#Also just cause of the way this is set up I think they have reconnected with Monk at this point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arijackz · 29 days

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PICK A CARD: What Will Your FS Admire Most About You?

⚤ “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” - Pablo Neruda

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, disregard any pronouns that do not apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✠ Pile One ✠ (King of Cups,Page of Cups,The World,7)

✧ Cards went wiillldddd. You stir up so much emotion in this person, it’s crazy. Your heart chakra is front and center here. You are picture-perfect harmony and universal love to your spouse. Your love can’t be contained, you love them, your friends, your favorite mug, worms out in the rain, strangers, the moon, and all the stars in the sky.

✧ All I see is a wide-ass smile, the biggest, wateriest eyes, and full cheeks. Your spouse thinks you’re sunshine-incarnated.

✧ This will sound corny, but your heart and love for the world and all its diversity make you appear angelic; God’s gift to humanity. The emotional depth you have is nothing shy of divine. Your ability to understand and reconnect your person with their inner dreamer makes you irreplaceable in their eyes.

✧ I feel like your future spouse had to navigate around a lot of emotionally stunted people who left scars that prevented them from forming healthy relationships. Your empathy and desire to make space for peace and unity in this world give them hope that true love is alive and they are the lucky son of a bitch who gets to call an angel, theirs.

✧ I smell salt and hear waves. (I bet you’re tired of the cheesy poetry but HEY, me and your boo are OBSESSED with your energy) You truly are as beautiful and powerful as the seven seas.

✧ You know the Ouroboros, and how it's sometimes depicted as a snake wrapped around the oceans, holding onto its tail to keep the world together? Yea, that. To your future partner, you hold the key to their world. You add so much color and vibrancy. You turn over their inner ocean and awaken so much repressed child-like wonder within them.

✧ Wow. Your spouse loves the depths of you.

✧ Check for water placements, signs, and houses, in your natal chart. Some of you have insane intuition and have clairsenses. Clairaudience to be specific.

✧ Some of you are active in charities or aspire to make a difference in society. Maybe you’re into esoteric practices or anything else metaphysical.

✧ I even have a few philosophers here. Okay, KANT! (somebody please get this joke)

She Excites the Seven Seas

✠ Pile Two ✠ (Ace of Pentacles,8oW,The Emperor rev., “I Want”)

I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me

✧ Of course, you don’t have to be a woman but that TikTok sound SCREAMED at me. Your future spouse is lowkey intimidated by you and they love it.

✧ You have big dreams. Big plans. But most importantly, a million and one ways to get you where you need to be. Your ability to say “I want this,” and then actually go out and GET it?? Your spouse is like the meme that goes “I’m a little scared, but I’m turned on.”

✧ I also see that you’re unconventional. If people have been doing whatever you want to do a certain way for years, you'll find ways to do it differently, just cause. You’re a true trailblazer. Your self-conviction is so damn alluring. Even for the people who struggle with insecurity sometimes, once you get over that hump and decide that you desire something, you fucking get it. Your partner sees you like magic. They are impressed by just how quickly your desires are set in motion for you. They feel that you are powerful and bring a great deal of power to them from just being in your proximity.

✧ You are also the “I don’t take shit from nobody” type. Not from strangers, not from your friends, your family, not even from your partner. In their eyes, you know your worth and have a strong self-foundation that nobody can tear down. There is genuine admiration and respect here. I even get the “I want to be like you when I grow up” mentality.

✧ There is a speediness to you they find very attractive. Either the way you behave, speak, or just stress about time, your pacing holds a special place in their heart. (or maybe, despite all of your responsibilities, you manage to find stillness in the chaos and slow down when necessary)

✧ The way you speak drives this person wild. It's like your voice narrates their thoughts and is the source of all of their arousal. Do with that information what you will...(don't be cruel, you make this person so nervous).

✧ I shuffled through a playlist and E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE!! by Corpse came on and one of the lyrics goes,

She just look into my soul with them Shinigami eye Coke in my nose and a blade on her thigh. Man, I think this girl is really trying to plan my demise

✧ Yea, you put the fear of God into this person, but in a good way! Your presence can be chilling sometimes. Fire energy for sure. There are definitely people here from pile 2 of my first pac, “What are your most alluring qualities?”, check that out if you want to.

✧ Okay, this energy has me needing to take a LAP, bye.

"Man, I Think This Girl Tryna Plan My Demise"

✠ Pile Three ✠ (10oW, 9oW)(no other cards wanted to come out, real stubborn)

✧ Okay so, this feels specific?... and maybe even a lil off topic but I feel called to say this

✧ I sense that you and your person are psychically connected and share the mutual feeling that the two of you are meant to cross paths. The both of you have gotten your fair share of fuckery in this lifetime and this union feels like divine justice.

✧ This sounds a little fucked up, but you guys flourish amid trauma. Dark energy alchmaziers. You best wield your potential while you’re going THROUGH it.

✧ You had to “die” and bury yourself a dozen times to get where you are today.

✧ You are a very evolved individual. Throughout your life, traumatic events and relationships have forced you to bear a lot of weight on your back and it’s like the pressure has forged you into a diamond. With each curveball life threw at you, you stood tall and pushed to make something of yourself, proving your worth after a lifetime of strife and instability.

✧ Scorpio/Capricorn and 8th house/10th house placements. (check midpoints).

✧ A lot of you have tense shoulders, upper back, shoulder, and neck pain from the unease and anxiety your body carries. You have insomnia and may even struggle with nightmares.

✧ This person you’re coming into union with is so healing.

✧ This is something the both of you broke down and prayed for on your darkest days. This is a true partner, the soul that kept yours warm when the world was so cold. You had to put your dreamier side on the back burner to survive. This person will make you feel safe to dream again.

✧ I don’t have anything specific to say because you and your person feel so secretive You two recognize each other’s pain and are the only people you guys trust. Like not even lil ol’ me can really get through to y'all. Y’all ride AND die for each other, in this life and the next.

✧ If you’re into astrology and already have a feel for who this person is, check your guys’ composite chart. Strong Scorpio energy here.

✧ Coming into union with this person will feel like a wish fulfillment.

✧ (short pile, it felt like a quick message for those of you who feel this connection telepathically. This is probably a secondary choice.)

"I Want To Caress The Piece of Me Within You"

✠ Pile Four ✠ (Queen of Wands, 9oP rev., 7oP, 4oP rev., the high priestess, queen of cups, “I will”)

✧ You’re a bad bitch, truly. Your fs isn’t calling you a bitch, buuuttttt she a baddie, she know she a ten! She a baddie with her baddie…. wait a minute…

✧ You may not have a lot of friends? You keep your circle tight-knit because you have been deeply hurt in the past and you guard your peace fiercely. For some of you, your home life was quite tumultuous and you struggle with financial security and inner happiness. It seemed like the world did not want you to feel good about yourself or succeed.

✧ Do you know that viral display of a deer’s ribcage with a spear through it, and how even though an attempt was made on the deer’s life, he managed to survive and lived for years after that event; all while still growing bone marrow with a giant fucking spear through its ribcage?

✧ “A close encounter with a hunter left the deer with several broken ribs and part of an arrow embedded in its body. Remarkably, the animal survived, and bone grew around the shaft and arrowhead lodged in the creature's side."

✧ "The deer lived with the arrow inside its body until years later, when another hunter killed the animal, cut the deer open, and discovered its amazing secret…As the tough tissue formed over the arrow, it acted as a splint for the damaged rib cage, strengthening the deer's injured body.”

✧ I highlighted some words that needed emphasizing. That’s how your partner sees you. They are in complete awe of the resilience and sheer tenacity you hold. They look at you and can’t believe the person before their eyes. The troubling history you usually try to hide from your romantic partners is exactly what allures this person.

✧ You won’t ever lay on your belly and cry about life passing you by. You aren’t the type to victimize yourself and “woe is me” your way out of self-improvement.

✧ You are quite ambitious and aim to push forward, even if the odds are stacked against you.

✧ I get the message that some people in this pile have struggled with self-harm over the years. Your partner wants to kneel down and kiss your scars like a white knight, and vow to protect you emotionally and physically for as long as you’ll have them.

✧ The spear-deer imagery is so interesting. The deer represents virality. It is a symbol of piety, gentleness, devotion, and fertility. Especially with the queen of wands, the high priestess, AND the queen of cups, you provide profound love, passion, and insight to this person. However, even as a deer, you are quite badass???

✧ You are as gentle as a strand of hair but as strong as wool. Dainty but unbreakable.

✧ They have no desire to infantilize you because they know you are already your own greatest warrior. But they don’t want you to feel that you have to fight alone. Whatever burdens are on your plate, they take away as much as possible because they want to be a piece of the paradise you fight for.

✧ This is meant to be a short pac, a Tumblr post won’t do the unbelievable strength in your character much justice. Just know that your fs is so fucking in love with you and wants to spend their life by your side because of just how awe-struck they are by you.

✧ I mean c’mon… will YOU ever forget the story of the coolest fucking deer in existence??

"I Yearn To Be the Name You Call Out in Victory"

#pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #astrology observations #pick a pile #arijackz

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chrisevansonly · 5 months

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: marriage and raising a family is never easy, there are bumps and waves along the way, but even the sun has to come out after a little rain…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight angst, mentions of anxiety and mental health, crying, fluff

𝐀/𝐍: alright everyone we are GETTING BACK TO THE FLUFFY GOODNESS AGAIN, and welcome to chapter six, i’ll be honest idk how many chapters this will have yet, so bear with me, this also seems very shitty writing to me so i apologize if it is💀

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Why did you feel so nervous, it wasn’t as if a stranger was coming to your home, no it was Charles, your Charles. The father of your beautiful little boy, and your husband, whom despite everything you loved with your entire being, of course your heart still hurt from the argument a few days ago but you had to recognize that you were in the wrong just as much as he had been

The kitchen smelt like notes of caramel and hazelnut as you brewed a fresh poot of coffee, Matteo’s favourite cinnamon scones on the island awaiting his father who was arriving any second now

“Maman, où est papa?” the toddler asked softly, not wanting to interrupt your meticulous place setting at the breakfast nook

“Il devrait être là dans la seconde, mon amour”

Matteo smiled, sticking to your side wanting to help you as much as he could, it had been a rough couple of days for the little boy, not understanding that his parents were fighting and it wasn’t his fault. Something that you and Charles needed to discuss because the older he got, the more anxious he became.

“Est-ce que papa est déjà là?”

You frowned, brushing some of the unruly hair out of the toddlers face

“Pas ce soir mon amour..”

“Why!”

It wasn’t a surprise to hear Matteo get so upset it had been about two days since he’d seen him, far too long in his mind

“Because Maman and Papa are just having some time apart..”

Matteo looked up at you, his eyes sad as the began to gloss over, sending your heart into a bit of a panic as you watched the gears turn in his brain trying to figure out what that meant

“Est-ce à cause de moi?”

He sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve as you quickly scooped up the young boy into your arms

“Petit amour, ce n’est pas ta faute et tu n’as rien fait de mal”

You paused for a moment

“I promise you Matteo it is not your fault, sometimes parents just need a cool off so we can have some space and then come back stronger than before, I promise you baby papa and maman love each other so so much, and we love you so much more.”

Matteo stayed quiet but snuggled further into your chest, and you knew in this moment you and Charles needed to figure things out and do it fast.

Charles arrived at the house rather quickly, eager to see his little boy and even more excited to see you, he missed being home with the two of you, and was hoping today he could finally come home and work to put this behind him, he would do everything in his power to do that.

“Papa!!”

You looked up in time to see Matteo run off to the front door, straight into Charles’s arms, happy giggles spilling from his lips

“Tu m’as tellement manqué petit prince, papa t’aime tellement.”

“Papa je t’aime tellement, tu m’as manqué encore plus!”

Charles smiled pressing kisses to the little boy’s face as they spent a few minutes reconnecting, it made you feel guilty, thinking back on it maybe you should have fixed this problem right when it happened. Not wanting to interrupt them you waited until Matteo took off with his father’s phone to play games, leaving the two of you in the kitchen together, a soft smile on Charles’s face, yet there was evident worry in his eyes.

“Mon amour…”

Deciding against the slight hurt that remained in your chest you walked over and wrapped your arms around him, closing your eyes as your head rested against his chest

“I’m sorry..”

“No please, don’t apologize, I shouldn’t have pushed you..”

Shaking your head you looked up at him

“I threw my anxiety in your face and-and I know how important racing is to you and you want to show Matteo everything but-”

“But nothing amour please, I understand why you are scared, Matteo is your baby as is he mine and it was wrong of me to push and push when you weren’t ready and I saw that from the very first time I brought it up…”

He paused just enough to catch a tear that slipped down your cheek before he continued, his thumb remaining on your cheekbone gently

“I should have never raised my voice at you like I did, I made a promise to you and I broke it, something I swear to you I will never do to you again, all I can say now is I am so sorry amour…tu es mon soleil, mes étoiles, ma lune et le plus beau cadeau que j'ai jamais reçu. Je ne veux jamais te perdre.”

Charles didn’t have to say anything else in the moment, because you were quick to press your lips to his, his hands holding onto your face gently, cradling it as if you were made of porcelain. A kiss that brought you back to your wedding night, one that was filled with so much love you thought you might pass out, but god would it have been worth it.

“I love you, so much Char…come home please and-and we’ll figure out the rest another day.. I should have never made you stay away from us like that, I’ll kick myself for it…”

“No enough, I’m not mad at all baby I don’t blame you..come lets go have a movie day with Teo”

Nodding your head you let him lead you to the living room where Charles was quick to order your favourite lunch, while recruiting Matteo to make the couch into the comfiest movie watching space you’d ever had. A smile coming to your face at the excitement in his eyes, and excitement you’d missed seeing from him the past few days.

There really was nothing better in the world than having your little family back together, even if there was still much to be discussed and talked about but for right now, this was just perfect. Matteo settled in between the two of you, a happy smile on his face.

“I love you Maman, I love you Papa”

Charles looked over at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead, letting you settle onto his shoulder comfortably, everything was absolutely perfect, there was nothing that could come between the three of you again.

He would make sure of it, no matter what he had to do.

ʚlittle karter taglist

@goldenalbon @goldenmclaren @a1leexxa @treehouse-mouse @therealcap @wintfleur

english translations:

Maman, où est papa? - Mom where is daddy?

Il devrait être là dans la seconde, mon amour - He should be here any second my love

Est-ce que papa est déjà là? - is Daddy here?

Pas ce soir mon amour - Not tonight my love

Est-ce à cause de moi? - Is it because of me?

Petit amour, ce n’est pas ta faute et tu n’as rien fait de mal - Little love, it’s not your fault and you have done nothing wrong

Tu m’as tellement manqué petit prince, papa t’aime tellement. - i missed you so much little prince, daddy loves you so much

Papa je t’aime tellement, tu m’as manqué encore plus! - Daddy i love you so much i missed you even more!

Tu es mon soleil, mes étoiles, ma lune et le plus beau cadeau que j'ai jamais reçu. Je ne veux jamais te perdre - you are my sun, my stars, my moon and the greatest gift i’ve ever gotten, i never want to lose you

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pnsteblnme · 9 months

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tattoos together ✿ g.s.

pairing: georgia stanway x reader

summary: georgia gets her first tattoo, even if it doesn't go according to her plan.

warning: none i think? just my writing :o

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i got this request a couple days ago, i hope you enjoy it!

you can find part two here :)

“Welcome in, how can I…,” removing your gaze from the sketch you were about to put away, your eyes connected with pools of glistening honey, irises swirling like sweet nectar. Feeling yourself drowning in the warm haze of brown, your breath getting caught in your throat and your mouth opening, you shook yourself out of your daze, “…help you.”

