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luveline · 11 months

Note

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter."

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor.

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare.

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you."

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal.

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur.

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase.

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak.

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to."

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You're Peter?" you ask.

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–"

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask.

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?"

"Not so, you know. Daunted."

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye.

"Oh, you think so?"

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap.

"Let's get you to the car, baby."

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up.

"Home."

"Together?"

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy."

"Thank you," you say shyly.

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again?

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?"

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly.

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty."

"You're my boyfriend?"

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–"

"You want to get married? To me?"

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–"

"We did?"

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it."

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me."

"I love you," you say quietly.

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession.

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?"

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober.

Which reminds him.

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat.

"What is it?" you ask.

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!"

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scarletcomet · 1 year

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can't do this (life)

#hadn't self-harmed since wednesday #and not on my arm since the week before that #i was so worried about my arms knowing that i was seeing my parents but i dont even care anymore #it was really needed and honestly felt really good #self-harm isn't even my issue right now #i'm way less suicidal than i was a week and a half ago and for weeks before that #being home and with my parents has been really bad for my mental health #i was finally starting to feel a little better but no. we can't have nice things #i've been eating more and able to get out of bed more and having less frequent suicidal thoughts #but i think i kind of miss feeling how i did #i still have suicidal thoughts often but they're not constant or as detailed or overwhelming #and less fantasizing different ways and stuff #i don't know #my parents just don't understand and it's really hard #2 weeks ago i was questioning going to the ER because things got so bad #and before that i could barely move or eat or talk for weeks #they keep telling my all these things they want me to do and whatever but i can barely keep myself alive right now #i wish i had killed myself while i was still at school #it would have been a lot better for everyone #tw: suicide mention

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knightjpg · 3 months

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Brick by Brick

And like a dog who's learned a new trick Simon rings your bell the next day. Wasn't happy with how he left it, and wasn't that faucet leaking? He's got plenty of spare wood in his shed, don't you worry. What's that about the boiler making a weird noise? He'll take a look at it, might have something for the draft in the hallway too. Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench.

tags: construction worker simon/neighbour reader

part 1 | part 2

Summer is the worst time of year for construction work outside. Up early before the birds are awake to try and beat the heat, arriving on site at six or earlier with bleary eyes and creaky joints from the day before. It means coming home at four or five with lots of day left to get through yet without the will or energy to do anything beside shower, eat, watch some telly, and sleep.

The pay is good and it beats sitting in a cramped office all day, but when Simon gets home with aching knees and the thrum of a headache at the back of his skull it's hard to remember why on Earth he chose the career he's in. He's drenched in sweat, large dark patches adorning his pits and back.

It's one of those days where very little can make him stray from his commute straight to home to collapse into his big falling-apart chair, but today it's not really up to him. A large moving truck blocks his driveway. The faded company logo against dirty white overtakes the entire view of his windshield, though Simon can see the back doors are still swung open. No one to attend to it, though.

Simon noticed the FOR SALE! sign had gone, of course. Remembers feeling vaguely pleased, even, that the home next to his wouldn't be empty anymore, because he of all people knows exactly how quickly places can fall apart without anyone tending to it. But right now all he feels is tired, and hot, and really fucking annoyed. Just when he's clicked his belt loose to get out of the car and see if the dolt belonging to the truck is anywhere to be found, voices carry from the open front door.

“...last. I'm afraid it's a little heavy, though, so maybe we should get the boxes out first?”

And out steps the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Hair tied up, tight little top, and shorts that give him ample view of your legs.

Maybe summer's not so bad after all.

You're talking to a bloke wearing a uniform that matches the moving truck and who looks flushed in the face from exertion. As soon as you clock Simon's car, though, you stop mid-sentence in surprise, and then quickly walk to him, brows furrowed apologetically.

“Oh, I'm so sorry—you're trying to get past us, aren't you?” Simon gives you a nod, and you turn back to the mover. “Would you mind moving the truck up a little? I don't want it to be in the way.”

There's precious little parking space ahead, so Simon rolls down his window and calls out to you, “Jus’ backing up a few yards s’fine.” He gestures to his driveway so you know that's where he's headed, and you flash him a smile and a thumbs-up in understanding.

The truck is moved, Simon parks his car, and you pull another heavy-looking box from the cube. You never reach your new doorstep with it; Simon steps in and lifts it from your hands. You blink up at him, lashes fluttering sweetly with surprise. “Oh—are you sure? It's heavy...!”

One corner of Simon's mouth tugs up. Tired as he is it weighs next to nothing, and he can't resist holding it with one arm, holding out the other.

“Can take ‘nother if you need.”

You laugh and assure him this is quite enough, then jog back to the truck while Simon pushes past the half-open door to his new neighbour's home.

It's a mess, of course. Piles of boxes, scattered furniture, rolled-up carpets. Simon puts the box down in the living room, then saunters back outside to lift another from your hands. He does the same with the couch; the mover is struggling and Simon doesn't trust him not to let it fall and crash. And you're such a little thing. Just doesn't feel right, watching you rush around and struggle without stepping in.

With Simon's help it's quick work. The mover thanks Simon before driving off, but he's not really listening. There's much more important things to pay attention to.

You're pretty. Cheeks flushed from exertion, breathing hard, flyaway hairs from your ponytail sticking up in odd directions. Simon has to suppress the urge to smooth them away.

"Thanks so much for the help,” you tell him earnestly. “I'm sorry we were in the way—we thought we'd have a little more time before people started coming home from work.”

“S’alright,” Simon says. It's nearing evening, now, the sky above you glowing in pale pink and oranges hues. The little smatter of trees across from you rustles with a gust of summer wind.

You introduce yourself and insist on giving Simon your number “in case there's ever anything you need.” Simon's more concerned about a young woman living all on her own but takes your number all the same, watching your pretty little fingers tap it in on his phone.

“I mostly work from home, but I'm very quiet and boring,” you tell him with a smile. “You don't have to worry about noise.”

For some reason that isn't the selling point it should be. When Simon stands inside his hallway, house empty and dark and quiet, he wishes he still lived in a shitty apartment with thin walls on the bad side of Manchester. Maybe then he'd hear your footsteps, or better yet, your voice. Instead the only thing waiting for him at home is silence. Heavy and thick, where he's ripped away from sweet sunshine and plunged underwater.

Simon is halfway to falling asleep on the couch when the bell rings. He groans, drags a hand over his face, and glances up at the TV. The football match is still going. The camera pans over a cheering crowd, their cries distant and quiet.

He mutes the thing entirely and heaves himself up to open the door. Swear to God, if this is the fucking salesman again...

“Hi there.”

You give Simon a little finger wave, your other hand cradling a round oven dish. When you shift on your feet the protective foil on top rustles noisily.

You look a little more put together than you did yesterday—rested, showered, fed. Just as pretty.

Although, speaking of fed...

“Alright?” Simon asks, eyes on the oven pan. He's only catching a faint whiff of something, but whatever it is smells really fucking good. His stomach reminds him that the only thing in his fridge are a couple cans of beer.

You nod and lift the dish with a shy little grin. “Yeah. Um. I wanted to say thanks again, for yesterday. And I wanted to test out my oven, so...”

You hold the dish out for him to take. Simon's fingers brush yours, large meaty paws easily twice the size of your own. When he peels back the foil you add, “Shepherd's pie. I thought about cookies, but I wasn't sure if you'd like those.”

The scent hits him, then, rich and hearty and buttery smooth. The dish is still a little warm.

Fuck. When was the last time he ate something homemade?

“No, I'll eat anything,” he says, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. He hasn't showered yet. Must look a nightmare. Does he stink? “Thanks.”

Your whole face lights up, and Simon's neck feels hot. He averts his eyes to avoid your gaze and pretends to inspect the pie instead. Jesus, what is he, twelve? “I'm glad. I'll leave you to it, then.”

D’you want to come in for a drink?

It's on the tip of his tongue, but he can't get the words out quite right and gives you a brusque nod, watching you walk back to your own home before closing his door all the way.

He eats at his kitchen table and finishes the whole thing in one go. Chases bits of flakey crust with his finger, licks up every leftover crumb. The meat is tender and juicy and for a while after the only things he smells is golden-brown potatoes seasoned with rosemary.

He mourns it when it's gone, of course. Has half a mind to go over right now and ask if your cooking is for hire—Simon can't remember the last time he felt satisfied. When he ate not just for the sake of fuel or convenience but because someone wanted him to have something nice, something special. Is it special? Is he special? Are you going around the neighbourhood handing out cookies and pies to just anyone?

Simon's sigh is loud in the silence and sticks to the kitchen walls.

The pre-made frozen meals are fine, of course. Empty plastic containers fill up the rubbish bin. They're easy and cheap and most days Simon's glad just to have something warm in his stomach.

And yet.

The next day Simon stands at your door at six in the evening sharp, holding the clean dish in his hands. You invite him in for a cup of tea, because unlike him you have good manners, and you sheepishly apologise for the stacks of boxes everywhere.

“S’alright,” Simon says, carefully manoeuvring around a large pile of books. “I don't mind.”

And he doesn't, though he does feel like a bull in a china shop. Large and much too coarse for the little tea cup you hand him while the kettle whistles on the stove.

“I'm afraid I don't have much to go with it,” you say with a flutter of your hands. “Do you like ginger snaps? I think I've got a pack somewhere.”

