#yeah my mother is kinda not a cool person | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dadsbongos · 3 months

Text

my wife is cool, understanding, and goes with the flow

5.7 k words / warnings - fem reader (+referred to as mother/wife), chilchuck's emotional turmoil (he's so in love and so incapable of verbalizing it)

summary - general strings of yours and chilchuck's marriage. good to bad to making up.

~~~

“You know,” you whisper, “If you ignore how nightmarish they were to raise, then they’re kinda perfect kids.”

Chilchuck snorts, letting you hang off his arm as you stand in the doorway to your living room.

Meijack and Flertom are strewn across the couch in opposite directions, Flertom’s feet dangling off an armrest and Meijack’s in her sister’s face. Thankfully, Flertom is not awake to notice the violation of personal space. Puckpatti is curled on the floor before the couch, long auburn hair flayed out and draped over her arms, which she uses as a makeshift pillow.

The front door is wide open, gentle pittering rain having lulled the girls to sleep. Puckpatti had been the one to suggest a ‘slumber party’ in the common space as it rained, even likening the cool air and atmospheric petrichor to camping to incite Meijack. As far as you know, however, none of the girls have been camping, so you’re mystified how that reasoning actually worked.

“Mei and Fler are so big now,” he muses, “Mei thinks she’s ready for the adult world now.”

“As if,” you lay your cheek on his shoulder, silently wishing he’d take the opportunity to kiss your temple. He does not, “We were barely ready when we had them. How’s a nine-year-old prepared for that?”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

Meijack, as if sensing her parents’ lighthearted jabs, rolls over with a grumble and hum, flinging a foot into Flertom’s nose. The younger twin’s face wrinkles in protest, head jerking in the opposite direction -- you and Chilchuck freeze, anticipating a shrill cry, until Flertom relaxes again. The sigh of relief is short, though.

Abruptly, Chilchuck goes rigid, jolting you off him, “Why is Patti on the floor? Like a dog?”

“How am I supposed to know what goes on in that kid’s brain?”

Chilchuck shakes his head and steps over the young girl to shut your front door. Squeaky hinges pull a whine from Patti herself, drowsily rubbing her eyes and calling, “Papa, don’t shut it!”

“What? You want a troll to get in?” he asks sarcastically.

“No,” Puckpatti answers in earnest.

“That’s why Papa wants the door shut,” you kneel by your youngest daughter, brushing back her bangs just to watch her eyebrows scrunch cutely, “So no nasty trolls can get inside…” then you remember your husband’s complaint, “Patti, baby, do you wanna sleep in a chair? Or a bed? The ground doesn’t look very nice to rest on.”

“Yeah, Mama’s right. The ground’s gonna mess up your back,” Chilchuck joins you, ready to scoop up your daughter when she shakes her head.

“Wanna stay by Mei and Fler…” she pouts.

“Okay, but let me set out some more blankets, alright?” you kiss her on the forehead once, then twice when she beams and nods.

Chilchuck is already standing to retrieve spare blankets from your closet, he’s back before you can impede the hallway. He stops you from venturing further by propping a leg in front of you, “Don’t worry about it, I got everything.”

“She’ll need a real pillow, too, honey.”

“Yeah,” he taps at your ankles with his foot until you’re relenting, turning back towards the living room, “I said I got it.”

“Thank goodness for my big, strong man, huh?”

“I am the breadwinner,” he teases, granting you a kiss on the cheek before dropping to lay the blankets out as a makeshift mattress for Puckpatti.

“Self-imposed!” you rasp, stage-swatting at his back, “I could get a job, too!”

“Do you want to?” you want to smack the smug grin off his lips, specifically with your own. In a kiss. For a long while.

“...no.”

He laughs at your sudden shyness. Tempered down only to avoid waking your daughters, “There you go.”

“Boo,” you pull Chilchuck to a stand by the back of his shirt. You pull, and pull, and pull, and you don’t stop until he’s tumbling on top of you into your shared bed, with your door haphazardly kicked shut, “You’re mean to me.”

“I’m mean?!” he whisper-shouts, instantly more affectionate in how he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck, “You choked me, yanking on my shirt like that.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?”

“Barely,” he abruptly goes limp, “I’m half dead.”

“Half dead isn’t a thing, Chil,” you giggle, trying halfheartedly to shove him off.

“It is, I’m half dead,” he insists, “There’s only one way to revive me.”

“Uh-huh… and that is?”

“A kiss,” Chilchuck lifts his head to look you in the eyes, suggestively bumping his eyebrows, “A sloppy one.”

“No!” you gasp, dramatically.

“Loud and wet,” he nods in even measures, clicking his tongue, “Only way, I guess. Really tough for you.”

“I don’t know about that,” you wiggle out an arm from beneath his body to poke his cheek, “You seem fine now. Very lively and talkative!”

“Means I’m dying faster. It’s the final burst of energy before I shit my pants and die.”

“Ew!” your shout is smothered beneath Chilchuck’s hand, his laughter rumbling your body, forehead digging into your collarbones.

Between choked chuckles Chilchuck manages out a meek, “sorry, sorry!” he gasps for breath and releases your mouth, “That was gross.”

“Yeah, now get off me. You’re nasty.”

“See? You’re mean to me, one mention of shit and I’m just an expendable stud.”

As soon as Chilchuck rolls off you and onto his back, you’re crowding onto him, pawing at his chest and kissing his cheek, “You are a stud.”

“Can I get a kiss for that, at least?”

“I just kissed you, greedy.”

His deadpan stare inspires a bizarre longing in your thumping chest, you stretch to grant his wish. Chilchuck’s hands cup your cheek, holding you close to prolong the kiss as long as you’ll allow. Such restless and selfish want is reserved for behind closed doors, which you wish you could understand, but you don’t.

You’re preoccupied with the dread of death. Half-foots are blessed to live past fifty. Sure, you and Chilchuck are merely scratching at twenty, but life is too short for him to be shy about these things.

“I wish you’d be more open and lovey.”

“Hm?” he hums against your lips, pulling away to stare at you strangely, “Why?”

“‘Why?’” you mock, “I’m your wife! That’s why.”

Instinctually, Chilchuck goes to wave off the answer as a joke and roll his eyes, but then something barks. Both of you pause, heads turning slowly towards the now gaping door to find a shaggy white puppy standing in the dim space. Swiftly, its tail wags, and it barks again before charging towards your bed.

Your screech at the dash rouses Chilchuck from his shock. Clumsily shuffling so he’s in front of you, taking the brunt of the dog’s pounce.

“Since when do we have a dog?!” Chilchuck looks over his shoulder at you, as if you’d know.

“As if I know!” you parrot your thoughts, breath slowing to a calm when the small dog cuddles your husband’s arms, “Kinda cute though, right?”

“He broke in!” Chilchuck accuses, lifting a shoulder to prevent you petting it -- his plan fails miserably and you’re easily scratching behind the dog’s ears, “He could have ticks! He could’ve bit the girls on his way back here!”

“No,” you whine, resting your chin on Chilchuck’s shoulder, “He has a friendly face, he’d never do that!”

“And you know that how…?”

“Aw, Chil, honey, have a heart! He was probably scared of the rain and snuck inside to get away from it!” you reach under the dog’s head to now scritch his chin, “Which is our fault for leaving the door open, isn’t it?” you’re already a lost cause to logic, repeating back to the puppy, “Isn’t it? Yes, it is! Yes, it is! He understands me! He’s so smart, Chil, we have to keep him.”

His silent glowering makes you wilt over his back.

You retreat from the dog to hug your husband from behind, “C’mon, have a heart!”

Irritation pulses through Chilchuck at the turn of tonight’s events. Everything before this dumb dog felt natural, smooth, and familiar. Until you said that.

One thing that makes his heart rate spike. Even though, at twenty, it means very little to him.

‘I wish you’d be more open and lovey.’

He knows this means more.

“Okay, okay,” he eases, snatching a chaste smooch from you before combing a hand down the dog’s soft fur, “I’ll work on it.”

You two never had a dog, though.

Puckpatti is allergic -- you never would’ve gotten a dog since it’d cause your daughter so much distress.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog, but it isn’t a mimic.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog because this isn’t real.

Chilchuck’s eyes drift open, a dusty ceiling stares down at him. Slowly, a crushing weight is relieved from his stomach.

Blonde and black hair mingle in his peripherals, then Laios is leaning over him obnoxiously, speaking to the other two while looking at the half-foot, “Does Chil sleep with his eyes open?”

“No,” Chilchuck takes initiative, shoving Laios away by the chin and sitting up with a yawn. His back cracks unpleasantly, and eye crust pokes into his fluttering lids. Rubbing the gross clots away, Chilchuck settles his elbows onto his knees before resting that way -- leaning into his hands even after his eyes have been cleared out.

For a moment, he silently mourns the fading images of his dream; already having forgotten the beginning. No matter how desperately he clings to the story, it escapes, leaking out his ears until all there is left to mourn is the fact he’s awake.

All he knows is that dream ended differently than it should have. Hopefully the ending this time was better than real life, not that it matters. He wouldn’t remember, nor would it change the fact that in reality you two are not together.

“Chilchuck? Are you okay?” Marcille sounds hesitant. Worried.

The last thing he needs is her fretting and prying into what his Nightmare could’ve been about, so instead he lamely says, “Tired.”

“Oh, okay,” she sounds entirely unconvinced. He’s surprised when she doesn’t push.

He’s further surprised when Laios does, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

…

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Chil’,” you croon, hands curling around the man’s waist as he silently uncorks a bottle of cheap wine. He makes sure not to jostle you off as he moves the dark glass to his lips, even cupping your overlapping hands with one of his own to steady you, “You should talk to me about these things!”

“It was fine, we went in -- got what we needed -- got out. I’m back and alive.”

‘Alive’ strikes you, it sticks in the back of your head as soon as he says it. Your arms tighten around his slim waist, the slots of his ribs dig into your forearms and it makes your chest tighten. Swirling thoughts colliding and dragging each other deeper and deeper into your darker concerns: Chilchuck starving himself to maintain an unhealthy weight, Chilchuck burning calories in a revival, Chilchuck having to drink himself under just to fall asleep.

“Would you tell me if you died?”

“Why would you want to know that?” he laughs, yet you’re frowning into his back.

You bite your lip until raw iron spills onto your tongue, gnawing it with the anxiety of how to soften this question. How marshmallowy can you make your tone to avoid lecturing while also not patronizing him? Eventually, you settle on just spitting it out,

“Would you even remember it?” he hums, confused, “You drink a lot, Chil’.”

He squeezes your hands, setting down his wine to turn in your hold, now cupping your cheeks -- flush with upset and ready to dampen with tears, “I don’t get blackout on jobs, you know?”

“But,” you don’t want to pester him, to drive him away from home even during his off time, “Chil’, honey, you’re… with your weight, alcohol could- well- !”

“I know,” he interrupts your stammering, drawing a thumb across the apples of your face tenderly. Though his posture is rigid, and his next statement confirms your suspicion that he just wants to stop talking about this, “I appreciate you looking out for me, but really, don’t think so much about it. Work’s not worth talking about at home. And my drinking is totally recreational, I want to enjoy myself and unwind, is that so bad?”

“No,” you heave with defeat, now planting your forehead against his shoulder. Clenching his shirt in a bunch, you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze hoping it’ll squash out any thoughts of continuing to nag his drinking. It’ll end the same way it always does.

Chilchuck is fine because work is fine and his drinking is fine and his diet is fine because Chilchuck is perfectly perpetually fine.

You’re just a worrywart wife. Your kids are grown, having flown the coop, and you’re going mad in loneliness. You should think less. You should learn to be fine like your husband.

…

“Woah, no way! They want to meet me?”

“Uh-huh,” Chilchuck’s eyes trail after you as you rush from one end of the room to the other, clicking jewelry clasps and snapping buttons into place as you go, “It’s nothing to dress up over,” when you seem to ignore him, he only gets louder, “We’re gonna be late, you know?”

Let me dress up! is what you want to snap at him, but you don’t. Instead, you let those comments join the many others from him that rattle around in the back of your mind like rocks.

“I want to make a good impression,” you finally utter, “It isn’t like you tell me anything about work, I’m excited to meet your friends! Besides, if you wanted me to be more prepared then you should’ve said something earlier.”

“I get it,” and in a bid to be polite, but just coming out tumbling into the rock pile is, “If you had work friends, I’d wanna meet them, too.”

The obvious dig is that you don’t get out. Now that the girls are older and independently caring for themselves, you could more easily find work… the problem lies in how you don’t really want to. You’d be too scared of Chilchuck returning home to an empty house, whenever it is that he does come home.

The hidden dig is that he’s fibbing, he would never want to meet your friends like you want to meet his.

Nevertheless, you tuck a white hyacinth cob into your hair and head for the spot Chilchuck claims his group frequents for after-work drinks. Before tonight, it never really occurred to you that Chilchuck might be grabbing drinks with other people. Not that such an idea alone is what bothers you, rather that he’s out so often and for so long potentially enjoying himself while you’re stuck at home sick over whether he’s alive.

Upon arrival, a pair of tallmen greet you both. Smiles light up their faces, cheeks balling with glee, when their eyes spot you. It should probably be embarrassing how quickly such an insignificant act can get you excited. You wave and they wave back.

“Gonna introduce the lovely lady?” the slightly taller one, black haired with stubble stretching down his neck, prompts.

“We should get to the table first,” Chilchuck reaches for the door, holding it open for you.

(if you were presenting Chilchuck to your friends then you’d repeat yourself introducing him ad infinitum with shining pride, but you add that thought to your rock collection)

“This is my wife,” Chilchuck pulls out your chair for you, waiting until you’re sat before adding your name and sitting beside you, “Hope she’s everything you all hoped for.”

You choose to ignore that. Preferring to strike conversation with his friends until,

“You know,” the blonde woman at the head of the table leans forward, you’ve been rudely trying to avoid looking at her. But how can you blame yourself when she stares at your husband with such a sultry, lidded gaze, “I think you were exaggerating how spacey she is, Chilchuck. Adorable thing’s been keyed into our conversation the whole time.”

Chilchuck grumbles into his rapidly emptying mug of ale, then locking eyes with the blonde woman, “You don’t live with her.”

“Hey!” you sound bratty and grating with the whine, but your spirit feels worse, “Is that what you tell them about me?”

“And clumsy,” the gnome directly across from you chirps.

“But!” the black-haired one from earlier interrupts, apparently sensing your drowning mood, “You’re a good mom! Great, even!”