Flinching after your last words came out embarrassingly breathless, you sent an awkward smile that turned into a real one when the blonde girl looked at you with nothing but kindness, “Hey, I had an appointment for today.”

You scanned the calendar on the desk in front of you, “Georgia, right?”

Nodding her head, said girl let her eyes travel over your form as you stood up. She couldn’t help but study the intricate tattoos that adorned your arms, wanting to trace them and longing to discover their meanings. The initial apprehension about getting her first tattoo diminished as she admired yours, thinking that if yours looked this immaculate, she wouldn’t have to worry.

Another thing that calmed her uneasiness was not only the very attractive welcoming artist but also the atmosphere of the room.

Unlike many other tattoo shops with a rather gloomy and dark-esque appearance, this one felt like reconnecting with an old friend.

The soft scratching of Cindy Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’ coming from the boxes next to a vinyl collection in the left corner filled her ears. Sunbeams bestowed the room with a glow as orange as marigolds blooming in the late spring and the candles lit on the windowsill filled the air with a vanilla scent.

White walls were decked with hundreds of sketches varying in size and drawing style, most in black and white with a few colourful specks in between.

The wooden front desk harmonised perfectly with the brown leather seat to the left of the room, as well as the stems of the numerous plants that were scattered all around.

Comfort.

That was the only word that came to Georgia’s mind when she finished looking around, feeling the knot in her gut loosen and her stiff shoulders relax.

“What can I do for you?”

Pools of honey meeting the ocean, the blonde girl smiled, “I want to get a tattoo!”

“Well, then you’re at the right place,” you chuckled teasingly, the corners of your mouth turning up.

Seeing Georgia rolling her eyes, you continued, “Do you have an idea of what you want, or would you like some inspiration?”

“I think I know what I want,” thoughts running through her mind at a hundred miles per hour making her unsure once more.

Watching the woman twiddle the rings on her fingers, you send her an encouraging smile, “Okey dokey, if you’d take a seat in that chair over there, I’ll get my stuff and we can get started.”

Georgia shuffled to the left with her hands slightly shaking, not knowing if the cause of that were the gleaming smiles sent her way or rather the fact that she was about to permanently mark her skin.

“So, what would you like me to do?” you questioned as you rolled towards her with your chair, putting on your gloves and setting up everything you needed on the tray next to the woman.

Taking out her phone, tapping a few times and turning the screen in your direction, she replied, “Could you do this one?”

On her phone screen, you could see a small, delicate ghost, your mind instantly jumping to all the customers that had gotten two of them tattooed as a tribute to their favourite song.

“Of course, where do you want it?”

“Here,” she pointed to a spot on her left forearm.

Nodding your head, you quickly but neatly drew the ghost onto a white paper, before asking her if the drawing was according to her idea. When you got a positive response, you put the carbon paper under your sketch and went over the lines again, the ink sticking to the back of your drawing.

You swiftly put antiseptic on her arm and hovered the paper over her skin, “Right here?” She wordlessly moved her head up and down once more and you gently pressed it down before removing it after a few seconds, leaving behind the temporary ink in the form of a ghost.

“Okay, are you ready?”

Georgia could hear her heartbeat in her ears, a lump forming in her throat, that she almost audibly gulped down, a breathless exhale escaped her mouth, “I think so, yeah.”

After turning on the needle and noticing her jump a little at the buzzing that sizzled through the air, you tried to comfort her the best you could, with the most reassuring look you could muster.

When you neared her arm though and she started squirming in her seat, you pulled back and reached for her hand resting on the chair, which was holding the brown leather in a tight grip, her knuckles turning white, “Is everything all right?”

Both of you ignoring the tingles that shot through your bodies when your hands touched, a shaky sigh left Georgia’s lips, “I’m just nervous, this is my first time getting a tattoo and I just don’t know how any of this works or if this hurts and I don’t want to do something I’ll regret,” she let out in one big breath.

“There’s no need to worry, you can go home and see what it’s like with the tattoo and when it comes off and you decide that you don’t want it, that’s totally fine,” you told her with warm eyes, “and if you do like it, that’s fine too, you can come back and we can do it whenever you want, whenever you’re ready.”

Feeling like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders after your words, Georgia’s mind slowed down a bit, allowing her to gather her thoughts, “But I don’t want to be a wuss now and regret it as soon as I get home.”

Not being able to stop the words tumbling out of her mouth, the blonde shared her inner conflict, “Like on the one side I really want this but on the other, I’m afraid it’s not the right thing, you know?”

Letting the statement run through the air for a moment, your eyes ran over her face, “Can I say something?”

“Sure, go on,” Georgia confirmed, her hands starting to twist her rings again.

“I think that it’s better to look back on your life and say ‘I can’t believe I did that’ than to look back and say ‘I wish I did that,” you explained before taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express your thoughts, “Life shouldn’t be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely, but one that should be lived to the fullest, even if it means being worn out in the end. One where you embrace every moment, take risks, I don’t know, dance in the rain with your favourite people, even if you get weird looks from everyone else.”

After not getting a response from the blonde after a few beats, you realised that maybe your words didn’t make as much sense as they did in your head and continued, “What I’m trying to say is that twenty years from now, you’ll be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the things you did do. I can’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, but I know that life isn’t meant to be lived perfectly, it’s merely meant to be lived. Boldly, uncertainly, imperfectly, kindly, however you want to, just don’t let fear take that choice away from you.”

Somehow, the words that had left your lips with the sunlight sparkling in your eyes and a passion coating your voice drew the blonde further into the spell you had mysteriously put on her, leaving her speechless, until you let out an awkward chuckle, hand scratching the back of your neck, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give this big ass monologue.”

Feeling a laugh bubbling up inside of her and forgetting her rapid heartbeat for a moment, she shook her head, “No, no, don’t apologise, I mean, you did kind of sound like my Nan, but it was still great.”

When she heard the melodious sound of your laughter, she knew she was a goner, butterflies dancing around her stomach and warmth crawling its way through her whole body.

You took the missing statement about her tattoo as her still being uncertain, “We can start with something smaller if you’re not sure about the ghost.”

Still being faced with an apprehensive look, you took off your left glove, quickly spraying a bit of antiseptic onto the inside of your wrist, before turning the needle on and guiding it over your skin, “Look, it doesn’t even hurt.”

Brown eyes widened, rosy lips parted, a flabbergasted look crossed her face, “Jesus Christ, what did you do?!”

Wiping over the ink once more, you turned your wrist towards her, a cheeky smile resting on your lips that resembled the one of the smiley face you now had resting on your left arm, “Tada!”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you just did that,” the shock was still palpable in her voice, “Won’t you regret that though?”

You put away the needle and turned to face the girl on the brown chair, shaking your head, “I almost never regret anything, because I believe that every little detail of your life is what made you into who you are.”

“Deep down you’re actually a wise old man, aren’t you?” questioned Georgia with a raised eyebrow, your laughter filling the room once more.

“Maybe so,“ you shrugged your shoulders, “but back to you and don’t try to change the subject!”

“I can give you one of these little dudes if you want?” pointing to the ink that you’d just put on your arm.

“It’s not very big, so you can see what it feels like and we’d be matching, so you’ll always remember the wise old man that gave you your first tattoo.”

This time, the chuckles that rang through the room came from the blonde, “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, like I said, you can always go home.”

With affirmation in her voice, Georgia declared, “I’m sure!”

“Great, let’s do this,” you put your glove back on, disinfected her left wrist and grabbed the needle from the tray, before turning it on.

When you felt her right hand gripping your left one with a tight grip, you squeezed it, hoping to at least bring her some comfort as you began the procedure.

After tracing the last line, you wiped away the residue and turned everything off before raising your head to meet the pools of honey watching your every move, “See, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

If the way the corners of Georgia’s lips turned upwards was anything to go by, you had your answer, feeling elated about her reaction, even without getting an answer from the girl.

Not noticing that you were waiting for a response, she gazed at the tiny smiley face resting on the inside of her left wrist, that would forever remind her of this day. Suddenly, she felt at ease, something that hadn’t even crossed her mind when she initially thought about getting her first tattoo. She couldn’t explain it, but something about the way you listened to her and tried to support her through this process, overall your gentle nature, made her feel like she was walking on fluffy pink clouds.

“Thank you so much,” Georgia breathed out with a heavy voice.

“No problem! If I ever see you again, I hope it's with more of those, I think it’d suit you very well.”

Lowering her head, praying to god that you couldn’t see the heat that rushed to her cheeks, she mumbled a shy ‘thanks’ before asking you how much she had to pay.

Your answer only intensified the red hue of her face, “Don’t worry about it, I like contributing to the gay panic everyone will have when they see you with tattoos.”

Stammering a final ‘thank you’ and sending you what should’ve been a thankful look but turned out to be more of a blushing grimace, she made her way to the door.

When she tried to push the door though, the flustered mess that was Georgia realised too late that she should’ve pulled on it instead, her head connecting with the glass with a dull thud.

The sound of stifled giggles filled her ears as you held your hand in front of your mouth, trying to stop them from escaping. You couldn’t help but think that this was one of the most adorable things you’ve ever witnessed. The blonde turned to you, face beet red, slender fingers raising in an awkward wave as she hastily opened the door, almost tripping on her way out before half sprinting out of your eyesight.

Two days later, your mood instantly brightened when you saw who had stepped into your store.

“Back for some more wisdom from the old man?” you jested, a playful smirk resting on your face.

Georgia playfully put a hand on her chest and let out a big sigh, “I just don’t know what to do with my life without your wise words.”

Dropping her faux sad demeanour, she walked towards the front desk, where you were drawing something she couldn’t make out, “Well lucky for you, I just discovered my new favourite quote!”

You cleared your throat as if preparing for a big speech and started as serious as you could, “‘They whispered to her ’you can’t withstand the storm’,” pausing dramatically for a few seconds, “‘She whispered back ’I am the storm’.”

“Wow, I don’t… I don’t know what to say, I’m just- I mean that’s so inspiring,” stuttered Georgia, wiping away a fake tear with her hand.

Dropping her sad demeanour, she sent you a grin, “I’m ready for the ghost now!”

“Seriously? That’s amazing!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands together and rocking on the balls of your feet.

Walking her over to the leather chair, the conversation between you flowed easily, like a message in a bottle slowly but surely reaching its designated shore, making it feel like no time had passed when you finished the tattoo.

This time, Georgia left the store with a ghost adorning her left arm and an even wider smile on her face, as she was able to avoid embarrassment during her departure.

“I mean, not that I’m complaining, but you know that you can get multiple tattoos done in one day, right?” you questioned her, raising your eyebrow teasingly.

Seeing her head dropping and the way she started rocking on her feet while twiddling the rings on her fingers, you felt your stomach drop, thinking that you had said something wrong.

Before you could open your mouth to apologise, you were interrupted by Georgia muttering something under her breath. You strained your ears to make out the words but failed miserably.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”

The girl let out a nervous sigh and muttered again, “I know, but I still need to figure out how to get a grip and ask you out.”

Butterflies danced around in your stomach, making you grin like a fool, “Well then make as many appointments as you need,” you sent a wink her way.

That day she left with a game of noughts and crosses on her shoulder and a newfound determination to ask you out. Her walk home was filled with a million thoughts running through her head, asking the street lights if it would work out in the end.

The next day she showed up at your store with a bouquet of beautifully blooming flowers in her hand, sweating buckets, hoping you couldn’t tell just how nervous she was.

Your cheeks hurt from not being able to stop grinning like a cheshire cat, as you excitedly accepted her offer.

If anyone were to walk through the door, they would be met with two hearts rapidly beating and two smiles lighting up the entire room.

#woso #woso x reader #georgia stanway #georgia stanway x reader #woso fanfics #engwnt #fcb frauen

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marshmcore · 1 month

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Pondering Sniper with his Emotional Support Scout (AU)

Modern+College AU speeding bullet

Both in their early transitional age (Scout is 19, Sniper is 22), they’ve already spent a handful of years, supposedly taking the steps to build their futures, but are they where they want to be? Are they going to where they want to be? Where is it anyways?

I just had the idea for a more grounded side to their story, slice-of-life in a coming-of-age setting, with themes of existentialism. I aged them down to make it work… Under cut for info dumps about these goobers 8)

Scout took a break right after high school, working for his family business (an unsuccessful one, ran by one of his oldest brothers). This used to be a summer job, a way to get extra money as a kid, but now he’s been a full time worker for 2.5 years, familial obligations exploiting him to stay, while being undermined by his narcissistic brother. He eventually gets out of it, but has to face the hurt from being used, and also the fact that he had to grow up so quickly as a kid (especially when he has to deal with the fallout caused by his Mom’s and Spy’s affairs. He and his Mom are in good terms, it’s just his Mom isn’t a good support system atm). Left to face the real world by himself, he tries to find a way to stabilize by himself, while trying to face his trauma (trauma from a missing father figure, and being treated as the black sheep of his family) as he finds a way to be more himself and be happy. He’s optimistic and responsible when the world calls for it, otherwise he’s most likely to test this new freedom (for better or worse). Eventually Spy comes around to try to reconnect with Scout, there’s no telling how Scout will cope with it when he’s in the midst his new-found freedom.

Sniper went straight to university, never once took a break from the school work, because he thinks that’s the only way to go about in life. He took up a program and career plan that was not right for him, but struggled his way through by retaking course’s countless of times, pulling off impossible all-nighters, etc. At some point he gave up, began to drop classes every semester, and finally quit the program. However, he started working somewhere in the industry he had been studying years for. He thought this could bring him forward, but it kept digging him a deeper grave. He’s a workaholic, impulsive, but lost. At a very young age, he was a subject of a tough custody battle between his neglectful biological parents (Lar-nah and Bill-bel), and his grandparents (who are Mr and Mrs Mundee in this AU). From that, his guardians want him to be better than his parents, and in return he strived for that. However, after giving up, he feels like a failure and is currently going through a period of depression. However, with the money he earned from his job, he wonders if he should take that road-trip he used to fantasize. He told himself doing this will help him find himself, but a part of him wonders if its just him trying to run away from something. Either way, he’s got a deal for a junk RV and he wants to renovate it!

After all that, Scout and Sniper meet, their lives are in the cross roads, and their relationship is a turning point as well. It feels like the world is moving faster than they can cope with, but can they find some respite in this new relationship together? DUN DUN DUUUN

Phew this was really fun to write! I really like their dynamic, romantic or not (idc). Them being the same age range inspired me to write this, because I know myself and some friends have gone through this similar experience aswell, and I just think its fun/interesting to explore that with they have in cannon.

A lot of this projection tho lmao with a loose base derived from cannon, and some embellishments to make this AU work.

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apollokids · 11 months

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Thoughts about tsats, trauma, and the cocoa puffs

Nico’s personality in tsats feels most reminiscent of what he was like in The Titans Curse which (imo) is a sign that he is slowly healing and living with his trauma.

The Sun and the Star emphasizes that trauma and PTSD can make it feel like one’s past life events happened to a completely different person, and it mentions that Nico relates to this feeling. This distancing of oneself from past memories, experiences, and personality can result in feeling disconnected for a while, taking on new personality traits, feeling like a chameleon mimicking others, or just feeling empty.

For some people (maybe, depending on when trauma occurs), healing can be about reconnecting with our childhood selves. Depending on what someone was like before trauma, like maybe Nico for example, that can mean becoming more emotional, being more playful, indulging in your childhood interests (eg. mythomagic cards). And Nico’s progression practically mirrored mine exactly through the years, and the ways I changed in ED treatment.

