#12 year age gap is crazy

[phantom--brainz]

Unpopular opinion or whatever, but I do not like Ellis x Nick. Nick is 35 years old, Ellis is 23. Ellis would've been 5 when Nick was graduating High School. I find the pairing a little weird tbh, and I see a lot of people put a weird power inalance on them

Also, age aside, even with their interactions, it just feels more familial than romantic. It's portrayed that Ellis is seen like a younger brother to Nick and Rochelle, and like a son to Coach. I wish I had more people that agreed with me on this topic. I also don't think Nick is in a spot where he's capable of a relationship. That ego and persona he puts up would make it very difficult to have a healthy relationship with ssomeon, since he has this constant blockade up.

What I will agree on that I've seen is Nick and Francis. I can see something there. Maybe they could form a bond, maybe they were exes, who knows! I could see them having something. I also like the canon relationship of Ellis and Zoey. I think they're cute. Or Ellis and Keith. I think Ellis has the BIGGEST crush on his best friend.

[ichabodcranemills]

i'm devastated by the canonical 12 year markhellyna age gap and need you to explain why it's a good thing

the actors have a 12 year age gap, I always assumed it was the same for the characters. I thought it odd when everyone began saying that it was more than that, but then, boom, I was right. Vindication?

[lavenite]

been feeling bad since the start of this year and quit taking my meds but! i had a really good day today. decided that after my trip im gonna try to get a job at the daycare in the town over, contacted a therapist, finally discovered that my shitty tiny iowa town DOES in fact have a park which is right next to the traintracks so i can go out and play my guitar there and go on walks. feeling good :)

[voxslays]

SMUTTY IN-HO HEADCANNONS

✩ Heavy breeding kink. This man wants someone to carry on his legacy, to carry on the games and be the next frontman—and when he thinks of you, your stomach all swollen from carrying his seed…he can’t help but get hard.

✩ I’ve seen a couple posts stating he’d date a younger woman, which I agree with…but not too much younger. Like maybe 10-12 year age gap at most. He wants someone mature, but a little younger. He doesn’t want you to die before him. He couldn’t handle another loss.

✩ Will bend you over any and every surface. The kitchen counter? Check. His desk? Check. In-ho doesn’t care, as long as you’re comfortable as he takes you from behind.

✩ Loves cockwarming. For him, it’s an anywhere, anytime activity. When he’s sitting in his office doing paperwork for the games? Yep. When he’s sitting in his private suite during the games, when red light, green light is being broadcasted to his TV? Definitely.

✩ He is also a very caring partner, even if it seems the opposite sometimes. He will always put your pleasure above his own. Never coming before you do, and always making sure he has a safeword if you ever need to stop.

✩ This man also has a CRAZY amount of stamina. In-ho was a police officer at one point, so he had to have at least some agility experience or training. He is also very skilled for his age and can go for literal hours. So I hope you’re ready for a wild ride, babe!

✩ In-ho is the perfect mix of degrading and praising. Names he will call you during steamy time range from slut, to darling, to your own name. He will really call you anything under the sun as he pounds into you.

[lunarcowgirl]

lean with me | two

yeah yeah i wrote another part for my fuckass jack abbot x f!doctor!reader fic <3

read part one here and part three here

not my gif! but i do feel crazy about it!!!!!

~

jack abbot made a damn fool of himself in front of the one person he desperately wants to rely on him, now he's got to hope you'll let him fix it.

~

from the office of the author: damn! ya’ll got me feeling some kind of way in the comments and reblogs, I didn’t look at tumblr all day after part one scared it would have no notes 🥹 thank you so so much for your kind words!!!!! ideas for these two are currently eating out my brain like a terrible infectious disease, so expect more soon xoxoxoxo

also, if by chance you have requests/ideas/thoughts drop me an ask, you’d warm the freezing cockles of my heart <3

warnings: age gap of 10+ years, old man is a goose, the weather is shit in pittsburgh but i am from the southern hemisphere so i don’t understand how real winter works pls forgive me, #rollins apologist behaviour from the author, characters stand close to the edge of buildings but they don’t have any plans for leaving said building, bad grammar, bit o’ angst, bit of fluff (as a treat)

word count: 1.6k

Dr Abbot thought he was doing a rather terrible job at feeling anything other than pathetic thank you very much. The final 30 minutes of the shift dragged into eternity, and you were never close enough. You quietly extracted yourself from every scenario in which Jack might touch you or say your name. Hands quick, words gentle, you continued to heal your patients, but the wound between you and Jack remained gaping.