“Oh,” the compliment does very little to satiate you, given what’s been said against you (you don’t stop to consider that Chilchuck mentions those things because he finds them charming). You look over to your husband, “I’m a good mom?”

Chilchuck is drunkenly chortling over something you hadn’t heard the blonde woman say.

But at least you’re a good mom.

Something plops against the hand buried in your lap. A scattered white hyacinth. Embarrassed suddenly by how much effort you put into your outfit, you sweep the flower off your leg and stare at the table -- praying to avoid more glimpses of the blonde at the head of the table.

Nobody seems to notice your veil of silence, not even Chilchuck to tease you proving his point about spacing out.

On the trek home, you trail behind Chilchuck to test if he’ll notice. At some point, you’re three full paces behind him, and you theorize that the weight of all your freshly added brain-rocks is slowing you down. Again, he holds the door to your shared home open, but does not ask the cause for your sour mood.

Assuming he’s even noticed, anyway.

Given the way he leaves the next morning for another job with little more than a kiss to your forehead, you assume he didn’t. Venomously, you wonder if he would notice the blonde in a bad mood.

That same morning, not knowing how long he’ll be away this time, you pack up and head for Flertom��s house with Puckpatti.

(a flickering hope tries to toss the rocks through your ears, assuring that Chilchuck will come for you as soon as he’s seen you missing)

…

Four years later, Chilchuck does finally come for you.

“Hey, Mama?” Flertom creeps around the corner to the kitchen, hands wrinkled in the skirt of her dress nervously, “You have a visitor…”

Looking up from your book, you roll the handle of your coffee mug in your palm, making the bottom scrape against your daughter’s tablecloth, “Who’d visit me?”

“Dad.”

That makes you hesitate before slipping your book closed around your thumb, “Your father’s here?”

“He’s at the door,” she nods, voice lowering as if he’d hear her across the house, “There’s an elf lady with him!”

“Oh, you’re- !” you purse your lips, sighing through your nose, and nod. Rising to a stand, you replace your thumb with a proper bookmark before skirting around Flertom and through the hall. Curses coagulate in your throat, and you suffer them silently, holding them until they melt back into your chest, not wanting to swear out your ex in front of his daughter.

With more force than perhaps necessary, you pull the door open and annoyedly flick your eyes from Chilchuck to the blonde elf woman behind him.

“What? Came to show off?”

Chilchuck flushes red, shaking his head and tilting a preciously wrapped bouquet towards you, “No! No, we’re not together.”

Elf Lady lets out a quiet gasp before refusing sharply, “Not together at all! He’s here for you!”

“I figure he’s here for me,” you’re much more bitter than you thought you’d be, although to be fair whenever you imagined Chilchuck coming to see you he was never with another woman, “If you’re not together, why are you here?”

She frowns at your tone, Chilchuck sticking an arm out in front of her, “She’s my coworker. And friend. She pushed me to come see you,” he steps forward, waving the flowers under your nose, “Can we talk?”

“About what, Chilchuck?”

His eyes widen at the use of his formal name, plastic wrap crinkling loudly as he squeezes the flowers. Then his gaze drops to his feet, “I didn’t realize we were so unfamiliar.”

“I haven’t heard from you in four years.”

“You haven’t heard from me?” he grins sideways, an agitated twitch in his left eye, “Do you hear yourself?”

You open your mouth to retort, only to then catch the sight of Chilchuck’s ‘friend’ lingering -- staring -- not even three feet back. Glaring at her, you begin to slide the door shut, “I think we’re done here. You show up at our daughter’s house, unannounced, with some pretty, blonde filly and expect us to chat like old friends? You’re just as insensitive as always, Chilchuck!”

As you go to slam the door, Chilchuck shoves his foot in the way, hissing at the resounding ache all through his instep and ankle. Breathless from the sudden pain, he worms the bouquet through the slim gap -- a few stray powder blue hyacinth petals fluttering to the floor at the pressure. Just above the plush flowers is the sorrowful sight of Chilchuck’s wet lashes and batting eyes.

“Come on,” he huffs, not even taking a huff of relief when you let the door open wider. Tensely, Chilchuck wraps his other hand around the bouquet as well, “It’s not like that, you know me better, don’t you? I just need to talk to you,” the wrap squeals again as he squeezes tighter, “I just want you to tell me where I went wrong.”

He’s playing to your big headedness, vying that he’s alone in the wrong. You know him better, most definitely, you know that as soon as you two sit down he’ll bring up the way in which you left. You deserve that much, don’t you? If you could change anything (given that what you can pick from is what was actually your fault), it would be the manner in how you left. You would’ve waited until he was home to tell him to his face.

(except that’s a lie, if you had waited then you would’ve let him sucker you with soft apologies and unfulfilling promises to change)

This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen him in years.

“She’s not coming into my home.”

Chilchuck nods, lips stretching fondly, “You’re so jealous.”

“She’s tall, and blonde! And pretty. And- !”

He cuts you off, tone just as soft as it was seconds ago, “And I’m not giving her flowers, am I?”

“Apology flowers,” you mutter, though sweeping the bouquet from his arms into yours. Skimming one of the soft petals under your thumb before gliding from one bob to the other and touching there, too. Turning toward the burning feeling of eyes on your back, you find Flertom’s blown out stare meeting yours.

Flertom holds both hands out silently, brows raised. Pushing in neither way, only offering to hold -- whether she holds you or the flowers is your decision. You choose the flowers. She giggles and waves you off, whispering to the flowers about what a lovely, empty vase she has just for them!

“We shouldn’t talk here,” you step out from Flertom’s home, “I don’t want to include our daughter in our troubles.”

“What a good mom,” he teases, waving off the elf as he steps down from Flertom’s porch, holding out a hand to assist you down as well. The remark has a new defiance bubbling beneath your skin.

“I can walk myself,” you bypass his offer.

“I know you can, but let me be nice.”

“You had lots of opportunities to be nice.”

A retort is trapped on the back of his tongue. Ultimately, he swallows it, and says nothing except to suggest a bar nearby, “That could be a good spot,” at your judgmental stare, he sputters, “For talking!”

“Right.”

Chilchuck has a favored tavern in Kahka Brud, the one where you told him you were pregnant with Puckpatti. He, very selflessly and pumped full of blind joy, bought a round for the patrons. It's not a particularly popular or nice place, there’s a lingering smell of mildew and the usual customers are lonely old men (basically: Chilchuck). And the door still creaks when he holds it open for you.

And the tables are just as wobbly when you sit there. Chilchuck tries in vain to mask the tipping by forcing it to one side by pressing his elbows down.

“So, what was she doing there?”

“She kept bugging me about my personal life, so,” he sighs, unsure how to explain himself without sounding out of his mind, “In short, I promised she could meet my family.”

“Pretty against your usual tough front.”

“Not tough,” he folds his arms now, hands on either bicep, still trying to keep the uneven table steady, “I just don’t think they have to know my business.”

“You realize how stupid you sound, right?”

“Oi,” a deep voice approaches from the other side of the bar, a man unfamiliar to both you and Chilchuck stands behind the counter, “We don’t serve kids here.”

Chilchuck groans, pointing at his ears without looking back at the man, then his eyes catch the way you’re prepared to hop down from your seat. He shakes his head, “Don’t move for this dumbass. If he can’t tell a tall-man kid from adult half-foots, he’s a fucking idiot.”

“I guess, but what if he just kicks you out for being a dick?” you glance at the bartender warily, trying to sense if he’s gearing up to throw you and Chilchuck out by force.

“I’m not worried about him,” Chilchuck leans forward, almost as if he can assert control over the situation by a meager height difference, “I’m here to talk to you.”

You’re unsure how to respond to that. It’s something you’ve always wanted to hear from him, but now that you have it feels unsatisfying. After four years of your sudden disappearance from his life, he’s finally given chase.

“Do you have any idea why I left?”

“Roughly,” he admits, voice quiet, eyes redirected to the table in shame, “I wasn’t there for you, right?”

“That’s a bit simplified. When you were on crawls, it felt like you being away for work felt the same as when you were home.”

“I wasn’t there for you,” he restates, nodding slowly, “So, that was it?”

His lack of tension hurts you more than you’re willing to admit. Enough that you temporarily forget that you wanted to make him feel the distance between you both.

“Chil…”

You revert to his first name.

“It’s okay, you can say it. That was it. You had enough.”

It goes unacknowledged, and that hurts all over again. It hurts so bad, you start to get angry that he even maintains such an effect on your heart.

“I didn’t want- it wasn’t- I’m…” you groan loudly, eyes clenching shut to avoid him, “That’s the problem, Chil,” his silence prods you on, “You think of me leaving as… as a ‘that’s it’ moment. Do you know how hard that was on me?”

“Leaving was hard on you? I came home to nothing that day! I thought you were just upset, maybe a little depressed, I didn’t think you were planning to leave me! I never thought you’d leave.”

“I told you. I told you why I was upset.”

“When?”

“I told you all the time!” before he can open his stupid mouth, you’re yelling again, “And if you knew I was so sad, then why didn’t you ask?! Did it never occur to you that I might need support? That I wanted my husband to talk to me about how I felt? That he should talk to me about how he feels?”

“I’m no good with emotional shit, you know that. When I’m upset I just feel uncomfortable spilling that onto others, I didn’t want to intrude.”

“We were married! Spouses are supposed to intrude!”

His shoulders droop, face falling like you said something genuinely devastating (but that can’t be, right? why would he be so upset about something he gave such little thought to?), “Were?”

“I was gone for four years before you came to see me, Chil,” you lay your head in your hands, “Four years before you looked for me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he whispers, “I asked Fler about you.”

“She never told me that.”

“I told her not to.”

Redundantly, you say, “I didn’t know that.”

“I thought you hated me,” Chilchuck draws a slow breath, it fills his whole chest before he lets it all out, “And for the first couple of months after Fler told me you were safe, I hated you, too. I was so mad that you didn’t even leave a note. I couldn’t eat or sleep, I was just… confused, and angry. I couldn’t work,” he swallows hesitation, “And the worst part was… I couldn’t talk about it because nobody knew you. Re-explaining it to people would just piss me off all over again.”

“Your old coworkers met me. And we grew up with Dandan.”

“I didn’t want to talk to Dandan,” he huffs petulantly, “I wanted to talk to my wife.”

So many feelings are bottled between you both; shaken up to a fizzy, bubbling mess about to explode from one of you. You fear it may be you. You almost crave for it to be him, though. You hate him. You miss him. You love him.

And you’re lying through your teeth, still, because you don’t hate him at all.

“Being with you, I felt so lonely.”

“I never took it seriously when you said I should open up more. I thought that because we were married that was enough and you’d be content to just be there,” he purses his lips, “I was wrong. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you reach across the table and pull one of his hands off his arm, lacing his fingers with yours, “I should’ve left a note. I’m sorry. You must’ve been worried sick.”

“I thought some bastards took you. Ran up and down the coast accusing everyone I could see of kidnapping,” he chuckles, although the ragged beat in his voice clues to you that the incident was not as lighthearted as he’s making it seem, “But when I found out the truth, I just thought you didn’t want to be found.”

“Because you wouldn’t want to be found, right?”

“Right.”

“But- !”

“You’re not me,” he squeezes your hand tight, you can feel the full warm softness of his palm without those gloves he pulls on for work, “You’re way different. You run away to prove points,” a bratty hey! follows, “You know yourself really well, and you’re good at being open. I’ve never been like that. I never knew how, it makes me uncomfortable. But you’re my,” he swallows, “You were my wife, I should’ve been comfortable being emotional with you. You shouldn’t have been in a position where me being home was the same as me being gone for days on end.”

“Thanks, Chil,” you smooth a thumb from his knuckle and along his index finger. You glance back up to his face. A sick nostalgia, or perhaps revived affections, rage up from your gut and overdriving your heartbeat. He’s more handsome than you remember.

He shrugs, studying your conjoined hands. As if it’s the last time he’ll see them like this.

It might be.

“What now?” you ask.

“Dunno,” he replies.

Is it pathetic if you ask to get back together? (YES)

“Want to meet my new coworkers?” he blurts, a vicious red overtaking his face.

This is a step. Where exactly, you’re completely in the dark, but it certainly is a step somewhere new.

“You’re seriously not with that elf, right?”

“Of course, not! What kind of person tries reuniting with their wife while bringing a new girlfriend along?”

“You really want that answer?”

“Oh, fuck you,” he snides, getting down from his chair and holding out a hand to help you down. This time, you take it, and leave his palm in yours as you both exit the bar, “By the way, my old boss is a king now.”

“What?” you gasp, spare hand flying down to smooth out your outfit, “Tell me we’re not going yet! I can look nicer than this!”

“You look pretty like this,” his eyes scrawl over your frame, “Not that it matters, right?”

“Why not?” you frown, “I should at least try to look my best in front of a king.”

“He’s just some guy,” he double-backs suddenly, shaking his head sternly, “I don’t even think he’s attracted to people, I think he’s into monsters. You shouldn’t waste your time.”

Oh!

You smile at your husband widely, “You’re jealous!”

“Not even a little. Why would I be?”

“Exactly,” you pull him into your side by your hand in his, “Why would you be?”

Is it pathetic for him to beg to renew your vows?

Yes.

Does he still plan to?

Yes.

…

“You have a wife?”

“Is that so surprising?” Chilchuck can’t help but preen at the shock, carding a hand through his hair like some pompous dork trying to act too cool for the attention, “Yeah, I’m a taken man.”

Clara, a blonde tallman he usually laughs at rather than with, pesters for more information, “What’s she like?”

Her curiosity makes his skin itch, so he shrugs and tries throwing out answers as fast as they come, “Kind of a space case, and clumsy. But it’s cute…” he scoffs when his party coos and ‘aww’s like he’s some kid talking about a crush rather than a grown man his wife, “She’s really caring, too, it made her a good mom,” Chilchuck clears his throat, if only to smother the sight of his broad grin with his hand, “She’s great.”

“We should meet her,” his black-haired cleric suggests suddenly, “She probably wants to know what group has her husband away from home so often. Hopefully she doesn’t hate us, huh?”

“No,” Chilchuck lowers his hand, still feeling a gentle giddy lap over him like sunlight at the thought of you, “She’s pretty understanding.”