It's hard to let go of a disorder when in some cases it feels like the only thing that’s stayed stable in our lives. Suffering is touted as the pinnacle of art-- we see its romanticization everywhere. It sounds weird to say that I miss being sick, or I miss my suffering, when I'm actively trying to make my life better, but those thoughts do come up. And when it comes to characters I project that misery on to? Well, if I’m suffering, then they have to suffer with me! (After all, they’re just characters, it’s not that deep, right?) Except I found that the more I made my characters suffer, and focused on the ‘beauty’ of suffering, the harder it was for me to heal from my own. Whenever my health was in decline, I characterized my favorite characters the same way. It was just as hard to allow those characters to heal as it was to allow myself to heal. (Other people might not feel the same, though.)

I think Nico choosing to accept the physical manifestations of his demons (while also setting them free, and allowing them to exist as they please) mirrors the suggestion I was given in treatment when I struggled with the idea of ‘giving up’ my eating disorder– because to me, it was always either defeat the disorder or be consumed by it, and defeating it sounded like killing a part of me or erasing a part of my past or my home. Approaching treatment from the standpoint of killing my eating disorder scared me too much. I knew my disorder had caused problems for me, but many of the habits and behaviors I’d developed had served as my coping mechanism and they helped me survive.

So, my therapist told me: “You don’t have to shun your disorder, kill it, or say goodbye. Instead, you can acknowledge that it served a purpose during a point in your life in which you used it to survive, but you no longer need to hold on to it and that’s okay — you’re setting it free. Maybe even instead of saying goodbye, you can say ‘thank you, I’m alright now.’”

And that’s pretty much… exactly what Nico did with the demons. Bob, too, acknowledged that he was a titan, and that was part of his past, and that’s okay — but he’s allowed to change. And Nico is too.

I just found that really really wonderful because I related to it so heavily. He didn’t want to conquer his trauma in battle. He wanted it to just… be acknowledged, and set free. And it followed him, but he can have a better relationship with his past now. He’s not consumed by it. It’s just there, it’s a part of him, and he can continue to live his life. And I think reading this book (while trying to maintain and navigate post-treatment life) was exactly what I needed to remind myself why I’m doing this.

#sentences bolded purely because it helps my eyes follow things better hope it helps others + is not obnoxious i dont usually make posts #tsats #tsats spoilers #the sun and the star #solangelo #nico di angelo #pjo #ed recovery #and yeah. with the writing at times i was like ahhh im too in-college for this book arent i #but at the same time it made me remember what it felt like to read these books when i was a kid #and im reading about this character ive loved since i was in 2nd or 3rd grade and it feels like ive grown up with him #and it feels like we went through our trauma together. i read house of hades the year my dad died. and now its like we're getting through it #idkgkdhjhf #that being said: i kind of wish the cocoa puffs came about in a different way!!#it kind of felt like SA and that wasn’t addressed

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n3xii · 10 months

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Energy for the week ahead

Hey! Today's pick a card focuses on the essence of your upcoming week, where you should be placing your energy and a message from your guide. Allow you intuition to guide you to an item and go to your pile <3 check my pinned post if you want a personal reading!!! I do them same day!

Pile one

Essence of this week- knight of wands reversed

Delays, setbacks, lack of motivation and energy. You may experience frustrations and blockages to forward movement that cause you to feel unmotivated and restiant to take action, but if you push through those feelings and do what you can to be proactive then this week will have a more positive outcome. Now is not a time to give into frustrations, motivate yourself and overcome setbacks.

What you should focus on- page of pentacles

This card is uniquely about gathering resources, planning, practicality and knowledge. Think about what you need that will help you set this week into motion, think about what resources you now need to sustain your energy. Focus on practicality and getting equipt with the information that will propel you forward with your goals. The delays or lack of energy can be combatted with preparation. Plan outfits and write lists, give yourself something to look forward to every morning so that you are accountable to waking up early.

Message from your guide- storm warning reversed

Your guide wants you to know that dark, stormy times are being you/falling away. You may feel unmotivated and lacking necessary energy because you're still trying to adjust to a new norm. Whether it was external or intenral mayters that were stirrring you up and casuing instability, your guides wants you to know moving forward that this week will be a good one, the bad times are falling behind you and things are improving.

Pile two

Essence of this week- 5 of pentacles reversed

Acceptance, healing, recovery. You're resoring what was lost and building yourself up again this week. This is a very positive and auspicious essence for the week.

What to focus on- the empress reversed

Your self confidence and ability to nurture yourself will be vital in the next few days. being connected to your "divine feminine" energy will help restore yourself by empowering you to be present and self compassionate. Creative activies such as drawing, painting, designing are fun ways to connect to feminine energy. Also relaxation, being around or even watching positive feminine figures on tv/YouTube as an influence on your energy. The point is connecting with divine feminine energy will unblock you emotionally and help you move forward with the healing process.

Message from your guide- forth chakra reversed

Your guide wants you to be aware that your heart chakra needs balancing and healing. Opening and expanding this energy is helpful in the healing process because it will help extend compassion towards yourself. This is very resonate of the empress message to be honest, but this just further affirms that you need to open your heart and be nurturing of yourself as you recover from what has been lost. Don't block emotions in an attempt to cope as this is creating an energetic inbalance. the vessel of your heart shouldn't only contain space for others but for yourself as well. This will enable emotions to flow and for love to enter and be given.

Pile three

Essence of this week- nine of swords

Worry, overthinking, insomnia, mental troubles, fear and being in your heads space too much

What you should focus on- high priestess reversed

You're anxious and worried because you don't trust yourself, you overthink because you don't listen to your intution. Anxious thoughts flutter and cloud the subtle, quiet nudge of your intution. reconnecting to that quiet, still part of yourself will immensely help you with your anxiety this week. Being passive and trusting the process will feel unnatural but its a matter of practice. When you overthink, you clutter your mind with thoughts that are loud, urgent, and often untrue, the focus of this week is to quiet your mind and retrain your senses to react to your intution and not the urgent, oppressive voice of anxiety. The high priestess is also about mysteries, you need to allow some things to be revealed over time, it is MORE THAN OK not to know everything right now and you are ok.

Message from your guide-appreciation reversed

The message from your guides is to re-center your thoughts to focus on what you're grateful for, fulfill yourself in what you already have instead of acknowledging what you don't have. Stop thinking about what your missing from life, what you need to do, what you're doing "wrong" and appreciate where you are right now. These fixations on what you wish you had instead of trusting your self are contributing to your anxiety.

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dairy-farmer · 5 months

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I need ClarkTim with babysitter Tim. Imagine during his early Robin days, Bruce is mad at Tim and tells him he needs to learn how to be responsible. The mistake was pretty minor but Bruce was all angsty and angry during those days. He tells Tim to go home and that he's suspended from work.

Bruce and Clark meet up later. Bruce vents about his reckless Robin. Clark knows his friend is in the wrong but he thinks it would be best if Robin and Batman to have some space for a while so that they could cool off and that Robin deserves to take a break from Gotham. He offers to help teach Robin some responsibility by making him babysit Jon. That's what his Ma and Pa would've done for him had his powers not pop up unexpectedly. Granted, he would've been 16 at that time and not 13. But Bruce agrees that it's a great idea.

So Tim shows up in their quaint apartment home in Metropolis just as he and Lois were about to leave for date night. Tim clearly doesn't want to do this but he was determined to prove Bruce wrong. It was quite a mess when they came back but it was not that bad for a 13 year old taking care of a 5 year old for the first time.

It becomes a thing where Bruce would send Tim over when he's mad at him. And it became an even more regular thing when Clark and Lois divorced and Bruce realized that Tim has a tendency to overwork himself and that kids shouldn't be vigilantes in the first place. Tim is still Robin but he doesn't come out every night now or doesn't fight crime at night for a long time since watching over Jon is a tiring task.

Clark sometimes miss Lois. There were days where Jon was just not having it and Clark dearly misses having a partner in crime. In those days, he's so grateful for the arrangement he made with Bruce. It was a relief to come home and not worry that Jon got hurt and is full and asleep in his bed. It made Clark's heart beat fast when he sees Tim working on a case next to Jon, all so serious. He has that same look that he gets when Lois was writing or reporting on an issue.

One night, the JL are having a bit of a get together. Tim is back at Clark's apartment watching over Jon so Clark decided he can let loose and get drunk. When he came back home, he finds Jon asleep in his own room. He went to check on Tim but he was so drunk that he found himself groping and soon humping his son's sleeping babysitter. It's been so long since he got laid. Tim has always been so good with Jon, can't he be good with this too?

-🦆

yessssssssssss clarktim is such a good one!!!! add in the whole 'babysitter' aspect and its soooo gooodd!!!!!!!!!

i really love the idea that bruce was not the easiest to deal with when tim started as robin and it ends up setting the tone or veering them towards a path that will cause problems in the future. bruce snapping at tim for being irresponsible definitely makes sense to me! bruce probably isn't thinking about how tim is only thirteen so of course he's irresponsible and he's also probably not considering about how if it were jason or dick in front of him he wouldn't have ripped into them the way he did to tim.

but it's a small thing, a thing that has no greater impact or effect that ends up setting bruce off the edge and he just yells at tim for it before sending him home for the night and telling him to not show his face for a few days because he was just so mad. and it's not what tim did that drove him to the edge, tim was just the unfortunate recipient of a lot of bottled up feelings because bruce had run into a case about homeless children in gotham being found frozen to death as snow melted around the city and his mind had gone to jason and about how he could've been one of them if bruce had not met him in the fall right before the weather turned chilly.

bruce has been more isolated since jason's death but tim had pushed him to reconnect with his colleagues and friends. given that he's been shunned from the cave tim takes to texting dick, asking if he could please check up on bruce because he's a bit upset with tim right now. but dick is busy and normally he'd follow through with the request because it was tim asking him. but he's traveling out of state for a case and can't so...dick calls clark. he asks clark to check on bruce because bruce still hasn't reached out much, miserable and angsty as he is. and clark jumps on the oppertuniy because he doesn't feel right just flying to gotham without an invitation but he's doing a favor for dick then it should be fine!

bruce doesn't really mean what he says about tim. calling him irresponsible and on some level he knows it's so utterly wrong to badmouth another cape to clark, especially one working under him and especially one so young but...bruce can't help it. he's just SO outraged and mad and in a few weeks he'll feel bad about everything he said and he'll grimace at his behavior and he'll do his best to make sure something like that never occurs again because tim hadn't deserved to be treated like that.

but in the moment clark nods and listens even if he internally frowns at bruce's words. clark hasn't met this new robin and he knows that bruce isn't like this normally and feels a pang of pity for this new robin to be dealing with this more volatile bruce. clark doesn't want to overstep. he knows it will do more damage than good so scolding bruce, telling him not to treat the 'poor kid' that way will just serve to alienate bruce farther and maybe even put the young robin into even more hot water with his boss....so clark considers what his parents would do if they were in his shoes.

bruce is clearly doing better than the last time clark has seen him. but...he's also clearly still struggling and maybe having his robin peeking over his shoulder is making him more tense than normal. and maybe the fact that his robin is on holiday break and spending more time in the manor with bruce also has something to do with it.

so...clark makes a proposition. he offers to help teach bruce's robin some lessons in responsibility, just something small like...babysitting. it's an age-appropriate task for someone like tim and he and lois were starved for a date night. raising a child in the city was hard given that clark's family was so far away and lois's family were in another state.

plus it's not like jon was a baby, at five he was perfectly capable of doing things like going potty, requesting snacks or juice, turning the tv on to his favorite channels, and reading simple books. thirteen may have been a little young and clark himself hadn't babysat a neighbor's kid since he was at least sixteen but- bruce agrees. he nods in agreement at the task and gets this tightened-jaw look when he says that maybe tim will learn some responsibility like this.

after that bruce shoos him away. bruce never gives a date tim will show up, doesn't discuss baby sitting rates, never brings up transportation but all that gets answered a few nights later when clark ominously recieves a text from bruce that says 'he's here.'

he and lois were still in their work clothes and had just had plans to order in some dinner when the knock on their door came.

apparently bruce dropped tim off just outside the city with some vague directions to clark and lois's apartment. tim had just learned he'd been volunteered to babysit and that this was his punishment for his behavior a few days ago. clark cringed at tim's words and felt a bit guilty at the resigned look on the robin's face. lois peeked over clark's shoulder and he saw her eyes sparkle in interest at tim's explanation for his presence.

despite tim's clear displeasure clark does his best to be friendly as he shows tim to a small printed out list on the refridgerator of all their emergency numbers before introducing him to jon who seems very curious about this new stranger.

for the first time in...years he and lois go out on a date. lois seems very content to enjoy her chinese food in a restaurant in peace without having to continue returning jon to his seat because he kept trying to speed over to the tv to watch his show. still clark can't help but think about tim and how he's doing. he keeps an ear open to listen as tim teaches jon some memory game and as a result keeps missing what lois is saying.

when clark had opened the door from tim's knocking he....he'd admit that he'd blinked a little in shock because tim was A LOT smaller than clark had been expecting. tim had long, dark curtain bangs and big blue eyes with fluttery lashes. his small pout had been visible with pink, full lips and he'd had his arms crossed across his chest while dressed in a black metal band t-shirt and brown cargo pants. he'd looked painfully normal. like every other moody teenager clark passed on the street and knowing he was robin really sent clark's brain for a loop.

the night ends quite uneventfully and by the time clark and lois return jon is already in bed and tim is quietly sitting on the couch glaring down at his phone where he's furiously typing.

while lois heads to bed clark decides to walk tim back out the city limits because even though this was a punishment and tim was likely more than capable of taking care of himself, clark didn't feel it right to send a kid to walk out on metropolis streets all alone when it was after midnight.

the walk is silent but eventually clark manages to get tim venting about bruce and all his jerky ways and how he volunteered tim to be an unpaid babysitter as some kind of "lesson".

"no offense mr. kent" tim quickly offered, soft round cheeks blossoming to pink with embarrassment.

"none taken." clark softly assures the teen while frowning internally at bruce. clark had suggested babysitting as a good way to learn responsibility because it had been what he'd done. but clark had also been paid. sure it had only been ten bucks but that had been enough for him to feel accomplished and mature. it had made him feel grown up to have done a real job and received recognition for it. it was one thing if tim was made to babysit as a punishment but making him do it without a reward or payment would just teach tim that adults could make him do anything they wanted and he couldn't complain. clark knew he'd blown the last of his cash on dinner with lois so instead he fumbled for the fortune cookies he'd stuffed in his pocket earlier and pathetically offered it to tim with a sheepish thanks.\

thankfully tim doesn't do that crinkle-browed expression of irritation that bruce does sometimes. he takes clark's sad offering and begins thoughtfully chewing on one of the cookies while staring down at the little fortune slip he'd gotten from cracking it open.

"it wasn't all that bad," tim softly offered, "jon's a cute kid and i liked hanging out with him."

at that clark smiled and agreed before slowing to a stop beside the 'welcome to metroplis!' billboard.

a dark, black car was parked on the side of the road and tim let out a put upon sigh when it flashed its headlights at them. clark gave a jaunty wave and the car angrily revved in response. tim sighed and started off at a jog, turning back to yell a thanks to clark for walking with him.

clark watches them both go, not even flinching when bruce's disguised batmobile does an illegal u-turn on the empty street.

for the rest of the month he and lois have a somewhat steady babysitter, something lois is grateful for so they can both pull some late nights at the planet since tim is in charge of picking jon up from elementary school and taking him back to the apartment to do his homework, then to feed him dinner, and then put him to bed.

the first time tim picked jon up from school he'd picked the lock to their apartment because lois kept forgetting to put the spare key back under the mat because she kept losing her set. after that happened again a few more times clark ended up making tim a copy of the apartment key, sliding it to him and asking him to promise not to tell lois because she'd feel guilty at having locked them both out.