As 7am dawned, black and cold, Jack found himself to be in an entirely black and cold mood. And Robby’s aggravating cheerfulness upon arrival certainly did little to help.

“Brother,” The new father chirped across the desk, “How’d it go last night?”

“Sparkly.” Jack deadpanned, nearly tearing through the paper under his hands with the scratch of his pen. The computer you’d spent so much time hunched over this shift was now dark and quiet.

Usually you would wait to say goodbye before leaving, punching him lightly on the arm, cracking something wise-ass about putting his compression sock on right when he got home, letting his body rest.

“Don’t want the old legs given out on us now do we?”

You’d smile a smile that would tear right through him, making him feel young, like he could run on those old, broken and missing legs forever and ever. Every time it was a battle to not chase after you, to catch you at your car, to ask if you’d smile at him somewhere other than a place that always stunk of pain. That smile was no where to be seen. He tried his best to ignore the sensation of panic sitting near his heart.

“That bad huh?” Robby frowned, looking across one of the calmest Pitts they’d had in months.

“How is it at Casa Robinavitch?” Jack asked, putting down his instrument of destruction to look up at his friend. Robby looked 20 years younger, almost *glowing—*the freak.

“Baby slept 12 hours,” He declared throwing his hands up in delight. “Heather is perfect, and she is all mine tonight,” He added, only marginally quieter, eyebrows dancing.

In the wake of PittFest and all its rotting, rubbing, terror and ugliness, Robby and Heather deserved some goodness. But so much of it, right in front of Jack, was not kind on the stomach in this particular moment.

“Godspeed brother.” Jack laughed, rising from the desk and grabbing his friend’s shoulder for a quick squeeze. “Don’t fuck it up please?”

Robby nodded, smile unmoved, “I won’t. Now can you get your ugly mug out of my face please, I have work to do.”

“Yeah, yeah, have a good shift.”

Standing in front of his locker, the prospect of returning to a freezing, empty house for the next few days held no sense pleasure for Jack. What were the chances that if he wished hard enough, when the door clicked open you would be sitting on his couch in that ratty Penguins jersey you so adored, arms open and waiting for him? Slim, he decided. The usual low growl of the shift’s repressed hardship echoed through his head, waiting to eat away at him in the silence outside the ER. A quick trip to the roof, a few minutes in the freezing cold, would steady him enough to face it…and the absence of you.

The echo of your words seemed to bounce off the concrete walls of the stairs as he ascended.

What right do you have? Like it’s me that’s hurting you*?!*

He sped up; as if he’d ever been able to escape your voice. How was he going to explain his regret, his apology to you? Every last combination of words he tried felt shallow and inadequate. You deserved so much more than cello-taped sentences of shame.

Exploding out into sub-zero was euphoric. For just a moment, the world was in sharp focus, the blur of the past several hours evaporating into nothing but white. Pittsburgh peered down at him, the concrete offering its own disapproving look, the glass its own sting, the barren trees their own answer. Someone else was peering back at it, standing on the other side of the rail, leaning against the freezing metal.

That puffer.

You’d bought it on the very first day of Summer, parading it around the sweltering heat of a Pitt with aircon on the fritz.

“It cost me barely anything,” You told anyone who would listen, “Guess how much!”

You’d twisted back and forth, ensuring everyone got a good angle of the quality, nearly taking out Whittaker in your enthusiasm. Eventually you’d spun around to face Jack.

“Go on Cap, guess!”

He’d said something, a number plucked from obscurity. He couldn’t remember it now, or wether he’d been right. All he was thinking, now and then, was that it exactly matched the colour of your eyes.

He didn’t approach quietly, not wanting to startle you. Each crunch of snow felt like a choice being made, a door fast approaching, a step towards an abyss. You spoke without turning.

“I thought you’d come up here.”

Your words settled; a stone in a pool, ripples dancing out, brushing gently against his heart.

“I can leave if you want.” Jack said, hoping against all hope you would shake off the offer.

Your eyes turned to him, even brighter against the snow. You sighed, dusting off a patch of metal beside you and patting it firmly, “Lean with me.”

Jack only just managed to steady himself in his haste to join you, head nearly colliding with the steel as he ducked between the rails. For a moment you and him leant in breathless, anticipatory silence, looking out at the city that you had sweated and fought and cried for all night long.

It was you that first spoke into the void, “I’ve applied for the new Emergency Pedes Fellowship at PTMC, or have you forgotten that residents do have to find another job after the program ends?”