~~~

+ and btw and fyi: i think it’d be cool if the dream was actually terrible and only appeared pleasant cuz laios saved chil, like how marcille remembered having a nice dream after being saves. like if the real dream was coming home from a long job to discover his family horribly murdered <3

#chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck angst #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #from.me.to.queue.🍅

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martian-astro · 7 days

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D9/ Navamsa chart observations - Part 6

Moon in 10th gives you a sassy (in a good way) father in law. Also, your spouse can be the best in their field. After marriage, you can be closer to your partner's family than your own. If you don't have a good relationship with your parents, then your partner's family will fill that void. (I know a gay guy with this placement and his husband was disowned by his family when he came out but my friend's family treat him as their own son. They have a really sweet relationship. I love this placement)

Rahu will either take away everything or give the best results related to the things of the house it's in. It really depends on it's dispositor. For ex- if rahu is in 5th, it can either give you a partner who is intelligent, creative, energetic, has a lot of hobbies, or it can give you a partner who drinks a lot, parties a lot, sleeps around, etc. it can also either give you a lot of kids or none at all.

Mercury in 9th gives you an intelligent spouse, they can also be a multilingual person. If you're a woman then your partner can have a little, teeny tiny tendency to mansplain, it's honestly like, they're so proud of their knowledge that they just wanna show how much they know, it can be a little annoying sometimes but nothing too serious. (I know a guy with this and his wife is so cute, she looks like a child every time she talks about her interests, you can tell how much she enjoys sharing her experiences and knowledge, it's kinda cute actually)

Venus in 7th is that placement that completely changes you after marriage, especially your fashion sense. it's because it aspects your 1st house, so definitely a huge change in personality, you can also get a glow up after marriage. Also, it can give a rich partner, kinda like a crazy rich Asians type situation. (I know a girl with this placement and she was so innocent before marriage, she wouldn't even wear revealing clothes and stuff but then after marriage, her mother in law basically threw out all her old clothes and got her new ones, I met her recently and BRO, she looked so different, so beautiful and she was wearing clothes that actually suit her body type and skin color. Also her mother in law is COOL AS FUCK, every time I look at her, I'm like, yeah, this is who I aspire to be like in the future) last point, you'll have a very loving marriage

Jupiter in 2nd is THAT placement. so many celebrities who are married to rich business men have this. I feel like this is one of the placements that just makes you very materialistic, like money is very important for you all, so you should marry someone who is just as materialistic. (I know people with this placement who don't get lonely or offended even when their spouses are workaholics, both you and your spouse think that money should take priority over any other matter) I'll be honest, your married life can be a little dry, but not if Jupiter is in a good sign

Sun in 9th is OFC another good placement. I haven't really seen this mentioned anywhere but this is like THE foreign spouse placement. all the people I know who have this, married someone who was not from their country. You'll also travel a lot after marriage. It gives you a really charming partner, like they can charm the pants off you. Also, the sexual tension is HIGH, Especially if sun is in Aries. There's also a high chance that you're an introvert but your spouse is not, so they can help you get out of your comfort zone

Saturn in 3rd can be such a calm and mature placement, it's like, you know how many men don't talk about the problems they face in a relationship, and then they start acting shitty and wait for the woman to break up. With this placement you get a responsible partner, someone who is willing to talk and meet halfway but you have got to match their energy yk. if you have a weak Mercury in d1, then this placement is not nice, cuz your communication skills are shit and they are TOO mature, so the moment you play games with them, they'll leave you. So work on yourself, is what I would say.

