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#there's no difference based on like ''you married into this family'' but just ''you and he both are equally family now''
communistkenobi · 2 days
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in that post abt the gender unicorn graphic, in the comments the idea of the “split attraction model” is brought up and you say you dont want to litigate that. however, im really curious what your opinion is bc i have some ideas abt it too. i feel like its sort of an incomplete analysis? like, people feel different ways about others and that cant really be flattened into like two modes of attraction. but i personally would call myself aromantic and bisexual so obviously i have some level of investment of the idea. anyways i just ask because in general i find your analysis and opinions compelling
thank you! re: this graphic
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My issue with splitting “physical attraction” and “emotional attraction” is that it does the same naturalising trick that the chromosomes-as-the-symbol-of-sex does - by splitting the emotional from the physical, this implies that physical attraction is natural, without emotion, and by the same token that emotion can exist completely detached from the physical body of the person you emotionally desire. Like I just don’t think this is true! For example, the idea of “casual sex,” ie sex that is devoid of emotion/emotional investment, is a social construction, it is a sexual act that is being contrasted against societal norms of “serious sex” or “invested sex” or whatever you want to call it - sex that is being done in the context of a monogamous, married relationship, or an otherwise exclusive long-term one. the base social unit of much of western society is the nuclear family, and the nuclear family is “ideally” produced by monogamous, cis-heterosexual, racially homogeneous reproductive sex. That is the norm by which all other sexual behaviour and activity is judged by.
and to be clear I’m not using “emotional” in an idealistic or moral sense, I am not using it as a shorthand for romantic feelings, I am purposefully using the language the graphic is using - I mean any emotion. Like just to be super clear, I’m not suggesting that people who have casual sex all secretly love the people they fuck, or that sex has to always be a serious emotional endeavour, or that people who do not feel sexual attraction to the people they have romantic feelings for are secretly lying, but that I don’t think sex is something that can be devoid of emotionality entirely. Like I think we are engaging in this Cartesian body/mind dualism where the physical acts we perform are somehow wholly separate from our emotional states. Pleasure has an emotional component to it, I don’t know how to articulate my experiences with pleasure that do not involve some level of emotionality, and emotionality has a physical character to it. Like in fact I think this graphic is treating emotions as ideal states - it reminds me of like old misogynistic psychological theory that described rationality as an absence of emotion, that to engage in rationality is to move away from emotion. It treats rationality as “out there,” objective, natural, detached from social influence, and emotion as “in here,” in our hearts, ruled by the social. And this distinction is made on the idea that the social world is detached from the physical world, which is pure idealism.
this is not a dismissal or denial of anyone who feels a disconnect between their sexual and romantic desires, such as asexual or aromantic people - while I am neither of those things, I have experienced intense physical desire for the person I’m fucking while actively dissociating during sex as a result of dysphoria/heteronormativity/etc etc. by the same token I have also felt emotionally compelled to be physically attracted to someone without actually feeling physical desire. These are both emotional states that were in conflict with my physical desires, or rather my physical desires as I understood them at the time. our ability to interpret and understand our desires is itself social! otherwise heteronormativity wouldn’t be a thing. We don’t have unmediated, unemotional access to physical desire, which I think this graphic is arguing, intentionally or not.
so having complicated, contradictory, disconnected, or otherwise ‘non-normative’ relationships to our emotional states vis a vis physical desire is obviously very real, and the reason they are real is because physical desire is also socially mediated and constructed. What and who we find attractive, why types of bodies, physical and character traits, etc are attractive to us are all part of (joker voice) society.
now, idk how you easily communicate this in graphic format. perhaps these things are unsuited to the medium of easily digestible graphics, or perhaps I’m limited in my imagination. either way I don’t think bifurcating emotional-desire-as-social and physical-desire-as-natural is particularly helpful
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g-kat423 · 1 day
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If Alcina being a lesbian is so important to you why does she have an ex husband in your fic
I’m going to assume this is a genuine question without malicious intent so I will provide a real answer.
This could actually apply to 2 of my fics, but I’m guessing you’re talking about Something Sweet since it’s the one that I update more frequently.
Gonna plop this under a read more since it’s gotten long
Alright, so, the reason for her having an ex husband has been stated throughout the fic. She felt she had to be closeted and to meet certain expectations set for her both by society and by her parents. Sure, people are more accepting now, not that there isn’t still bigotry or pressure to conform, but with the fic taking place in 2022(I started it in 2022 and only a few months have passed in fic time and while I never explicitly stated the year, that’s what everything is based off of, giving Alcina a 1978 birth year and the reader 2001) that means Alcina got married in 2008. Idk if you were around during that time, but homophobia was rampant, being gay was a punchline. It’s not something you would talk about, there’s no way to know if your friends would actually stay your friends and not spread vicious rumors about you. Marriage equality in most states, not a thing. Again, bigots still exist, but it’s generally not this life ruining thing for people to find out you’re queer. Alcina would have come of age in the 90’s which would make that even worse.
That aside, I tend to explore themes of coming out later and families not being being accepting because it’s all I know. I tend to process my trauma through my writing. That and I’m sure it’s no secret that I’ve taken heavy inspiration from Carol only with a sugar baby twist. I also wanted her to have younger, biological children since I felt that would be fitting of a 44 year old divorcee rather than having adopted adult children like she does in canon. Sure, they could have been adopted or older, but there needed to be a reason for her to stay with Kurt for the amount of time that she did. I needed her connected to Karl in someway too. Heisenberg was originally supposed to have a twin brother so I went off of that and now Alcina has her annoying ex brother-in-law(who actually isn’t so bad in this universe, but Alcina won’t hear of it)
As for The Fall of the House of Dimitrescu. I’m sure no one is asking, but in that case Alcina was weak from her hereditary blood disease and didn’t have the energy to be defiant the same way she was as a child. Her father had lost his wife and he had no desire to continue caring for Alcina so he set her up with somebody who she reluctantly went along with. In that case, Alcina wasn’t even aware of her attraction to women yet, she just didn’t understand why she didn’t feel a spark with her soon to be husband. She also assumed it was normal for sex to be an unpleasant “wifely duty.” Once she finally made the connection and had an affair with a woman, turns out she liked sex quite a bit lmao.
Idk, all this aside, I know I’m not the only one who has given Alcina a husband in some context yet still fully believes shes a lesbian. I also have plenty of fics where she’s never had one. The first multichapter fic I wrote she literally left her home and privileged life behind to struggle until she made it as musician rather than marry a man. I don’t think it’s a crime to explore other possibilities. I have so many different headcanons for Alcina and all are universe dependent whether that be modern AU, the canon compliant timeline where she never marries, the canon compliant timeline where she does, and all the other in between stuff that diverges from canon. She’s one of my favorite characters of all time and I love fleshing her out.
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dimiclaudeblaigan · 1 year
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LOL I can totally see Claude being embarrassed about Rodrigue's "dad behaviour" but I think he would also love to hear all the childhood anecdotes Rodi has to tell about the Faerghus Four, probably embarrassing Dimi and mortifying Felix, haha. And yes, Rodrigue would be good with Sylvain. I think he could also make Matthias realize that their sons really love each other and even though Sylvain cannot pass on his Crest this way, that it will be ok in their new future (I mean, they could still
[2] adopt kids. Honestly, Sylvain would be a cool dad. And I imagine Felix would be more openly soft with his kids than his usual snarling wildcat persona he pulls off when he likes to pretend he doesn't care xD. Dimitri would be such a good father, too. We already know from canon that he loves kids, like teaching the orphans, AM ending mural and this monk who tells Byleth he saw Dimi caring for an orphan even in his boar phase. Claude would be great, too and I see him being naturally good
[3] with kids on the surface but also a bit of insecure inside bc of his own childhood. His own parents aren't exactly good role models *cough* and though he seems not always aware of the impact their upbringing had on him, I think he would want to do better with his own children. And Rodrigue would tell the kids adventurous bedtime stories. Tbh I could even see any kid Sylvix may adopt melting "the wall of ice". Rodrigue and Matthias as great grandpa duo is a headcanon I didn't know I need lol
Oops sorry for the long ask. I got a bit carried away with my "kids/grandchildren" headcanon lol
YEAH like since Claude doesn’t know much affection from a parental figure I feel like he’d be a bit shy about it at first, but he’d also want to hear the stories about Dimi and what the group did as kids. Felix would absolutely be mortified, he’d be doing anything in his power to stop Rodrigue from continuing but Dimi and Sylvain would hold him back because if they have to suffer, Felix does too. 😤
Tbh I like the idea of Sylvain opening up to Rodrigue about his feelings about his own father and how he’d like to be closer to him but Matthias just isn’t really “hanging out with” material. Rodrigue is much more emotional and more readily available for heart to hearts, but Matthias won’t have even that much with his own kid(s). Might even be a good way to get Rodrigue to talk to Matthias about trying a bit harder since they could die at any time from something like even a Sreng invasion. Also, it might be good for Rodrigue too since he always wants to talk to Felix but Felix isn’t interested and always acts angry about literally nothing. I think he’d be happy to have someone rely on him for advice besides Dimitri who he already considers a son.
In Hopes Dimitri also mentions the power of Crest bloodlines is getting weaker anyway and they have to prepare for that. That’s in his support with Sylvain too if I’m not mistaken. It’d be interesting if Sylvain adopted a kid instead of having his own (since I imagine nobility/royalty would be pressured to have blood children bc of their bloodlines, even if they weren’t with someone they could have children with). It’d be like preparing for that by raising a child to be ready in the same way any Gautier would be, but without the bloodline or relic’s power to help.
Felix would be a good parent imo because you can tell he’s not really that aggressive with people outside of his best friends. Felix has this weird attitude where he’s nicer/more considerate with others than with his best friends, where he doesn’t hold back or play the nice guy when he has something to say. He’s nice to them when he has no reason to be angry/aggravated, like how he personally goes to Sylvain in their B support specifically to apologize, but he gets aggravated again when Sylvain says something stupid.
Specifically, his childhood friends each have reasons he’s more snappy with them (Sylvain saying dumb shit and acting like nothing matters to him including his own life, Dimitri being so violent toward enemies but being kind and polite otherwise and Felix doesn’t understand that and is somewhat afraid of him bc of that, and Ingrid is too deep into knighthood in a way that goes completely against Felix’s beliefs on knighthood and hates the extremities Ingrid takes it to).
So, like, I think he’d actually be a really good and gentle father generally, but probably be more strict just because of things like not wanting his kid to grow up to be like Ingrid, to make the mistakes Dimitri made or to be as whimsical and careless as Sylvain. Tbh I think Felix would be one of the most devastated parents ever if he lost a child. Obviously most people would be like that if they lost a kid, but I think Felix would take it a lot harder than even the expected norm.
Claude and Dimi would be amazing parents imo! Dimi is already very good with kids but I think they’d find him fun and be amazed by him. I think Claude would be the more awkward one since he grew up so isolated and didn’t have a group of friends growing up like Dimi did, so I think his understanding of how to behave in a way that a child would enjoy would need a crutch to lean on, like watching Dimi interact with them and learning from that. Since he also grew up basically being emotionally stunted and not having experience from his own life to go off of, I feel like he’d need the experience through watching others first. After that I think he’d be more confident about it and be able to handle kids better. He’d definitely be an overprotective dad when the kid was really young though imo just out of experience and instinct. I feel like Claude would be the stricter parent, not on purpose but because his mind would just always be like “YOUR KID IS ADOPTED BY TWO MEN AND ON TOP OF THAT YOU’RE BOTH ROYALS WHICH MAKES FOR A HIGH BOUNTY AND LOTS OF PPL ALREADY HATE YOU SO OFC THEY’D HATE YOUR KID TOO AND YOU CAN NEVER BE TOO TRUSTING WITH STRANGERS LEST SOMEONE KIDNAPS YOUR KID ETC ETC YOU GET IT CLAUDE”. Claude would be “be home by eight PM” parent and Dimi would be the “be home by eight PM if you’re not with a friend/have to get home by yourself, but be home by ten PM if you’re with a friend or people you trust”.
I also love this one idea/headcanon of mine that Mercedes teaches Dimi how to sew/knit and Dimi teaches Claude. I’d think Claude would know the basics of it, but since Dimi would know it beyond just basics from Mercedes’ help then I’d think he’d know more than Claude after working with her. I love the idea that Dimi and Claude would handmake lots of stuff for the orphans, so I bet they would do that for their own kid(s) too. I feel like they’d love handmaking things for their kids since they’d feel more special than things they bought!
ALSO I love the idea of Claude asking Rodrigue for advice on how to handle his kid(s) bc like sure Dimi is good with kids, but Rodrigue has had children and is a grown adult, so he’s not still learning how to raise his own kids like Dimi would be. Maybe him asking for advice would be how Rodrigue gets into telling all these stories to the kids (Dmcl and Sylvix kids both!), and Claude listens too sometimes to learn from Rodrigue!
OKAY BUT LISTEN, Sylvain bringing his first kid (adopted or not) to Matthias and Matthias actually crying about Sylvain being a dad and seeing how much of a good dad Sylvain became even despite Matthias himself not being much of a father to Sylvain... He’d be so happy to see that even though he wasn’t much of a father, Sylvain still became a great dad and he’d realize he didn’t ruin things for Sylvain’s parenthood and be so grateful. I can see him telling Rodrigue about that and being so proud of Sylvain and Rodrigue just being SO HAPPY to see Matthias being emotional because it’d been such a long, long time since he was. Maybe he’d even hug Sylvain and thank him for bringing back the old Matthias he used to know by being a good father.
No worries on getting carried away! I love hearing other people’s Dmcl/Sylvix headcanons and family headcanons! If you ever just wanna drop some in my ask box just to let them out or talk headcanons, feel free. I don’t mind how long they are! If you’re having fun talking about them then that’s good and I’m happy you’re having fun! :)
#DCB Ask#DimiClaude#Sylvix#I love that these ships often go hand in hand since it's like#Dimi's childhood friends being there his whole life like part of his life his whole life#and Claude getting to meet these childhood friends of his husband a bit better and actually having real friends outside the GD#like people he can trust and rely on at any time. if he needs something dire like he could go to Felix and#ask for help and he could expect to not be let down. like literally considering Felix and Sylvain family#like when you have family holidays and stuff and you have to go visit your spouse's side of the family?#kinda like that when eventually you've been together so long that you're just considered part of that family and#there's no difference based on like ''you married into this family'' but just ''you and he both are equally family now''#I think it'd be like that with these two ships and Claude would be really really happy bc he'd have a whole big#extended family by marrying Dimi. He'd have Rodrigue and Matthias ofc but also Ingrid#and really he'd have Gilbert and Annette bc he'd have Gilbert from being more directly associated to Dimi's childhood#but then also Annette by extension of Gilbert#I think Ashe would eventually be close to him too working as a royal knight since they'd see each other all the time in Faerghus#and similarly Nader and Judith would be like family to Dimitri too#I love the idea of Judith picking on Claude and goofing on him by always taking Dimi's side in stuff lol#kinda like visiting Faerghus and talking to Dimi like I hope the boy hasn't been causing you too much trouble#and Claude's like Judith nooooooOOOOOO that's my husbaaaaaand#and she's like ''exactly :)''#I feel like Claude would be so so happy with such a large extended family that sometimes he'd even forget they weren't family his whole life#like instead of going to those family gatherings for whatever reason it wouldn't be ''going to see his husband's family''#but ''going to see his family'' bc he and Dimi's family are just the same thing now#also I stick my Sylvain and Dimi friendship in like most of my dmcl fics lmao so I always imagine that#Sylvain and Claude would get closer from both having the desire to really protect and take care of Dimi bc they'd both be#so happy that there's someone else who loves Dimi just as much. just like Claude would always protect him and never leave his side#Sylvain's like that too like literally canonically is like that with Dimi and in both games and it's so sweet#HAPPY DMCL AND SYLVIX FAM!!!
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bejeweledblondie · 7 months
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Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcannons
A/N: these are loosely inspired from real life experiences I’ve had living on a military base, these men have a on & off switch it’s crazy
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Warnings: NSFW
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• Simon first saw you while he was in the States for a training exercise, he was out at one of the local bars with some of the other soldiers he was with
• Soap had actually asked for your number first & since he was so intoxicated you turned him down
• Simon apologized for Soap & that’s how you met
• he did have a heart attack when he found out there was a bit of a age gap between you two but quickly got over it when he realized how mature you were
• it was a long distance relationship at first (from personal experience it sucks in the beginning)
• there were times when he couldn’t talk due to the risk of potentially exposing his teams location so you had to write letters every now & then
• you cried constantly whenever you saw some horrific news in the paper about what was going on overseas, the anxiety was awful
• but when he returned the reunions were euphoric
• you have a bottle of his cologne & aftershave so you can always feel close to him
• and you’d spray your perfume on the letters you sent so he couldn’t always smell the paper when he was missing you
• it took him sometime to open up to you about what had happened to him in his past, & your respected that
• when he first met your family, he was shocked by all the support he had received from them
• he asked your parents to marry you the first time he met them & showed them the ring too (ofc they said yes)
• he proposed to you in private after a nice dinner, he got choked up during the proposal
• your dad specifically was elated, he got to brag at how bad ass his son in law is
• your mom if she’s a teacher, had her entire class send cards, candy, anything they’d need in care packages Soap nearly cried when he opened the sweetest letter from a little girl (this actually happened irl my mom’s class did this & one guy got really choked up)
• Simon always would be your fiercest protector
• since he’s like an freakin tree he will guide your head with his bear paw of a hand in crowds
•he CANNOT sit with his back facing the door it stresses him out
•this man is strapped 24/7 whether that be a knife, bear spray etc. he’s ready
•he has a trauma kit in his car because “you never know”
•Simon is 1000% one of those apocalypse preppers you have freeze dried food, medicine, water, etc. he’s always on edge
• he sleeps with a damn rifle next to y’all’s bed
• you have a whole security system too
• your guy’s apartment is impeccable like you could eat off of the floor
• hell your guy’s bed has damn hospital corners
• Simon adopted a cat so you don’t feel as lonely when he’s deployed
• He’s your chonky boy & you do send plenty of photos to Simon when he’s deployed
• Gaz & Soap tease him about him living his “cat dad” life
• you start trying for a baby two years into your marriage
• Simon does fall victim to the “curse of the infantry” (which is not a negative thing btw it’s a running joke that infantry soldiers have all daughters) he makes girls
• he was deployed during your pregnancy & was worried sick he nearly missed the birth of your daughter
• that little girl is the most well protected baby in the whole world, the Task Force gifted him not just baby stuff but damn security for the nursery
• He watches your baby from his phone in the nursery on deployment, he was silently crying once when he was watching you sing a lullaby to your baby girl
•Price had to comfort him father to father
•In reality Simon has a very hard cold exterior at work for the sake of keeping his mental health for the profession he’s in but deep down he’s always held a soft spot & your relationship just brings it out
✨NSFW ✨
• there is a big size difference between you two & it drives him insane
• the first time y’all had together he didn’t want to break you in half
• when he returns from deployment y’all go at it like rabbits for multiple rounds, your poor pussy was so sore afterwards
• has a massive corruption & daddy kink
• he’s an ass man I don’t make the rules here so any position where your ass if the focal point is his favorite
• y’all have made so many sex tapes for him when he’s deployed, he has a whole folder on his phone & jerks off to them in the bathroom or the porta potty (it’s a canon event, trust me) to them
• he lets your cockwarm him constantly when you’re on the couch, when he’s working, hell y’all had even fallen asleep like that
• I know people say he has a Prince Albert piercing but alas per army regulation that is safety risk I think it’s more likely he’d use a cock ring on you
• during a military ball you two snuck off & fucked in a supply closet
• he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room after seeing you in your gown, it was red his favorite color
• and he just looked so fucking good in his dress uniform, that was the night you totally conceived your baby girl
• he groans into your ear when he cums & he’ll use his body to just eclipse yours
• “one more baby girl” & “c’mon pretty girl use your words tell me what you want”
• is a sucker for babydoll lingerie it brings your innocence & triggers his corruption kink
• moral of the story Simon Riley fucks
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lovifie · 17 days
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Price had a young girlfriend and did not tell anybody until he decided to get married...
