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slytherinshua · 25 days

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YOU'RE WORTH IT

genre. fluff. period comfort. warnings. it's mentioned that reader had a toxic ex. anton and reader haven't been dating for too long. mentions of cramps and general period stuff but no blood. kissing. pairing. anton x fem!reader. wc. 981. request. no. a/n. written for @eternalgyu who is suffering :( i hope this helps even a little <33

“Are you sure this is… normal?” Anton questioned a little worried from the other side of the bed. You winced, not only from the excruciating pain you were experiencing, but the sudden guilt that hit you. Maybe you should have tried a little harder to keep your ‘ow’s from distracting your boyfriend from his work.

“Yeah, it’s normal— don’t worry.” You waved him off and rolled to your side so your back faced him, fighting back the tears that started to prick at your eyes. Was it normal for cramps to be this painful?

“Can I do anything to help?” Anton’s voice reached your ear again, this time a lot closer than before. He was peering over your curled up body with concern written on his face. Your face softened a little, and a little of the fear of being annoying washed away with Anton’s look.

Your ex-boyfriend had been… less than understanding whenever you got your period. He always complained about you bothering him or “bringing the mood down” whenever you couldn’t bring yourself to be your usual bright self. He seemed disgusted at even the thought of it and would constantly blame any normal frustration towards him on your period, even when you weren’t on it.

Months of that had quickly trained your brain to be self-conscious of it. You knew it was all normal, of course, but you had started trying to hide the fact that you were on your period whenever you could; almost as if it didn’t exist entirely.

Even admitting to Anton that it was your time of the month made you want to sink into the floor and disappear. You had expected him to be disgusted or confused or weirded out, but he wasn’t. Instead, he offered to go to the store to get anything you might need, which you politely refused— too embarrassed to make him go out of his way.

You shook your head, “I don’t want you to inconvenience yourself.”

Anton looked at you like you were crazy, “Inconvenience myself? But you’re the one in pain.”

You diverted your eyes from his, unsure what to do in this situation. Your brain was racing a mile a minute, too hesitant to accept his offer in case it backfired later. But Anton wasn’t that kind of person, right?

“And, besides, you’re worth any amount of inconvenience. I promise.” He persuaded gently.

“Okay.” You mumbled out. Anton smiled, his eyes crinkling before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I heard heating pads can help, right?” You could barely answer before he was rushing off to warm one up, and back before you knew it, placing it carefully on your stomach. The heat did feel nice against the pain, but it didn’t make it go away entirely. Anton seemed to notice when your eyes scrunched up as another painful cramp hit you.

“Is it not helping?” His voice came out softer than usual, a touch of anxiousness lacing his question. He was studying your face carefully, giving you his full attention. You weren’t used to someone being so patient with you.

“It is, but I don’t think there’s any way to make them go away entirely. I have to just wait it out.” You said quietly.

Anton frowned, “That’s not fair.”

His comment made you smile slightly, “It’s okay.”

“Is there anything else I can help with?”

“Distraction?” You suggested, a little skeptical whether it would actually work, but it was worth a shot.

“Hmm.” Anton thought for a second, giving you a glance before diving forward and capturing your lips without warning. You squeaked slightly from the shock before allowing yourself to focus on the feeling of his soft lips and less on the pain of your cramps. It was pretty effective, if you were being honest. It was easy for your brain to only focus on his lips and nothing else. But there was one problem: you didn’t have unlimited breath.

You pulled apart slightly breathless, and as soon as you didn’t have the distraction to focus on, you were hit with another painful cramp that had you whimpering and sinking deeper into the mattress. Your arms were still around Anton’s neck, clasped at the back, and you brought him down with you.

He shifted to the side quickly before he crashed on top of you and turned so he was facing you again. You were almost sure he would be sick of trying to think of ways to help after 2 attempts, but you were wrong.

He pulled you closer until you were right up against his chest, safely wrapped around his arms. He tapped on his phone for a couple seconds, clicking on the playlist he had made for you a couple weeks ago. The soft songs on it helped you relax immediately, and you snuggled a bit closer.

“Maybe if you tried falling asleep?” Anton suggested, and you nodded slowly.

Usually it was hard to fall asleep with the pain, but it was surprisingly easy when you were wrapped in Anton’s arms. He started humming quietly along with the music, one of his hands rubbing your back slowly at the same time.

You felt your eyelids droop and finally close entirely. Each time you had a cramp, you would tense up and curl closer to him, and he would hold you just a little bit tighter. Eventually, you were able to fall asleep, and Anton let out a relieved sigh. He hated seeing you in any kind of pain, especially when you seemed so afraid to even tell him about it.

He knew it would probably take more time for him to earn your complete trust, but he was more than willing to put in the work for it. A little inconvenience on his end was more than worth it. You were more than worth it.

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore

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orangeinecstasy · 6 months

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i need more of those 5sos thoughts!!!!

bf ashton thoughts ⋆ฺ｡*:･

a/n: ask and you shall receive!!! i swear i've been seeing so much ash content so ofc i had to do him next. he also happens to be my 5sos lane which makes it even better. fluff and smut sections included in this one!!

so so so many beach days. he loved when you record a wave he caught while surfing and it doesn't hurt that you're wearing a bathing suit either

big gift giver. always brings you fresh flowers and makes sure to keep on to know when he needs to rebuy them. picks up little trinkets that he thinks you'll like and tries so hard to package them up cutely but ends up failing. but it's the thought that counts!!

100% tries to teach you how to play the drums, even if its just a simple beat

late night spontaneous dates are a normality when being with him. could be anywhere from going to a park and stargazing to diving into the city and going to a bar

he wants to show you off 24/7. like he doesn't have one picture "this is my partner" picture, its a whole album that he's showing to people because he can't believe you're all his

meditating together

guarding together

tbh just being outside and being in nature together would be a big thing for him

not a super huge pda person but BIG on physical touch

so so so many songs written about you. if they didn't end up on a 5sos album he would totally curate his own and dedicate it to you

tons and tons of inside jokes

would 100% get a tattoo for you. i don't think it would specifically be your name, but maybe some art you produced or something that reminds him of you, etc

not a super big pet name user, but sometimes he'll sprinkle them in

smoking together>>>

smutty/suggestive thoughts below the pics

its always ass or tits, and though ashton definitely loves both i feel like he's more of a thigh guy. they way they're so plush and he can squeeze them and mark them to his liking. how they look in skirts or dressed or when they they're over his shoulders. he can't get enough of them

100% puts you're pleasure first. if he comes, great! but he's so focused on you and making sure that you're experiencing as much pleasure as possible

on that note-- he loved to eat you out. your taste, your smell, the way your hands grip at his hair and his name falls from his lips is just intoxicating for him. he also can't deny how much it boosts his ego knowing that he can make you come with just his mouth

so many suggestive comments when you're with a group of friends. he loves watching you get riled up and pressing your thighs together by his words

he's such a tease oh my god. like you know something is about to happen just by how his eyes shift and that smirk that he can't seem to wipe off his face

such a slut for you. he wants you anywhere all the time. doesn't matter who's around, before a show- after a show, he needs you.

thigh riding!!!

so much casual dominance omg. driving you guys everywhere, constantly trying to find ways to help you, helping you pick out outfits. ugh i can't stop thinking about it

don't think he's a huge lingerie guy, but he really appreciated it when you take the time to pick out a set and doll yourself up

cannot get enough of bondage and blindfolds. both using it on you or you using it on him

obsessed with marking-- he wants people to know he's yours and you're his. like i can just imagine him posting a picture on his instagram story where his hair is all messy and his lips are plump from friction, neck littered with hickeys. he would probably delete it after a couple of minutes because the pr team would actually freak out, but it was most definitely worth it in his book.

high sex

likes to take his time, but doesn’t mind a quickie

cuddles that turn into sex that end up with you two curled back together asleep

love love loves kissing. how simple it can show your affection for someone and how it can be innocent and turn into something more

sleepy sex!!! early mornings or late at night when he’s back from the studio and just needs to be as close to you as possible

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vhagarlovebot · 1 year

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♡ : gif credit. | aemond targaryen masterlist.

summary: aemond targaryen is touch starved. or was until you came into his life.

gwen's thoughts: okay so this is basically just my thoughts / headcanon about aemond and physical touch. it’s just a long rambling that was meant to be like only ten lines but couldn’t stop writing. if there are any grammatical errors i apologize, english is not my first language! hope you enjoy.

aemond targaryen is touch starved.

aemond is not used to physical touch. growing up it was odd to see his family being affectionate and the only person who was constantly hugging him or kissing his forehead was his mother; that’s all he knows about touch and affection.

but aemond is not a virgin. he’s just selective with the people he sleeps with. and the few times he’s had sex with a woman it was just that… sex. roughly fucking her into the mattress and then leaving before she even has the chance to catch her breath is barely considered as a sign of affection, or love.

it’s only natural that aemond does not know how to ask you to touch him, or to simply comfort him. that’s why you think he does not like to be touched, when all aemond wants is to feel you close to him, in all possible ways.

he’s always nervous around you because you are constantly touching him; your hand on his shoulder, brushing a strand of hair out of his face and caressing his cheek longer than normal, your thumb brushing against his hand, your head resting on his shoulder. and he likes that. he likes that very much but aemond just simply does not know how to react.

your first kiss was awkward, your lips hardly touching. but the second time you kissed was the exact opposite. he was just as nervous as the time before but this time he allowed himself to enjoy it. and from then on he’s always searching for your lips, chaste or passionate kisses, it doesn’t matter because he became obsessed with your lips.

then, hugs came. and aemond just melts into your embrace, humming lowly and hiding his shy smile. but he really does not do a good job because you always see it when he pulls away, as well as his pink-colored cheeks. and aemond feels empty when you’re not hugging him, he likes how your warmth transfers to his body, making him feel safe.

when your kissing sessions became more than just hot and wet kisses, you noticed how hypersensitive aemond was. a simple touch in a certain part of his body making him whimper. his eyes begging you to touch him where he needs you the most, his trembling hands guiding you. you barely have to stroke his length to have him jerking up in your hand, and the second your mouth closes around the head of his cock, aemond is cumming hard. he feels embarrassed, that has never happened before. but you are the first woman to suck him and touch his body, to have him completely naked, the first woman he is being real intimate with. and it is the first time, so you ride him. and aemond is a total moaning and whimpering mess under your body. he cums at least two more times before you are reaching your high. you cuddle after, your hands caressing his chest, face and arms, telling him how good he was, how handsome he is.

and every time you share that moment together, you delight in how vocal he becomes, how he can be rough and gentle at the same time, always making you see the stars exploding behind your eyes. no matter how many times you do it, he is always a mess when you put him in your mouth, or touch his body, or lie in bed ready to take him however he wants. and once he has experienced all he possibly could, learning about the yes and nos, aemond is a confident man, slowly becoming dominant in bed until you do or say something that has him begging and crying.

aemond didn’t know much about displays of affection. much less publicly displays of affection. but once he experienced it, he became a whole new person; a person he really likes, the kind of person to always have his hands on your back, on your shoulder, on your knee or thigh during dinner, tightly holding yours. and in the safety of your chambers like a puppy clinging to you, always arms wrapped around your middle, forehead against forehead, bodies pressed together.

when you met aemond, he was so touch starved it made you ache for him. he still needs attention and for you to always have your hands on him, as well as you need to feel his touch.

then it is only natural to say now that aemond targaryen’s love language is physical touch.

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #prince aemond x reader #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fluff #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader

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the-grand-gemini · 4 months

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More Gortash Analysis

I've seen lots of posts going over Enver Gortash's appearance and what story telling elements that gives us and I have more thoughts that won't leave me alone.

Gauntlet and Rings

Asthetic:

Aesthetically speaking they're obviously pretty (or gaudy depending on how you feel about an all gold arm piece), but also I can't not think that his whole look is to hide himself and make himself look more dangerous/compensate any of his perceived shortcomings (especially those he experienced in the hells).