(plus clark hadn't wanted to rehash the whole housekey argument about lois forgetting, losing, always needing clark to drop what he was doing and speed back for the one little thing)

a few times tim acts as an overnight babysitter for them because clark has been called off planet and lois doesn't want to have to drop out of yet another conference where she's a key speaker.

clark is grateful to have tim, lois is as well.

but then bruce works through whatever issue he was having with tim and the two of them lose their favorite (only) sitter. it's not easy getting a sitter for jon. he's young and although he hasn't shown any signs yet clark doesn't want to risk jon's powers potentially manifesting when a random teenager is in the house. jon is also yet unaware that his father is superman (as much as he loves him clark knows how children are with secrets). having tim provided much needed relief for clark and lois and losing him throws a bit of a wrench in their routines.

clark knows he and lois have been having...issues. neither of them are as young as they used to be and the problems of their youth seem so far away with new concerns. as dumb 20-somethings neither of their egos had clashed or been points of contention but...now...lois is missing opportunities because clark can't be there to pick up the slack. lois is being offered the opportunity to be an investigative journalist on a team looking to expose deep-veined corruption overseas. it's a job that would take her out of metropolis for months at a time. but sometimes superman is called out of the city as well. sometimes he spends days away in foreign countries offering relief aid with natural disasters, sometimes the justice league needs to send him and a few other heavy hitters off planet. and if lois takes that job then...who will watch jon? they can't drop him off at his parent's house. what about his schooling? plus clark's parents are older, more fragile. they can't be running around after a five year old all the time. why don't lois's parents move closer? it might make it easier on the family. well they can't do that for the same reason they can't have a normal sitter. the same reason lois can't befriend the other moms at jon's school and the same reason that the only friends lois has are clark's friends.

occasionally bruce will have a fight with tim. they'll butt heads for one reason or another and he and lois will have a babysitter again and it will soothe away some of the arguments they'd been having. soon bruce seems to pull his head a bit out of his ass and makes it so tim is only patrolling a certain number of times a month. it frees up more of his time and pretty soon tim is not a rare sight in their apartment, occasionally even spending days there when he and lois are both taken out of the city. but they're reassured with the fact that tim is present to take care of jon and watch over him to make sure he doesn't get hurt.

maybe having tim around delays the inevitable but at some point over the years, he and lois can no longer put it off.

the divorce does not bring great relief or happiness. it's a miserable affair. clark does love lois and she him but...they're not twenty anymore. they've grown apart and they want different things and...it just wasn't working. any longer and they would've grown to hate each other and neither of them wanted that.

but clark is now 37 and divorced with primary custody of his son. it was decided that it was best that jon remain with clark and in metropolis since lois would be moving around a lot. lois sets off to war-torn countries and politically tense situations having finally accepted the offer from a group of journalists. she calls often and face times jon weekly but its clear to anyone that jon takes their separation and eventual divorce hard.

clark makes a deal with bruce following a night that bruce invites him into his office at the manor for a drink. tim by that point was basically the only person clark trusted enough to watch his kid so it was decided that when the justice league needed to send him somewhere or some major disaster was occurring at the other side of the planet- then bruce would drop tim off at clark's apartment to watch jon.

anything else probably would've made jon's recent behavior problems worse. jon knew tim so he wouldn't catch an attitude with him like he had with his teachers and classmates. clark knew that it was because of the divorce that jon was acting out, throwing tantrums, and refusing to listen to him because of that...but it still didn't make it any easier.

tim being present makes it easier. without lois a lot of the load for maintaining the household falls to him now that she's gone. clark now has to go to work, clock out in time so he can race to the grocery store, the bank, the dry cleaners. clark has to make sure he's getting jon's favorite foods so that they don't end up sitting on the shelves, clark has to remember to send the mortgage check, to pay utilities on the first of every month.

it's a lot. and it's easier to know that by the time clark crawls through the door that jon's homework will be done, that he'll have eaten dinner, that the apartment will be cleaned up with dishes put away, and that jon will be curled up and asleep by his bedtime.

clark thanks his lucky stars that jon looks up to tim and listens to him. he might be the only one jon actually obeys and clark is thinking about begging tim to know his secret.

sometimes clark is early arriving back home and he walks into an apartment where dinner is still cooking in the oven and jon and tim are quietly working side by side at the living room table while the tv plays some boring news station.

jon is intently focused on his phonics workbook and tim is zeroed in on about half a dozen case files spread around him while furiously typing on his laptop. there's a cooling mug of honey tea on one coaster and a glass of blue raspberry kool-aid on another.

it's a sight that makes clark's chest hurt at the memory of lois doing something the similar. tim bites down on his bottom lip and has a furrow between his brow as he glares down at his case just like she does when she's encountered something particularly difficult.

clark savors the dinners of when he gets home early. often times tim will make a roast of some kind. either chicken or beef along with some vegetables. other times he'll make a pasta dish or some fish. a few times he makes an excellent meatloaf. apparently tim had requested cooking lessons from alfred because he hadn't wanted to only make jon mac and cheese or frozen dinners.

usually he and lois would order food or settle for frozen meals. it's...nice to come home to a home-cooked dinner just like when he was a kid. jon also seems to adore it, cleaning his plate of everything tim makes even things he'd insisted that he hated.

"i thought you didn't like peas?" clark softly asked, a fond smile tugging at his lips as jon shoveled them into his mouth by the spoonful.

"i like these peas," jon huffed, turning pink, "these peas taste good."

whenever jon got a tv dinner with peas he'd pout and whine until either clark or lois scraped them off his mashed potatoes and onto their own trays. but tim's peas were happily eaten with gusto.

clark helps tim clean and wash up while jon watches his cartoons having already finished his homework. having someone beside him...quietly working while the radio on top of the microwave played classic rock...it was...nice. it did a good job of healing some of that aching loneliness in clark's chest. it wasn't just that he missed lois, he missed...the companionship, having someone at his side cracking jokes or snickering at clark's obliviousness.

clark misses that closeness, that familiarity, the feeling of another person beside him.

tim is a nice fixture in his and jon's life and clark doesn't want to ruin that by...by making it weird and talking about how tim reminds clark of his wife.

tim starts talking about possibly taking jon to the park the next time he comes by because jon seems a little pent up being stuck in the apartment all day and clark's brain leaps on the distraction to pull away from his thoughts and the hyper awareness he feels at every brush of tim's bare arm against the skin from clark's rolled up sleeves.

something ends up happening in gotham and tim is gone for weeks and in that time things with jon spill over. jon ends up breaking several dinner plates when he throws a tantrum over not wanting pizza again even though clark hadn't had time to cook after rushing to pick jon up from after-school care. clark loses his temper and ends up sending jon to his room without dinner which makes jon breakdown crying.

clark cleans up the mess in the kitchen, sweeping up glass and throwing out the flipped over box of pizza. he doesn't notice he's crying until he wipes his hands on his shirt and goes to push back his hair only to feel the warm tears on his cheeks.

clark is not adjusting well to single parenthood. he thinks of calling lois before remembering that it's the middle of the night in her time zone. he thinks of calling his parents before pushing it away because they'd just want to come and see him, but the drive would be too much for pa.

clark stands in that empty kitchen, listening to his child muffle their sobs into their pillow before he picks up the cordless phone hanging on the wall and dialing a number he knows by heart.

it's probably incredibly inappropriate, clark is probably crossing several boundaries, he might even strain his relationship with tim by burdening him with his struggles as a parent but....but tim knows jon and...and clark is just so lost and desperate for any kind of help. jon's on the verge of getting suspended, clark has already had to beg the principal for leniency twice.

tim picks up and he and clark spend several hours on the phone once he hears the emotion in clark's voice. by the end clark has a list of therapists in the metropolis area to call in the morning and he learns that tim, as a kid, had struggled with his own resentful feelings towards his parents because they'd often leave him home alone or in the care of a nanny or ship him off to boarding school. tim had struggled for a long time about his feelings of resentment towards his parents and wanting them to go away while also wanting them to come back and be with him.

in the morning clark apologizes to jon for raising his voice and promises not to do it again while also telling him that his behavior the night before hadn't been acceptable and that he could've hurt himself or tim if he'd been there. jon's eyes well up with tears and clark holds him while saying that jon's having a tough time and that he's so sorry that he hadn't helped him sooner.

a few more weeks later and jon has settled into weekly therapy appointments to help him cope with his parent's divorce. lois is saddened to hear about jon's freakout that prompted it but seems happy to hear that clark has decided to get him into therapy.

clark doesn't mention about how it had been tim's idea, stemming from tim musing that he wished he'd have gotten therapy as a child to deal with his parent's frequent absence in his life. he doesn't know why he doesn't tell her or anyone about that phone call with tim that had dragged on late into the night. it's not like clark had done anything...wrong.

but still clark doesn't mention it. not even to bruce who he shares monitor duty for the next week. it probably would've been wise. to let bruce know that clark had called his robin on the phone late at night and spent hours on the line with him. but he hadn't

a little while later tim returns to babysitting duties. every night before he leaves to go back to gotham he quietly asks if clark is okay, leaning in close with a low whisper and asking clark if everything is alright. that night...on the phone...tim had wanted clark to promise that he'd call tim if he ever felt overwhelmed again.

bruce had relegated tim to desk work when he wasn't out on patrol so it's not as though it would be some great sacrifice for tim to come over and help him out.

clark had thought about it but...but he hadn't wanted to take advantage of tim. tim already did so much for him. including beginning to freeze dinners for him and jon. clark returns home one night to find jon and tim intently focused on spooning, cutting, wrapping, and stacking various dishes into different tupperwares to be frozen. clark watches with wide eyes as tim points to the various tubs explaining how clark only needs to reheat the food or stick it in the oven for a nice hot home cooked meal when tim's not around.

tim even premakes sandwiches for him and jon to take to school and to work. a cubicle neighbor raises a brow at clark's bacon, pear, and fig sandwich on artisan bread.

"you get yourself a girlfriend kent?"

the questions makes clark flounder because it was true that tim did a lot of things that were....girlfriend-like. but the question just has him turning red and sputtering.

after a while clark starts getting the hang of it. he asks perry for a list of different positions at the planet aside from a field reporter and eventually applies for an internal position that will allow him to work from home some weeks and only have to go into the office a handful of days. clark sets up an account at the grocery store and prepays in advance to have his groceries delivered to his door. clark switches to an online bank and arranges for all his bills to be automatically withdrawn from his account. clark starts taking a more active role in his home, trying to vacuum up visible dust, cleaning plates when he sees them, and doing a load of laundry or dirty towels before the pile gets too big. clark even starts making jon's breakfast and lunch for him now that he's not rushing them both out the door in the morning.

clark, for the first time, starts to feel like he's in control ever since the divorce. he even signs jon up for soccer, organizing a carpool with the other moms who sympathize with him about being a solo parent.

clark joins the pta, volunteers for the annual bake sale, attends jon's games.

by the time tim returns for the next cycle of babysitting clark is blushing while carefully serving him and jon some casserole (ma's signature recipe). jon excitedly tells tim all about his teammates and games and about how dad had even promised to sign up jon for swimming when the summer came!

tim is smiling and clark can see the happiness in tim's eyes as jon happily reports everything that's happened these last few weeks.

once jon goes to bed clark is excited to tell tim about all the changes he's made. clark hasn't even gotten around to telling bruce or lois about the job change but for some reason he really wants tim to know he's doing better. that he's not that crying father calling him for help.

it's not always smooth sailing. sometimes jon gets into one of his moods and sometimes clark has a busy week but it always works out in the end and tim is always a relief to see.

maybe it's the fact that clark is finally...comfortable that he accepts the invitation to the justice league mixer. mixers are usually light hearted get-togethers with food, laughs, and lots of alcohol. thanks to bruce and oliver this means clark and the others get to sample some really nice alcohol and none of that cheap stuff they all consumed in college. tim is babysitting for clark that night and is even going to be staying the night since he and bruce are in another cold war (how someone could ever fight with someone as great as tim clark had no idea!). and this is the first-night clark has had to himself in a while so...he lets loose. normally it takes a lot of alcohol for clark to get drunk but awhile back bruce had reverse engineered a poison compound that amplified alcohol in his system by 100. now he offered it in the form of a pill to clark in the bathroom, passing it over to him with sleight of hand like he was a fratboy offering ecstasy to an initiate.

clark gets wonderfully drunk, the stage of drunk where everything is hilarious and the world is tilted a little to the right. the stage of drunk where his head is all floaty and he feels like he's flying even though his feet are on the ground.

it's the middle of the night by the time the party has fizzled out and many of the leaguers have claimed chairs or passed out on training mats if they haven't made it to the dorms at the tower. the beds at the tower are too narrow for clark to comfortably sprawl so he says slurred goodbyes to a passed out green lantern and flash, waves to diana who is smiling and pleased with the company of all her friends, and slides past bruce who is pretending to not be drunk as he leans against a wall. clark flys back to metropolis slowly and careful not to bump into any buildings before entering through his bedroom window he left unlocked.

like a toddler with uncoordinated hands, clark strips out of his suit and leaved it as a pile on the floor until he's only in his boxers, the open window blowing in a soft city breeze. with light feet, clark tiptoes to his bedroom door and pushes it open to reveal the darkened highway. before settling to bed he just wants to make everything is order.

the smoke detector is working, the oven is off, the water isn't running, the front door and windows in the rest of the apartment are locked, and everyone is in bed.

jon is curled into a sweet little ball in his room. there's a half empty glass of water on his bedside table and all his toys are put away so that the floor of his room is clear. clark wants to stumble over and press a kiss to his baby's head but he doesn't trust himelf to not stumble and face plant on the carpet and just sleep there.

but clark has one more person to check up on.

when he and lois had shared a home the extra room at the end of the hall had been their home office. but once they'd divorced, clark had decided to downsize since most of the things in the office lois had either taken with her or sold before leaving to go abroad. clark had gotten rid of the big vanity and dresser in his and lois's bedroom and gotten a corner desk and rolling chair to serve as his bedroom office.

that freed up the home office to be turned into a guest room.

clark pushed open the cracked door, likely so jon could crawl into tim's bed in case of a nightmare, and stared at tim who was laid out on the full sized bed. tim was in a pair of volleyball shorts and a long hudson college shirt that stopped mid thigh. the shirt was riding up revealing a smooth stomach which had something in clark going warm.

maybe clark wouldn't have done it if the alcohol in his blood hadn't given him the courage. maybe clark thought it was okay because he and lois had done this once upon a time. where lois would pretend to be asleep and clark, the sexless farmboy, would come and and squeeze her thigh and lightly tug on the ends of her clothes.

only that clark doesn't lightly touch tim or tease his delicate skin.

clark hasn't had sex in well over two years because towards the end of his relationship with lois they had completely shut each other out. that must be why clark quietly stumbles in, letting the door softly click closed behind him as he took slow, shuffling steps forward until he was standing beside tim.

clark's fingers wrapped around the bottom of tim's shirt and pushed it all the way up to reveal little soft tits that had clark biting down on his bottom lip. a flash of heat coursed through his gut at the sight of puffy tits and soft, rosy nipples.

god. clark could feel the arousal already beginning to swirl in him from just looking.

it's not like clark was fully chaste despite what others might believe. just before the divorce clark had started watching porn on his phone and quietly jacking off in the bathroom just before joining lois in bed. but he'd stopped abruptly and hadn't touched himself since.

but why had he?- oh that's right!

there'd been this one porno clark had stumbled across. it'd been one where the girl was this skinny little thing in a tiny little skirt with pretty lips and a pixie cut.