He probably didn't tell them until the night before the wedding…He asked them to come over for a little celebration and everyone expected a middle-aged woman. But when they saw a girl in her mid-20s opening the door with Price they were shocked
Soap probably even asked if she's his stepdaughter LOL
Hey, love!! 💗💗
I wrote you a little something...
I hope you like it 💗
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❤️Mr. & Mrs. Price❤️
Masterlist
They were having a pint at a pub close to base when he told them. 
“I'm getting married next Saturday, you have the weekend free, so drop by so I can introduce you to the missus.”
Now, Ghost wasn't surprised he didn't know about his captain having a girlfriend, let alone a relationship serious enough to talk about marriage. What surprised Ghost was that neither Soap nor Gaz knew about it. 
“Married?!” Gaz asked, loud enough to make some people turn their heads. 
Price furrows his eyebrow, surprised by the reaction as if he had just told them about what he's having from breakfast. 
“I didnae ken ye had a pretty bird waiting for ye at home, Captain!” Soap says, just as loud.
“Yeah, I have for a couple of years now.” Price simply answers, shrugging his shoulders as he takes a sip.
“A couple of years?!” The three men ask in unison like a bad comedic joke. 
A chain of questions starts to unravel, curiosity for the mysterious woman pouring out; but Price waves his hand shutting them up. “No point in that, you are meeting her this weekend, easier that way”
They begrudgingly agree, keeping to themselves the mental image of the possible woman. She must be around Price's age, so between 40 and 50 years old; knowing how little the man likes to go out they probably met at work so she must be military too. Stern woman. 
Price tells them that is something minor, the close family and a bunch of friends; that they can join at the reception at his house and to dress nicely. 
“No ghost mask.” He chastises the man pointing at him. “I don't want work involved, alright?”
During the week until the wedding, they keep thinking about her, about how she must look like, her personality, her age, her eye colour.
“What do you think she'll look like?”
“In my mind, she's like Laswell… but being into men.”
And out of every possibility and different mental image, the last thing they expected was the pretty thing that opened the door for them on Saturday. 
Pretty little thing, around 25 years old, with the kindest smile on her face even when looking at the three giants on her doorframe, flowy white dress, little hair strands framing her cute face with the rest of it gathered up in an intricate updo in the back hold together with shiny pins and a silky bow. 
“Oh, you must be John's friends.” You say, voice sweet as an angel. “Please, come in, don't just stand there. I'm gonna go get him, be back in a second”
You step back, holding the door open for them, inviting them in and once inside you close the door, walking past them to reach their captain who is looking in the opposite direction, talking to somebody else.
“That must be the stepdaughter… right?” Soap asks what all of them are thinking. 
They stare as you walk up to Price, placing your hand on his lower back making him turn to look at you; a wide smile appearing immediately. He leans forward, his arm moving behind your shoulder and his hand keeping your jaw in place as he kisses you. 
Lips crashing against yours, closing his eyes and letting his tongue into your mouth tasting the champagne you were drinking just a moment ago. A passionate, sloppy kiss that would make a maiden blush at the impropriety of it even for the newlyweds.
“Mate, I sure fucking hope she's not.” Gaz answers after a moment.
The two of you finally pull back, telling Price about his friends arriving and he looks behind you to see them. He smiles, not as wide as when he looked at you, and gives you a quick peck before walking to the door. 
“Welcome, lads. Thank you for coming.” He says simply, crossing his arms and looking proud. You appear from behind him, hand resting on his arm slightly leaning to his side.
“Do you want anything to drink? To eat?” You ask softly, love pouring out of Price's eyes as he looks down on you. 
“I'll help you.” Ghost says, a curl of his lips you could identify as a smile if you wanted to. And once the captain is left with the sergeants, the attack starts. 
“How does an old churl like you manages to get a pretty thing like her?”
“Where do you even meet a doll like her?”
“How many years have you exactly been dating for?”
Ghost clears his throat when he turns around the corner on his way back, with you chirping on his side about how happy you are to finally meet them. He has a more natural smile on his face now, clearly infected with your enthusiasm. 
Price finally introduces you to them, exchanging everyone's name. You hug both the sergeants and shake Ghost's hand, the man glad that you made the observation of his lack of appreciation towards body contact. 
After a little chat, you excuse yourself; promising to get back in a while wanting to talk to your own friends still waiting around the room. It leaves Price on his own and that's when he tells the nosy men how he met you. 
You were his neighbour, sharing half the walls of the old flat he house to live in before moving in together. How he introduced himself to you one day when he saw you leaving your house, how he told you he was military so you wouldn't freak out if you saw him in the middle of the night or suddenly disappeared for months, how after a specially long deployment he got back and you dropped by hours later with a bunch of tupperwares with homemade food “I assumed you would be tired, it's nothing special but I'll save you the hustle of cooking”, about how he had wanted to marry you ever since, how he gave you the tupperwares back one by one so he had more reasons to talk to you, how he finally asked you out with the last one and how after that it all was easy between you two.
The four of them swiftly move to sit down on the kitchen table, Price still telling them everything about you and the relationship. Ghost is just as invested as the other two, trying to play it off as polite interest. Slowly and smoothly people leave the house as the day goes by, the sun having set a couple of hours ago; and you walk into the kitchen, sitting on Price's lap with a sigh. 
“I know it isn't proper of a good host, but these shoes are killing me.” You announce looking at the three men as you bend down and take them off, a sigh of comfort leaving your mouth as you lean back on Price. “I'm also sure you have endurance worse than some stinky feet.” You joke with a tiny chuckle making them smile. 
“Everyone gone, darling?” Price asks, his hands resting on your lap as you nod smiling. He looks up to the boys as he says. “Better to tidy up then”
“Jonathan Price, don't be rude!” You exclaim looking at him. “They are your friends and there are more than enough rooms for them if they want to spend the night. They have been drinking too!”
“Mrs. Price.” John says with a teasing tone, standing up and helping you stand. “Talk to me for a second, love.”
Price bends down to pick your shoes up, holding your hand to walk you to the living room. They hear the two of you whispering back and forth, then silence and lastly the unmistakable sound of kisses. They peak behind the door, managing to see you sitting in the backrest of the sofa with Price standing between your legs, grinding his hips against yours. You moan softly against his lips, before pulling back and whispering something they can't make out; Price pulls back as well and they sit back on their chairs. 
Price walks in just a second later. “Lads… thank you for coming, I'll see you when I'm back from the honeymoon, now… OUT!” He barks the last word making Soap chuckle as they all finish their drink in a gulp and start to walk out of the house, congratulating Price on the marriage and walking out one by one; meanwhile, you remain completely out of sight for them.
“They gone?” You ask for the top of the stairs, looking at Price with a smile. 
“Yep.” Price says locking the door.
“You didn't have to kick them out like that, though.” You say cocking your head with a smile.
“Oh, yes, I did.” He says, turning around to start to walk up the stairs. 
“Why? Afraid they might join?” You say winking at him, making him laugh before he throws you over his shoulder making you shriek.
“Wouldn't you like that, you little minx!” He jokes, landing a smack on your asscheek. 
You gasp dramatically holding onto his clothes. “It's Mrs. Price to you, young man.”
He chuckles, making your body shake, before he throws you down on the bed; him instantly crawling on top of you. 
“Who's your husband, darling?”
“You, Mr. Price.”
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thebeesatemyknees · 8 months
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141 as ex-husbands
Some ex-husband (ooc) Simon Ghost Riley, John Price, Kyle Gaz Garrick and Johnny Soap MacTavish x reader headcanons.
Word count: 860 || No warnings (let me know if any). || Reader: gender neutral. Pronouns: "you"
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Note: In all four scenarios, you got divorced for fairly harmless reasons. You were getting along, you loved each other, there was no fighting. But perhaps you realised that you both have different hopes for the future. Maybe you got sick of waiting for him, missing him, of worrying if he's gonna come home alive and in one piece. Maybe he didn't realise how lonely you felt beside him.
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Ex-husband Simon Riley, who still thinks of you as "his", but not in a possessive way. You're still his person, his family. He still would do anything for you and wouldn't even give it a second thought. 
You need help assembling new furniture? He can come by after work. Need a ride to the doctor's appointment? He needed to run some errands anyway, it's not a big deal. Anything happens while he's deployed? You can call his base and he'll contact you as soon as possible.
And he doesn't expect anything back. How could he? He's gonna do anything for you because that's what you're supposed to do for your people. And he'll give you your space, keep it clean between you. You wanted a divorce and he respects that, doing his best not to overstep any boundaries. He's mindful of the things he says, keeps his hands away from you. A respectful distance.
But God, does he miss you. If you showed the slightest interest in getting back together, he would agree immediately, going back to what you two had, as if the divorce never happened. 
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Ex-husband John Price, who kinda forgets that you're not married anymore. Similar to Simon, John still thinks of you as his and would do anything for you without expecting anything back. 
But you often have to remind him that he's overstepping. "Darling" or "love" casually added to his sentences. Hands gently holding your shoulders or hips while he directs you to move to a different spot. He doesn't do it on purpose. The last thing he'd want is to disrespect your boundaries or make you uncomfortable. But keeping you close just comes so naturally to him.
He apologises quietly when you reprimand him, pulling his hands away and restating what he said without the pet name this time.
He wouldn't beg you to give him another chance. He's got enough respect, towards you and himself, to not be dramatic, to not make it messy. But he has a hard time accepting this new reality.
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Ex-husband Kyle Garrick, who subconsciously goes back to courting you, as if your marriage never happened and all of it was still ahead of you. 
He's more distant, doesn't initiate touches, doesn't use pet names anymore. And at first you think it's because that's just how break-ups work, because he'd moved on. But it all seems to be caused by him suddenly becoming almost shy around you. 
He sends you messages from time to time, checking if you're doing alright. He asks you out for coffee, just to catch up. You ended things on good terms, so there's no harm in it, right? And you can see him trying to act casually about it. He brings you one singular flower he picked on his way to the café. Cuz you like them, don't you? It's not a big deal, he saw it and put it in the pocket of his jacket. So casual. Then, your conversation stays on a purely platonic path. Well, except for a few compliments and pick up lines he throws your way. But that's what friends do! And if you don't let him drive you home, he asks you to at least text him to let him know you got back safely.
If you confront him about his behaviour, he gets quiet. His jaw twitches, a shameful look fills his eyes as he looks away, unable to fully face you. He doesn't feel like he's in the position to defend himself, to argue. He's guilty. He wants you back for himself. And he so badly regrets letting you go without trying harder to fix things.
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Ex-husband Johnny MacTavish, who becomes bitter towards the whole world. He's not happy about losing you and he's straightforward about it. He's hurt, filled with regrets, he's angry - but not directly at you. He understands and respects your wishes, but he's just so angry with himself. Angry that he didn't notice where your marriage was going, that he didn't change his ways, that he assumed that you're his and therefore he's got a lot of time to slowly fix things. Angry that he didn't do enough. 
He wouldn't hide his emotions. He wouldn't get shy,  wouldn't just quietly yearn for you. 
He keeps his hands to himself, making sure he doesn't make you uncomfortable and that you still feel safe around him. But he continuously asks you for another chance. He knows better now. He can be better. Just give him a chance. Or at least let him do this or that for you. And don't act as if him helping you is weird! He's yours, nothing will change that. He promised he'd be there in sickness and in health, and he meant it. No matter how much your life-paths split. So stop pushing him away and just let him help. He'll stop asking you for a second chance, but at least let him be there for you.
He aggressively offers himself to you. Getting upset and moody if you act as if he was more akin to a stranger rather than someone who belonged, body and soul, to you.
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moonastro · 2 months
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Juno persona chart
The sun in the houses
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what is a juno persona chart? looking into juno persona chart gives more detailed insight of how the relationship and marriage overall of you and your spouse will be like. it also describes them in a sense as well. The Greek Goddess Juno is described to rule over love and marriage and hence why the asteroid is looked into for that theme.
the sun represents the self, ego and personality. in juno persona chart the sun can determine how the overall vibe of the marriage will be. what shines and what is most acknowledged in your marriage.
reminder: this is my interpretation from observations and first hand experiences, so don't take this to heart.
sun in 1st house: marriage is a main theme in your life. you were meant to be married. as the 1st ruled the self, appearance, way of thinking, your marriage could be very lovey dovey. you admire each other very much. marriage will fit you very well, you may have always wanted to marry. marriage can make you find yourself and allow you to become your truest self. like it can make you do things that you have always wanted to do that you couldn't before. can make you more independent and allow you to take care of yourself and focus on yourself. marriage can be a whole new beginning for you and your approach to life will significantly change. this placement tends to really focus on marriage and really hyper focus on every aspect that comes with marriage life. your appearance may change and people may have a different perspective of you.
spouse can be mars or mercury ruled, have 1st house placements and have dominant aries placements.
sun in 2nd house: the 2nd house rules money, income, resources. marriage can be very financially abundant and can bring lots of income to you and your partner. there is a strong emphasis on shared resources. the couple may share the same values in life and may agree on similar ways of doing things. There will be tendencies to express your love to each other very creatively. your habits can change drastically through marriage or can mean that your spouse and you share similar habits. this placement screams shared finances and sharing income especially through a bank account. marriage is affectionate and has lots of intimacy involved, this may be the glue to marriage through affection and being grateful for each other. there can be strong physical bonds so there can be lots of hand holding, hugging, cuddling etc.
spouse can have taurus prominent placements. they can have dominant 2nd house placements as well. can be venus ruled.
sun in 3rd house: marriage is very communication based and can have you looking at intellectual pursuits. perhaps when you get married you finally decide to pursue knowledge based lifestyles such as learning new things academically. The marriage is very expressive through speech and expressing their thoughts to each other. this placement reminds me of a couple who are just constantly working on their laptops but they work together at home so they still spend time together. its that type of vibe. marriage can feel familiar and you having a sense of familiarity with your spouse. this can be like a sibling bond so very loving and playful and sometimes argumentative. your spouse and you will talk CONSTANTLYYY like i feel like if you are in the same room and don't talk for a few minutes it may feel strange or just out of place. this placement needs constant communication with each other.
spouse can be mercury or moon ruled, have significant gemini placements or have 3rd house dominance.
sun in 4th house: marriage for this placement is very family oriented, both parties take care of each other and are rather traditional with gender roles. marriage can be all about comfort and being there for each other emotionally. marriage can be full of traditions and sharing family roots with each other. heritage and ancestry may be a big theme for this placement and usually value privacy. this placement usually keeps their intimate and personal lives between themselves, this is to make it more meaningful for each other. the couples go to place to spend time with each other is most likely their home and maybe ordering in and watching some movies with each other.
spouse can be moon ruled, have prominent cancer placements or have dominant 4th house placements.
sun in 5th house: this placement will have a very fun and loving marriage. this reminds me of a childhood best friend, you just get each other and have this flicker of romance every time you are with them. this is a good fortune house, so lots of life and memories are going to be created in the marriage. marriage can be full of creativity and risk taking. there may be lots of things that you haven't done before and therefore can cause new beginnings. there can be lots of availability to self- expression, maybe you will have the chance to express yourself to the fullest.
spouse can be venus or sun ruled, can have significant leo placements.
sun in 6th house: your daily routines and your daily lives are significant in marriage. health and well being can be prioritised here as well. Their can be a connection between the sense of self and your daily life in marriage. this means that marriage can influence you to develop a personal daily routine or have a responsibility to provide for others. after marriage this placement can manifest work work work for both parties and frankly may not have time for each other. everything can act very fast paced and it may feel like your days just go by very fast.
spouse may be mars ruled, have important mercury aspects, and have dominant virgo placement.
sun in 7th house: marriage will be on and off. i feel like the 7th house is about balance and you cant have the positives without the negatives. there will be lots of highs and lows and the highs will be very precious. its like whenever there is a very good day for the couple it can feel like the best thing ever. marriage can bring lots of partnerships meaning that you can do lots of things together. and of course there is the romance side of the 7th house so marriage can have romanticised features to it. there can also be open enemies withing the marriage.
spouse may be venus ruled, have libra dominance or have 7th house influence.
sun in 8th house: marriage can be very transformative in terms of daily life, your routine, mannerisms just everything. it will be something very different than you are used to. it will physically and mentally transform you as an individual. marriage may be very awakening and it can act like a total turn around. it is something you have never experienced before. this also reminds me of the couple admiring each other and staring at each others soul, just overall feeling a deep deep connection for each other. spouse can buy lots of things for you or in general can spend lots of money on each other as this house rules over partners money. this couple is a POWERR dynamic and have strong sexual desires for one another. this placement can bond over each others changes and can have a never ending phase of their honeymoon.
spouse may have scorpio and 8th house dominant placements. can be mars or pluto ruled.
sun in 9th house: this placement makes the marriage very educational. either one of the parties will have influence on the other in terms of life lessons. marriage can offer higher education offers and having time to study whether its together or them teaching you. this is a spiritual placement as well so there can be rituals that you may like to do together in marriage or possibly just share the same values and religious beliefs and cooperate those practises in your everyday life. your spouse and you may meet each other minds and may relate to the way the other is thinking. omggg the conversations are longggg. literally this placement allows the marriage to talk for hours on end and usually its about the deeper stuff in the world.
spouse may be jupiter dominant, have sagittarius placements or plenty of 9 house placements.
sun in 10th house: your marriage is known by many people. perhaps you had a will have big wedding or people are invested in your marriage life. as the 10th house is all about public, you may show yourself more in front of others express and show off your relationship in public. this can be a business oriented couple who work in the same business or have a business of their own. marriage can create rules and restrictions and you may feel trapped. the couple values their reputation and may act differently in public than at home. marriage can make both parties realise that they have shared life plans and joint purposes so they work together to reach and accomplish them.
spouse can have 10th house placements or have saturn influence. may also have significant capricorn placements.
sun in 11th house: very social and outgoing placement for marriage. when married you can meet lots of new people and just be part in many groups. will probably meet lots of friends through marriage. may have network influence and elations and may develop a social media following through marriage. lots of eyes can be on you and your marriage, people are influenced by your aspirations of the marriage. of course this placement can feel like you became friends to lovers and that may feel like that throughout the marriage, like you may act like friends one day and the other fall in love all over again. it can feel quite refreshing. you and your spouse will share lots and lots of things together and possibly both parties have joint aspirations and goals which make it easier to achieve something as its done together. your friendship in the marriage is well known and your bond is very clear in public.
spouse may have 11th house placements or are Uranus and jupiter dominant
sun in 12th house: marriage will be quite personal and secretive. i feel like this placement is the type to travel off grid and live life together with no contact. marriage will be full of travel and can feel like a dream at times. marriage can develop hidden enemies perhaps from jealousy or judgement. marriage can be something completely different that you thought it would be, it could make you think a lot about the decisions that you made. marriage can bring endings to attachments or relationships. this relates to the isolation part. also as this house rules old age, this placement reminds me of staying married till your old, its that type of marriage that you stay with them no matter what, through thick and thin through hardships and easy ships. this marriage is most likely karmic as you may have known them in a past life and have met in this lifetime to finish some work together.
spouse can have pisces or 12th house placements. can be saturn or jupiter ruled.
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thanks for reading😊🤍
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vivalabunbun · 2 months
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As We Are, We Will Be
Summary: A nonsensical question is proposed in one singular moment between a stoic and stoic face in one singular universe.