Jack’s eyes snapped to your face. He remembered Robby mentioning the opening position weeks and weeks ago, just in passing. But all the times you had mentioned your interest in Emergency Pedes medicine, every case you had jumped on to heal a little body, to calm a little mind, to soothe a little heart…he should have put the pieces together.

Without thinking he blurted, “You’ve been the only one ever any good with parents,” The internal wince at his messy attempt at soothing was immediate. Good with parents—what?

Your voice was small now, a tear soaked laugh just perceptible in it, “I didn’t want to tell you until I’d heard either way. I didn’t—” You did laugh now, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Jack turned out to the city, the biting January air far, far easier to face. What an utter fool he was.

“I’m sorry.” He said, shaking his head. You didn’t say a word, just let the wind blow right through the both of you.

Jack returned his gaze to you, letting his eyes have their fill. Taking in each and every line and crease and feature. His favourite face in the whole world.

“I’m sorry,” Your name so soft and reverent on his lips, “It was incredibly…asshole of me.”

Your face scrunched at the words, rallying against a growing desire to laugh, “It was asshole indeed.”

The smallest of smiles. Your proximity. Your endless well of warmth and hope and joy. It made him want to be brave.

“I don’t quite understand it yet, but I feel very strongly about you. You are the first and last person I think about everyday. Yours is the face I picture when its all too much. Your voice is what I hear when I’m afraid. Your laugh is what stills me, calms me.”

Your mouth parted, just a bit, eyes becoming endless, swallowing him whole.

“When I thought that you might leave, perhaps that you would go overseas again, I was struck with fear I haven’t felt in a long, long time.” He took a long, stuttering breath.

“I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You surrendered, moving towards him, hand outstretched.

“It’s not an excuse,” he said, the words coming like a released river now, an outpouring of everything gathering dust within him, “I was selfish and I shouldn’t have done that, it’s not fair—”

Your arms enveloped him, face burying deep into his neck, hands curling into his hair. Everything you had wanted to do from the very first moment your eyes found his. He melted into your embrace, strong arms banding around your body, face pressing into the softest skin between your collarbone and shoulder. You cried into his scrubs, your relief and disbelief and joy bleeding out onto him—this man who had just given you a gift you had never even hoped could be yours.

Jack mumbled into your skin, “Baby, my baby.”

You pulled back, just enough to send your lips flying across his skin, every last bit you could reach. He accepted them gladly, so malleable and giving in your hands. Finally, finally, you found his mouth, crashing home with delight. For one precious eternity you simply remained pressed together, as if somehow endosymbiosis will begin. When you released each other, there was shared breath to relish in, and the feeling of foreheads connected, hands twined together. Could it have possibly been winter? Spring had come to a hospital rooftop in Pittsburgh. Something entirely new had bloomed. Jack gently released you to capture your face in his hands, with one thumb he carefully smoothed the skin between your brows, banishing for now any hint of a crease. There was no confusion, no frustration, no fear here.

“Are you working tonight?” You asked, words too full of smile to really parse.

“No, I’m off for the weekend,” His lips were in your hair.

You kissed him again, more desperate this time, seeking something more. His hands drifted south, smoothing over your shoulders, finding your hips, the tips of his fingers just grazing your ass.