she'd been pretty with a puffy, wet, pink pussy but that's not what had gotten clark off. it had been the scenario. she'd been playing as the babysitter for this one older man who hadn't had money to pay her for her time because his wife had the checkbook but that was alright because she was more than willing to accept another form of payment: cock.

clark had remembered how hard he'd been breathing as a delicate little pussy furiously rode the nice hard cock of a dad who was grunting and playing with her tits while asking "you're not going to tell my wife about this are you?"

that line was what had clark grunting and spilling his release into his palm while his heart pumped faster and faster.

minutes after his orgasm horror and disgust had flooded clark at the realization that he'd gotten undeniably aroused at....baby sitter porn. and the girl he'd masturbated to...had held a similar resemblance to tim...

clark had been so ashamed he had refused to touch himself at all afterward. he'd thrown himself into his work and then his divorce, completely neglecting his manly needs until he was kneeled beside his son's baby sitter and playing with his tits.

both of clark's hands were cupping tim's little tits, admiring his rosy nipples and gently squeezing the soft flesh. clarks hands practically covered tim's entire chest. the flesh was soft and warm and clark felt the urge to lean down and start kissing the little tits, taking one into his mouth and suckling the tit until tim woke up to the sight of clark nursing on him.

clark was only in underwear and he could feel as his cock swelled with arousal more and more the longer he fondled tim. one hand clark had been resting on tim's abdomen stroked down tim's stomach. two fingers kept pressing and slid between the natural seam of tim's crotch and clark felt himself go lightheaded when he felt tim's pussy lips part for him under the fabric.

god. clark's cock was forming a prominent tent in his underwear and he shivered as he pushed up from where he was kneeling and placed a knee on the bed, then another, and then clark threw a leg over to tim's other side and stood kneeling over him, straddling his smaller body.

clark could see tim's beautifully exposed tits and his little shorts that were hiding no doubt the prettiest little cunt in existence.

jesus, clark was so horny. clark felt like a starving man placed before a buffet, he had no idea where to start, what to touch, where to kiss first.

all he knew was that he desperately wanted to fuck tim. he needed it like he needed air. he needed to feel tim's hands, his mouth, his pussy on his cock. he needed to pump himself deep inside tim, fuck his cock all the way in his womb. he needed to feel tim's hips fuck back against his thrusts and have his arms cling around clark's neck. he needed to hear tim gasp and moan and whine as clark played with his clit and fucked him through a trembling orgasm.

god. tim was such a good kid he'd probably let clark do all of that. he helped clark with jon, with cooking, with being a parent- why not this?

clark's sure that if he asks really really nice tim will let him at least touch him, maybe even eat him out (clark wonders what tim's pussy tastes like, if it's as sweet as he is).

he might even feel pity for clark once he finds out clark hasn't had sex in over two years. maybe he'll even spread himself open for clark, spread the lips of his pussy open in a 'V' and reveal his wet little hole for clark. god that would be magnificent.

clark doesn't even notice that his cock has started to throb and pulse painfully at every thought and that his hips have began to seek relief.

clark's covered cock begins grinding against tim's crotch in slow, purposeful drags. clark makes light sounds and hums as he presses all along the length of tim's cunt.

clark is in the middle of 'hmp hmph hmph' sounds when tim shifts a little under him and then rapidly blinks his eyes, pupils dilating with alertness as he takes stock of the situation.

clark is pulled out of his hazy fantasies and touching with tim's slightly sleepy call of "clark?"

clarks hands are still fondling and squeezing tim's tits as he ruts against him, as soon as he looks down and his eyes meet tim's- tim's brows shoot up with surprise and some realization. his nose wrinkles slightly and clark thinks he must smell the alcohol on his breath or maybe that spilled scotch someone had accidentally sloshed on him when clark was mixing drinks because during college he'd worked as a bartender for some extra cash and so every party he was the designated mixer.

"clark, are you...drunk?" tim tilts his head slightly, honest confusion on his expression as he stares up at clark. he says nothing about clark's hand on his tits or his other hand playing with the edge of tim's shorts.

clark makes a humming noise, he's considering lying but he knows tim would probably figure him out so he settles for soulfully nodding.

tim's eyes are still big with brows raised but he hasn't done anything about clark's hands on his chest so clark takes that as permission to keep squeezing and rolling puffy nipples between his fingers.

"is that why you're touching me right now?"

clark makes another noise and nods with an 'mm-hmm'.

clark is so horny and touching tim isn't really enough to get off and clark's cock is full and hurts so bad so clark snaps his hips a little to jostle tim and make him pay attention to clark's cock. maybe he'll do something to fix it. tim is really good at that.

clark's thrust indeed catches tim's attention and his eyes dart down to where clark's cock is almost straining out of his underwear. there's a big wet patch around where the head is and he's pressing as close as he can to tim's pussy.

tim stares down at it for a beat, his head off the pillow and straining to look down the length of his body where he and clark are meeting. tim's eyes go bug-eyed like he's just realized that clark is hard and rutting against him.

"o-oh clark, my god- oh shit you're hard, like actually hard,"

clark makes a noise of agreement and tries sticking two fingers under the waist band of tim's shorts to roll them down and rut against tim's hot, bare pussy. tim's hands dart down and wrap around clark's wrist, stopping him.

"clark," tim begins slowly, voice calm and soothing like he's talking to a child. "don't you want to go to someone else for this? how about another cape? or lois even, even if you're divorced i don't think it's a bad thing, my parents were separated and still shared a bed-"

the thought of lois or anyone else being with him makes clark want to shrivel up. no, he doesn't want them. he wants tim who is always so nice and sweet to jon and now clark wants him to be nice and sweet to him too.

clark shakes his head and does his best to talk without slurring while tugging slightly on tim's waistband.

"n-no. jus you, wan you, wan tim, please? please tim?"

tim's eyes don't like like they could widen anymore. he's red like a strawberry and clark wants to lean down and kiss his cute heated cheeks.

"i'm fuck-" clark can barely get a sentence out, "i'm wanna fuck, please? please tim?"

clark is SOOO drunk and horny. he presses his cock closer and makes a little insistent sound and hopes tim will have pity on him. if he'll just let clark stick it in just for a little bit. clark's balls are so fucking blue and he doesn't think he'll be able to handle remaining aroused for much longer. if tim pushes him away clark might actually cry.

tim purses his lips and stares down at where clark has their core pressed together. his mouth opens to say something and-

"i...we..." tim's eyes dart back up to meet clark and something in his expression shifts because tim's eyes darken and he starts biting down on his fat bottom lip. "we're going to need to be quiet clark, okay? jon's sleeping."

with that, tim immediatly stops fidgiting. he lifts his hips up and off the bed in a bridge stretch, pushing clark slightly away in the process, and slides his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts before swiftly pulling them down to his knees and then his ankles, leaving him bare. clark can feel the bunched up shorts somewhere near his ankles but that's not what he's paying attention to.

clark sits and stares in stunned silence as tim's legs part to reveal a pretty pink slit with a small, dark trail of hair lightly covering the area. it's just a bit of light peach fuzz but clark is enamored with the sight. he presses a gentle hand against tim's mound, stroking the soft skin and biting back a groan at tim's pretty little pussy lips framing his hole.

tim settles his feet on the bed, bending his knees and placing each foot on either side of clark's hips. he stares up at clark with crystal clear blue eyes and motions to clark's underwear.

"do you want my help to take off your underwear or do you think you can do it?"

tim's question brings clark out of his shocked staring and he meets tim's inquisitive eyes for a moment before he's fumbling for his underwear and hastily pushing it down while swaying with the dizziness from the alcohol.

"i-i can do it, i can do it-"

clark is stuttering and he manages, after a few minutes of trying to fling his underwear away. in his excitement he's nearly fallen off the bed a few times but each time tim softly catches him and steadies him. on clark's final attempt, tim wraps a hand around clarks upper back and slowly guides him down until he's hovering over tim.

tim is redder than crushed tomato as he fumbles with both of them fitting together and getting comfortable. clark is so excited to have sex that he obeys tim's every instruction and adjustment without thought.

one of clarks hands is braced on the pillow above tim's head while the other has a steadying grip on his cock. one of tim's hands starts gently stroking the side of clark's cheek. some attempt to soothe them both and then eventually he's whispering soft instructions to him that clark finds himself eagerly following.

"j-just rub the head against it okay?" tim begins, pink lips next to clark's ear. his breath hitches as clark listens, pressing the thick head of his cock against tim's slit. clark feels a bit of wetness cover the head and shivers as tim continues talking. "j-just up and down all along it, just the head- y-yes like that, good. mmmn yeah, just, just the head so i can get wet-" tim's breath starts hitching as clark grinds close. the head of his cock gets pressed to his clit and clark makes sure to press little circle against it, watching tim's abdominals clench and his breathing stutter. clark may be drunk but he does have his hearing and he can hear the slick, wet, sticky noises of tim's cunt as clark grinds his cock against that little pink clit. "p-press it in a little more, yes like that good job clark. k-keep doing, the little circles, y-yea, like you're tracing the letter 'O'- perfect, now keep hhnnn haah hhhahhn going clark-"

tim is squirming slightly under him, his hips inch up to meet clark's cock and clark can hear the slight rock of spring under them as he shifts his weight forward to press deeper into tim.

clark is breathing hard and tim's gentle instruction in his ear is helping so much to remember what he's supposed to be doing. clark is groaning softly because the head of his cock is being kissed by warm velvety heat. tim is telling him not to press to in deep yet that they can do that later but right now tim just wants clark to cum on him, can he do that? can clark cum on tim's pussy for him? it's to make the slide much easier later on that's what clark wants right? he wants to fuck tim's pussy doesn't he? he wants to sink in all the way deep into tim and cum really deep doesn't he? he wants to feel tim go all tight and hot around him right? well this is how they do it, with clark rubbing his cock up and down along tim's cunt until he cums.

clark is breathing hard and grunting as tim talks to him. he speeds up, grinds harder, and makes little noises at the tightening pleasure in his gut.

the orgasm comes faster than clark is anticipating. he's grinding his cock all along tim's soaked folds, tim is humming and making sweet sounds against his ear and clark can feel the tips of tim's little fingers from where he's rubbing at his clit, brush against his cock when suddenly clark's back goes tight and he freezes from where his cock is slotted between the lips of tim's pussy. he cums in thick spurts, the white cum pooling thickly between tim's lips like glue. tim makes a soft, shaky sound. clark can hear where his heart is going a mile a minute and he hears how tim's pussy is clenching so hard around nothing and leaking spurts of wetness. tim makes a noise of approval and presses a soft kiss to clark's jaw telling him he did a 'good job'.

clark shivers at the praise and lets tim's hands guide him onto his back. clarks erection doesn't flag the slightest bit and clark can already feel that his cock is full and ready to go. god he wants to fuck tim. he wants to fuck him so bad.

tim settles over him, straddling clark's hips and pressing his cum covered pussy to clark's cock. clark stares up at him with hazy eyes, watching as tim crosses his arms and grips the bottom edge of his shirt, lifting it up and tossing it to the side. tim is now on his lap fully naked and clark squirms and whines at the sight while tim presses a soothing hand to clark's chest.

"it's okay clark, it's okay, i know, do you want to fuck me? would that make you feel better?"

clark feels like tim's talking to him like he's a kid but not in a condescending way. his eyes are earnest as he asks clark. he picks up one of clark's hands and presses it to his chest, letting clark squeeze his tit while clark drowsily nods and slurs his words.

"y-yeah, nnmmp i wanna fuck, i wanna fuck tim i-i'm sorry but i really need it i-i juss- i just really need it,"

clark is seeing doubles but that doesn't matter because he feels tim's small palm wrap around his cock and steady it. he feels tim's hips lift up and hover over it. clark with his super hearing can hear quick, fast, squishy noises and knows instinctively that tim has fingers in his pussy. he can can hear them straining for room, opening and pressing against tim's walls, pressing in deeper, searching as they thrust in and out while tim huffs under his breath.

clark knows he's big. he knows it's probably going to be a struggle to fit inside tim. but tim also seems to know what he's doing. back when they were rutting together clark could hear tim have an orgasm and as he fucked himself on his fingers, clark heard that familiar tightening of his pussy and his stuttered breathing again. tim was trying to get even wetter and looser in preparation to take clark. tim was taking careful measures to make it good for both of them and clark shivered in anticipation for it.

still, clark hears tim's whine and sees his jaw fall open as he starts sinking down on clark. he stops several times, taking a moment to adjust before continuing forward. clark does his best to lie still, using all his drunk self-control to not thrust up and into tim's trembling cunt that is slowly swallowing down his cock until tim's wet, shaking cunt is split open and kissing the base of clark's cock. tim is trembling all around clark, his cunt squeezing and going tight around him with effort.

clark can feel his eyes have rolled to the back of his skull as he just lies there with his mouth open feeling hot, tight, pussy around his cock. it's only when tim slowly starts bouncing and riding him that clark finally lets out his pent up grunts and moans. tim cums once while bouncing on him and his pussy has the slightest more give. around the second or third is when the slide is much easier and tim is frantically fucking him, whining from overstimulation but continuing to fuck clark like his life depended on it.

clark's hands are gripping the sheets under them and trying to resist grabbing tim's hips and sinking him until he was cumming so deep tim would be leaking him for days.

but a few moments later tim is slowing and then stopping. clark peeked his eyes open and saw tim staring down at clark's trembling hands before shifting his gaze to clark's furrowed brows and strained expression.

"oh!" tim said with a vague hint of realization. "do you want to be on top?"

clark doesn't even make a sound and he's pretty sure he uses superspeed as he flips tim over on his back, hooks his knees over his shoulders, and just. starts. fucking.

clark is clenching his jaw tight enough to turn granite into powder. all his self-control is being directed into the cock that is viciously fucking into a reddened cunt. tim is completely bent in half, his breath is coming out in broken wheezes and cut off gasps. his brows are furrowed, his eyes are closed, and his mouth his fallen completely open letting out incomprehensible words and sounds of-

"ah ahh hhn gah-! of fuck i-hah hahnn gnnnk hnnnnmmmmn gah gah ghahhhnn- shiii clark, mmmmn clark i- ah! hmmmnnn-!"

clark's favorite sound is his name getting pounded out of tim as his wonderfully tight cunt goes tight around him again. tim whines a sound that is so high pitched it echoes on the walls around them. clark's cock starts pulsing and throbbing and god, fuck- that's what clark was waiting for.

clark manages to make two more pumps into tim before he's stilling and groaning, feeling his guts clench tight and release into the pussy clamping down all around him. clark had wanted to cum with tim orgasming all around him. with his drunk state he'd been slightly off in the timing but still manged to listen to the glorious sound of his cum and tim's release getting mixed together as clark idely humped into tim.

tim is breathing hard under him and clark's vision keeps going in and out as he purrs with the satisfaction of nice, heart pumping sex.

it truly had been far too long because clark feels like he could die happy just like this.

zod could break through that brick wall that very moment and clark would have no regrets going out buried in a nice, tight, pussy.

tim starts playing with clark's hair, stroking his cheek with a thumb, and lightly running his nails down clark's back and that's just the cherry on top.

clark allows the pleasant feelings to hypnotize him and lull him to sleep.

when clark wakes up he's stone cold sober. no hangover as is the benefits of having a kryptonian metabolism.

the night before hits clark like a missle to the chest. the memory of being horny and aroused, of going into tim's room and feeling him up, the memory of the baby sitter porno, the fact that clark had fucked tim the night before.

it doesn't help that clark wakes up with morning wood pressed deep inside tim.

clark freaks out. of course he does because he may have just irrevocably destroyed a great relationship with a wonderful kid. he may have just forced himself onto a kid. he's crossed a line he can't go back on. bruce had trusted him, he'd trusted clark and what had clark gone and done?

oh clark would never forgive himself for doing this to tim. for doing this to jon.

he should've worked out his pathetic divorcee loneliness like any other person but instead he'd gotten attached to a young boy who'd just been lending him a helping hand and exploited that tender care and love tim held for clark.

clark is close to hyperventilating and that's when tim wakes up.

tim helps him calm down which makes it worse because tim should be trying to get away from him. clark had gone into his room in the middle of the night, tim had woken up to clark groping and rutting against him-

tim strokes clark's messy bed head and tells him that it's alright, that it's okay to be a little confused following a drinking binge but tim's here to tell him that he didn't do anything wrong the night before.

people don't drink to excess because they're happy so it's understandable that clark sought out some comfort from the only person in the house who could give it. it was alright, tim understood.

clark has no idea what to say as tim helps him up.

tim shrugs off clark coming onto him in the middle of the night like it's nothing. like that's just something to roll with the punches or something.

clark is thinking of saying something, of interrupting when tim does first.

