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bestworstcase · 24 days

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Thanks for your response ala Ruby & Yang, great stuff!

Idle aside, but do you have any thoughts on Yang's role as the sort of black sheep of the family by dint of Raven associations?

Cos like, Tai overtly favors Ruby, projects Raven onto Yang, resents Raven being rough up and is bad enough about reminders of her Yang feels she has to apologize for his negative reactions. Let alone his... Everything else.

Then there's Qrow who doesn't seem to interact with Yang over much at all and one of if not their most major interaction. Involves him straight up saying he thinks she's either a liar hurting people for fun or "crazy".

I recall someone I was chatting with wondering: Imagine doing everything you can to keep your family from breaking apart & being compared to the woman who left you when you were a baby?

Cos I do wonder how Yang feels about all that given she seems to downplay and or try to work around her family's issues when she can. Let alone what it says about the adults in the room.

smth i think about a lot is the way yang’s narrative about her childhood shifts between v2 to v5

’cause in v2 it’s: “it was tough. ruby was really torn up, my dad kind of shut down. it wasn’t long before i learned why…” all to provide context for this anecdote about putting ruby in a wagon and running away to find her mother. and then her conclusion is “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.”

and while there is a degree here of yang framing the story to emphasize the point she wants blake to understand, it’s also very obvious in her delivery that the emotional reality of this memory for yang is “the time my stupidity and stubbornness almost got me and ruby eaten by grimm”—when she was [checks notes] like five, six years old, and regularly left at home unsupervised.

but in v5, it’s: “my mom left me. ruby’s mom left too. tai was always busy with school, and ruby couldn’t even talk yet; i had to pick up the pieces. i had to pick up the pieces. alone.”

aside from the telling slip (tai, not dad)—yang centers her own feelings and the harm this situation did to her this time. which is something she’s always felt but i don’t think she could have brought herself to say it out loud to anyone during the beacon arc, because it was pressed down under the guilt on display in burning the candle, the feeling of having been inadequate and too stubborn and too selfish and and and–

coughs quietly. “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.” / “you were predictable. and… stubborn. and maybe a little boneheaded.” yang’s narrative about the wagon incident—which happened when she was five or six!—pinning the blame on the thing tai imagines to be her fatal flaw is…probably not coincidental. yang in v4 after a year of being loved by her team and supported by mentors like glynda / oobleck / port has the perspective to know that tai doesn’t know what he’s talking about; but as a small child who’d just had a terrifying near-death experience with her baby sister… 😶

it definitely had a big impact on the way yang sees herself

BUT i do read qrow's talk with yang in 3.8 pretty differently ->

because the context is: yang saw mercury attack her and struck back in self defense, then had like a dozen synthetic soldiers point guns in her face, then looked up and saw the replay footage of herself walking over to shoot a boy who was just kneeling on the ground. and some of the most powerful authority figures in the world are pushing this narrative that stress and adrenaline "clouded her judgment."

like this would make anyone doubt their sanity. bc holy shit.

yang, though...a couple weeks ago, yang after being knocked unconscious woke up and blearily saw someone she thought was her mother walk away from her and disappear in a flash of red light. she hasn't mentioned it to anyone, because it's just so bizarre—yang doesn't know about raven's semblance yet—she must have just been seeing things. right?

aside from raven (who isn't here) and yang (who believes she hallucinated), the only other person who knows that yang saw her mom on the train is qrow, because raven told him about it. he also knows that:

tai insisted on not telling yang ANYTHING about her mother, and qrow respected that up until now; so yang doesn't know about raven's semblance and can't make sense of what she saw.

salem's infiltrators are the same people who attacked amber, and qrow didn't get a good look at them because they seemingly vanished into thin air—pretty damn good chance that one of them has a semblance that manipulates what you see.

ozpin wants #2 kept secret, so yang has some very powerful people actively trying to convince her that she's crazy. ironwood is straight up gaslighting her.

qrow also—based on the first thing he says, which is "why'd you do it?"—seems to consider it a possibility that it is what it looked like but yang did have a good reason, and i actually do not think that is an outrageous thing for qrow specifically to think. because qrow was emotionally abused as a child, and he knows yang, and in the event that yang really did suddenly turn around and punch a guy who was kneeling on the ground, why would she do it?

glances at shay d. mann. well. maybe this kid has been harassing her? maybe he said something horrible or threatening to her and in the heat of the moment she just snapped? maybe "he attacked me, i saw him attack me" isn't really a lie per se, she's just scared that "he's been picking on me ever since he got here and he made a disgusting remark and i just couldn't take it anymore" won't be taken seriously? as in, he did attack her—verbally/emotionally.

it's probably worth asking, at least!

so, qrow leads with "why'd you do it?" in case there is some invisible reason justifying the apparent action. yang says "you know why." qrow goes okay, well, i only know what i saw, so you're either lying (i.e., yang had a reason she now isn't telling) or crazy (i.e., yang saw something different from reality that was very real to her).

she says "i'm not lying." qrow believes her: "crazy, got it."

at this point, he knows the most probable explanation is that one of salem's infiltrators fucked with her head. the inner circle's gaslighting doesn't sit right with him; he's not going to buck ozpin by telling her the truth outright, but he wants to make sure yang knows she isn't losing her mind. he also has all the info needed to guess that yang is actually really really scared that she might be crazy.

which is why he kicks off the wall and begins to pace around. the language he uses sounds dismissive, but his tone is mild and his body language implies "let's talk about it, let's figure this out."

leading to:

YANG: Who knows? Maybe I am. QROW: And here I thought your dark-haired friend was the emo one. YANG: I saw my mom. …I- I was in a lot of trouble, took a pretty hard hit. But when I came to, the person attacking me was gone, and I thought I saw… her. Her sword. Like the one in you and dad’s old picture. QROW: You’re not crazy, Yang. That was your mom, alright. Let me guess—she didn’t say a word, did she? YANG: How did you know that? QROW: I don't see my sister very often, but she does try to keep in touch... whenever it suits her. YANG: Wait—you mean you talk to her? That was real!? QROW: Yeah, she found me. Had a tip from my most recent assignment and wanted me to give you a message.

it's really telling that yang responds to him this way. 'cause we've seen how yang acts when she feels dismissed or belittled:

TAI: Well, "normal" is what you make of it. YANG: What is that supposed to mean? Do you want me to just pretend like nothing happened? I lost a part of me. A piece of me is gone. And it's never coming back. TAI: You're right. It's not coming back. But that doesn't have to stop you from becoming who you wanna be. You're Yang Xiao Long, my sunny little dragon. You can do whatever you put your mind to. So whenever you're ready to stop moping, and get back out there? I'll be there for you. YANG: I– I...

she freezes and shuts down! her teachers have to come to her rescue!—but when qrow goes "crazy, got it" and suggests she's being "emo," yang blurts out her big secret. i saw my mom. to me that suggests a level of trust and understanding that isn't there with tai: qrow says stuff like "okay, so you're crazy" and "here i thought your friend was the emo one" but what he means is "hey, i know something's really bugging you, tell me about it," and yang picks up what he's putting down.

it's akin to how ruby goes "did you miss me? DID YOU MISS ME??" and qrow's like "nope" and they both laugh. or the back-and-forth ribbing between him and the girls in 3.4. there's this layer of mild ironic meanness in the way qrow converses with his nieces that all of them are fluent in, and in this scene he's using that mode to signal that "crazy" is not off-limits, that it's okay to talk about openly.

crucially, there's a code-switch in the middle of the conversation: as soon as yang gets real and says "i saw my mom," qrow reflects that seriousness back to her. you're not crazy, that was your mom, she found me afterward and told me about it. it was real. you're okay. qrow's ability to do that—to shift into a more serious mode when irony isn't appropriate—is why yang can have this rapport with him that she doesn't have with tai, because tai isn't... being ironic when he says mean or dismissive things to her.

anyway, qrow passes on raven's terrible message and then kind of annotates it: "raven's got an interesting way of looking at the world that i don't particularly agree with, and she's dangerous." (which is a very diplomatic way of saying he thinks raven is full of shit. lol.) but then he connects this whole conversation about raven back to what happened after the match: "you're a tough egg, kiddo. don't let this tournament thing getcha down. you had a slip-up; sometimes bad things just happen."

implicitly: yang isn't crazy. what she saw on the train was real, a product of raven's personality and her semblance. sometimes bad things just happen. qrow believes that yang had the experience she says she did when she punched mercury. he doesn't know why she had that experience—yang doesn't either!—but he knows she isn't just "crazy." sometimes things that seem crazy are actually real.

remember what he tells the girls in 3.4? "you may be acting like huntresses, but you're not thinking like one." same thing here. he's telling yang, hey, you're not crazy, you know what you saw, but you don't know what or who caused you to see it. "you cut off the head of the king taijitu, but now the second head's calling the shots."

hint, hint.

it's subtler than the hints qrow drops for ruby in 3.12, but very much in the same vein, and yang is plenty smart enough to figure it out. she might... not have? in the couple of hours between this conversation and everything going to straight to hell, but if they'd had literally just one more day, just long enough for the wheels turning in yang's head to click together with what ruby heard from velvet about coco hallucinating during her and yatsu's 2v2 against emerald and mercury, she would've had it.

more... generally, i've never gotten the sense that qrow projects raven's flaws onto yang in the way that tai does; qrow is definitely a lot closer with ruby than yang, but i think that has less to do with favoritism on qrow's part than it does ruby thinking he's like the COOLEST uncle ever and wanting to use a scythe like he does.

'cause like, qrow isn't their parent, he doesn't live with them, he's not responsible for raising these kids like their dad is, so while he obviously did contribute to fucking them both up because: alcoholic, ultimately there just isn't the same degree of betrayal or emotional abandonment; he's not their dad. both times yang talks in detail about her childhood, it's "my mom left, ruby's mom left, tai wasn't really around, ruby couldn't even talk, i was alone"—she doesn't mention qrow. there isn't that deep hurt, that feeling that qrow is someone who left.

when he isn't drunk, yang seems to feel pretty okay around him, and qrow likewise treats her... honestly a lot better than tai does:

he stops by their dorm in v3 to hang out with both his nieces; yang is fully in sister mode—cheers for ruby to beat him until ruby loses, immediately shoves her out of the way like "my turn!! >:D"—and qrow ribs them both, takes ribbing from both of them in good humor, tells both of them "you two are gonna go far."

qrow nicknames to show affection; ruby is "pipsqueak," yang gets "firecracker."

we only see qrow's goodbye to ruby, but in 5.4 yang indicates that qrow came to talk to her before he left, too. she also has complete trust that he's keeping the promise he made to look after ruby.

yang, as noted, opens up to him about seeing her mom; she's also shocked that he's still in contact with raven and indignant that he didn't tell her sooner, but—unlike with tai—she doesn't seem surprised that qrow is willing to talk about raven in general.

which tracks with what tai says in 4.11: "despite asking him numerous times not to, i know qrow told you where you're mother's been at these days"—meaning, this was a point of contention between him and qrow. behind the scenes, while tai refused to discuss raven at all, qrow was going okay well, let me tell her then, she deserves to know. and then ultimately he just bit the bullet and told her behind tai's back. i wouldn't be surprised if it turned out qrow had been straight with yang that her dad wanted to be the one to tell her the important stuff, and he wanted to be respectful of that, but raven wasn't an off-limits topic.

general contrast between yang-tai and yang-qrow dynamics; for example both of them say almost verbatim "you've got a long way to go before you're ready for the real world" (3.4/4.4). from tai it's belittling, he's insulting her; from qrow, it's meant to encourage, it's "remember you're still new to this, you'll make mistakes, just keep learning, keep trying." (rwby does stuff like this all the time, refracting an idea in different directions to highlight contrasts between characters; ozpin's advice to ruby vs port's advice to weiss is another example.)

a lot of qrow's resentment toward raven is centered on her abandonment of yang: "did you know yang lost her arm? [...] rhetorical question, i know you know. it's just obnoxious that you'd bring up family and then carry on like your own daughter doesn't exist. [raven: "i saved her."] once. because that was your rule, right? real mom of the year material, sis." like he is PISSED on yang's behalf that raven won't even try.

my impression is that qrow—although a) often away on long missions in far away places and b) an alcoholic who sometimes got blind drunk and became a burden yang and ruby needed to take care of—when he did manage to be there, made a serious effort to connect with both of them. he ended up being closer to ruby bc she wanted to learn scythe-wielding, but i do think qrow would've trained yang too (or instead) if the girls had different combat interests.

and while his relationship with ruby has a mentorish aspect, i don't get the sense either of the girls see him as a parental figure: he wasn't part of their household, he traveled a lot, his alcoholism in combination with tai's neglect eroded the adult-child boundaries because they had to be responsible for him as often as the reverse. he's a friend who also happens to be related to them. and that's especially true for yang, because he wasn't her teacher.

(i know it's a... pretty common headcanon / fanon that qrow lived with them, but i really don't think that's supported by the text? whenever ruby or yang look back on their childhoods, the family unit is always them + tai, and qrow isolates himself out of fear that his semblance will injure those he cares about. plus ozpin sending him all over the place as the one member of team strq still active. it makes way more sense to think he lived alone, and visited when he had the chance. which is the main reason i'm WAY softer on him than on tai, 'cause qrow wasn't in a caretaker/parent role; at most he was an occasional babysitter. so while his incidents of turning up drunk on the doorstep contributed to the harm... it's like, it would absolutely have been better for them if qrow were sober, but that wouldn't have changed anything about their home life. they'd just have somewhat easier relationships with qrow.)

TO WRAP THIS BACK AROUND TO THE QUESTION, tai is unfairly judgmental and harsh with yang bc he projects his idea of her mom onto her; yang also has a better relationship with her mom's brother than she does with her dad. how do these two dynamics interact? how does yang feel about hearing from tai that she's too branwen, so to speak, while also getting along better with the branwen side of her family? how might that fuel her desire to find raven?

if her uncle treats her better than tai does, then... maybe her mom would too, if only yang could reach her?—obviously it's not rational, but like. i don't think five year old yang put her baby sister in a wagon and ran away to find her mom because she thought she would ask "why did you leave me?" and then get her answer and go home. as yang grew older and developed a more realistic perspective it shifted to "i just need to know why she left" and she projects that backward onto herself as a child, but at the time what she wanted, what she was looking for, was someone who would take care of them.