Heart beating wildly, hot skin on hot skin, you took a dive, “Have breakfast with me.”

~~~~~~~~

There is fluff and hope for them in the sunrise people! Thank you for reading, these two will be back very very soon xo

previous | next

[svmjaeyvn]

hidden love, l.hs

synopsis: there were two things that park jongseong reiterated to you growing up.

1: he was the better, funnier, smarter, awesomer sibling and always would be, and 2: you were to never, ever, fall for any guys like his friends, literally and figuratively.

the first was a lie, one you always rolled your eyes at and the second was something 12-year-old you always agreed to without hesitation. but with time, they soon both became a fib from your lips, 14-year-old you coming to the disastrous realization that boys weren't as icky as you once thought and your older brother's best friend had the prettiest smile (when he wasn't being annoying.) as you continued to grow older, those fluttering emotions grew as well, even with him heading off to university it seemed to leave you with a sense of longing, happier than ever when he'd visit.

until you were 16 and he came home with a girl, one that was far prettier than you were able to compete with in your head and nice enough to be a saint. your hopeless, devastating one-sided crush was forced to be swallowed without much pride, though it held no avail until you dramatically decided to never speak to heeseung again. and it worked, ignoring all his calls and texts, avoiding your family home like the plague whenever your brother was home for break if he was visiting, and simply acting entirely clueless in the unfortunate circumstances that you did end up caught by him, chalking it up to dramatic teenage hormones.

once you reached the age of it being your turn to head to college, you signed up for every exchange program possible, leaving you traveling the world for three years that passed with no contact and your once-upon-a-time crush nearly forgotten. that was until you came back home, finally settling to finish uni and all of a sudden you were a kid again, fawning over your brother's best friend who didn't know how to leave you alone. this time though, heeseung didn't see you as that annoying kid who followed jay around, he saw you for you which scared him so much more with how you've grown and nothing was worse than him feeling something for his best friend's off-limits little sister.

featuring: lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon, nishimura riki, kim sunoo, yang jungwon, hanni pham, kim chaweon, yoon keeho, yoon yechan

status: writing. start: 03/30/24. end: tba.

genre: non-idol!au, college/young adult!enha, heeseung x reader, slight age gap (4 years), brothers best friend trope

content & warnings: age gap??? (slightly questionable morality but no romantic feelings or grooming since they end up with no contact for years until adulthood), cursing, drinking, all that jazz, innuendos, sexual humor, suggestive content, possible smut, forbidden relationship, sneaking around, overprotective jay, jay tries to fight heeseung cause duh, crazy exs, stalker mention, slow burn since they're both in denial, heeseung kind of toxic mentality which is forced to be fix, angst but fluffy ending (?)

a/n: based off the cdrama. watched it months ago but shit had me giggling and kicking my feet even if it's cliche. heeseung is so forbbidden older love coded i had to. im trying to make this a oneshot so well see how long it is,,,,,,, the plot will develop from when they were kids to adulthood to provide some background. once the actual romance starts heeseung will be 24 and reader will be 20 (the year will be 2025). all my drafts and writing has been about jake so im branching out (i love my man tho so he'll have his moments here). anyway! lets see how long it takes me to finish up this one

word count: 6k (as of now)

taglist: closed! (86 of you have responded omg)

[formulaonecrumbs]

just wish i was older

Lando Norris x babysitter!reader

summary: lando has a crush on his babysitter.

warnings: age gap? not really tho. it’s 3 years. lando pining for a girl he can’t have.

A/N: idk if this is weird. cuz reading it back i think it might be 😭😭 did reader groom him? no but why does it feel it. i’m going crazy also a gif this time cause i have a thing for rookie lando :]

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

age 12 & 15

lando had crossed his arms and sat sulking on the living room couch like the world had personally offended him.

his hair was still a little messy from the argument with his mum earlier, and his tie—he’d refused to take it off—was hanging half-untied around his neck like a silent protest.

you smiled as you closed the front door behind you. “you look like a grumpy little businessman.”

lando glared at you. “i’m not little.”

“right,” you teased, dropping your bag on the floor. “you’re a very mature twelve-year-old who threw a tantrum because he didn’t want to go to a wedding.”

his cheeks flushed slightly. “i didn’t throw a tantrum.”

“you did,” you grinned, walking past him into the kitchen. “your mum told me. said you nearly cried when she made you put on the dress shoes.”

“they pinch,” he muttered, following you like a shadow.

you pulled open the fridge. “alright, rebel. what are we eating tonight?”

lando leaned on the counter, watching you. “can we have those frozen pizzas?”

“already trying to sweet-talk me into junk food, huh?” you raised an eyebrow. “what happened to please and thank you?”