"but doing this while jon is just down the hall is a little too high risk for me." tim makes a kind of sheepish expression while looking at his closed bedroom door. "so next time why don't we do this while he's at school or at soccer practice, okay?"

tim is smiling at him in that same gentle way he always does. in that way that makes clark feel like everything is under control and will be okay.

it's a horrible idea. it's an absolutely terrible idea because last night was just a moment of weakness on clark's part. if he agrees to fuck tim...during the day then he will be making a deliberate choice to do this.

...if it got out, if bruce found out that clark was fucking tim....clark might never see the light of day again.

but...if he doesn't...then all that loneliness all that soul aching desire would just build up again and who knows if jon would be woken up in the middle of the night by strange sounds coming from tim's room. jon was a curious child and he's get up to investigate and that would end with jon getting traumatized seeing his father and beloved babysitter together.

clark knows what he's telling himself is bullshit, that he's spinning some justification in his head to make it all okay but...clark can't find the part in himself that is supposed to stop this, that is supposed tell himself he doesn't want this. it's the part that is supposed to grasp tim's shoulders and apologize so sincerely for doing what he did, that it was wrong and that clark had violated the trust tim had given him.

oh god. clark was living the plot of a cheesy porno.

clark just sits on the edge of the bed stunned while tim picks up his underwear, shorts, and shirt, slipping them on. he presses clark's underwear to his hands and whispers that he's going to start jon's breakfast before pressing a lingering kiss to clark's temple.

this was screwed up. massively screwed up. it was a million shades of wrong and fucked up and yet...some dark and selfish part of clark couldn't help but be relieved. because this meant he could have tim like this. he could rid himself of that desperate clawing loneliness and give into the offer of companionship tim was offering.

clark wasn't sure if he loved tim. he wasn't sure if tim loved him. but he knew he liked being around tim and he hoped tim felt the same.

so...in perhaps the first act of selfishness clark had ever made, he chooses himself. he chooses his happiness.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #clarktim

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sugar-grigri · 1 year

Text

Loose thoughts on chapter 126!!

Lots of interesting things.

I've seen some criticism that the combat is sometimes unintelligible and chaotic I think that's the point.

Denji and the falling demon talk while eating and regenerating each other. Demons are beasts that do not know the boundaries of life and death, nor the honour and bravery that one would find in a human fight. Two demons fighting is a mass of flesh, teeth, blood and intestines intertwined.

The problem with the weekly pace is that you forget the lineage established by the previous chapters.

In the previous chapters Asa panicked when Yoru tore off a fingernail and the palm of his hand. The chapters are meant to contrast Asa's way of fighting, always subject to human logic: subject to fear, to her traumas, with a great sensitivity to suffering and Denji who totally embraces her demonic nature.

Asa is unable to overcome the trauma with her cat, and even begins to fear Yoru. She refuses to focus on the physical pain, too trapped by the mental suffering caused by her destructive thoughts. We see Asa's suffering from having a fingernail removed (a horrible suffering we can all agree on) while Denji doesn't hesitate for a second to cut his head off with a chainsaw.

The protagonist has always had a self-destructive way of fighting as the demonic logic of destruction/regeneration dictates. But I also see this lack of hesitation as Denji preferring to slice off his skull than lose his family again. Denji's fighting style also reflects the intensity of his trauma. Asa is overwhelmed by them, while Denji refuses to relive them. One leaves the door open while the other leaves it closed.

I like the fact that these two ways of fighting also testify to each person's relationship with their demon.

Asa starts to doubt, to fear Yoru and to reject her.

While Denji not only becomes one with Pochita but killing her brain also seems to trigger the instinct of the chainsaw demon: to kill by devouring (Killing the brain implies that only the heart could generate a kind of consciousness)

On the identity of the blood donor…

The most obvious is Yoshida in that he often calls Denji "Chainsaw Man".

But we don't show his face? So is it so obvious that it is him? It should not be forgotten that Fujimoto set up a fake Chainsaw Man who may have been born out of people's fear of not chainsaws but Chainsaw Man himself. The blood also reminds me of Power. And Denji is supposed to find the blood demon in the underworld.

If we reconnect a bit. There are two possibilities either the blood donor is Yoshida. Or the fake Chainsaw Man. Whose goal would be for Chainsaw Man to fight and get even more publicity to cause the public and demons to fear him.

The Falling demon has talked about taking Asa to serve her in Hell. If that were to happen, I think Denji would follow the Falling demon and Asa to the underworld to save his potential ex-girlfriend (<3333) and if he found himself cornered... He might call on the blood demon he contracted with. And who he should reconnect with.

Fujimoto doesn't just place Power and Aki as traumatic old flashbacks. To me it also serves to remind the character of Power.

If demons aren't subject to the logic of death and life… Power… what happens to her ?

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hypnotisedfireflies · 30 days

Note

I miss Lachie! I specifically miss Tess and Lachie, their family friendship warms my heart every time. Would you perhaps consider giving us a snippet of the two of them? Perhaps a late night conversation while they’re camping out on their way towards Jackson? (I’m desperate to hear anything more about their road trip)

(Also will Lachie make any appearances in IO???)

Hi anon! Thank you for your ask (and giving me the chance to pop back into Driftersverse!)

I don't think Lachie will be appearing in IO. I tend to keep the OCs to their respective universes, DD/SQ, IO, Charro, etc. But who knows??

Hope you like this little ficlet. It's set during the events of TLOU while Ellie and Joel are off Ellieing and Joeling and Tess is making the trip across country with Lachie. This is as they begin to reconnect after the Firefly crew has perished, and Lachie is experiencing the earliest trouble with his lungs that later leads to something worse.

Autumn, 2023 Wisconsin.

In Little Hope, Wisconsin, Lachie did something that he hadn’t done in years.

Dear Mum, Dad and Col.

Lachlan Maynard had penned letters on scraps of paper up and down the USA and posted them in every undamaged mailbox he could find. He was very careful to address them neatly and correctly. If everything got back on track – one day, eventually – those letters might make their way home. Somebody had to empty the mailboxes eventually, right? And when that happened – if, if that happened – then Lachie wanted that chance of some small piece of him finding his way home, even if he was long-dead and nobody remembered his name anymore.

Some time ago – when exactly, who knew – Lachie had stopped. The hope that those letters might one day find their way across the ocean had not dwindled (however increasingly unlikely it seemed) but there were fewer things to say. Sometimes, he didn’t really want his family to know what he’d done. It was increasingly difficult to explain or justify the confusing nature of the Firefly cause, which sometimes seemed so righteous and other times seemed like a poorly organised terrorist chapter.

There just wasn’t much he wanted to write home about anymore.

But on this bright, golden autumn day in Little Hope, Lachie felt the urge tickling his fingers once again. He dug around until he found a pencil. Lachie sharpened it carefully with his smallest knife and lifted the shavings to his nose. He breathed them in. Fresh, new pencils! His cousin, Shannon, had a box of Derwents that she only used for special occasions. Nobody else was allowed to use them, but sometimes Lachie liked to lift up the tin lid and have a good, long sniff.

I am in Wisconsin, he wrote.

“Lachlan.”

He looked up. He was sitting on the bonnet of the truck to soak up the sunshine. Tess only called him by his full name when she really wanted his attention. He looked right and saw her standing against the vibrant backdrop of autumn leaves. Many were still doggedly clinging to their branches like they could outlast winter. Lachie could feel its cold, deadly little talons digging deeper into every day. It made him cough in the mornings.

“Everything okay?” Lachie pined the paper to his thigh with the side of his hand. The wind buffeted up a little whirlwind of dry, crackling leaves.

“Your … friend,” she said with as much tact as he could expect, “has a much warmer jacket than mine. I’m gonna take it. I just wanted to … tell you before I did it.”

“Oh.”

Lachie glanced at the low ditch on the side of the road where Toni lay. She’d fallen and suffered a terrible gash to her leg the day before, and had died in the back of the truck during the night. Catastrophic blood loss. Lachie used to think Toni was all right, but Toni hadn’t liked Tess, and Toni had made it clear – loudly and often – that Tess would be easier to transport with her vitals preserved in jars. Dev (before he got himself ripped up by two clickers) told Lachie Toni’s prejudice was rooted in fear, and she was convinced Tess would turn eventually. Some of the others were, too. Toni also wanted Tess on reduced rations, and she wanted her restrained at all times.

Tess gained her full freedom when the numbers of their team dwindled so pitifully that they desperately needed the extra, free hands. Toni mouthed off only once more after that. Tess decked her with two hard, savage hits, breaking the other woman’s nose. The others just looked on – Toni had said some shit, after all. And Lachie grinned as he gathered up some supplies to treat the injury. He suddenly felt just that little bit safer.

Tess never had held back.

“I’ll help you,” he suggested.

Lachie jammed the paper in his pocket and pencil behind his ear. He followed Tess to the ditch and helped skin the thick, fleece-lined jacket down Toni’s arms.

“You want her boots?”

Tess considered it. “No, they’re too small for me.”

“Let’s take her jumper too, just in case.”

“Jumper,” Tess repeated, grinning at him.

“You know what I mean.”

“What happened to your accent?”

“It has its moments.”

They completed the grisly task of stripping Toni for the last of her worth and then covered her body with leaves. The ground wasn’t too hard yet. They could bury her. But Lachie didn’t see the point in going to that effort. They needed to conserve their calories. And Little Hope was a nice enough place in the world to become bird food. Toni could do worse.

“Guess that makes you two even for the hard time she gave you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tess muttered, shedding her own jacket and dressing in Toni’s. She emptied the pockets of meaningless trinkets, then turned up the collar. “Thanks for making that easy.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I know she was your friend so … I’m sorry.”

Lachie squinted as another squall twisted a pile of leaves up into a new dance. “It doesn’t matter.”

The breeze lifted Tess’s hair. She had long, silver strands throughout now. It was still kind of hard for Lachie to believe she was really standing there, really alive. He’d never had any doubt that she’d made it through the years – if anyone could, it was her – but the fact that their paths had crossed again was a miracle he couldn’t overlook. It was almost more incredible than her surviving becoming infected, for fuck’s sake.

“We should make camp,” Lachie suggested. “I reckon we’ve come far enough today.”

Tess was scanning the handful of crumbling old buildings. This must have been a charming little town, once. There was next to nothing here, but it had a postcard-selling vibe.

“You feel up to trying a building or two?”

“Sure.” Lachie shrugged. “What are we looking for?”

“I want to get you out of the cold, for starters,” Tess said, already pulling out her handgun and checking the load. “The coughing in the morning’s getting worse.”

“Nah, that’s just – yeah, nah, that’s nothing,” Lachie tried to wave it off. “That’s just – I had asthma kind of bad when I was a kid and sometimes it acts up a bit, that’s all.”

“Well, the cold can’t be helping. Let’s find something with a bit more shelter tonight, okay?”

He was kind of stoked that she gave a shit. Tess had looked out for him when they were in Indy, too. He was definitely just an afterthought behind Joel and Tommy and Rachel, but the fact that she’d given a damn at all had meant something to him then, and it still did now. And well – hey. It was probably just strategy on her part. Two of them stood a better chance of making it cross country than one alone. But then she met his gaze and he recognised a softness entirely separate to survival.

“Okay?”

Lachie nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“Let’s try that one first.”

“You’re the boss.”

Tess, who had already turned away, stiffened. Lachie looked on ahead. Had she seen something? And then Tess snapped the cartridge into place and plowed on ahead to the building.

“Come on, move.”

The town had been abandoned by living, dead and infected for a very, very long time. The general store had been turned over of absolutely everything of value and there was a single, crumpled human who had perished at some phase of infection. They were almost skeletal, their body and ragged clothing ruptured by powdery, dry fungal plates.

At the back of the general store was a room claimed by the sky. Half the roof was missing. Tess and Lachie built their fire here, where the smoke could pour up into the air, and the walls around them would provide some warmth against the coming night. Lachie pulled out two FEDRA-issued dinner ration packs. The grade was excellent.

“Do you want Butter Chicken or Beef Ragu?”

“Have we got any of the Chicken Italiano left?”

“Nope.”

“Ragu, then.”

They prepared the meal packets in boiling water and ate inside their sleeping bags on two sides of the fire. Tess had been right. He felt warmer with the wall against his back, and there was no wind in the old structure, save that which whistled through the cracks.

“You know what really pisses me off about these?” Tess said, poking around her bag with a fork.

“That they’re better than what ration cards could buy?”

“Yes,” she answered, sounding mildly annoyed that he guessed right. “The shit we used to eat in Boston sometimes, you know? We knew what they were feeding the soldiers was better than what we got, but this is something else.”

Always we. We did this, we did that. Tess couldn’t name Joel, but he was always moving in and out of the conversation.

“Fireflies didn’t have this stuff most of the time either,” Lachie admitted. “Think we were eating better than most civilians though, if you were stationed outside the zones, that is.”

“Like you were.”

“Yeah, like I was. Funny when you think we were only a few miles apart for years.”

Tess didn't respond.

“Anyway,” Lachie continued. “Fireflies were raiding stuff all the time, but when they got their hands on premium rations like these, they stockpiled them for the big ticket events.”

“Like a cross-country trek?”

“Yeah. Build up the strength, that sort of thing. Speaking of. We should reach that Firefly supply cache tomorrow, all things going well.”

“White Earth Reservation?”

“Yeah?” Lachie shot her a suspicious glance. “How'd you know that?”

“I've been listening. My ears weren't handcuffed.”

“This is gonna be awkward for awhile, isn't it?”

“Till the day you die, Lachlan.”

He coughed softly and set his meal aside. They'd argued about this many times already: he'd plead his sorry case and she'd stonily stared him down.

“White Earth Reservation,” he confirmed, pulling out a map. He held it up to Tess and followed a general route along the top of the country with his finger. “So we’re … like … hereabouts. We come up north into Minnesota – avoid Minneapolis, I’ve heard shit from there that’d make your hair curl – and come at the Reservation this way.”

Tess was studying the map with great interest, so he passed it into her custody. “Is anyone stationed there?”

“Supposed to have been deserted for a few years. Unless they sent someone up there from the east, I dunno. Seems unlikely, though. So yeah, nah. We'll scoop in and grab the gear, then go down through the Dakotas.”

“To Salt Lake City?”

Lachie held his breath while he calculated his answer. He sighed and picked up his chicken. That had been the original mission. Evacuate Massachusetts, empty the final Firefly caches cross country and regroup with the dwindling remnants of the cause out west. Deliver the subject - Tess - to Salt Lake City for further study.