Word Count: 9k (It was supposed to be short and sweet-)
Tags: Alhaitham X Fem! Reader, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, a lot of fluff, slight angst, soulmate au, slow fic, established relationship, married life, Soft! Alhaitham, attempts at comedy, mentions of aging, slightly jealous! Alhaitham, mutual pinning, soft sex, vanilla, safe sex (wrap it up), riding (cowgirl), fingering, slow sex, making love, really bad expatiations of scientific theories and math, just two nerds in love.
Authors Note: Happy belated birthday and Valentine's Day to my favorite dendro nerd. A continuation of this piece, one I hold dear. A thought experiment based on nothing more than the feverish delirium of love.
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It was just for a moment. 
A mere pasting instance in the contentious momentum of time when a glimmer caught your eyes in the muddled chatter of a crowd, a silver shimmer like starlight.
Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source.
A late morning on a Saturday, the markets and stalls were lively with families replenishing a week's worth of groceries. Bodies veering and easing through the bustle of the busty streets.
The wide breadth of life that moved all around you. Like a collection of small dots within the vastness of a universe. 
But amid the vast collection of blurry faces were the flicker of silvery locks refracting the late morning light. Originating from a pair, an elderly lady and an elderly man, their aged hands intertwined. 
Time had made her marks upon them, and gravity had pulled down on their wrinkled faces. Yet, the ends of their lips were pointed toward the sky. The corners of their eyes wrinkled as their gazes held each other's faces. 
From their view, do they not see the starlight hue of their hair? Instead, do they still see the vibrancy and youth of their locks which age had stolen from them? 
The image of each other reflected in their irises, was it from a time before the hands of gravity pulled on their creased skin and bowed bones? Would you ever be able to find out? 
“I wasn’t aware you had a hobby of people-watching.” A baritone voice ghosts over your ear. 
Jolting your head to your right, you come face to face with the interruption. Or perhaps, your mind finally registered Alhaitham’s presence just off to the side of you. His arms were weighted down with various bags. 
Oh, that’s right, the markets and stalls were lively on the weekend with families restocking groceries for the upcoming week. You and Alhaitham were no different. 
Glancing up at his ashen trestles and then scanning back at the starlight locks of the elderly couple, and then back to your husband. 
“Hmm, not quite. Just noting the fact your hair is the same color as an old man’s, Haitham.” You catch the subtle twitch of his brow. 
“Is that so? I hope you are aware you’re not immune to the inevitably of aging, wife,” Alhaitham returns your jest. 
“Well, with your hair color and grumpiness, I’d say you’re already halfway there.” 
“I needn’t expound on your equivalent levels of grumpiness, it won’t be long before your locks share the same ashen hue.” 
“I guess that’s why we get along then, dear husband.” 
“That’s one theory,” he huffs, a simple tone lacking any bite.
You pan your face back toward the crowd, partly because it’s getting harder to hold the neutral position of your lips, partly because your curiosity aches for an untold conclusion. 
However, when your gaze returned to the ever-bustling sea of people, the pair of starlight hues were nowhere to be found. It was regrettable, but expected, the elderly couple were nothing more than a pair of strangers in a crowd full of unfamiliar faces.
They were just a brief scene that disappeared into the moving tides of people. 
Leaving you with your unresolved musings. 
“Is there anything else we need for the week?” 
Alhaitham’s voice reels your consciousness back, swiftly you check the crinkled slip of parchment within your hand. Scanning down the list of written items, all with a neat little line crossed through their immaculately penned letters. 
“It looks like we got everything we need.” You tuck the list into your pocket. 
“Then it’s best we get home before our groceries are spoiled by the heat.” Alhaitham readjusts the bags in his hands. 
A hum takes its place as your response. Pivoting your body in the direction of your shared home. From the corner of your field of view, his strides were paced to coincide with your shorter steps. 
Studying the numerous bags occupying his hands, you can’t help but think it’s quite convenient to have someone as robust as your husband. Maybe it's these weekly grocery runs that are the secret behind his physique. 
Discreetly, your hand slowly slips between the gap of his arm and body, linking your elbows together. So that your frame and his could withstand the push and pull of the crowd’s contentious momentum. 
The neutrality of your lips had long slipped away, softened by the familiarity of his warmth. Even as your eyes were pointed on the path ahead, you had an inkling that a similar occurrence was mirrored on his lips as well. 
An inquiry your curiosity didn’t need to peek to resolve. 
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That ache for an untold conclusion morphed into a new musing by the afternoon. 
The silver shimmer from that elderly couple’s hair truly was like starlight. Perhaps that’s the correlation that steered your thoughts down this winding path of pondering. 
Everyone, from those taking their first stumbling steps of youth to the slowed cane-assisted tramps in their golden years, is technically billions of years old. Or more accurately, the atoms and minerals in everyone are billions of years old. 
The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood were all forged in the hearts of bygone stars. When those bright beacons burned out they exploded in one last finale, expelling those materials across interstellar space. Stardust that found its way here. 
Here within you, and here within the slow breaths of the man in front of you. 
After being around for billions of years, does stardust ever get exhausted? 
That would be a sensible explanation for why Alhaitham had snuck away amidst hanging up freshly washed laundry. 
His tall frame stretched the expanse of the couch as his starlight lashes were shut, shamelessly relishing in a nap under the streams of sunlight trickled in from the window. 
Squatting down you observe the guiltless expression plastered over his resting face, still deep in the trenches of sleep, a small huff passes through your lips. Well, this morning you did have him carry all the groceries from the market back home.
Your husband does deserve this little nap.
Trailing your eyes down his neck you note the lack of a pillow, then as your gaze travels further you note the absence of a blanket as well. Internally, your mind tsks at this forgetful habit of his. 
Although his body and yours still have youth coursing through your veins, it doesn’t mean they’ll remain as impervious as they are now later down the line, especially if preventative measures aren’t taken.
Like having a pillow to support one’s neck, or a blanket to prevent chills from plaguing the body. 
Standing back to full height, you retrieved the missing artifacts, returning with a plush pillow and light comforter.  
Even when his head was momentarily lifted to make space for the pillow, and when the spare comforter was draped over him, Alhaitham didn’t stir one bit. At times you can’t determine if he’s a light sleeper or if his stubbornness refuses to leave the plain of dreams. 
It’s a true wonder of life how Alhaitham’s able to sleep so soundly at night given his extensive naps. 
The vivid sunlight illuminated patterns upon his cheeks and trestles, causing the ashen strands to dazzle in their refraction of the afternoon light. A sight your eyes just couldn’t help but be enraptured by. 
Maybe you could blame the warmth of the sunlight, or maybe the serenity of this quiet Saturday afternoon, or perhaps even these fickle inquiries about his naps for the yawn that left your lips. Now might be the prime time for some research. 
Lifting up the comforter just enough for an opportunity to slip through, your body settles in the space right against his. It’s crowded on the couch, the cushions unprepared for two bodies to occupy its entirety, the open edge looming against your back.
Even after all the shuffling and pressing against his dozing frame, your husband didn’t budge a bit. 
Leaden lashes still shut and lips set in that all too familiar line, chest rhythmically rising and falling in time with yours. The very image of unperturbedness under the blessing of sleep. 
“You really are like an old man.” 
At that mere jab, the corners of his lips tugged down while his eyes remained closed. A quick slip that confirmed your earlier suspicions. 
“Who knew you were so talented in acting, Haitham,” you snicker. 
A muscular arm soon enveloped your form, further pressing you against his chest as if to silence any more sardonic quips from entering his ears. 
It was quite the challenge to stifle those giggles before they could erupt from your lips. Peeking up, there’s an ever-so-subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. An express which yours mirrored. 
Studying the details of the lips just a breath away, a new musing worms its way into your thoughts:
 When the hands of gravity and time start to pull down on his skin and yours the same, leaving wrinkles and creases in their wake, will the edges of his lips still curl like this? 
Would yours mirror the same? 
A second yawn sneaks past your lips as your lashes grow heavier with each fluttering blink. Claiming a corner of the pillow to lay your head upon, the seconds between each subsequent blink grew longer and longer until your lids were too heavy to lift. 
Perhaps the stardust in your bones was exhausted, craving a short rest in his warmth. 
--------------------------------
There’s something against your back and your legs are tangled in something, sensations which gradually alert your dozing sense back from the fog of slumber.
At first, you only had the strength to peek open one lid, then promptly shut it. But in the nothingness behind your eyelids, something was halting your limps from stretching the weariness out from themselves. 
You tried again, this time fluttering both sets of lashes apart ever so slightly. There’s a dry film coating your throat and mouth, feeling the impressions of the couch cushions and bundled comforter imprinted into your skin.  
What time was it?
Blinking away the haze of sleep just enough to notice how the golden rays of a star were missing. A gray overlay was plastered over the living room despite the ticking clock hands displaying that it was late afternoon.
Peering back through the window behind, observing the congregating insipid clouds blocking out the azure sky. 
A sure sign of rain despite the morning forecast. Rain… wasn’t there something left unfinished on the clotheslines outside? The groggy recollection of responsibilities creeps into the forefront of your mind. 
The reign of your weary limbs slowly returns, and your legs languidly attempt to stretch out from the reveal they were caught in. However, their movements only caused a pair of longer limbs to ensnarl them further.
Alhaitham’s legs promptly caught yours, stifling any prospect of escape. 
Your displeased whine was responded with a disgruntled groan by the man keeping your body locked against his. 
Wasn’t your back looming just about the edge of the couch when you fell asleep? So why are you in this position now?
Your body wedged between the plush backing of the couch and his solid frame, the comforter swaddling you also didn’t aid in your immobility. Brawny arm draped over your waist, halting your feeble squirms at freedom. 
“The laundry,” you mumble.
“Later.” A blunt interjection from a groggy voice. 
“It’s going to rain.” 
“Less than a 30% chance.” 
“Haitham…” 
Your husband simply burrows his head deeper into the leveled pillow, likely an attempt to leverage the cushy material to block out your grievances. His ashen lashes still stubbornly shut, much to your displeasure.
“Alhaitham.”
No fluctuations in your volume nor tone, but it was enough for one teal eye to peek out from under ashen lashes. Trailing up to a subtle frown to the furrow between your brow, then finally meeting your unamused stare.
“Laundry,” you try again. 
A silent stare down, one stone face gazing upon an equally stoic face, like an immovable object pressed against an equally immovable object.
Which one will defend their title of most stubborn today? 
His chest expands with a deep breath, grasp enclosing around your waist before his teal gaze shamelessly vanishes behind closed lashes. Robust frame pinning you further to the back of the couch as he continues to ignore your huffy floundering. 
“Release me, don’t you dare-” 
Your grievance was soon muffled by a gentle hand pressing your cheek into his palatial chest. A move that stupefies the irksomeness bubbling within until it falls defeated into placidness. 
“Whether it be now or later, they’ll be clean regardless, it’s quite comfortable right here.” The resonance of his voice vibrates in his chest. 
You respond with a humbled grunt. In terms of strength you’d always lose to your feeble husband, wouldn’t you? 
There’s no point in peering up, for the pleased satisfaction of his resting face would bring a sour taste to your tongue. Thus, you merely adjust your limbs, coiling your arms around to his back and pulling his form closer.
It’s crowded on the couch, it’ll be troublesome if Alhaitham were to slip off the edge if his back were to stray any further. 
At this distance, entangled so closely together, the soft beats of his heart in time with yours like a rhythmic lullaby beckons the heavy to return to your eyelids.
The gentle drumming of his heartbeat coaxes out a final sigh from you, lashes descending down as your vision dims back into the realm of slumber. 
Slow breaths and heartbeats homogenize into a tender duet, tranquil enough to distract from the sporadic pattering against the glass and gradually increase in consistency. 
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A less than 30% chance of rain doesn’t mean that there’s a greater than 70% chance of no rain. It’s merely a statistical probability of 0.01 units of more precipitation at a given area in the given forecast area in the time period specified. 
Known as the precipitation probability, calculated based on two factors: 
The forecaster's certainty that precipitation will form or move into the area X The areal coverage of precipitation that is expected, then multiplied by 100. 
Thus, if the forecaster were 90% certain that 30% of the forecast area would receive rain, then the forecast displayed on screens would read as a 27% chance of rain.
A crucial bit of information that seemed to have slipped his mind midst a quiet afternoon. 
A troublesome miscalculation Alhaitham tsks at internally as he wrings out the pillowcase into a sink before tossing it back into the washing machine. Button-down shirts and blouses, wrinkled from the process of twisting out as much rainwater as possible, sat in damp piles awaiting their turn to be rewashed. 
As he measures out the detergent he can hear the rattles and clanks of the pot and pans from the kitchen. A late dinner in preparation, a task which was supposed to be his this week.
When he woke up to the pattering of rain drumming against the window panes, the afternoon long gone, it stirred an ever-so-sinking pit of dread. Second only to the unamused stare of his wife as she replicated an overconfident statement:
“Less than a 30% chance, Alhaitham?”
How unfortunate it all was, that the area where this quaint house resides was part of that 30% of the forecasted area.
Teal eyes watch the bedsheets whirl and fumble as they spin in the wash, contemplating the circumstance and further action. 
There is only one spare bedding set in the closet, so it’d be wise to allow you to have it for tonight as all the sheets and covers get rewashed and dried.
Your bed is about the same size as his, so two bodies wouldn’t have an issue fitting. At this rate, the two of you just slept in whichever bed was the most convenient. 
However, given the current state of things, Alhaitham wonders if he should prepare himself to brave tonight on his bare mattress with a flimsy spare blanket and pillow.
He might as well return to the couch for tonight if that was the case. 
The accumulation of all the years of science, mathematics, and research, Alhaitham wonders if there was ever a bright mind who came up with a formula to calculate how displeased one’s wife is.
What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it be? 
More specifics needed to be gathered, something the man couldn’t do in the refugee of the laundry room. Thus, Alhaitham must brave a journey into the kitchen. His slipper-clad footsteps are slow and methodical as the kitchen appears from around the corner of the hallway.
Sights honed in on your back as you stood by the stove, a rich aroma wafting through the air. 
Sleep still dusted your hair, evident in the few unruly strands sticking up erratically on your head, you made no attempt at fixing it. One hand is too occupied with stirring the pot on the stove, and the other set upon your hip.
Your stance wasn’t exactly tipping the scales in his favor. 
Cautiously, Alhaitham made his way to you. Stopping just a few paces as your eyes peer over your shoulder, stoic gaze halting him in place just a few paces away. The faded imprint of the crumpled blankets and couch cushions on your cheek.
His hand twitches with the urge to run his thumb along the impressions, but rationally warns him of the consequences. 
“The laundry?” No discernable tone in your voice. 
“Everything has been collected and wrung out, I’ll rewash everything tomorrow.” It’s best to answer your questions this time. 
“Hmm, they were out in the rain for quite a while now. They were dripping out onto the floor when you brought them in.” 
“I’ve mopped away any rain and mud tracked between the back door and laundry room.” Teal eyes quickly checked the aforementioned area to ensure they were pristine before returning to you. 
“Hmm.” You turn back towards the stove. 
The soft ticks of the clock accompany the waning drums of raindrops against the glass, the kitchen hood whirring as a ladle continues to stir in a pot. A quiet lull engulfed the home. Treading on the side of caution, Alhaitham inhales deeply. 
Without opening the box, one will never be able to confirm to fate of Schrödinger's cat. 
“What’s for dinner?” 
“Hmm? Well, it’s raining tonight, what better to eat on a rainy night than some Sabz Meat Stew, no?” 
He’s careful to not sigh too audibly, lest he goes to bed with a stomach half-full of instant noodles and that miffed stare of yours.
Alhaitham decides to hold his tongue as teal eyes continue to watch you add more spices to the pot. Studying how nicely the apron is tied around your waist. 
But it wouldn’t be wise of him to stand so close when the fabric of his shirt was still damp with rainwater transferred to him by the soaked laundry and sky. 
His chain of thought was interrupted by the chimes of your phone on the countertop, catching your eyes as well as his to peek at the over. A certain name is displayed across the screen. It’s as if the hands of fate wanted to throw more salt into his face. 
Bahram (Manager)
It’s a Saturday night, for what reason would an employer need to contact an employee so late?
Alhaitham’s focus shifts to your gaze which is still honed in on the screen. A bitter tinge crawls up the tip of his tongue, threatening to spoil his appetite. Perhaps, he wouldn’t mind settling down in his bare bed with just a spare comforter without dinner tonight.
“Can you reject the call for me? He can wait until Monday to get me to resolve whatever he messed up,” you scoff before rolling your eyes back to the stove. 
Swiftly he swipes to decline the call, let your voicemail remind Bahram of the concept of ‘off time’. The phone whirs again right after the first rejection, but he simply swipes decline again.
Pushing the device away with a bit too much satisfaction in his veins. 
Glancing back at your frame, he lets out a sigh as he relents. Resting his head into the crook of your neck, careful to leave a bit of distance between your bodies and to not hamper your shoulder’s movement. 
“Hm?” You hum expectantly. 
“It was my oversight tonight.” A string of words a bit unfamiliar on his tongue, but stubbornness hasn’t been in his favor tonight. 
“And?”
“I’ll be more cautious regarding naps.” 
“Hmph.” 
The lull returns, him resting his head on your shoulder and you continuing to watch over the stew. Teal eyes on you and your eyes on the stove. Until your shoulders raise with a deep inhale. 
“Go get changed out of that wet shirt then set the table, this bastardized version of ‘soup’ will be ready in 20 minutes.” You reach for a skillet just off to the side. 
He hums this time, the liberation from treading in suffocating lull tugs at the end of his lips. He surmises that laying his head against you for a few moments more won’t be so consequential. 
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The patter of raindrops still splattered against the glass panes of the window, drops which warped and blurred the scenery beyond the glass. Not that there’s any scenery to look at, not with the dreary clouds crowding the sky. 
A heavy sigh huffs through your nose, curling onto your side as you adjust your pillow. 
A filling dinner, a warm shower, and soft comforters. Factors that should contribute to a restful night’s sleep, or at the very least make your eyelids weary with the weight of lethargy.
Yes, perhaps those components should’ve granted you entry into the reprieve of a dream. 
If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve intruded into the domain of slumber twice already today. 
And the tempter who lured you to do so currently has his arm wrapped around your waist. 
Alhaitham’s chest rises and falls against your back, soundly asleep without an ounce of guilt over the predicament he’s partly responsible for. 
Lifting your head off the flattened pillow, your body twists around to fluff the stale stuffing back up before settling back to your position.
His body rested against yours just as it would any other night. But there’s a weight at the corners of your lips, one only grew heavier as your ears witnessed each content exhale resounding from the man who seemingly stole your sleep. 
If you were crueler, you would’ve exiled Alhaitham to the couch or his barren mattress. 
However, he’d probably sleep just fine regardless. 
Canting your head up, you flip your pillow to the other side once more. 
Your rolls and rhythm were abruptly interrupted by the clasp of two harsh hands pulling your hips into his, the contours of his rigor now digging into the plush of your ass. Forcing a stunned gasp up your throat.
“It seems like my wife has quite a bit of energy.” His timbre deeper from grogginess. 
Ah, all the twisting and turning you did just to adjust the troublesome pillow must've disturbed him. 
The softness of your ass cradled against his pelvis through the thin material of a button-down, an item borrowed from his closet that you’ve designated as sleepwear, and his sweatpants. 
‘Serves him right.’ 
Your attempts to twist out from his iron-clad hold only ground your ass more against the stiffness, earning a grumble from his lips. 
“Oh? And who’s fault is it?” You retort, still protesting in his hold. 
Snaking one hand downwards Alhaitham presses against your lower stomach to arch your ass further into him. Leaning his face closer to yours. 
“Do you want me to take responsibility?” His whisper ghosts over the shell of your ear.
You could feel the pads of his fingertips tracing under the loose button-down.
“Shouldn’t you resolve the issues you’ve caused?” A huff leaves you.
The outline of his shape pressed along your skin, the plushness of your bottom contrasting against the rigidity. 
“I can say the same to you.” 