You don't wait for his answer and pry open one of the cupboards. First come the ginger snaps, then the box of Earl Grey, which you hold up to him with a triumphant smile. “Unpacked the important stuff first.”

Simon frowns and jerks his chin to the cupboard. “S’it stuck?”

“Oh—yeah. They all are.” You give the wood a little knock. “It'll take me some time to get to fixing everything. The house went for a good price, but only ‘cause it needs some love.” You give him a rueful smile and get up, wiping your hands on your thighs. “I'm not all that handy, so I'll have to take it bit by bit.”

Simon rises before you finish your sentence. "Let me see.”

“Oh, no, it's okay. It's not a big deal, really—”

Simon crouches down, slowly, to spare his knees, and tests the hinges. The wood is rotten in certain places, the hinges old and rusted. Rather than fixing it up it should be replaced entirely. You really better had gotten this place for good money, because this will take more than a bit of elbow grease to repair. He prods at the hinges, tuts, and looks up at you.

“Ready to fall apart, this one. You said they're all like this?”

You nod, worry creasing your brow. “I—yes. Well, the kitchen is. The bathroom seems alright. Is it worse than I thought?”

“Might be. You have anyone look at this?”

You shake your head. “I'm starting to feel silly about it now, but I was going to look up how to do it myself.”

Simon straightens. “I'll go get my kit.”

It's not as bad as he feared. Two cabinets need tearing down completely, but the others are worth saving. Simon warns you the repair job will fuck the wood, but you tell him it's no problem; you'll paint over it anyway.

You feed him tea and ginger snaps while he works, asking him several times if he wouldn't like a break, hasn't he done a lot already? You feel terrible about having him work on his day off. Didn't he say he worked construction? He must be so tired, poor man. You insist he stay for dinner. “You've been so helpful—it's the least I could do.”

Simon takes a breather to watch you cook. Chicken, pasta, summer salad. The sun sinks lower and hits you straight on from the kitchen window, painting the edges of you a dazed red-gold. An angel's halo.

“You big on reading, then?”

You turn down the heat and put a lid over the pan to join him at the table. Simon's eyeing the many books strewn about on top of boxes that say “pans” and “kitchen supplies”. Le Morte D’Arthur. Histories of the Kings of Britain. Beowulf. There's even one that prompts a vague, long-forgotten memory from his school days— The Canterbury Tales.

“I am. Always have been.” You nod to the books. “I teach at university—medieval literature. But I'm working on my own research on the side.”

Simon lets out a low whistle. His pretty bird is a clever one. Smarter than him, that's for sure. He might be big and strong but he's got bricks for brains.

That's what his dad always used to say, anyway—that he's stupid. Those always were his kinder moments.

“That explains all the books y’got.”

“There sure are a lot of them, aren't there? I swear moving really makes you realise just how much stuff you own...” You shake your head. “I'll have to get a bigger bookcase.”

“Think it's impressive.”

Your eyes crinkle with a smile. “Not as impressive as knowing how to fix my cabinets! I don't know how I would've managed by myself.” You hop up from your seat to check the food, then ask over your shoulder, “Is that something you do a lot for work, too? Carpentry and the like?”

Simon shakes his head. “We do the heavy lifting. Clearing a place out, laying the foundation. Johnny—my coworker, he's mostly on machinery. Kyle does transport and plumbing. I do the heavier handiwork.”

You hum and start plating the food while asking him more questions. Is the pay good? Is his boss fair? Are his coworkers nice?

Price's fairly strict is what he is, Simon answers, and you laugh again. He likes that. Likes that he gets you to do that.

He wolfs down a plate of his pasta and devours the chicken. It's fragrant, roasted with lemon and thyme, bursts between his teeth. He tells you more about Johnny, that he's a cocky bastard who likes playing with electricity way too much, but that he's also a loyal friend. That he's a hard worker—that all of them are.

When his plate is empty and he's eyeing what's left in the pans you push them closer without saying anything, and prompt him to tell you about that time a plumbing line exploded and Kyle got soaked from tip to toe in disgusting gunk. He smelt like sewage water for weeks.

Simon doesn't even realise how much he's talked until his throat starts feeling rougher than usual. You make it easy somehow. If he'd thought you would look down on him because of your own job he needn't have worried. You're not at all like what he imagines when he thinks of professors, none of the stuffy superiority complex he's used to weathering when people find out all he does all day is chafe his fingers on hard cement.

Maybe you're just good at faking it, but he doubts it. The sparkle in your eyes when you listen to him so intently has to be real.

You send him home with a warm thanks and dessert, and Simon feels something in his chest lurch when you peer up at him through your lashes in the doorway, smiling and sweet. Can't remember the last time he went out for dates. Can't remember having the time or energy for it.

Pay him? What are you talking about, he does stuff like this for fun. Don't sweat it, love. Just hand him that wrench.

There are days when it's hard, of course. Simon is only human, and spending days and days on sizzling hard concrete would wring anyone dry. The project is coming along nicely, but at the height of summer there's plenty of times when even the promise of your smile isn't enough to keep him from falling asleep on his couch—often on an empty stomach.

But during the weekends he rings your bell dutifully. Six o’clock becomes something sacred in his mind, sweet relief after praying on his knees for hours smoothing out cement. It gets to the point where he turns down Friday drinks with the guys more than once because he's got something to go home for now, his pretty little bird that's never once mentioned a boyfriend of any kind.

“You really should let me pay you.”

Simon gives you a look before pushing his large shoulders further into the cabinet under the bathroom sink. “Should be the one payin’ you. I know I'm doubling your grocery bill.”

He eats more at your place than his own these days. It gives him incentive to rush through a shower, dress like something resembling a human, then wait at your doorstep to be let in. Wagging tail and everything.

Your cheeks darken and you duck your head. “No, um... It makes me happy. To see you eat my cooking, I mean,” you confess a little shyly. “I feel like I'm the one getting everything out of this. I hope I'm not keeping you from—from spending time at home, or with your family.”

“S’just me, love.” Simon pauses, pretends to inspect the pipes. “Less you don't want me coming ‘round anymore.”

“No, no,” you say hastily. “No, I like—I like the company. Really.” Your voice softens. “And I'm not just saying that because I appreciate the help.”

Simon exhales, shifts a little to accommodate the strain in his boxers, and holds his hand out for the screwdriver.

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #simon ghost riley x reader #x reader #if you saw me post this to the wrong blog. no you didnt.

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strawbuddy-luv · 6 days

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Trans Tim off handedly mentioning random things that just confuse people more and more because he never told them he was trans (only Bruce and Alfred know)

Tim: "For the mission I'm thinking I'll go undercover, but it'll take some work to hide the bruises I got earlier. They're everywhere"

Dick: "Oh I think Steph is free right now!"

Tim: "...Ok?"

Dick: "Don't worry I'm sure she'll help you out with this! "

Tim: "That's awesome but I don't think I'll need help. I know how to use makeup."

Dick: "Really-? Ohhh, yeah your public image is like, way more public than ours. That must be tiring, having to hide the bruises all the time."

Tim: "Well yeah but I knew how to use makeup before that. For like, galas as a kid and stuff"

Dick: "...yeah..."

-----

Steph: -Complaining about a man- "And then he said "Oh you should smile more" like "you look like you don't want to be here" like what- what the fuck-??? Maybe I fucking don't dude."

Tim: "Oh yeah I hate when they do that. Like you've spent the entire time bitching about the consistency of snails, I can close my mouth for a few seconds."

Steph: "..."

Tim: "...What-?"

Steph: "Well- I mean yeah but- you know I have to deal with it like...way more, and it's just a bit weird that like, you as a guy are, I dunno, trying to relate? I mean you don't have to deal with it litreally everyday"

Tim: "Well yeah not anymore, but, you know...I still did."

Steph: :...What-"

-----

Tim: -Resting against one of the rooftop ledges-

Jason: "Woah, I can't believe it, Red Robin, slacking. What would Bruce do if he saw this!"

Tim: "Fuck off, it's just period cramps." -Jumps off the edge of the building-

Jason: "Yeah whatever Timblina...

Your fucking what-"

-----

Bruce: "And for this mission, we'll be needing someone for the Caroline disguise, but we already know who that is so-"

Dick: "Wait does Steph actually know how to fight in heels-??"

Bruce: "...N-"

Steph: "Yeah Bruce, I mean, you could at least actually ask me before volunteering me to go fight crime in that dress."

Bruce: "You-"

Jason: "I mean no offense, but literally who else would do it? Cass isn't here right now and I don't think any of us are willing to get a boob job for the mission"

Bruce: "No one's getting a boob job-"

Steph: "Yeah! This is bat tech, Bruce probably has ultra realistic titties in everyone's color and size! Jason you wouldn't even need an attachment."

Jason: "I don't think Caroline Hills has fifty gun shot wounds and muscles the size of most those guys heads."

Steph: "Yeah bu-"

Bruce: "None of that will be necessary because none of you" -Pointing at the right side of the table- "Will be going. No one at this table will be needing any prosthetics...Or boob jobs."

Steph: "...Ok but who the fuck is going then-"

Bruce: "Tim."

The entire table: "..."

Steph: "Tim are you really willing to put on boobs for this-"

Dick: "I don't think that's the best idea-"

Jason: "You just said no prosthetics- Oh this'll be fucking rich"

Tim: "...