There was nothing in that mandate about locating Tommy Miller out in whoop-whoop Wyoming or reuniting the subject with her spiritual husband.

“Maybe after,” Lachie mumbled around a mouthful of rations. “See if that dickhead Tommo’s all right first, maybe.”

“How… how was he last time you saw him?”

“I didn't know there was a problem till he fucked off without saying goodbye. I knew he wasn't happy but … shit, is anybody? You really think he's in trouble?”

“Maybe.”

“This trip was really for Joel, huh? He needed to know what was what.”

“It was for us both,” Tess quietly answered. “I don't know if we ever meant to stay so long.”

“In Boston?”

“We had an apartment,” she continued, eyes on the fire. “Living every day in a fucked up dollhouse for thirteen years.”

“A lifetime.”

“A parody.”

“Why didn't you leave?”

“Go where?”

“I dunno. Tommo said you'd come from some place up in the mountains. South? Could've gone back, tried for it. If anyone could've made it, it was you two.”

Tess shook her head slightly. “Bit past happy endings by then, Lachie.”

“Well,” he finished his meal. “Guess it's a good thing it's now. Hey Tess? Can do shitloads with now.”

“You're still painfully optimistic.”

He laughed a little. Sure. It was easy to have hope in and for other people. The heat was off.

He waited until Tess was asleep before digging out his letter again. He deliberated over the cordial lines and wondered what he could add. So deep in concentration was he that the bottom of the page caught on an ember and smoked. He swore softly and smothered both flame and another coughing fit.

Going to Yellowstone.

He didn't write any more until the following morning. Tess helped him sit up as a more aggressive spate of coughs woke him.

“This is asthma?” She asked, passing a flask of water.

“Woodsmoke doesn't do me any favours,” he managed, rubbing his watery eyes.

Tess didn't seem convinced. She did most of the packing up and loading while Lachie got himself together.

“I'll drive,” Tess announced.

“Yeah, no worries.”

“You ready?”

“Yeah, just give me a sec.”

Lachie looked down at his measly letter. He glanced at Tess, who was circling the truck and checking the tyres.

Catching up with some old mates.

He pushed the letter into a mailbox as Tess turned the ignition over.

#driftersverse #tlou #asks #the last of us #tlou fanfic #tess servopoulos

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subzeroparade · 6 months

Note

What's a ballet with real snazzy costume work, in your humble and/or professional opinion? c:

Oh, you’ve activated my trap card - asking about costume design and ballet and not expecting me to barf up the entirety of my PhD. I’ve also done work on the ballet blancs costumes (Giselle and La Sylphide specifically) but they are interesting on a theoretical level and not so much visually, so I’ll skip that.

So here are some personal favs of mine - the highlights, if you will. Caveat: long post, and mostly limited to the work of the Ballets Russes, because they are my longtime obsession and I think (and have argued) for their role in fundamentally changing stage and costume design (to say nothing of dance, and George Balanchine can sit the fuck down). I didn’t put that in my thesis but I wanted to.

Anyway tldr in the first decade of the 20th century a troupe of dancers from the Russian Imperial Ballet (later the Mariinsky) travelled through Europe under impresario Serge Diaghilev, for what became known as the Saisons Russes, or Russian Seasons. They performed both opera and ballet, and are probably best remembered today (if at all) as the troupe that danced the premier of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring and caused a riot at the Theatre des Champs Elysées. The eminent artists that worked with them include Debussy, Cocteau, Picasso, Chanel - and these are only a few recognisable names. But my focus was primarily on the Russian roots of the ballet, in their visual language and presentation of gender and nationality, more precisely around the work of artist Leon Bakst and dancer Vaslav Nijinsky.

Second image of Nijinsky from Le Dieu Bleu, and Bakst’s set design from Scheherazade (1911). These are mainly photos and scans I have from the year I spent in the archives of the Palais Garnier (the Paris Opera) where all the good stuff is.

The crux of why these costumes are insanely interesting to me is because they are very specific to their time - they are a product of a resurgence in nationalist interests in Russian art (Diaghilev ran Mir Isskustva and worked with Savva Mamontov before he organised the BR) as well as a carefully crafted, highly artificial presentation of Otherness, expressly destined for export to the west. French audiences in the first decade of the 20th century (because there is a stark cut-off at the beginning of WW1) still had an appetite for Orientalism, despite their flagging colonial power. What the Russians brought them was compelling mix of performative Orientalism just vague enough to be appealing and fantastical, visually intriguing, and refreshing to a society that had otherwise come to recognise itself as decadent, fallen “victim” to modernity. In the athletic virtuosity of Russian bodies, Bakst’s exotic visual language and the soaring music of Rimsky-Korsakov and Stravinsky, the French devoured what they deemed a sort of noble savagery (yes, that kind). Despite the oversaturation of Orientalism in painting throughout the 19th century, the French identified a kind of masculine vigour and freedom in these live performances they found they themselves lacked, and longed for. Primitivism, as demonstrated in myriad ways by the BR, was for them a way to reconnect with a virility that they felt modernity had stolen, or at the very least, weakened. If you think this sounds eerily akin to the discourse around mounting desire for war to “cleanse” or “reset” Europe during that same period, you are right.

A few of Bakst’s lesser known designs from the archive, for context (including a reprod by Barbier which I don’t have the OG of but is saved in my Bakst folder so please take my word for it). I have a thousand more of these but tumblr has an image limit per post 😤

Tamara Karsavina, who often performed with Nijinsky, and one of my most beloved historical figures. The existence of a strong classical ballet cirruculumin the UK today is in part thanks to her.

One of her most famous roles, as the Firebird:

Nijinsky is by far the most interesting figure to come out of the BR. He combined virtuosity and strength (that most audiences identified as masculine) with a glittering, joyful, and expressive queerness on stage (and off). Some of his greatest roles are expressly feminine in their costume design: Le Spectre de La Rose, for example.

There’s a colorised version of this out there where you can see every pink rose petal on him.

While others are much more decorative but still markedly Orientalist (or Russian-Orientalist): Le Dieu Bleu, La Peri, Les Orientales, L’Oiseaux de Feu.

This last image above is not, the last I saw it, in a private collection. It hangs above the vestibule of the Palais Garnier archives (also Napoleon’s private hangout room) where it faces the sort of “diptych” version that features Karsavina, and on occasion I would stand below them and weep quietly).

Either way, there is an argument to be made about Nijinsky’s physicality and, more importantly nationality as a kind of avenue of permission through which the French could admire both his beauty and athleticism and even, to a degree, imagine themselves in his place while still maintaining that safe distance of Otherness.

But I would argue that his greatest role was the Golden Slave in Scheherazade, a wild, erotic orientalist fantasy that has little to nothing to do with the actual tale of Scheherazade. In it, Nijinsky - bejewelled, wild, ecstatic, (and yeah often in blackface) - cavorts with Zobeide, the Sultan’s favourite, in a very sexually explicit storyline. Both characters are equally decorative in their costumes, and both, in real life, were recognisably queer(ed) figures. It’s Scheherazade in particular that helped accelerate an obsessive trend in fashion (Paul Poiret was at the centre) for Orientalist design. Bakst himself did some silhouettes that are hard to distinguish from his costume design, and through the remarkable illustrations by Paul Iribe, Georges Lepape and Georges Barbier, we can see some of the blatant repetition of motif and silhouette in these ensembles that are designed, among other things, to be worn to the theatre.

3rd and 5th are depictions of costumes of the Firebird and Zobeide respectively; the rest are fashion plates. This doesn’t even include the lampshade dress - which I don’t have a handy picture of, but have seen in real life - that is a pretty blatant melange of the Firebird and Zobeide, as designed by Poiret. Below is one of my favourite examples: A woman in a lampshade-style dress, standing against a backdrop not unlike Bakst’s set design above, attended by a archetypal oriental servant wearing Nijinsky’s Golden Slave costume.

These motifs also proliferated in advertisements and in all kinds of other consumer products (perfumes, for example, and decorative objects). Thus, there’s a performative aim in wearing these designs that I read as a sort of pseudo-kinetic empathy (and can funnnily enough probably be compared to cosplay). There is an attempt here to channel what is being presented onstage, to reenact it, to physically embody it, in the way that fashion is, at its core, a tool through which to construct identity. That the French pulled inspiration from an openly queer man leaping across the stage dripping in jewels, and from femme fatal-style odalisques, says a lot about the visual and cultural impact the BR had on the theatre-going public at the time.

You can see in these fan designs by Paquin some pretty obvious references to the BR aesthetic: L’apres-midi d’un faune, Daphnis et Chloe, Scheherazade, even a little Le Pavillon d’Armide in that first one.

Nijinsky was not the only one to queer the stage: despite not being a dancer trained to the level of the BR troupe, Ida Rubinstein, no doubt purposefully channelling Sarah Bernhardt, was also a beloved stage presence, whether as the sly harem favourite Zobeide or as the strikingly androgynous St Sebastian, gayest of saints.

This is not to say there haven’t been wonderful and brilliant costume designs since - and quite a few known fashion designers working alongside dance companies, to great success or otherwise. I will, however, shoutout my favourite contemporary work: Akram Khan’s Giselle, which has everything and yet nothing to do with Adolph Adam’s 1842 piece. I don’t even want to post pictures because the costumes of the nobles (the landowners, in this very apocalyptically late-stage capitalist version) are so fucking breathtaking in relation to the overall design, and their entrance itself is probably one of the most spectacular parts of the ballet, that all I can say is just see it. Or buy the dvd. What Khan does gesturally is beyond words, what Vincenzo Lamagna does with Adam’s original score is visceral and haunting and churns my insides. I make a point to see it live at least once a season when it’s touring with the ENB, and I will do so until it leaves the repertory or until I die. It’s my contemporary Scheherazade. It’s a gesamtkunstwerk.

Tldr Leon Bakst is one of the greatest costume designers of the 19th and 20th century and criminally underrated.

It’s not ballet, and it’s not the sumptuous costumes from Boris Godunov, but as a bonus here’s my favourite image of opera star Fedor Chaliapine as Ivan the Terrible.

#Thank you for the enclosure enrichment #And for coming to the tldr of my thesis #ballets russes #vaslav nijinsky #Leon bakst #fashion design #academic indulgence hour #Art history

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riverkingmarley · 4 months

Text

So… what was the point of Theo?

They set him up as early as arc 11, but he doesn’t really do anything?

He doesn’t stop Jack. He’s kinda sad about it. His family is composed entirely of Nazis. He’s kinda sad about it. His family is grey boy bubbled. He’s kinda sad about it. He puts a rift between himself and Taylor. He’s kinda sad about it. He named himself Golem. He’s kinda sad (and weirdly mean?) about it (seriously how do you, the child of Nazis, name yourself after a Jewish thing and then talk about how you regret it because the Golem is too mindless??? That’s so messed up what is wrong with you).

Maybe it’s just me but while all of these ideas are mentioned, none of them really feel relevant or like they’re explored. What really nailed this in for me was how Theo comments on Hookwolf. He has a little internal monologue about how he didn’t like Hookwolf cause he was a jerk, but he doesn’t talk to him about it. He doesn’t even yell at him or something. Did Hookwolf ever get his memories back? He could have taunted him with his failure to accomplish his dream or with the fact Hookwolf doesn’t know who he is. But nothing ever comes of it. What was the point of bringing it up?

I feel like the story pays some lip service to all these themes and ideas but never really explores them. Is there some key to it that I was missing? It mentions that he tries to cover his emotions up to put on a front. That could explain why he doesn’t really touch too heavily on topics, but that never comes to a head either. Also, there’s already a character I like more that covers those ideas: Grue.

Here’s my fun little counter pitch though: We just replace him with Sophia.

Jack nominates Sophia instead of Oni Lee before she is shipped out of the bay and instead of being sent to prison she works out the same deal with him about killing him in two years to save herself.

She still puts up this front about not caring about anyone so she acts like she doesn’t care about her family being on the line. She might try to run away at first but she gets caught by the prt who force/convince her somehow to stay and train/fight.

Maybe something happens with the nine that scares her enough to stay and train. Maybe Bonesaw puts a tracker on her and Amy’s not around anymore to remove it. Then, when Taylor becomes weaver, she’s still scared enough to put up with her the same way Taylor is willing to put up with her because of the end of the world.

Emma’s emotional state went differently because she never separated from Sophia in the same way. After Weaver shows up, she sees Sophia and Taylor working together on the news. Maybe she feels more alone then ever. Maybe this is the push that’s needed to finally get her help.

Sophia grows and develops over the time skip. She works hard and she even reconnects with her family.

This is why it hits ten times harder when they get grey boy bubbled and Taylor kills her younger sibling. She thinks of all the time she lost when she was younger and hated/was apathetic to her family. How her family is suffering forever because of her rash decisions when she was younger.

When she fails to take down Jack it’s a major blow in how she failed both in stopping him and getting revenge. When grey boy gets taken down without her she feels more powerless than ever. She breaks down and shows emotion, maybe for the first real time in the whole book (echoing Taylor’s breakdown with the end of the world).

Maybe she even kills Hookwolf, and it doesn’t make her feel better. While it’s still good that the nazi is gone and she’s protected people from him but she realizes that having power over others doesn’t really make her feel better and she finally realizes that she needs to heal and connect with people she cares about. This made all the more tragic by how her family is gone and it’s too late.

Maybe she says something about this to Taylor at the end and it influences how she fights scion. Taylor takes one last lesson from an enemy except this time it’s a gift instead of a scar.

We see Sophia in the epilogue. Maybe Sofia’s power allows her to affect grey boys bubble a little, lessening her family’s pain somehow. Letting her move past barriers between her and others instead of dodging and running from things.

#parahumans #worm #wormblr #sophia posting #worm spoilers #obligatory: is this anything?#posts inspired by how boring I found Theo and how Sophia in prison shows up right after #I’m still only on 27.3 so if Theo does anything in the last bit. sorry I missed it #seriously Theo why didn’t you do anything #he doesn’t even seem that anti nazi #I’m not Jewish btw so sorry if I got anything wrong #I can edit or delete if you want Idk much about Judaism so I don’t want to step on any toes

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hatteymcstache · 1 year

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How is Huntric incest if Darius/Alador is varely just a screen they share in the ending?

Also, by that metric, wouldn't Lumity and Huntlow have to get cancelled or something? Because Camila says: "I never expected to be the mother of 6" when referring to Luz, Vee, Amity, Gus, Willow and Hunter? Bam!! They're all siblings now.

And as cute as the Dad Darius is because we want Hunter to be loved and belonging, Darius could just be a mentor to him, and that's not bad.

For me it's more of Darius grieving the loss of his mentor, The Golden Guard, and redirecting that energy into becoming a good Mentor and being the positive guidance this teen needs.

We do have a good reference that there is a type of contract to legalize one's adoption when King formalized being a Clawthorne. We never see that with Hunter and Darius, or Camila and the Hexquad for that matter. So, it's up to interpretation.

That take me to the last point: Hunter IS a Noceda-Clawthorne just like Luz.

The sibling energy between Luz and Hunter is hard to deny, Luz welcomes him as family, Camila and Hunter can bond through her favorite books the same way Luz connects with his dad through TGWA, both being arcs or acceptance and healing, he likes wolves just like his new mom!

And Hunter reconnecting with the family Belos took from him and all his predecessors first by being found by Flapjack which we know is THE palisman of Evelyn/Caleb and later him being accepted into the Clawthorne because there is no denying Belos was right: from all of the grimwalkers he is the one who resembles Caleb the most.

Abd what did Caleb liked? Magic, wonder, wood carving and palisman.

The narrative works in a way that both Luz and Hunter belong to both worlds.