His rings mimic claws like Raphael and other devilkin he may have dealt with in the hells. A basic weapon available to most deziens of the hells

Aids:

I imagin that the gauntlet, plus the rings on his other hand, hide and correct crooked fingers while also possibly help with pain. Acting like wrist and finger bracers.

As far as finger braces go even if he wasn't injured reparative writing and working with them (building machines etc) can lead to pain.

But personally I feel like the repeated breaking of fingers is something Raphael and/or Nubalidn may have done to punish him. This could have left lasting pain and possible disfigurement.

Disguise:

A disfigurement he wouldn't want the upper class to see or bother him about constantly. Again even if it wasn't from injury the hands of a builder or fighter (arms dealer/crime lord) will have changes that someone from a softer occupation or a life of leisure won't have. Duke Ravengard as a swordsman probably has hands that show past injury/work, but he's known for and revered for it. While Enver is trying to distance himself from anyone looking into his dodgy past.

ALSO... If anyone wants to write a fic where Tav (or Durge) massages his hands tag me please 👀👀👀 (I'm totally not projecting my own wrist/hand pain here what are you talking about).

The two mainly free fingers... We all know why 👀💦 but also it's probably so he can pick up a pen and write easily/do Archduke paperwork.

The Flame Shirt:

I've seen other posts talking about the flames and how he's laced his shirt and I don't have anything else to add other than ~ Guy Fieri vibes that I can't unsee 🔥🔥🔥

Coat Collar:

Again the coat has been discussed by lots of others in great detail and I love every analysis! However, I do want to talk about his collar specifically.

It's meant to be intimidating, but it also covers all of his neck and a good portion of his head. A very vulnerable location both physically and mentally. It screams I am hiding/anxious to me. He can't wear an all out hood without looking (even more) shady, but the high collar probably still acts as some kind of security. I don't think anyone else in game has a hood like this? There's the odd ruffled collar, but nothing like this outside of armour.

Also! Even though most coats are meant to (in fashion) elongate the figure) I feel that his collar makes him appear shorter. Does it darken his figure and make him stand out? Yes, but I feel like it falls short on making him look larger and more intimidating then it could if it cut off at the neck like a normal collar or continued into a full hood.

IF his coat was gifted to him by Bane (see man who prays to a god of tyranny and fear but his coat prevents him from experiencing the fear spell) I think it actually visually demonstrates how he isn't in charge at all.

Visually it makes him shorter and swallows his head a bit. It seems almost like there is a shadow behind him. Is the coat Bane visually oppressing Gortash? I think it's two fold, Gortash will never escape Raphael's shadow and he is within Bane's controll.

Idk this is probably too meta but the ideas wouldn't leave me alone until I screamed them into the void.

I want to talk about Orin's outfit next ahhhh

#enver gortash #bg3 gortash #bg3 #rotating them in my mind #character design #symbolism #gorty #Gortash #bane #raphael bg3 #walk walk fashion baby #hes evil and i hate him but i love him #lets face it Katie... its because of his voice and being weak for Jason Isaacs

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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year

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‘Good Girl’

Dr Strange x fem!reader

- i got a request for a forbidden love type fic and fuck me this took long. but this inc the best smut i’ve written in a while so bon appetite. enjoy sluts x

You caught onto Stephen's stare, he was glaring at you with that severe look you've come to expect from him on nights like this. It was like he was testing you. Teasing you. Punishing you for something neither of you could have freely. But all you could do was meet his cool breezy eyes that were filling to the brim with a near calculated hubris and undignified jealousy. The kind you haven't seen since all of this started

You found yourself tossing and turning over thoughts you shouldn't have about a person you shouldn't even be focused on. What was it about Stephen Strange? The man was an anomaly, you don't think you've ever seen him smile let alone blink. Stephen was interesting, you wanted to know more about him, uncover all the secrets wrapped up like a movie reel but he'd never let anyone come close. His trust was always compromised and he had to protect his peace, he was the ruler of self preservation but...you wanted to wreck the bubble he lived in. Before a mission briefing, he held the door open for you, his face was hard and expressionless but his eyes bore into yours with a certain sincerity that made you halt in your tracks.

You had an inkling about the way this made you feel, and you didn't like it. Why? Because it was against the rules, the rules that were designed to be adhered to or you'd get the boot from this team that you worked so hard to get onto. Though it was difficult for you to deny that there was a weird spark settling over your heat everytime you were near him, what made it all the more embarrassing and terrifying was that you were sure he caught onto it

These thoughts buzzed your brain awake. Constantly glancing at your clock didn't do yourself any justice either, for fucks sake it was 1 in the morning and you still couldn't sleep. It was suddenly becoming too hot. You flung the covers off of you and sighed into nothing. Your mouth turned dry and to your dismay you had no water left in your bedside bottle. You hung your head and groaned into your pillow, though it was surprising to see your feet had finally found the floor. Grabbing your bottle, you trudged into the light praying that this was all just a fleeting whirlwind that would end soon

You were good. You were a good girl. You listened to the rules, you were happy in your position. All you needed to do now was stay good. Not matter if the void was calling you

Stephen wasn't an angel. He was blinded by his own self importance and he's made a few albeit questionable decisions that could have put the others at risk. He looked as if he'd seen every single aspect of life-the good, hopeful and the downright ugly. He was experienced...you weren't

All you had to do now was avoid him, no matter the expense.

You left your room and padded down to the kitchen to fill up the bottle, maybe grab a midnight snack in the process- you more than deserved the treat. Although to your suprise, the lights leading to the kitchen were still on. It was probably Natasha or someone else that didn't care about your appearance at this moment, you were counting on it. You approached with caution, however.

And suprise fucking surprise. It was him- the one you had planned on avoiding.

Stephen darted his head up, he was fixing himself a stiff drink at such an unholy hour. You stopped in your movements, stilling at the sight of him like a deer in the headlights. Your heart stopped and pounded against your chest when you finally regained the breath that fled you. Why the fuck was he here? He's not supposed to be here

‘’Oh. Hey.’’ Stephen regarded you with a thick heavy voice. It was so incredibly jarring to see him wear normal clothes, your wild eyes scanned to see he was wearing a plain dark tee and some sweatpants- that clung onto him like a second skin.

"Hey. Aren't you supposed to be at the Sanctum?’’ You found your way around the counter to the sink.

To Stephen's shock, you attempted to keep your cool. He wanted to laugh. He had never seen you ty so hard to act normal- it was amusing and slightly endearing.

Hm.

‘’I just needed to pick up a few things. Most importantly this bourbon.’’ Stephen's gaze was unflinching as he surveyed your every waking move, committing it to memory as a means to figure you out. His eyes were fervently observing what you were wearing. A button down, the kind of dress shirt a guy would wear under a tux, a quite literally nothing else.

Stephen raised a discerning brow at your purpose. You were so subservient yet you were freely showing your bear legs shamelessly. What a twisted inclination, so out of character. He liked it.

You scoffed. ‘’The difference between us is you're drinking alcohol, I'm drinking water at this hour.’’ A ghost of a smile landed on your lips. You turned the tap on and started filling up the bottle.

‘’Well aren't you the poster woman for sobriety.’’ Stephen joked and you stilled at the words landing on your ears, Strange joking was like a lunar eclipse, it rarely happened and it was kind of magical. You turned your head and bit your lip playfully as your eyes locked with his.

‘’I'm happy being healthy.’’ You smirked and he paused for a beat to study you.

‘’Not healthy enough to join me for a drink?’’ He offered. It would be prudent not to take him up on it but your heart rate was kicking into overdrive and you were slowly getting addicted to the rush he was giving you in such a shot amount of time. Fuck. This wasn't good.

‘’Sure.’’ You replied bashfully and he took out another glass and started pouring, you haven't even had alcohol in you and you were starting to loosen up already. You were finally coming out of your shell. It was rejuvinating to Stephen.

You inched closer to him as you leaned agains the cool marble counter, you were close enough to feel his air and to smell his rich cologne. The sensation of it was heating your blood tenfold. Stephen could feel your eyes raking him up and down- like you were checking him out. It boosted his ego indefinitely.

If he had to describe you, a litany of words came to mind. Shy. Intelligent. Flirty. Hotter than the core of the fucking sun. Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction, he wouldn't have guessed he'd have an actual conversation with you.

‘’Whose is that?’’ Stephen pointed a pinky at your shirt before he passed the glass to you. Your face blushed a muted red and good Lord you looked incredible. Traces of desire were evident on you but he had to keep himself composed. You quickly hung your head and glanced at what you were wearing.

‘’Uhm.’’ You pondered momentarily. "You’re assuming that this is someone elses? That's presumptious of you.’’ You sneered with a certain flirt in your voice, it was fun. Cute. He chuckled lowly before taking a sip.

‘’I was actually going to ask who the lucky guy was.’’ Stephen declared very matter of factly and it made you splutter into your glass, Stephen smirked like an asshole and you had to regain your posture and square you shoulders to retain some sort of dignity.

‘’Lucky guy? There's no lucky guy Stephen.’’ Your eyes bore into his scorchingly, wildfire swirling against wildfire- completely uncontrollable and heady as fuck.

‘’Any red blooded male would want you in their bed.’’ Stephen flirted deadly serious in his inflection but you looked at him through challenging eyes.

‘’Including you?’’ You blurted without thinking.

‘’Mhm.’’

Oh?

‘’But you're a good girl.’’ Stephen's eyes darted away from yours in dismissal as he focused back on his bourbon.

What?

‘’Good girl?’’ You repeated like a dumb parrot, it was impossible to contain the shock in your voice.

‘’There is actually a difference between you and I: you're good, I'm not. I don't think you want me to ruin whatever sunshine cocktail you've got going on here.’’

‘’Maybe I've been silently begging you to.’’

He paused to regain a breath.

‘’The things I'd do to you-‘’

‘’Why don't you do it?’’

‘’Don't you always follow the rules? Stephen raised a condescending eyebrow at you, completely knowing of your true nature- you didn't exactly hide the fact that you were a goody two shoes. He traced a fleeting finger around the underside of your jaw, you practically melted into such a cursory and short lived touch before he pulled away. ‘’Isn't that your whole shtick?’’

‘’Don't you like that?’’ You shot back and he was disarmed once more, it was written all over his face. If only he just opened up his eyes and shut his mouth to just see what he's been missing. ‘’Or do I have to put it in words that make it easy for you to understand?’’ You took a swig of your drunk and Stephen just stared down at you like a dumbfounded idiot.

‘’I don't want to taint your perfect record.’’ Stephen grumbled heavy, his eyes turned pale as they alight with a real candor and earnestness that made you loosen up a little more.

Stephen took your pause as a means to drink you in like the bourbon in his hand. Except you weren't fiendish or burning his throat like the liquid courage, you were sweet- so sweet you could throw up. Fresh, full of light and wonder, completely entrancing and you didn't even realise it. But after a while of studying you, you were everything that he wasn't. You were good. A good girl and to be honest he felt like the big bad wolf in your presence. His curiosity could be countered with that of a cat, you were just so different than all the other women that wanted him. Stephen thought that you wouldn't be his type, but he could completely understand how your heart and turnons could be multilayered. What a cliche. You were interested in the older more experienced guy and Stephen would be lying if he said he wasn't so damn pleased about it. He glanced at your shirt and his mood soured slightly, he didn't like the idea of you wearing someone another guy's dress shirt. It should be his. No one elses.

Slow down, Strange. Let's not be hasty here.

That look on your face though made his dick twitch in his pants. Your eyes were wide and guileless yet flirty and playful, Jesus.

‘’Do you want me to put it crudely?’’ You bit your lip, your mouth already running a full course marathon to the man that was already making you wet with his words

‘’Go for it.’’

‘’I want you to fuck me.’’

Stephen looked a little disappointed with your response.