he rolled his eyes dramatically. “pleeease.”

you tossed him a frozen pizza box. “get the oven started, mr. businessman.”

he smiled, and you caught the way his shoulders relaxed a little.

later that evening, after pizza and a movie he picked (some racing documentary, no surprise there), the two of you sat on the floor of the living room, surrounded by empty snack wrappers.

“you’re not like other babysitters,” lando said suddenly, his voice quiet.

you looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “yeah? how so?”

he shrugged, tugging at a loose thread in the carpet. “you talk to me like… normal. not like i’m a dumb kid.”

you softened. “you’re not a dumb kid, lando.”

he didn’t say anything for a second. then, almost too softly to hear, “i like it when you come over.”

you smiled. “i like it too. you’re good company, even when you’re being a grump.”

he smiled, just barely. “you’re nice.”

“so are you.”

he looked away quickly, cheeks pink again.

by the time his parents got home, lando was half-asleep on the couch, his head tipped against your shoulder.

you’d left the lights low and the tv still playing quietly in the background, the empty pizza box folded neatly on the table.

his mum smiled when she walked in. “looks like he survived without us.”

you nodded, brushing his curls back gently from his face. “barely.”

lando blinked sleepily, mumbling something about not being tired, but he didn’t move from your side.

and as you got up to leave, promising to see him again soon, he looked up at you with those tired eyes and whispered, “you’ll still come even when i’m older, right?”

you smiled, ruffling his hair. “if you want me to.”

he nodded once, like that answer settled something big in his heart.

and long after you were gone, he stayed sitting on the couch, tie still loose, wondering how long it’d take to be old enough for someone like you to really notice him.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

age 15 & 18

lando hadn’t needed a babysitter in over a year.

or so he said.

but when his parents had to go out last-minute and asked you to drop by—“just in case, he won’t admit he wants the company, but you know how he is”—you’d agreed without hesitation.

he opened the door like he hadn’t been pacing behind it for the past ten minutes.

“you didn’t have to come,” he said, voice deeper now, posture more guarded. “i’m not twelve.”

“good thing,” you said, stepping inside with a smile. “because you were so annoying at twelve.”

he cracked a smile despite himself. “rude.”

you looked around the house. it was cleaner than usual. like maybe he’d tried to make it look like he had it together. “so what’s the plan? you gonna ignore me the whole time, pretend i’m not here?”

“nah,” he shrugged. “you can stay if you want.”

“lucky me.”

you ended up sitting in the kitchen while he made tea—something he insisted on doing himself, like he had something to prove.

“you’re in uni now, right?” he asked, carefully pouring boiling water into mugs. “like properly moved out and everything?”

“yeah,” you nodded. “first year.”

“right.” he paused, fiddling with the teabag. “bet that’s nice.”

you tilted your head. “what is?”

“being around people your age,” he muttered. “grown-ups.”

you blinked. “you say that like you’re ancient.”

he didn’t laugh. just looked at you, eyes a little more serious than usual. “you used to treat me like a kid.”

“you were a kid.”

“and now?”

you held his gaze for a second before giving a small smile. “still kinda a kid.”

he looked away, jaw tightening. “figured.”

later, while a show played quietly in the background, he sat on the other end of the couch, leg bouncing, fingers tapping against his knee.

you glanced over. “lando?”

he didn’t look at you. “do you ever think about how weird it is that i’ve known you half my life?”

“not weird,” you said gently. “just… kind of sweet.”

he scoffed, but it didn’t sound mean. “you used to tie my shoes. now you’re off dating guys with cars and jobs and… real lives.”

“you jealous?”

he looked at you then. properly. “you know i am.”

the silence stretched, soft and full of something unspoken.

you reached over, nudging his arm. “i promise i’m not going to disappear, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

his expression cracked for a second—just long enough to see the boy underneath, the one who used to cling to you like a shadow.

“i’m not,” he muttered. “just wish i was older.”

you smiled, eyes kind. “one day, you will be. and you’re gonna be someone really great.”

he didn’t answer. just nodded, lips pressed into a thin line, fighting a war between wanting to be grown and knowing he’s still got time to go.

and when he walked you to the door that night—holding it open like a gentleman, pretending not to watch you as you left—he didn’t say goodbye.

just: “thanks for coming.”

and in his chest, a soft ache that had nothing to do with being young…

and everything to do with how much he wished he wasn’t.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

age 16 & 19

you weren’t supposed to be back.

you were home from uni for a weekend, barely enough time to breathe—let alone babysit—but when mrs. norris called in a panic asking if you could check in on lando “just for a couple hours while we’re out”, you didn’t even think twice.

you hadn’t seen him in nearly a year.

he opened the door and for a second, you didn’t recognize him.