#never-ending heap of yang thoughts

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looseduke · 1 year

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okay insane thought about names and the feelings i have about them as a transgender blended family kid. it requires a leap of logic where the fantasy high parent couples remain dating and get married or otherwise legally bind themselves together but follow me on this for a moment. also i don’t know or care if this follows canon im just deciding it does

gilear took sandra lynn’s last name

could not afford to change it after the divorce

gilear is just one of those ppl who really likes having the same last name as his life partners, doesn’t have to be his name, he just thinks it’s nice

(sandra lynn liked her name and though she has Many Issues and might have changed her name in an attempt at normalcy gilear’s name was definitely something outlandishly stupid and he suggested it first anyway so it worked out)

do u see where im going with this

gilear seacaster.

fabian is furious but this ain’t about him

something so funny about taking your (way funnier if they don’t even get married) girlfriend’s dead husband’s last name

he keeps faeth as a middle name bc it’s still a connection to fig that he values and wants to keep

anyway. jawbone hears about all of this. absolutely loves it. thinks it’s awesome

jawbone o’shaughnessy-faeth!

yes with the apostrophe and the hyphen. yes every time.

he likes the connection to gilear and fig as much as he does the one to sandra lynn <3

when consulted fig was SUPER enthusiastic about another dad. gilear was like sigh. that might as well happen. im already being dunked upon by my mean stepson. go ahead.

okay the grand finale. the reason i even made this fucking post

adaine kills her dad, gets adopted, and starts to wonder if she should change her name

adaine makes amends with her sister, and starts to wonder if she should keep it

jawbone lets her know right away that he’ll support her decision no matter what, but it takes a long time for her to decide

it takes watching gilear and fabian bicker over their shared last name, watching fig get sappy over gilear holding onto the name faeth, watching fig and jawbone get sappy over THEIR shared last name, watching sandra lynn hide a smile whenever it comes up, watching, watching, watching

watching her sister learn and grow and love her unconditionally

she makes her decision, and when her dad brings her home from the fantasy dmv, there’s a new name on her ID

adaine abernant-o’shaughnessy-faeth. yes all three names. yes with the apostrophe. yes with the hyphens. every time

it’s for her dad, yes, for the man who gave her a home, who helped her find her strength, who is always her safe space, but it’s for more then that too

it’s for her sister, who for better or worse is in all of her earliest memories. who never underestimated her. who’s trying, every day

it’s for her sister, who called her awesome on the first day of school. who’s always there for her. who wears her heart on her sleeve and teaches adaine it’s okay to be emotional. who’s her best friend

it’s for the man who took her in when he had next to nothing to offer, who shared his extra garlic knots and vending machine snacks, who hosted his daughters strange friends night after night without question or complaint

and it’s for the elven woman sitting across from her at the dinner table, who understands her greatest fear better then anyone else and has built a life for herself despite her mistakes. who protected her on their quest. who opened her house for about 6 teenagers to live there permanently and anywhere between 3 and 10 more to hang out as much as they want

adaine abernant-o’shaughnessy-faeth, the people’s oracle <3

#there is absolutely nothing wrong with being family and having different last names. or having the same last name and not being family #but personally #choosing my name and who got to be included was one of the most powerful things in the world and i want that for her <3 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #adaine abernant #also i personally am an o’[name]-[name]#and let me tell u. every computer hates you so much forever. but it’s okay

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lvckyyz · 3 months

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Hey! Your headcannons are really amazing! and I would like to know how you imagine the romantic relationship between the children of Zeus and Poseidon.

the storm

relationship between a child of zeus and a child of poseidon

personally, i think it wouldn’t be the easiest relationship to be in. of course all relationships need dedication and patience to work, but this one will need a LOT more, and we all know that cabin 1 and cabin 3 aren’t the most patient people in the world.

the relationship would probably start with them not liking each other or having a kind of competition between them. i don’t think most of them would get closer to each other naturally, so something might happen that will make these two become friends before getting into a romantic relationship.

these two are the kind of people who wouldn’t notice they’re acting like a couple until someone else says something, especially cabin 3. after they finally start liking each other and being friends, they’d still have some little fights (that are mostly just a joke) but wouldn’t let anyone bother them.

when they started dating, people would constantly try to get them away from each other. two of the big three kids together? no, they couldn’t take it. so cabin 1 and 3 might have to hide their relationship for a while.

cabin 1 will always be more responsible than cabin 3, who couldn’t care less about what the others think of them being together, but don’t want to make their loved one uncomfortable.

them having late night dates, usually at the beach, because that was the only place where they could be alone without being judged.

their relationship would happens mostly outside camp half-blood, which is not the best thing in earth for two demigods but that’s the way they managed to be together.

being the children of two of the most powerful gods in history, cabin 1 and 3 understand each other’s issues and how hard it is for them to just live, so i think these two would try their best to protect each other and try to feel normal at least for some time.

the two of them are extremely adventurous and they’d go around trying to find something new, and make new memories together.

i can see this couple as the kind to be discreet about showing affection, maybe holding hands or kissing each other’s cheeks sometimes in public, but nothing more than that.

they’re not into planning stuff, even though cabin 1 like to have everything under their control, they’d learn how to let things happen naturally when they’re together with cabin 3.

⤷ author’s note:

hii, thanks for the request! i’m really sorry for not posting as much as i used to, but my school started and my creativity died🥹

also, this isn’t the best thing i’ve ever written (actually i didn’t like it at all) but i hope it’s not too horrible, sorry if it isn’t what you were thinking of😔

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #heros of olympus #pjo hoo toa #pjo imagine #pjo tv show #rick riordan #riordanverse #jason grace #headcanon #cabin 3 #cabin 1 #zeus #poseidon #luke castellan #clarisse la rue #nico di angelo

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flowery-mess · 2 months

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Swan Lake

Noah x ballerina reader

I will never forget the way I was feeling at that stage in front of all those people. My parents and siblings in first row, watching me with eyes full of tears and pride. I got the lead role in Swan Lake at the age of 16 which was seen as big accomplishment in ballet world. In that moment I felt happy, proud of myself and stronger than ever. But that didn’t last long.

Just a seconds after the big red curtain was closed and me and other dancers went in the direction of our changing room, I heard my name being called. Screamed, actually.

I turned around to see our trainer speed walking to me. I quickly went over the whole play in my head. What did I do wrong? I couldn’t think of anything, I felt good. She found million reasons to tell me I was a bad choice for playing the lead role, that I’m too fat and I won’t play on the next date.

That was it. That night I told my parents I’m done with ballet and I’m quitting immediately. My mother was ballet dancer too, we talked a lot about how hard it was for me lately, so she agreed with my decision and went to talk to my trainer. I packed my things and never saw that woman again. That felt like a big rock fell off my shoulders. That was 10 years ago.

“What are you thinking about?” Noah asked, his hand gently placed on my thigh as we were driving to my family home for Saturday lunch with my family.

“It’s 10 years anniversary of me ending my ballet career. I was thinking about it a lot recently.”

“Thinking about as?” he waited for my response as he didn’t really understand how I feel about it.

“As I miss it, I guess. I was thinking about talking with my mom about it today. Also I looked up some ballet classes in our area. But I don’t know, it was just a silly idea.” I shrugged it off.

I never really talked with Noah about my ballet career. I told him I did ballet for 14 years and quit for mental health issues. I mean, it’s very much known how the ballet industry works, so he understood. I have very mixed feelings about getting back into it at my age, so I haven’t told anyone yet.

I tried to stay healthy and fit, I sometimes go to open dance classes and sometimes I try some ballet steps. I still got it. I am a lucky one, I still have good stretches and I learn steps quickly. I just got bored of doing it only in our living room.

“Really? That’s not a silly idea, it’s actually a really cool idea. Did you find any good places?” I was surprised with Noah’s excitement. He is very supportive of everything I do, but I guess I expected different reaction.

“I like two ballet studios. They have some good teachers and also open classes, just for hobby attendance. One is on Mondays and the other one is on Thursdays, so I can try both and then see which one I like more.”

“Are you signed up already?”

“No, I am not sure Noah. It brings up lot of bad memories, 10 years ago it got me into a really bad place and I’m scared it’s going to be the same this time.” I felt tears coming as I thought of little 13 years old me crying through the whole night, because I was told I’m fat for ballet. That I’m not good enough. That I’m too tall to be a ballerina. That my skin is too pale. That I got in just because of my mother. That I’m never going to make it.

Those memories make me feel little and so vulnerable.

“I’m sure it will be great honey. If you miss it, then you should try it. But it’s your decision, okay? I don’t want to push you into anything. Take your time to think about it, talk with your mom and you will see what’s her opinion on this, right?” he brought his hand that was holding mine in it to his lips and placed small kisses against my palm.

“Thank you.” I shot him a smile which he gladly returned.

I loved days like today, spending time with my family. All of them love Noah, so after we have lunch, we are usually both separated and have conversation with someone else. Firstly, I talked to my siblings about college and their new internships, while Noah talked with my dad about new music and their upcoming Europe tour. My dad absolutely loves Bad omens and I am sure he is their biggest fan. When my family visits for shows, he never wants to be in the backstage, watching the show from safe space. He always goes in the crowd, which makes my mum crazy scared every single time.

I used this as a chance to talk to mom about the ballet thing that was going around in my head.

“Mom do you mind coming with me outside for a minute?”

“Of course darling.”

We took our coffees with us as we made our way to the garden and sit on the big couch that my parents had there for my whole life. That thing is going to outlive all of us.

“What is it darling?”

“What do you mean?” I tried to hide my worries, but my mom knows me too well.

“I know when my baby is worried about something. What is it? Is it Noah? Are you sad he’s going to leave for tour soon?”

“Oh no, well, yes that too, but it’s not the first time, that will be okay. It’s something I wanted to talk about especially with you.” I played with the cup in my hands and avoided the topic as long as I could.

“Come on hon, spit it out.”

“I was thinking about getting back into ballet.” I said and kept my eyes low, focused on the green grass. I looked up just because my mom wasn’t saying anything. “What? Are you going to say something? I don’t know what this face means.” I was honestly so confused with the way her face was looking at me. Was she happy about? Sad? I couldn’t tell.

“Well, I was expecting this much sooner than now.”

“What?”

“I always thought you will want to get back to it at some point in your life hon. You loved it. Aside from those ugly things, you loved ballet. I was so angry at that woman who ruined for you.”

“Why did you never say anything?” I was so confused. She was waiting for this for years and never talked about it with me?

“Because it’s your decision, not mine. I didn’t want you to think I was disappointed with you or pushing you back into it. Did you think of where would you start with classes? And would you want to take part in plays again?” She was right. It is just mine decision and with everything she saw me go through I understand she was worried.

“I found two studios near our home that look good. They have weekly open classes that I was thinking about. But I wanted to talk with you first about it.”

Then we fell into long dialogue about everything connected with be going back into ballet. My mom gave me a courage to at least try it. She said my eyes lit up when I talked about the good memories I had from my child age. She also told me that I am more mature than I was back then and even if I don’t think I can handle it, I can. And she was right.

I’m a grown woman now, I can handle myself and protect myself. It’s also just open class for everyone who wants to try ballet, there will be no judgement.

“I’m going to try it.” We left my parents house later than expected, so it was dark outside when we were driving back.

“The open classes? Did you talk with your mom about it?”

“Yes and she said I should give it a chance. So I guess I won’t be home on Monday evening.”

“Can I go watch you?” Noah asked.

“What?” I returned him a question, not knowing what he meant.

“I mean I never saw you do your ballet thing and you will be wearing those ballet outfits and I’m sure that will be hot.” He said as if it was obvious fact that I should’ve known.

“You’re not being serious right now, are you?” I tried to hold my laugh in at his innocent clueless face.

“Well I’m not, but I would really like to see your little ballet outfit for sure.” He turned his face to you so you could see his smirk.

“Sure, watch the road you perv.”

It had already been a month since I started going to open classes in the studio I chose after the first week. I chose the one closer to our home, their dance rooms were bigger and more modern and our teacher was a lovely girl, possibly my age.

And it felt amazing. It felt like I was alive again. Don’t get me wrong I loved my life with Noah, my work and everything, but this felt like the missing piece.

While I was changing into my clothes after today’s class, our teacher Molly came to talk to me.

“Listen Y/N, I know you said you have bad experience and memories with professional ballet, but we have few spots open in our semi professional group and I thought you’d be great candidate. I see you’re learning faster than anyone in your class and I’m scared you would get bored after a while. There will be auditions, but I can get a word in for you and see if you could skip them. Just think about it and let me know as soon as you decide please.”

That night I came running home to share that news with Noah.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” I screamed just seconds after I opened the door.

“Studio.”

When I opened the door Noah turned in his chair to face me.

“Did I do something?” he looked scared.

“What?”

“Why are you screaming and running, I’m scared I did something.” You let out a chuckle at his words.

“No, but I got news. Great news.”

“Let me hear them.” I walked over to him and sat in his lap.

“I just got offered a place in semi professional group at the studio. Without auditions, Molly wants me there.”

“Honey that’s great news! That’s amazing news!” he stood up with me in his arms and spined us around.

“So you think I should accept that offer?”

“You haven’t already?”

“No, I wanted to think about it.”

“Judging by your reaction, there’s nothing to think about.” He smiled into our kiss.

“I guess I’m back on track then.” I kissed him back.

Long story short, I accepted Molly’s offer and started with my new group. I had classes 4 times a week, which was bit hard to get used to, but after while it was okay.

Noah left for tour, so at least I got something to do with my free time.

Noah leaving was also good for another reason. There is time difference between us, so we usually text each other or have short calls, so my worries are easy to hide.

Last week Molly told us that our group will be playing Swan Lake few months from now on, which brought back some memories. Semi professional groups still play in midsized theatre, I joined them when there wasn’t any, so I expected some play to come soon, but not this one.

I had mixed feelings about it, thinking if I want to play or if I just pass this one. Applications are closing in three days and I still haven’t applied for any role, which was weird for Molly.

She asked me about it after last class, so I told her about my ballet history, how Swan Lake basically ruined it for me. Molly is very positive person, so she told me something that got stuck in my head. She said I could take it as an opportunity and change Swan Lake from something bad to something really good in my life.

Truth is, I am thinking about applying for Odette/Odile, but I haven’t told anyone yet.

“Okay that’s enough love, what is going on?” Noah asked through the phone and I saw his forehead wrinkles were making his worried face. It’s scary how well he knows me, but with tomorrow being the last day for applications I needed to tell him.

“Our group is going to play Swan Lake in a few months and I don’t know if I should apply or not. It’s the play that made me quit.”

“Looks like it’s your second chance to make the best out of it. Listen, you were worried about even getting into ballet again and look at you now! I know you’re worried now, but wouldn’t you regret not even trying it?” I felt like I was on the phone with Molly right now.

“I know, I was thinking about applying for the lead role, I did it back then too. But maybe I should do other role?”

“Oh no love, if anyone is supposed to be the lead role in this play, it’s you.”

“You have to say this, you’re my boyfriend Noah.”

“Well wouldn’t you be the same if I was in your position? That’s what you do for your partner. You know how many songs would be forgotten and never released if you didn’t support me? There is lot of them I thought weren’t good enough, but you made me finish them. I may don’t understand ballet, but I understand you and I know you would regret not applying. So you get your ass up right now and fill what ever you need to fill and send it to Molly or I’m going to do it.”