‘’Is that how vulgar you can go? Damn, you really are a goody two shoes, aren't you?’’ He quipped and you were slightly offended, but he want wrong. The fact that you were talking like this to one of your teammates was making your nervous system kick into a hyperactive overdrive. You could lose everything because of this...but it seemed that none of that mattered now. ‘’I mean have you even fucked before?’’ Stephen asked genuinely. He was actually wondering for real this time, have you even considered being adventerous in bed before? Have you ever even been to bed with another man before? Did that mean he would be your first fuck? Your first proper orgasm? Shit, he'd better make this good then.

Calm down. You both aren't doing anything right now...you're just talking...like normal people. That's it.

Stephen took a minute to bridle his thoughts and act like a proper human being. You probably haven't even said the word 'fuck' out loud and it made him want to laugh.

‘’My own fingers don't count, do they?’’ You bit sarcastically, a snarl forming on your face alongside the twist of your lips. Oh you weren't happy and it was easy to see it

‘’Did I strike a nerve?’’ Stephen gave you a look of faux sincerity and you scoffed at him.

You just glowered at him through heavy lidded, lust clouded eyes- the outlines of a plan briefly forming in your head. You took a step back from him and his gaze followed you. You hands slowly fell upon the buttons of your botton down, you teasingly unbottoned the the top botton...then the second button…and then finally the third button. Stephen's eyes watched your ministrations intently and he was goddamn hypnotised by it all; he was also getting slightly annoyed at watching you tease him. You stopped before going any further so it was only your cleavage that was on show. No bra? Stephen thought that was pretty ballsy of you considering how sunshine-y you were.

‘’Is this heading somewhere or am I just wasting my time? Or am I gonna get myself into trouble for something that isn't even worth it?’’ You breathed as you crossed your arms in defiance. So tired of the fact that he was dragging this along...but was the risk worth the outcome? You weren't sure- but you were aching to know.

’We're both asking a lot of questions. I mean if Tony or Fury finds out then-‘’

You cut Stephen off from his words with a searing kiss, you grabbed at his face like it was the last thing you would hold. He was startled at first but he melted into your embrace fairly quickly...Lord, he was yearning for something he wasn't allowed to have. He couldn't have this freely. this freely. No. But he didn't give a fuck when you tasted that good.

‘’I don't give a fuck about Fury.’’ You gritted against his lips.

You couldn't give a shit about him. You wouldn't give a shit about him- not here, not now, not when everyone was prying and wandering eyes saw what everything has come to. Stephen and you were both far too intelligent to let get something as stupid as emotions get in the way, but fuck, it was getting in the way - everytime you looked at him you could practically see the sparks explode in a line from your gaze to his.

You were both private, closed off people; you were both getting good and pretending like Stephen was just another teammate, just another random guy you had to work with professionally, it never had to be too friendly. If anything you would avoid it in most social situations but this was different. You were at a party. Stephen hated parties, you knew damn well. Pillowtalk can actually be helpful. You tried conversing with other agents but you could feel Stephen's stare burn into the right side of your skull, when you quickly peered you saw him with Wong and fucking Tony...it was like the world was against you today and you attempted to surpress your frown. Your fingers tapped at your glass in order to aid in dealing with your scattered thoughts.

Even your fucking drink reminded you of him.

Stephen's glare was that of a lingering one, he couldn't fucking take his eyes off you when you looked so sweet and delicious- he thought you looked incredible in dresses but he preferred you in his shirts, or more specifically nothing at all. He had to conceal the smirk that was so obviously forming on his face; all of the experiences he's had with you seemed to play like a movie reel in his mind and it only made him that much more restless. His scowl formed inwards to himself. He hated being bound by rules and he hated himself for letting it dictate when and how he can see you, it was tampering with his rational steady head.

Stephen was eyeing you like an animal starved of a meal, like a wild salivating dog with rabies and even when you flashed him one simple look, the urge to just grab you and fuck you hard in the bathroom seemed like a less and less insane idea.

Don't be stupid, Strange. She's not all yours to have whenever you please.

Stephen felt indefinitely embittered and apprehensive over the male agents fawning over you and being sycophantic in your presence. They couldn't say no to you even if they tried, but Strange couldn't help but agree with them entirely- you looked lovely...and he was the only one that could actually see you naked. Feel you. Touch you. Kiss you all over, wherever you wanted. Though it does dampen his spirits because he wished he could just grab you and show all these people who you belonged to. He was being quite literal when he said that these agents were chasing you like boys in a schoolyard. Stephen's temple thrummed with an easily identifiable envy, it pulsated in a frisson of annoyance and irritation. Fuck. Your gaze lingered and you didn't back away this time. It was fixed. It was intent. It was an incentive. Stephen just threw his head to the side a little bit as an indicator to follow him in the direction he was pointing to. He excused himself between Wong and Tony and headed through the halls You kept a stiff upper lip and your non chalant and placid character seemed to work to the outside world, but as your feet hit the ground towards him, your inhibitions were fleeing you like ashes from wildfire.

Stephen found a quiet sleek hallway that no one was inhibiting and waited around for you, his hands went into his suit pockets as his primal urge remained the strongest of them all, stronger than the jealousy, stronger than the envy. He wanted you so bad, it reminded him of the first time he truly realised it in the kitchen. His mind was frenzying, he had a thought that startled him: was he in love with you? He felt like a madman but the tension didn't ease when you were here...right in front of him.

You melted into his immediate embrace but you stilled once you realised that anyone could be watching.

‘’Not here.’’ You mumbled but you weren't in any hurry to push him off.

‘’I hate pretending like I don't want you.’’ Stephen grunted before he met your guileless eyes once more, his hand cupped your face and his finger smoothed out the skin of your cheek. ‘’And all those boys think they have a chance with you, they're practically undressing you with their eyes and I fucking hate it.’’ His voice was bitter and angry, the way he said it made your knees turn wobbly. ‘’If only they knew I was your first fuck, that I was there before all of them and I was the one that made you cum so hard-‘’

‘’That would be quite an interesting predicament, yeah.’’ You cut Stephen off with a tongue in cheek remark and he wasn't loosening up in the slightest, your feet inched closer to his and your lips were only a few inches apart. ‘’But, doesn't that make us special? Doesn't it make you feel special? That you're the only one that makes me so fucking dumb for you...that you're the one that makes me make a mess for you. that you are the only one capable of making me feel good? I mean just looking at you tonight made me wet.’’ You breathed against his lips sensually, and he was already giving into you and your perfect machinations.

‘’I've made you bad. You've turned bad. I like it.‘’ Stephen smirked and his eyes lit with a pale fire.

‘’You got your sling ring?’’

‘’Always.’’

‘’No-one will be at the Sanctum, take me there and do whatever you want.’’ You smiled brazenly and he was already forming a portal to his bedroom...a twisted part of him wanted to fuck you in public...yeah maybe next time. Stephen always had to juggle being brazen and keeping his composure, it was a difficult pairing to say the least. ‘’Or you could just death stare at the boys like you've been so callously doing all night? You know they're afraid of you, right? They think you're intimidating, they wouldn't mess with you.’’

‘’But they'd mess with you, and I don't like it.’’ He declared before grabbing your hand and walking you through the portal with a strut you only saw when he was annoyed.

You've only ever been in Stephen's room once but the bed appeared bigger than you remembered- you couldn't wait to christen it in a night of deep throes of passion, you were desperate for it at this point. But then again, when weren't you desperate for him.

‘’I don't have to admit that I'm a jealous guy because I'm sure you've figured it out already, but I feel like I'm blind and tortured on this. It's childish of me to give into my primeval urge of being the coldest, apathetic guy in the room but with you-‘’ He couldn't even finish his sentence, his big hands just grabbed you by the waist and you fell into him, faces barely inches apart- a fucking sheet a paper wouldn't even fit betwen your bodies, you could sense the heat radiating off of him.

Stephen's words were setting your heart on fire, when he embraced you again your insides were about to explode. His eyes were scorching and wanton and you could only reflect it, you've never seen him this short fused and rousing before.

‘’I'm yours. Only yours.’’ You breathed against his lips before you ducked your mouth to his jaw and neck and planted soft reassuring kisses on his skin. ‘’And I don't want you to not be near me.’’ Your whisper was barely audible and his hands flew up to cradle your face in response. ‘’God, these past few weeks I've had to use my fingers and imagination just to get myself off.’’

With that, he instinctively spun you around and bent you over the front of his bed- using your hair as a personal leash.

Stephen's hands were careless, his fingers pinched you as he worked to get your pretty little dress off, the one that all of the other agents were practically stripping you of with their own wandering eyes. The unwelcome thought only fuelled his roughness, his indifference- the first time Stephen had you, he made sure to be gentle with you because he knew you'd break fairly quickly...but you actually proved him wrong, you were more insatiable than he was. You were a certified freak in bed. He wondered where all of this came from, where you actually got it from specifically. It was unanticipated and prodigious. Your dress turned into a pile of scraps on his bedroom floor, he smirked when he saw you squirming against his sheets.

You only had your underwear on, lacy, classy, cute. After, Stephen ducked down and made quick work of getting rid of your heels and his own suit jacket.

You heated up every room that you walked into.

‘’You gonna tie me up?’’ You questioned bashfully, your cheeks turning a pretty pink.

‘’You want me to?’’

‘’Mhm.’’

You moaned when he grabbed your waist and slammed you further up the bed, tossing you around like you were his own personal rag doll- it only made you that much wetter.

Stephen grabbed your wrists and you raised them above your head, he took his tie off and the silk wrapped around your wrists; he looped the fabric over your wrists in an infinity motion and tightened it around your skin, you stuggled against it and it only bit into your skin even more- just how he likes it.

He then looped the remaining fabric of the restraint over his iron bedframe so you were quite literally attached to the bed, your arms were already about to go limp. As silence settled through the air, a hard smack on your ass cracked through the air and you moaned at the sheer idea of him leaving his imprint on you. He always had to avoid leaving hickeys and bites on areas that were visible but he had full reign all over all the other places.

‘’Fuck, you're so beautiful.’’ He gaped at you and it only made tour blush that much more apparent

Before he could respond, he viciously grabbed you by the waist again and flipped you over so you were face up, so he could watch you while he made you feel good. The thing only he alone can do. You were a panting pathetic mess already and the urge to remain composed fleeing you the longer he spent with you.

He took off his shirt and then he suddenly ducked down so his eyes were in view of your thighs and glistening heat, fuck you were soaked and it was a beautiful sight to behold.

‘’Stephen...please just touch me.’’

‘’I'm gonna explore you...just like I did the first time.’’ He reassured almost drunkenly, his words blurred by the desire he's spent so long harbouring for you. ‘’Tell me you want it.’’

‘’Yes. I want it bad.’’ You reaffirmed so eagerly it was designed to make Stephen's ego soar. ‘’Fuck...I need it.’’

‘’You seem greedy for it princess.’’

You couldn't even give him a snarky remark, his large hands smoothed up and down your thighs and you felt liquid electricity shoot down your body. Stephen's eyes searched yours as he gawked up at you like a salivating animal. His curious fingers hooked onto your panties and shimmied them down your legs and ended up like scraps on his bedroom floor just like your dress. You were naked in front of him like so many times before and you were just begging to be touched. Stephen planted a few kisses up your thighs as a means to tease and make you squirm.

‘’You say you're bad but here you are...saying yes so easily.’’ Stephen taunted and it only made you whine.

‘’Finger me or eat me out you prude.’’ You bit back harshly and it only made him chuckle lowly, the sick bastard was laughing at you.

He reached out and gripped you by the jaw. A threat and a warning all at once and when you looked him in the eye it dawned upon you. ‘’I'll take however long I please. Now spread your legs wider for me. Yeah?’’