For ketu also, if the dispositor is well placed then you achieve balance in that area, but if not, then you feel detached. ( I know 2 people with ketu in 7th, one is so against marriage and she has extremely high standards, which tbh, are not even practical but the other one has high achievable standards. The funny thing is that the first one has always dated guys who were not good to her and the other has had zero dating experience cuz she's waiting for the right guy. So the detachment sometimes refers to "wrong attachment".

You all are not gonna like this but Jupiter in 7th is one of the STRONGEST indicators of getting married a lot of times. Jupiter in 1st as well, it's not that strong but chances are high. (Halley berrey, Jennifer Lopez, angelina jolie and Scarlett Johansson have it)

To end it on a good note, if you have mars in 5th, just know I'm jealous of you, cuz if there's one thing that you're not gonna lack in your marriage, it's sex. You guys will be those parents who kiss each other even you've been married for 35 years, you do that and then your kids go "ewww, you guys are so cringy" and run away. (Just make sure that mars is not conjunct or aspected by Saturn or rahu, Saturn gives no sex, rahu gives painful sex)

#astroblr #astrology #vedic astrology #astrology content #astrology community #astro observations #astrology observations #navamsa chart #d9 chart #astro community #astro notes #vedic astro notes #vedic observations

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hpdmguy · 1 month

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ways they show each other love !

loads of rambles + clutter-less version below the cut

the yellow lines highlighting things is actually marking (almost) everywhere they touch since the primary theme of this piece is physical affection! the stars were just for fun

top left (kissing): pretty self explanatory! fun fact, it was the first thing i drew for this piece :)

top middle (hand on back): i was trying to sleep the other night and my brain suddenly went. drarry physical affection and that was the first thing i pictured! i kind of imagined this one as like... dracos stressed or something and harry just puts a nice comforting hand on his back

top right: the good ol pinkie hand hold,, link, ,think. yeah. no real thoughts behind this one. it fit the box and its cute

middle left (speech bubbles): one thing i see a lot (im pretty sure this is ((implied in)) canon as well, but dracos a big yapper! so its kinda showing here that harrys just listening to all hes got to say. probably my favourite one of the lot, i had fun rendering it. (looking at this post i too am a yapper)

middle (orange slices): theres this thing where you peel an orange for the people you love. you can look at it either way; draco providing food for harry, knowing his childhood food insecurity and always wanting to make sure he has something, or harry (whose love language is acts of service) giving something to draco, maybe after a long day

watermarked middle (draco constellation): just some fun symbolism i thought i might try to fit in

middle right (legs): in this theyre just chilling. dracos reading (the book didnt come across well ((i cant draw hands very well)).

right edge (flowers): these are narcissus flowers, also known as daffodils. a reference to narcissa malfoy, and also a reference i suppose to how she saved harry in the forest, because draco was alive, because harry saved him in the room of requirement

bottom left edge (flowers): these are lilies. partly to complete the circle of mothers saving sons saving the world, and partly because i wanted to fill space. (theyre fucking terrible to draw tho i do not recommend)

bottom left (hand in hair): well harrys hair is very luxurious as you can see and i imagine during cuddles draco cards his hand through it and teases out snarls and such. (i know hair pulling is something that can be seen as sexual, this isnt that and it isnt meant to be that and please dont see it as that :(

bottom watermark (stag): harrys patronus because why not

bottom middle: so this is a bit obscure but theres this post by @/iamnmbr3 that talks about a headcanon that they can share wands and its kind of special and intimate. so thats what ive depicted here. also for funsies harry has the draco constellation on his arm. not the big dipper. also i cant draw the dark mark for shit

bottom right (shoes): just a subtle way they can touch, not always big. just under the table or sitting on the sofa together, just to feel the other person there.

i knew i wanted a warm scheme and i knew i wanted orange and blue to play a big part in this. i was going to have warm colours on blue and cool colours on orange as a sort of contrast but that didnt end up working out.. the wand scene is an attempt at it except i mixed it up and made it cool on cool, its so washed out and i didnt bother to fix it

#this is my pride and joy #my art #drarry #drarry art #draco malfoy #harry potter #hp art #i will never make anything cooler than this /j #rendering this was so fun !#anyways i hope this gets more attention than that other doodle i did .. i worked hard on this one #im yapping too much its 3am time for me to eep. send post #made in csp #time taken: like 4 hours? idrk

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lazycats-stuff · 9 months

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Can you do a teen reader (younger than Damian by 1 or 2 years) x batfam, where he is spider man? (I mean kinda like miles morales, he has electricity powers but his webs are organic too and doesn’t need a web shooters.) he is Bruce’s biological child and his mother died, yk his canon event and what not. So he has to move to Gotham and isn’t happy about. Just distant and all. One night He sneaked out and bought a train ticket and went to New York, and was only spider man and just slept in somewhere. So the batfamily tracked him to New York, and while looking for him, they bump into him as spider man. They have to team up to find a villian but reafer gets hurt in the end and his mask fell off and they see it’s reader? They bring him and just have a talk when he wakes up and they come to conclusion for him to join the family in their fighting in Gotham?

Oh, that sounds good. Yes... Also, 2.7k words and so sorry for taking so long to write this... Hope you enjoy. I changed it a little bit, so my apologies, but I got into my writing spirit lol.

Summary: (Y/N) is Spiderman. The fam doesn't know that.

Warnings: (Y/N)'s mom passes away, funeral, sad (Y/N), he loves his city, angst, running away, fighting with Green Goblin.

(Y/N) had a great life in New York. He was very happy in his city. He lived with his mom and everything was fine. Okay, he did get bitten by a radioactive spider and got cool powers with it. Did it cause some troubles? Oh yeah. Electricity was a bit problematic to control, but he managed.

Did he get grounded because of it? His mom sure thought so. His dad visited with the rest of his brothers every month. (Y/N) understood why he couldn't come more. Being a CEO and all that stuff, (Y/N) really understood. He didn't love Bruce any less. Bruce was involved in his life, which was nice.

He loved his brothers and father, more than anything in this world. Alfred was the best though. Whenever he came, he would bring his food and (Y/N) and his mom would enjoy it too, often asking for recipes. Or they would exchange recipes.

All of those were very fun times. And his time as Spiderman. He really loved it. He loved patrolling and helping the people and maybe get a hot dog from the stands that worked through the night. He loved it all. It was nice that his webs were natural and they, like mentioned before, they also came with electricity.

His enemies hated him, but (Y/N) loved being Spiderman. He loved what he represented in New York and he wouldn't change it for anything in the world. He is a New Yorker through and through.

But life decided to be a bitch and strike that luck and happiness.

(Y/N)'s mom passed away. She was hit by a drunk driver. The worst thing is, the driver survived. When Bruce got the news, he got into the car and drove to New York. (Y/N) was told just before Bruce came and (Y/N) felt his soul shatter.

He broke down in Bruce's arms, crying and screaming. It took him a while to calm down, but he couldn't stay alone. Bruce knew that and he knew that going back to Gotham was not an option now. At all. Bruce called Alfred and explained everything and told him that he would stay to arrange the funeral.

Alfred understood and the brother called (Y/N), wishing that they could be there. (Y/N) thanked them for it and then sat up all night, unable to sleep. Bruce tried to comfort him in the best way possible, but it was difficult. Bruce's former fling, (Y/N)'s mom, was the most important person to (Y/N). Without a doubt.

Bruce knew that he would have to bury her in New York, otherwise his son would have raised hell. Without a doubt. After funeral, (Y/N) would have to move to Gotham. Which is another problem on its own. Bruce didn't know that (Y/N) was Spiderman and (Y/N) didn't know that Bruce was Batman.

Match made in hell, so to say.

The funeral was held a few days after the incident and (Y/N) thought that New York cried with him. The sky was dark and the rain was falling. (Y/N) was torn. There were way to many people who were saying sorry and while he appreciated the care and worry, he just wanted to say goodbye on his own.

His brothers have stood it with him. (Y/N) didn't even have the courage to be next to the grave, while they lowered it, but Bruce held him hand through it, keeping him close to him during the entire process.

At the end, he found some strength and came closer, allowing the rain to soak him. It felt appropriate. When she was lowered, (Y/N) threw a rose in there and wiped his eyes. He took a deep breath as they started putting dirt over her coffin and (Y/N) never felt so mad. Why did this happen to him? To him out of all people?!

Bruce recognized that look in (Y/N)'s eyes. He knew that rage, sadness and frustration in his eyes. It was going to be difficult to let go and have a new life in Gotham. But (Y/N) had to try. He had to put some effort.

" (Y/N), we have to go. " Bruce said gently as he shielded his son from the rain with an umbrella. (Y/N) kept looking as the coffin got buried under the dirt. He swallowed before nodding and following Bruce to the car.

" Why do I have to go to Gotham? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce sighed as he started driving.

" We have been over this. I have a company there and your brothers are there. I know you don't want to leave, I know that, but you have no choice. " Bruce explained as he drove and (Y/N) turned away from him, biting down on his tongue so that he wouldn't lash out against Bruce.

" I know you are not happy, but you will be happy in Gotham. "

" Sure. In a city ran by a clown and a bat. Sounds like heaven. " (Y/N) said sarcastically.

" It's actually a nice city once you live in it long enough. "

(Y/N) huffed, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to lash out at his father, he really didn't. His dad was doing something he needed and Bruce wasn't at fault.

It was the driver's fault.

But he was pissed and he just wanted to be alone. Bruce saw it and didn't say anything, driving back to Gotham. It was the most awkward drive Bruce has ever done in his life. The hour was quiet and once they parked in the yard of the manor, (Y/N) took a bag with his personal stuff, his Spiderman suit included, and made a beeline for his room.

He ran past everybody and they all looked at him with sad looks.

" Do you think he will be better soon? " Dick asked, glancing at Bruce.

" I don't know Dick. He is sensitive and he will need some time to process it. I don't think I can even introduce him to our line of work. He found justice, they got the driver. " Bruce said as he rubbed his chin and the boys had to agree to a certain agree.

" He just needs some time. The first few days are the toughest. He will get better as times passes. " Alfred said as he took one of the boxes out.

Those few days have passed and (Y/N) didn't really feel good. He didn't like the fact he is starting a new school year here, without his friends and a sense of familiarity. He would have to start a new, without... He cried a lot during the time and he just wore black. Alfred had to make sure he ate and Bruce was there to comfort him and make sure he is okay.

Another thing that was painful, alongside his mother's death was the fact that he couldn't be Spiderman. He couldn't go out, he couldn't save his fellow New Yorkers or chat with them. He saw the news talking about his absence and he wanted nothing more than to go back to New York.