I...wouldn't need a boob job?? Or prosthetics?"

Jason: "Timbo, that dress is a pretty low cut, and, no offense, your training hasn't given you that many enhancements."

Tim: "...Thank you for the binding compliment?"

Dick: "The what-"

Tim: "Guys I- I already have boobs-"

The Table: "..."

Steph: "WHAT-"

Dick: "You do-?!"

Jason: "Bruce if you made Tim get boobs for some weird mission-"

Tim: "What- No! No one made me get boobs??? Besides, I don't know, biology I guess??? Genetics maybe???"

Dick: "...I'm extremely confused"

Steph: "WHO GAVE YOU BOOBS-???"

Tim: "I'm not really sure seeing as I was born with them"

Dick: "...

OHHHHHH-"

Steph: "What- is this like a birth defect or something???"

Dick: "Tim- Tim I think you're just gonna have to-"

Tim: "I'm trans."

Jason: "...That's-

Yeah

Ok yeah no that- that explains...a lot."

Steph: "..." -Head in hands- "I am such a fucking idiot"

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gender-euphowrya · 2 years

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huge dev update my grandma is gonna see a psychologist

#pogchamp #finally i don't have to play that role i'm not trained or mentally stable enough to handle anymore #she should have gotten therapy DECADES AGO sis lost both her children through tragic circumstances and had a miserable childhood #she didn't because her generation just worked like that ig and i'm not blaming her for not going but i am GLAD she will now #hopefully it works out she So needs it she's got so much on her mind and super bad anxiety #honestly i'm proud of her for even considering it because she used to dismiss the thought with 'eh at my age it's too late'#plus if she sees my psych i can make the trip with her no problem #And i already know him really well so if she's got any questions about what he's like i can answer those ez #honestly he's the first and only psychologist i've been to but he's Brilliant #super respectful super invested in his patients' well being will never pry too far will never make you feel wrong or blamed #absolutely Nailed handling my coming out has a lot of experience with all kinds of people nice and calming and friendly as hell #i hope it's not an issue that i'm seeing him too like idk if they have some sort of thing where #seeing members of a same family could interfere or something #i don't think so that doesn't seem quite right but who knows ???#anyway So glad for her i really hope she can feel better with this #even if it's just talking to someone about all her thoughts and her fears it's already such a big step to start feeling better #because like. she talks to me but she doesn't say Everything y'know. especially stuff about my transition #she's scared she'd hurt or upset me so she keeps a lot to herself and she just ruminates on it all day long #her brain doesn't have a single second of rest and she worries about Everything #example. she was anxious because her apartment has a bathtub but no shower so she's only been able to wash from the sink #they're going to install a shower soon and she was happy because Finally she's gonna be able to wash herself fine #but now she's anxious about the construction and how she's gonna arrange her furniture and her water consumption #a problem solved = a new problem with her #i honestly suspect she might be autistic because she's also like. very. routine-ish #like This Item Has To Be Here. i have to go to This Place on That Day at That Time #she doesn't like sitting still she doesn't really pick up on jokes and sarcasm there's just...#a LOT of unresolved things with her. she really needs help and i can't wait for her to get it

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an-spideog · 9 months

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Don't Use Duolingo if You Really Want to Learn Irish

That title is a bit dramatic, but I really don't think that duolingo is a useful tool for Irish, especially in its current state, so I want to talk a bit about why, and I'll also talk about some alternatives.

Pronunciation

The first and most egregious issue is that at some point recently-ish, duo decided to start using Text-To-Speech for their Irish course, rather than recordings of a native speaker. The problem here is that their TTS is not trained on native speakers of Irish and pronounces words incorrectly. It doesn't make consistent distinctions between broad and slender consonants for example.

Irish has no standard pronunciation, so I understand how it can feel weird to choose just one dialect for the purposes of pronunciation (the old recordings were from a speaker of Galway Irish), but having just one dialect is much better than TTS which sounds like a learner, imagine if they had TTS for the French course which sounded like an anglophone schoolkid trying to pronounce french, and claimed they were teaching you how to speak french!

Grammar

Duo tends to be correct on grammar at least, which is a start. But often people using it get very confused about the grammar because duo doesn't explain any of it. I think there's a place for immersion in language learning, and I don't think everything has to be explained like that, but within duo's system of sentence testing and exercises like that, not having any explanation for why it's "mo chóta" and not "mo cóta" can be really confusing. Duo used to have more grammar information, it's a shame that they removed it, I wonder why they did it.

Money and Motivation

Duolingo is a business, and their motivation is not to help you learn a language 'fully', but to keep you using their app and hopefully have a higher chance of sharing it with others, competing with others, buying or causing others to buy memberships or lingots or any other in-app purchases.

I don't want to make it out like duo is some big conspiracy and they're tricking people, I don't think that's the case, but it's good to remember that their primary motivation is to keep people using the app, rather than help people move to a level in a language where they don't need the app anymore.

Keep this in mind whenever you see people trying to sell you stuff for language learning.

Why do people use Duolingo

I do get it, and I don't want to make anyone feel bad for using duo, there's a ton of reasons people tend towards it at first 1. It's really well known, so especially if you're learning a language and haven't heard of other resources for it, you'll check duolingo 2. It's very motivating for a lot of people, checking in every day and forming that habit is a really good way of sticking with a language 3. It's fun, people enjoy it

If you use it for reason 3. and you still like it, then don't worry about this post, I'm not trying to yuck anyone's yums, keep having fun!

If you use it for reasons 1. or 2. you can still keep using it if you like, but I want to suggest some other things which you might find helpful in trying to get to a higher level in Irish.

Other Resources

To address the pronunciation issue, I'd heavily recommend you disregard the pronunciation in duolingo, if you're looking for more reliable sources of pronunciation, I'd look towards recordings of native speakers, you can find that on:

Teanglann and Foclóir (they use the same recordings)

Fuaimeanna

and a really useful and underused one: https://davissandefur.github.io/minimal-pairs/ where you can hear the difference between similar sounds that English speakers often mix up in Irish.

A lot of people like duolingo because it's nice to have a clear path forward, a progression that you can get into without too much decision-making. For this I recommend getting a good textbook or course and working through it, the ones I'll recommend also have native speaker audio on them.

Learning Irish by Mícheál Ó Siadhail, this book teaches Galway Irish, not just in pronunciation but in grammar too. It's quite dense but it's well thought out and well explained.

Teach Yourself Irish (1961) this book is available for free online, and is a really good option if you're interested in Cork Irish (Munster), and have some experience with grammatical terminology. I used this book myself and really liked it, but it's very intense and not for everyone. (If you do end up using it, feel free to skip the appendices at the start, they're more of a reference and sometimes put people off from actually getting to the first chapter. Also if you have any questions about it or need any help just let me know.)

If you want a video course, there's a great course called "Now You're Talking" which is available for free online, along with audio files and worksheets here. It features Donegal Irish and leads into the more intermediate level course called Céim ar Aghaidh also available online.

There's other textbooks that I have less experience with (Buntús na Gaeilge, Gaeilge/Gramadach Gan Stró, etc.) but if they work for you, stick with them, there's nothing worse than not making progress because you keep switching resources trying to find the "perfect one"

Whether or not you continue to use Duolingo, I would really really encourage you to try engaging with media in Irish. People often shy away from this when they're learning because they don't feel like they're "ready" yet. But you basically never feel like you're ready, you just have to try and find something near your level and try to get comfortable with not understanding everything. This is where you learn a huge portion of the language, you hear how things are pronounced you see what words mean in what contexts, getting input in your target language is so important!

I know content can be kind of hard to find, so I'll make a few recommendations here: There's a wealth of content available for free online (more if you're in ireland but some internationally) on TG4 If you're still starting out, I'd recommend trying to watch some kids shows since they'll have simpler language and will be easier to follow. I wouldn't recommend using English subtitles when you watch them. Some good options include:

Dónall Dána: an Irish dub of Horrid Henry, silly and childish but the actors have good Irish and importantly the show has Irish language subtitles, they don't always match but if you're still beginning and can't necessarily get everything by ear, they're really useful. (Mostly Galway Irish)

Curious George: another dub, again with Irish language subtitles (I can't remember what dialects were in it off the top of my head but I'd assume mostly galway again)

Seó Luna: No subtitles, but a good option if you're aiming for Munster Irish, the lead character has Kerry Irish

Miraculous: No subtitles but a better show than most of the other kids' ones and more bearable to watch as an adult (Mostly Galway Irish)

Ros na Rún: Moving away from kids shows, a long running soap opera, this has Irish subtitles and a really good mix of dialects within the show. If you're finding the kids shows boring or too easy I'd really recommend it, but it can be complex because of the amount of characters, dialects, and plotlines. I'd recommend starting at the beginning of a newer season and just trying to catch on to what's happening as you go.

There are a lot of books, if you live in Ireland you can get nearly any Irish book for free from a library, so please check out your local library or request some of these from other libraries in the system:

There's a series of fairytales (Rápúnzell, Luaithríona etc.) by Máiréad Ní Ghráda which are illustrated and for children, which are a really good option for when you're just starting out reading

There's kids books about Fionn and the Fianna by Tadhg Mac Dhonnagáin

There's a cute little kids' book in Kerry Irish about a cat named Mábúis

Leabhar Breac has a lot of graphic novels, some of them based on Irish mythology, some on other stuff. The fact that they're illustrated can make it a lot easier to follow even if you don't understand all the words at first.