To your dismay, you obliged and his fingers meandered from your chest to your stomach, tracing and moving in torturously slow for you liking- Stephen surveyed the expressions contorted on your face so intently it was like he wanted to burn a hole into your face. His lips pressed down to where your heart laid, then his mouth and tongue flew to your tits. He bit and sucked on them ferociously and your breathless pants seemed to spur him on. He was being intensely methodical and you hated him for it- all you wanted him to do was ram into you already

‘’Shit...I'm so fucking wet.’’ Your voice was like a slur, so drunk off of the pleasure he was giving you.

'’All for you.’’

‘’Huh.’’ Stephen scoffed in pure awe and pride. ‘’You're just have to be perfect, don't you?'’

You smiled in response. Fuck, he was going to destroy you. Stephen's mouth travelled south and his head ducked to your sloppy heat, the sweetest little pussy. The scene was filthy. He kissed your clit and it made you throw your head back and tug on your restraints.

‘’Stop squirming or I won't make you feel good, got it?’’ Stephen gritted with a voice thick with gravel and seriousness. You nodded all wide eyed.

His tongue started working its magic, he licked and sucked on you as if you were the last meal he would ever have. He was obsessed with the sweetness of your arousal, it only motivated him that much more. You always provided for him and now he was the greedy one to take it from you. He grunted into your pussy and it sent vibrations up your body, sparking its way back to your core, you whimpered violently, your mouth agape. Stephen was devouring you, feeding off of your light, consuming every inch of you until you understood that you were his alone. You were clenching around him already and he didn't approve of it and he suddenly unlatched his lips from you to glare at you.

‘mIf you dare think about cumming.’’

‘’I can't take it.’’

‘’Well, you're gonna take it.’’

‘'The other agents wouldn't be as mean.’’ You smirked and it made Stephen's blood roar. His mood darkened instinctively at the idea of them seeing you like this.

‘’Oh if any other man thinks of touching you, they'll be in pieces and you won't get my dick stuffed in you for months.’’ His threat was horrifyingly genuine and you didn't want to take any chances.

Your eyebrows tensed at his eye-opening intimidation and before you could even register anything else, you could hear the clank of his belt and the unzipping of his fly.

‘'Stephen..I-‘’ He slipped the head of his cock inside you before you could finish your plead.

His cock was angry and steel hard as it pulsated inside of you. A whimper escaped your mouth and it shot right down him. You looked borderline pornographic which completely underscored that once light niavete and innocance. Once he got his hands on you, he made you a filthy mess for him. Broken for him. Stephen was selfish and cruel enough to take you with him when burned the world to ashes at your feet- for you. He made sure he was face to face with you, eye contact was so important to him while he did this. He fisted your hair and then tugged it back until you stared straight up at him. He thrusted in and out of you and your legs wrapped around him relentlessly.

‘’That's it...look at me. Look at me while I'm ruining you.’’ Stephen instructed before he engulfed your lips in a searing kiss. ‘’Remember who you belong to.’’

‘’Yours... You... Fuck it's always you.’’ You stammered out pitifully and it was such an endearing thing to hear.

He was making you feel so damn good, he was reaching depths you knew no one else could. He was an expert at his craft and it was paralysing you

Your shaking legs stilled as your heart began to burn with an overwhelming determination to just explode. And you did. With abandon. With euphoria. You gushed onto him and it was a design for perfection, a moan ripped at your vocal chords and you felt your throat turn raw. Stephen's chest started to hurt and his cock throbbed harder, a wash of hot shudders rippled through his entire body once he saw the view on your face. The thrumming of his ensuing grunts travelled all the way up your spine once he started dragging you through your orgasm. Faster and faster until the only sounds of that were ragged breaths, flesh slapping against flesh.

Stephen was so rough and he was half expecting for you to tap out, but you never did. And it made him cum so hard into you, painting your insides a thick white it would be leaking out of you. He was an incredible interior decorator and the thought made him smile which you hastily caught onto when pulled out.

‘’What are you so happy about?’’ You asked softly as he was beginning to take the restraints off you.

‘’Nothing.’’ Now he was the one that was blushing with arousal, he threw the tie away and fell back into bed to envelope an arm around you. To hold you. Embrace you. You'd both clean up later, you just wanted to enjoy your post coital bliss.

Stephen's head hit the pillow and he turned his head to look at you in those pretty eyes he'd spend the rest of his days losing himself in.

‘’You're eyes always glaze over everytime you cum.’’ Stephen remarked and it made you scoff.

‘’Hm, your compliments are always so inventive.’’ You let his big arms engulf you into his embrace and you laid on his bare chest feeling his warmth coat your skin. Stephen stroked your hair rhythmically and you nuzzled further into his neck. Although, Stephen turned serious for a moment and his lips thinned and his gaze narrowed- the silence muffled his eardrums.

‘'I don't like hiding.’’ He said impassively, holding onto you that much tighter. The twisted bedsheets curling up alongside you.

‘’We'd lose everything.’’

‘'I know. I just want to want you freely.’’ Stephen seemed forlorn but he knew it was stupid to be bringing this up again but it was the one thing on his mind.

‘’I think I've gotten used to this little routine of ours.’’

‘’Why?’’

"Because it's ours. No-one elses."

#dr stephen strange #dr strange angst #dr strange fluff #dr strange x fem!reader #dr strange x y/n #stephen strange smut #dr strange smut #stephen strange #doctor strange smut #doctor strange x female reader

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the-s1lly-corner · 4 months

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Flirting with Eyeless Jack

yay another mini series for creepypasta stuff (other being that date night series i did a while back.. i was going to do another character for that but i got most of the characters done that i can comfortably write romantic for) anyways,... uhuhuhuh this is just an excuse for me to write something for my boy

honestly as much as i love the idea of jack being a really huge flirt in contrast to him being a hermit and even before that not being that social/socially experienced i love the "oblivious character" trope way more so hes being oblivious today on this blog

the type to look at you for a minute after you say a flirty joke or pick up line, totally not understanding that you're flirting with him.. probably asks you to explain the joke or line because hes genuinely stumped at what youre saying

if you wanna see that boy blush youre going to have to be blunt and straight forward... though sometimes he'll realize your flirting hours later when hes laying in bed; long after youve left to go home

definitely the type to have his blush reach his ears and neck... since hes ice cold normally, his face feels weirdly warm when you touch it.. not weirdly as in "its too warm" weirdly as in "oh hes usually freezing cold this is weird seeing him warm for once"

i dont think he would be a good flirt... like yeah sure he can make the most basic pick up lines work, the ones that everyone knows.. and he can pump just enough confidence into his words to come off as attractive

that sounded mean but i hope you guys know what i mean

...though pathetic men who have no swag are also cute

point aside, when it comes to actively trying to flirt back hes pretty much helpless

so hes at your mercy..

i think hes the type to get quiet when hes being flirted with and knows hes being flirted with... although hes already a quiet person

not that he doesnt like your advances or appreciates them..! he just feels a little put on the spot... also add in the fact hes very much self loathing and constantly wondering what you see in him and why you stick around the literal man eating monster.. loads of thoughts going through his head, you know?

im gonna be evil. let that boy have this sad look on his face when you're really going at it because the thoughts above are getting really loud in his skull

honestly i dont think you can ever really get rid of those thoughts no matter how much you try to reassure him

not leaving this on a sweet note im thinking of angst now

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagine #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack imagine #eyeless jack headcanon

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weebsinstash · 11 months

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For real though I am lost in the Miguelverse rn bc the whole you know, concept and setting in general gives so much opportunity for so many different things and he's such a tasty intimidating juicy specimen of a man

Like for starters I keep flip-flopping between concepts of Reader being the Spider of their universe, BUT I also like the idea of Reader being an anomaly, because then you get that torturous pain of like... godDAMN the scene with Miguel and Miles on top of the train was hard to watch, you know? So take that and you've got Miguel trying his hardest to stop you and losing his temper and screaming at you that you're a mistake, you were never supposed to be here, all of those things, and then afterwards he has to try and put all your broken pieces back together after everything you had experienced completely breaks you, like you go from trying to escape him in Nueva York to just going limp in his hold and letting them take you into custody, constantly crying or being completely despodent and literally no longer caring about going home anymore because you feel trapped by being a Spider and feel like your choices are no longer your own. He didn't have any hard feelings against you but you have to follow the canon! And while he's you know keeping a watchful eye on you and making sure you don't kill yourself, he becomes a little too personally invested in your well being, making sure you've eaten, have you slept well, until he realizes too late that he's ATTACHED

Spinoff of this where he accidentally makes Reader kill themselves which also destroys their entire universe and like a few months later Miguel gets another ping in the system and, oh look a new Spiderman, not an anomaly this time, but still... you? Or, A you, maybe not THE same you he had known but, it just tears at his heart as he meets you again and youre so happy and bouncy and charismatic and he knows he has to keep you safe this time, that he cant let you completely fall apart this time. That's kind of getting your cake and eating it too huh? Having the first you be the anomaly and the second you is a true Spider who gets to deal with all his grief and obsession and guilt and all those feelings he never got to address or act on "the first time around"

Ideas of Reader not even being a Spider and just minding their own gd business and a disheveled Miguel from another universe who just lost his own version of you and hasn't slept for shit shows up all of a sudden and corners you because he just HAS to see and hear and touch you again and he's basically lost himself with grief

Ideas where Reader loses their home universe but instead of disappearing with it they just become an anomaly and now you're a Spider without a set destiny who technically shouldn't still exist and Miguel has to keep an eye on you as he watches you gradually sink deeper into the mire of grief and depression because, "does your life even have a purpose now?"

Story ideas where having a darling/obsession is a spidey canon event and Miguel thought he had already gone through his but he stumbles upon you and he starts losing it and getting real freaky obsessed with you and he doesn't exactly stop himself because he thinks it's normal and supposed to happen, and if you resist him in any way he won't let you get away because in his mind if he doesn't have you, not only will he completely fall apart, but what if it causes another universe to collapse?

Stories where you're a Spider and his "coworker" and you two have tension but respect each other and have never really acted on it and suddenly here's another Miguel who isn't quite nearly as reserved or shy as the first and suddenly "your original" has to 'defend his territory' as he knows enough about his own behavior to realize that this other version of him has his sights set on you and, well, your Miguel can't have that

Stories where having a kid is a canon event and Miguel realizes Reader is a grown woman who is actively avoiding relationships altogether and is also on birth control and he realizes "oh shit if she doesn't have a kid will she disappear?" And he's like trying to sabotage your attempts to stay single until eventually he decides, fuck it, maybe it's HIM who has to give you that baby. You know, just a little mating press and some noncon breeding that he swears is to save your life, it *definitely* isn't that he's totally crazy about you and this just gives him the excuse

You know just totally normal ideas about a totally normal totally sane dude

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere stuff #sinprompts #yandere spiderverse #*sighs heavily and opens a word doc*#atsv #sorry i keep forgetting to tag it for the person who asked me to

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moonlingering · 29 days

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light yagami hcs but theres actually a psychoanalysis for some of them

— light has social anxiety. HEAR ME OUT!!!! he wouldnt admit it to anyone (himself included). for him it doesn’t manifest in the way where he apologizes for everything, stutters over his words, etc. instead; he grew up not able to make friends easily because it was always hard to relate when he was already so much more mentally developed than everyone else, and his mom caught on to this, so being the kind mother she is, sachiko tries to make him feel better about it because she thought that it upset him. same w his father. so growing up he was constantly told that he was just more mature than his peers and ir wasnt his fault, which caused him to develop a superiority complex, “i don’t have friends because im better than everyone else, and they bore me.” was probably his thought process, similar to how tomoko (watamote) is w her social anxiety, he blames everyone else for his loneliness rather than thinking there’s something wrong with him. again, similarly to tomoko, he changes the way he is to seem more normal even if he doesnt care to surround himself w people. he overthinks every conversation he has even before he becomes kira and is constantly questioning if he seemed normal enough 😧

— light likes carrot cake. no reason for this one except i rly like carrot cake so he obviously has to be the biggest fan of carrot cake ever

— if the death note didnt exist, and light didnt become kira and neither did anyone else, he would’ve experienced gifted kid burnout for the first time in his life being absolutely bored out of his mind, and he would’ve become severely depressed, borderline suicidal because it seemed like nothing mattered anymore and slowly but surely, he wouldve stopped having the motivation to participate in school, stopped trying to seem normal for the ppl around him, stopped talking to anyone in general, and likely became a recluse or kill himself. i say this bc i think the only reason he never became like that is bc he became kira, giving him a ‘purpose’ in life (passing judgement)

— light has a short temper, due to constantly having to mask around people. he tried to take his moms advice on making a friend in like 4th grade and when he came home, he went straight to his room, locked the door, and screamed into his pillow for a good 30 minutes from pure exhaustion and exasperation. safe to say he stayed polite after that, but never tried to have a genuine conversation with anyone ever again. this fueled his superiority complex probably, enforcing the belief that he was smarter and just generally better than everyone else around him.