Uhhhhhh, welp sorry for rambling i just believe the Hunter and Edric are incest to be a VERY weak statement considering the ending.

TLDR: we don't have set in stone iF Hunter is being adopted by Darius, Darius and Alador getting together/married and Hunter having a romantic relationship with anyone. As far as we know Hunter/Willow could just be platonic.

THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I THINK- on owl house Twitter everyone throws the word incest everywhere cause there's BARELY any critical thinking when it comes to found families. I swear to God.

On top of that, even with such little screentime, the fandom eats it up like crazy. And that's not a bad thing until people have gotten worse whenever they see huntric shippers lately. There was never any valid reason to dislike huntric cause it's not even REMOTELY problematic, but because of the Aladrius/Dadrius nugget, these fuckers count this as a "victory" just so they can watch the huntric ship die.

Over SMALL screentime, and ambiguity. Like you said, Darius personally is more of a mentor, than he is a father to Hunter. I also think Darius and Alador were barely developed enough. The blush feels like an afterthought. Not to mention Darius deserves better, Alador's redemption is kinda rushed to me.

But yeah all these shitty takes from people who hate Huntric are nasty and they've only gotten worse after the finale.

#the owl house #huntric #hattey has spoken

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elysiansparadise · 2 years

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Hello I saw that your ask box is open so I wanted to ask, what do you think of someone who has pluto in the 10th house? I love your blog so much 💓

Hello love, thank you for loving my blog!

Pluto in the 10th house

They project superiority without trying along with immense professionalism. These natives are very ambitious, they set goals and can be very demanding not only with the people around them but also with themselves. They expect a lot from themselves and you will always see them pushing themselves to achieve more and more. Their freedom and having the power to do what they want are things they aspire to have and keep for life. They give the impression of being very mysterious, powerful and even a little intimidating. They can go a long way in any field of their interest, they will be highly respected, adored and could even easily attract people who are obsessed with the face they give to the public. They can attract envy or people who want to bring them down, since they seem to have achieved a lot regardless of their age, gender or ethnicity. Their public image is very important to them and they do not tolerate people discrediting them, their actions or stealing their ideas or work. These natives can become very influential people, since they have the power to easily convince and attract the public.

They can have tense relationships with authority figures, even being able to cause people who are in higher positions, or older, to generate a kind of obsession and envy towards them. Even being able to experience that people feel a need for competition with them. They are very cautious people when it comes to presenting themselves to other people, you will not see them talking much about their private life, their feelings and it is more likely that they know you deeply than you know them, even 25%. This placement usually tells us that the native has strong differences with one of the parents, particularly the father, who may be perceived as someone who lies, is controlling, hypocritical or has a strong temperament. These people through their public image or their work, manage to make certain people change or transform in some way. In addition to that, it is necessary to mention that they have a great sense of duty, being able to be people who are totally committed to everything that seems valuable to them.

They are not afraid to say what they think, especially if they are in the presence of an injustice or some abuse of power, they will always expose people who are cynical or liars. They are people who are not afraid to stand up for what they believe to be ethical or fair, and it is precisely that courage and willpower that attracts a lot of people's attention. They are usually seen as very attractive, sensual and mysterious, and can be constantly sexualized even from a very young age. However, just as they can attract total devotion from people, or deep [and even somewhat obsessive] love, they can attract hate of some kind, and not for a specific reason, but for things as trivial as the way they act. what they look like, how they once behaved or just because they are themselves. These people are not recognized just for magic, but because they work hard to get where they are. They know the value of themselves and their work, although it probably wasn't always like that, it is very likely that they had problems finding value in themselves, people and their comments could have had a lot to do with it. That's why as they grow older, they start to ignore what others say and reconnect with their inner power finally accepting themselves.

-> Go back to the masterlist

#pluto in the 10th house #pluto #10th house #astrology #natal chart #astro note #astro observation #birth chart #astro notes #astrology notes #astro observations

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eurydicesflower · 6 months

Text

From the Start (zoro/robin)

Pairing: Nico Robin/Roronoa Zoro Tags: Modern Setting, Light Angst Warnings: None Word Count: 2.4 k Summary: A flight to Logue Town that will reconnect two long-time friends, and a song that will rekindle the old flame. A/N: light angst for angstober 2023 (no particular prompt, but this draft has been up since last year so i decided to finish this one) Also posted on: Archive of Our Own

“This is an announcement for passengers on flight N1127 to LogueTown. The flight has been delayed due to bad weather conditions… We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

The flight announcement has been repeated so many times now. Of course, it will be so tiring to hear it when you were supposed to be arriving the next day to visit your close friend in Cocoyashi.

Robin: im sorry, nami might arrive a day late : ((

Nami: don’t worry, it’s fine!!! at least we know that you’re going to make it :D loveyewww <3

Honestly, this delayed flight should have been making her insane right now, but when she received the text from Nami, her mood shifted. Her reassuring text had earned a small smile on Robin’s face. Taking a deep breath, she whipped out her phone and read the manuscript Koala sent to her. Just a little peak. There shouldn’t be any work-related things hindering her vacation, but it wouldn’t hurt to check some edits here and there.

“Is this seat taken?”

Robin didn’t mind looking up, “No, no, it’s fine,” before she started reading one of the lines from the manuscript. A minute later, she just realized who that was. She recognized who that voice belonged to.

“Zoro?” She never meant to mumble it out loud, and it seems the man had heard her.

“Oh. I didn’t recognize that it was you.”

It was a lie. She knew he was lying.

“Yeah, me, too! Are you also going to Nami—? Wait, you don’t have to tell me. Of course, you’ll be going there, too. How long has it been, two years?” She joked, which made Zoro chuckle for a bit. She still likes hearing him chuckle.

“Hey, it might feel like two years, but it’s only been a year since you left. By the way, how are you? Nami told me that you’re already working at the National Archive Museum in Ohara like you always wanted. Is it true?”

He remembered. Of course, why would he not know that? They had been friends for so long. Besides, Zoro has always been a supportive friend, and Robin always appreciates what he has done for her even the smallest things.

She smirked at him lightly. “I’ve been well… And yes; it’s also been a year since…”

“The day you left.” He completed her sentence before an awkward silence filled in the gap of their conversation. Robin didn’t know what to say, andso did he.

“Well, surprise, I’m back.” She chuckled, breaking the silence. “Did you miss me?” She teased.

“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t miss you.”

“Hah. Stop it…” He was a madman.

There goes him, giving her mixed signals and that signature smirk of his. That’s one of the worst things about having Zoro as one of your close friends. She hates it when he is unpredictable. And most probably, that's one of the reasons she likes him, thinking that their dynamic fits the same wavelength, which eventually causes her to fall for him for about four years.

“How’s your girlfriend?” She changed her subject.

“Oh… We ended our relationship before our first anniversary six months ago…”

“Oh. Oh… Sorry about that.” Robin didn’t know that bit of his relationship. How come she does not know—? ‘Oh, never mind,’ she thought. Once again, their conversation came to halt, and Robin went on reading the manuscript on her phone before she switched on another app on her phone to scroll mindlessly and watch silly contents.

“Did you really mean it?” Zoro broke the silence.

“What?”

“That night.”

“Zoro, I didn’t remember—”

He then showed a video of her singing at the karaoke during her despedida party. At first, she didn’t know what he meant, but slowly, the realization sank in when she sang the last words of the song, extending her hand, and pointing vaguely at someone in the audience.

“I think I was drunk that time.” She lied.

He scoffed, not actually believing her word.

“What?”

“You had a flight the next day but I know you’re not a lightweight drinker—”

“And so? I am just singing a silly little song about unrequited love, so?”

He was about to counter what she said. “Never mind, forget about it.”

“So, why are you bringing this up right now after a year?” Robin questioned him.

Not that she was bitter last year (she was); she blocked him from all of her social media accounts that she could think of. She hadn’t heard him for so long, and then he just shows up like nothing happened? Wow, that was just so uncool of Zoro, to be honest.

“Maybe it just took me so long to realize..." He stared at his feet, avoiding Robin’s gaze.

“Why now?” she asked before he could even complete his sentence.

Despite the loudness sinking in, another silence wraps them away from the noise of the airport. Robin didn’t want to hear what he was about to say next. She wanted to cover her ears. Not that she was waiting to hear him say those words out loud, but… why now?

///

Every moment in our lives comes into bits and pieces, whether you want to keep them or not. For Robin, seeing her friends for the last time at Baratie’s before her flight the next day would be one of her best and saddest decisions in life. Spending every moment to the fullest, she never knows when she will experience this once again.

“Robin!!! We’re going to miss you.” Nami pulled Robin into the tightest hug. “Who’s going to come with me when I go shopping?”

“You can take Sanji with you during your shopping sprees," Robin joked, and Nami glared at her playfully. “Okay. Okay, and maybe next time when I get back.”

“And what if that will take more than two years? Or worse, ten years…”

“Don’t worry, I promise I will be back next year.”

“You promise that. I believe your word, Robin.”

“And so Mosshead decided to show up late when Robin-chwan is already here! Why are you fucking late—?" Sanji shouted at the back when someone had arrived.

“Sorry, we’re late.”

“Who’s we?” Sanji quipped before he was visibly stunned along with his friends when Zoro was with a turquoise-haired woman.

“Everyone, this is Hiyori, my girlfriend.”

Half of his friends were surprised, and half of them were bewildered, when Zoro just nonchalantly announced having a girlfriend. Robin, on the other hand, didn’t know what to feel. She should have been happy for him. She was his friend, of course. But the more that she stares at their happy couple faces, Robin would rather get drunk than stay miserable.

“Wow, I never thought," Sanji murmured. “How long have you been together?”

“A month.”

“A month? And you kept this from us?”

“I just wanted to introduce her to you guys and to Robin as well.” Zoro smiled and introduced his ‘girlfriend’ to all of their friends. The woman smiled sheepishly at them while holding Zoro’s hand.

“Girl, are you okay?” Nami shared a concerning look at Robin.

“Don’t you just think I should have scheduled my flight a little bit earlier, so I couldn’t see this?”

Robin would be lying to herself if she said there was no jealousy bubbling up inside her guts. She couldn’t even handle looking at the couple. Nami was the only one who knew of her secret. It’s been more than one year— no, three years— she concealed what she felt for Zoro. And the moment when she wanted to tell him, maybe she should just forget it. She’ll be living away from them anyway,so it wouldn’t even matter in the end.

“Robin, it’s not your fault.” Nami held her hand and squeezed it. “We didn’t even know that he would be hard-launching his ‘girlfriend’ tonight. And this is also the first time he mentioned this to us? Like, why now?”

"Just... let’s just don’t think about that. And just enjoy the night.”

And so they did.

Her friends had prepared a night to remember, not a night to resent. She wouldn’t let her friends’ efforts go to waste just because of one minor inconvenience; she would make this night hers. The night went on, and everything was smooth sailing. Robin almost forgot what had made her mood shift for a little bit. Thanks to her friends, Robin never felt the sinking feeling—or, that’s what she thought—until Brook asked who was next in line for the karaoke machine, which was Robin’s song.

“Whose song is this? From the Start by Laufey?”

Robin stood up and grabbed the mic from Brook.

The modern bossa nova song opened with a summery guitar strum, and Robin danced with a cute sway of her hips to match the beat of the song's intro, which earned cheers from her friends.

“Don't you notice how I get quiet when there's no one else around?” Robin spared a glance at the man she had fallen for.

She couldn’t quite imagine that she would actually relate to this song after listening to it for, like, weeks now. As she sang the first lines of the lyrics, she imagined that she was the person in the song. When her gaze landed on them, she could see the crease in Zoro’s eyes when he looked at her. The burning pain that she wanted to erase just by seeing Zoro and his girlfriend doing the lovey-dovey gestures that couples do.

“Oh, how I wish you'll wake up one day, run to me, confess your love, at least just let me say…”

For some reason, Cupid shot an arrow into her heart for someone who would never feel the same way as hers. And of course, Robin had a high sense of pride; she would never confess what she really felt towards him. She’d rather let whatever she was feeling wither and wilt rather than actually say what she really feels— except there was a screaming little voice from the back of her head that she wanted to confess tonight, and confess, ‘I loved you from the start.’

She had been thinking about confessing ever since, but for some reason, there was an invisible force that held her lips and mind, reeling her not to. And to think that it has been going on for about two years now— how could she even bottle all this up? Direct and honest Robin was being held back from confessing to her long-time friend.

How could she not say it directly when she was one of the most outspoken people among their friends?

Even the smartest people had a hard time predicting love because, at the end of the day, it was not as easy as analyzing them. Be surprised at the unexpected, and that’s what Robin felt.

“Have to get this off my chest; I'm telling you today…”

When Nami first introduced her to her friends, she was intrigued by him rather than falling in love with him at first sight. Aside from Luffy, who was the most enthusiastic to befriend her during her college years, Zoro was the next one who caught her attention. She thought this was just admiration, but the next thing she knew, this once petty feeling building up inside her chest had built up into the history of genuinely liking someone. She tried to erase him from her mind, but the more she tried, the harder it was for her to move on. However, that night, she found a solution: vaguely confess with a song, then pretend and forget like nothing happened.

“I know I’ve loved you from the start.” She ended her mini-performance by extending her hand, vaguely pointed at the audience. ///

“I talked through Nami about this a month ago, and I really wanted to see you, so...”

“Zoro, just tell me already and—”

“I actually liked you before, Robin.”

Robin stared at him for a moment, so speechless that she couldn’t move her lips to respond with a witty reply.

Between her and Zoro, Robin was the most direct between them. She was brutally honest, and she was flawlessly fluent in any spoken word. But as soon as she heard what Zoro had said that evening, she knew that night was full of surprises. First, her flight to Cocoyashi was delayed; second, Zoro showed up beside her, boarding the same delayed flight; and third, his confession? What is happening? She even pinched herself to make sure tonight was real. Any moment now, she should be waking up. But she didn’t. This was real. It was happening in real time.

“What did you just say?” Deep breaths— inhaling and exhaling thoroughly, processing through what Zoro had just said. Even if she wanted to hear this for a long time, the crippling doubt creeped in. “Did you just mean to tell me this? Wait— Ah, ah.” She raised her pointing finger mid-air, stopping him for what he was about to say. “What do you mean before?”

“I liked you, Robin.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” She laughed airily and couldn’t believe what she was hearing at that moment. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I thought you didn’t like me before, but not until I rewatched the vid Nami sent the other day.”

That’s it? Robin belted out the loudest laugh that night. Some people beside them started to look at her as if she were crazy. All this time, when she thought he was the one who didn’t like her, she learned this almost the same day she confessed to him. Was the universe playing a joke on her?

“Why are you laughing? Did I say something funny?” He stared at her; brows furrowed in confusion.

“I hate you,” she quipped teasingly with a small smirk on her lips. “And now, you’re meeting me here at the airport, so you could tell that?”

“That’s not what I meant to say…”

“Just tell me already, Zoro so I know—”

“Do you think if we’ve been together, we would make everything work out?”

Once again, Robin was left speechless.

"Zoro, I don’t really know what to say, but… if I say that, let’s talk about this when we get to East Blue. Will you wait?”

“I’ll be waiting.” He smiled at her, never leaving her side.

Robin knew to herself that Zoro was not the romantic type. Yet, there were moments that she would be blown away, and if their friends heard what he had just said, all of them would not believe that the Roronoa Zoro possesses at least a bit of a romantic side in his veins.

And will Robin say ‘yes’ to Zoro’s question? That’s for her future self in three days to decide, even though she already knew the answer.

#zoro x robin #zorobin #zorobin fanfic #zorobin fic #roronoa zoro #nico robin #reg writes

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