Gliadar has just released their Scott Pilgrim translation

If you're looking for something a bit more advanced you can look at some of the books for adult learners by Comhar, they contain simplified language and glossaries but have full original adult stories.

And if you're wanting full, natural, native-level Irish there's a load of books by those same groups, and others like An Gúm, Cló Iar-Chonnacht, Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne, Éabhlóid, Coiscéim, and more.

And don't shy away from older books written in Seanchló either, they can be more challenging but it's a whole extra world of books

If you're trying to improve your listening comprehension, I definitely recommend listening to shows on Raidió na Gaeltachta, hearing native Irish speakers talk at full speed is really good practice. But I get that it can be overwhelming at first. Here are some things you can do as you build up to that:

Watching those same TV shows I mentioned without subtitles is a good way to build up listening skills.

Vifax is a website where you can practice listening to short news segments and answer questions on them, then getting to look at the transcript with notes afterwards.

Snas is kind of the evolution of vifax, now using clips from both the news and Ros na Rún.

I really hope that this post can help people move away from duolingo if they're looking to take their Irish learning to the next level, if you've got any questions, just let me know!

#gaeilge #irish language #irish #irish langblr #gaelainn #learning irish #as gaeilge #duolingo #resources

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a-hazbin-reader · 7 months

Note

Hey did you get my ask/request of Alastor and Wife!reader having an argument and Alastor says something horrible to her leaving him to have to make up for it?

I did, I just have a lot of stuff in my inbox

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being in the DOGHOUSE

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor doesn't mind fighting, likes to bicker with and irritate those around him as some strange show of dominance

But his wife is an exception, he hates fighting with his wife and goes to great lengths to avoid it

Despite his efforts, you two do still fight from time to time and he hates it, he tries so hard to reign in that cruel part of him

He doesn't really even remember what started the fight, probably something dangerous he did that upset you

Something like the Adam stunt

And he probably tried to brush it off, his pride not letting him admit that your fears were warranted

You were understandably getting worked up over his dismissal, and he was getting irritated that you wouldn't just drop it

Everyone else in the hotel had scattered and hidden the moment you two started to uncharacteristically raise your voices at each other

Angel had to grab Niffy to stop her from watching the entire argument play out

He just doesn't want to scare you with the idea of losing him, he wants to be your strong, invincible husband

It makes him uncomfortable that you see beyond the powerful overlord demon and instead zero in on the man beneath it all

"Darling, I would understand your fears if I hadn't come back to you in one piece, but I'm here. With you. Perfectly fine."

You could rip your hair out due to frustration, almost in tears, how could he not understand how you felt?

"Alastor! That's not the point! You can't be so reckless! It's not just you that you have to worry about anymore! You have a wife! You have to live and be safe for me!"

He fears a pang of anger over being told what to do, rage and irritation over the unintentional reminder of his failure to win

Which makes his mind wander to his deal, his fucking leash

The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes what he's saying

"If I knew that everything I do had to be approved by you then, I would've rethought this whole marriage ordeal."

Alastor regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, his ears folding back at the sight of your hurt expression

Your eyes have tears in them but you're doing your best to hold them in, turning on your heel to leave the room

"Wait-Darling, I didn't-"

"Just...give me some space, Alastor."

He regrets it so much, watching you walk away from him when he should be begging for forgiveness

He hates seeing you so upset but he hates being the reason for it even more

Alastor tries to give you the space you asked for, but it's difficult when all he wants to do is make up with you already

But he also doesn't want to actually talk about what happened

So he breaks fairly easily when he sees you again, coming up behind you and hugging you

Only to be shrugged off when he goes for a small kiss, left with a sinking feeling in his stomach

"I said to give me space, I'm not ready to talk to you yet."

Normally, Alastor loves it when you're cruel and cold, finds it a little hot, but when it's aimed at him? He hates it so fucking much

Literally looks like a kicked puppy when you walk away from him again, Charlie and Vaggie looking at anything but him

"You know what, Charlie? I do see that crack in the wall!"

He tries again later, sitting next to you and trying to wrap an arm around your shoulders while the radio bursts to life with a love song

Only to be rewarded with an ill hidden sniffle and you immediately getting up to walk away from him

"If you're not going to apologize and have a genuine conversation with me then don't even bother."

It's driving Alastor crazy not being able to be with you, to not be able to properly make up with you

But he still doesn't want to admit he messed up or have that uncomfortable conversation with you

So he tries lavish gifts and other romantic gestures that all get rejected or given to Niffty to do whatever she wants with them

"Yay!! I'm going to poison these and give them to the mother bugs!!"

Okay...maybe Angel should have these...

Alastor is starting to understand that he can't just gloss over this one

He understands it a little more later that night when you go to bed without him, and he's left too nervous to follow after you

Several hours into the night, the guilt eats at him and he breaks, sneaking into the bedroom

You're awake, your eyes red rimmed from crying but you manage to give him a glare before turning your back to him

"Darling, I believe I owe you an apology..."

The way your tense body relaxes is all he needs, crawling into bed with you and pulling you to his chest

It's a difficult pill for him to swallow, so it's easier for him to have these conversations with you like this

He doesn't want you to see his weakness even when he's laying it out for you

Luckily, Alastor is good with his words and you're willing to listen now that an apology is on the table

It's a long conversation that leaves you both sleepless and emotional in each other's arms

But things are settled and Alastor is forgiven, happy to be back in your good graces

He tried to be strong and hold himself back, he really did... but being without the warmth of your love was torture for him

It was a rough couple of hours for him

HA WHIPPED

"Angel, shut the fuck up before you get yourself killed!"

He's extra clingy and romantic with you for DAYS afterwards, making everyone else at the hotel practically nauseous

Except for Charlie, of course, she loves it

He's just so relieved that you've forgiven him, still disgusted with himself for even saying what he said

Asks you for yet another kiss that morning before Husk finally walks away, annoyed by Alastor's neediness

You don't mind your husband's clingy antics, enjoying the extra attention he's giving you

You should get mad at him more often

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 7 months

Text

safe

words: 1.1k

warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe

“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.

“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.

“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”

“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”

“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”

“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.

“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”

“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”

“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”

“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.

“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”

you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.

“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.

“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.

he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.

“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”

you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.

“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.

“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.

“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”

“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”

“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.

“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”

“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”

“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.

“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.

“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”

“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.

“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.

“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”

“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.

“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.

“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”

you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.

“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”

you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months

Note

hiii omg istg your modern jace works have been living in my mind RENT FREE THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD but like a modern college jace bringing reader to meet rhaenyra and his brothers for the first time would be soooo cute, like i feel like joffery would LOVE that his big bro had a gf and would like pull her to colour with him and do stuff like that and rhaenyra would love her like a daughter, luke would LOVE embarrassing himm <3

Season 2 is premiering right now, but I have to wait until 10pm to watch since I don't have access to HBO Max... Please come to my ask and send me requests/let's talk about the new episode!! I will be opening them after I watch and giving my thoughts on the episode every weeks 🐉⚔️🖤

Thank you so much for the love for modern!Jace. I really enjoy writing about him. This one was challenging to write as there was a lot of people to write about. I hope you like it!!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys came home for Thanksgiving, he didn’t tell his family about you. You had only been dating for a couple of weeks and were still getting to know each other. It was too soon to announce that he had someone in his life. But a mother's instinct never fails to recognize the smile on her son’s face whenever he looks at his phone or the hushed phone call she had heard when she walked by Jace’s bedroom.

Although she wanted to know everything about Jace’s new girlfriend, Rhaenyra respected her son’s privacy and let him tell her in his own time. That was until Luke spilled the beans after coming across a picture on social media where Jace was holding and kissing a girl’s cheek.

In typical brothers behavior, Jace sent a lot of middle finger emojis to Luke for spilling to their mother.

After a long phone call with her, a date was set. Joffrey’s birthday was coming up, so Rhaenyra saw it as a good opportunity to meet you. And Joffrey would love for his big brother to be there on his seventh birthday since he missed it last year.

‘’Mom, we’re home!’’ Jace called as he opened the door of his childhood house, carrying small bags for your weekend stay.

The sound of footsteps on the second floor filled the small entryway as Jace dropped the bags with a thud, making you jump. You took a deep breath, your nerves getting the best of you.

‘’It’s going to be fine. They’re gonna love you,’’ Jace reassured you, kissing your temple sweetly before an overexcited Joffrey came down the stairs. ‘’Here’s the birthday boy!’’

Joffrey hugged Jace, happy that he was home. It must not be easy for him to not see Jace everyday anymore.

More footsteps came from the back of the house as Rhaenyra, with a blond toddler in her arms, came to greet you. Her warm smile was welcoming. You couldn't help but notice how Jace's features mirrored hers. Except for the hair and eyes. He must have gotten them from his father.

‘’Hi. It’s lovely to meet you,’’ she said, her voice kind and genuine. ‘’I would give you a hug, but I’m worried Viserys is going to try to pull on your hair… He picked up this bad habit last week and we’re working on it.’’

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. ‘’No worries, it’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Targaryen,’’ you replied, glancing at the curious toddler who was eyeing you with fascination.