— if he ever met beyond, b would absolutely test his patience. im under the belief that if they were acquaintances for a while, light would’ve tried to strangle b at least once. it would not work, and b would find that hilarious, because light doesnt like getting his hands dirty, and the first and only time he tries, he fails miserably. bloodmoon truthers i love you

— he has 97 mental illnesses and is banned from most public spaces /ref (personally i hc him w npd, aspd, avpd, & ocd)

— he got a cat when he moved out of his parents house and would absolutely go batshit (even more so) if anything ever happened to it. like a john wick situation. also the cats name is ai (愛), meaning love in japanese :3

— bloodmoon hc #2 , in the situation where instead of dying, b finds light on the staircase and saves him, fixing him up himself instead of going to a hospital for obvious reasons. also light would give up ownership of the book to b, but would have the book with him at all times to keep his memories. light hates him at first both because b is a murderer and bc he reminds light too much of L. over time they become sort of replacements for each other. light sees L in b, and b sees A in light (physical similarities for both)

— light despises apples. hes always pictured w them bc of ryuk, but thats exactly why he hates them. ryuk would have him buy every apple he sees, or just apple themed things and light would be sooo pissed and yell at ryuk for draining his wallet

— light has a phobia of needles. whenever he has to get a shot or something he’ll keep a tight-lipped smile but would be freaking the fuck out in his mind

ummm thats all for now methinks. yea ^_^ light is literally me so this is all very real trust

#death note #light yagami #light death note #beyond birthday #bloodmoon #ryuk death note #light yagami hcs #canon trust

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pandorasfavorite · 1 month

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Thought that I'd feel better

AN: THIS IS VERY ANGSTY. READ WITH CAUTION FR

Being this way is a curse. Something that feels so incurable and inescapable.

Morning by morning I attempt to convince myself that this sadness is only temporary, that if I tell myself before the day starts how happy I am going to be. That by some fucked up miracle it will work.

Honestly it’s kinda like feeling no emotion at all, imagine looking at yourself in the mirror and then that’s it. It’s just you, alone, staring into your own eyes feeling nothing.

“Hey! How are you?”

“Fine, how are you?”, you reply back while still walking.

“Good!”.

“Lovely day out!”, another person says while you walk through the halls of work.

“Sure is”, you merely mumble back, but in truth you haven’t looked up at the sky today.

The door creaks open and you sigh still shrugging on your gear for your match in 30 minutes. Dominik, Rhea, and Finn all walk into the dressing room with their good mood plastered on their faces. They fall back onto the couch laughing at each other and with each other, for a moment your lips turn up in a tiny smile. Yet that sinking feeling in your chest never disappears even with a twitch of a smile.

“You're gonna win out there, aren’t ya?”, Finn pops up to throw his arm over your shoulders. Shaking you and grinning, you crack a smile and shrug him off playfully, “Of course I am Balor”. You tighten the belt as far as it goes before sitting beside Dominik on the couch. Suppressing a small sigh.

Dominik slips a hand on your thigh, squeezing your leg to get your attention, “We already know you’re gonna do great amor”, he asserts. You look down at his hand and back to his inspecting eyes, “thank you”, you say shyly. Smiling up at him and at everyone around you, your lungs feel full of rocks, the inability to breathe was normal to you by now. It’s always been like this.

Beautiful moments of joy are constantly ruined by that sinking feeling in your body that is always returning to haunt you. No one has noticed the internal pain that you were going through... not that you'd let them find out though. It wasn't their burden to carry, it was yours, all yours... Now you are leaning your head on Dominik's shoulder, and you're silently listening to everyone talk as you do every Monday. You close your eyes for a few minutes, and at that time you force yourself to take shallow breaths to ease the pounding in your chest.

In and out. In and out. Part of you is burning to tell Dominik, to update him on the pain you are experiencing on a day-to-day basis for no reason. But it wasn't worth it. Dominik would most definitely feel guilty and responsible for what you felt. You couldn't handle hurting another person you love, especially not him. Never him.

"You ready mi amor", Dominik nudges you with his shoulder lightly, his smile is contagious. You nod up at him and give him that same shy smile back to him, "mhm" you reply. Dominik wastes no time and stands up. He pulls you up with him and manages to wrap his arms around you; kissing the side of your head kindly. You sigh a tiny breath of relief, so light that no one but you can hear it. Your arms weakly wrap around Dominik and you pull back just as quickly. His hand refuses to leave yours and he walks you the entire way to the entrance of the arena. He spins you around to face him (you have to look up to catch his gaze). "Kick ass out there", he brushes the stray hairs out of your face and his lips press to yours firmly.

You give him that fake smile that you wear every day. Being with Dominik made it easier, but so much harder to hide. With him, you had to work 10 times harder in order to make sure he didn't think anything was wrong. Though some days you swore he could tell. Those days he would watch you so much more closely and he would barely leave your side if he could help it. Out of the corner of your eye, you would be able to catch him talking to Rhea and Damian, telling them to keep an eye on you. Just in case.

You shake the thoughts from your mind and you give Dominik one more telling smile. You turn around and you walk out towards the ring. The match essentially went by in a blur, after many hits to the ribs you were sure that's the most you felt in weeks. Despite the physical pain you felt, you somehow managed to win the match. You plastered on the familiar fake smile when your arm was raised into the air. You should feel ecstatic and overjoyed by the win; you felt nothing at all.

How can you feel nothing? Isn't it just like intense sadness? You asked yourself these questions hundreds of times before, but each time you came back with the same answer. Nothing feels like seeing your life through a different lens. You could compare it to watching a movie, yet you're living it. Most days you have to convince yourself that it is real.

You walk backstage where Dominik is waiting for you. He looked beautiful, Dominik was the bit of light in your life you could hold onto. Dominik rushed towards you and swooped you up into his arms. You were spinning around and momentarily felt the spark of life you wish you never lost. He put you back down on the floor and he pressed a series of kisses onto the side of your cheek. "You did great out there baby! I already knew you would though", he comments while rubbing his hands down the expanse of your arms. You drop your head and you hold back from falling into his arms like you crave to do.

You can feel the look he is giving you. That one worried expression that he has so often, the one that makes you break in ways that are unexplainable. Dominik swivels his head to look at your face, "Hey, what's going on?". Your breath hitches at the question, the one you have been dreading. You shake your head and you wrap your arms around his middle; you rest your head on his chest. "I'm just tired babe, can we go home?", you use all your strength to sound normal. Dominik is rubbing your back now in comfort and you swear to yourself that if you are stuck in this building any longer, you'll go crazy.

When you get home, you instantly get in the shower. You turn the water all the way hot and you let the boiling water hit your skin. You feel everything and nothing at all. A tear slides down your cheek and the pressure in your chest comes back all too soon. The water shuts off instantly, and you have to remind yourself that it didn't happen on its own. God, you feel like you're going insane. You manage to wrap the towel around your body and you stand in front of the mirror, your reflection staring back at you. You have major dark circles and you could almost look sickly. trudging into the bedroom, you see Dominik sitting on the bed watching T.V. Though he sits up completely when you walk in with the same sad look.

You roll through your dresser and you slip on light clothes, not bothering with small talk. You walk to your side of the bed and you slip under the covers; only turning over to give Dominik a kiss. You turn on your side and you shut your eyes; fading into the darkness that is the only comfort that is given to you.

Dominik is a wreck, he is freaking out because he has never seen you this way. You're his wife but you're not. You are like a zombie walking around the house and giving him that fucking fake smile that makes him want to pull his hair out. He is at a loss on how to help you. Dominik has done hours of research and he has tried to give you space, he asked you what's wrong, even waiting for it to pass. But you are still stuck in this stump of sadness that has him in constant worry. His face is stuck in a worried look, but you are turned over and ready for bed. Dominik clicks off the lamp and he throws an arm over your body, pulling you to him as tight as he can. Scared you are slipping away from him.

--------------------------------------------------

The morning comes and the loud ass alarm takes you in and out of sleep. Dominik is jolted awake as normal, his ears have always been sensitive to the loud noise. You feel him reach over you to turn the alarm off and you keep your eyes closed. Although you know he is still leaning over you and stealing a glance at your face. Dominik kisses your cheek and he slides out of the bed. You absolutely thought he was going to start getting ready for the day, but instead, he came around to your side of the bed. He kneels in front of you and brushes the hair from your face with utter care.

"Mi Vida, are you up?", he whispers and kisses you again. You grumble and shift in your spot, you are awake but you feel glued to the bed. "Baby?", he calls to you again, you hear it in his voice now. The shaky tone of voice and tremble of breath he so rarely has. You squeeze your eyes shut and you attempt to persuade yourself to get up. To stop hurting him. To stop being this way. "I can't", your voice cracks and your teary eyes open to look at his. "What?", Dominik said in a hushed voice, his hands were shaking with anxiety for you. "I- I can't get up, I need to stay here", you push out of your throat.

A tear falls from Dominik's eyes and it rolls down his cheek, his lips pull together and he looks away for a moment to control himself. he gathers himself and he nods, he holds your hand in his and he keeps nodding. "Ok baby- it's okay", he pulls your hand up to his mouth, and a wet kiss plants on the back of your hand.

#Spotify #dominik mysterio imagine #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio #Dominik Mysterio angst #Dominik Mysterio x reader angst #dominik mysterio fanfiction #dominik mysterio x reader fluff #dirty dominik mysterio #the judgment day wwe #the judgment day #angst #monday night raw #friday night smackdown

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heliads · 2 years

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Hi, I really like your writing and I wanted to send a request for Newt (tmr) if that's okay? My thought was that the reader was the first girl that showed up in the Glade, and with that, some of the boys there were kinda disrespectful, sometimes even making her insecure to be alone. And Newt, being the sweetest and most caring of them all, became the one she grew most attached to, she hardly ever leaves his side. And Newt also became super protective of her, like, when some of the others are near he'll subtly hold on to her or pull her to his side, things like that. He's just super soft with her and she's everything to him, however he doesn't think his feelings are reciprocated. And you can decide how they get together, i just wanted to see that dynamic. Would be super grateful if you could write it, thank you <3

soft newt my beloved

masterlist

You can feel the eyes on you no matter where you look. You haven’t been stared at like this in a long time, if ever, and no lack of memory can make up for the fact that this feels terribly, utterly wrong. It’s one thing to be the center of attention, but this? This lack of privacy, no, this sudden, terrible attention? This is the worst thing you’ve ever experienced. It even outweighs waking up in the center of a massive maze with only a couple dozen boys to keep you company.

The boys, however, are precisely the problem right now. You are the only girl to ever show up in their Glade, and they’re making their shock quite evident. Wherever you go, you find yourself followed by curious stares and fascinated looks. Even now, just sitting at a bench and wishing the noon break would come to an end, it feels as if every head in the Glade is turned towards you.