Nothing more.

But... There is a problem called big brothers plus a dad.

They were always around, watching him. Always popping in his room to make sure he is okay and not hungry, knowing that eating wasn't easy. Everyone popped in to make sure he is okay. (Y/N) was sure they thought he would hurt himself somehow, but he wasn't doing that.

He would often sit down in his room, when he knew that his family was on patrol, he would take his suit out. He would watch the spider symbol, wishing he could be back in New York. Gotham was nothing compared to New York. New York was much better, still is better than this city. New York is alive, vibrant, full of colors.

And then you have Gotham.

But (Y/N) has had enough after 2 weeks. With a little bit sneaking around, he managed to buy a ticket, his suit underneath the normal clothes he was wearing. While his family was on patrol, he sneaked out and made his way to the station to leave. He was happy, but it was bitter sweet. It would remind him of the things he loved and yet... It would remind him of his mother.

He had actually had some money left for a few flowers to lay on her grave... (Y/N) put his head on the window, watching the scenery change. Left his phone at home so that they couldn't track him, so he spent his time looking out the window and stretching.

After a few hours, (Y/N) has arrived. He smiled as he saw his city. He took a deep breath in and walked around, just remembering the time in his city.

" My apologies New York. " (Y/N) mumbled as he started walking to the cemetery. It would be a long walk, but he had time. He really did. Once he came, the flower shop was open and he has paid with cash, making it difficult to track him. After getting a beautiful bouquet he walked to his mom's grave. He put them down and smiled...

Bittersweet beyond belief.

He kept knelt down on one knee, smiling at the gravestone. He smiled and wiped some of his tears away, not wanting to cry.

" Hey mom. I'm back. Dad wanted me to move, but I think I will stay here. " (Y/N) said as he got up and started walking to his apartment. He missed it, he really did. He could only hope that it's unlocked, but his neighbor had an extra key. He knew it.

And she loved him.

While (Y/N) was happy, the family wasn't really paying attention whether or not (Y/N) was in his room. They were thinking that he has slept. They couldn't have been more wrong about it. (Y/N) already had a whole night ahead of him as an advantage.

Alfred went to check and a few minutes later and he called out for Bruce in a panic. Everyone dropped the cutlery and ran upstairs to see if their butler was safe. Jason and Tim nearly tumbled over one another more than once. Damian jumped in first, ready to fight with the non existent intruder.

They were all shocked to see that there was no intruder. Another problem? There was no (Y/N). Jason checked the bathroom.

" Not in here. " He declared, closing the door.

Bruce wondered what the hell happened. Oh no. Where is he?

" Did anyone see him? " Bruce asked his sons, leaning on the wall.

" No... I thought he was in here. " Tim said as he looked out the window. " Where is he even? " Tim wondered. Bruce pondered for a moment.

" Lets go to the cave and check the cameras. " Bruce said as he pushed himself off of the wall. Everyone followed and soon, they were looking through the cameras.

They all paled when they saw that he went to the city. Bruce pulled all of the cameras he could and thanked God for facial recognition. He pulled it all to find (Y/N).

" Why did he escape? " Dick wondered out aloud. Was it the fact that they were checking on him too much? Was he smothered? Did they smother him?

" Shit. " Jason said next to Bruce as the two watched the screen. Everyone turned their heads to look at the screen. A train station. Bruce connected it.

" He went to New York. " Bruce said as he tracked (Y/N)'s phone.

" What the hell? " Tim wondered out loud.

Everyone frowned when the location turned out to be the manor. Everyone was now worried.

" He has to be in New York. He has to be. " Damian declared and everyone had to agree with it. They knew that (Y/N) coming here wasn't his choice and that he wanted to stay back in New York. Bruce couldn't blame (Y/N) for any of it, nobody could blame (Y/N) for trying to run to New York.

" He has an entire night as an advantage. " Damian said and everyone has agreed with him. That is one hell of an advantage.

" I'm not sure whether or not to be proud. " Bruce said, trying not to smile.

" A mixture of both. He passed the security. " Jason mumbled and Bruce chuckled.

" Yeah, I have to be a mixture of both. Lets do some more investigating and then lets go to New York at night. " Bruce said and everyone nodded.

(Y/N) has had fun during the day, but it seems that Green Goblin wasn't happy with the fact that he was gone out of their city. The fight has been going on for a while and (Y/N) was slowly getting exhausted. Ever so slowly.

(Y/N) knew that he couldn't lose his cool now. That's something that Green Goblin wanted him to do this entire fight. Green Goblin was taunting him and by God, (Y/N) was ready to kill. His wrists were hurting like never before.

He was ready to strike once more when he saw a familiar face. His dad and his brothers. Oh God. Were they all looking for him. They landed near him and (Y/N) swore that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He really thought so.

" Hey Spidey, you need help? " Dick, well, Nightwing asked and (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders. " Could use some backup. " (Y/N) said, voice breathy.

" Arch nemesis? " Damian, well, Robin asked.

" Yup. "

" Sounds tough. " Dick said and (Y/N) got ready to strike once more. He saw an opening and took it.

(Y/N) was struck and he flew back onto the rooftop and something fell of as he landed. He couldn't pinpoint it, but every part of him screamed that something was wrong. He froze when he saw his father, covering them both with his big cape.

" (Y/N), why didn't you tell us? Is this why you didn't want to leave? " Bruce asked, glancing at his son, trying to see if he was injured.

" I... I didn't know how to... " (Y/N) admitted shyly, looking away from his dad.

" I'm not blaming you. But we have to talk about this later. We can't just leave it like this. Put on your mask and lets finish this. " Bruce said with a firm voice and (Y/N) nodded as he did so and with the help from Bruce, got up.

" Lets get the bastard. " (Y/N) said with so much determination and Bruce smiled proudly. He really is his son with that much determination.

The fight was tiring beyond belief, but the Batfamily was determined and persistent. And Green Goblin wasn't expecting the back up that (Y/N) has gotten out of nowhere. Soon, Green Goblin was taken into custody. Now it was all good. All good.

If you remember that (Y/N)'s family was still there, waiting to talk to him. He didn't really want to talk, he just wanted to avoid it. He didn't want to. By God, he wanted to go to sleep. But he knew that talk would happen eventually.

" Now, " Bruce started as he glanced at everyone. " I'm not mad you, but... You could have told us. We told you. " (Y/N) tried to say something, but Bruce stopped him. " Now, what happened happened. However, you can use your talents back in Gotham. "

(Y/N) shifted on his feet, nervous about it.

" No need to worry (Y/N). " Jason started, hands on his hips. " NYPD is more capable than GCPD. "

Everyone laughed at it. To some extent it's true, but (Y/N) wasn't convinced.

" You don't have to lose your Spider symbol. You can keep being Spiderman. You can be a spider and the rest can be birds. " Bruce said as he put his hand on (Y/N) shoulder.

" It's difficult to leave my city behind. " (Y/N) admitted and Bruce nodded in sympathy. The brothers hugged their brother, hugging him tightly.

They all were saying something, but (Y/N) couldn't understand. But he knew that they were all saying something positive.

" Now, lets go home and get you situated. " Bruce said and (Y/N) just looked at the sun.

" It weird to see you guys in this time of the day. " (Y/N) mumbled as he was led to the Batmobile. Everyone laughed at that. It was true. He really didn't want to leave New York city, but he knew that he could help them in Gotham.

He knew it would work out in the end.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #nightwing x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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famemonsterrr · 1 year

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Astrology observations part 7 🪽

- I have said Leo are selfish but I have to mention how awfully selfish is 1st house sun or Aries rising are.

- Cancer sun with Taurus Venus is something I don’t see often but they are beautiful and caring individuals that give the best presents ever. (Ex: Ariana grande)

I have also noticed that cancer with earth placements tend to like softer aesthetics and colours. Like white and pastels ✨

- cancer with Leo Venus/mars makes someone really need for word affirmations. " you are amazing" "you are so talented".

- between the fire signs Leo and Aries would come from each others throats. Sagittarius is planning a trip or joining in new cult.

- Aquarius moon might have issue with bossy mothers.

- Pisces mothers either will be amazing and sooo caring or they will be emotionally needy and put pressure on their kids.

- mutable signs or air dominant people have learning difficulties (my dad and mom are Gemini and both have dyslexia. I got it as well💅🏻 ofc it’s genetics but It’s not coincidence I’m Pisces and I’m air dominant)

- Leo placements watch theirs own stories or whatever they upload like they are in love with themselves. Their own stalkers 💀

- north node in Gemini will always be students in life…(yayyyyyyy that’s what we want)

- Aquarius with Leo placements….nooooooooo just nooooo. God complex is real and it is Aquarius with Leo placements and vice versa. Cool people but u always right no matter what because you are better that anyone else 🙂

- if your lover has Venus or mars in the 8th house be prepared to have a good spicy time. The difference is that Venus is so passionate naturally and loves spicy time. However on mars to have a good bed time u kinda have to be a little bit toxic and turn them on. Make them jealous is an easy solution. Usually 8th house attracts a lot of toxicity or "passionate" energy.

- 2nd house Venus…OHHHH sooo sexyyyyyyyy. Candles,dinners and flowers. If you see a man having Venus on that house. KEEP HIMMMM

- Pisces suns just don’t get along with other Pisces sun. PERIOD

- Pisces sun with Aries mercury are baddies now Aries sun with Pisces mercury is a softie.

- water placements seem to love winter more than anything.

- if u have fire placements u would had gone or u are still are in ur ginger/red hair era.

- to all my Capricorn stelliums…are okay my loves? Maybe relax a bit. You are doing amazing 🥰

- to all my beautiful Chiron in cancer pliz go and heal in ur own space and the ways u only know. Maybe spend time with ur family and friends.

- Mc in Taurus means u will succeed no matter what in any field ur in. Maybe a little lazy but u need money and stability so when u feel u don’t have it u will work. Probably in business field or singing. People with placements have beautiful voices naturally as well

- Leo, libra, Virgo and Taurus are the type of people who will use ur own personal style as an insult and it’s sooo funny but I can’t go that far because I’m broke.

Thats all 🪽

This was so short lol but I need to remember you again that personal observations aren’t facts and because you can’t relate that doesn’t mean I ain’t accurate or u aren’t. Everyone has different experiences and life. So yeah astrology isn’t a fact at all. Anyway stay healthy and hydrated girly pops 💅🏻

#astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations #fire signs #water signs #earth signs #air signs #natal chart

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fluff-n-cookies · 4 months

Note

Randomly off the bat Dabi, Shigaraki and Spinner (separately) With a quirkless girlfriend Who has an Ex that wants to get back with her, BUT……. The ex turns that “HE BROKE UP WITH HER” because she “had no quirk” and that she was “useless to him”

(Those are the quotes she says to them while telling them the short version of the story) Dabi, Shigaraki, Spinner, deals with the situation themselves.