he was a little taller now. voice deeper. shoulders broader.

but the look in his eyes—that familiar flash of something warm and too intense—was exactly the same.

“…hey,” he said, voice unsure.

“hey,” you echoed, stepping inside. “you got… taller.”

he smirked. “you got older.”

you rolled your eyes. “rude.”

you sat in the living room, both pretending this wasn’t weird.

“you’ve barely texted me this year,” he said suddenly, not looking at you.

“you stopped texting first,” you replied gently.

he went quiet.

“thought maybe you didn’t want to talk to me anymore,” you added, softer now.

“i did.” he leaned back into the couch. “i just… figured you were busy. with adult stuff.”

you smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “doesn’t mean i forgot about you.”

his jaw clenched. “well, i didn’t forget you either.”

he made tea again. of course he did. but this time, he brought it to you like it was a date.

he sat across from you, legs bouncing, hoodie sleeves pushed up.

“you still dating that guy?” he asked, voice low.

you shook your head. “not anymore.”

he looked up fast, too fast. “…oh.”

“why?”

you shrugged. “wasn’t right.”

he paused, chewing on his lip like he wanted to say something—something big, something too much—but instead, he just said, “he was lucky.”

you blinked. “lando…”

“i know,” he said quickly, like he could read your mind. “i know it doesn’t mean anything. just… let me say it, alright?”

you nodded.

“i like you,” he said. “i’ve liked you. for a long time.”

you stayed quiet.

“i know you’re older. i know nothing can happen. but you were the first person who really saw me. who didn’t treat me like a dumb kid.”

you swallowed. “you’re not a kid anymore.”

he laughed, but there was no humor in it. “still feels like i am to you.”

“lando—”

“it’s okay,” he said, getting up. “you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted you to know. in case… i don’t know. in case you ever wondered.”

you watched him as he walked into the kitchen, shoulders tense, trying to be calm when his heart was beating out of his chest.

and you sat there, staring into your tea, knowing he was right.

it wasn’t the time.

it never could be.

THE END :>

[saturnxlust]

Age Gap

Van der linde gang x Fem!Reader

Dutch Van Der Linde

He def goes for younger girls

He looks like the type

You caught his eye with your outfits

Hes 44 but i feel like he wouldnt want a age gap over 10 years

If you got the courage to make the first move he would admire that about you

Definitely sweet talks you about being a smart girl

Lord the amount of praise this son of a bitch would give you could boost even arthur ego

Def a sugar daddy, before the events of black water

After he would try his best but he left most of his money behind in his old house

Arthur Morgan

He isnt that old but he def wouldnt go over 5 years

He finds it odd and repects his women too much

This is the man to go to if you want a sugar daddy

He will gladly spoil you with all the money he loots from dead O’driscols

He also gives out praise but thats just the man he is

If hes not complimenting you and how stunning you are 24/7 he feels like a awful person

He would so totally call you his “sweet baby” or “babydoll”

If you wear pink dresses he’d definitely be wrapped around your little finger

If not and your more of a streatwear person he’d loose his mind at low rise or cami tops

Again you’d have him wrapped around your finger immediately

John Marston

Hes definitely not old and would NOT go under 4 years😭

This guys only 26

Hes not a sugar daddy

Sorry babe

But he thinks your cute

He def likes girls with a attitude

Just look at abigal for christs sake

He was married to her😭

He would try to be good for you

Wanting to take you and run off into the sunset, but he couldnt leave dutch like that

Not after everything dutch had done for him

You would have to get along with jack to even be on johns radar (sorry🥲)

He wants you as soon as your motherly to jack

He talks to arthur about you

He calls you “sweet girl” and “doll” in that gravily voice

Hes incredible, really

Hosea Matthews

Okay well hes old😅

Def a sugar daddy

I mean have you seen him?

He goes for at least 10-12 years younger 😍

After bessie he really didnt think he’d fall in love again but when you came in twirling you hair and giggling he’d be a teenager all over again

You could ask him to shoot the man next to him for no reason and he’d do it

Hes quite literally wrapped around your finger

I say that because he would not leave you alone

Constantly holding you and treating you to gifts and fancy things

He once bought you a diamond necklace in saint denis

Whether you protested or not is up to you

He doesnt let you out of his sight and will not stop rambling to dutch about you

Dutch is too tired and crazy to deal with hosea and sends him your way to obsess over you😊

Sean MacGuire

The belief is hes mid 20’s so im gonna say 25

He definitely is like john and goes for 3 years younger

But i see him as the type to like older women cough cough mary cough

He likes the contrast of him being a stupid asshole and you being a sweet little thing

He trys his best with money but like john has very little so if he buys you something its usually something small

Though he never really feels accomplished after he gets you something small

So he saves for a long time and buys you something a little bigger like a silver necklace or a nice bracelet