It would be one thing if they were just confused by you, but this is different, more malicious. These boys are hungry for someone like you, they stare at your every muscle and bone as if imagining you in their clothes, or in no clothes at all. It’s like you’re surrounded by a pack of wolves, except instead of bloody jaws all you see are their eyes, constantly watching. No matter where you go, you are never alone long enough to feel safe.

Just when you think that you might go mad from the sheer exhaustion of being witnessed, someone slides into a seat next to you. You look up with a start, but relax when you realize you know the boy beside you. This blond second in command is one of the only guys here that you actually trust, something you learned within your first hour of coming out of the Box and has stayed true even now, a week or two after your arrival.

Newt glances at you briefly, taking in the knot of your brows and the way your hands won’t stop twisting together. “They’re not getting any better, are they?” He asks, jerking his chin towards the masses of boys surrounding you.

You shake your head. “Not at all. I thought they’d get bored of me, but it doesn’t seem like that’s the case.”

Newt grimaces. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them. They’re normal boys, I swear, it’s just that–”

You cut him off, voice soft. “It’s just that they don’t know how to act around a girl? I mean, I get it, it’s certainly weird that there were no girls here at all and then I showed up, but they don’t have to be like this.”

Newt finishes your thought for you. “They don’t have to be like monsters. I wish you could have had a normal entry to the Glade, or as normal as it gets around here. You deserve that much, at least.”

A rush of gratitude hits you, all directed towards the boy sitting beside you. You haven’t known Newt for long, but compared with the rest of the emptiness that contains your missing memories, it could have been forever. You have no idea why Newt has taken it upon himself to make sure you’re alright, but you couldn’t be happier that he did.

Newt, after all, is the one person who makes you feel safe. With him beside you, it’s as if the rest of the stares start to drop off, none of the boys wanting to be caught being creeps by the second in command. Newt’s presence is a silent shield, a buffer of quiet jokes and real smiles against the restless boys.

Soon enough, the workday will start again, the two of you will part ways, and that same feeling of insecurity will wrap itself about you once more. For now, though, you are content to sit here with Newt and pretend that nothing here could ever hurt you.

If you thought it was hard to face all that attention during the day, though, it only worsens once the sun starts to drop beneath the horizon. Even by yourself, your thoughts start to darken with the hour. It’s as if a switch flips inside your brain every time the sun sets, reminding you of every terror that could await you out in the Maze and every guilt you carry over not being a perfect Glader due to your recent arrival.

Plus, the darkness makes it easier for certain things to happen, things that nobody would dare attempt during the broad daylight. You’re sure that most boys here are actually quite normal, or so Newt says, but there are a few that make you uneasy. During the day, those boys are forced to leave you be, but they’re cloaked in shadows once night falls. You can’t get in trouble for something nobody sees, and it’s hard to see anything at all at a late hour like this.

The daily activities of the Glade are hard enough that you really need to get your sleep, but you can’t seem to shut your eyes longer than a few minutes at a time. Your mind refuses to grow calm, instead keeping you awake by running through simulations of all the worst things that could happen to you. You jump at the slightest of noises, and grow stressed at the smallest of movements.

You try to force yourself to relax back into your hammock, but no sooner have you made up your mind that you’re actually going to sleep do you see something. It’s the figure of a boy, one that first draws your attention at the far end of the sleeping area but slowly drifts closer to you.

A cloud shifts across the moon, and a beam of light casts itself upon the face of the boy. With a chill, you realize that you recognize him. The guy’s name is Paul, he’s been on your nerves ever since you arrived. He has this sense of entitlement that he wears like a king’s finest silks, truly believing that the world should scrape at his feet.

This entitlement only continues to you. Paul is one of the boys that makes you afraid to be alone, and the fact that he’s steadily drawing closer to you only worsens things. He’s near enough now that you can see his face well even in the shifting moonlight, and what you see terrifies you. His eyes are firmly fixed on you, the expression written in them almost hungry. His lips draw back in a grin, but it’s not happy, just pleased that he’ll finally be getting what he wants.

It strikes you now, how this situation could turn ugly. Everybody around you is sound asleep, so tired out by the day’s work that they wouldn’t awaken at a few footsteps. As if sensing your worries, Paul locks eyes with you, and gloatingly holds up one finger to his lips. He knows what you’re thinking, you realize, and he’s going to do exactly that.

Your heart spikes with horror as Paul calmly walks nearer to you. He’s taking his time, so sure that he won’t be caught that he’s enjoying himself. Paul is a Builder, too, he’s far stronger than you even if you put up a fight. Frantic, you look around you, and notice that Newt is in the hammock beside you.

You reach over and shove his shoulder as hard as you can, whispering his name under your breath as loudly as you dare. You don’t want to wake the others, too afraid of what Paul’s friends would do if they discovered what was going on, but you trust Newt to save and not damn you. You always have.

Paul’s footsteps quicken when he realizes what you’re trying to do, but one last desperate rap on Newt’s arm and the blond boy is up. He rubs a tired hand over his eyes, opening his mouth to blearily ask what you’re doing when he catches sight of Paul looming over you.

Instantly, Newt is on his guard. “What are you doing, Paul?”

You don’t know that you’ve ever heard Newt sound like this, so dangerously even. His tone is as cold as a dagger, and you swear you can see Paul start to bleed even before the Builder’s eyes widen.

Paul starts to stammer. “Uh, nothing. Just walking. Couldn’t sleep.”

Newt sits up, the moonlight revealing more of his body. The sleeves of his shirt are cut short, showing off his arms. Newt may not have the sheer bulk of a Builder, but he’s not weak either. If he wanted to, he could pack a mean punch.

Paul must realize that he’s caught, because he starts shuffling away again, a haunted look in his eyes. Once he’s gone, you turn back to Newt.

“Sorry to wake you up,” you whisper, “but I didn’t like where that was going.”

Newt shakes his head firmly. “Don’t apologize, Y/N. Jeez, what a slinthead that guy was. I’ll talk to Alby in the morning, see if we can get Paul thrown in the Slammer for trying that stunt. I don’t like to think about what might have happened if you hadn’t been awake long enough to see him coming.”

You don’t like the thought of it either, and even the promise of justice for Paul doesn’t stop you from shivering despite the warm night air. It all feels too close, the threat of unnameable violence too real. You’re supposed to be only fearing the Maze like the rest of the Gladers, for goodness’ sake, not the other boys.

Newt must be able to tell that you’re still terrified, because his expression softens and he holds an arm out to you. “Come over, Y/N. You can sleep with me in my hammock for now. That way we know for sure that no one else will try anything tonight.”

You have to admit, the thought of not being alone for the rest of the night does sound awfully good, but some part of you still hesitates. “I don’t want to keep you up any longer,” you hedge, but Newt doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll be fine, trust me. Unless you want nothing to do with any more boys,” he says, eyes starting to widen at the fear that you might think him no better than any of the other watchers, “In that case, feel no need to do anything of the sort.”

You laugh quietly, and watch as Newt’s tension leaves him in a wave. “I think that sounds perfect. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Newt’s smile returns, and that’s all the motivation you need to carefully climb out of your hammock and into his. The hammock is small enough that the two of you are pressed against each other, Newt’s arm draped casually around you back to pull you closer. His chest is still sleep-warm, and your head drops against his collarbone as if it were made to be there. Your last thought is that you don’t think you’ve ever felt so content in your life, and then you’re asleep.

You wake feeling more rested than you have since the day you showed up in the Glade. For a moment, you forget where you are, and then you feel Newt softly stirring against you and remember everything. It’s about half an hour before the rest of the boys get up, so no one has seen the two of you together, but you know enough to make mysterious heat rise to your cheeks.

Newt has woken up too, and he props himself up on one arm, raising a drowsy arm to push messy strands of golden hair away from his face. “Sleep well?” He asks, voice softened from sleep.

You smile. “Perfectly well. Thanks for letting me stay with you.”

Newt looks down at you softly, as if he never wants to look away. For some reason, his stare doesn’t seem nearly as hard a weight to carry as those of the other Gladers.

“No problem,” he murmurs, “you’ve never been a burden.”

For some reason, you feel the need to look away. It’s all just a little too much at once, and it’s too early in the morning for you to properly put into words how much you’re feeling at this moment. Newt must notice this, because he hurriedly mentions something about how you’d probably better get back into your hammock so no one suspects anything.

You try not to feel sad about him kicking you out, but one glance at him as you pull yourself out of his arms cures you of anything. Newt still looks at you like the first flower of the spring, and that sight alone lets you leave your worries behind.

You’re still thinking about that night well into the morning, and when it comes time for the lunch break, you scarcely even notice the stares of the other boys. There was some reason, surely, why Newt is always so willing to help you, why his mere presence feels like enough to keep you safe against any threat.

You’re so lost in thought that you almost don’t notice one of the Gladers stalking towards you across the center field. Newt may be the person you trust the most, but Alby, too, is someone you’ve never feared. Of course, that could be the fact that Alby’s so busy trying to make sure the Glade doesn’t run itself into the ground that he scarcely has time to look at you, but you still have faith in him anyway.

You’re fully expecting Alby to walk right past you and go deal with another problem on his list of thousands, but instead, he takes a seat next to you, all but throwing himself down with relief at what must be the first time he’s not standing since dawn.

You arch a brow at the boy, but Alby starts speaking of his own accord within a few seconds. “I want you to know that I was talking with Newt, and we’ve agreed that Paul should face punishment for what he tried to do last night. Even if we don’t know for sure that he was going to do anything, he was acting suspicious, and at any rate it’ll be a good example for the rest of these hoodlums that they need to stay clear of trouble.”

You nod slowly, but Alby isn’t done. “Also, I need to talk to you about Newt.”

You sit a little straighter, feeling oddly nervous although you’re not sure why. “What about Newt?” You ask cautiously.

Alby’s eyes lock on yours. “Listen, Newt has been my second in command for a long time, and for good reason. He’s one of the only actually good guys we have here. For that reason, he deserves happiness far more than the rest of us. That’s why I need to talk to you.”

He breaks off, looking at you expectantly. You’re not entirely sure what he wants you to say.

“Newt is a great guy,” you say hesitantly, “but I don’t really know what you want me to do about that.”

Alby sighs. “I don’t want to betray his confidence, but Newt likes you. That’s been obvious for a while, but I wouldn’t say a thing if I wasn’t sure that you like him too. Look, just talk to him about it, alright? I don’t want my friend tearing himself to pieces over you if he doesn’t have to.”

You lean back, startled. “What are you talking about? Newt doesn’t like me. And I, uh, don’t like Newt. Not like that.”

You’re not sure that you do a good job of convincing either of you, though.

Alby actually smiles for the first time since you’ve seen him. “Yeah, sure. Just talk to him. See what happens.”

With that, he stands up again, heading towards a group of Bricknicks arguing over the best way to fit supplies into an already stuffed storage shed. Alby’s work may never be done, but you think you can help him with at least one thing.

Newt is just starting his noon break when you find him. It’s easy enough to ask Newt to talk and lead him away from the rest of the Track-Hoes, but it’s far harder to actually come up with the right words to say once you’re alone. To his credit, Newt has never made you feel awkward, but it’s difficult to tell him that you think you might love him if you’ve only actually realized it about ten minutes ago.

At last, you give up on pleasantries and decide to just get the whole thing over with. “Newt, I”ve been thinking.”

Newt hazards a joke. “Always a good thing, from what I hear.”

You make a face at him, which makes him smile. “Stop that. Anyways, I was thinking. Thinking about us.”

Newt cocks his head to the side. “What does that mean?”

You groan. “Well, I could tell you if you stopped interrupting me.”

Newt grins. “My bad. Go on, then. What about us?”

You take a slow breath, then continue. “What if we could be more than just, you know, friends? I mean, I didn’t even realize it until recently, but last night, you made me feel more safe than anyone ever has, and I really like being with you all the time, and–”

You’re cut off by Newt gently kissing you. The stress of trying to find the right words leaves you in a rush, and what you’re left with is calm, pure and simple. It’s the sort of calm you always feel around Newt, the kind of feeling that makes you realize that you are going to be alright.