The pads of his fingers trail up your heated skin, crawling along your torso, feathering touches alighting your senses like sparks. Massaging the tired yet restless muscles. You sigh in contentment.
The billowing button-down dragged up by his vascular hand, unveiling your skin to the cool sheets. Wandering touches slow as they rest in the valley of your breasts. His fingers enclose around one mount, gently twisting the defenseless nipple.
“H-hey! Hmph-“ Barely catching a moan before it fled past sealed lips. 
“Hm?” His lips are now right next to your ears. “Surely you foresaw this, I’m just helping my wife with all her excess energy.”
His forgotten hand made its presence known as it kneaded your hips, cunning touches breaching under the feeble defenses of your panties. Effortlessly brushing them to the side, long fingers encroaching closer to their destination. 
Your thighs react, squeezing together to prevent him from venturing further. Unfortunately, it was all in vain, for his fingertips already dipped into an all too familiar sap.
“See, you seem quite eager,” he taunts.
Stubbornly, your body attempts to buckle away from his influence. Face firmly pointed away from his lest he peeks at your heated cheeks. 
Alhaitham abandons the perch on your breast, two large hands attempting to tame the bucks and rolls of your hips. He releases a slow sigh into the crook of your neck. 
“Are you not feeling it tonight?” His hands remain where they were, but the strength missing.
At the lack of resistance, your hips seem to have lost interest in their writhing, staying within his yielding hold. Internally, you chiding your body for being so straightforward. The only thing blocking an answer from exiting your throat was that fickle ego of yours. 
“Won’t you allow me to make up for my blunders today, wife?” He soothes his hand along your leg.
With that stubborn ego of yours still biting down on your tongue, you simply nod your head. Feeling the heat of your cheeks reflected to you by the pillow. 
Permitting your thighs to give into the tow of his grasp. Allowing the grip of one large hand to pull your bent leg open, exposing your vulnerable cunt. Shielded from the view of the raindrops by a mere blanket. 
The hand snaked under your waist took swift advantage of the oppurtunity. Sliding one firm finger down to part the fold of your slit as his warm hand cups your greed. 
Alhaitham continued with the caresses of his fingers. Your lashes and lips pressed tightly shut, your leg still held in his tender hold. His slow breaths brush ghosting your skin. 
He spreads the slick along your slit, the tips of his fingers ever so often knocking against the bud at the very top. Teal eyes catch the sudden jolts of your body every time it happens. 
He moves his fingers downwards, slowly parting the now soft folds of your core. Feeling the subtle puckers of your entrance as his touch traced closer, more wetness dribbling out from the honeypot. 
The tip of his finger now encircles the fluttering hole. Your hip subtly bucked into his hand, as if to lure him in a soundless plea. 
Breaths getting deeper as your eyes follow his touch, the warm pad of his index finger twirling against your clit. Stoking a burgeoning fire with each slow circle. Your placid sighs fill the lull. 
His middle finger ventures past the entrance of your satin walls welcomed with a lewd squelch. Curling his finger against slick walls to test the give, he wonders if this hidden oasis is etched into his shape yet.
Diligently, his digit continues to sink in and out of your weeping hole, making your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip. The squelches increased in volume as trickles of nectar began pooling on the sheets. Walls clamping around a lonely finger, it wasn’t enough to quell that mounting heat within. 
A second deft finger joined in, sliding past a hungry entrance. A tangled dance amongst gummy walls as they curled and stretched the space. The lewd squelches resounding in your ear, a whimper trapped in your throat. The heel of his warm palm now pressed flat against the soft mound of your cunt, every movement of his hand resulting in a grind against your clit. 
Each grind causes a hot flash to shock throughout your body, starting from your curled toes to the very top of your head. The jostling of your hips and legs gradually expels the blanket off the bed. 
“Mmph!” A whine from a sudden surge of bliss when his thick fingers curled against a spongy patch deep within. 
“T-there! More there!”
Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being. 
He gladly obliges. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls. Ensuring to grind against that spongey patch.
 Your body twitches and flails in reaction. Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations. 
Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.
Piqued by the sweet tune, Alhaitham watches the scrunch in your trembling brows. He repeats his actions, another mewl leaves your lips as your head leans further into his shoulder.
The mellow pace of his fingers suddenly amps up, retreating out only to clap back in as his palm presses into the twitching bud. 
“Ah! Haitham.”
A pressure mounting up, a sirens call beckoning you closer and closer to a hazardous cliff’s edge. The only foundation for your sanity is thousand-count fabric, thus you twist the silk fibers as tremors overtake your body.
Walls clamping down to trap his thick digits inside as it spasms. Muscles tensing and quivering as your back arches away from his chest, parted lips with nothing choking past them. 
Three thick fingers sink deeper into your pussy without a hint of resistance, as a reward he makes sure to roll your overstimulated clit in firm circles with his palms. Judging from the violent tremors in your legs, it seemed you were almost there. 
Just at the cusp of rapture when your hand tangles into his ashen-locks, canting your head back so that your panting lips could capture his. Alhaitham returns to gesture with just as much fervor in his kiss, swallowing down your sweet mewls for himself. 
With a singular gasp, the siren’s call had beckoned your sanity to drown in the murky depths. It’s as if you lost control of your body to the possession of pleasure.
Eyes rolled back and lips broke away as breathy moans escaped the prison of your throat, a haze heavy over your thoughts, pride long lost amongst the gale of an orgasm. 
The beckoning depths of euphoria welcome your descent. 
Your limp frame rests against him. A light layer of sweat coating your panting chest, blurred vision merging and blending the details of the ceiling above the bed.
Alhaitham coaxes the contractions of your core, riding out the waves of their squeezes and sucks against his fingers. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Entranced by the glimmering string of nectar stretching between his fingers and your oasis. 
Trailing back up to your face, he notes the return of your hazy irises from their ogle of the bedroom ceiling. 
“Better?” Teal gaze watching the pants of your chest as they steady. 
‘No, not at all’, a statement just at the tip of your tongue, but your lips were busy attempting to grasp deep breaths. The surplus of vigor festering into unquenchable desire. To be closer, deeper, more. You needed more. 
Where words fail, action must take its place. Even before your mind finishes up the scheme brewing within, your lips catch him off guard, plush lips embracing his in a tender waltz.
Your body rolls back so that your breast can press against his chest through the thin fabric of his stolen shirt.
At the tender caress of your kiss, teal eyes disappear behind ashen lashes, the clasp of his grip loosening. Allowing you the mobility to finally pull your body on top of his, lips never once parting until you were finally settled atop his broad body.
A certain stiffness makes its reintroduction against your roused clit.
Breaking the seal of the kiss as a line of salvia stretches between your tongues, arms pushing against his firm chest to prop your body up as you gaze down at him.
“Still have too much energy?” Haughty eyes peer into yours, yet you can see the ardor oh so thinly concealed behind the brilliant teal. 
“What do you mean? Aren’t you the eager one?” You hum, rolling your hips against the rigidness trapped behind the prison of sweatpants.
“Hmm.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth. 
Large hands feel down along the plumpness of your ass as they drag a flimsy bit of fabric down your thighs. Daintier hands pull down the hem of sweatpants and briefs. 
A fair exchange. Him helping you out of those ruined panties, and you freeing him from a compressed prison of cloth. Discarded and forgotten along the floorboards as the fog of passion obscured them from further consideration.
His vascular hands slide down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs plant themselves on either side of his body. Alhaitham coaxes the hem of his stolen button-down just above your midriff. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your clit, glistening with temptation. 
Lowering your hips a breathy sigh leaves his lips and yours as the ridges of his cock drag against your slick folds. A few slow rolls starting from his leaking tip sliding down, thick veins skimming against your swollen clit. Precum mixing with arousal in a sinful concoction along his length. 
Perhaps he should convince you to participate in more naps if he knew it’d make you this excitable. 
“Oh,” you hum aloud, pausing your hips as you reach over to the bedside table.
Pulling open the drawer and rustling about a box followed by the crinkling of foil. Holding up the corner of the packet to your lip, tearing the foil while your gaze held his. Taking your time in dragging the condom out from its package. Easing it down his length while your fingers traced along, feeling each twitch and shudder. 
“You sure do know how to test my patience.” 
“Hmm?” You feign innocence. 
A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Alhaitham helps position his engorged tip at your dripping entrance. Your hand guides him while raising your hips.
Other hand pressing his chest down for support as your thighs sink back down, a shameful squelch accompanying heavy breaths as your walls welcome his cock’s fat head.
Weeping pussy engulfing his girth in bit by bit until you clit kisses his pelvis. Sending jolts of searing pleasure that caused your satin walls to twitch and tighten. 
Releasing a breathy sigh as you gather your senses.
Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge before dropping back down. Earning low grunts and sighs each time your satin walls swallowed his girth. The rhythm of your hips is paced and controlled despite how Alhaitham’s fingers dug into your skin. 
A whine living your drooling lips with each slap of his skin against your clit. Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. The bedframe creaks with each calculated movement, back and forth, back and forth the wood sings along. 
Your head was light, intoxicated by a feverish potion of lust and desire. Feeling him reach the deepest depths, fat tip grinding against those spots which made your legs falter momentarily each time.
Utilizing the strength of both your arms now to support yourself. However, the jolts of pleasure that shot up your spine with each roll of your hips were too maddening to stop. 
His calloused fingers massage circles into your hips. Squeezing the plush flesh to ground his sanity, watching your lewd face as you shamelessly bounced on him for your pleasure. Observing the subtle ripples with each slap of your hips and the jumps of your perky breast. 
The ghostly touches of your fingers skim across his lips, prompting his eyes to connect with yours. Lush and glossy lips parted with your deep pants as your lust-hazed eyes peer down at him, unspoken plea inscribed within them. Who is he to not fulfill your desires?
Lurching his upper body up, he answers your plea, capturing your lips with his. Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. A messy and feverish tangle as if to replace the air in your lungs with his. 
Mewls and whimpers muffled by his skin, your hands moving to perch themselves on his broad shoulders. Your quivering legs grew limp as the strength of his hands took over. Barely processing the sweet nothings whispered as your core relishes in the fullness. Like an ache that’s been finally satisfied. 
He wondered if tonight’s excessive vigor was fraying his control, or if your body was just this addictive. 
By now any notion of decency and integrity has long left you, your hand clawing into his shoulders, marking him with the scars of rapture. A harsh thrust of his hips recoils through you, a wanton moan reverbing off the walls as it forces your tangled lips to part. 
Tongue unable to produce anything other than strained moans, your head nods into his broad shoulder as your hips ground against his. The wet squelch announces the reciprocation of your walls. 
The intervals of those unrelenting rams increasing between the tender thrusts, half-lidded eyes trained on the shivers of your body. Cock sliding against satin ridges of your wall. Grunts and pants reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open. 
“Is this not enough?” You could feel the mirth in his whisper. 
Closer, deeper, more. You want more. Walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming heat within you. Hips floundering in harmony with breathy mewls. 
Pressing libidinous kisses along his throat feeling the vibrations of his grunts and pants, a deep chuckle was soon felt against your lips.
“Good grief you are a greedy little thing aren’t you.” 
A deafening slam of skin resounds through the heavy air, swiftly followed by another and another. A new tempo in this waltz of passion takes over like a wave sweeping both of you out to a sea of indulgence.
Possessed by the desperation of chasing a white light, your hand rakes deeper into his toned arms. Seizing anything to prevent your mind from abandoning your sinful body as his girth twitches within your velvety folds. 
Sanity like a foolish sailor who’s beckoned by the lure of a siren’s voice, uncaring of the rocks which will sink them to the very bottom of the bemused tides. Keening against your husband shamelessly, a shameless wife on the cusp of her second fall into ecstasy. 
The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into the spark that lit your nerves alight. Toes arched into the air and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent babbles resounding through the room. 
Your devious walls clamped around his dick with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling against his girth eager to quell your aching greed. It was too much. 
His fingers claw into your soft hips, pressing your cunt flush against his hips with a sloppy slap of skin. The bulbous tip prodding against that weakness deep within you. Bruising grip holding your body in place as his lips crash back into yours.
Swallowing down his breathless groans with your sweet mewls and praddles.
A heat is spilled into the rubber, making your greedy walls quiver amidst the aftershocks of ecstasy. Alhaitham’s hips twitch with each subsequent rip of his orgasm, thrusting his length further into your crowded cavity with each one. The filthiness of it all prolongs your sinful depravity. 
Chest expanding with pants, your lopsided shirt falling further down your shoulder. Your eyes return from seeing blinding white, exhaustion drenching each fiber of your body.
Limp figure crumbling against your husband as his back lays back on the creaking headboard. Even before your worn mind could conjure a coherent thought, your hands caress his starlight tresses. 
As his own breath evades him Alhaitham releases one hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your smoldering skin, guiding your lips back to his. 
Basking in the warmth forged between your bodies, between drumming heartbeats and breathless lungs. 
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Two bodies lay under silken sheets, skin freshly wiped clean of sweat as the crisp breeze brushed against the curtains gradually erasing the sinful haze. The cool air aids your rising and falling chest to pace itself. 
Muscles and bones heavy with fatigue, yet your eyes couldn’t bring themselves to retire behind shut lids. Not when those dreary clouds have finally retreated. 
The moon hangs high in the sky, finally free from the shroud of rain clouds, she sits among the twinkling dots. Twinkling dots were in actuality brilliant stars, some even larger and brighter than the beloved sun. 
Glimmering lustrously as they traverse through the contentious vacuum of space and past other nameless stars. A scene from a late-morning market trip wanders its way back from the depths of your memory, bringing its musings with it.
“Something on your mind?” A timbre voice beckons your conscious mind back from its trek.
Teal eyes set upon yours as your heads rest on plush pillows, just a breath away from one another.
“Hm, just senseless musings.” Your gaze shifts away from the window. 
In a changed world with millions of hands will your hands and his find each other to make two pairs of hands?
In a different time with a million pairs of legs, will your steps and his steps still coincide in time with each other 
In a new life with a sea of new faces, will a stoic face and another stoic face spot each other in the crowd? 
What is the likelihood of those odds? 
“If you keep letting your thoughts fester, it’ll only bring trouble upon yourself in the morning from sleep deprivation.” He shifts his position, supporting his cheek on his fist as he stares down at your face. 
You sigh because he spoke exactly what those whispers of rationale were urging you, but the scoffs of pride had deemed these rampant inquiries ‘childish’. However, it’s a bit hard to avoid his eyes now. 
“I was just musing about the soulmates concept again,” you confess. 
Alhaitham hums in curiosity. 
“Do you…” You take a deep breath, forcing the hard-to-vocalize question from your tongue. “Do you think we’ll only be together in this life?” 
He’s silent. Just the muted chorus of Summer crickets rejoicing over the conclusion of a rainstorm resounding through the space.
“In a different time, a different universe, or the next life, do you think we’ll be soulmates again?” You muster together the courage to peer up at his face. 
“I don’t recall ever reading an article or paper related to this topic, so it’ll be convoluted to get an answer.” He brings his other hand to his face, signifying his musings. 
Right, there isn’t even a definitive answer for what happens after life passes, an afterlife, a cycle, or nothing, no one knows. Was this the only universe where life exists or are there infinitely many far out there in the stars? Does anyone know?
Your hand pulls your blanket up to your face, partially to cover the growing shame creeping up your face. That haughty voice within was right, these baseless questions are silly and childish. Perhaps even too morbid to bring up so unprompted on this weekend night. 
What were you expecting Alhaitham to even do? Did you want him to give you an answer? What can he even do? A question you can’t even begin to understand, why would you even expect him to have some solution prepared? 
What to do now? Can you just take back your previous words from his memory, so he’ll just forget what you said? Maybe just ask him to quell any more mindless musings from plaguing you tonight by placing his lips on your forehead? So that you could finally drift into the realm of slumber. 
However, is that temporary solution enough? Enough to stifle the contentions and riddles clattering together into a clamorous ruckus in your head? Could sleep even spare you from their tumult? 
“The Membrane Multiverse Theory or reincarnation, hm, do you have any personal theories you’d like to share?” The sensation of his fingers grasping yours brings you back to reality. 
Glancing at him with a quirk in your brow, you wait for him to continue. 
“Who knows, maybe we’ll be the first to publish something for this topic.” His thumb runs along your knuckles. 
“So, is there a speculation or possible rationale you feel particular to?” Teal eyes reconnect with yours. 
“Well…” You sigh, relishing in the warmth of his hand as you concoct a half-baked theory. 
“There’s stardust from stars that had burst billions of years ago, that have somehow ended up on this planet. Subsequently, every being on earth has the atoms of stars in them. So, naturally by the law of conservation, the earth is where the atoms of the human body will return.”
“Based on the law that atoms cannot be created or destroyed?” He drones. 
“Yes, they all had to come from something before them. The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood. The atoms that make up you and I might become part of something else, or even of different people too.” 
“Hm, that sounds probable.”
“But, then this brings up a whole new host of questions, such as, if the new people our atoms become a part of are even ‘us’? Will they ever meet? What if you become a tree and I a rock? What if the atoms of you end up on one side of Teyvat and I on the other end?”
You peer into his irises, but you were just searching for an answer that isn’t there. 
For his beryl irises were impassive. But it was the impassive foundation you needed to ground your rambling thoughts and nonsensical musings into the desolate truth of it all.
The warmth of his hand slips away.
“Never mind, I suppose it’s the most logical to conclude that we’re just soulmates in this instance of time, in this universe, and only here.” Your hand closes over the empty space he left. 
Maybe it’s wise to dismiss it as silly rambling and then withdraw from his indecipherable eyes. Is it too late to put this plan into motion now?
The weight of a muscular arm is draped over your waist, hand pulling you closer unlike your ploy to escape. 
“But I have a few theories I haven’t shared yet.” He glances out toward the bedroom window. 
“While the theory of reincarnation currently doesn’t have any solid scientific backing, in some way, the law of conservation of mass does give a bit of merit to that notion.” Alhaitham draws circles into the small of your back. 
You hum in response. 
“The atoms that created us will return to the earth after us and become a part of something or someone else’s molecular structure. A tree or a rock, a human or a beast, it’s all probable. However…” Beryl eyes return to meet yours. 
“What’s stopping them from repeating the same molecular structures as right now?” He asks. 
Maybe it was his turn to peer into your eyes to search for an answer, an answer currently brewing and forging between your united gazes. 
“What’s stopping these atoms from returning to these exact molecular structures in the future? In a different time, the atoms of us now could one day in the far future come together again and make ‘us’ once more. Maybe just you, maybe just me, or maybe both at the same time.” 
He frees his other hand from the duty of supporting his head, broad body settling down into the bed and blankets, allowing his face to move closer to your level upon his pillow. 
“What’s the likelihood of those odds? Me and you again?” You ask. 
Alhaitham pauses. All the bright minds of science, mathematics, and physics, have yet to come up with a formula to calculate such a thing.
What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it even be?
The ashen-haired man wasn’t sure, but there was at least a statistical observation that would provide some basis. 
“A true 0% chance is an absolute impossibility, just as nothing can be proven absolutely 100%. Since we don't know the absolutes of time, existence, or physics. So, there’ll always be a non-zero chance.” Feeling the drums of your heartbeat against his chest. 
“Then, when they do, I think I’ll spend my life pondering what could fit into the spaces between my fingers like this.” He slips his hand into the gaps of yours, intertwining them. 
Then finally, he saw the smile he’d been yearning for rising on your lush lips. The ends of your eyes crinkle as it make its way to your irises as well. Your grip mirrors his as you nestle your face closer to his. 
“You won’t get tired of this stoic face?” You taunt.
“Will you get tired of mine?” He counters. 
Your shoulders quiver with stifled giggles. 
“No, no I won’t,” you promise him. 
“Then I won’t,” he promises back. 
His larger hand brings yours closer to himself, all the while your attentive eyes watch failing to keep the curl of your lips under control. 