‘’Please, call me Rhaenyra.’’

Joffrey tugged at your and Jace’s sleeves, his eyes wide with excitement. ‘’Come, I want to show you my birthday cake. There’s a big dragon on it.’’

Rhaenyra was quick to correct the young boy, laughing dryly. ‘’There is no birthday cake in this house.’’

You chuckled politely, figuring out that Joffrey must have seen the cake by accident and Rhaenyra was trying to keep it a surprise.

‘’Jace told me you have a massive dragon collection,’’ you said, driving the young boy’s attention to something else than the birthday cake. ‘’Is that true?’’

Joffrey grinned and began to tell you all about his dragons. He fetched some from the playing room and brought them over to show you on the couch, giving you all sorts of information about dragons. There was one of every color and size. Some had horns and a threatening stare, while others looked simply beautiful.

While you were occupied with Joffrey, Jace went upstairs to drop your bags in his bedroom. When it came back, he watched the two of you from the corner, finding it sweet how quick Joffrey took a liking to you. He was usually shy around new people.

‘’Where’s Luke and Aegon?’’

Rhaenyra set Viserys down on the floor so he could play with his blocks, and shook her head. ‘’I don’t know. Probably upstairs. Aegon is with Daemon in the backyard. Since we cleaned the old playset, he always wants to go outside.’’

Leaning over the banister, Jace called out to Luke. ‘’Luke! Come here, you little shi—’’

‘’Language,’’ Rhaenyra scolded, her eyes pointing at Joffrey and Viserys.

He apologized and you bit back a smile. He truly was a mama’s boy.

You didn’t meet Aegon and Daemon — Jace’s step father — until dinner. The latter looked intimidating, but he kindly smiled at you as you shook his hand. As he was helping his wife getting the food on the table, she gave him a subtle nod of approval, silently telling him that she liked you.

‘’I told you my mom would like you,’’ Jace said, pulling you with him in the hallway while the younger ones were being bathed and put to bed. His arms were around you, chasing your worries away.

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension leave your body as you smiled up at him. ‘’Now I know where you got your kindness and charm from.’’

‘’You think I’m charming?’’

Rolling your eyes, you tried to get away, but Jace didn’t let you.

‘’Joffrey is very fond of you too,’’ he continued, his eyes sparkling with amazement. ‘’I’ve never seen him so at ease with someone he doesn’t know.’’

‘’He gave me a full lesson about dragons. He is so sweet.’’

Hearing this made Jace happy. For him, family was very important, so it meant a lot to him that you were getting along with his family.

His gaze softened, his eyes locking onto yours before leaning down to kiss you. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his zip-up hoodie, kissing him back until a loud, exaggerated gagging sound broke through the moment.

You both turned to see Luke standing at the end of the hallway, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

‘’Do you want to see Jace as a baby?’’ Luke asked with gleeful enthusiasm. ‘’He had chubby cheeks…like Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks.’’

Jace groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled, imagining baby Jace with chubby cheeks. ‘’I’d love to see those photos,’’ you teased, nudging Jace playfully.

But Luke wasn't done. ‘’Do you know why there is no school picture of him in fifth grade?’’ he continued, leaning against the wall, clearly relishing the moment. ‘’There was this guy at school who was bullying me and Jace decided to put his big brother pants on and take him on a fight. This guy was two inches taller than him and much bigger, so Jace lost and fell, which knocked his front tooth out the night before picture day at school.’’

You laughed, picturing a brave little Jace standing up for his brother. ‘’You’ve always been protective, I see,’’ you said, turning to Jace. A small smile tugged at his lips. ‘’Okay. Luke, that’s enough,’’ Jace decided, taking you away from him before more embarrassing stories could come out of his brother’s mouth.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon imagine #house of the dragon #jacaerys hotd

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hughiecampbelle · 2 months

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The Boys Preference: Taking Care Of You When You're Drunk

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had! Still not feeling great, but I will definitely get back to requests tomorrow :) This is just a lil thank you for your patience my loves! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜

Butcher notices you've been drinking a lot more than usual. Ever since you found out he was dying, you've been trying not to think about it or worry about it, and the only way you can do that is by drinking. Getting drunk is just a fun side effect. He'll drive you from the bar, taking your shoes off before tucking you into his bed. He hates the idea that you're hurting yourself like this because of him, because he didn't listen to you and he took the V without regard to his or your safety. The least he could do was hold your hair while you threw up and bring you a glass of water and some Tylenol. You don't talk about it, though. You don't want to talk about him dying, you don't want to face that future, and you don't want to talk about your growing problem. You were drinking on the job, too, maintaining a certain numbness so that nothing else could hurt you.

Hughie hates that you're drinking more. He understands why. More and more stuff just keeps going wrong. More and more issues pop up. It's hard to be positive or optimistic. It was easier to find your way to the bottom of a bottle than to come face to face with any of this stuff. He doesn't mean to pry, but he asks you a lot of questions. The main one is why are you doing this? You just shrugged. It's so hard to explain. Everything feels like too much. You were tired, and scared, and you weren't sure you wanted to do this anymore. What was the point? He tried to cheer you up. You had the serum in the severed leg, you were so close, why give up now? You wanted to be that hopeful. You really did, but you couldn't.

Annie definitely lectures you. This is the third night in a row (this week alone) where the bartender called her, your emergency contact, taking your keys from you. You've been drinking a lot more, ever since you left The Seven and joined The Boys. You worked with Vought for so long, she knew there was a lot you weren't saying. She tried to talk to you about it, but you were so cagey, shutting her out instead. Shutting everyone out. It was awful, that much she knew. Still, everyone went through something. That didn't give you the right to get as drunk as you were as often as you were. You're barely listening, but she gives you her speech anyways. She'll keep telling it to you until something changes.

M.M. hates taking care of you when you're like this. The biggest thing he can't stand is the vomit. He stays as far away from you as possible, yelling from the across the room if you're okay. He offers hand sanitizer and napkins and mouthwash, but he refuses to get any closer than that. The noises alone make his skin crawl, let alone the smell. He's in charge now. He feels like he has to take care of everyone, regardless of the issue. You getting drunk wasn't a problem yet, but he knew he'd have to talk to you if it got worse. Drinking every night just to function during the day wasn't you. You couldn't keep going on like this. If that included tough love, so be it. You needed to hear it.

Frenchie drinks with you. He never goes as far as you, realizing that at least one of you should be slightly more sober. He doesn't really mind when you get drunk. Something happens with you. You become happier, sillier, more fun. You smile and laugh more. He likes seeing that. He likes knowing you're at least a little happier. Life had become so hard lately. Your past was catching up with you, and you didn't know how to handle it, so you got drunk. He understood the concern from everyone else, but he knew yelling and lecturing would change anything. At least he could be there for you. At least he could take care of you and laugh with you and be there. That's all you really needed.

Kimiko is quite gentle when you're drunk. She walks you home from the bar and takes off your shoes and asks you questions: Are you nauseous? Are you hungry? Thirsty? She gets it. When she saw the posters of the Shining Light Liberation Army, she drank more than a few beers. Anything she could get her hands on. Sometimes, you just need a little liquid courage to face the hard things. She makes sure you have pain relief for the headache you'll feel tomorrow and gets you something greasy to put in your stomach. She doesn't like or want to villainize your actions. You were all tired of this, fighting a battle you could not win. She stuck up for you when the others thought you were being messy or stupid. You just needed some time, that was all.

Bonus! Homelander thinks you're messy, a degenerate, and he won't tolerate it. When he knows you're drunk or hungover he makes a special point to seek you out, to punish you. You're a member of The Seven, you should act like it. The same way it infuriates him when Sage lobotomizes herself, he feels that when you start drinking. You have a public image to uphold. Even when you go out in civilian clothes, anyone could spot you. Anyone could ask for a photo or ask questions. It was stupid and selfish and reckless and as long as he's in charge, he won't tolerate it. He humiliates you, he says, because he cares. You think it's because he likes having power over you when you're at your most vulnerable.

Bonus! Soldier Boy thinks you're a lightweight and calls you out on it any chance he can get. There's no keeping up with him. Even being a Supe, you could still get incredibly drunk. Your tolerance was a lot higher than humans, but nowhere near Soldier Boys. He doesn't really take care of you when you're drunk. It's more like lying you on your side and leaving you to sleep. He's not very caring towards anyone, let alone someone he considers lesser than himself. He's fun to drink with, but the fun pretty much stops there. If he's feeling extra considerate, he might throw a blanket over you, but that's as far as he goes. He'll leave you and keep on drinking for the rest of the night. You being drunk won't put a damper on his legendary partying.

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natalchartnurtures · 5 months

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PAC: Energy Check~ for wherever you are right now

This was completely unplanned but frankly spirit doesn't give a fuck about my plans. So if this found you, here are some messages you probably need right now-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pile 1: Ooh.. as I was preparing to start your reading, I saw 11:11 as the Chariot card showed up for you. This. Tells me that you are pretty strongly connected to your divine path right now, which simply means that you're doing something that's keeping you in alignment, sweet pile one! Good job! Keep going down this road because you WILL stumble upon amazing experiences and people! This message is coming through quite strongly. Now, isn't that lovely? Hehe.