When you look up at him, Newt is smiling. “I’ve been wanting to hear you say that since the day you showed up here, you know that?”

You laugh. “There’s no way you’ve liked me that long.”

“Of course there is,” he says, “you made it very easy to like you. You always have.”

There’s another feeling you’re coming to associate with loving Newt, a sort of heat in your cheeks and butterflies in your stomach that makes you feel lighter than air. You feel it now, and you’re fairly sure that you’re going to feel it for a long time to come. Loving Newt is the easiest thing in the world. It’s a good thing that he feels the exact same way.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes

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fatuismooches · 6 months

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THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSE POST REMINDED ME OF THOSE CLICHES WHERE THEY MEET AN ALTERNATE VERSION OF THEMSELVES OH MY GOD???? like zandik sees a version of himself where he never met you and he will admit that he honestly has never seen himself so sad before.... like everything he has now? nothing can compare to a zandik who has never felt love before and that FUCKSHGVUHFBJAKM<>SAGDUIJSAK .. I SWEAR I SAW THIS SOMEWHERE I JUST CAN'T REMEMBER WHERE...

and zandik who has never experienced love thinks he's so foolish for allowing such a massive setback to his goals, and he doesn't understand you and your relationship with your zandik. perhaps he's jealous? maybe he wants to study you (in a not so intimate way and rather how he would treat regular subjects)? AND IT JUST MAKES ME SOOOOOO SAD LIKE. YOU'D OBVIOUSLY WANT TO HOLD HIM AND KISS HIM TOO, make him feel loved too BUT you have your own zandik, AND he has never opened his heart to anyone for literally millenias and uGHHGHHH

methinks it makes zandik appreciate your relationship on a whole 'nother level

OH. MY. GOD. THIS IS SOOOO GOOD AND GENIUS UGHHHH I LOVE IT SM! Screams... the idea of Dottore admitting to himself that he looks "sad" is something that he thought was impossible but!! He can't deny that his alternate self looks goddamn miserable!! His counter-self would look "normal" to anyone else, but perhaps because he's connected to him in an odd way, he can just sense his other self's sadness. Eyebags and all, he really looks like he reached the edge of insanity. Which, Dottore has as well, but there's just something about his alternate self that shows it a lot more. And he thinks, could you really have had that much of an impact on him, for his alternate self to be like this? Surely there were other factors that made his alternate self come out this way, perhaps even arguably worse than him? And he's right, there is, being from an alternate universe and all but... still, there was no alternate for you his alternate self. No one to lessen his burden, to help him, to care for him, to love him... he was left to descend into madness all by himself.

Ugh his alternate self would probably be disgusted with him. There are so many things to be done, and instead of focusing on the important stuff he's fooling around with... love? With... you? A person he supposedly... loves? It's disgusting really, how low he's fallen. He should know better than to believe in such things, after the neglect he went through. And you. His other self doesn't like you for being such a distraction. What could possibly be so interesting about you? He doesn't see anything notable about you at all, especially if you're sickly, and yet the twisted part of him wants to know. I mean, you're scared of his alternate self of course, but you can't help but pity him, You want to show him what it means to be loved, how even someone like him can be loved, and how love can actually help him rather than hurt him. You want him to be showered in affection... but you can't. That's not your job... and it would be far too hard for you to do it in such as short him. So you only leave Dottore's counter self with a few words - that you didn't know what happened to your alternate self, whether they were alive or dead... but you hoped that he could meet them one day, and maybe then he would understand.

You're more sad about it than Dottore of course, meanwhile he's more contemplative about it? He thinks about everything his other self said and he can't help but think he's so... wrong. He counters every single point his alternative self made. You've actually helped him with so many breakthroughs in his own research, learn new things he couldn't have understood on his own. You help him regain his energy when he's tired, you help him relax and rest when he constantly pushes past his limits. You... love him, and that's helped him a lot more than he initially realized. And that just makes him more resolved to the fact he can't lose you.

#smooches talks #moots: kai <3 #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #something abt this scratches my brain just right

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scoobydoodean · 11 months

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There are a lot of posts about how to “fix” Sam and Dean's relationship that entirely focus on how Dean needs to change how he relates to Sam. Dean needs to stop conflating parenthood and being a brother in his relationship with Sam and just be his brother, and then boom. The relationship is fixed. This framing misses an incredibly crucial detail:

Dean is not the only one who perpetuates Dean's parentification.

Sam and even the larger narrative also participates in conflating Dean's roles and parentifying him, and Dean can rebel against his own parentification all he wants, but as long as others continue to demand he fill these roles, he will be guilted back into the cycle.

I think there is a tendency to see Dean as constantly seeing himself in the parenting role. I think Dean normally just sees himself as Sam's brother actually. He shoves himself into the parenting role when Sam is facing potential harm. It triggers that instinct to care for and protect his brother in a way that feels more parental than brotherly, and might also be overbearing, partly because those instincts and moving into that state of mind was a state informed by and originating from childhood necessity and abuse and the guilt and blame that would be applied to Dean (like John's co-parent) if Sam was harmed. Simultaneously, and crucially however, Dean can also be seen rebelling against the notion that he should have to parent Sam at key points.

There are multiple points where Dean is implicitly or even explicitly guilted and/or shamed into taking on the parenting role in Sam's life (or someone else's life), or is shamed for setting boundaries. In fact, fandom also loves to criticize Dean for not embracing a parenting role then turn around and criticize him for being in one, but they get the idea from the actual show. Take for example 4.22, where Bobby's response to Dean saying he doesn't want to see Sam anymore and is done with him, is to tell Dean to be a better parent to Sam (his 26 year old brother) than John was. "The End" is another example of an episode very crucially tied to the idea that Dean is not allowed to set boundaries, that he has to be there for Sam, being his guardian and supporting him, or else the world will quite literally burn.

That's the narrative and other characters, then there's Sam:

When things are going well in Sam's life, Dean is Sam's brother. When Sam's decisions have backfired, or Sam feels bad about himself, he often shifts Dean into the role of a parent so that he has a figure he can project responsibility for his actions onto or who he can accuse of thought crimes (Sam is going to fail, Sam can't be trusted, Sam is a freak) that come off like a child terrified that they're a disappointment to their parents. As an example of Sam shifting Dean into the parenting role to project responsibility for his own actions, take "Fallen Idols", where Sam shifts some of the blame for him going off with Ruby and drinking demon blood onto Dean (a person who was dead when Sam began doing those things) being bossy. If you go back and actually watch what happens in season 4 honestly (I might point you especially to "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag", but there are multiple things here) Sam was motivated by a desperation to secure his future and Dean's, by the belief that only he could save them and the world and get revenge on Lilith, that he needed to toughen up and be the strong one doing what's necessary, and that he had to do it all on his own in secrecy because Dean was weak. However, Sam begins experiencing consequences from the demon blood arc in 5.01, in the form of Dean saying that he is hurt, and asking for space and time that Sam isn't actually willing to afford him, as shown by the jump from

"I will earn your trust back" in 5.01 ->

Shoving Dean into a wall in 5.02 for not trusting him, which is explicitly stated to be a projection of Sam's own inability to trust himself at the end of the episode and is very clear regardless from Sam's temptation to drink blood (that isn't even actually demon blood!) inside the convenience store ->

"Actually you're part of the reason this happened in the first place" in 5.05

Dean can rebel against the parentification dynamic or he can embrace it, and either way, he'll be the bad guy in the narrative who is either 1) not feeding Sam enough fatherly love and pride thus signaling his destruction and causing him pain, or 2) stifling Sam, leading him to rebel like a child according to Sam's rewritten ordering of events and motivations.

In other words, no—you absolutely cannot "fix" the part of Sam and Dean's relationship that was broken by parentification by getting Dean to stop parentifying himself. Other characters actually have to stop doing it too—especially Sam.

#projecting displaced aggression and scapegoating in spn #parentification #season 5 #5.01 #5.02 #5.05 #4.22 #the flannel business #season 4

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geekywritings · 1 year

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“I didn’t expect you.”

You didn’t think I was done with Cal x reader fluff, did you?

Cal and reader have been traveling together for quite a while, but Cal struggles to sort his feelings. Until now.

____________________

The only life Cal Kestis had known for the longest time was the one dictated by the Jedi Order. His entire path in life had appeared so certain back then. Training at the Temple, further learning as a Padawan, the trials and finally serving as a Jedi Knight in his own right before taking on his own apprentice.

Only half of that had come to fruition. Long before he even started thinking about the trials, everything he had ever known was burned to ashes. His past, his present and his future.

He had to forge a new one for himself. Something, the temple had never prepared him for…

Lost, in hiding and scared, the young survivor had to learn the hard way how many lessons he had been missing. How little the Jedi life was connected to that of normal individuals in the galaxy.

He had managed somehow, making the best of his dire situation and finding ways to stay alive and out of sight. Unfortunately, this wasn’t any way to live. Not for a Jedi. Not for someone like Cal, with his strong sense of justice and desperate need for a purpose in life.

Cere and Greeze had been lifesavers in more ways than one. They had saved him from certain death at the hands of Trilla, but also from a far more painful and slow decay of his spirit.

He was fighting again, to rebuild the order, to protect innocents and to destroy the Empire. And with each fight and every ally he won, Cal’s confidence grew. He had begun learning new lessons, taking him further and further away from the Order and every rule he had ever lived by.

And then you had appeared, while he was on an errand run for Greeze on a small, desolate moon in the Outer-Rim.

You had literally dropped from the sky, right into his arms, the Jedi catching you purely on instinct. What a vision you had been! Dressed in a light blue dress, your hair braided and adorned with little trinkets that matched your necklace, earrings and bracelets.

He hadn’t realized it at that moment, but you had been a bride on the run.

“Help me.”

The first words you had ever spoken to him, as the calls of your family members and destined groom boomed from the building above.

“Please.”

All Cal had been able to do was nod, placing your feet on the ground and grabbing your hand instead, as he navigated you through the crowd and back to the Mantis. No questions asked, he had simply offered the help you had asked for.

That had been three or four years ago, and all memory of the forced marriage had already paled in your memory. Instead, your mind was mostly filled with thoughts of him. Your saviour. Your friend. Your comrade on the battlefield. The man you had grown to care for.

What you didn’t know: Cal’s thoughts also hadn’t stopped gravitating around you since that day.

From your sudden first appearance until now, you kept surprising him at every turn. You turned out to be an excellent fighter, using a staff almost as confidently as he wielded his lightsaber. You also shared his interest in tinkering, constantly finding ways to improve or fix something around the Mantis. What was most surprising was your personality, however: So positive, so joyful, so full of energy.

The Jedi could be having the worst of days, but one smile or joke from you and he’d find his mood lifting. One touch from your hand and he was willing to face Vader himself. Cal was feeling things around you he had never experienced before… and he knew right away that this was the thing the Jedi Temple had forbidden. This kind of all-consuming attachment, undying loyalty and sheer attraction would have him drop everything for you in a heartbeat. And it didn’t even feel wrong.

Recently, it had started to weigh on his mind more and more, as he found it increasingly difficult to push his feelings down. He cared for you. Loved you. Desired you.

Theoretically, there was nothing that stopped him from just giving in… apart from that tiny voice in the back of his mind, resembling that of his Master far too much. It reminded him of the Code, the vow he had made to follow it, to always be a good student and never disappoint his teacher.

“Look what I found!”, your happy voice tore him right out of another round of debating with his conscience and he turned to look at your beaming smile as you held up some spare part he couldn’t identify at first glance.

“You said you wanted an upgrade for BD, so he could protect himself more.”, you clarified. “It’s a tiny electro shocker. I didn’t even know they came that small.” The excitement was radiating from you like the sun, and Cal found it impossible not to smile at least a little, as he took the part from you for a closer look.