“Any thoughts on the Membrane Multiverse Theory? How will your astute mind surmise the possibility of us laying like this somewhere else in the stars?” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe as your face inches closer.
“I believe I’ve shared enough, I’d much rather hear what your brilliant postulate is.” His tone casted with mirth, but the bite missing from teal eyes. 
Letting a soft hum, your mind rifling through all the paragraphs and journals your hands had ever thumbed through.
The soft rhythm of his breaths kept time. Stringing the words together on your tongue, you hope this monologue of yours will provide some amusement for him. 
“If universes are randomly put into 2 boxes of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, then on average the number of universes in each box would be the same. For every universe I’m not with you, there’ll be equally as many where I am with you.” 
A coin toss, perhaps it was all just a coin toss after all. Whether or not the Akasha paired a stoic face with another stoic face, for the gaps of your fingers to fit his so perfectly.
It could have all been a coin toss, for one half to stumble upon the other half cruelly parted from them by the hands of unseen gods. 
“Something akin to a bijection existing between both sets of universes?” He cross-examines. 
“Maybe… If we were to assign one type ‘yes’ to a positive integer, and the other type ‘no’ to a negative integer, then perhaps we can construct a bijection from the positive and negative integers.” Your brow furrows in contemplation. 
“If we submit this theory do you think the Akademiya would publish it?” 
“Not likely, bijections are usually made between sets of elements like numbers, not sure if bijections can be applied to something like whole universes. I’m just hypothesising nonsense,” you sigh.
“But they did publish the nonsense known as The Lifespan of Love,” he interjects. 
“Hm, then maybe there’s a non-zero chance they’ll publish our nonsense too.” You stifle a scoff. 
“Hm,” Alhaitham hums in amused agreement. 
His free hand pulls the covers further up over your frame then smoothing out the wrinkles. Observing the growing delays between your slowing blinks.
“Only you and I would turn pillow talk into an academic deliberation.” You couldn’t hold back the giggle any longer. 
He sighs in agreement, nestling his head closer to yours on the plush pillows, teal gaze never once leaving yours. 
“It’ll make any romantic keel over and die from how dry it is, wouldn’t it, Haitham?”
“I say let them.” 
Scoffing and shaking your head at his crude declaration as a yawn slips past your lips, a conclusion to this nonsensical academic deliberation.
With one hand still intertwined in the tender grasp of another you pull Alhaitham closer. So that the spaces of your body could lay against the spaces of his. 
The warmth of his skin mingling with the warmth of yours, pressed against one another. You drawing mindless shapes into his back, his hand tracing senseless ruins into yours.
Perhaps, an illogical attempt to echt memories into the stardust in your bodies. 
So he and you could imprint the memory of each other into the very fibers of your beings. Then maybe someday when these atoms return to these exact molecular structures, they’ll remember this too. 
The law of conservation of mass, the probabilities upon probabilities, and bijections used in an inconsequential pseudo-academic ramblings to no one but an audience of silent stars.
Alhaitham’s certain no academic publisher would spare a glance at them. 
But this nonsensical instance in the continuum of time, feeling the rhythm of your heart on the other side of his chest next to his own, is his most precious epiphany. 
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 
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smileysuh · 5 months
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night terror
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🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. As much as you love being a mother, you think some of your favorite moments might just happen when the kids are asleep. Seeing Seungcheol with Hana and Daehyun is one of the great joys of your life, but you have needs too, and after a long day, you really need something to help you relax.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex, dirty talk, praise, fingering, blow job, deep throating, mentions of masochism, loud sex, your kid hearing you scream during sex and then your husband lies to her and says it's night terrors when really it's him - he's the night terror, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.2k
🍭 aus. rich businessman cheol, husband cheol, established relationship, father cheol, stay at home mom reader, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. i need a rich husband sugar daddy and i need him now
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There had been a time in his life when Seungcheol had thought he might never settle down. As a busy businessman, he’d never been able to comprehend how it would be possible to factor a wife - let alone children - into his schedule. But then, one summer afternoon, he’d met you, and all his fears had vanished.
His previous relationships had been marred with accusations about his lack of making time, and he’d been ready to repeat the same issues with you. However, the conflicts never came. You were a strong, capable, young woman, and as the first months of you flew by blissfully, Seungcheol had realized you accepted him for him, work and all. If anything, distance made the heart grow fonder, and when you were together, you both gave each other your complete attention, nurturing the relationship in a way that he’d never had a relationship truly nurtured before. 
Six months in, he’d asked you to marry him, and it was the most confident he’d ever been with a decision in his entire life. When you’d gotten pregnant, only a short while after your honeymoon, the two of you had sat down to discuss what being parents would look like. You’d both been committed to giving your children the best lives possible going forward, and - knowing he’d be around less than a dad with a different, less demanding job - Seungcheol had asked if you’d be interested in the stay-at-home life.
It’s been five years since then, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where Seungcheol has questioned his decisions with you. He comes home at erratic times in the evening, but he always finds you excelling at motherhood. 
He truly doesn’t know how you do it and make it look easy. You have such a gentle way with not only the kids, but him as well, and he almost feels as if you were meant for this role. You’re a caregiver, through and through, and Seungcheol thinks he must be one of the luckiest men in the whole world to be able to fulfill the provider counterpart. 
It’s a Monday evening, and he’s managed to get off work early. When he arrives at your large family home, he follows the sound of giggles to the kitchen. This room has been the heart of your house ever since the kids were old enough to follow you around it like ducklings, watching you cook with eyes full of wonder - he thinks they must get that trait from him at least. 
He leans against the wall while he watches you, taking in the vision in front of him. It’s mac and cheese night, a long-held tradition in your household, wherein you help the kids make the base, and allow them to choose their favorite toppings to go in the ramekins before oven baking. 
The elder of your children, Daehyun, is more adventurous, and it looks like you’re helping him saute a pan of mushrooms on the gas stove top. Even while dealing with the hot element, and a little boy grabbing at your apron while teetering on his cooking step stool, you’re giving just as much attention to your youngest. 
Hana is the apple of Seungcheol’s eye, and - bless her heart - she’s a cheese fiend. There must be five different kinds of cheese on the counter, and you’re softly talking to her while she struggles to grate a small block of what looks to be gruyere. 
“You’re doing so well,” you tell your daughter. “Give mommy just a moment and she’ll help you grate the last of it. I don’t want you hurting your hands.”
“Okay, mama,” Hana nods, setting the cheese down before leaning over to watch you stir the pan. 
“Do you want to try a mushroom, sweetheart?” you ask, picking one out of the pan to taste for yourself. “They’re very good.”
Hana’s always been better at trying new things if you or Seungcheol go first, and the businessman finds himself smiling while he watches the soft moment.
“Okay,” Hana says, but she doesn’t sound too sure. 
“It’s a little hot, so I’m going to put it on the cutting board to cool before either of you taste it, okay?” You lift a few mushrooms from the sizzling pan, setting them down and gently blowing away the steam. “Let me know if these are good, Daehyun, or if you’d like me to cook them a little longer to make them more crispy.”
The three of you are so wrapped up in your own little world, and Seungcheol supposes the soft classical music in the background had drowned out the sound of his footfalls as he’d approached. He decides it’s a good time to make his presence known, so he moves into the room, coming to stand on the other side of the island countertop.
“Look at you three chefs,” he muses.
“Daddy!” His children scream, with Daehyun jumping from his stool to run around the table and hug Seungcheol around the waist. Hana, meanwhile, still needs help getting down from the steps, and Seungcheol watches you lift the small child to set her on the floor so she can join her brother on the other side of Seungcheol. 
“It smells good,” Seungcheol tells you, smiling at you as he rubs the backs of his children.
“We were just trying mushrooms!” Daehyun announces, releasing Seungcheol in favour of running to you to grab the food before dashing back to his dad, holding his hand out. 
Seungcheol accepts the mushroom, and he tries it, letting out an embellished groan. “These are great,” he says, which prompts both children to try them too.
“Perfect!” Daehyun agrees.
Seungcheol watches you turn off the heat under the pan, moving to finish grating the gruyere for Hana. “How was work, my love?” you ask.
“Fine,” he sighs, not wanting to think about his job in a moment like this. “I couldn’t miss mac and cheese night. How were things around here?”
“Hana, why don’t you tell daddy about preschool?” you suggest, moving a pan of preprepared pasta bake ramekins on a tray to the island counter. 
“We did art!” Hana says proudly. “Made something for you.”
“Really?” Seungcheol loves receiving drawings from his kids. “Want to go grab it for me?”
You’re two steps ahead of him, even while cooking, and you reach behind yourself to grab a piece of paper from the fridge. You hold it out to Seungcheol, and he takes it from you, smiling widely as he looks at the image.
“It’s our family,” Hana explains, although, with the dad character holding a briefcase and dressed in a suit, Seungcheol thinks it would be impossible for him to think it’s anything else.
“I love it, you’re going to be an artist one day,” he tells her, reaching down to pick her up, tucking her by his hip. “And how about you, Daehyun? How was soccer practice?”
“Mommy picked me up after school and she had veggie snacks which weren’t that good but I ate them anyways, and we did practice and I scored goals-” Seungcheol loves how his son rambles, and he listens patiently while Daehyun describes finding a coin on the field that he can add to his collection of treasures he’s picked up throughout his life.
By the time the story is finished, you’ve already put the mac and cheese in the oven, and you’re standing with your palms on the counter, watching Seungcheol interact with his children. There’s a gentle smile on your face, your eyes lit up with affection.
Seungcheol is drawn to you, and he walks around the island, Hana still tucked on his hip. “Hi,” he says softly, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “How was mommy’s day?”
“Good,” you respond. “Hana and I went to a greenery after preschool to get some new plants for the garden.”
“Oh yeah?” Seungcheol looks down at his daughter. “Did you two find anything nice?”
“Mommy got me a bouquet of tulips,” Hana confirms. 
“We also got a few more lavender bushes and some rosemary,” you add. “She played with bubbles while I planted them, and then we went to get Daehyun for soccer. A few of his friends came over with their moms after that to play in the pool, and then we started mac and cheese.”
“Sounds like a full day,” Seungcheol nods. He’s constantly in awe of how you juggle both kids, house maintenance, a social life, and cooking. 
“The kids are tuckered out,” you say, reaching out to brush some hair from Hana’s face. “They were thinking we could watch some Disney movies after dinner before bed.”
“Well we can’t say no to that, can we,” Seungcheol smiles. 
“No, we can’t,” you agree. “Daehyun, the mac and cheese is in the oven, should we start on a salad?”
“Do we have to?” he asks.
“Greens are an important part of a healthy diet,” you remind the little boy who’s always had problems with his veggies. “How about you help me choose what type of salad to make?”
“Can we have the one with lots of cheese?” Hana questions.
Seungcheol loves his little cheese fiend, he loves his family, and most of all, he loves that he gets to share it with you every day.
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After being filled up with hot mac and cheese, the kids had fallen asleep less than thirty minutes into their movie. Seungcheol had carried them to bed, double checking to make sure they were tucked in all right, and now, he heads into your shared room, closing the soundproof doors behind him.
“I’ve said it already, but I’ll say it again, dinner was great,” he tells you, as he heads to his closet to begin removing his button-up shirt. “Even the salad was good, I haven’t seen Daehyun eat that many greens in months.” 
“He’s warming up to them,” you smile, coming up behind your husband to give him a hug from behind, your cheek pressed to his back. “We were all happy you were there to eat with us. I know work has been busy, so I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.”
“And miss mac and cheese night?” Seungcheol scoffs. “Not even Jeon Wonwoo himself could keep me from that.”
You laugh at the mention of his business partner. “He can join next time, if he has the time. Hana misses Uncle Woo.”
“That's because he dotes on her.”
“As if you don’t.” 
“We all do, she’s a special kid, that one.”
“They both are,” you muse. “Daehyun downplayed it, but he was doing really well in practice. Coach says he has some real talent. Apparently he can’t shut up about the way that you take him to games twice a month in box seats. I think it’s making a huge difference.”
“That’s good to hear,” Seungcheol smiles. 
“Anyways, enough about our days,” you sigh. “Do you need a shower?”
“Why? Do I smell?” Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle.
“No, I was just thinking I might have one, and maybe you’d like to join me.”
Seungcheol groans. “Well, now I definitely need a shower.”
“Perfect.” You pull away from his back, reaching down to take off your shirt as you head to the bathroom. “I’ll see you in there, daddy.” 
As much as you love being a mother, you think some of your favorite moments might just happen when the kids are asleep. Seeing Seungcheol with Hana and Daehyun is one of the great joys of your life, but you have needs too, and after a long day, you really need something to help you relax. 
You turn the shower on, and as the spa-like bathroom fills with steam, you undo your pants. You’re slipping out of the fabric when Seungcheol joins you. His large form gently presses against your back, and his lips find your shoulder. His hands smooth down your arms softly, and he presses his crotch against your bum, showing you how turned on he is.
“You look so beautiful today,” he tells you.
“And you look as sexy as ever,” you respond, smiling while leaning back against his bare chest. 
“I do, do I?” You feel him grin where he’s kissing your neck, and you rest the back of your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of him. “Guess this means we’re a match made in heaven.”
You love when he sweet-talks you like this, and when his hand slips down your abdomen to cup your pussy, you let out a groan of pleasure. “Should we go in the shower?”
“The shower can wait,” Seungcheol states, “and these panties have to come off.”
“You got it, daddy.” You hook your fingers in the waistband, pushing them down so his eager fingers can touch you directly. The contact has you shivering, and he begins to circle your clit. 
“How did I ever get so lucky with you?” he asks, teasing you while he grinds against your ass.
“I ask myself the same question every day,” you confess, whimpering when one of his large fingers slips into your core. 
“I think I’m the lucky one,” Seungcheol tells you, sucking on the sweet spot on your throat that always makes your entire body react. 
“Agree to disagree,” you whisper, consumed by the feeling of his fingers as he adds a second one, working you open. 
“It’s torture spending a whole day without being able to touch you,” your husband confesses, as he applies pressure to your clit with his palm.
You know exactly how he feels, and although you’re leaning into his touch, allowing him to be the one exploring your form, you know your patience will run dry soon. You need his cock, more than you’ve ever needed anything in your life.
It’s tantalizing, having his large bulge rubbing against your ass while he finger fucks you closer and closer to a release that’s always much too easy for him to earn. 
You turn your head to the side, reaching behind yourself to tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing his lips to your own. 
After all these years, Seungcheol knows your body inside and out. There are no words that need to be spoken as he gets you closer and closer to your high, only whimpered moans and groans of pleasure as you remain lip-locked.
Your first orgasm overtakes you, and you gasp into the kiss, wiggling your hips for more stimulation while he helps you through it. His free hand is on your waist, and he aids in your motions, which only adds to your pleasure.
“Cheol-” you whisper.
“I know, darling, I know,” he presses his forehead to yours, finishing you off before removing his hand from between your legs. He quickly sucks your juices off his digits before working on your bra, which falls off to join your clothes on the floor.
You turn in his embrace, palms flat to his chest so you can push him back until his bum hits the edge of the sink. “I wanna suck you off,” you tell him, feeling confident and as needy as ever.
“Fuck, I love it when you use that sweet, pretty mouth of yours to say the dirtiest things,” Seungcheol groans, large hands moving down to work on his belt while you sink to your knees on the tiled floor.
“You had a long day,” you tell him, knowing every day is long for the successful businessman, “I just want to make you feel good.”
“You always make me feel good,” he smiles, pushing his pants down so his cock can be released. 
Wasting no time, you wrap your hand around the base, taking one last look up at him to muse, “Well, I want to make you feel great,” before your mouth finds his large cock. 
The sounds he makes during sex have always been a huge turn-on for you, and the groans he lets out as you suckle on the head of his cock are like angels singing. You close your eyes, leaning into the act of pleasuring the man you love most in the world. 
His gentle hand finds your head, and he helps you blow him, taking more of him into your mouth while your hand pumps the base.
“You’re so good,” he whispers. “So fucking good for me.” 
You groan at the praise, and it makes his hips twitch, cock slipping into the back of your throat.
When you’d first been together, you hadn’t been used to the sensation, but after all this time together, you’ve become accustomed to it. In fact, you even kind of enjoy it when he throat-fuckes you, in some odd masochistic kind of way.
He’s slow with it, and you know he’s watching you carefully for any signs that he should let up on you. With you focused on your breathing and relaxing your throat, he never has to actually pull away. You listen to his sounds of pleasure grow, his grip tightening in your hair. 
“Fuck,” he groans, gently pulling you off his cock. “I need you.” 
He helps you to your feet and in one motion, he lifts you up and sets you on the sink, slotting between your legs. Your hands find his strong shoulders while he guides his cock to your pussy. His lip is caught between his teeth in concentration, and your heart swells with love for your husband.
The head of his cock slips into you and you both groan. 
“You’re wound up, darling,” he muses as he sinks a few more inches into you, test thrusting so your wet juices can cover his length and make it easier for you both. “Are you sure you don’t need some more of my fingers?”
“No,” you hold his strong shoulders tighter, “I just need you.”
“Yeah?” he leans in, pressing his lips to yours while his hands find your hips, one slipping to gently cup the small of your back. “Are you still my needy princess?”
It had been the first true pet name that stuck when you’d started dating, and even after all these years, it still makes a tingle run up your spine.
“Yes, Cheol, you feel so good-”
His thrusts have his cock sinking fully inside of you now, and you can’t help the way your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your body is alight with pleasure, and you truly can't help the sounds that are escaping past your lips.
You try your best to be quiet with Cheol most nights, but your kids are asleep. On top of that,  there’s a soundproof bedroom door, a bathroom door and a shower running to muffle your noises, so you figure now is as good a time as any to let loose a little.
“God, I love it when you get loud for me,” Seungcheol groans, leaning forward to pepper your throat in kisses while you lace your fingers through his soft hair. 
Each thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, and you can feel tension building in your abdomen, a sign of another orgasm on its way.
“You look so perfect like this,” your husband muses. Suddenly, he’s pulling away from you. “I want you to see.” 
You moan in annoyance as he pulls out of you, dragging you off the countertop so he can turn you around, facing the steamed mirror. You bend over the sink, letting out a whine when he slips inside of you again, leaning forward with his chest pressed to your back while he wipes a hand along the reflective surface. 
You can see yourself now, and you look completely fucked out. 
Cheol grins behind you, and you love how the reflection showcases how much larger than you he is. With your smaller form in front of him, his shoulders are visible on either side of your own, and his height makes your pussy clench around him.
“Told you it was sexy,” Seungcheol muses, leaning forward again to press his lips to your shoulder. “I want you to watch as I make you cum.”
You’re not entirely sure you’ll be able to keep your eyes open, but you nod all the same, eager to please him as he begins to fuck you again. Each thrust has your hips pressing to the marble sink top, and it hurts a little, but the pain is pleasure.
You groan, panting as you watch Seungcheol fuck you from behind through the mirror.
He truly is a vision. each slap of his hips against your ass has your breasts bouncing too-
Steam is quickly covering the mirror again, and you reach out a shaky hand to wipe it away, intent on doing your best to follow through with his command.
“Cheol,” you whimper, his thrusts getting faster, harder- 
“That’s it,” he groans. “Let me hear you.” 
Your sounds are getting louder and louder as the tension in your stomach builds- and when Seungcheol licks two fingers, slipping his hand down your front to play with your clit, the noises of pleasure become uncontrollable. 
“Gonna cum for me, princess?” he asks, breath hot against your throat.
Everything feels so intense, the steam in the room adding to your heightened senses, and you nod quickly. You can’t find it in yourself to speak, you can only grab the sink as an anchor while your husband works you to the edge-
“I’m there too,” Seungcheol assures you. “Cum with me.” 
The sound that escapes you as your pussy clamps down on his cock is almost inhuman, and you struggle to keep your eyes open, gazing at your own fucked out expression through the mirror while Seungcheol rides out your highs.