Here's the thing, though.. Although you're actually IN alignment with your greatest timeline and life, you seem to be completely UNAWARE of the fact! You might be going through the necessary purging emotionally and/or mentally as a result of this alignment since the "old stuff" has no more room in your new vibration anymore. So, you've probably had to go through some intense endings and/or tower moments in life lately and THIS has left you feeling really, really sad. Maybe even depressed. For some of you, if that's the case, please seek help, sweet soul. It doesn't have to be therapy but even as simple as talking to a trusted loved one, you know? Or even journaling about it could help if you're into it. It seems like you could use a new perspective on the things you're going through right now. I'm sensing that you might be feeling emotionally numb right now too, but that's because you've been doing a lot of emotional processing lately AND IT'S ALL PAYING OFF. I just need you to know that. You just can't see it right now because you're slap dead in the middle of the storm, and I'm looking at it from a bird's eye view, you know?

While you're purging old stuff, I also see you making your way through an old core belief - "I gotta work hard to be deserving of anything because I inherently don't" Or something along those lines. You may have started purging this belief as a result of life showing you that it's simply not something worth keeping alive inside you. Maybe recently, you caught yourself overworking yourself to death only to receive very little in return (in any area of your life - relationships included) and this experience helped you wake up to this unhelpful belief of yours. You're unlearning this belief as we speak. It's not easy though, but I CAN assure you, you're acing it.

If you find yourself worrying too much about anything and everything or simply feeling a general fear, just know that it's a normal reaction to having things uprooted in your life. Life, right now, is asking you to do your best to focus on what's right in front of you because if you do this, the future is guaranteed to sort itself out. I promise.

I love you so much, pile 1. I see all your hard work and am rooting for you SO hard, bro. Love and light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 2: Seems like to me that y'all have been STUCK in a particular pattern for a while now, maybe years? For some of you folks reading? Let me spell it out for you what this pattern looks like to me - an imbalance of the mind and heart. Too much mind and too little heart. Maybe none at all.

I can't seem to tap into the root of this imbalance, maybe because it's different for each of you reading, OR maybe it's not relevant to us right now because you can simply begin to address this imbalance as you see it in your day-to-day. But I sense that you're really good at addressing things, so once you're conscious of this pattern going on subtly in the background, running your life, you can really do something about this. This pattern may show up as you struggling with feeling fear, and this is blocking you off to one very important thing fear is here to show us, and that is how to support ourselves. If we are afraid of something we desire and have a healthy relationship with fear, we go for the desire while caretaking our fear. I read a quote the other day, it said "Do that thing you love but if you find that you're scared, then go do it scared." The point I'm trying to make is, fear isn't going to go away on its own, it's you who will simply expand your ability to hold space for it AND your desires equally. When you figure out how to do this, magic will happen in your life. You'll find that your unwillingness to caretake your fear only gave you more things to be afraid of (because, hello, Law Of Attraction *lol*), BUT you'll also find that when you radically start taking responsibility for your fear(s), you'll be able to act from a wiser space and be your full badass self. You'll find that there are so many things you CAN do and so much life you CAN live. Everything you've wanted to start doing in life will start to happen almost seamlessly. It WILL surprise you big time. You're currently making your way through an important part of your healing, and that is to hold yourself in all your glory. To hold all parts of yourself, even the ones that are scared shitless. Once you've integrated this segment of your healing, SO many doors will unlock for you. Sweet soul, you have no clue of JUST HOW MANY. And this… is probably because you manifest with your heart primarily (meaning you feel things deeply and so you unknowingly tap into the frequency of what you want easily) and your fear is keeping you stuck in your head, which means you're only 40% of the full You right now, PRIOR the healing of c. You might even feel it sometimes. You might feel like you're only a shell of a person (been there myself, you're not alone in this!). Listen to that feeling. Your truth lies in there. You're meant to be the 100% you, and I see that you're already halfway there!

I love you so much, pile 2, sending you so much light and love. Hope you find the resources you need to make it through to your new life where you live in more love than fear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 3: Man… y'all been fighting for your lives, huh? I see that you may be in the midst of a lot of divinely evoked darkness? Lol, I literally heard that - divinely evoked darkness. Maybe you're going through a dark night of the soul, perhaps? Whatever your're going through though, it seems like you've been hanging on for dear life.

Some good news for you- no matter the circumstances you're in right now (be it good, bad, or terrible), you've been doing all the work necessary to keep your head above water and have been diligently nurturing your own light, positivity, and essence. THAT'S incredible resilience, sweet pile 3, and I'm really proud of you! It's not easy to keep an open heart through bad times, and that's such a grand achievement in my eyes. UGH, BEAUTIFUL.

Your energy SCREAMS transition period vibes. You seem to be neither in your "old" timeline nor in the new one yet. You're sorta hanging in the middle right now. I see the Hanged Man in the third eye as I tell you this. Feels like you're in the void right now, and things just seem… bleh. Boring. Colorless. This is probably because you're already done with the ugly part of the process, "the divine shakeups", the loss, and the purge. Think… the bland but peaceful feeling you feel after having an intense ugly crying session, you know? Yeah, you're energetically there right now. You'll probably be here for a while longer because you've let go of MAJOR stuff, pile 3. Did you let go of people recently, maybe? Or that old bad habit, perhaps? That was the purge, so to speak. And now you're in the aftermath of it all, the uncomfortable but necessary calm.

-Side note: You might've struggled to embody your divine feminine earlier, but the timeline you're entering right now is the exact opposite of that. You might be attracted towards things that will help you nurture your own divine feminine right now. Give into it. Nurture patience, stillness, and compassion for self. It will HOPEFULLY speed up the void period if you consciously take part in it, you know?-

You're quite emotionally intelligent, and it has guided you throughout the whole process, and it also seems like it ain't your first rodeo in the process of proverbial death and rebirth. Good on you because you're doing a real good job keeping your calm through venturing into the unknown. You know what? You remind me of Elsa from Frozen, taking on the unknown like it belongs to her. You are such a queen, omg.

Yep, all that's left to do now is celebrate yourself, pile 3! Try your best to embrace this period, the void, and you'll be on your way to your next happy adventure! Love and light, sweet soul. Thanks for sharing your energy with me today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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evansbby · 5 months

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𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 (𝑾𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, smut, mean Ari, condescending Ari, seriously he babies her so much in this, manipulative Ari, in fact just wg!Ari bc y'all know he's a warning in himself, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), cheating, lying, adultery, kind of public sex, sugar daddy vibes, dirty talk.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You skip class to attend Ari's basketball practice because he finally wants to hang out with you.

𝐀/𝐍: This is a drabble that takes place before the events of Wicked Games. You don't have to read that fic to understand this drabble! Enjoy! And shoutout to this anon for the idea for this drabble!

“Ari, you were so great!!!”

You can’t contain your excitement. You’ve spent the better part of the past hour sitting front row and watching Ari dominate during basketball practice. In fact, you’re so excited that you forget yourself, jumping into him and throwing your arms around his neck to give him the biggest hug. It doesn’t help that you’re genuinely so excited to see him. You haven’t spoken to him for an entire week and a half. But Ari had told you that he was going through the process of breaking up with Sharon, and that he needed some alone time to do that. He’d told you he’d contact you when he needed you, and that just so happened to be today! And of course, you’d jumped at the opportunity to see him play.

“Baby, relax,” Ari chuckles, not quite hugging you back. He looks around to see if anyone has seen you embrace him. The court was slowly emptying out, but a few people are still milling around, and so he simply pats your back before gently peeling you off of him, “I know you’re excited to see me but we gotta wait till we’re alone, don’t we?”

You pout, “I know, I know. But I thought you’d broken up with Sharon by now like how you said you would.”

Ari pauses before he shoots you his winning smile, chucking you under your chin like you’re a baby or something. “I have broken up with her, beautiful. But you don’t worry your little head about that, alright?”

“But–”

“No buts, baby. Let daddy handle his business, okay?” He grabs your shoulders and turns you around, patting your ass condescendingly, “In fact, why don’t you go sit in the bleachers and wait till I call you over?”

You frown, a part of you not appreciating how he’s lowkey dismissing you. “But I skipped class to be here for you, Ari. Just like you told me to.”

“I know that. And I’ll show you how appreciative I am for that later. But right now, there’s still people around, and we gotta lay low for a while, okay? You know daddy only wants what’s best for us.”

You’re about to open your mouth to argue some more, but when he squeezes your hip reassuringly, all your thoughts melt away. Oh, he was just so dreamy! You loved how in control he was, how he walked around like he owned everything and everyone. How he controlled you with such charm and ease. He really was just so manly and perfect! And things would be even more perfect once he made you his new girlfriend. Which would probably be any day now.

You sit in the bleachers and watch him talk to his teammates. A few cheerleaders are milling about – probably friends of Sharon, which was definitely why Ari didn’t want to be seen with you. It was understandable, but Ari had told you that him and Sharon had been having problems for a while now. He’d told you that they fought a lot and he didn’t want to be with her anymore, and vice-versa. He’d also told you that you were a baby and you didn’t have to worry about his relationship problems because babies like you couldn’t handle stuff like that and it was better if you just didn’t think at all.

So, that’s what you do. You try not to think. Sometimes, it’s easier that way.