His accent gets in the way of things sometimes but he will call you “sweet thing” though it sounds more like “sweet ting”😭

Love him though

Javier Escuella

Another baby of the gang🫶🫶

Hes 26 so he goes for the same range as john

He also doesnt have much money and buys you small things

But he makes it up by calling you endearing nick names

“Mi amor” “dulce nina” “Querida”

You get the point

“Ojalá pudiera comprarte más mi amor pero debes saber que esto es de mi corazón”

I love him sm

He would sugar daddy you if he could

Probably gets upset when he cant buy you things

If your family is rich he refuses your offers of giving him money

It doesnt feel right to have a sweet girl like you give him money when he should be the one providing

It gets him upset to see you want something he knows he cant afford

Has lowkey thought about robbing a very rich man cough cough braithwates cough to buy you things

When on the boat if you go with them he keeps an eye on you

Not liking the scene already, older predatory men being all around you made him extremely uncomfortable

He doesnt want to tell you what to do he always wants it to be your choice but it scares him that he cant really do anything to protect you

Though if it was dire enough he woukd throw the whole plan down the drain to cut open a older guy that got too power hungry and grabbed you

“No te lastimó, ¿verdad, querida?.”

Charles Smith

Hes not as young but doesnt go for under 5 years

Hes got some money to buy small things every now and again

He calls you “baby” and “little girl” alot no matter the age gap

It could only be a few months and he still would💔

He shows you how to hunt and stuff as bonding

He sees killing a deer together and bringing it back to pearson as romantic

But he still takes you on dates

When he can

Hes usually on watch duty as he is literally a unit of a man

This kid is huge

Around 6’6 and 240 pounds

Dwarfs even the biggest of guys, yes even arthur😭

Josiah Trelawny

Trelawny the man you are😍

Hes definitely rich

He has a house with his wife in saint denis

He is quite old so I imagine no more then 10 years difference

He calls you “darling” and “sweet girl” in that trans Atlantic accent

He definitely spoils you rotten

Only the best for his sweet girl

He takes a lot of time to take care of you as well

He doesnt spend time with the gang and only pops up when they need him for things like stealing from rich people

He never lets you pay

Are you kidding

He’d rather die then have you pay for something

Thats a little dramatic but i know he would never feel good about himself ever again if he got to a point where you had to pay

Like what do you mean he doesnt have enough money

No no darling put yours away papa trelawny will have a sweet little chat with the man trying to embarrass him infront of his woman

“YES I HAVE ENOUGH MONEY ARE YOU INSANE, no dear its okay you dont need to pay. BACK TO YOU DONT YOU EVER-“

Obviously there are ones i didnt put in here like micah, pearson, uncle, lenny ect. I dont know enough about them nor do i like most of them (except for lenny i love him sm)

[broad-shouldrs]

Hold On To Me || Chapter 1

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~1,240

summary: you weren’t supposed to be here—stuck at a summer camp your dad signed you up for. but joel’s here too: your neighbor, your boss, a single dad, frustratingly competent and infuriatingly attractive.

you shouldn’t want him. he definitely shouldn’t want you.

warnings: dbf! Joel (but he didn't know you as a kid). age gap. au!no outbreak. pining. slow burn. eventual smut.

a/n: this is my first time posting fic on tumblr/a03, so please bear with me as i venture out into this scary ass world.

chapters 1-5 are currently posted on a03

You were 21, in your junior year of college, when your dad decided that Dallas was too much — too expensive, too crowded, filled with too many memories. He sold the house, packed up, and bought a fixer-upper just outside of Austin. Your dad was convinced that it had good bones.

“Ain’t nothin’ I can’t fix.” You’d heard your dad say more than once and from the updates he sent it seemed like maybe he was right.

Dad: Carpets comin’ out today. Fingers crossed for hardwood. 

Dad: Kitchen wall was a bitch to take out. Nothin’ your old man can’t handle. White for the cabinets? 

Dad : Guy ‘cross the street saw me up on the roof. Probably thought I was crazy ‘cause I was yellin’ at the gutters. 

Dad : Name's Joel. Doesn't think I’m crazy. Got a nice kid.

Dad: Me & Joel went to Home Depot today to finish up the back deck. All those holes? Gone. 

Dad : We're gettin' a pool, kid. Joel knows a guy who can fix’er up. Does this mean you’re coming home for the summer? 

Dad : Can’t wait to see you. Finished settin’ up your room yesterday. 

Dad : Painted the front door red. Can’t miss it. Drive safe. T-minus 12 hours. 

You double-check that last text as you signal a right turn and make your way down the street. Taking a look around what seems to be your new neighborhood, you slow to a reasonable speed, checking the numbers on the surrounding houses. A group of middle-school aged kids pedal their bikes past you, full of laughter and smiles. The boys are attempting to show off and pop wheelies and the girls seem to be unenthused, in their own little world. How simple life had been. 