His head is thrown back, throat all gorgeous and on display- 
You love him a stupid amount, and it only makes your core throb harder around his cock while he fills you up with his cum. 
It doesn’t help that his fingers are still on your clit, and you twitch from oversensitivity, letting out another loud cry. Seungcheol’s eyes open, as if he hadn’t even realized what he was still doing, too lost in the feeling of your throbbing cunt- he’s quick to pull his hand away, resting it on your hip as his thrusts begin to slow.
“Fuck,” he groans, “that was good.” 
His lips find your shoulder, and you both do your best to slow your heavy breathing. 
“Now I really need that shower,” you joke, earning a chuckle from the man still inside of you.
“Let's do it,” he says, giving you one last kiss before he pulls out of you.
He grabs your hand, helping you to the shower-
“Shit, did you hear that?” His head turns towards the closed door.
“I didn’t hear anything,” you tell him.
“No, listen, there it is again-” Seungcheol lets go of your hand, and he quickly grabs his robe, wrapping it around his naked body. He opens the bathroom door. “Shit, we woke up one of the kids. I’ll be right back.”
He exits the bathroom, shutting you inside behind him as he tightens his robe, rushing to the large soundproof bedroom doors. When he opens them, he finds Hana standing there, her stuffed teddy in her arms.
“Is Mama okay?” she asks, looking up at him like she’s on the verge of tears.
“Yes, sweetheart,” Seungcheol is quick to sink to his knees, wrapping his daughter in a hug. “You know she gets night terrors sometimes. It was just a bad dream, but I got a shower started for her and she should be okay.”
“Are you sure?” Hana asks, wiping at her eyes.
Seungcheol releases her, taking a look at her face and helping her clear the tear tracks with his thumb. “Yes, love, mama is fine. Here, let me get you back to bed.”
He picks up his daughter, carrying her back to her room. She settles in alright, and with a quick kiss to her forehead and a goodnight, Seungcheol leaves her be. He’s in a rush to get back to you, and as he enters your room and ensuite bathroom, shrugging off his robe, he finds you in the shower.
“I swear that kid has super hearing,” he muses softly, joining you under the water spray and pulling your body tight to his own.
“Maybe our soundproof bedroom door isn’t as soundproof as we thought,” you suggest. “Did you tell her it was night terrors again?”
“That seems to be the company line, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle. He feels a little bad that the lie has gone on for two years already, but what else is he supposed to say to a kid who just heard her mother screaming?
“Hey, Night Terror,” you tug him closer, “you look lost in thought. What’s on your mind?”
Seungcheol sighs. “Just that maybe we need to invest in some good earplugs for the kids.”
You laugh, snuggling close to his chest while he wraps you in his arms. “Darling, I love the way you think.”
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! sometimes we all just need a short, sweet, established relationship sugar daddy/ A+ actual dad Cheol in our lives, you know?
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview.  “Fuck the house, I want you here. Now.” You don’t waste another second, grabbing his face and crashing your lips against his. His own hands find your hips, and within moments he’s pulling you onto his lap, growling into the kiss. It’s clear from the way that he’s touching you that he has no objections to fucking in the hot tub.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism, fucking in a hot tub, dry/wet humping, multiple reader orgasms, sensory stuff with the hot tub and heat, breast worship, fingering, cheol using her like a fleshlight, manhandling, some dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, finger sucking,. I petnames. (hers) princess.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 300
🌙 staring.Cheol x afab!Reader
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bonus
“Uncle Woo!” Hana lights up as one of her favorite people enters the house, and Wonwoo returns her smile, dropping onto one knee to embrace her.
“Hey, Hana,” he grins.
“They told us we were sleeping over with you but I almost didn’t believe it!” Hana raves.
“I got the guest room all set up for you two,” Wonwoo says, standing up while holding your daughter to his chest. His gaze shifts to Daehyun. “Uncle Mingyu and Uncle Vernon are going to pop by for a bit too, they’ve been missing watching soccer with you. I’ve got the game from earlier recorded, you could have some boys' time while I play princesses with Hana.”
God. You love Wonwoo. He’s the best uncle you could have asked for concerning your kids. It’s clear Seungcheol thinks the same, his grip tightening around you while his smile widens. You all watch Hana joyfully rant about playing princesses, and Daehyun is even smiling at the thought of spending time with his favorite uncles.
“Do you two have any special plans for tonight?” Wonwoo asks when there’s a lull in the conversation. 
It’s your anniversary tonight, and you definitely have special plans, but none you can discuss in front of the kids.
“Mostly just taking her out for dinner,” Seungcheol says, which is only half a lie as he turns to gaze at you with hearts in his eyes.
“Nothing too extreme,” you agree, patting his chest. 
Wonwoo gives you a look that tells you he sees through your bluff, but your kids are none the wiser, and - as it is with your ‘night terrors’ - at the end of the day, a few white lies to protect their innocence doesn’t hurt anybody.
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bizbat · 3 months
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When They're In Love HCS - Jason Todd
~ Fem terms used for reader
~ Partially based on these headcanons
🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️
🐼JJK Masterlist🐼
~ You can find part two here, and part three here.
~ You can find more of my works here
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Jason Todd seems like the type to fall hard and fast. He might not admit it for a while, but he's been developing feelings for you from at least the second or third time you met.
He's the type to call you "Wifey" or "The Missus" even when you aren't married and regardless of whether or not you to plan to.
He absolutely keeps a picture or two of you in his wallet, and no, he doesn't think it's cheesy in the slightest.
He's the type to lay on you. Your chest, your tummy, even your butt if you're laying on your stomach, your size and weight is irrelevant.
You'll be minding your own business, laying down and reading a book or playing on your phone, and he'll come out of nowhere and drop all 230+ lbs of muscle on your smaller body.
If you wheeze and try to crawl out from under him, try to push his giant hulking form off of you, he'll just wrap his arms around you and tell you he's tired, and just needs a few minutes of sleep.
Doesn't actually spend as much time reading as he would like to, but if you enjoy reading he'll always find time to do it with you.
If libraries had gold card memberships, he would be the one to have it. He'd rent any and as many books as you want.
Sometimes, he'll go out of his way to find books he thinks you'd like or that you can read together. Sometimes, he'll even give you old books from his personal library if he thinks you'll enjoy them as much as he did
I don't think he's be huge on giving gifts, I see him as more of a quality-time type (but i see almost all of the bats as quality-time types so take that with a grain of salt), but I do think he'd give you lots of tiny gifts all the time.
He'll pick up a quick breakfast for the both of you at the local bodega, he'll get your pet treats, he'll bring over your favorite candy or snack everytime he comes over to your place, etc.
Loves movie nights. Doesn't matter which movie it is, it could be some dumb, low budget nightmare made to babysit kids, or the best piece of visual media ever made by human hands.
He loves being able to talk to you, he loves hearing your opinions, loves hearing your voice. He'll recommend movies to watch just because he knows you'll have a lot to say about them.
I don't think he'd have a big moment where he introduces you to his entire family, I think he'd introduce you slowly, one person at a time.
I think he'd start with Dick or Cass, or Alfred, then so on and so forth. I think Tim and Damian would either be dead last, or have to find out on their own.
The only reason the others were told by Jason straight up is because they have that bare minimum amount of respect to stay out of his business. 💀
If you're a civilian, I don't think he'd want you to have anything to do with the more dangerous side of his life. It's bad enough you're dating him to begin with, he doesn't want to put you at anymore risk.
It's a somewhat different story if you're another vigilante. I still don't think he'd want you involved in his work specifically, but he would at least know you could take care of yourself if it came down to it.
He almost always wakes up before and goes to bed after you.
He likes seeing you when you're asleep, your hair a mess, or your bonnet askew.He thinks you're so cute when you're sleeping.
I don't think he'd take lots of pictures, but i don't think he'd mind if you did.
He might actually enjoy it if you just have a ton of selfies with him.
You are his lockscreen. Whether that was a decision made by you or him is still up for debate.
Doesn't care if you're more masculine or feminine, i think he'd find something to enjoy about both aspects.
Or if you were more androgynous.
He'd for sure call you "My girl".
A list of names I think he'd call you: My girl/wife, Wifey, Angel, Sweet thing, Princess, Baby
I've said it before and I'll say it again, the man LIVES for domesticity.
Even if you aren't married, you guys will act like an old married couple.
He's not my personal fave, but guess I had a lot of thoughts about him lol
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yanaromanov · 1 month
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pretty little beginnings
- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader
part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…
part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.
authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)
part one of the inescapable love series
inescapable love masterlist
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・ 。゚*. 18+, minors DNI . * 。゚・
7.8K words
The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.
Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.
Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.
In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.
So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.
Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.
A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.
Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.
“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”
Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”
The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”
Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”
The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.
American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.
“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.
“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”
You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.
———
“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”
Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”
The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”
A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.
“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”
Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.
“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.
Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”
Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.
The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.
Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.
The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.
Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.
“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”
All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.
The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.
It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.
Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.
“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”
All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.
“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”
A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.
“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”
You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.
Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.
Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.
The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.
———
“So how was it?”
Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.
“How was what?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.
“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”
Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”
You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”
Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”
Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”
Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”
You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.
The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.
“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.
“Romanoff.”
Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”
“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”
“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”
From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.
Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.
———
The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.
Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.
You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.
Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.
Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.
“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”
You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.
Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”
She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.
“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”
“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”
Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”
“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”
Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”
“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”
Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.
“Keys?”
“Shit.”
The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.
———
Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.
A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.
The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.
Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”
Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”
Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”
Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”
Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”
The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”
The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”
Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.
"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.
"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."
Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"
The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"
Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."
The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."
———
Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.
Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.
“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.
“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”
With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.
“Yes?”
A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”
If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.
Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.
Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.
See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.
The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.
Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.
Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.
You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.
As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.
The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.
“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”
The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.
“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.
When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.
“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”
As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.
“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”
It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”
Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“
The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.
“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”
You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”
That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”
You shook your head. “No.”
Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.
“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”
The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"
Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"
The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.
When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."
The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."
The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.
Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."
The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."
Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.
"And Y/N?"
You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."
For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.
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room-surprise · 3 months
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How Old Is Thistle?
(EDIT: I've made a follow-up post to this one that goes deeper into the math and additional evidence that the 5:1 ratio is correct. You can read it here!)
I've seen people debating this and a lot of folks insisting that Thistle is a child, and since Thistle just debuted in the anime, I wanted to do a full write-up to help myself and others figure this out.
We don't know how old any of the Merini family members are exactly, so the best we can do is guess based on the information we have, but after carefully studying the manga, I think Thistle is at least a teenager, but much more likely a young adult, and definitely not a prepubescent child.
Here's what we know:
EDIT: Depending on what translation you read of some of the extra materials, Freinag implies that Thistle is the same age as some of his advisors.
Here's a detailed translation of this panel from my friend Fumi:
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Elves age 5 times slower than tall-men.
16 year old tall-men in Dungeon Meshi's medieval time period are adults, they commonly join the military, get married, have children, etc.
An 80 year old elf is an adult. Pattadol is 82 and she's a lieutenant in a military unit. It's her first job and she's obviously a rookie, but Captain Flamela tells Pattadol to accomplish her mission or die trying.
Many fully adult elves look like what we might consider children or young teens, because they're short, petite, and have androgynous features.
An average elven adult is around 150-155cm tall (5 ft), meaning some are shorter than that, and some are taller. Thistle is 130 cm, which is short, but not unheard of.
Fleki is 130 (26) years old and she's 140 cm tall (4'7")
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Otta is 137 (27) years old and she's 130 cm (4'5") tall, the same height as Thistle!
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They are both women, but there's probably plenty of elven men in their height range.
Just so we can compare Thistle to some adult elven men, Mithrun and his brother are probably adults (or close to it) in the panel on the left.
Mithrun (in this image) is somewhere between 75 and 144 (probably in his 80's), and his brother is older than him (so he could be in his late 80s or 90s). As you can see, they don't look that different from Thistle, Otta or Fleki.
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So, how old is Thistle?
(Spoilers below the cut)
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Thistle was brought to the royal court as a child (found on the street, stolen or purchased, we don't know how they got him). At the absolute youngest I'd guess Thistle is 25 years old here (so about 5 years old for a tall-man.) He can already play the flute, and possibly the lute, and most children that aren't prodigies can't handle playing an instrument (physically or mentally) until they're around 5.
EDIT: We now know that Thistle is the same age as Freinag, the king that takes him in! So Thistle must be at least 25 years old in this comic, though realistically he could be anywhere from 25 to 40 based on how Kui drew Freinag.
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He lived in the court for an unknown amount of time, Freinag hasn't changed much but Thistle appears to have aged a little, so let's say it's been 5 years and Thistle is 30 (6) when Delgal is born. More than 5 years could have passed, but I'm trying to keep the numbers low.
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Delgal gets married and has a child. Delgal should be at least 15 at this point, but since he has a full mustache before his wedding, I think he's in his 20's, since teenagers tend to not be the best at growing robust facial hair.
(He has a full beard by the time Eodio's a young child.)
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Thistle puts the kingdom inside the dungeon around this point, however, people are still aging: Delgal's grandson Yaad is born, and Eodio is clearly a young adult here, probably in his 20's. Therefore, there is NO REASON to assume Thistle stopped aging. "The dungeon lords don't age" is a common fan headcanon I've seen people spreading, but it has no clear canon basis.
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Yaad ages until he looks about 13-15 years old, and at this point all of the people of the kingdom and Thistle appear to stop aging, and 1,000 years pass.
So, the youngest Thistle could possibly be, if he was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, if Delgal was 15 when he had Eodio, and Eodio was 15 when he had Yaad, and Yaad is 13 years old...
Is 73 years old, which would make Thistle about 14.6 years old by tall-man standards.
HOWEVER, I think it's VERY unlikely that all the characters are that young.
I think it's clear from Kui's drawings that Delgal and Eodio are not 15 years old when they become fathers, and that Freinag is at least 25 when he takes in Thistle.
If we assume Thistle was 30 when Delgal was born, and Delgal and Eodio were both at least 20 when they had children, even if Yaad is only 13 years old, that makes Thistle at least 83 years old (16.6), and makes him older than Pattadol, who is an adult at 82.
However, I think it's entirely possible that Thistle was anywhere from 40-50 when Delgal was born, and Delgal could have been anywhere from 20 to 30 when he had Eodio, and Eodio could have been anywhere from 20-25 when he had Yaad. If you use the maximum ages, and assume Yaad is 15, then Thistle could be as old as 120 (24).
I think a reasonable middle ground is assuming Thistle was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, Delgal had Eodio at 25, Eodio had Yaad at 20, and Yaad is 15... Which would make Thistle 90 (18) years old.
This of course says nothing about Thistle's emotional maturity or sanity, he's obviously stunted in some ways, but the point I want to make here is:
Thistle's age could be anywhere from 14.6 to 24 at the most extreme, but more realistically he's somewhere between 16.6 and 18.
And that's not even counting the thousand years that he's lived since then!
And that's all I've got to say about that 🙏🙏🙏🙏
(EDIT: Follow-up post with additional evidence here.) EDIT 2: I've seen a lot of people talking about the page Kui drew talking about elven earmuffs. It's considered just barely okay for Pattadol to wear them, but it's ok for Thistle to wear them... In which case I'd say Thistle could be any age younger than 83. That's handy as it knocks out some of the older ages!
So in that case Thistle's age is between 73 years old and 82, which makes him developmentally between 14.6 and 16.4!
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adrianfridge · 5 months
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I don't think enough people talk about the physical and mental energy it takes to cook when you weren't raised to cook.
It's not as simple as here are the ingredients and here are the steps. Cooking involves multi-tasking, timing, proportions, prepping, improvising, and more. The more complex the dish, the more juggling it requires.
Oh, and I haven't even mentioned obtaining the ingredients and the cleaning afterwards.
All these "healthy" and "save money" and "live better" motivational speeches to get people to cook more, and I'm over here like Cooking is Fucking Stressful and Incredibly Draining Actually.
I was raised a girl, but I'm entirely self-taught because my mom hated cooking and never bothered to teach me. She was convinced I'll just naturally learn on my own after I got married and was forced to cook for my husband and family 🙃
Anyway, I went through a HelloFresh phase several years ago to try to kick-start myself into a groove, but it never really latched on. I think the only thing I learned is the importance of prepping ingredients in advance so that once I'm bouncing around, things are just ready for me to grab.
This isn't to say I don't cook AT ALL EVER. I can make eggs on a skillet just fine. But it's a one-and-done kind of thing. Much like putting together a cold cut sandwich. But that's not Cooking™.
Turns out this past month I randomly got a hyperfixation to Cook™, so here I am facing the bone-tired aftermath of making meals that'll last more than one day.
After three weekends of going through it, here's how I autistically started handling the stress:
Find a recipe I will follow
Envision myself going through the steps and allocate a certain amount of energy to the task
Compile ingredients I need to obtain (or get my partner to obtain)
(If I have to go shopping myself, do it on a separate day from when I have to cook)
Open a Google Doc and copy/paste the recipe into it
Rewrite the recipe steps based on how I imagine I'll be going through them once I'm in motion
Mentally practice the steps
When it's time to cook, go through steps as I've mentally practiced them, with improvisation when real life takes a different turn
(If a lot of prep work is required, such as peeling and cutting potatoes, sit down to do it with a podcast before starting on anything else)
After cooking is complete, throw out any lingering garbage
My partner does the dishes :)
I'm sure it'll get easier the longer I do it, but this is exactly why I'm 34yo and always hated Cooking™ to the point that I budget for delivery and take-out on nearly a daily basis.
Cooking is hard actually.
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mymegumi · 4 months
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SHOULD BE ME, GIRL ෆ KAMO CHOSO
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⠀ word count: 0.9k ⠀ warnings: DARK CONTENT!—stepbrother!choso ⠀ (stepcest), afab!reader, masturbation, unknowing ⠀ voyeurism, choso listens in on stepsis!reader having sex, ⠀ choso fantasizes abt reader, protective!choso, reader says ⠀ daddy, choso calls you babygirl in his head ⠀ note: @doobea welcome to my mind may u enjoy this as ⠀ much as u can hehe
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sometimes, oftentimes, choso has to wonder if sharing a wall with his stepsister is a curse or a blessing.
a curse—he can hear you crying over your boyfriend missing your birthday, the loud music trying to drown out the sounds of your crying whenever he dumps you, or the constant arguing on the phone whenever the two of you end up back together a few days after he’d left you. the guy wasn’t good for you, and despite being not blood-related for the last half a year or so, choso felt as if he was intruding. had it been itadori or any of his other friends or family having any sort of bad relationship, he wouldn’t have had a second thought for saying that they deserved better.
with you, however, everything is and remains to be different with you.
choso feels… mildly guilty about his less than innocent feelings for you. it’s not his fault that your father had fallen for his mother and the two had gotten married, nor was it his fault that he found his stepsister to be the most alluring being on the earth. everything about you had been exactly as if he’d dreamed it himself, but he had to make do with the fact that he, by law, couldn’t have you.
the walls on the house are thin, and it’s times like these that he considers sharing a wall with you a blessing.
‘oh—! oh—!’ you moan, your voice carrying across the drywall separating yours and choso’s rooms. ‘please, i love feeling your cock in me!’
pressing the palm of his hand into his cock he groans so softly, so strained, that it feels desperate even to him. to imagine feeling what the soft, silkiness of your pussy clamp around his cock—he shudders at the mere thought of it.
choso is practically humping his own hand, desperate to feel any sort of friction on his cock as he can feel his moans leaving his mouth, but he’s trying to be good, to be quiet. grabbing the hem of his shirt, he pulls it up to his mouth and clenches down on it, pressing an ear against the drywall to get a better listen in on you and your boyfriend.