(I love those boys😍 and I thought it be a good idea story for you, so go crazy and have fun with it😅)

Okay, girlie, while I love the fact that you're sharing this stuff with me, I don't think you read this. the yellow paragraph. I hope you send this request to some other writers, @honeybubblebeeeeee is one of my personal favs. I do however like the idea of a reader having no quirk and being abandoned because of it, so I'll put a platonic spin on it.

AND I ALSO DON"T WRITE FOR SPINNER SORRY!!!

Reader was abandoned by their family after being born to a quirk marriage meant to provide children with strong quirks only for their first child to have no quirk. not wanting their reputation destroyed they abandoned our dear reader at 5 leaving her in an orphanage and a note to near come find them less they wanted a bounty on their head. (reader is now 16)

Dabi likes children, he likes how they have this innocent aura, he likes that they, hopefully, have not gone through the horrors he has. Hopefully. On the other hand, he hates quirk marriages, he hates hero's, in fact, I'd even say he hates fathers in general.

To tell Dabi that your relationship with your father or your mother is bad is to get them at the top of his hit list, VIP shit. Endeavor is just a couple seconds behind them.

but what hurts him more, what hurts him the most is if you actually believe them, if you push yourself through hand to hand combat, sniping, and other such practices not for the sake of improving yourself but to prove to them (not that they care) that you are not useless.

Oh how it pains him, to wake up in the dead of night to see your tear stricken face as you berate a poor punching bag to death on the roof. The wind is cool as you swing, and swing again. It's as if you dance for the stars of the night and the stars alone with not a thought for the trees or the mountains. Only ever the stars.

The sting hurts, the impact of thinly wrapped fists against a leathery wall, but that anger that drains with it is enough to make the pain worth it, is it not?

That anger you feel, is an anger that Touya knows all too well. The type of anger that makes one want to yell of the heavens, yell that they are not a sinner despite being imprisoned in hell. He’ll watch as you swing with fury, fury of not being enough, fury of being thrown away like trash.

one man's trash is another's treasure though, right?

In that case, you're Touya's most darling treasure. Oh the urge to hold you close and tell you everything's going to be okay, as he pets your head, whispering promises of vengeance on your behalf. To give you a reason to smile.

Oh, it's strong.

Oh, the blood he's shed for you.

he won't say anything, if you see him get you water after you nearly faint from mental and physical exhaustion, no you didn't. if you saw him undo the bandages on your arms from training and replace them with new fresh ones, you're delusional. If you saw him stalking your family's socials and calling someone to leak their crimes, shhh, don't tell.

----

"I mean, yeah, you kinda are."

Was his genuine first thought.

I mean, what do you want him to say? that your quirk doesn't determine your worth, like what?

and darling, when I say correct him, I mean correct him, please correct him. Please look dead into his eyes and say "I'm not useless!". for when I say it will escalate, trust me it will Escalate.

this boy has never had a true friend, and on top of that, he was teased as a child for, well being him. So the moment he gets a friend, his heart will swell, for once he feels cherished, and my poor boy, he doesn't show it correctly.

he's just so happy to finally have someone to talk to and joke around with, but doesn't realize just yet what is a joke and what is not. so he'll keep pushing it, it supposedly is an "inside joke" so he'll keep doing it.

So please correct him! tell him that it hurts, and tell him lightly to not risk breaking his heart.

Because he wants to make you happy, he can't stand the fact that you go quiet whenever he calls you quirkless, and that you're progressively distancing yourself more and more. And believe me when I say, it's painful for the both of you.

Please be his friend, and please let him make you happy correctly, you are just so perfect, we can't have such a perfect thing so sad now can we?

---

yeah, done admist some weird shit, and did I mention that I'm a horrible writer?

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bonebabbles · 20 days

Text

Ivypool's Heart: Finished

Just completed reading the new super edition! I'm pleasantly surprised by this one. Overall, this was a very good book, MUCH better than the past 3 which were some of the most boring and unnecessary entries to the entire franchise.

If you were on the fence about this one, I'd recommend it. Just take this warning; it does the Warrior Cats thing where it harps pretty strong on parenthood and nuclear families being a borderline essential part of life, including a ton of bashing on how uniquely horrible this makes the Sisters.

If you can get past that, it's a pretty solid story about grief that makes some really fun additions to the WC lore, including the wildcats, StormClan, and a broad expansion to the afterlife system.

Meandering thoughts below the cut;

One of IPH's biggest flaws is pacing, but it's not nearly as bad as the past 3 SEs.

Not to mention, this is a pretty small SE. If you're ever bored, it won't last long.

Before the book introduces the Wildcats, it REALLY meanders. It'll pick up, but you will have to wade through relatively uninteresting scenes of the cats traveling and talking about their feelings unprompted.

A lot of "quicktime events" happen out of nowhere to fill pages with cats running away from random bullshit.

There's a horse carriage, an apple picker, dogs, weasels, foxes, a storm, traffic, humans, boats, sandwhiches. It's endless. My eyes glazed over during most of these scenes.

I know a lot of people were dreading Ivypool being nasty and unreasonable during this book, but honestly? I was hoping for it and didn't really receive it.

I find her most compelling when she's holding a grudge, acting on her anger, and generally working through messy issues. But aside from her just thinking about being annoyed or angry, she's really not snappy at all.

I feel like there could have been a lot more interesting and organic conflict between Icewing, Dovewing, and Ivypool's personalities instead of boring Quicktime Events. In fact, I felt like Icewing and Dovewing were kind of underutilized.

The conversations often feel quite stiff, especially in the first half. Everyone is very understanding of each other, respect boundaries and knows not to push too far, resolve their personal issues very easily, etc. It's kinda... unnatural.

Personally, I found that disappointing because I WANTED to see the cats actually process their grief over the course of the book. Watch them act out, maybe get in an fight or two and resolve it for the sake of the mission, have them come to a greater understanding of each other, etc.

Because Icewing and Dovewing are both so motherly and gentle and we're in Ivypool's POV, we don't really get to see them process their grief because of that.

They're not TOTALLY neglected though! I just... wanted more from this group.

However. I wanted LESS Rootspring.

I understand he's there to process the loss of Bristlefrost with Ivypool but god, every time he was on screen I wanted to push him aside and talk to Icewing lmao.

Stop trying to sell me "cool, mellowed from grief" Rootspring. He's a silly little hyperactive man and you will never be able to convince me otherwise.

As a silly little hyperactive semi-manthing myself, it would have been a lot more cathartic to see a clown like me going through grief. Not to mention just generally make for better chemistry with the group.

Between Ice and Dove who are already quite chill as characters, Whistle could have used someone more goofy to bounce off of.

I REALLY didn't like the whole implication that Rootspring is going to move on from Bristlefrost and "find a mother" for the kittens he wants so badly, though.

Erins PLEASE remember that adoption exists. He does not need a wife to be a dad. I'm beaming myself directly into your brains and telepathy-ing directions to the nearest cat adoption agency

aaaaaand on that note.... yeah. I did not like the way that this book leaned so hard on the whole "nuclear family" dynamic. Ivypool has had like two major interactions with her husband and one JUST happened in this book.

It especially bugged me that they leaned into Ivypool having been a very active mother, when we saw very little of that in the ACTUAL book. It wasn't even mentioned that Fernsong was allegedly the primary parent of the kittens when they were young.

But... I was able to look past it and just accept the book in a vacuum. There's a lot of good here.

Like the wildcats.

While I'm still wary of these being Scottish Wildcats and reserve my misgivings about the misuse of species that are very unlike domestic cats... I LOOOOVEEE the culture they've set up for them

I LOVEE the way that individual spirits reach out to the kits, guiding them through life

I LOVE the connection to StormClan

I LOVE their idea of the elements and general spirituality

And I LOVED the fact that a big part of Ivypool coming to terms with her grief was the expansion of her worldview. The way that she realized the religion she was raised with is quite small, and that there is an immense beauty in coming to understand other cultures, accept their advice, and see the world as they do.

I just wish the book had been able to tie that to a flaw that Ivypool has expressed since her very introduction back in OotS-- that she's smallminded.

It would have been a FANTASTIC way to really tackle and address that flaw, and pay off literal decades of set up. I really wish she had been messier in this book because of that!

But, digressing.

I'm over the moon that the team's actually playing with the series' spirituality! After such a long time of them outright avoiding some of the weirder elements in the series, like Rock and Midnight, it's exciting that they're finding some freedom in making new magic lore for themselves.

Hopefully, in the next few super editions, we'll be able to get some more insight to StormClan and the Wildcats.

The book really hits its stride in the second half because of this, and the ending chapters are actually fantastic. Some of the best stuff that's come out of the series (on purpose) in a loooong time.

#bones reads iph #Ivypool's Heart Spoilers #And with that... I must now consider what to keep for BB and what to not.

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melonpiemelon · 1 year

Text

STARB⟡Y

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

summary: After a sweet little coffee date, Miguel takes reader back to their place to bang it out

warnings: 18+, smut, afab reader, no use of y/n, p in v, breeding kink, biting, kinda rough sex, horny Miguel

Pls correct me if the Spanish is dumb

Read on ao3

_________________________________

A slow wave of cool air breezes through the city, pushing past the crowds of people and strangers lingering on the sidewalk. You feel a chill run through your neck as the wind brushes your shoulders and seeps into your skin. The shadow underneath your feet fades away and blends into the steps outside the courthouse that you were standing on.

Your neck bends as you roll your shoulders back, looking up at the sky to notice gray clouds gathering together in the sky when you stretch out your back.

For the last three hours you’ve been sitting on a stale plastic chair listening but not really listening in on the mock trial you were asked to oversee when the representative defense attorney couldn’t show up.

It was a really simple ass case but you’ll never get those three hours of your life back. It started out as a quick trip to the office to send in the terms and conditions or whatever the fuck they’re called that lays out the details and consent forms of the next deal you’ll be doing with your client, to a mind numbingly long sit through of a liability case due to another fucking avenger absolutely demolishing some property. Fuck doing favors and fuck the avengers.

Maybe you should’ve taken Miguel up on his proposal of just dropping that shit off in the mail and skipping that meeting with your superior. Now you were drained of energy for the rest of the day and had the worst case of the munchies. Pregnancy wrecked your palate but at least you don’t crave weird shit like peanut butter on cucumbers.

You moaned to yourself after coming to terms with the fact you’ll have to drive again. Driving also took energy. That you don’t have. If you didn’t have to at least try looking like a normal human you would use your webs to swing through these streets and plop your ass down on someone’s comfy rooftop couch, but unfortunately for you, there was still the issue of keeping up public appearances.