And he was right, I would regret it. But I still couldn’t believe myself when I saw ‘send’ on my screen after I applied for Odette/Odile.

Molly informed me that me and 5 other girls applied for the same role, so there will be two rounds of auditions, first one starting on Monday, which gives me 6 days to prepare for it. Noah is also coming back home on Monday, so I’m happy I will share the outcome with him. Either we will celebrate or he will make me his comfort food and I’m happy with both options.

I spend the last 6 days going over the choreography for the first round of auditions. Everyday after work I went straight home and practiced. Last night I didn’t get a chance to talk with Noah, because he was already on his way back to the states. I at least talked to my mom this morning.

“Y/N you’re next.” I heard Molly from the ballet room.

“I’m homeee.” I heard Noahs voice that I missed so much. I left the pans on low heat and left kitchen to meet Noah in the living room.

I didn’t waste any time and went straight in for a kiss.

“Missed me much?” he managed to say between our kisses.

“Very much.” I looked at his face, tired face, and held it in my hands “Hi love.”

“Hi.” He leaned his forehead against mine as we enjoyed bit of silence and each other’s presence after month and two weeks apart.

“How was the flight?” I broke the silence, took his hand and led him into our kitchen to finish dinner.

“It was okay. I slept most of the time, but I’m still very tired. And I need a shower.”

“You can go take a shower now, it will take few more minutes until it’s done.” I pointed to the food.

“Okay.” Noah got up, left kiss on my nose and went to get shower. That’s what I thought at least. On his way to our bathroom, he realized I didn’t tell him about the audition.

“Y/N? Wasn’t the audition today?” it was, but I wanted to tell him about the result over dinner.

“It was, but I wanted to tell you later.” I tried to hide the smile on my face.

“You got through to the second audition, didn’t you?” he caught your smile and immediately knew the answer. “I guess we can celebrate right now in the shower huh? Are you going to join me?”

“So girls, I want to thank you for participating in this audition. It was hard to decide, but in the end, we agreed on one name. And it’s you, Y/N. We were amazed by your performance and we feel like your experience with this play could help us to make the best of it. Congratulations!” Molly gave me a hug and whispered in my ear that she knew it was going to be me from the beginning.

Noah and my mom said the same. My mom made sure she put date of the premiere in hers and dad’s calendar so they wouldn’t miss it. Noah also made sure to clear that day months in advance and welcomed me home with a flower and dinner as a celebration.

Breathe in, breathe out. And repeat. I stood in backstage already in my costume. I saw Noah and my parents in the first row as the rest of the room filled with strangers. Strangers that are going to be watching me in a few minutes.

“Are you ready Y/N? How are you feeling?” I felt Molly’s hand on my shoulder.

“I’m nervous, but also excited. I haven’t preformed for over decade, so I hope I don’t panic.”

“You’ll be great. We did lot of work, all of you will do great tonight.”

She then went to talk to other girls and I felt my phone buzz in my hand. It was Noah.

“Don’t be nervous, we’re very excited to see you shine tonight. You’ll kill it babe, I love you.” Oh my sweet Noah. Supportive as always.

I stood still in my pose as the curtain was closing. I let out a big breath I didn’t even realised I was holding in when the curtain was fully closed. I turned around to see my friends and in that moment we realized we just finished our premiere of the Swan Lake. And it was perfect. We did group hug, with Molly joining us. It was completely different than 10 years ago. This night was full of support and love.

I went to change into my normal clothes and then to meet Noah and my parents.

My dad and Noah both had bouquets in their hands and my mom had tears in her eyes. She was also the first one to pull me into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you Y/N, you can’t even imagine. You grew up into a beautiful woman and you just showed me how strong you are.”

“Thank you, mom, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Then it was my dad who pulled me into strong hug. My dad didn’t show emotions a lot, so I appreciated him coming tonight.

I really wanted to literally jump into Noah’s arms, but I kept calm in front of my parents. They said their goodbyes and left, because they have long road ahead of them.

As soon as they left the parking lot I turned to Noah and attacked him with hugs and kisses.

“Slow down baby, let me congratulate you and give you this beautiful flower.” It really was beautiful bouquet. Noah always got me beautiful flowers.

“How was it? Did you like it?” I was interested in Noah’s opinion, because it was his first ballet play he saw.

“It was beautiful! You were amazing! I know you can stretch your legs right, but I didn’t know you can stretch them like this.” I didn’t know if I should slap his arm for his stupid comment or laugh at him as he was trying to show me what he meant and trying to do the pose he was referring to.

“Okay ballerina I get it!” I laugh and stopped him from what he was doing before he got himself injured.

“Do you want to go out for dinner and drinks? Or go home and order something? You must be hungry.” We intertwined our hands and Noah led me to his car. He was right, I didn’t eat much today, because of the nerves.

“I think I want to go home, order something to eat, have a glass of wine, have hot bubble bath and then my back could use a massage…”

“I will give you massage only if you let me join you in the bath.” Of course he wouldn’t miss that chance.

“Deal. Let’s get home.” Noah started his car and took my hand in his.

“I love you and I’m so proud of you. I’m getting tickets to every show and I’m making the guys come with me.”

“Okay.” I laughed, but I knew he was serious. I’m sure that at the next show I’m going to see the core of BO crew in the front row.

“But I’m serious, I love you.”

“I love you too Noah, thank you for being by my side for all of this.”

“Always.”

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian band #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian imagine #noahsebastian #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens cult #bad omens imagine

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upat4amwiththemoon · 11 months

Note

Hellooo!!! If you're not writing anything else at the moment, I was wondering if you could make a station 19 Natasha Ross x Montgomery! Sister reader!!

Brother’s boss

Summary: It’s not a secret if no one asked about it.

Pairing: Natasha Ross x Montgomery!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 961

a/n: Natasha Ross deserves more recognition!!

masterlists | guidelines

“When do you think you’ll get out of work?” Y/N asks, leaning against her girlfriend’s unofficial work desk. She wasn’t at her own office today, deciding to spend the day at Station 19.

Natasha glances at the clock, them turn to look at her girlfriend with an apologetic look on her face. “Late.” Y/N sigh, throwing her head back. Laye hours weren’t unusual for her, she works at Grey Sloan Memorial after all, but the Firs Chief’s duties seem to be never ending. “I’m really sorry, love.”

“It’s okay. This is your job and your job is important and you’re amazing.”

With a chuckle, Natasha stands up to kiss Y/N. Her hands are wrapped around her lower back, while Y/N’s are on her shoulders. She pushes her against the table. Unfortunately for Y/N, Natasha pulls away before things go any further, which makes her whine.

Giving her one last kiss, Natasha goes back to the desk full of paper work. “Go home, wat something and take a nap. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“Okay.” Y/N agrees, though she doesn’t hide her pout. “Love you, see you later.”

“I love you,” is the last thing Y/N hears before closing the door to the office.

Sighing, she starts descending the stairs, hoping not to run into any of the other firefighters, as none of them are aware of her and Natasha’s relationship. However, luck isn’t on her side today.

“Y/N!” Travis, her brother, runs up to her with Victoria. “What are you doing here?” He looks over the scrubs she’s wearing. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened.” She rolls her eyes, stopping in front of the best friends.

“Then why are you here?”

“To see Natasha.”

Travis scrunches his brows while Victoria raises hers. “You were with Chief Ross?” She questions, not understanding why the younger Montgomery would have any business with the fire department’s chief.

“I was.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re in a relationship.”

The lobby turns eerily quiet. Victoria’s eyes are wide as she takes in the sentence. Travis looks like he has frozen on his spot. Neither of them expected to hear that coming out of her mouth. Y/N stares at them expectantly, waiting for either of them to say anything. She doesn’t really care what anyone thinks about her, but this silence was starting to make her uncomfortable.

“You-“ Travis points at her, as if that’d make him articulate better, “you are dating out boss?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t understand how the word comes out of her mouth so easily. Yes. Like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Why in the world didn’t you think to tell me, that you are dating my boss?” His voice turns high pitched.

“You never asked.”

“I never-!” He takes a moment to compose himself, rubbing his face. He glances at Victoria, who is quietly laughing to herself. “This isn’t funny!”

She raises her hands in mock surrender, but there’s still a grin on her lips. “I’m sorry, but I think this is amazing. Go baby Montgomery.” She high fives her, making Travis groan.

As Victoria clearly doesn’t see the issue with this, Travis decides to handle it himself. Which is why he starts jogging towards Chief Ross’ office. “Travis!” Y/N shouts, running after him. “Don’t you dare do anything stupid and dramatic, or I’ll strangle you!”

But, Travis has already slammed the office door open. He stands in front of Chief Ross, who just stares at him, and opens his mouth only for nothing to come out. He clearly didn’t think this through. That is his boss after all.

By now, Y/N has caught up to him. “I’m sorry, Tasha. He is being stupid.”

“You’re dating my sister.” Is all he manages to get out.

“I am.”

“Chief, with all due respect, I think it is an inappropriate relationship.” Travis states, making Y/N hit his arm.

“Y/N isn’t part of the FD, I’m not her superior.”

“Well, she’s my younger sister.”

“Adult younger sister.” Natasha argues back, way calmer than Y/N would be capable of when it comes to her brother. “This is a consenting relationship between two adults, who are equal. So, what is the problem, Montgomery? Is it because we’re both women?”

Y/N snorts at the question, and Travis starts spluttering. “Of course not!” His hands wave around the room. “I am very proud that my sister is comfortable with her sexuality, but..but this-“ he tries to come up with anything, but he can’t.

“But this is my relationship,” Y/N steps in front of him, “and I love her and that’s the end of it.”

He sighs. It’s his sister’s relationship, he can’t do anything, no matter how uncomfortable it is to know his younger sister is dating his boss. “I know. But if you do anything to hurt her-“

Natasha interrupts him instantly, “you should remember that I am still your superior.”

“Yes, Chief.” He mumbles, gives Y/N a hug, and leaves the office.

Giggling, Y/N closes the door and goes to sit down on the desk. “That was funny, and kind of hot.” She whispers with a glint in her eyes.

Natasha shakes her head with a smile. “Now, don’t do anything or I won’t get any work done.”

“Can I at least stay here? Now that they know.”

“Of course.” She sets her hand on Y/N’s knee, the other hand signing all the needed papers.

They spend the rest of Natasha’s work day together, though mostly in silence, but it’s the good kind of silence. Where Natasha can work in peace and Y/N can admire her while she works, one of her favorite things to do.

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svcredveins · 12 days

Text

Here’s what will get us to win: never giving up.

That’s another issue with this community is that we are allowing those who are sexualizing women by just leaving and not doing any such action against it to end it. To end it entirely would be near impossible as that’s because it’s just how the world is unfortunately, but to at least rise above? Yes. That is possible. And what do they all want? A reaction. That’s literally the main reason - a reaction and to pleasure their own ego. It’s not worth giving them a reaction to them at all!

But to a point for your mental health, it is completely understandable by leaving or taking a break; I totally get that and I certainly don’t blame anyone for leaving at all because it is genuinely disgusting what they’re doing. They have every right to leave, but look at it this way:

We have a passion for the human heart and how it functions. That’s why this community exists right? If you are so passionate and don’t want to leave, then why leave? Love is always stronger than hate. Do what makes you happy! Everyone has a choice, but remember why you started.

We have met many amazing and kind people on here who do good too. Not everyone is a bad seed, so always remember about the good people you’ve met along the way. Talk to them more often if you are able to do so. They matter more!

Previously stated, there are good people here; we as humans always default to the negatives and think that they are everywhere on this app. Sure it may look like that, but what about the good people we’ve met along the way? The memories?

Bad things don’t last forever; remember that. There is a season for storms, there is a season for sunshine. Not everything is going to be okay, and that’s okay. It may be hard, but that is life and without tough circumstances, how can we grow as a human being?

I have met quite the bit of amazing people on here who are supportive and are kind. I’ve come across a couple of weirdos here and there but what do I do? I just ignore them; I don’t shift my focus entirely on them and just carry on with what I love doing. Sure I’ve answered twice to two weirdos, but my reaction is bold and to the point. If I need to say something, I will say it, and because I never mentioned my boundaries (I have subtly with what I am passionate about, but not literally speaking about it). I know it was just a couple, I know in comparison others have gotten so much sickening comments from thirsty men who want nothing but sex and see women only as a sex object and nothing else more, but the fact of the matter is, if you really want to stay, then stay. You do not have to because your mental health matters, but in order to rise above the haters, you must take action against these men who think nothing but only themselves and their dicks. Tumblr shouldn’t allow them to harass any women on this app.

We are strong women. We don’t owe men shit at all, and if they wanna be inappropriate, then let them watch porn if they want, but do not allow them to dictate your mind; block them. Do not show them anything. It’s their loss they have that low mindset; they will struggle in life because of their poor choices and very poor behaviour towards women. They will get their karma.

Even the new people who have joined, we gotta be there for them as well, we gotta be there for each other even more; that’s how deeper relationships grow. The world is a cold place and we gotta just spread more positivity than negativity. We just cannot allow the creeps to dictate how we feel about cardiophelia, or how we look, because again, they are driven by sexual pleasure, not by common sense and respect, and that’s entirely on them.

So ladies, we’ve got this. My DMs are open if anyone would like to vent about this, because I am entirely willing to help out and listen. We cannot let this community fall apart, because who else can we talk to about cardiophilia? Nobody else in person because they would think we’re creepy. But ultimately, it’s amazing how a community can build great relationships by just a simple app. Don’t let the buggers ruin it for us. They’re insecure and have huge egos.

That’s my piece of the cake. Thought I’d really vent about it as well. We gotta stand up everyone! That’s how this community won’t be dry like a desert. We gotta hype the new comers up and rise above the creeps. We’ve all got this! Nobody is ever alone. 🫀🙂

My apologies for copying this, Tumblr collapsed the reblog so it covered what I said haha, at least on my end and it’s like triple long haha. Anyway, that’s my little piece. Much love everyone 🖤

#cardiophilia #heartbeat #cardiophile #cardiophile thoughts #stethoscope #self stething #beating heart #female cardiophile #female heartbeat #i stand for cardiophilia

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depressedhatakekakashi · 11 months

Note

Going on my memories, I believe that, in the anime, Kakashi and Yamato told Naruto to wait until they were sure what Obito said was true before exposing it to everyone? That's the closest I'm getting to understanding Anon's POV.

I did actually look it up because someone else pointed out. Kakashi had reason’s for saying ‘don’t tell anyone’ and he specified that they would keep it between the three of them ‘for now’

His intention was never to sweep it under the rug and his reason’s are pretty valid

1) not wanting to cause unneccesary chaos (the village was just destroyed by pein they already have a lot to deal with)

2) not knowing if what Tobi said was true (which is valid tobi is an enemy they cannot trust his info blindly)

I will point out that when Naruto said to sasuke ‘i know the truth’ Kakashi did nothing to stop him from saying so. He didn’t remind him of what he’d said or tell Naruto not to say such things.