“That’s great.”, he said, but the tone in his voice had your joy falter.

“What’s wrong?”, you asked.

“Nothing…. Just thinking.”, he replied, unable to lie to you.

“What about?” You could be incredibly pushy and persistent and Cal contemplated whether he could talk himself out of this one. In the end, he concluded that he could not.

“About the Jedi Order. The code and… how I can still honor it.”

While he spoke, you had hopped onto the table he was sitting at, staring at him with a serious expression. You had known little about Jedi before meeting Cal and even now, your understanding of them felt patchy. Mostly, because you found yourself disagreeing with a lot of the things Cal had told you about.

“You are honoring it by continuing to fight what the Order stood for.”, you eventually shared your honest thoughts with him. “Peace. Balance. Justice.” Those were the things you did respect about the fallen order.

“But times have changed. The rules have changed, if you want to compare it to a game.”, you eventually continued when Cal didn’t say anything. “You adapted to stay alive while staying true to yourself. That is commendable.”

How were you so good at this, he wondered. How were you so capable of taking his doubts and worries, picking them apart with just the right words?

Green eyes were staring at you as you argued about some of the Jedi rules being outdated and impossible to follow anyway.

“We are humans, you and I. We are meant to feel sad, happy, jealous, excited, joyous and all the other things.”, you concluded with a firm nod. “If we lock it all away, are we even really alive then?”

Coming from someone, who wore their heart on their sleeve, it was probably true. You were driven by emotion in almost all you did and so far, you had never regretted it.

Cal’s expression had changed during your talk, his shoulders relaxing and his lips twitching back into a smile. Ultimately, he even chuckled.

“I wasn’t joking!”, you said, lightly punching his shoulder.

“I’m not laughing at you.”, he assured you, catching your hand before you could land a second punch and holding it in his. “I’m just thinking how much you surprise me every day.”

Your confused blinking invited him to elaborate.

“I should see it coming by now, but I never do… I didn’t expect it. I didn’t expect you.”

His thumb was now gently stroking over your skin, keeping a hold of your hand in his.

“I always thought I’d be walking the Jedi path. Even after the Order disappeared… I wanted to force that path back into existence… And then you showed up… and everything changed.”

He took a deep breath, eyes wandering from your joined hands to your face. Why had he hesitated for so long? Why had he kept his feelings bottled in? The old path was gone and no amount of fighting would bring it back. But he could walk a new one. With you.

“I think it’s time for me to take my life into my own hands… find my own destiny. Unrelated to the Order.” Still, he was dancing around it and although you knew what he was probably trying to get to, you didn't try and help him right away.

“I want to build a new life. With you.”, he finally said. “I wanted to for quite some time, but…”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you leaned down, capturing his lips with yours in a kiss you had been dying to give for months. Cal was so stunned, he couldn’t even return the gesture.

Slowly, you pulled away with a smile. “You are horrible at confessions, Cal.”, you told him. Your entire body was tingling pleasantly, your belly hot and your heart swelling with so much joy, it felt as if it would burst any second

“I love you too, you overthinking Jedi.”, you said, having no qualms about saying the words he had trouble finding.

Your own confession worked like a stim to Cal’s system and instantly he was up on his feet, standing before you and leaning in to kiss you. Whatever hesitation had been there before was gone all of a sudden, as his hands wove into your hair, keeping you locked to him as the kiss grew deeper.

You weren’t holding back either, giving in to every bit of passion you felt at that moment.

“If we get married, I hope you won’t jump out of the window like you did when we met, though.”, he spoke after you broke apart.

“Bad confession followed by a bad marriage proposal? We will have to work on that, Cal.”, you teased back and he chuckled before kissing you again. He would learn. He was ready for new things. As long as they were with you.

#cal kestis #cal kestis x yn #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #jedi survivor

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aestheticpearl · 4 months

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— 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡

[𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫] isaac rhoades

isaac didn’t understand— he couldn’t understand it, your blooming positive outlook on life as a whole. you’ve been through so much, yet you’re seemingly thriving despite it.

isaac observes as you clean the dishes from tonight’s dinner, humming a nameless tune as you work. unbeknownst to him you can feel his eyes lingering on you. you know he doesn’t mean to stare, he gets lost in his own thoughts constantly.

“sir you’re staring at me again, am i not doing something to your liking?” you ask, finally breaking the silence between you two.

“huh?” isaac glances around the room, trying to focus on anything but you. “no no of course not, you’re doing fine.”

“you have a question for me.” you state.

“what could possibly make you think that?” he asks curiously.

“you get this look on your face whenever you have a question to ask the person you are staring down.” you smile. “and i seem to be at the end of your stare this time. so what would you like to ask me?” you ask as you wipe your hands dry with the hand towel and then place it on a hanger.

“i see your observation skills have improved.”

“maybe they have or maybe i’m a little biased.”

isaac clears his throat as he feels the tips of his ears grow red at your casual flirty statement. you’ve always have had the talent to effortlessly flustered him.

“it’s a bit personal.”

“i’m an open book, there’s nothing you don’t know about me.”

it’s true he did know everything about your past and your life leading up to your meeting with him, but he wanted to know more about this version of you; the seemingly happy version of you that has been through so much that it would be understandable— no, expected of you to be bitter and angry.

“how are you so happy?”

the question catches you by surprise and you looked at him stunned. a moment of silence passes before you realize that he actually wants to know.

“maybe i’m a little confused, what do you mean?”

“you’ve experienced a major trauma and you’ve had no access to professional help to work through it, you act as though you’re fine and nothing is wrong. i’ve been through a major trauma as well and i have gotten professional help but i’m still broken over it and have barely healed. you work like this is a normal job that you’re okay with and you do it all alone, i just can’t wrap my head around it.”

you think about your response before providing it.

“everyone processes things differently and that’s okay, you can’t compare trauma’s because they’re all so different. you’re right i haven’t had access to professional help but i have this great boss that’s been there for me to help me work through things when i slip up. he knows how to handle my nightmares and ways to calm me, he tells me how much he appreciates my hard work and it helps me a lot to hear him say these things. he makes me feel valued as a person which means so much more than he thinks, plus i think he’s pretty handsome.”

isaac feels his cheeks flush at your words.

“i may be putting up a pretty good act of being put together but i know one thing for certain.” you say as you take his hand in yours.

“and what’s that?”

“i have never once been alone throughout all this.” you say before placing a soft kiss on your intertwined hands. “thank you for being there, even if you didn’t realize it, you’ve helped me the most.”

isaac’s has face turned completely red.

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

wanna give him a lil kiss mwah

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

#zsakuva #zsakuva isaac rhoades #zsakuva audio #zsakuva isaac #zsaku isaac rhoades #zsakuva headcanons #zsaku isaac #zsaku #zsakuva fan fic

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sch-com · 5 months

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Specific manifestations of schizoid PD in my life

see similar post for anakastic PD / OCPD

When I first heard of my personality disorders, it was hard for me to notice their role in my life. Part of it was that I was younger, and with less experiences, but part of it was that by nature PDs are so ingrained it's hard to see the full scope of their influence. Particularly I struggled to see the "dysfunction" part - I was thinking that sure, I do experience that, but is it really that bad? And you can't have a PD without the dysfunction, so do I even count? I think that now, after some time and more reflections, I can say I do see the dysfunction, so I thought to share my observations.

Using the DSM V criteria for schizoid PD:

1/ Neither wants nor likes close relationships, counting being part of a family / Has no close friends other than immediate relatives

When I was first moving out for university, I didn't really have any close enough friends I would feel truly comfortable moving with. It limited my choices, and influenced the one I ultimately made (a mistake).

Also, when I was moved out and experienced my first full-blown mental health crisis, I didn't have anyone around me to rely on.

Studying in uni is much harder when I am not talking with people in my class. Normally students support each other, share notes etc I imagine. I have to do everything alone.

Talking to people = opportunities. And support. Real, material support of being physically near. Going to places together, someone having a job opprotunity, hell even having anyone around in case of an emergency.

I suspect at least part of my emotional problems can be attributed to my self-imposed isolation. Occassionaly when I do talk to someone, it's like... an altered mental state, in a good way. When I laugh, I feel physically good. And it's easier to laugh with other people around. It's the little things I think, that are crucial and I am largely missing out on.

2/ Almost constantly picks introverted activities

Sharing what you do can help you progress faster. Sharing your art and getting critique, joining language classes. Sure I can do all of this on my own as well, but it may be sub-optimal. I think it's a matter of balance - and if I consistently choose to opt out of group activities, it could be seen as dysfunctional.

Also again, doing stuff with other people = meeting other people = getting the social connection, vital for even physical health, and gaining access to opportunities and support.

Other people can also motivate you, or keep you accountable for doing something. When I do (almost) everything on my own, I have to well, rely on my motivation / determination, which is often hard (more on that in 4/).

3/ Has little if any, thought in engaging in any sexual experiences

Frankly I am asexual, so I wouldn't say it's causing me any distress. I suppose that lack of sexual life can be viewed as lack of a major life activity, if you want to interpret it that way.

However, somewhat connected to 4/, it's hard for me to say 100% that sex life is something I truly don't want, or if it's just another thing I am opting out of out of the lack of reward. More on that below.

4/ Seldom derives pleasure from any activities

The emotional implications are written into the criterium itself. Lack of pleasure is I think dysfunctional already.

But, adding on the above - lack of pleasure/satisfaction definitely made me lose a lot of motivation for doing anything. I have disengaged from hobbies because of it. I have disengaged from studies, from social activities, from even simple things watching movies, reading, or cooking a good meal because of this. I have to force myself to do pretty much anything. There is not a single thing that I do simply because I truly enjoy it - I need another reason on top, like an obligation.

What I mean by the above, is that... I think I have opted out of things because they don't bring me much emotional reward, not the other way around (so it's NOT that I don't get a lot of joy because I don't do things). I remember when I was younger and more active in life, doing something like travelling, or acomplishing something, and emotionally not getting anything out of it. So I wished I was just in bed and not doing the thing, because at least it's less effort, for the same emotional reward (= lack thereof). And as I became an adult with more control over my day-to-day, I stopped many major life activities because I can. And it's all the same.

5/ Appears apathetic to the admiration or disapproval of others

For me it's largely related to 4/, because I don't get much internal reward from external stimuli, it also manifests in how this criterium describes it.

I've had people believe in me in the past. Try to encourage me, praise me, tell me they see a potential. But I... couldn't believe them. I don't feel this, it's all the same if I am awarded something or not. External rewards don't cause internal reaction, so like why bother? Why bother going after this hard thing, winning a competition, if after I acomplished it it's all the same void? I put the effort into something, only for this to not matter. So I stopped putting so much effort.

I think it may also discourage others from trying to help me, because historically I haven't shown much reaction, or improvement, or gratefulness for their honest efforts. To give up on me, because I seem like this empty shell of a person. But I don't really know, I think it would have to be someone else to confirm this.

6/ Shows emotional coldness, detachment, or flattened affectivity

People told me that I appear flat and so it's hard for them to read me. It's hard to know what I think, and some became afraid that I was judging them, when I... I don't? Overall, this one makes it really hard to connect to others and to be understood. So it makes me feel even more like an alien.

I have also hurt people because of this. Because I detach, I isolate, I forget about people. I am the friend you have to message to get a conversation, or schedule a meetup, because I don't initiate. I know it's a hard position to be in, and I don't want to hurt anyone, so I only disengaged more to not even have any friends that would care about me enough to be hurt by my isolation.

Because I seem all the same (flat and withdrawn) all the time, it's harder to notice when I am struggling. I can be in the throws of depression and actively suicidal, but outward appear pretty much the same. So people don't believe me, not even professionals, and I have been neglected because of this.

#schcomtalk #schizoid personality disorder #schizoid #szpd #spd #scpd #cluster a

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