Pretty ironic how you were a lawyer who broke the law everyday because of your work as a vigilante but honestly you weren’t one to care about the law unless it was able to be used to protect other people.

Walking out into the streets was always nerve wracking. You clutched the leather satchel at your side and put on your best “don’t fuck with me” face that always made strangers stay in their lane. It’s not that you were worried about someone mugging you or something (you could easily handle it), you just didn’t want to waste any more time. And New York often seemed to have at least one of those mother fuckers throughout the day that tried some bullshit.

Luckily for you, when you reached your car nothing was amiss and no one almost got robbed. It’s like the universe was rewarding you for the hard work it just put you through.

You opened the door to your green Mercedes Benz and sat down with a little shake. You felt like you could finally breathe for a second. All your work was done and after today you had two more free days to yourself. It was amazing. The thought of your upcoming date with Miguel sent butterflies to your stomach and you had to physically restrain yourself from squealing.

You checked the watch on your wrist that every person from the spider society also has, and went to see if you had any messages from your lover.

From: Miguel

Meet you at the coffee shop you like?

Whenever you’re done of course.

Your cheeks burned from the stretch of how hard you were smiling. He could read you like a book, and that coffee shop, your favorite coffee shop, had exactly the things you were craving and you jumped at the chance to eat there every time.

From: You

Yeah just got done!

See you there in 20? :))

From: Miguel

On My Way!

From: You

Miguel’s autocorrect made you chuckle a little after he sent his text. You checked your mirror and blind spots to make sure there wasn’t anyone around before you backed out of the parking spot.

It was a nice drive to the coffee shop that was located not too far away from your home. Definitely not walking distance but spiderwoman doesn’t need to walk anyways. It was perfect. It was vegan friendly, lgbtq owned, and poc owned. Pretty much couldn’t ask for more.

Oh wait you can.

This quaint shop also had cats. Fucking cats. It was a goddamn cat cafe. Customers were allowed to pet the lil kitties when they came to them and sometimes able to feed them. Yeah they were a bit fat but these cats were adorable as all hell. And Miguel loves cats. Whether he’ll admit it or not. They are similar in some ways.

At home it’s always funny to see him interacting with your black sphinx cause they have a love-hate relationship with one another. Sometimes they’ll cuddle but then Vader will give Miguel the hardest death glare when he steals all the attention from you. Miguel is no different though. He pouts when you ignore him to love up on your cat.

The cafe is also a fond reminder of the bond you two share as well. The first time an anomaly entered your world it made a mess of the block and the cafe got turned upside down due to the glitches. But the overwhelming amount of pressure that was on your shoulders got lifted by his appearance. He came barreling through his unknown portal and instantly got to work repressing the threat and fixing the timeline of what you soon would come to learn as “canon”. Upon seeing another person just like you, the connection was immediate. He looked at you through his dark blue and red mask and didn’t even have to ask the question. You were going with him, high on your admiration and enthusiasm for a new adventure. The two of you stood in front of the cafe and didn’t look back.

When you walked in you were greeted by a familiar face. You were a regular so the person at the register was elated to see you and welcomed you back with a smile then winked and pointed in the direction of the nearest window seat. There you saw Miguel, lost in thought while peering into the outside, looking magnificent as fuck in the style of your world. He had on a loose black button down with sleeves coming to his elbows and a collar that hung low and exposed the fine expanse of his chest. His pants were some pale blue denim jeans with a black belt that fit snug but wrapped around his waist perfectly and made you drool dreaming about what his ass looked like from behind. Fuck you’d have to praise Lyla later for equipping him in this slutty ass outfit.

Someone behind you coughed accusingly and you got pulled out of the mythical sight of your lover and went back to ordering a quick raspberry ice tea. Honestly you weren’t phased from being called out for your gawking, it just pissed you off that no one else seemed to care about his absolute beauty. Like, if you weren’t already dating him you are certain that you wouldn’t be able to keep your eyes off him. But it’s not surprising that no one else seemed to care, considering the people who frequent this shop, and not gonna lie, the only ones who can afford it, are stuck up arrogant motherfuckers who probably visit their plastic surgeons more often than their mothers.

After you got your large drink you beelined to where he was sitting, thank god he chose a booth, and slid right up beside him, basically leaving no space between you two. It was weird how he didn’t notice you yet and the look of surprise on his face when you wrapped your arm around his and leaned on him, had you giggling.

“Hola, no te vi entrar. When did you get here?” He takes his arms from your hold and places it on your waist, pulling you in closer so he can kiss your forehead.

“Not too long ago.” You lay your weight on his chest, molding softly against his hard body. “How long were you waiting for me?” His fingers fidget with the belt loops around your waist, abstimindely keeping you within his touch. His other hand sat atop the table, holding a warm coffee cup.

“Only for a couple of minutes.”

“You seemed like you were in your own world when I walked in. What were you thinking about?” Your eyes meet his brown ones, the same eyes that looked at you with so much love last night, right now are shining with an even stronger passion.

“Us.”

“Oh yeah? Was Lyla too much for you today? Aww did you miss me?”

“No eres mejor que ella, pero…sí. I did miss you.” He turns and looks away to hide the faint blush that was growing on his face. You laugh and put your hands on his cheek, moving him back so you can make eye contact with him.

“Hey it’s alright, between the two of us, I think we both had a pretty exhausting day.” You softly pressed your lips to the side of his mouth and the faint scent of coffee made its way into your nostrils. He grabs a hold on one of your hands and squeezes it. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He takes a shortened breath in when you kiss him and before you could break the moment, he’s using his large hand to hold your neck and tilt your chin up to fully embrace his mouth over yours. You easily melt against him and he further entices you to keep moving against him, his lips pushing all the way against yours and his tongue prodding gently at the entrance into your mouth. You accept him instantly and the taste of the sweetener he used in his coffee dances on your taste buds when your tongues meet and tangle with each other. He was consuming you with his fervor and you disregarded the fact you couldn’t breathe. The feeling of affection that coursed through your veins heightened when he pulled away and traced your swollen and plump lips with his thumb. He looked down at you with hooded eyes and ran his tongue over his fangs that were retracted. You felt a rush of excitement at the sight and pulled him in for another kiss to drown in. He didn’t hesitate to engulf you once again but you noticed he was holding himself back to not knick you with the sharpness of his fangs. This made you smirk into the kiss and gently take his bottom lip with your teeth and wrap your hands around his neck and trail your fingers at the base of his hairline. He groaned into your mouth and pulled back to let you get some air.

“Mierda, you make me lose control so easily.” He whispered into your mouth and gave you another kiss on your lips. Finalizing the moment when he pulled away and ran his finger down the side of your face and he pressed his forehead against yours. His shoulders raised as he inhaled your scent, grounding himself in the present moment. His eyes closed, trying to take in all that he could sense, especially the part of your signature that had the same flowery essence of your guys daughter.

“Did you eat anything yet?” You ask him when his eyes open back up to regard you with adoration.

He shakes his head. And you smile and take out your wallet.

“Imma go get a sandwich or something. Want anything?”

He glances over to the menu for a moment, then returns to you with a nod. “Mm I’ll try the chickpea Buddha bowl.”

“Kay, I’ll be back in a bit. Te amo!” You give his thigh a squeeze and slip out the booth with a warm smile to get back in line.

He watches intensely at you from behind while you walk away, looking at your full hips and legs as they move gracefully from one place to the next. Testing himself to see how long he can stare at your ass before getting called a creep. It all makes his hands clench into fists. The flavor of your tea still sat in his mouth after your kisses, and he shamefully thought of something else that would taste sweet on his tongue right now.

He needed you so bad and it was taking all of his willpower to hold back from popping a semi. He was so focused in the process of directing his blood anywhere else that he forgot about how that would look to others. So when you returned with the food and an eyebrow raised he was speechless.

“The fuck you looking like that for?” You laugh and sit right next to him again. On the tray you had a blt avocado melt with some chips, and the bowl right next to it. You handed his food over with the silverware and he shoved a bite into his mouth pretty quickly to avoid saying anything. “Lookin like you're about to shit yourself.”

He narrows his eyes at you and takes another bite. You just smirk and hit your elbow with his and dig in to your own meal. “Mmm fuck” you say inbetween bites. Moaning at the deliciousness of the food. Lost in your own world of sensation.

He stares at you agape, not believing the sounds he’s hearing coming from your mouth over food. He feels his dick twitch in his pants but ignores it to put all his attention on his own food, drowning out your noises and focusing solely on the motions of eating. He was robotic at this point. Nodding his head and saying a few “mhms” whenever you would give a quip about something.

“Miguel, did you even hear me?” You’ve stopped eating and are starting right at him. Face serious and waiting for his reply.

He can’t make eye contact with you and goes to take a drink of his coffee but his escape was stopped by the emptiness of the cup and the bowl.

He turns his head slowly and meets your eyes, praying he doesn’t look too guilty.

Wrong.

You roll your eyes and sigh heavily. Eyes piercing into his. “As I was saying, I think you should add this shops macaroons to the spider society cause they’re fucking delicious. Honestly it would be super cute or whatever, like think about it. Spiderman flavored macaroons!” You beam at him and he sits there confused on how your mood changed so quickly. He thought he was a dead man earlier for sure. But when he realizes what you were talking about he laughs out loud.

“Spiderman flavored macaroons?” He looks at you with disbelief.

“Yeah! I mean it’s not unreasonable considering we have Miguel burgers already.” You shrug.

“Hold on, what?” He stops in his tracks.

“Oh shit you didn’t know?” You place a hand on your mouth and chuckle into it. He looks at you beyond confused and tries to make sense of what you just said.

“Sooo there’s these burgers in the cafeteria. Annnd they have your design on them. Not my idea by the way. But they’re actually really good.” You explain.

“I can’t believe no one ever informed me about this.” He shakes his head.

“Well you do sit alone in that lab religiously.”

“Okay but how do you expect them to make spiderman flavored macaroons? It sounds so ridiculous.”

“I don’t know, have them be strawberry flavored or something. And red?”

“You’re insane.”

“You love me.”

He sighs and kisses your hand. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good because I might have already started a petition and got the chefs in on it.”

He looks at you in awe and laughs to himself. “Should’ve expected that from the start.”

He brings you closer to his side again and watches as you finish your food. The sun was starting to set over the city and the sky crowned a beautiful red dome over them. The neon signs from the surrounding buildings were beginning to glow and the low jazz music of the cafe played smoothly throughout the shop.

“Gods I’m full.” You lean your head back and pat your stomach. “You get enough to eat?” You ask him. He was built like a fridge so you thought a simple bowl probably wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him.

“Mhm. Vegan bowls provide a lot of healthy protein.”