He allowed Naruto to speak without interruption. It shows his care for Naruto and Sasuke, but a genuine (and understandable) reluctance to believe everything they found out blindly or talk about it blindly,

Kakashi is never shown wanting to brush everything away and forget about it as the anon implied and that’s where i take issue. Yes Kakashi said ‘let’s not tell anyone right now’ but he never said ‘let’s pretend it never happened’

At the end of the day the massacure was forgotten about because Itachi asked Naruto to keep it a secret and Naruto agreed when he had no right to agree. It should have been up to Sasuke first and forenost but Kishi just sort of had him drop the whole thi g

What i would have liked to see if the storyline co tinue with Kakashi going back to Konoha and working with Sai and Yamato to find more information about the truth of the massacre. At least that way we would have seen those who were told about it (and who were closest to Itachi at the time it happened (other than sasuke of course)) trying to find out info for themselves

I think Kishi missed a really cool opportunity to continue the plot in different directions and while i don’t fully fault him (he was under a lot of stress to push through the main storyline) i do think it hurt the storyline by having Itachi and Naruto being the deciding factor on if the massacre was brought into the light instead of Sasuke

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good-beanswrites · 3 months

Note

I wanted to bring up a silly ship idea. Just for fun.

03, 06, 09, 10

Was this before Kotoko attacked them? After? I dunno.

Thoughts?

YES the cringefail 20yo polycule 👏👏👏 Thank you for the request! I've seen a lot about the individual pairs, so it was really fun to think about all their dynamics together! I have a set of hcs that could work in the current canon Milgram, and then a normal au set because it's so fun thinking about them :3

Milgram-focused

The I’m-a-loner-who’s-doing-it-for-justice-don’t-TOUCH-me pair finally meet their match when confronted with the I-loved-someone-so-much-and-don’t-plan-on-stopping pair. They all go into the relationship with grand ideas of love: they think it’s all heroic acts of saving, massive gestures or love, and dramatic confessions. Over time, they realize the real heroism/romance is in the little things.

Mahiru has her hands full with three people who neglect themselves for the sake of their work/interests, but she always loves feeding them and helping give them what they need. In turn, they can give her more affection and attention than she could ever ask for. They make sure someone is always around to spend time with her.

Each of the three is a perfect match for dealing with John’s reveal. Mahiru is calming and helps tone down Mikoto’s initial stress. Fuuta is honest and will help Mikoto finally confront his own situation and move forward. And since Kotoko can match his strength, Mikoto doesn’t need to be afraid of accidentally hurting anyone. Mikoto becomes less stressed with the overall situation as well as more accepting of himself/John.

I always love the idea that Fuuta is secretly starstruck by Kotoko and John’s strength. He’ll never admit how much he admires their ability to stand up and fight. He feels really safe around them. He’s glad to have the opportunity to fight for someone else, too – he likes to be Mahiru’s self-proclaimed protector and hero. (Even though most of the time she can stand up for herself, she still likes letting him take care of her.)

Kotoko’s experiences let her hold solid conversations with everyone. She’s similar enough to Fuuta where they share some interests (social issues, schooling, etc.) She understands hard work and burnout to earn Mikoto’s respect. She understands physical strength to earn John’s. She has a lot of people-knowledge, so she can gossip and talk about Tokyo life to Mahiru (Mappi’s doing most of the ‘gossiping,’ but Kotoko has solid additions). She's a good listener and has a good memory, so everyone feels heard by her.

They start to rub off on each other. Mahiru and Mikoto learn to be a bit tougher in standing up for herself. Fuuta, John, and Kotoko learn to take a breath before jumping right to violence. They stay very much who they are, but pick up on just a few habits that make their lives easier.

Their styles also influence one another: Fuuta gets pointers from all three about piercing his ears (though it takes him a long time to get up the nerve to do it). Mahiru helps the others dress more trendy and boost their confidence, and they teach her to worry less about her appearance and relax more.

If they get together T1, Kotoko is shocked by the T1 verdicts. She might pull away from everyone in initial horror, but after developing a relationship ahead of time, she doesn’t follow through with her attacks. If not, then maybe in T3 when Kotoko is suffering from her guilty verdict, Mahiru and Mikoto are able to bridge the gap and develop a friendship, leading to more. Fuuta would take longer to come around, but I think seeing Kotoko got through the same pain as him, his hero instincts would kick in and he’d gradually help.

Normal-au

Mahiru once again tries out her lovers’ interests, and gets a bunch of new hobbies. Fuuta teaches her to game, she works out with Kotoko, and she tries out photography with Mikoto. She becomes close with Fuuta’s beautician sister, and enjoys bonding over fashion and hair. She helps redye Mikoto’s hair, and give the other two pointers on style now and then. When going to nicer events, she and Mikoto have to step in and stop the others from their sneaker/hoodie combos. As the only one with a license, she’s the designated driver at all events, but doesn’t mind.

Fuuta uses his tech skills to set up social media accounts for the others. He helps Mahiru network her flower shop, fighting anyone who leaves a bad comment/review. He helps set up a complex online portfolio for Mikoto. He and Kotoko still have a passion for justice, and he becomes the tech brains behind her vigilante operations (very Ron Stoppable - Kim Possible) It’s not necessarily healthy growth, but they’re happy with it lmao

Mikoto is the only full-time worker, the others are all still in university, and he makes sure to keep them all on track. He knows the most efficient tricks and cheats about getting papers done, pulling all-nighters, and cramming before an exam. The others have learned to spot when he’s burning himself out for others, and will stop him when he tries to take on too much. They’ll take care of him and force him to rest. While he can still get into a bit of trouble, John learns to call them first and get some help.

Kotoko has trained herself to find people and information easily to catch criminals, but she finds use for it in much more mundane ways – she tracks down clients for Mahiru, snoops around Mikoto’s company to make sure he’s being treated right, and keeps an eye out for the people Fuuta is calling out and/or hanging out with. She goes on runs with Mahiru, and bike rides with Mikoto. Fuuta tags along sometimes to strengthen his legs for soccer.

There’s definitely potential for them all to have their murders pre- or mid- relationship, and they help one another improve themselves and heal. I’m also a sucker for the relationship itself to cause them to change their ways and narrowly avoid the murder in the first place. (For the latter, Mahiru would ironically be the last to join the relationship, since she’d still be with her bf until the other three inspire her to break it off with him gently.)

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #mahiru shiina #mikoto kayano #john milgram #kotoko yuzuriha #you got a peek at some in the first set but i cleaned them up and finally finished the second set >:3 #thank you for waiting asdfdsf these were really fun to think about :D #im loving the image of the four workout buddies asdfdsf #and id imagine their home is filled with photos as mikoto and mappi take a bunch of everyone :')#even in milgram i can see them snapping lots of shots #i know its harder to swing a post-attack relationship but i do think its possible given how intense everything is #just as prisoners were friends one day in t1 and enemies the next in t2 i think things can change fast #and yeah... im so sappy over them all picturing these massive gestures of love:#beating someone up to protect their lover - gifting them something elaborate - saving them from a burning building - planning an exotic dat #and instead they find that preparing a meal after a long day means the world to them #getting up early to workout and keep them company is huge #remembering little details about them and their interests changes their lives #<333 #OUGH now i just want them to be happy ;---;#headcanon time milgram

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autism-alley · 3 months

Note

i don't know if you answer asks but you're one of the few blogs still consistently posting pjo tv crit and it's been such a relief. with the amount of praise it's gotten i feel so gaslit like am i just being a baseless hater?? but no there's a reason a lot of the people criticizing the show are writers. it's a poorly written show and the more i think about it the more problems i find

like i was thinking about the way the kids in the show just know everything and how boring it is to watch, especially the casino scene, and something hit me

the lotus casino functions perfectly as a metaphor for traits associated with adhd--the need for stimulation and time blindness. anyone would fall for the casino's lure, but especially adhd kids. the fact that the show takes that away is REALLY weird to me, to put it kindly

if i were being less kind? i would say there's grounds to argue that having these characters, who are children with adhd, be impervious to something that is designed to trap people exactly like them is, on some level, erasure of their disabilities. especially since the one character who does get affected by it is the one who doesn't have the same neurodivergencies as the two who don't. the explanation for why percy and annabeth didn't start to forget themselves was such a lazy cop out and i can't believe people ate it up

i don't know what that writers' room has against literal adhd children falling for traps that are designed to trap people, but it's embarrassing for them tbh

i’m so glad to hear it anon!! i’m a little surprised to hear it too tbh, i wasn’t sure if anyone else was still. interested in discussing it? it seems like the pjo/atla fanbase overlap means most people have moved onto to the live action atla show. and while i am an atla fan, i didn’t grow up with the show the same way i grew up with the pjo books, so based on what we’d already seen/heard of the natla show before it even released + my utter disappointment and heartbreak regarding the pjo show, i decided to spare myself the watch. i would rather keep my memories of the original show untainted; what i have seen of the show resonates with people’s criticisms of the writing (and as someone who has done costuming work. one look is all you need to understand THAT criticism lmfao).

but i’m honestly… surprised? the pjo show did not get the same level of criticism as the natla show? it’s not like pjo is not also very popular with that same generation, sure, atla being a show perhaps made it more appealing and accessible to more kids, etc etc, sure. but from the fan bases themselves, size aside? proportionately? the pjo fandom is FULL of show defenders just blatantly ignoring the show’s major foundational issues if not just outright parading them around as successes, meanwhile the critics are in the minority. compare that with what i’ve seen where the complete opposite is true of the atla fandom, it’s weird!! and especially jarring to me bc it seemed pretty clear to everyone in the atla fandom the show had Issues, meanwhile the pjo fandom heard the promise from rick riordan’s very own mouth this show is going to be faithful to the series’ spirit. it’s so weird to see the wildly different responses to what i think are prolly equally bad reboot shows, with a fandom of similar demographics (clearly not the SAME demographics or the response would prolly be more aligned but you get my point). so i agree anon, i do feel a little gaslit by the pjo fandom, and watching the atla fandom’s very reasonable response to the natla show is like. whiplash. another sign you and i are not losing it lmao

as for the lotus casino, this is an excellent point! i don’t even think it can be called unkind to point out how this episode is a symptom of the show’s overall disability erasure. i would say it’s unkind of the show to erase adhd and dyslexia representation. in fact, because of the explicit promise by its creator to see that representation, i would go as far as to call it cruel to then erase it. if anything, based on rick’s promises to add more representation, i was hoping for elements like autistic annabeth confirmation, since when pjo was first written, it was based off rick’s son and his friends who were all ND, and at the time it wasn’t thought to be possible to be AuDHD, but likely some of those kids probably were (and that then made its way into the books in characters like annabeth!). that would have been the perfect opportunity to add something with the foresight of modern times, but instead we got… absolutely no disability rep from the show aside from a few short lines of dialogue as a lame-ass bone-toss to the book fans.

the pjo show’s biggest crime is its lack of spirit of the original book series, and that book series cradled myself and every other ND child or child in an abusive situation who read it. it offered us a mother who never got angry with us when we showed “difficult” symptoms. it offered us camp half-blood, the idea of a place, a home, where people like us were not just accepted, but thrived. it offered us a new world. it offered us a friend in percy jackson. i do not feel the show truly offers anything substantial. it only takes.

#anon going ‘i’m so glad you’re still posting pjo show crit’ had me whipping my head around like ‘YOU ARE?’#so thank you anon lmao #i’m still like. marinating in the idea of making a pjo discord server (where crit is welcome)#i don’t know if anyone would still be interested now the like. hype/reverse hype for the show is dying down #and truly excellent point i had not been able to put my finger on why that scene got under my skin so bad #pjo show crit #pjo tv crit #ris raves

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afterdarkprincess · 6 months

Text

A Moment Backstage

Relationship: Sami/Jey Rating: Gen Summary: Sami and Jey share an interaction backstage before the Tag Title Rematch (set during Nov 13th 2023 Monday Night Raw) -- Did I have several other things to write? yes but this just would not leave me alone, so here we are.

tags for @feelschicken, @imabillyami @southerngirl41 @elementaldoughnut12 @harmshake and @jeysbvck (if anyone else would like to be tagged or I forgot someone let me know!)

AO3 Link

---

Jey paces backstage, headphones over his ears blasting music as he pumps himself up for the tag match. What ifs and worries plague his mind and he’s restless about not just the tag team rematch tonight but the Wargames match ahead of them.

Finn and Damien had been trying to eg them on earlier, Sami was right about that, but all the things they said had been true, especially about him. Jey has betrayed every single one of his current team members in the name of his cousin and his family.

He’s been plagued by this issue ever since his return and debut on Monday Night Raw, the mistakes of his past refusing to leave him be. All the things he’d never really wanted to do that Roman had made him do anyway.

His mind flashes to Elimination Chamber, the clip they’d showed last week of him with a chair in hand, tears dripping from his eyes and falling onto the mat as Roman screamed at him. In the end he couldn’t do it, couldn’t take the chair to Sami in the same way he’d done to KO. But he wasn’t brave enough to put the chair in Roman’s back either. A failure on both accounts.

Sami had waved it off, said it was all in the past now, but sometimes when Jey looks at him all he sees are those moments. Flowers strewn across the ring from the tattered lei, red like blood against the canvas as Sami turns to him with tears in his eyes. Watching his brothers attack Sami as if the last year never happened.

Jey wipes a hand over his eyes as if that will wash the painful memories away, thinks about retrieving his water bottle from wherever he’s left it this time, trying to get back out of his head. Sami appears in the locker room before him, the soft smile on his face a hard contrast to the anguish in his memories.

“Hey, my dawg!” Sami says cheerfully, “Just wanted to-oh!”

Jey cuts him off by pulling him in for a tight hug and not letting go. The waves of emotion that had swelled since the top of the show threatening to overtake him as he clutched Sami to him.

“M’sorry, Uce. I’m sorry-“ Jey mumbles into the crook of Sami’s shoulder, keeping his face hidden for what it might show. “Never wanted t’hurt you.”

Sami’s arms wrap around to hold Jey just as tightly, and the ginger laughs nervously. “Hey, hey now- s’okay Jey. What’s this about?” His hands press against Jey’s shoulders to make some space between them but they stay there as to not let him get away.

Jey sniffles and rubs a hand on his face, trying to be discreet as he wipes the tears away. “I dunno, Uce, just thinkin’” He shakes his head. “‘Bout what those guys was sayin’ earlier. I did a lot of messed up shit, and like Cody n’ I talked it out right? And the stuff wit’ Seth is whatever, don’ really care what that guy thinks…”

“They were trying to mess with us, Jey. Don’t let them get in your head.” Sami’s face is soft, and the understanding look in his eyes is doing nothing to assuage Jey’s guilt.

