing you, you'll be safe. He can protect you, he just needs you to stay like this, hidden and sheltered against the dirty wall of the closet.
He knows you can't begin to guess why he's doing this, but you don't make a sound. Your fingers curl into his jacket as the zombies shuffle around the pharmacy. Grunts fill the air as they pass by the door, and Jason feels you stiffen against him.
It's instinctual, when his thumb starts to rub back and forth across your hip. He wants to help, wants you to feel calm and safe even as the smell of death fills the air.
He's surprised when you do relax against him, tucking your face further into his chest. He's not sure how long you stay like that. His thumb never stills, and eventually, the sounds of undead fade, and he's left with just you.
Jason lets himself linger for a moment, savoring your closeness, before slowly untangling himself from you. "You're okay," he says softly, he means for it to be a question, but it comes out as a fact, a complete certainty that you are okay.
You look up at him, eyes wide, "How are we even alive? I've never seen– they've never just ignored people before."
He winces, "I'll– Let me explain. Please. Just not here." He deflates a little at the uncertainty that flashes across your face, but you nod and follow him back to the rooftop that's become his and your base.
He tries to explain, really, does his best to talk about the Pit, who he was, what he used to do. You never interrupt, you listen to every word he says as he lights a fire, methodically making food over the open flame.
You don't say anything as he admits the undead have never been interested in him, but you do let him sit next to you to eat.
He runs out of things to say, as the sun sets over a desolate Gotham. Jason thinks you're going to leave. Or ask him to leave. But you don't. You lean your head against his shoulder, and all the air leaves his lungs.
"I'm glad you're here, Jason," You tell him. And for the first time in a long time, Jason is too.
"I'm glad you're here, too," he echoes, and he hesitantly lowers his head to rest against yours. He breathes a sigh of relief when you don't move, only relax into his side.
Jason closes his eyes to bask in the moment, in being with you, and swears there's not a thing he wouldn't do to keep you like this. To keep you with him, to keep you happy, to keep you alive.
He thinks it might be the reason he's still breathing.
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