“Ah I see. Well good. Cause you’ll need your stamina for later. Let’s go.” You give him a wink and stand up, your keys jingling and begin to walk out to the car. His eyes go wide and his legs scramble up to follow you.

His body hums in anticipation, knowing exactly what you meant. And he wishes his pants weren’t so god damn tight because sooner than later he will be uncomfortably straining against them.

“Gracias.” He says when you hold the door for him. Intentionality staying back a few paces to stare at his phat ass.

“Where are you parked?” He looks over his shoulder to you, placing a hand on his small waist. You bite your lip and look up at him, delighting in the way his adams apple bob.

“Around the corner. Here, you drive.” Tossing him the keys, they fly in the air for a couple seconds and easily fall into the palm of his hand. You catch up to him and walk in place at his side, interlocking your fingers and leaning on the large muscles of his arms.

“Right here.” You point at the area you parked in and take off to get into the passenger's seat and plug in your aux. You started playing “moments in love” when Miguel entered and adjusted the seat and mirror.

When you guys got onto the street he was focused on driving and the sight of his profile glowing from the sun illuminated him and you were so enraptured by his beauty that you missed the moment when he moved his arm from the shift, to your thigh.

You looked down at the hand that had sneakily found its way onto you and started gently rubbing your muscles through your pants. Your face got hot and a chill shot down your spine. You resisted looking at his smug face to not feed his ego as he teased you.

The people lingering on the streets outside started becoming very interesting to you, when a bump in the road caused his hand to ride up higher on your thigh, explicitly close to your clothed heat. And he showed no signs of moving it back.

“Seven more minutes.” He said plainly and tapped the steering wheel. Your thighs clenched together unintentionally and it made your breath hitch. You two would be home soon. But his teasing made it feel like those seven minutes would be an eternity.

You tried sitting patiently but he kept squeezing your thigh, even through your efforts of keeping his hand still. Your breathing was becoming ragged and music in the background pounded in your ears and the bass thrummed in your chest as it got louder.

The car pulled into the complex’s parking garage and when Miguel shut the engine down, you got out as quickly as possible, loudly shutting the door behind you, but he was quicker. Already on your side and slamming you into the side of the car, it shook with the impact of your bodies and you moaned loudly when he pressed himself into your ass and grabbed your hips, clawing at their sides to untuck your shirt and feel the soft mound of your plush stomach.

“Fuck-” You exhaled and felt his hot tongue against the side of your neck. Sucking harshly on the skin.

He pulled down at the collar of your shirt, exposing your shoulder to the cool air and biting down, breaking the skin in the process. He let out a throaty groan and you could feel him straining against his jeans behind you. His fangs dripped with their venom but you could care less because his bite was harmless to you and only further served as a building factor of your lust.

“Mig-Miguel, inside.” You said through gasps. As needy as you are right now, you don’t want to traumatize your neighbors or random pedestrians.

He licked your shoulder where he bit and lapped up the small amount of blood that leaked out. He then used his force to turn you around and kiss you ravishingly.

He sucked your face like candy and it left you panting. Desperate for more of his touch as you stood in place and saw the bloodshot color of his eyes.

“Come on.” He takes you by the wrist and drags you to your door, pinning you again at the door, mouth on you once more and hands full of your ass. You in return had a fist full of his hair and dug your nails into his back.

He almost broke the door while unlocking it and turned to close it, not wasting any time to get back to you. In his rush he picked you up and set you on the counter.

“You are so gorgeous today my love.” Miguel said and tossed the keys and threw the blazer off your shoulders, immediately pressing his face into your chest and kissing down your stomach.

“Me? Fuck, do you even realize how insanely hot you look in those clothes.” You breathed hard as he undid the buttons to your shirt and moved his hand underneath the clothing, cupping your breast and kissing your neck, marking more hickies to bloom and admire later.

You moaned when he licked at a particular sensitive spot and released your boobs from their constraints. Your nipples pebbled hard at the exposure to the air and Miguel dived back down into your chest to take one into his mouth. A wave of pleasure shot straight to your core as he alternated between both nipples, sucking hard and biting gently, making sure he didn’t puncture your breasts with his fangs.

You squeezed his waist that was slotted in between your legs to signal that you wanted more. Needed more. He wasn’t going fast enough for you after you spent all day waiting in anticipation for this.

“Hurry the fuck up.” You whined and slid your hand down his chest to his waist. Pulling him up to kiss you.

“Patience mi amor.” He entered your mouth hastily and pushed against your tongue but before you could make it deeper he left you with a trail of spit and pushed you farther back onto the counter.

He grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled hard. The black pants you were wearing slid right down off your ankles easily and he hurriedly placed himself back in between your thighs and kissed the sensitive area within your thighs that made you shake, but he gripped you tightly, claws retracted and poking at your smooth skin to make sure you don’t move.

“Oh shit.” You breathe out when you feel him getting closer to your core. He throbs in his pants when he notices the dark spot on your panties, showing how wet you are for him already. He breathes hotly over your cunt and before you can predict it, he puts his mouth over you, licking into the lace and salivating over the slight taste of you he can get from that.

He pushes them to the side and licks expectantly up your pussy, swallowing the juices and moaning at the flavor. He makes sure to avoid your clit for now and uses his tongue to enter you. The foreign prod of his appendage makes you jolt and whimper loudly. He looks up to see you watching with lust as he eats you out. His mouth glistened with your essence and he looked like a man dying of thirst as he drank from your pussy. Moving his tongue back and forth against your tight walls and adding a thick finger into the mix. He had to use his other hand to push down on your stomach to keep your hips from bucking up into him and the more you moaned and cried, the further it stirred him on. He lifts his head for a second, tongue darting against his lips, chin wet with your slick, and smiles to himself when he rips your panties apart. Eager to see your lower half in its entirety. You were too blown out with pleasure to care, and when he finally put his tongue on your sensitive bud, you screamed, calling out his name and pulling on his hair roughly.

He groaned at the feel of your nails digging into his scalp, urging him to swallow you harder. The sweet sounds of ecstasy coming from you rang in his ears like his favorite song. He kept flicking his tongue against your clit and shoved two fingers inside, fucking you with his hand at a pace that made you see stars. Your walls stretched at the intrusion of his large fingers and fluttered against him. He was breaking you at the seams and your voice raised an octave at the incoming threat of your climax.

You tried to say something but could only squeeze his head with your thighs and stutter “I-I-I…” before crashing into oblivion and shaking intensely with the strong wave of pleasure.

“That’s it, good.” He praises and removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth and licking the juices clean. You breathe hard and watch as he makes eye contact with you while tasting your come off his fingers. Your pussy clenched around nothing and craved to be filled again. Miguel leaned down and put his hand on the counter to kiss your face and force open your mouth to make you taste yourself on him, salty with a sweet tang to it.

“Can you come for me again sweetheart?” He says into your ear and drags you back down the counter to flip you around onto your stomach. You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling before you could nod your head in response. “Fuck, you’re magnificent.” He breathily says when you perk your ass up for him and reach underneath to spread yourself open.

“Please Miguel. Now.” You look back over your shoulder and watch as he grunts and grabs your ass, lining himself up against you while coating his hard long dick in your wetness spreading himself against your folds.

He moaned loudly as he pressed against you and slowly entered. Stretching you thin and making you wail as you take the tip of his thick cock.

He bottoms out and leans over your back to kiss in between your shoulder blades, rubbing the sides of your hips gently before beginning to thrust. He breathes in through his teeth at how tight your cunt is clenching against him. “Fuck- you take me so well.” He moans.

Your hips hit the counter and the fat on your ass jiggles with the recoil of his heavy and powerful thrusts that pick up in speed. Your nails scratch against the counter top and your mouth is open from the constant moaning he is causing. The sounds of skin slapping each other fill the room as he continues pounding into you from behind, whispering praises of how good you are through grunts.

His grip on your waist is deadly and you’re sure it’s gonna bruise in the morning but his dick is too divine with the way it’s moving inside you, molding your insides to the shape of him and hitting your g-spot every now and then. He fucked you ruthlessly, using both his hands to pile drive into you and slap your ass.

“Such a needy fucking cunt.” He increased the pace of his thrusts and you tried to sloppily keep up with the pace by pushing your hips back into him but he ignored that and kept a hold on your hips, forcing you onto his dick like his own personal cocksleeve. “Begging me to fill it up with my come. Is that what you want, querida?”

“Yes.” You say softly, eyes closed and exhausted from how hard he was fucking you.

“Say it.” He slaps your ass hard, leaving a red palm mark and soothing it with his hand immediately afterwards.

“Fuck- yes! I want it.” He grabbed your chin and turned your neck to make you look him in the eye, cracking it in the process, the joints popping loudly at the rough movements.

“Want what?” He didn’t stop thrusting inside you and you whimpered at the intensity of his gaze. Moaning at the feel of veins dragging against you.

“Want you to- to come inside.” He smirks and releases your face, throwing his head back as he focuses on the feeling of your wet pussy enveloping him from all around.

“That’s right mami. You've been so good for me. So so good.” He moans and moves a hand down to rub at your clit, your reaction was evident in the spike in your voice and the way you clenched so hard you almost shoved him out. “Fuck.”

You bite your hand to keep from screaming as his hips slap roughly against your ass and his fingers swirl around your sensitive clit.

“Gonna fuck another baby into you-shit!” He grunts out and his thrusts become erratic as he gets closer to finishing, the heat of your walls clouds his mind as the stutter of your folds against him edge him and he increases the speed of his hand to make you come first.

“Yesyesyesyes!” You say in between moans and roll your eyes back. “Miguel, I'm so close!”

He pants heavily behind you and you become undone when he thrusts particularly hard against that one spot deep inside you, sliding against it and hitting your womb. His cock twitched inside you as you came and squeezed him tightly. The rush he felt made him increase his thrusts and he pounded hard against you, voice choking up in between moans as you came down from your high and milked his dick with your pussy.

He presses his chest against your back and buries himself deeply. “m-me estoy viniendo” he releases inside you and you feel the wet warmth spill within you as he coats your walls and breathes heavily against your ear.

He kisses the side of your face sweetly, pushing some loose strands of your hair behind your ear and whimpers when you clench around him again.

He leans on his arm to put some of his weight off of you as the both of you catch your breath.

Your limbs are weak and muscles sore when he pulls out of you. The counter being the only thing holding you upright until he takes you into his arms, carrying you to the bed and setting you down gently. His seed trickles out of you onto the sheets and he moves into the bathroom to bring back a cloth and clean you up. Wiping off the sweat on your body and the mess in between your legs carefully to not overstimulate you.

You lean back on the pillow and reach over for him. He smiles and pulls the blankets over your bodies then wraps an arm around you, closing his eyes and kissing your cheek and resting his head on your shoulder.

“I love you.”

“I love you too mi corazòn”

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