“Sami, I messed up wit’ you. Big time.” Jey struggles to find words. “I was- nah you was the best thing that ever happened to me, Uce. Me n’ Jimmy was champs but being Roman’s pawn was eatin’ at me and I wasn’t good. M’not gonna apologize again for how I was actin’ before Wargames cause I know you ain’t gonna hear it, we past that. But Elimination Chamber? And all those months before Wrestlemania?” Jey hung his head in shame.

One of Sami’s hands moves to the nape of Jey’s neck and it’s all he can do not to lean into the warm touch. “Jey, I don’t blame you for that. You were in a tough spot, you were protecting Jimmy, I understand.”

He doesn’t and it hurts. “You don’ know, Sami. How hard that was. Seein’ you with KO, and feelin’ like I should hate you but I couldn’t cause you was right. And that night that I came back? I wanted to pick you so bad, Uce. I just- I couldn’t.” Jey lifts his head again to meet Sami’s eyes. “I just- I’m sorry.”

Sami’s face is unreadable, and he takes a moment to respond.

“I forgive you,” He finally responds. “I forgive you and I’m sorry too. I didn’t make that easy, I mean everybody told me I should leave you alone and I just couldn’t.” Sami bites his lip.

Jey feels the weight he’s been carrying for all these months fall off his shoulders. “You never gave up on me.”

Sami pulls Jey back into his arms and claps him on the back. “Never, my dawg.”

Jey stares as Sami releases him, the swirl of emotions in his head clouding his judgement as his gaze falls from Sami’s eyes to the flushed pink of his chapped lips. And for a moment he lets himself think about how good those lips would feel against his own.

He shakes the thought away, unwilling to jeopardize the progress he’s made tonight. “Me n’ Cody gonna kick Judgement Days asses but… I’d feel better knowin’ you’d have my back.”

“Even though I can’t be out there tonight, I always got your back, Jey.”

For a second Jey thought he caught Sami’s eyes dropping to his lips and his heart leapt but that same second Cody appears in the doorway.

“Ey Uce, it’s go time.”

Sami coughs and takes a step back. “I uh- I gotta head out,” He touches Jey’s chest playfully. “You’re gonna do great.”

The action, one both of them had done countless times, is charged with energy.

“See you after?” He keeps his voice neutral as he steps backwards toward Cody.

Sami nods, “We’ll celebrate with waffles!”

Jey walks out the door and follows Cody down the corridor towards gorilla.

“You ready for this?”

Jey nods, and for the first time all evening, he believes it.

-----

Thank you for reading! :) I'm gonna work on my other WIPs now and not start new ones (she said, like a liar)

#samijey #sami zayn #jey uso #main event jey uso #monday night raw #wwe fanfiction

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chibrary · 4 months

Text

source: motorsport-magazin series: f1, 2018

Charles Leclerc showed an impressive rookie year in 2019. The Ferrari junior lived up to his early praise in the Sauber. Before the season finale in Abu Dhabi, he is just two points behind Romain Grosjean in Haas with 33 points. Enough to oust Kimi Raikkonen at Ferrari in 2019. The young Monegasque and the Iceman swap cockpits. Questions about Ferrari’s future and about his future teammate Sebastian Vettel were not allowed in the interview. Motorsport-Magazin.com and Leclerc still had plenty to talk about.

If you do well, this will be our last interview. So you’re under pressure! Charles Leclerc: Why?

Because Ferrari drivers usually don’t have to speak 1:1 to writing media from Germany. Charles Leclerc: Oh, okay.

I don’t know if you remember our first interview. Last year in Abu Dhabi when you were driving F2. Charles Leclerc: Wasn’t that earlier? After an FP1 outing with Haas maybe?

You seem to have a good memory. I didn’t count the media rounds, just the interviews. Charles Leclerc: Then it’s true!

In Abu Dhabi it wasn’t quite sure whether you would drive for Sauber in 2018. The only thing that was certain was that you wouldn’t have a chance to drive victories in your rookie year in Formula 1. Back then you said it would be the same as with Alonso with Minardi. Do you think you’ve achieved something similar to what Alonso did this season? Charles Leclerc: Puuuuh… I’m honestly really bad at history [laughs].I can’t really remember what people thought of him back then. But I’m happy with my season. I don’t want to compare it to anyone else’s season. It would strike me as rather arrogant to say that it was similar to Alonso’s. But yes, I’m satisfied and I can definitely say: I never expected that we would be so strong and that the progress over the year would be so big.

Without comparing yourself to anyone else in the field, do you feel that you and the team have achieved something extraordinary this season? Charles Leclerc: I think it was a special season. If we look at where the team has been over the last year and where we are now - it sure impressed some people in the paddock. Formula 1 is a tough sport and the level of competition is very high. All teams work at a very high level. To see the progress we’ve made over the season is impressive.

We have a driver ranking, one by the users and one by us. You’re currently in fifth place… Charles Leclerc: Who are the four in front of me?

Hamilton, Vettel, Verstappen and Raikkonen. Charles Leclerc: Yes, I saw it. I check a lot of media [laughs].

You secured your place in the last few races in particular. At the beginning of the season things weren’t going so well. What was the issue? Charles Leclerc: I didn’t have much experience, I didn’t do much testing. So I had to learn everything during the race weekends. It was not easy. For me that is clearly the reason for the problems at the beginning of the season. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted from the car and gave the engineers the wrong direction. That was bad, but together with the engineers we finally found the right way. As soon as we implemented that in the car in Baku, we made a big step forward.

It seems to be a pattern in your career. You were anything but confident at last year’s Formula 2 tests, and at the start of this Formula 1 season too. Need some time to get started, but then you really get going? Charles Leclerc: I think one of my real strengths is understanding what the problems are and then improving them, whether it takes time or not. Of course, at the beginning of the season I had the three bad races, that felt like a lot. But then, looking back, three races doesn’t feel like much for a car that’s so different. So I don’t really know. You can probably judge it better from the outside. From the outside it’s clearer if it’s fast or too slow. But in the end I’m happy with my season.

What was the biggest difference for you compared to all the junior series? Charles Leclerc: Definitely the power and the downforce, that’s very different. It’s like a jump from two, three junior categories. Quite large. Then all the systems in Formula 1 that you can control via the steering wheel. In the smaller categories you can change these systems, but after a session. You come back to the pits and talk to the engineers. In Formula 1 you have to do everything yourself, corner by corner.

Did you know that your teammate Marcus Ericsson is a career killer? Kobayashi, Nasr, Wehrlein… Charles Leclerc: [grins] I saw that a few times in the media too. Every teammate of Marcus… yes, but I don’t believe stories like that.

So you weren’t afraid you only got one chance? Charles Leclerc: Oh no, never. Never.

Because you’re so confident? Every racer somehow thinks of himself as the fastest, right? Charles Leclerc: I wouldn’t say that. At least not in my case.I never thought about ranking the drivers and determining who is the fastest. I honestly believe that anyone can be the best driver in the field. For me, the one who has understood best how to maximize his potential is the best. That’s the most important thing for me. Sure, some riders have more talent, but in the end someone who works hard can get there.

I think it’s more about understanding how to reach your own limit. This is particularly important. So ranking is very difficult. I think you can do it for a season, but ranking a rider as a whole is very difficult. Every driver can be as good as anyone else if he finds his limit. The only thing that counts is how long you ride at this level. So I don’t really focus on the others. I just focus on myself and try to get the maximum potential out of myself.

How much of your potential have you already shown? Charles Leclerc: There is definitely a lot more to do. There is always more that you can use. But for the first season, apart from the first three races, I’m pretty happy.

What was the key for you this season? Charles Leclerc: [thinking] Probably managing a whole weekend, with FP1, FP2, FP3, qualifying, Q1, Q2, Q3, and then the race. This is very different compared to what you are used to from the other categories. It’s a weekend that builds up very slowly and it’s very important to work your way through all these sessions to be at the top at exactly the right time - in qualifying.

Is there a single scene that you remember in particular? A real key moment? Charles Leclerc: Probably the call from Maurizio that I will be driving a Ferrari next year. That’s something I’ll always remember.

And on the route? Charles Leclerc: Hard to say. But in any case, the duels with Fernando taught me a lot about racing.

As a driver, you learned a lot in 2018. Would you say that you have also learned a lot as a person? You seem to have a decent standing in Formula 1 for a rookie, for example when you heavily criticized Kevin Magnussen. Charles Leclerc: Maybe it’s the image I’m giving. But the most important thing I think is that I’m honest with myself. With what I think I prefer being like this to saying things in front of the media when I’m actually thinking something else. I’m not really like that. I just say what I think. It comes across as a bit direct to the media at times, but that’s my personality .I prefer to be like this.

That’s good for us! Charles Leclerc: [laughs]

Is there any weakness that you still see in yourself? Charles Leclerc: Of course. You always have weaknesses. To name one … what do I take … clearly experience, I’m still missing something, but I wouldn’t call that a weakness. But just overall as a flaw. Every time I have a problem I focus on it to get better. There is always something you can get better at.

We thought about it in the editorial office. The only obvious mistakes we remembered were spins in the rain. So you’re not a rain god yet? Charles Leclerc: [laughs] No, I think riding in the rain is my forte, which sounds strange. Just not yet in Formula 1. But I’m working very hard on it. It’s a very different feeling with the power steering compared to Formula 2 and GP3. There, or rather in all junior categories, the steering wheel is directly connected to the wheels, there is no power steering, so you feel everything. It’s different in Formula 1 and different teams also use different power steering. It really depends on the team. To be honest, in the rain I don’t have full confidence in the power steering that we have here. That’s why I had most of the problems - and I definitely had problems. But in all other series I was always strong in the rain. I just have to keep working and find that feeling in Formula 1 again. A few more kilometers and I’m sure I’ll find it again.

#series:f1 #format:interview #year:2018

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 1 year

Text

Brotherly Comfort

Summary - Part 16 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure)

Warnings - mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage,

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I just wanna start by thanking you for all the likes, reblogs and follows since my last post, I really appreciate it. I know this can be a tough topic for some people, I apologise if this brings up any memories for anyone – remember that you’re not alone and help is available.

After a few days recuperating at Bobby’s, you’re finally back in the Bunker. But since you got home Dean’s been twice as protective as when you were pregnant, if that was even possible. During the first few days he refuses to give you more than a brisk kiss or cuddle in bed despite getting the all-clear from the doctor – provided you use protection for three to four months – not that you have ever really been in the mood anyway. And despite your initial open line of communication, you both eventually shut down. Every time one of you tries to broach the subject the other shuts down. After a while, you start to barely see each other. Dean delivers you three meals a day and runs baths to ensure you’re maintaining the bare necessities for survival, but you can barely call what you’re doing living. And you can barely call your relationship an engagement, he’s become much more like your carer. He takes you to bed but gets up soon after, leaving you to sleep and wake up in a cold empty bed. He hasn’t even been on a hunt since you got home. He’s so focused on researching ways to banish all the evil and also ways to protect against future pregnancy issues.

You wake up to the cold, empty bed that you’ll never get used to. You subconsciously touch your stomach and curl up into a ball hugging Dean’s pillow to your chest. You feel like you have no tears left to cry, at this point, you’re starting to just feel numb. The door swings open, startling you.

“Come on, get up, I have a lead and you’re coming!”

You turn around and stare blankly at the taller Winchester, “I’m not…You’d be safer with someone else. Take Dean.”

“Dean’s on a hunt with Bobby so you’re coming with me. Get up.”

“Sam-”

Sam takes a seat on the bed beside you. “I know what you went through was traumatic and sad and I wish it never happened, I really do. But I can’t watch the pair of you wither away in depression. You need to find a way to start living again. You and Dean can and will get through this and you’ll try again – the pair of you used to go at it like rabbits in here and when you get through this, well I’ll have to find my earplugs again I’m sure. Once that happens it won’t be long before we’re hearing the cries of new life. One day you’re gonna be an amazing mother, but for now, you just need to get out of bed and find yourself again. So come with me, I’ve got a lead on some strange deaths in Illinois. You come with me and let out some stress by putting a few bullets in whatever’s doing it and we call it a day.”

“I don’t know, Sam. What if it goes wrong? What if I can’t defend myself or protect you? It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the field.”

“Just one step at a time. Just come with me, and if you still feel like you can’t do it when we get there, stay back at the motel. At least get out of the bunker for a few days. Look, Y/N, you’re like a sister to me…you and Dean get married you will officially be my sister-in-law. I just hate seeing you like this.”

“And what’s Dean think of this?”

“Bobby’s got him distracted. He’ll understand later. You both need this. You need to find yourselves again and then you’ll find your way back to each other.”

“Fine, I’ll come with you but I’m only coming for the ride. I haven’t hunted in months I’m not reliable.”

“You’re a badass hunter, you don’t lose those instincts in a few months. But we’ll just see how you feel when we get there. I promise won’t force you to hunt if you’re not ready. But you need to get out of bed and out of the bunker.”

“Alright. Give me half an hour to shower, change and pack.”

“I’ll be in the library when you’re ready.”

You do as promised and join Sam in the library half an hour later with your bag, filled with your original knife and gun as well as toiletries and a few outfits.

“We doing this?” you ask as you walk into the room.

“Yep.” Sam stands up and leads the way to the garage. “You like the red car, right?”

“Yeah, I do, but don’t tell Dean or Baby.”

“You take the first shift driving, I wanna keep researching.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The sun is just beginning to set when you and Sam pull a park at a cheap-looking motel in Peoria, Illinois. Sam goes to the reception to get a room while you wait in the car. The eight-plus hour drive ended up being quite enjoyable. You listened to music that Dean would never allow through Baby’s speakers and sang along. When Sam took a turn driving you even listened to one of his favourite serial killer podcasts and you found yourself very intrigued. You and Sam had never been on a hunt together without Dean, but now you were wishing you had. You know if you ever told Dean about this trip and how much fun you’d had just driving he’d get super jealous and upset, even though you’ve only ever seen Sam as a friend or brother. That’s not to say your road trips with Dean aren’t fun, they’re just different. You always sing along with Dean’s classic rock music too, but he doesn’t like trying new things or talking much. Serious conversations are a rarity in your relationship, although he has been trying harder recently. Prior to Bobby’s recent meddling, the only times you’ve really been able to have a serious conversation with him is after a fight, injury, sex or if he’s drunk enough to let down his guard. In fact, that was how the two of you started dating: he was drunk and horny after a tough hunt. You’d been hunting with them for a few months at this point and despite getting along better with Sam, your heart and body wanted Dean. So you took the plunge; you got between him and the blonde he’d been hitting on at the bar and went in for the kiss. Then you turned around and told the blonde that he was taken. Shocked by your actions Dean just stared at you until you dragged him out to the backseat of the Impala.