‘fuck me,’ you swear loudly, well aware of the fact that you and your partner were supposed to be alone in the house, ‘you love when i ride your dick like this, baby?’
his eyes slide closed as he worms his hand into his briefs, cock straining against the material and it’s sweet relief when his hand wraps around the base of his cock. he’s hard—he’s been listening to the two of you fucking for about twenty minutes already—and just the image of you, riding his cock with your breasts on full display before him, makes his dick grow just a little bit larger.
behind his eyelids, he imagines you with your hands sliding on your waist, your thighs gripping his hips as you bounce yourself up and down on his cock. he watches as his hands slide from your knees, to your thighs, fingers gripping your thighs and his hand uncontrollably grips his dick just a bit tighter. tightening his legs, he lets his shorts drop to the ground with his underwear. he squeezes gently when his hand reaches the tip, but lets it glide down his shaft smoothly and the sensation leaves goosebumps along his spine.
‘d-daddy!’ you whimper, ‘can i come?’
of course you can, babygirl. he thinks to himself, eyes opening as he watches sweat from his exertion trickle down his abdomen, disappearing in the line of his dark pubes. but only for me.
he hates to think it, but it doesn’t matter who you were riding—the only man who could please you, who knew you inside and out, was choso. your boyfriend would fuck you, but he knew that you’d never experience a true orgasm unless it was by his hand—by his cock.
he just wanted to protect you. your boyfriend was bad news, sleeping with other girls and probably calling you all sorts of names to his friends when you weren’t around. choso wouldn’t ever treat you like that, he’d treat you like the princess you were. choso would treat you like a goddess.
with a burning desire to protect you, to keep you safe from other men’s carnal instincts and unearthly desires, his hand begins to speed up, his grip tightening ever so slightly to, hopefully, send him over the edge. with his teeth bearing down on his shirt stuffed in his mouth, shorts pooled at his ankles and hand rubbing vigorously on his cock, choso listens to you ride your boyfriend in the other room.
he listens to you get yourself off, straining to hear every whimper and moan coming out of your mouth and imagines that it’s his cock you’re riding, that he’s the one eliciting those sounds. when he hears your soft, desperate admission that you were about to come, he feels his own heart stutter.
choso gasps, shirt dropping from his mouth as he lets his come splatter against his side of your shared wall, wishing he could’ve been coming inside of your squidgy pussy, instead. he stands still for a moment, head rested against the wall as he lets his heart rate calm down, his breathing return to normal before he begins to make himself presentable again.
this isn’t the first time he’s come to the thought or the sound of you. it is the first time you send him a knowing smile and wink in the living room a mere ten or so minutes later, which sends a zing straight to his dick.
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ʚ reblogs greatly appreciated! ɞ
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ateliersss · 3 months
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TOP GUN
…is part of The Bookshelf.
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Jake "Hangman" Seresin
This Isn’t What It Looks Like Summary: Hangman is totally, 100% over his ex… he just needs a fake girlfriend to prove it.
Baby, you down? Summary: 5 times Bradley was blissfully unaware of who you’re dating and the 1 time he wasn’t.
Saviour
Major Mistakes Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Clock Don't Stop Summary: After a big fight, you need some time away from Jake. A song that you are listening to reminds you of a very important lesson. Can you and Jake fix things?
Try Losing One Summary: After a big fight, Hangman takes a drive to clear his mind. A song that comes on the radio fits perfectly. 
Karma Summary: The fight that leads up to the events of "Try Losing One" and "Clock Don’t Stop".
It’s Not Me, It’s You Summary: Your ex is back in town and that might be the kick in the ass Hangman needs to change the parameters of your situationship.
Aw Honey Honey Summary: Jake isn't sharing his sugar.
Sleep Tight Summary: Jake Seresin knows he’s a good pilot. But what happens when skill and luck run out and you find your husband in the hospital for the first time?
You're Not My Type Summary: You only spent one evening with Jake, but it was enough to leave you wanting more and also have you hoping to never see him again.
Just Friends Summary: Everyone seems to think you’re Jake Seresin’s girl. It’s easier than explaining to them that you’re just friends with benefits. But that arrangement doesn’t seem to be working for either of you anymore.
Married? Summary: After Jake is called back to Top Gun for a mission, him and the Dagger Squad go out to the Hard Deck one night where Javy gets absolutely hammered and lets it slip that Jake has a wife.
I Just Want You To Like Me Summary: You’re a bartender at the Hard Deck while completing grad school, which is how you met Jake Seresin. You and Jake began a “friends with benefits” type deal, using Jake’s aviation obligations and your education as reasoning why things couldn’t get too serious. Over the months, you have started to harbor deeper feelings towards him, afraid to speak up about it and potentially ruin everything you have with him. But when Jake returns from a two-month mission, your feelings for him reach a turning point in a moment of self-consciousness.
The Beanery Summary: Jake goes from drinking the base’s stale coffee to bringing in cups from the cafe down the road from the hard deck, and the Dagger Squad is determined to find out why.
Opposites Attract Summary: How can Hangman, cocky, arrogant Hangman fall in love with a girl who is so different than him and raise a family completely opposite of him?
Rule Number One
Long Time Gone (Series) Summary: Penny Benjamin’s niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?
Coffee For Mrs. Seresin?
Never Knew (That I Could Fall So Hard) Summary: You and Jake are friends. Just friends.
Ice Ice Baby Summary: He knows he annoys you. You know he annoys you. And he’s made it his mission to melt your cold, dead heart. 
Right Back To You
A Ghost Playing Hangman (Series) Summary: Ghost was one of the most recent graduates from Top Gun quickly making a name for herself. When she gets recalled with the best of the best, she realizes her work is cut out for her if she wants to make the team. And one of her biggest obstacles is a blonde hair pilot with the world’s most annoying smirk. Will she make the team? And if so, at what cost?
Touch and Go Summary: You and Jake had been sleeping together for months, and as sure as you were of your feelings for him, you were unsure of his for you. He, however, certainly knew how he felt about you, and after you decide to go on a long trip without telling him, he lets you know just exactly what’s on his mind.
Wants and Needs Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin sets his sights on you, Rooster's best friend, but it doesn't take long for you to understand what type of man the cocky, blond pilot is. Unfortunately for Hangman, you have no interest in a womanizer. 
Who Did This To You? Summary: In your most vulnerable hour, Jake "Hangman" Seresin is the one to find you, and the one to ask you the ultimate question: "Who did this to you?"
Until Him Summary: He's all bronzed confidence, a stupid fly boy you should hate. Yet, you can't help the little thoughts that plague your mind.
Hooked From Hour One Summary: He watched as Rooster took you around, introducing you to everyone and Jake's eye twitched. The two of you looked awfully comfortable around each other, with tons of physical contact. You and Jake hadn't been dating long, but he thought that you were on the same stage as him when it concerned your relationship. Were you cheating on Rooster with him? But you wouldn't do that, right?
Nightmares Summary: In which you were in an accident during a mission, and have a nightmare that night, but Hangman is there to help and finally confesses his feelings.
Split Summary: You break up with Jake because his actions make you question everything you've had between you, but he wants you to take him back.
You Left Me No Choice But To STay Here Forever (Right Were You Left Me) Summary: You and Jake have been best friends for years and eventually he becomes the love of your life - which makes it that much harder to cope when he starts pulling away with no explanation.
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Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw
A Nice, Big Rooster Summary: Rooster is surprised to run into you on North Island. He's not, however, surprised to find that he still wants you as much as always.
It's Only My Heart (Save Yourself) Summary: Rooster's very bad, terrible day.
M.U.R.P.H. Summary: An undisclosed pregnancy that you and your husband try keeping a secret ends up being the reason you end up in hospital during a PTI session with the Dagger Squad.
Webb Of Unfortunate Events Summary: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw was and always would be the love of your life. When the pair of you are brought back to Top Gun, neither of you expected Pete Mitchell to be your instructor — a series of unfortunate events leads to your hospitalisation, with Rooster by your side.
The Ironies of Life Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Summary: A few weeks after breaking up with her long-term boyfriend because he wouldn't commit to marriage and kids, Naomi finds out that she's pregnant with his baby.
I Would Never Hurt You Summary: Bradley saw the bruises and knew what was going on, but he also knew you didn't need him the way he needed you.
Red Flags, Green Flags Summary: Hangman complains about his date's red flags, but Bradley thinks this girl sounds amazing. 
I Still Want You Summary: Bradley had been an idiot when it came to you. He still wanted you, but did you still want him?
My Future In You (Masterlist) Summary: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.
You don’t want this, do you? Summary: Reader is pregnant, but it's not Bradley's baby.
Misinterpretation of the Heart Summary: With Rooster away on a mission, you're left feeling lonely and missing him. That's when a past love comes back into your life just as Rooster returns home. 
A Misinterpreted Loss Summary: Bradley finally asked you out, but what happens when he walks out with another girl? Running to your best friend seemed like the only logical answer.
This Is Me Trying Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Summary: Bradley Bradshaw was the bane of your existence back at UVA. You practically burnt yourself out trying to outdo him. Now, you've quit your big shot engineering job in search of something more meaningful. The wind blows you across the country and into fightertown, where a familiar, sandy haired jackass is crooning away at the stupid piano in some naval bar. And you're not sure if you should wait for the next gust or plant your feet down.
Protective Summary: "He would've just kicked your ass... now he's gonna kill you."
What Have You Done? Summary: Pete's daughter is as wild as him, she's also as passionate as him. However, an incident during high school drove them apart until they were called back to Top Gun. The uranium mission too, took them from each other, leaving her helpless as she couldn't do anything to make the situation better and save the people she loves.
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Beau "Cyclone" Simpson
Banished
Mav's Daughter Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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Tom "Iceman" Kazansky
The Engineer Summary: You're just the engineer, a man like Tom Kazansky should have no reason to pay attention to you. Or at least that's what you thought.
Promise? Summary: You hear something that you’re not supposed to. Ice tries to explain himself. But is he too late?
She's His Girl Summary: Maverick has a talk with Iceman after the events in the locker room. Once you finally have a chance to explain yourself, Maverick realizes just how much you love each other.
Touch Summary: Ice notices that you have become more distant since you moved in together. When it’s been nearly weeks of you avoiding his touch, he confronts you about it.
Brothers Best Friend
Fatal Attraction Summary: Muchlike every other person that came across Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, you had developed quite the crush on him. What made you different, though, was that you were the niece of his direct superior. He knew it was wrong, and he knew he shouldn't entertain the idea in the slightest, but a little teasing never killed anyone, right?
Biggest Regret Summary: His biggest regret was that argument. It escalated beyond anything he wanted, but he gave you what you wanted. Would you still be waiting for him 6 months later?
Who Would've Thought Summary: When Iceman gets a pleasant surprise during the Top Gun training, it’s safe to say he isn’t the only one surprised.
Dash Summary: Being Slider's little sister is anything but easy, especially when you are placed among the best of the best.
Best Behavior Summary: Iceman has never been known as one to lose his temper. Secure in every single thing in his life, you, his girlfriend, happened to be no exception. During a night out at the bar, he witnesses a man with an ego almost as big as his try to flirt with you. Naturally, he contemplates murder.
Love of my Life Summary: Tom hadn't told his fellow pilots he's a married man. There's great satisfaction when he witnesses their reactions after you do it for him.
For What It's Worth Summary: Sometimes all it takes is a RIO who likes to gossip and some friendly competition to help you understand what you feel for Ice.
Wrong Answer, Sweetheart Summary: This man? Jealous? Possessive? Wherever did you get that idea?
Hurry Back to Me, Soldier
My Doll Summary: Who knew that Mister "Ice Cold, No Mistakes" could be with literal sunshine personified?
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Nick "Goose" Bradshaw
A Little Gosling Part 1, Part 2 Summary: Some frantic goodbye sex with your secret boyfriend Goose yields a little surprise. Four months later, Goose comes back stateside to attend Top Gun. Now, all you need to worry about is telling him before your brother Maverick finds out.
You Know Why Summary: You're a sexy sweetheart with a past and a toxic boyfriend. Goose sees that and wants better for you. Why? You know why.
Family Is What You Make It Summary: When Goose and Carole decided for a mutual divorce after realizing that they worked better as friends and co-parents rather than as Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw, they knew that along the line they would meet new people on their journeys — and now Nick wants Bradley and Carole to meet you, because he really likes you, and he wants them to like you too.
Gold Rush Summary: All the years of silent pining and anticipation between you and Goose are put to test when he realizes that if he doesn’t make his move, he's going to lose you — and maybe Maverick and Bradley help a little.
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Robert "Bob" Floyd
King Of My Heart Summary: An accident during training and a little liquid courage has Bob finally making his move.
The Kind of Girl I Could Love Summary: Bob has a secret admirer, but he’s convinced it’s actually Jake and Nat messing with him.
Devil Doesn't Bargain Summary: Bob has spent months watching your boyfriend be someone completely different than you think he is. The WSO is there to hold you when your world stops. All because of a man that you thought you could change.
Enterprise Summary: Bob likes to keep his personal life and work life separate. But returning to San Diego has been difficult so what better time to introduce you to his new friends than Halloween. It is a night for surprises, after all.
Radar Summary: After Phoenix and Bob are forced to eject after a freak bird strike — the Top Gun class find out a little bit more about their quiet back seat weapons systems officer.
Mission Impossible Summary: After Bob is picked to fly the mission with the Dagger team, memories of moments you both have shared together come flooding back—leading to a shock discovery.
Another Statistic
Baby On Board Summary: Being placed on a top secret mission weeks before his wife's due date was not what Lt. Floyd had imagined married life would be like.
The Captain's Daughter Summary: An unlikely candidate has you breaking your dad (and brother’s) “no pilots” policy.
Candy Summary: Bob falls for a beautiful barista over the course of a few encounters.
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Back to The Bookshelf
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megalony · 3 months
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She's My Daughter
This is an Eddie Diaz imagine based on a few combined requests. I really had fun with this one and might do a few more parts if anyone would be up for it. Feedback is always appreciated.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts
911 Masterlist
Summary: Eddie is ready to introduce his family to his team, but introductions go a little wrong when his wife has a seizure and his daughter crashes into the station... quite literally.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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"Is that a thing… bringing families to the station?" Eddie looked around the table of familiar faces, gauging their reactions to see if this was a joke or if Hen was actually being serious.
Eddie had done a lot of different, odd jobs since coming out of the army and none of those jobs had felt so much like a family as this one. He had never been that close to the people he worked with. Becoming a fire fighter and working in the 118 made Eddie feel like he had a proper family, not like the loose, estranged one he had back in Texas. He felt like he had a father in Bobby, a brother in Evan and another sister in Hen.
He stabbed a bit of pasta on his fork and waved it around his plate before he looked over at Bobby for confirmation.
"Yeah, families are always welcome here. We throw parties, barbeques and cookouts and everyone is invited. Do you have people you'd like to bring round?" Bobby leaned back in his chair with a gracious smile.
He tried to let all of his team know that family always came first. They were all welcome to bring their families to look round the station, meet the team and get to know everyone. They were all a family here and therefore Bobby wanted it to feel homely and for everyone to get along and know each other.
A gentle smile formed on Eddie's lips as he set down his fork and interlaced his fingers together beneath his chin.
"I uh, I'd like my family to meet you all, if that's okay?"
He had been working here for over three months now, it felt the right time to introduce his family to his team. They protected him at work every day, they had a right to meet the people they helped send him home to after every shift.
"Bring them for dinner one day this week."
"So, who are we meeting? You said you have a few sisters, right?" Evan reached out and patted his hand against Eddie's shoulder with a grin that started to morph into a confused frown when Eddie shook his head.
"I was thinking more about my wife and kids."
"You have kids?" Hen smiled, but she couldn't keep the surprise from her voice or stop her brows from arching up. Eddie never said anything about a family. He talked to Evan and opened up to him more than the rest of them, but he hadn't mentioned a family. They only knew he was married because of the wedding ring on his finger and Eddie didn't even talk about his wife to them so nobody asked.
"I have two girls and a boy." Eddie's face lit up into a grin at the thought of the four people he had waiting at home for him.
"How old?"
Chimney thought Eddie seemed the fatherly type. Whenever they were out on a call and kids were around, Eddie could always take charge. He talked to them in that soft voice and bent down to their level and seemed to understand whatever they were talking about or going through. But Chimney wouldn't have guessed he had so many kids.
"Bella's fourteen, Chris is nine and Rosie is only four months, we had her just after we moved to LA."
It had been a hectic time to decide to move away from Texas, but it had been the right thing to do. Eddie had a turbulent relationship with his parents, his dad had never really been involved in his life and as much as he loved his mother, she was overbearing.
It was hard when Eddie first came out of the army and had his parents around almost every day, acting as if he couldn't look after his two kids. Eddie brought up his sisters when he was a teen, he had been the man of the house while his dad worked away. He didn't want his parents on his doorstep everyday and everyone hovering around his kids or telling him his job wasn't right for him.
As for (Y/n), her relationship with her own mother was strained and she had no contact with her dad, so moving was a fresh start for everyone.
Eddie did his training for the fire department back in Texas, found the 118 and got his application all sorted and agreed before they moved. Three days into living in their new house in LA, Rosie decided she wanted to be born three weeks early so Eddie couldn't start with the department for a few extra weeks.
Now they were all settled into their home, the kids were settled at school and everything seemed to be slotting into place.
It was time Eddie introduced them to his work family.
***
Sinking back on his heels, Eddie swiped his bare arm against his temple and did a quick sweep around the truck. He tapped his fingers against his thighs and shuffled to lean over the side of the truck. He had fixed the ladder back into place and given the fire truck a quick clean while Hen worked on restocking the equipment in both the truck and the ambulance.
"Heads up, someone's got a clipboard handy."
Eddie pointed towards the stairs and gave Hen a certain, knowing look because he knew what was going to happen. She was going to argue with Evan because he was on one of his checklist rants. He was a menace with a clipboard and Hen lost her patience with him nine times out of ten.
He grinned at the way Hen sighed and planted her hands on her hips and silently shook his head with a raised brow.
Turning around, Eddie pushed up to his feet and slowly headed to the end of the truck towards the mini ladder to get back down.
"Excuse me… stop… stop!"
Eddie tilted his head up and glanced around, trying to locate Bobby when he heard his rather panicked voice. His eyes narrowed and his hands planted down on his hips as he stayed on top of the truck as his eyes landed on his captain.
Bobby was stood to the front of the station near the open shutters, holding both his hands out in front of him towards a car.
The car was juttering back and forth and whoever was driving had their foot on the gas pedal, reving the engine as if wanting to make an entrance and gain everybody's attention. But they weren't slowing down. The car jolted backwards, then surged forwards and sped through the shutters. No one was supposed to drive into the station. There was a car park round the back for staff when they arrived and a small car park at the front for any visitors or emergencies.
What on Earth was the driver doing?
Panic shot through Eddie's chest and his complexion paled when he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at the number plate.
Oh God.
That was (Y/n)'s car.
"Fuck!" Eddie turned on his heels and clambered to the end of the truck, grabbing the handles of the ladder so he could slide down and jump down to his feet. His boots thudded against the floor and his knees jerked from the impact but he paid it no mind. "That's my wife's car!"
His feet moved faster than his mind could comprehend and he sped past Hen who followed hot on his heels. He weaved past the ambulance and moved towards Bobby who was stood in the middle of the station floor, his arms still out in front of him to try and stop the car from crashing into any equipment or the ambulance.
"Christ- (Y/n) stop the car!" What the Hell was she doing? Eddie tangled one hand in his hair as he held his breath. His wife wasn't a bad driver. She was quite a good driver considering she hadn't been driving for very long. She knew what she was doing and she knew not to drive into the middle of the station like this. She must be having some kind of emergency to be doing this.
Eddie's hand fell from his hair and he surged forward when the car juttered again and almost hit Bobby. And when Evan ran into the situation, he planted his hands down on the bonnet and hit it a few times to try and get her attention and make her stop.
A sudden burst of anger radiated through Eddie when he leaned down to look through the window. That wasn't his wife.