After around fifteen minutes, the last person leaves the indoor court, and Ari closes and locks the door behind him, a mischievous grin on his face. You vaguely wonder why he has the key to the sports hall and who exactly put him in charge of locking up, but think better of bringing it up with him. Ari never really answered any of your questions properly anyways, and he also had a way of making you forget you’d even asked them in the first place.

“Hey, cutie,” he easily picks you up off the bench and into his arms, your tiny pink skirt riding upwards but he doesn’t care. In fact, he cups your butt cheeks lewdly, giving them a squeeze as he carries you down the steps towards the front benches, “I love your little outfit.”

You want to be mad at him for making you wait an extra fifteen minutes while he had ignored you, but your insides turn to mush at his compliment. You’d chosen your outfit especially for him, of course. Early on in your “relationship,” Ari had made it clear how he’d wanted you to dress for him. In cute, girly clothes – always revealing so he’d have something to look at while he played. And always short, so he’d have easy access once he had you all to himself.

And you loved dressing up for him. Today, you’d worn a cute light pink miniskirt and a white tank top with matching pink lacy trim. You’d gotten a few looks from the other guys on the basketball team – namely Curtis, who had even winked at you! But all of them paled in comparison to Ari – he was the biggest and sexiest and hottest man you’d ever known. And you were so glad that your outfit had impressed him.

“Thank you, I wore it just for you,” You beam up at him, winding your arms around his neck again to be as close to him as possible as he smirks and sits down on the bench, with you in his lap. “Although it’s not very nice how you ignored me the whole time I was here!”

“Aww, you’re such a little baby, aren’t you?” Ari coos, doing that thing where he starts babying you to the extreme. He even reaches up to pull your cheek condescendingly. “Little baby skipped her class to see me, huh?”

“Uh huh!”

“Well, you have my full attention now, sweetheart,” He fingers the material of your skirt, pushing it up even more to get a better look at your bare legs. “And of course I know you wore this for me, you always wear your slutty little outfits to impress me. I find it very cute, actually.”

He kisses the top of your nose while you squirm, embarrassed at how obvious your attempts at winning his favour are. It’s just, you can’t help it! He’s the hottest, most popular senior on campus and for some reason, he’s interested in plain, simple little you! You feel like you’re living in a fairytale sometimes.

You open your mouth to say something, but soon grow distracted by Ari as he slips the straps of your top down your shoulders. Then he dips his finger into your cleavage before tugging your top down. He licks his lips when your lacy pink bra is exposed, cupping your tits through the material and squeezing. Hard. It makes you wince, but you know better than to stop Ari while he’s fondling you. You’ve learnt that he likes to take his time with your body, exploring, kissing, caressing and touching each crevice. He especially loves your ass, and recently he’s been quite into your tits too.

Just the other night, he’d made you give him a strip tease. He’d sat on the edge of your bed, a can of beer in his hand from whatever party he’d stumbled out of before making his way to your dorm room in the early hours of the morning. “Strip for daddy, and maybe I’ll give you a reward,” he’d said, watching with dark, expectant eyes as you’d shyly slipped your PJ top off. “Slower, baby,” he’d commanded, before grabbing the front of your bra and yanking you into him with such force that your pretty bra had snapped completely, and your tits had spilled out. Immediately, he’d latched on to your nipple, sucking, nipping and biting for what seemed like hours. He’d even poured his beer all over your breasts, licking it off while he made you hump his thigh and cum over and over again till you’d cried like a little baby from the overstimulation.

Now, the memory makes you shiver as you watch Ari play with your tits, a look of unabashed lust on his face. Shyly, you bring your fingers up to card through his thick hair, smiling when he slightly leans into your touch.

“Are we gonna go back to your room tonight, Ari?” You ask him innocently, twirling a piece of his hair round your finger.

“Nah, I have somewhere to be later, baby. You know how it is.”

Your heart sinks and you pout, hoping he’d see your disappointment but he’s too busy fondling your body to notice. You’d never been to Ari’s room before – he’d told you never to go there. That if he wanted to see you, he’d call or text you himself. The furthest you’d gotten to was the inside of Ari’s car in the dead of the night when the roads were all empty. Apart from that, he always just came to your dorm room. In fact, you’d given him a spare key to make it easier for him to come and go as he pleased, hoping this would show him how serious you were about him.

Suddenly annoyed that he was going to ditch you tonight to go somewhere else, you untangle yourself from him and jump off his lap, a glimmer in your eye.

“I wanna play basketball!” You say, voice all sweet and twinkly. It wasn’t often that you ever got to tease him, and even rarer when you succeeded. But that didn’t mean you’d stop trying.

Ari looks unamused, “Get back on my lap.”

“No, I think I’m gonna play some basketball.” You muse, skipping away from him and hoping he chases you. You grab a basketball from nearby and dribble it gently, not wanting to ruin your nails, “Come play, daddy.”

Teasing Ari always went one of two ways. Often, he just wouldn’t have it, telling you that babies like you weren’t meant to tease, that you didn’t know how. He’d shut down your teasing instantly, telling you that he was the one who’d taught you everything you knew about sex and therefore he’d always be two steps ahead of you. Either that, or he’d just lose his patience and fuck you hard just to show you that you could never tease your daddy, that he’d always be in control.

But sometimes… Oh, sometimes he’d play along.

Now, he stands up to his full height (six foot six and a half, last time he’d let you measure him), and in two easy strides he’s on the shiny court floor next to you. You smile cutely up at him, dribbling the ball in front of his face. But a mere second later, he snatches it away from you before you’ve even realised what’s happened. Smirking, he spins it around on the tip of his pointer finger with ease, looking down at you cockily.

“You wanna play, huh? Fine. Let’s play.”

What follows is insanity. You’d thought he’d go easy on you, but he does the exact opposite. “Try and steal the ball from me,” he challenges, dribbling circles around you while you try to grab it from him. But you’re way too slow, and too small. Easily, he switches hands while dribbling, or he holds the ball over your head, making you jump for it. At one point, you do manage to get hold of the ball, but he slaps it out of your grasp so easily it’s laughable. Except the only one laughing is him, while you shoot him a sour look.

Your plan had been to be lithe and fast, trying to look sexy on the court as you dodged him each time he tried to grab you. But Ari’s got you all sweaty and bothered, running around the court and trying to catch up with him as if it’s a basketball bootcamp or something.

“C’mon, Miss ‘I wanna play basketball,’ try and shoot a basket,” Ari taunts you as if you’re one of his real-life opponents, throwing the ball at you not-so-lightly. You breathe hard and scowl at him before taking aim and doing your best imitation of a jump shot. But Ari, being the giant that he is, easily slaps the ball away before it even touches the rim of the basket. He doubles over in laughter, “Wow, princess. You really suck.”

“Don’t be mean!” You complain, trying to shoot again. “It’s ‘cause you’re in the way, you big giant! Move so I can see where I’m shooting!”

Ari rolls his eyes, not budging an inch, “It’s called guarding, genius.”

“I don’t care what it’s called! It’s not fair if I can’t see the basket!”

He shrugs, moving to the side. You smile, take aim and shoot. But of course, he easily swats the ball aside again, using his other hand to stifle his yawn while you gape at him.

Then, he decides it’s time to teach you how to do a layup shot, “Just take three running steps and jump to shoot.”

“Okay, Ari, thanks for the pointer!”

You take a deep breath, preparing to do just that. Except he shoves you the moment you start running. But even a light shove from someone as big as Ari has enough force that you fall over, ending up in a sorry heap on the shiny court floor, a dismayed look on your face as you stare at your broken nail.

Ari doubles over in laughter, as if he’s just performed the practical joke of the century. You pout, staring sadly at your poor nail. You’d just gotten this set done less than a week ago in anticipation that he’d notice and say something! You can’t help it when your lower lip juts outward even more, your eyes welling with tears.

“Aww, come on, don’t be such a baby,” Ari crouches down next to you, patting your head condescendingly, “It’s not my fault girls suck at basketball.”

“You’re a big fat cheater and a meanie!”

“And you’re the cutest little cry-baby,” he chuckles, pulling your cheek while you glare at him through your tears. Oh, why did he have to look so handsome, even with that cocky, shit-eating grin on his face? He wipes your tears with his thumb, amusement shining through his eyes, “See, that’s what happens when you try and act like a tease.”

You cross your arms over your chest, “I hate you.”

“For being a better basketball player?”

“No! For cheating and for being mean and for breaking my nail!” You sniffle, “I’m a girl, Ari, you’re supposed to go easy on me!”

“I was going easy on you.”

He bursts out laughing when you shoot him another glare. But what you don’t expect is him lifting you up. Easily, as if you’re as light as a feather, he hoists you on top of his shoulders. Fearfully, you hang on tight for dear life as he stands up to his full height, handing you the basketball in the process.

“Fine, if the baby wants special treatment, I guess that’s what you’ll get,” he says, walking over to the hoop till you’re face to face with it. “C’mon, baby. Shoot your shot. If you miss from up there, then I’ll have no faith left in you.”

Smiling through the remnants of your tears, you finally score a basket, letting out a delighted little yelp despite the fact that you’ve literally been hoisted up to eye level with the hoop. “I did it! I scored a point!”

Ari gently puts you down on your feet, before thinking better of it and hoisting you up again. This time, you wrap your legs around his waist while his hands rest firmly on your ass.

“You did,” he says softly, “You scored a point. Well done, baby.”