“Y/N? Did you hear me? Room 10,” you hear Sam say, waking you from your reverie.

“Yeah, sorry,” you say shaking your head and taking the car out of park. Sam leads the way to the room as you pull up in front. He helps you grab your bags and goes inside.

“How about you get comfy? Shower, whatever you need to do and I’ll pick us up some dinner,” Sam says as he dumps his bag on the bed nearest to the door.

“Ok,” you say, tossing him the car keys. You watch him walk out then go for a shower and change into comfier clothes. When he returns you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop on your lap going over the news articles and lore that Sam had sent you for the case. He hands you a paper bag and a soda, you look over at him and see that he has a beer.

“You know I’m not pregnant anymore, Sam…”

“Right, of course. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, rectify this situation. I thought this trip was all about me finding normality again?”

He nods and hands you his beer and gets himself another from the six-pack he bought. You open it and take a big sip and make a face as you swallow. “I never did really like beer. Wine and cocktails are much better, but don’t tell Dean that either.”

“Then why’d you want the beer?”

“Normality, Sam. This is how we always start a hunt. And if you want the truth, it reminds me of Dean.”

“Of course. Hey, Y/N, can I ask you a question?”

“Always.”

“Why Dean? I just mean, you and I have always gotten on better…if I’m honest, that night at the bar I thought you were gonna kiss me and then you went over and kissed him instead…”

“Did you want me to kiss you?”

“Maybe…But that’s not the point.”

“Sam, you can’t say this to me now. I thought you were all for me and Dean fixing things. We’re engaged. We almost had a kid together. I love him.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t even know why I brought it up. Things just felt different in the car today, I guess. It reminded me of old times, you know…before you and Dean…”

“You said it yourself earlier, you’re going to be my brother-in-law soon. We’re close, but not like Dean and I are. I have always had fun with you, and while we do get along better most of the time, we never fight, and I still generally go to you first when anything’s wrong, and Dean knows all of that. But that’s just because it’s easier with you. Maybe, it should have been you, maybe…But I can’t really explain it. I was just never attracted to you like that, not that you’re not good-looking, you are. I just-”

“Dean just gets all the girls…I get it. Even engaged he can get any girl’s number with just a look.”

“He’s been getting other girl’s numbers?”

“He always throws them out. I think he just likes to know that he can. He’d never act on it. He knows how good he’s got it with you.”

“Maybe not. I might not be able to give him a family…”

“And you think those other girls can or would? They just want a good lay.”

“I love you, Sam, but you’re like a brother to me. I’m sorry if you wanted things to be different between us but I’m with Dean now. And despite our fights and issues, I hope I always will be. The heart wants what it wants. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but I hope we can work past this. We’re family.”

“I just…he doesn’t treat you right. You deserve to be treated like a queen or like the badass hunter you are, but instead, he treats you like a child and locks you in the bunker. I can see the effect it has on your confidence. All you have is sex, all you’ve ever had is sex.”

“Sam, that’s not true. Is he overprotective sometimes? Sure. But he means well.”

“But you stopped having sex and now what? You’re barely talking.”

“That’s not why and you know it!”

Sam gets up and storms into the bathroom slamming the door behind him. You down the rest of the beer, grimacing at the burn in your throat. You try to focus back on the cases in front of you to block out Sam’s troublesome confession and accusation. The words all jumble together, so you grab your keys and go sit in the car instead. You can’t bring yourself to drive so you pull your phone out. Before you can stop yourself, you’re dialling Dean’s number.

“Hey, sorry I left without saying anything, I had to come help Bobby with something.”

“I know, it’s fine. I just need to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Is there more to our relationship than sex?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“Just tell me the truth, Dean.”

“Of course. You make me feel safe, happy, and hopeful. All feelings I haven’t felt since I was four. You make me want to be a better man. You give me a reason to live and fight harder to get to the other side of this dangerous, messy life we lead. You make me believe there is a way out. I don’t tell you every day, even though I should, but I love you. I just…since you lost the baby…I guess I’ve felt lost. Like maybe there isn’t a way out or a future for us.”

“Dean…don’t say that.”

“You wanted the truth…I knew I never should have got my hopes up. You let me believe and then you let me down, again.”

“Don’t you dare blame me! I wasn’t sure either, and you’re the one that convinced me! You’re the one that told me it would be okay. I know you’re hurting, Dean, but so am I.”

“Hunters just aren’t meant to have relationships or families or futures.”

“Dean, baby, please. That’s not true.”

“Look around, sweetheart, it is.”

You feel like you’re suffocating in the confines of the car, you yank at the handle and stumble out as quickly as you can. You take a few deep breaths of fresh air and then crumble to the cold road in tears. You hang up without saying a word.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

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davnittbraes · 2 years

Text

I’m Here

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8,546 and every single one of them is pure, unabashed self-indulgence

Warnings etc: reader is described as being in a long term previous relationship, smut (piv, unprotected, oral f!receiving), angst, fluff, description of disgustingly cliché meet-cute, established relationship, mentions of past abusive relationship, anxiety, big beefy cuddly dogs, light BDSM, breathplay, like HEAVY breathplay to some people, physical restraint, Dom/Sub dynamics, Soft!Dom Marcus, Sub!Reader, Praise kink out the wazoo

Notes aka Writer’s Plea For Mercy: This was supposed to be a ~200 word drabble, then I mentally vomited some paragraphs onto a page as part of my attempt at working through some life shit and here we are. GIF chosen because those GODDAMN HANDS STARTED THIS WHOLE THING.

You shut the lid of your laptop with a little more force than necessary - not enough to get IT pissed off at you, just enough to satisfy your urge to shove the memory of that three hour long meeting-that-could-have-been-an-email out of your mind for the rest of the night.

You definitely didn’t want to be thinking about work right now.

Because Marcus was coming over tonight.

Your handsome, sweet, caring boyfriend Marcus.

A silly, girlish grin steals over your expression before you can stop it.

You’d just went “official” with Marcus last week, after the two of you had talked about how amazing the last couple months had been. You’d met at a café - a stereotypical meet-cute that you were only a little embarrassed by, both for its eye-rolling cheesiness and your role in the entire thing.

You had been on the phone, negotiating a contract and had accidentally grabbed his coffee when it came up. He had chased you down, there was an awkward exchange and you’d apologized profusely. But you’d run into him a couple more times after that and eventually neither of you could ignore the mutual attraction. A few dates had gradually turned into spending most nights and days off together and eventually both of you had realized you had no interest in seeing anyone else right now.

So, now he was your boyfriend Marcus.

Your heartbeat does a little skipping series of flutters and you huff in amusement. It seems so silly, reacting this way at your age, but really, you’ve never felt this… light, before. Being with Marcus is so comfortable, so effortless.

So vastly different from your previous experience.

After twelve years of trying to make a toxic marriage work, you had finally seen it for what it was and filed for divorce. Now, two years later, ink dry on the divorce papers and several therapy sessions giving your step a little more confidence, you’re finding out what it means to be in a healthy relationship with someone, and you’re practically giddy with it, despite your efforts to stay level-headed.

Which is all well and good, but you know what’s best. You shouldn’t dive right into another serious romantic relationship, not after the last one. So you’re moving slowly with Marcus, keeping a little bit of yourself in reserve, just in case.

Including your… proclivities.

Your nose wrinkles in sudden self-awareness, idly sifting through your thoughts.

Marcus is a sweet guy. The definition of sweet. Tooth-rotting, saccharine-sweet. And so kind, and understanding, and supportive - he’s been your rock over the last couple months, making sure you don’t get too lost in your work, sending you silly cat memes throughout the day, patiently listening to your venting about your issues with work and family with genuine sympathy.

The exact opposite of your ex-husband, who was usually too wrapped up in his own shit to have any clue what was going on with you.

Marcus has been exactly what you need in your life right now. He’s happy to move slowly, too, having just got out of a cancelled engagement and a failed marriage before that. His own therapy sessions had taught him to find validation in himself and not others, allowing him to ease into relationships instead of immediately going all in. In fact, you had been seeing each other for three weeks before you had sex, even though you had definitely wanted to before then, and only held back on mutual agreement.

A little frisson of arousal wends its way through your core, remembering that night.

God, what a great night.

You’d been practically swimming in your panties after lusting after him for weeks, and fuck, did he ever make it up to you. There were still parts of that night that were blurry, you’d come so many times they all just ran together at one point. He was amazing, the perfect mix of attentive and confident, and of course, his signature sweetness had your heart squeezing tight in your chest.

Sitting back in your chair, you tap your fingertip against your laptop thoughtfully, your nails clicking on the plastic.

Yeah, the sex is great. Some of the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, actually. And you definitely don’t want to give that up. You don’t want to give Marcus up.

But.

There’s that little part of you, the part that you’ve shoved away deep down, never allowing it to see the light of day, hidden behind a queasy feeling of uncertainty. It’s a part that wants a little bit more, a little harder, a little rougher. A part that you’ve never shown anyone, for fear of ridicule.

Also for fear of how far you would let it take control.

But after your divorce, after realizing how much of yourself you had pushed aside for the sake of keeping your ex-husband happy, you had realized… maybe you wanted to see. Maybe you wanted to let that instinct take over, and see what it felt like, with a partner you could trust not to shy away from it.

And sweet, sugary Marcus?

Marcus, who presses soft kisses along your temple as he undresses you? Marcus, who holds you gently while he carefully pulls pleasure from your body? Marcus, who murmurs tender admirations into the crook of your neck as he slowly slides inside you?

There was no way he’d be into that. And you’re not willing to bring it up and risk scaring him away.

You’ve survived this long without giving that more… intense part of you any satisfaction. Maybe right now you need to focus on just being happy, and not worry about the future. You don’t need to give in to that darker side of you to enjoy sex, and you definitely don’t need it to be happy with someone.

And you are.

You’re happy.

That silly little grin curves your mouth again. You try to temper it with a healthy dose of easy, girl, taking it slow, remember? but you can’t help it when your phone buzzes and you see it’s a text from Marcus asking how your meeting went and saying he can’t wait to see you tonight.

Ok, so maybe a giggle even slips out.

But you’re happy.

Standing up with a purpose, you look around your office.

And why shouldn’t you be? You had worked hard to get here, almost a decade’s worth of toiling to prove yourself, shoving your way into your dream job and succeeding on pure determination and skill. With some sweet-talking to cover up the simultaneous arm-twisting, yesterday you had finally earned your spot in a role where you could make an actual difference.

Which was exactly why Marcus was coming over tonight. He wanted to celebrate your promotion by making you dinner, and even though you had protested at first, he’d won you over with a little sweet-talking and arm-twisting of his own.

He’d been getting better at that, talking you into letting him do things for you, but it was still weird to you. For pretty much your entire life and certainly your entire marriage, you had been extremely self-sufficient, independent to a fault. You never asked for help unless you truly needed it, and had exhausted all other options. You didn’t exactly hate people doing things for you, but you did feel a sort of guilty about it. The thought of putting someone out, making someone feel obligated to do things for you made your stomach turn.

But it was deeper than that, too.

The possibility of liking it when people do things for you, maybe even growing to need it, was terrifying.

Your life had been full of abandonments, let downs and disappointments. You had learned not to rely on anyone but yourself.

But sweet, kind Marcus, with his adorable dimpled grin and warm brown eyes and soothing voice…

Sighing in a manner that you refuse to label as “dreamy,” you head out of your office to the bathroom for a quick shower before Marcus arrives.

Sure, Marcus had wormed his way through the tiniest of cracks in your defenses. Which was fine, as long as you were aware of it. And, of course, made sure that’s all you allowed him.

***

A polite rap on your front door snaps your attention from the kitchen counter you’re wiping down, and you only have a split second to register the sound before all hell breaks loose.

Two hundred pounds of canine in the form of two bull-mastiffs tear through the house toward the front door, your shouted command to calm down lost amidst the scramble of large paws on the floor and deep, rumbling barks that echo throughout the entryway.

“Seriously guys, calm down.” You make your way to the door, weaving in-between the masses of brown fur and beefy muscle. “Fred, Ginger, hush, go on, get out of here.”

The dogs reluctantly obey, even if only enough for you to open the door.

Marcus.

Warm brown eyes and a dimpled smile fill your vision, and you pause for a moment to take in the sight of him, dressed in blue jeans and a dark red henley that does all kinds of wonderful things to his chest and arms.

Meeting his smile with one of your own, you lean a shoulder against the door-frame, feigning nonchalance while your heart flutters with excitement. “You know you can just come in, you don’t have to knock.”

His grin widens. “I like to give the welcoming committee a chance to feel important.”

As if on cue, the dogs squeeze past you and out the door, immediately swarming Marcus, tongues lolling through big grins and tails thwacking against his legs. You snort softly in amusement as he leans down to scratch them both behind the ears, one at a time since his other hand is holding a bag of groceries.

“Here, let me.” Stepping forward, you snag the handle of the bag from his fingers. “Better come in or they’ll have you trapped out here all night.”

He steps into your space, hand cupping your jaw and tilting your lips up for a kiss. It’s gentle and sweet, and so quintessentially Marcus - as is the mischievous twinkle in his gaze when he pulls away. “There are worse ways to spend my time.”

Your hands drift up his chest, feeling the warmth of him underneath his shirt. “Like this, you mean?”

His mouth curves in an answering smile as he pulls away to look at you, brown eyes warm with affection. “Not even close.”

“Such a charmer.” You press another quick kiss to that boyish smile before turning to step back inside.

His chuckle of amusement as the big dogs try to weave between his legs follows you through the house and into the kitchen.

Setting the bag down on the counter, you start parceling through the groceries, avoiding his gaze. “So what are we cooking?”

“‘We’ are cooking nothing. I am cooking dinner while you relax.” He slides closer to you, arm looping around your waist and tugging you gently away from the counter.

You hold your ground, planting your feet. “I can help. You don’t have to -“

His lips suddenly press to yours, soft but insistent, and you’re temporarily overwhelmed by the feeling of Marcus, warm and broad and steady, mouth moving oh-so-sweetly against yours as he chases the whimper that squeezes from your throat.

Suddenly he’s pulling away and your hands grasp at his shirt on instinct, tugging him back. Your eyelids drift open and you catch the smirk on his face, and realization clicks. “Distracting me won’t work.”

“I beg to differ.” His fingers curl around the nape of your neck, tilting your head back so he can trail his lips over your jaw, pausing to press a kiss just below your ear, and you stifle the sigh of pleasure that slips from your mouth.

The curl of his lips on your skin tells you he caught the sound anyway.

His hand on your waist slides up, thumb brushing the curve of your breast, but you resist the urge to arch into his touch. “If you keep this up neither of us will be cooking tonight.”

He huffs softly against your neck. “Fair enough.” Pulling back, he meets your gaze, playful smirk replaced with open earnestness. “Let me make dinner for you. Please.”

“I swear, you’re one second away from actually pouting.”