He got close enough to grab the handle and wrenched the door open, letting it swing far and wide before he leaned down and pushed into the car. His knees hit the chair and his shoulders pinned up against the roof as he leaned in the middle and yanked on the hand break to stop the car rolling backwards or surging forwards and running over his colleagues.
As quick as anything, Eddie unclipped the seatbelt before he wrapped his hand tightly around her arm and pulled back, yanking her out of the car with him.
"Isabella Diaz! What the Hell are you doing?!"
Eddie took a few steps back and pulled his eldest child along with him. His chest heaved and his lungs burned as he tried to take proper breaths but it felt like he was being suffocated.
His hands moved out to cup Bella's face and he tilted her head up so they were level and he could look her over. His eyes swept up and down her frame, looking for injuries or any signs of a problem or an issue. But all Eddie could see was her face turning a dark shade of red, her eyes puffing up and tears drenching down her face.
"That's uh… that's your wife?" Evan clamped his hands down on his hips but he frowned when Bobby hit him in the shoulder as a silent bid to tell him to be quiet. But Eddie was the one who said it was his wife's car coming into the station.
If that was his wife, then there were a few problems around here.
"Dad!" Bella moved her hands up to cup Eddie's wrists and took a second to try and catch her breath.
She had done it. She had gotten the car down to the station- the right station, where her dad would be. She had gotten them here in one piece and now she could get them to help her mum.
Fury bubbled up in Eddie's eyes when he looked over at Evan. He was starting to think of Evan as one of his closest friends. But he didn't think Evan would actually believe that this was his wife. As if he thought Eddie was some kind of weirdo who would go round marrying someone over half his age? What did he take him for?
"She's my daughter." He snapped back, somewhat rudely before his attention turned back to Bella and he started to smooth his thumbs beneath her eyes. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, silently telling her to talk to him and explain.
"Mum- mum's had a seizure," Bella pulled on Eddie's hand and pointed into the car.
She watched the way his shoulders slumped and his face fell completely and his jaw slacked but he couldn't fathom what to say.
His hands left her face and he turned around and propelled himself around the car. His hand scraped against the bonnet to help guide him round and stop him from skidding as he nudged past Evan to get to the passenger side. He opened the door and crouched down beside the chair to look over his wife.
"Can someone get the kids out please?" Eddie's lips pursed when he glanced in the back and felt his heart dropping down to his stomach.
Chris and Rosie were in the back.
Bella had driven all the way here with the kids in the back and (Y/n) mostly unconscious in the front seat. She could have gotten them all killed. She didn't have a licence and she didn't know how to drive. Bella shouldn't have been on the road and if her parking in the station was anything to go by, she would have been a menace on the roads.
Hen mumbled a quiet 'Hi cutie' as she unclipped Rosie from her carrier and gently picked her up, shushing her when she began to scream her little head off. And Evan moved round behind Eddie and grinned down at Chris who had a teddy pinned to his chest and was rocking back and forth in a mixture of stimming and panic. He picked him up when Chris didn't object and moved to stand over beside Hen while Bobby moved to kneel behind Eddie.
"Baby… baby, you with me?" Pushing up, Eddie moved his hands to cup (Y/n)'s face and gently tilt her head from where it was slumped against the door frame and the seatbelt.
He pushed his thumbs against her cheekbones to try and stimulate her before he moved his hand round and pressed his fingers against her neck to check her pulse.
A light tremble was rattling through (Y/n)'s body that was pushing back into the seat and Eddie could see a trail of blood trickling down her lower lip towards her chin. She had bitten her lip or her tongue during the seizure enough to make it bleed.
Her eyes were closed and when Eddie pulled up her eyelid to try and check her pupils, he growled. Her eyes were rolled to the top of her head.
"I take it this is your wife? Is she epileptic?" Bobby rested one arm on the roof of the car and leaned in to try and take a look at (Y/n).
They were supposed to meet Eddie's family in three days, he was going to bring them down to the station for dinner so they could all be introduced and get to know each other. This was not the way Eddie wanted them all to meet and this wasn't the kind of situation he wanted his kids to be involved in. His daughter had been panicked enough to try and drive the car down here to get help.
"She was diagnosed four years ago, but she hasn't had a seizure in months. She has absent ones, not like this." The last seizure Eddie could remember (Y/n) having was when she was pregnant with Rosie and that had been a small one while they were at home in the evening. She hadn't suffered with them for a long while.
When she first got diagnosed, (Y/n) was having two or three absent seizures a week and the odd tonic seizure where she tensed up and jerked around. She had been put onto meds to stop them and her meds had been reduced last year because she was doing so well not having any.
"Alright baby, let's get you out." With one arm around her back, Eddie unclipped her belt and slipped his other hand beneath her knees.
He pulled back and shuffled (Y/n) into his arms, letting her head loll on his shoulder with Bobby's hands on her neck to try and keep her steady and stop any damage from happening. Eddie stood up and took a few quick steps away from the car and over near the ambulance before he went down on his knees and eased (Y/n) down to the floor.
He laid her down and knelt down behind her, resting her head and shoulders over his lap before he started to run his hands up and down her arms to try and stimulate her and bring her back around.
"I'll take the kids up to the kitchen, come on." Evan gently eased Rosie from Hen and into his own arms and moved his free hand against Chris's back. Gently urging him to walk with him. He would get Chris a drink in the kitchen and settle him in front of the tv to try and calm him down and let him know that everything was alright now.
"Is mum okay?"
Before she could stop herself, Bella curled her hand around Hen's upper arm and stood close to her side with her left arm wrapped tightly around her middle to try and calm herself down and make herself breathe better. She leaned her head on Hen's shoulder, unable to stop the tears from falling again.
She had done well not to cry or burst into sobs while she was driving down here. Bella had told herself to be stern and calm so she didn't crash and hurt her whole family. It had worked. But now she was here, safely where she wanted to be, she could feel herself starting to shake and her chest was tightening up.
"Amor what happened?" Eddie lifted his head to look over at his daughter who took a few daring steps forward with Hen who was comfortingly holding her wrist and smiling at her. "Why did you drive here? You could have called 911." He couldn't see why Bella would take the risk of driving down here instead of calling for an ambulance.
She could have asked them to inform Eddie of the situation or call him once she'd called for help. It seemed drastic for her to pack everyone into the car and drive down here when she didn't know how to drive and Bella had been adamant she never wanted to learn to drive. She thought it was too scary.
"We were driving and mum felt sick, s-she pulled over but when she got out… she collapsed on the pavement. She had a seizure and I panicked… I p- I got her in the car, we were only f-five minutes away so… so I drove."
Tears drenched Bella's face as she tucked herself more into Hen's side and coiled both her arms around her chest, swaying back and forth.
She didn't know what to do.
One moment, (Y/n) pulled over and got out the car saying she was going to be sick, but the next thing Bella knew, her mum was on the floor having a seizure. And not the kind of seizure she usually had. She was flailing about, jerking, hardly breathing and biting her lip so hard she was froffing blood. When it stopped, (Y/n) wasn't talking and she was barely moving.
Bella didn't want to call an ambulance and leave the car on the side of the road and have to get Chris and Rosie rammed into the back of a crowded ambulance. She knew her dad was only five minutes down the road and it seemed like an easy task to drive straight down the road and turn a corner and reach the station.
And it was an emergency. If someone pulled her over, she would still get help either way.
So she managed to hoist her mum up and help her flop into the car and she did her best to drive down here while her mum had another seizure on the way.
All she wanted was Eddie.
"Cap…" Hen looked between Bobby and Bella until he got the silent message and nodded. They needed to switch places so Hen could help Eddie get (Y/n) stabalised and sorted out and someone needed to stay with Bella and calm her down.
Hen gently eased herself from Bella's side when Bobby walked over and curled his arm around her shoulder to try and give her some comfort. But just as Hen reached into the ambulance and grabbed her medic bag, she froze when Bella cried out and a few Spanish profanities slipped past Eddie's lips.
Eddie's hands moved to hold (Y/n)'s shoulders and he shuffled back before he tried to turn her over. He eased her onto her left side and knelt behind her with one hand cupping the back of her neck and his other hand lightly rubbing up and down her arm. She was going into another seizure. He kept her head tilted forward, Eddie didn't want to risk (Y/n) biting down again and choking on her tongue or on the blood welling up in her mouth.
"Alright, I've got you baby, it's okay." Eddie pressed his knees into her back to keep her kept on her side while Hen knelt down in front of her with her medic bag at her side.
While Hem rummaged around for some meds in the bag, Eddie swiped the stethoscope which he tucked into his ears and carefully pressed down between (Y/n)'s shoulders to listen to her breathing. He then curled his chest over her arm and pressed it beneath her shirt to listen to her heartbeat.
"Breathing's good, heart sounds fine."
"Pushing diazepam,"
Eddie gripped (Y/n)'s upper arm and tried to hold her trembling limb steady so Hen could inject the diazepam into her shoulder. It was the safest palce to administer meds when the rest of her body was violently jerking back and forth. And (Y/n) was already bleeding from the mouth, they couldn't administer any emergency tablets under her tongue right now. This was the next best option to try and stop the seizure and spasms.
"Dad…" Bella tried to run forward but Bobby reacted faster. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest, almost lifting her from her feet to stop her from reaching her parents. It wasn't safe for her to try and get involved. (Y/n) was being looked after.
Eddie lifted his head and tightened his hands over (Y/n)'s arm and neck when his eyes locked with his daughter who was almost the double of his wife.
"Carino stay with Bobby. It's okay." Eddie nodded his head until Bella stopped writhing in Bobby's hold and settled down. He didn't want her getting distressed either or trying to bustle over here. She needed to stay there, safe and out the way.
"It's working, she's calming down." Hen found a saline bag and the necessary needles in the medic bag and placed them by her thigh, ready to give to (Y/n) when the spasms fully wore off. The last thing she needed was to try and push an IV into (Y/n)'s hand and have her go back into another seizure and rupture a vein.
"She's gonna be sick."
Eddie reached his arm out and pressed his hand into Hen's shoulder, trying to nudge her to the right to get her out the way.
He moved his hands back to (Y/n) and tilted her chin down, keeping his fingers curled around her neck to keep her head down so she didn't choke. While he brushed her hair behind her ear and reached down to cup her wrist and pull her hand back.
He could see the way her stomach was tensing and sucking inwards and her chest was pushing forward instead of convulsing.
"Let it out, baby. Good girl," He leaned over to kiss her shoulder and slipped his hand from her wrist to grip her hand. Both he and Hen watched her chest closely and made sure she was still breathing and not choking.
A wave of relief tremored through Eddie when he felt (Y/n)'s fingers twitch against his hand and her arm suddenly jerked out. She coiled her arm to her chest, pulling Eddie's arm along with her which made his chest press down into her shoulder so he could curve around her.
Her knees tensed and kicked back and forth in an attempt to try and bring her knees up to her stomach. A burning gasp mixed with a cry vibrated past (Y/n)'s lips and her temple bashed into the floor when she tried to turn her head and press her face down into the floor.
With a deep breath, Eddie inched himself backwards and gently scuffed (Y/n) along with him to get her away from the puddle of sick. He let go of her hand and moved his arm around her waist and with his other hand against the back of her head, Eddie gently lifted her up. He reeled her up and let her flop back into his chest with a thump. Her head lolled into the crook of his neck and her temple pressed into his chin with a groan.
While she started to take deep breaths and murmur incoherent noises against Eddie's neck, Hen reached out and pulled her hand onto her thigh. She quickly slipped the needle into her vein and capped the IV in, keeping the tube wide open to let as much saline flow through her veins as possible. The seizures would have taken a toll on (Y/n) and they needed to boost her levels back up and get her back to normal again.
"It's alright baby… are you back with me now, hm?" Eddie kissed her temple and kept one hand pressing down on her stomach while the other hand feathered up and down her arm.
(Y/n) turned her head from left to right, wincing and whining when Hen pulled her eyelid up and flashed a light across her pupils. At least her eyes were now back down and looking ahead instead of rolled up to the back of her skull.
"Eddie,"
A spasm rolled through (Y/n) and sent her right side jerking out with her foot scraping the floor, her leg jostling from side to side and her right arm bashed down into her chest making her cry out. It was like the last waves of electricity were rolling through her on their way out of her system.
She could feel sparks flying down to her toes and her fingertips had gone stiff like they were turning to stone.
The feeling of Eddie's lips pressing into the side of her head was comforting and his hands were squeezing her skin with his arms wrapped around her like a security blanket. But (Y/n) couldn't work out why Eddie was holding her. Why was he here? When did he get here? What were they doing?
"Yeah, it's me baby."
"Home?"
"Home? No, you're not going home mi amor." Eddie sighed into her hair and smothered the top of her head with his lips as he tightened his arms around her waist.
There was no way he was taking her back home. He had to take her down to the hospital along with the kids to get her checked out before he even thought about taking her home.
"Home… you- you're home," (Y/n) tried to keep her eyes open but everything was so bright she wished the world would shut down and turn pitch black. Her face pressed as deeply into Eddie's neck as she could until she was almost smothering herself and she could feel very bob of his Adam's apple and each harsh breath he took.
"You're not at home, baby… you're at the station. You were driving, you and the kids, in the car…?" Eddie wasn't used to (Y/n) being this confused after a seizure. But then again, she'd had about three of them in the last hour from what Bella had told them. She was bound to be confused and agitated and scared.
He could feel (Y/n) shaking her head into his neck, she didn't believe or understand what he was telling her and he knew it was pointless to try and talk her through it now.
(Y/n) could barely see a thing when she managed to keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. She tightened her right hand around Eddie's palm but when she moved her left hand to try and reach up to hold onto him, something caught her eye. Her blurred vision tried to focus on her hand and her lips curled into a frown when she noticed a pastel white and leaf green plastic cap in the back of her hand, connected to a thin tube.
Whatever that was, (Y/n) didn't want it.
Her hand let go of Eddie's palm and before he could ask what she was doing, (Y/n) huffed and scratched off the cap in her hand.
"Oow," Tears stung in the corners of her eyes and she whimpered when her left hand started to spasm and a trickle of blood started oozing down and slithering between her fingers.
"Baby!" Eddie scolded through clenched teeth. "No- no, stop. Baby let me fix it, okay?"
Eddie perched his chin on (Y/n)'s right shoulder and wrapped his right arm around her chest, pinning her arm between them so she couldn't fight him or try and stop him from patching up her hand. He held her left wrist in both hands and pushed his chin down into her shoulder both to comfort her and make her stop wriggling.
He held her hand out towards Hen who was quick to run a swab over her hand to clean the blood before she carefully pushed the needle back into her hand and connected the tube back up.
"Bandage it please." Eddie whispered quietly, relieved when Hen smiled and grabbed a small roll of bandage.
Eddie had had this fight hundreds of times when (Y/n) was admitted to the hospital. Especially after she gave birth. She never wanted the canula in and always tried to take it out until Eddie bandaged her hand up so she couldn't see or touch it.
"Mum?" Bella pushed forward when Bobby let her out of his hold and allowed her to rush over and kneel down beside Hen.
She reached her hands out and wrapped her arms around both her mum and her dad, wedging (Y/n) between them in a hug. She tucked her face into (Y/n)'s neck, unable to stop crying when she felt her mum kiss her temple and try to hold her hand.
"Bella, wait here for a minute please while I move your mum." Eddie curled his fingers in the back of her hair and kissed her temple before he motioned for her to shuffle back a bit. He slipped his arms back around (Y/n)'s back and beneath her knees to pick her back up, relieved that she could seemingly move again. She hooked an arm around his neck and closed her eyes, tucking her face into his chest as he aimed for the ambulance.
Eddie knew the moment (Y/n) woke up properly and became aware of where she was and what was happening, she would kick off. She didn't like hospitals and she wouldn't want to be in an ambulance, but he had to get her to hospital. And he wanted to at least lay her on the gurney so she could start to come back round properly.
"I'll be two minutes, baby, I'm just gonna get the kids. This is Hen, she'll wait with you."
Once (Y/n) was laid on the gurney, Eddie kissed her temple and brushed his thumb over her cheek. He had a feeling she would pass out and have a nap, she didn't look like she could stay awake for much longer and he wouldn't blame her. It would be easier to transport her if she went to sleep for a while.
He patted Hen's shoulder, whispering a quiet 'thank you' in her ear before he climbed down and moved over towards Bella who was stood off to the side. both arms cocooned around her chest that was trembling and tears were flushed down her face.
The moment he was within reach, Bella tangled her arms around his torso and buried herself into his chest. He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt and each quiet sniffle she let out as she trembled so much she made Eddie start to shake back and forth. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tangled his other hand in her hair, cupping the back of her head while he leaned down to kiss her temple.
"Shh, it's alright carino."
"I- I'm sorry… I'm sorry daddy-"
"It's okay." Pulling back, Eddie moved his hands to cup her face so he could tilt her head up while his thumbs swiped away the tears tracing down her face. "I'm not mad, I swear."
"But… but the car…"
"I don't want you driving the car again, I mean it. But I'm not mad, you panicked and you came straight here, you got help. But next time, you don't try and drive the car with the kids in the back. You call an ambulance and then call me and I'll always come get you. Okay?"
There was no way that Eddie could be mad at her. She had been in a stressful situation and in her panic, she made a decision. It might not have been the right decision in the long run, but she had gone along with it and got everyone here in one piece. She brought (Y/n) somewhere safe and got her help and everyone was okay which was the main thing.
But if something like this ever happened again, Eddie needed Bella to call for help rather than take it into her own hands to find help herself.
She could have gotten herself into serious trouble if someone reported her or witnessed her or if she crashed. She could have made everything worse if she crashed the car with her unconscious mum and younger siblings in the car with her.
Eddie was going to be having nightmares about this for weeks, he could feel it.
"Okay," Bella nodded frantically before she pushed forward and tucked herself back into Eddie's chest, binding them both together like she was never going to let him go. Her arms stayed tightly bound to him until he held her shoulders and gently nudged her back so he could turn towards Evan who was walking their way with Rosie in his arms and Chris by his side.
"Everyone okay now?"
Eddie sighed through a smile and nodded his head, leaning forward to kiss Rosie's forehead before he reached over for Chris and picked him up. He kissed Chris's cheek and sat him on his hip although he could still feel Bella stood close to his side with her hands wrapped around his arm.
"Mummy okay?"
"She's fine, buddy. We're gonna take her down to the hospital though to get checked over, okay?" Eddie leaned back and took a glance over his shoulder towards the ambulance. He could guess that since (Y/n) wasn't arguing or shouting or crying out for him that she had indeed fallen asleep.
He could get Bella to ride in the ambulance with (Y/n) and the team while he took Chris and Rosie in (Y/n)'s car and followed behind them.
"Bell went through a red light," Chris leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder and grinned when Bella reached her hand out and lightly tapped his arm before she pressed her finger to her lips.
Her head tilted down and her eyes stayed on the floor when she felt her dad's piercing gaze fall on her and she could feel his elbow jutting into her side when he clamped his free hand down on his hip.
"Did she now?"
Lifting her gaze, Bella tried to smile but when she looked across at Evan, he was grinning at her and silently gave her a thumbs up with his hand hidden at his side so Eddie wouldn't see. "You said you're not mad at me," She whispered sheepishly, to which Eddie hummed with pursed lips.
He couldn't tell her off when he'd already explained he wasn't ngry and he knew she had acted out of panic. He just had to pray that within the next week, he wouldn't get any phone calls or letters to the house saying he had a traffic ticket for going through a red light or being caught speeding.
The only upside was that if that happened, Eddie could have a word with Bobby. He knew his captain would gladly talk to Athena and anyone else at the station to explain what had happened. They couldn't exactly charge Bella with anything when it was an emergency situation and she had done the right thing.
But Eddie's brows narrowed his chest tightened when he felt Chris lean up and whisper in his ear, "Bell hit a lamp post too."
"Isabella!"
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