He kisses you, and the gentleness of it catches you by surprise. But it only lasts a second or two before he grows impatient. Then, his kisses grow more ravenous, biting at your lips and pushing his tongue past them. But even when it’s all fast and rugged, his kisses are still the best, they still make your head spin in the best way possible, make you want to make out with him forever if he’d let you.

He takes you back over to the benches, back to how you two were before the impromptu basketball match. But this time, he quickly slips your top off, till you’re straddling him in just your pink lacy bra and your tiny little skirt.

“You broke my nail, by the way,” you point out when he takes your hand and presses it against his hard crotch.

“Mm?” Surprisingly, Ari tears himself away from kissing and fondling you to take a look at your broken nail and scoff, “Just glue it back on or whatever.”

“That’s not how it works, Ari!”

He rolls his eyes, before getting his phone out of his pocket. You watch as he types away, not too sure what he’s doing. But you don’t have to wonder for long, when a second later, your own phone pings with a notification.

A. Levinson transferred $400 to your bank account.

“Oh my gosh, Ari! You shouldn’t have!” You squeal happily, inadvertently bouncing up and down in his lap and making him grunt and press his boner up against your butt. You hug him tightly, maybe deliberately pressing your chest against him. “Seriously, nails don’t cost this much to get done.”

He shrugs, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “Then go buy yourself something nice with whatever’s left.”

You definitely would! Oh, you loved how he took care of you! This wasn’t the first time Ari had sent you money casually on a whim. It’s how you’d found out that he was loaded – or his parents were. Like in the three weeks that you’d been hooking up with him, he’d surprised you with multiple gifts and gestures. Once he’d had a box of very expensive lingerie delivered to your room along with an intricate bouquet of pink roses. The lingerie had been pink too, and you loved how he knew it was your favourite colour.

He was also always calling you Ubers, and ordering food for you, and sending you exorbitant amounts of money whenever you mentioned having to get the bus to go into town or something normal like that. Once, you’d said you were going shopping with Wanda, and Ari had told you to take his credit card with you. You’d declined, obviously, but it made you giddy knowing how well you’d be taken care of once he made you his official girlfriend.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say sweetly. Feeling slightly devilish now, you get off his lap and sink down to your knees in front of him. Ari shoots you a cocky look, pressing the top of your head down as he pushes your hand past the waistband of his sweats. You lick your lips when your fingers encircle around his thick cock, pulling it out right there in the middle of the court.

You’d never given a blowjob before Ari, and he’d made sure to teach you how to do it to his exact liking. Now, he holds your hair out of the way so he can see your face as he shoves his dick past your lips. He always warned you that you had to maintain eye contact while you sucked his dick, that all good babies looked their daddy straight in the eye when getting their throat fucked. And you feel him get even harder, the act of stuffing his huge cock down your tiny throat making him hornier than ever.

“Good girl,” Ari breathes, petting your head condescendingly, “Such a good little girl for daddy. You take my cock so well, don’t you? Like your lips were made for sucking cock, fuck!”

You try to take him as deep as you possibly can, but he’s way too big and girthy for you to deep-throat him all the way. The first time you’d tried, you’d ended up gagging and crying and Ari had laughed at you and called you a baby and told you that you had to learn to be a better cocksucker if you wanted to keep him happy. You’d promised that you’d try, and he’d been all too happy to teach you, using those “lessons” as an excuse to get you on your knees in front of him as many times as he wanted.

Not that he ever needed an excuse. He knew as well as you did that Ari Levinson owned your body.

“You’re such a slutty little girl, sucking your daddy’s cock in the middle of the basketball court,” Ari whispers, his voice so gravelly yet velvety smooth at the same time, turning you on down to your core. “Is this why you were so desperate to see me, baby? You wanted my cock that badly, huh?”

He pulls your head back, and you gasp for breath before nodding desperately, “Y-Yeah, I think about you all the time!”

Ari smirks, “I know you do. You’re fucking obsessed with me, aren’t you?” He yanks your hair, making you nod your head up and down with your mouth stuffed with his cock once more. “And you look so fucking cute, baby. On your knees for your daddy like the obedient little girl you are.”

He thrusts into your mouth hard as fast, effectively fucking your face ruthlessly. He often got like that, rough and hard and rugged. He was just so strong, and you guessed that sometimes he just didn’t know his own strength. Like now, as he bobs your head up and down roughly on his thick length, like an iron rod jamming in and out of your mouth at top speed, getting your face all messy in the process – which he also loved.

From your peripheral, you see Ari’s phone vibrate and glow from where he’s kept it right next to him on the bench. And you don’t mean to invade his privacy, but it’s close enough that you can just about make out the text that appears on his screen.

Curtis: You still with your little fangirl? 😂😂😂

You pull off Ari’s dick with a pop, quickly wiping your mouth and frowning up at him.

“Fangirl?!”

Ari grabs his phone and reads the text quickly before setting it down again and smirking. He rubs your cheek softly while pumping his dick casually with his other hand.

“Classic Curtis. He probably meant to send that to Colin. You know Colin Shea, right baby? He and his band had a gig tonight, and he has literal fangirls who come watch his every show. That’s what Curtis was referring to.”

Oh. That made sense. Didn’t it?

You smile up at Ari sheepishly, “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions.”

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, instead yanking you up by the hair till you’re on your feet once more, standing between his legs while he looks at you and pumps his dick. Pulling you into his lap, his hands immediately go to your butt, kneading it and squeezing it like it’s a toy. You can feel his dick, hot and heavy and twitching against your stomach, and it makes you want to press your thighs together.

Ari seems to get the message, finally pushing his hand between your legs to give your poor, neglected pussy some attention.

“She missed me, huh?” Ari grins wolfishly, his fingers gliding up your soaking slit before he pinches your clit meanly. “Tell me how your little baby pussy missed her daddy.”

“Sh-She missed you!” You garble, playing along with his dirty talk as you rock against his hand, wanting him to push his fingers inside you, or rub you or do something to make you feel good too. You haven’t felt his expert touch in more than a week, and your body is desperate for the relief that only Ari Levinson could give you.

Instead, he grabs your hips, lifting you and lining your cunt up on top of his hard dick. Oh, he was going to fuck you! Right here in the bleachers of the basketball court! Thrill ripples through you at the thought of doing something so naughty, although you’re happy that he’d locked the doors and no one was able to come inside.

“How bad do you want my daddy dick?” He breathes, looking all casual as if he’s not as feral for you as you are for him. You envy how well he hides his desperation, how in control he always is. You wish you were like that, but sex was so new and exciting to you. He’d made you obsessed with his cock, he’d made you want him all the time, and you had zero patience when it came to fucking him and getting that sweet pleasure only he could give you.

“So, so bad, Ari! Please put it in me! Please!”

“I don’t know, baby,” He pretends to think about it, the cockiest smile on his face, “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”

“Please do it!”

Desperately, you grab at his cock but he easily slaps your hands away and shoots you a warning look.

“Beg me some more,” he orders you while pumping his dick lazily, “And I’ll think about it.”

You do. You beg him and you plead him. With Ari, your self-respect and dignity sometimes went out the window and you didn’t even care. When he’s got you all submissive and desperate, you’d do absolutely anything he asked of you. He’s got you right under his thumb and he knows it, and all you can do is cry like a baby, and whine for his cock. Tell him how badly you want it, how you’ve been craving him and missing him all week. How you always think about him, how you miss how full he made you feel the last time he fucked you. How he made you see stars behind your eyes with how skilled of a lover he was.

Ari smirks, praising you for being such a desperate little slut for him, and he’s about to sink you down on his dick when his phone starts vibrating again. This time, you don’t see the name that flashes on the screen, but you pout in dismay when he answers the call.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m with Curtis.”

You frown. Who was he talking to? One of his other friends?

“Tonight? Really?” Ari frowns, listening to whoever’s talking on the other end, “Yeah, that’s cool.”

He grunts, “Okay, I’ll be there when I’ll be there. I’m busy right now. Bye.”

He hangs up before focusing his attention back on you.

“Wh-Who was that, Ari?”

“No one.”

You bite your lip, “Was it Sharon? I thought you said you broke up with her?”

“We’re practically broken up,” he says vaguely before he starts kissing your neck. “You done asking questions?”

“I just think that– AH! OH FUCK!”

In one quick motion, Ari slams you down on his cock. Hard. You scream and grip on to his muscular biceps tightly, and he doesn’t give you even one second to adjust or catch your breath before he starts bouncing you up and down.

“Little girls like you aren’t meant to ask their daddies dumb questions,” he whispers silkily in your ear, forever casual and unperturbed as he fucks you hard, “So now the only think I want to hear coming out of your mouth is my name, got that?”

“Ngh, fuck! Y-Yes, daddy!”

“That’s my good little girl.”

AHHHH omg, first wicked games drabble done!! Poor reader, she has no idea the rollercoaster she's in for. I had forgotten how innocent and naive she was until I reread WG1 a few days ago, and that's why she's so innocent here! Ari really goes on to do a number on her lmfaooo (and Steve too). BUT ANYWAYS. Do let me know what you thought! Reblogs, comments, asks with feedback are all SOOOO welcome! This is around 4k words btw but I wrote it fairly quickly in a few hours! TYSM K I SHALL STOP YAPPING NOW BYE.

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #wicked games

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