“If that’s what it takes to get you to sit down for once.”

You roll your eyes, smiling at his determination. “Fine. I won’t help with dinner. Compromise: I’ll get the dogs set for the evening while you cook.” He opens his mouth to protest but you keep talking. “That way we can just relax after dinner, maybe watch a movie?”

The slight narrowing of his eyes means he sees your diversion, but after a moment he relents, hands smoothing down your back as he shakes his head. “One of these days I’m going to convince you to let me take care of you like you deserve.”

A sharp twinge of guilt and shame stabs through your stomach, nauseating, and you shove it deep down as you step away from Marcus. “And one of these days I’m not going to cave to those puppy dog eyes of yours.”

His begrudging chuckle follows you as you head toward the patio door to let the dogs out, their heavy paws scuffling along behind you.

***

Dinner was delicious, the movie an old favourite that allowed the two of you to chat quietly about your day without missing anything. Marcus had tucked you into his side as soon as you’d sat down, his presence warm and steady through the night, his hand casually stroking the curve of your waist. Fred sprawled at your feet, snoring softly, and Ginger took her usual place when Marcus was over, curled up on the cushion next to him, big, heavy head lying in his lap as he scratched her favourite spot, the divot between her eyebrows.

It was a perfect night.

Except for the anxiety fluttering in your stomach.

Marcus had let you help clean up after dinner, at least. But you still felt bad - he didn’t have to cook. You liked cooking, and you really liked cooking for other people. It felt good to take care of others. You’d done it your whole life, it was a well-practiced habit, one you felt comfortable doing.

The anxiety is still buzzing under your skin as you get ready for bed, pulling on a pair of sleep shorts and a loose tank top, then a chime from your phone catches your attention. Skimming through the long list of notifications, the last one catches your eye, and you open the related email.

“Are you kidding me?” You grumble at the phone screen, thumbs already typing out a reply.

Marcus walks into the bedroom carrying the bag he uses for overnight stays at your house, pausing as he takes in the expression on your face. “Everything ok?”

You sigh, quickly flipping over to your calendar on your phone. “This supplier is saying they can’t fulfill our last order, so they’re canceling it. He wants to book a meeting to discuss, I’m going to have to pull up his contract and - shit.”

The block of time the supplier proposed shows out of office in your calendar. Vet Appt.

“What’s up? Anything I can do?” Marcus sidles closer, furrow forming between his brows.

You groan in frustration. “The dogs have a vet appointment for vaccine booster shots at the same time the supplier wants to meet. And apparently that’s the only time he’s available, he’s traveling the rest of the day.”

Marcus shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly. “I can take the dogs. They’re pretty comfortable with me.”

“No, it’s fine.” You start typing out a reply to the supplier asking that he free up his schedule more to resolve this issue, gaze focused on your phone screen.

“I really don’t mind. I’ve got a light day tomorrow, just paperwork to close up a case.”

Your thumbs fly too fast over the keyboard and you have to backspace to correct a typo. “It’s fine, I’ll handle it.”

“Hey. Let me help.”

His voice is quiet and polite but it snaps through the tension you’ve been holding on to all night, and it pours out of you, clipping your words sharply. “I said it’s fine.”

You growl as you make another typo, throwing your phone on the bed in frustration. Marcus watches you, something unreadable in his expression, and for some reason that just irritates you further.

Crossing our arms in front of you, you give him a leveling look. “You knew what my work was like when we started dating. These things happen, and it’s my responsibility to figure out how to make it all work.”

His eyebrows flick up, obviously taken back by your tone. “I know. I’m just saying I can help.”

“I don’t need your help, Marcus!” Inwardly, you cringe at the volume of your voice. It’s too much, too different from his gentle cadence. A little voice whispers that you’re being unfair, lashing out at him, but you can’t stop yourself. “I’ve handled everything in my life just fine up until now, and I can handle everything moving forward.”

The furrow between his brows is back and he shakes his head once. “I know that. There has never been a single moment of doubt in my mind that you can’t handle anything that’s thrown at you.”

His soft tone of admiration is jarring, a clear contrast to your sharp, heated words that throws you off balance, and you can only look at him in silence as your thoughts race to find footing again.

He watches you for a moment, that warm gaze contemplative. “You are the most capable person I’ve ever met. To deal with everything that’s on your plate and still have the capacity to care as much as you do - it’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

He pauses, a faint flush pinking his cheekbones. “I’m… I’m in awe of you. I know that sounds cheesy but I really can’t think of any other word for it. So please believe me when I say I didn’t offer to help because I don’t think you can do it yourself. I know you can handle everything. I guess I… I hope you know that you don’t have to. You can lean on me, if you want. I’m here.”

I’m here.

Two words, softly spoken, land on your skin with the delicacy of a butterfly.

And send a shockwave through your entire system.

I’m here.

You know it’s true. From the moment you met him, he has been. His presence has been a constant, even when he’s not physically with you, whether it’s a warm smile as you tell him about your day or a quick text message saying he can’t wait to see you tonight. He’s here, supporting you, making you feel special, making sure that you’re taking care of yourself.

I’m here.

Never once has he given you reason to doubt the truth of those two words.

Even now, as you childishly take your frustrations out on him.

Even as you hold him at a distance that keeps him safely outside of your carefully constructed walls. The walls you built after too many people had hurt what’s inside, used you until there was nothing left, took what they needed with no regard for what little they were leaving you with.

Marcus never takes from you.

Marcus only gives.

Something cracks inside you, and a flood of emotion catches in your throat, brings tears to your eyes. He sees it, concern twisting his expression, hands lifting to reach for you before they pause, unsure of if you want him or not.

And oh god that hurts, the thought that he doesn’t know, doesn’t know how you feel about him.

How you feel right now.

Three quick steps and you’re on him, hands cupping his face to draw his mouth to yours. His startled sound gets lost in your kiss and his arms come around you, steadying, as the two of you sway with your momentum.

It feels so good and perfect and he feels so good and perfect and you press yourself tighter to him, some wild instinct trying to mould your body into his, needing to be as close to him as possible. Needing to show him that you don’t want to push him away, despite what you might say, that you want him right here with you.

An instinct that almost instantly flares into arousal, heat sparking down your body to settle between your thighs. Your hips move with it, seeking friction, seeking more of him, pressing into his.

He groans, low and rumbling, sliding a hand up your back to curl around your neck and tilt your head further back, giving him better access to delve into your mouth, pulling a keening whine from you and taking it into himself.

His hand shifts and his thumb suddenly rests over your racing pulse and your thoughts are flooded with something, a thick haze that erases all logical thought, allowing that instinct you’d felt a moment ago free reign to lock onto your awareness.

Panic floods your thoughts and you shove it away, recognition flickering with anxiety.

It’s that instinct, that part of you that you’ve pushed away for so long, afraid of what it meant.

The part of you that wants to let someone else be in control for once.

Then his thumb gently brushes over the throb off your pulse, soothing, while his long fingers hold your head firmly, and you don’t want to resist anymore.

It takes barely a thought and the thick haze swarms over your awareness in full.

Everything else fades away and you can feel only him, his palm on the curve of your lower back, strong and steady. His broad chest pressed against yours, warm, solid. His mouth expertly pulling pleasure from your lips and tongue, stoking the heat of arousal in your core.

His long, thick fingers curled around your neck, holding your very heartbeat in his hand.

Him him him Marcus -

You want this. You want to feel this, only him.

It takes a couple tries to get your body to obey, to pull back from him enough to speak. “Marcus.” Your voice is high and wavering in the air between you. “I-I need…”

Too many words, too many things you could say next but can’t, your tongue frozen to the roof of your mouth.

Your gaze lifts to meet his just as some kind of understanding flashes across his expression.

Those warm brown irises grow darker, almost black, bottomless.

He sees you.

And you should be terrified of being so exposed, but all you can think about is how much you want him to know all of you.

He tilts his head a little, watching you closely as his thumb presses ever-so-lightly over your pulse, his breath catching when your eyes widen and your hands clutch at his shoulders, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. “What do you need, beautiful?”

He knows.

You can hear it in his voice, see it swirling in those deep brown eyes.

The last frisson of logical thought left in your mind tries to panic.

But the haze on your thoughts doesn’t care.

“Don’t hold anything back.” You lean into his grip, pressing his thumb even tighter to your pulse, heart skittering against it.

His warm baritone drops even lower, rasping down your spine, holding a note of something you haven’t heard in his voice before.

“Do you know what you’re asking for?”

Something that calls to the thick haze that’s settled over you, something that tells you even if you don’t know the answer to that question, he does.

A moment of stillness, just his gaze watching you, just your heartbeat pounding in your ears and against his grip.

You swallow hard, throat flexing under his hand. “Show me.”

He looks at you for a long moment, searching your features for any sign of hesitation, brown eyes meeting yours once more to read the certainty there.

Then he moves.

It’s lightening-fast.

One moment you’re standing and the next you’re face down on the bed, his hands on your waist, pressing you firmly into the mattress.

The air leaves your lungs in a rush and your fingers claw at the blanket, trying to ground yourself, a dizzying wave of arousal coursing through your body.

“You want me to show you, huh?” Marcus leans over to murmur into your ear, making sure you hear his every word, trailing his fingers down your back as he speaks. “You want me to show you what I’ve been thinking about since I first saw you? Standing in line at the café, listening to you talking on the phone, so focused, so confident, insistent on getting what you wanted. God, it was so fucking sexy. Then you turn around and this perfect ass -” his hand suddenly squeezes the plush flesh, fingertips digging, sending little stabs of pleasure-pain straight to your core. “- is right there in front of me, and all I could think about was how it would look bouncing on my cock.”

Fuck.

The dampness between your thighs grows, a warmth that makes the cloth of your underwear stick to your folds.

Your thoughts move sluggishly, words trying to make sense of instinct. “Please, Marcus.”

“Please what, baby?” His voice is gentle, coaxing, even as his hand on your ass grips tighter, tiny pinpricks of pain making you squirm.

Frustration worms its way through the haze. “I-I don’t know.”

“Beautiful girl, doesn’t know what she needs but knows she needs it.” He shushes you softly, relaxing his grip and smoothing his hand over the stinging bruises. “You said you want me to show you, and I can do that. I can show you what you need. But you have to do something for me, ok?”

He presses a tender kiss to your temple, gently tilting your chin up over your shoulder so he can meet your gaze fully. “I need you to use your words, especially if it ever gets to be too much. I know it might be difficult in the moment, but you’re so strong, sweetheart, I know you can focus enough to tell me to stop if you want me to, at any time and for any reason. Can you do that for me?”

You swallow against a dry throat, push the word out. “Yes.”

He smiles, eyes dark and full lips curling. “Good girl.”

The praise shoots through the haze and that primal instinct inside you preens, making you whimper at the fresh wave of arousal, back arching your hips higher as your fingers curl into the sheets.

His smile grows, eyebrow quirked. “Oh, did she like that? When I called her a good girl?”

You huff against the mattress, thighs squeezing together as your core throbs. Oh god why was that so hot? Him talking to you in the third person? “Yes, I like it.”

Out of the corner of your eye you watch his gaze track the movement and then he shifts down the bed, out of sight again. “Are you wet for me, baby?”

“Mmmph.” Your hips lift off the bed instinctively, body trying to supplement where your voice can’t.

“Use your words.”

Oh fuck -

The soft note of command in his voice makes the haze of your thoughts pulses and words burst free, fall gasping from your lips. “Yes, oh god I’m so fucking wet for you, please Marcus -”

He growls - growls - and suddenly his hands are tearing your shorts and underwear off and the sting of the fabric scraping down your legs with the harshness of the movement only amplifies that primal instinct to feel more.

Then his hands are lifting your hips and pushing your legs so you’re kneeling on the bed, his movements just as sharp and fast as before, and you’re gasping into the sheets at the feeling of the cool air swirling over your wet cunt.

He hums behind you. “Mmm, look at you, all spread out for me.”

Those big, warm hands cup your curves, steady on the sensitive skin where your ass meets your thighs, and he clicks his tongue in mock sympathy. “Poor girl, beautiful pussy is so fucking wet you’re dripping.”

His thumbs glide up to press and pull you completely open, and you keen, senses overwhelmed, vulnerable. He chuckles softly and you feel your inner walls flutter at the knowledge that he’s enjoying this, just watching you like this. “Look at you, clenching on nothing. Need something to fill you up, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.” Fuck, you can’t even talk, you’re so turned on, you’ve never felt so much before.

“Shh, it’s ok, I’ve got you. I’ll fill you up, nice and full, but I’m going to taste you first.”

Before his words can even sink through the haze of your thoughts his tongue is laving over your entrance and your hips twitch with a wave of pleasure, the hot wet muscle gathering the slick that’s formed there and flicking inside for just a second before disappearing, leaving you panting.

You hear him swallow and moan at your taste, and oh god that’s hot.

His tongue glides down to your clit, swirling lightly, over and over at a pace that instantly steals the breath from your lungs.

Pleasure builds, your core clenching, back arching as your body begs for more, and he moans into your cunt, open-mouthed and breathy, and the feeling of warmth ghosting over your slick folds makes you writhe on the bed, shuddering cry muffled against the sheets.

Over and over his tongue works your clit, pulling it into the wet heat of his mouth and flicking tight circles as he suckles, drawing your pleasure higher and higher.

Then his arms are curling around your thighs to hold you in place and his tongue is rolling against your clit and his nose is brushing against your entrance and your orgasm is right there, blindsiding you, yanking you closer and closer to the peak as his tongue presses over your clit and flicks hard and you’re crying out wordlessly as you fall -

His hands grip you hard as your hips flex, the deep groan rumbling from his chest vibrating against your pussy and shoving another wave of pleasure through your body.

You whimper and claw at the sheets until finally it releases you, leaving your limbs quivering, your cheek limply pressed to the mattress.

There’s one brief moment, one breath to fill your lungs, for the world to start to reassemble around you and then he’s shoving his cock into your still-fluttering cunt, straight to the hilt.

The force of his thrust threatens to push you across the bed but his hands grab your waist firmly as he pulls out, only to immediately shove forward again, driving his cock deep. A strangled shout stutters from your throat, lips mouthing at the sheets.

He holds your waist with one hand while the other slides under your tank top, up your back and down again, caressing the curve of your hip. “Fuck, you look so good like this. Does it feel good, beautiful?”

You almost choke on your own words as he thrusts into you again, the zipper of his jeans - fuck, he’s still fully clothed - biting into the sensitive skin of your ass. “Y-yes.”

“Do you like it when I fuck you like this? Bend you over and fuck your pussy as hard as I want?”

The haze of your thoughts throbs as he takes up a rhythm that has the edges of your vision going dark. The entire world narrows down to just the feeling of him inside you and around you, the sting of his thrusts against your ass and thighs, the not-quite bruising grip of his hands on your waist, the blinding pleasure radiating from his cock as it glides over some spot deep inside you again and again -

Then suddenly he stops.

Your entire body shudders hard, cunt clenching around his cock, begging for friction. You whine into the sheets, a garbled questioning sound, your thoughts reeling at the shift.

His hands smooth down your back, soothing, voice firm. “Answer me, baby. Do you like it when I fuck you like this?”

That instinct, the haze that forces your focus to only Marcus, seems to speak for you, pushing words from your mouth, rough with need. “Yes I love it please fuck me like you want to -”

He groans, picking up his brutal rhythm. “Good girl, such a good girl for me.”

And then your words are lost again, all senses blinded by pleasure.

His cock drives through your core and every thrust feels like he’s punching into your fucking soul and then his hands are pressing down on your shoulderblades, forcing your back to arch even more, tipping your hips at a sharp angle and the head of his cock hits that spot inside you and you’re coming again -

And again and again and again -

You don’t stop you can’t stop it’s just wave after wave before one let’s go another begins and -

He picks up the pace with one-two-three quick, deep thrusts and pleasure explodes across your vision, white noise flooding your ears, inner walls pulsing around his cock over and over and your lungs scream for air.

A split second, a flash of time, you hang there then you drop and your awareness falls back into your body.

You’re moving slowly, his hands guiding you onto your side as your limbs continue trembling with aftershocks.

He slides behind you, warm and steady along the length of your frame, one arm curling underneath your shoulders to pull you close and the other tucking you into the curve of his body, his hand splayed just under your collarbone.

Your body obeys the silent command, drawing a deep and shuddering breath, gasping and choking like you had stopped breathing for ages.

The white noise ebbs and you hear his voice, quiet and unfaltering, right next to your ear.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart, nice and slow, just breathe and relax.”

The haze of your thoughts follows his instruction, focusing on expanding and retracting your lungs, bringing your heartbeat down to a reasonable pace. His hands never leave you, one resting over the centre of your chest, while the other strokes your temple, his arm cradling your head.

Finally your limbs relax, fingers uncurling from where they’ve fisted in the blankets so hard they hurt. You focus on feeling him behind you, the softness of his shirt against your bare shoulders, the rough denim of his jeans against the back of your thighs, the faint, steady warmth of his breath on the curve of your neck.

He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Are you with me?”

“Yes?” The word falls from your lips, rough and strained.

“Good girl.” The soft chuckle makes you smile, belatedly hearing the uncertainty in your own voice. His hand suddenly leaves your chest and cups your pussy, making you start, the heat of his palm a shock to your oversensitive flesh. “I think you need to come like that again, hmm?”

Your sluggish thoughts register that he’s asking a question. “Can I?”

“Are you asking if it’s possible? Or asking for permission?” He rises up on an elbow to look down at you, keeping your head nestled on his forearm, his dark gaze a hypnotic mixture of amusement and lust. “Because the answer to either question is ‘yes.’”

Your whimper is caught by his mouth, his lips coaxing yours open to slip his tongue inside. The taste of him floods your senses and your entire body arches toward him, needing to feel him.

He groans at your movement, hand between your thighs gliding up your body to curl around your neck, leaning slightly on his forearm, pressing your chest down just enough to prevent you from moving.

The sensation is overwhelming, a shiver runs down your spine and your breath stutters against his lips.

He pulls back just a bit to look down at you again. “You need this, pretty girl? Feeling me on you, my hand on your throat like this?”

His hand on your neck squeezes once, a barely-there movement, and a white-hot thrill shoots through your body, throbs in your core. “Y-yes I like it.”

“Hmm, I think it’s more than that.” He whispers as he trails kisses down your jaw. “I’ve seen it, sometimes, when I’m fucking you just a little rougher, something in your eyes that begs for more.”

His tongue laps at the skin of your throat right over your fluttering pulse. “A part of you that needs this.”

The hand squeezes again, for longer this time, and for a moment you can’t breathe, can’t move, frozen, and then he loosens his grip and oxygen is rushing through your system with a flurry of endorphins and cortisol as your fight or flight instinct flares into action, tensing every muscle.

But Marcus is right there, long fingers moving in soothing strokes up and down your neck, lips pressing tender kisses over the bridge of your nose and cheekbones.

Endorphins win out, sweeping you away into the warmth and security that he’s layering on your body with his gentle touches. Your hands clutch at his arm, holding tight, your breath coming in quick pants that almost sound like whimpers to your own ears.

His voice is soft, gentling yet direct. “Open your eyes.”

Your eyes are shut tight and it takes effort to open them, the haze on your thoughts delaying any communication with your body. But you want to obey, to be good for him, so you slowly open your eyes, meeting his gaze above you.

Something like awe forms on his features, an open amazement, as his hand strokes up to cup your jaw, fingertip brushing along the corner of your eye. “God, look at you. Absolutely perfect. Just… lovely.”

He dips down to kiss your forehead gently, runs his nose down along yours, his words brushing over your parted lips. “My lovely one.”

Something twists in your chest, turning and turning until it’s knotted around your heart and it hurts but it feels so good at the same time. A broken cry is pushed from your chest, sounding something like his name and a curse and a plea all at the same time.

His lips meet yours briefly, a reassuring kiss followed by a soft susurration, his hand returning to your neck, a comforting weight. “Tell me what you need, lovely one.”

Tell me what you need.

What do you need?

The haze of your thoughts narrows, sharpens for just one moment.

And you know.

You know what you need.

What he’s been trying to show you.

It’s this.

This state of hyper-awareness that allows you only to feel, all logical thought locked away behind a fog of pleasure.

There’s nothing else here, no problems to solve, no one who needs you to care for them, no one here to take from you.

It’s just you and him - Marcus, the shield protecting you from everything, the guiding hand showing you how to achieve perfect bliss, how to find pleasure in only receiving.

Marcus, who now holds your life in his hand with a tenderness that speaks to how aware he is of this responsibility, and that sincere, open gaze that tells you he will never break your trust.

Slowly, but with no hesitation, you curl your fingers around his wrist, pressing his hand tighter to your throat. “You. I need you, like this.”

He leans down to rest his forehead against yours, taking a moment to simply share your breath before kissing you oh-so-softly. “Good girl. My beautiful, smart, strong girl. You have me.”

Your heart throbs and your eyes sting with emotions you’re not ready to name.

He shifts, hand on your neck moving to grasp your thigh and lift up, baring your cunt to the cool air of the room. Your breath hitches in anticipation as he lines up, the head of his cock brushing along your soaked folds, catching on your entrance, then he’s pushing in, a slow, relentless movement that instantly has your legs trembling.

It’s a moment that seems to stretch forever, your entire body strung tight, focus centred on the split of your inner walls around his cock. And the whole time he’s watching you, those burning-dark eyes just inches from yours, gaze flickering over your features, noting every pull and crease and twitch as your expression shifts to one of pure need.

Finally his hips are flush with your ass and he pulls you back a bit more so your weight rests on him, your head tucked into the curve of his arm, his hand on your thigh gliding up until your knee is hooked over his elbow. You squirm helplessly, stretched open and pinned in place, stuffed full of his cock.

The need to move claws at your skin, threatens to bring tears to your eyes, so you squeeze them shut to stop it. Your thoughts are spiraling, frazzled, near panic, and you don’t know why, the sensation of being pulled open and vulnerable overwhelming and you can’t -

Then his hand glides up your chest, fingers brushing the curve of your breast over your tank top, the motion pulling your knee even higher until his fingers curl around your throat and there that’s it yes -

The weight of his hand, warmth of his palm on your racing pulse, smooth calluses on his fingertips along the sides of your neck.

It anchors your thoughts again, pulls you back into place, and the haze settles, firmly shutting out any anxiety.

Your eyes drift open, meeting his gaze. He’s still watching you, assessing, as if he knows what just happened inside your own mind, as if he can see the moment you let the haze take over once more.

His mouth curves into a gentle smile, full lips pursing slightly. “That’s it, keep your eyes open. I want to watch you feel this. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” The haze speaks for you again, firm and confident.

His thumb strokes over your pulse. “Good girl.”

He moans softly at the subsequent pulse of your cunt around his cock, a thrill of pleasure coursing through your core at his praise.

Then he starts to fuck you.

It’s an unending series of long thrusts that drive deep, with a snap of his hips that punches up into you, setting every nerve in your body afire, shoving little whimpers from your lungs and sending starbursts across your vision as the slick glide of his cock spreads your cunt deliciously.

Words fall from your lips among the choked sounds. “Oh god - I - so good - don’t stop please - don’t -“

“I’m not stopping until you come. Wanna feel you flood my cock.”

He pants above you, voice rough with the effort of his movements and his own pleasure, and that instinct inside your thoughts preens, knowing you are the reason.

It spurs on your own pleasure, climax rising quickly, and your hands fly for purchase, one gripping the forearm of the hand on your throat and the other reaching up to find his free hand. He grasps your fingers, twining them with his own, holding your joined hands just over your shoulder.

A jagged moan rips through your chest - the contrast is devastating, this tender embrace and the soft open-mouthed kisses along your cheek as he fucks you roughly, cock spearing hard and deep and hitting that spot every time, pushing your pleasure up and up and the hand on your throat tightens just a bit, pressing just so along the sides of your neck and your vision blurs until all you can see is those dark eyes that see all of you.

His words float through the haze. “You’re gonna come so hard, I can feel it, can see it. You’re gonna come like this, spread open on my cock, pinned down with my hand on your throat, and you’re gonna love it, aren’t you? Come for me, my beautiful, perfect girl.”

Your orgasm crest, sparking all along your skin and tensing in your muscles and you’re suddenly untethered, floating in that haze, needing an anchor to pull you back and keep you safe and you call out -

“Marcus - “

He doesn’t let up, fingers flexing just a little harder on your throat, cock splitting you over and over as his words sink deep into your soul. “Let go, lovely one. I’ve got you.”

His grip on your throat slackens and oxygen floods your lungs and -

You come.

Hard.

Harder than you’ve ever come in your entire life.

Every muscle seizes, ripples, spasms, your heartbeat rushes in your ears, and for a moment you can almost hear his, his pulse, throbbing against your neck through his hand and against your inner walls through his cock. Your awareness flares and envelopes him until all that exists and has ever existed is just him and you, singular and eternal.

Then the release snaps you back into your body.

Marcus shudders, corners of his eyes tight with concentration, thrusts faltering as your pussy throbs around his cock, squelch of it filling the air. “Fuck, so good, so fucking tight -“

You want him, all of him, need all of him.

“Marcus please -“ your fingernails scrape along his skin as you try to tug him impossibly closer, words lost in your own pleasure spiraling upward again.

Something almost possessive crosses his features, gaze growing somehow darker, and he leans over you, hand shifting to cup the back of your neck and tilt your face up to look at him as he drags his cock in and out. “Want me to come inside you, pretty girl? Fuck, you know how much I love that? Filling you up, watching me drip out of you?”

Your fingers curve around his shoulder, looking up at him with as much sincerity as you can muster, voice wavering as he pulls out only to push back in with a snap of his hips. “I love it, too, please, I need it, need you -“

“Oh, fuck, yes you do, don’t you?” A shiver runs along his shoulders and he drops his forehead to yours, dark gaze completely filling your vision. “Come with me and I’ll come inside you, lovely one.”

The haze of your thoughts ripples, throbs, exalts.

You lift a hand to his face, cupping his cheek, holding him right there with you, his breath and his sounds of pleasure mingling with yours as they grow louder and faster, rising with your orgasms until yours breaks, cunt clutching and gushing around him and he cries out, thrusting home once-twice more before burying himself deep. All you can do is hold on tight, fingernails digging into his skin, riding the wave of your pleasure with him, that primal instinct shouting with joy as the warmth of his spend floods your core.

There’s a moment of calm as your heartbeats sync and your breathing starts to regulate, and you look at him, emotions too deep and weighty to name filling your thoughts, amplified by the haze that still envelopes them.

He looks back at you, those same emotions reflected in that dark, beautiful gaze.

For a moment it’s just the two of you, in the entire universe, a moment too big to fit in the space between you and yet somehow it does, squeezing into those cracks in your walls and curling around that part of you that’s been hiding for so long.

Then he’s moving, carefully pulling out of you, shushing your soft whine at the sudden emptiness with a kiss.

For a brief moment you panic, overwhelmed with the need to be close to him and your arms wrap tight around his shoulders, drawing him back.

He huffs gently into the curve of your neck. “I’m just going to grab something to clean you up.”

You make a wordless sound of protest, pulling him back down to you, and he follows, turning to roll onto his back, an arm curving around your waist to tug you into his chest. Gratefully, you tuck your head under his chin, curling your limbs around him as tightly as possible, pillowing against his broad chest.

His heartbeat thrums under your ear, keeping time with the smooth strokes of his hand up and down your back, the small circles of his other hand on your shoulder, fingers brushing your neck occasionally.

It’s safe and warm and… like home.

The haze of your thoughts flutters, starting to dissipate. Not yet, don’t go yet, I don’t want to go back to… to…

The tears that have been hovering behind your eyes since the moment Marcus laid his hand on your neck finally catch hold, pooling behind your closed eyelids. You try to swallow them back down but it’s useless, you’re still too open, too raw.

Two teardrops fall onto his chest just as you fail to hold back the sob that’s burning in your throat and his hands pause their circling path.

“Hey? You okay?” His voice is so soft, murmuring against your hair.

You try to answer but only a whimper comes out, more tears squeezing onto his skin.

His arms pull you in tighter, lips pressing kisses to the top of your head. “Talk to me, baby. What’s wrong?”

The sob finally breaks free, and you turn your face into his chest as if you could hide from it, wrestling your voice under control. “Nothing, I’m fine, it’s just -“ you sniff back another onslaught of tears, the haze of your thoughts making all these emotions seem so much bigger, so much more.

Then his hand is cupping your face, gently shifting you to look at him, and there he is, those beautiful brown eyes warm with concern, with care, for you. “It’s ok, just breathe for a minute, all right? Focus on me. I’m here.”

I’m here.

Those words again.

You meet his gaze, letting yourself fall into it, into the feel of his hands holding you steadily. Your body moves to obey him, lungs filling, shifting into a calm rhythm as you focus on the one thing anchoring your thoughts, guiding you back to yourself.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Marcus.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Marcus.

Slowly, the haze begins to pull away, the last of it evaporating with the sweep of his thumbs brushing away the tears from your cheeks and the caress of his fingertips along your jaw.

A smile suddenly breaks through your tears, and it feels like the sun itself is warming the inside your chest. “You are, aren’t you?”

His brows pull together slightly, a little crease of confusion forming between them. “I’m what?”

Your hand cups his to your face as you turn to plant a gentle kiss to his palm, your eyes steady on his. “You’re here.”

Understanding flashes across his face, and he smiles in return. “Always, lovely one.”

*****

Next: Affirmations

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