As you continue, you watch as one of the girls starts to gain speed, kicking the pedals as fast as she can before pulling up on the handlebars. She gains just a second of air before losing her balance and tumbling off her bike. You step on the brakes with a light screech, grateful that your dad had the sense to change your rotors last time he had seen you.The other kids have moved to the sidewalk now, none too worried about the girl’s fall.

You can't help but feel bad for the girl and you call out the window. “You alright?”

She looks up at you, wary of the unfamiliar voice as she rubs at her brow. “M’fine. Not really supposed to talk to strangers.” Blood starts to trickle down her face, causing her to wince. “Shit.”

“I live just up the road. Can I lend a hand gettin' you back home?”

It’s clear she doesn’t believe you. She wipes her gravel ridden hands off on her denim shorts and pulls herself up. “I know pretty much everyone around here. Never seen you.”

Her parents should be proud. You get it, of course, your dad taught you about stranger danger. But, you’re a little too worried about that cut on her forehead.

“My dad moved in while I was at school. Listen, that looks like it might need stitches.”

She rolls her eyes at you and picks up her bike by the handlebars. "You sound like my dad." She wobbles for a moment and you suck in a nervous breath.

"What'd you say your name was?"

You tell her your dad’s name and you notice her demeanor shift. She visibly perks up, her eyes a little less cautious and the corners of her lips turning into a smile. “You don’t look like the photos he has up.”

You can’t help but laugh. Typical dad move. You’re almost positive that he hasn’t updated a single picture frame in ten years.

“I’m Sarah.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your dad isn’t even home. His truck is missing from the driveway and since you don’t yet have a key, Sarah waves you over to her house.

She’s dropped her bike on her front lawn when you walk over and you can’t help but grimace at her injury.

“We should probably clean that off. Looks bad.” 

As you step onto the porch, the front door swings open revealing what you can only assume to be Sarah's dad. Your father's new best friend. Joel.

He’s older than you expected — late forties, maybe — but it suits him. Broad-shouldered and sun-warmed, with lines etched deep into his face from years of squinting into the sun, and hands that look like they’ve spent a lifetime building, fixing, carrying. He moves with a kind of quiet steadiness, like nothing rattles him, like the ground’s always solid beneath his feet.

The attraction is instant. Inconvenient. And impossible to ignore.

“What the hell happened?”

“She fell,” you start, swallowing to rid yourself of how dry your mouth has become. “On her bike. Cut her eyebrow pretty bad.”

Joel moves past you without acknowledgment, crouching in front of Sarah and tilting her chin towards the light.

“Jesus, kid. That’s gonna need stitches.”

Sarah groans. “It’s not that bad.”

"You say that every time,” Joel mutters, shaking his head. “Get inside. Bathroom.”

Sarah turns away and waves at you before trudging inside without argument.

Joel fixes his eyes on you — sharp, assessing, with something unreadable flickering behind them. It knocks the breath out of you a little. “You live ‘round here?”

The stern tone of his voice is hot. There’s no way around it. The way his brow furrows, the way he crosses his arms like he’s already decided you’re someone to keep an eye on—it shouldn’t work, but it does. The entire protective father thing looks good on him. Too good.

You don’t trust your voice not to falter, not with the way your heart is thudding, not with the way he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to figure you out. So you just gesture toward your house, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat rising in your cheeks.

Joel blinks once. “Wait. Your dad?”

You nod, trying to keep your face neutral, even as something flickers in his expression — surprise or the fast math of realizing you're not just some college kid passing through, but the daughter of the man he's been helping with renovations for the past few months.

He runs a hand over his jaw, gaze flicking toward your front door, then back to you.  “Huh.”

That’s all he says. Just huh. But it lands heavy, like he’s recalibrating. Like maybe this changes things. You’re not sure whether that’s a good thing or not, but it makes your pulse skip all the same.

Joel shakes his head as if he's resetting his impression of you. “Guess I was off by a few years.”

His eyes turn back to you, caught a little off guard. He hadn’t really looked at you like that — not until now. He rubbed the back of his neck, like he didn’t know if he should apologize or just keep going.

“No, I just—" He hesitated, eyes narrowing again as if he were still piecing it all together. “I thought you were just some kid.”

“Just some kid, huh?”

Joel cleared his throat. “Your dad never mentioned you were—“ He cut himself off but his gaze lingered and his jaw tightened.

After a beat he finally spoke. “Well, I ‘preciate you bringin' Sarah home.” He shifted, one hand on the door frame. “F'you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

As you walked back to your car, you couldn’t shake the interaction. Your heart was pounding in a way that felt completely ridiculous. You had just met the guy, but something about the way he looked at you made your skin flush, settling somewhere low, warm, and distracting.

[earth-and-fire-just-make-lava]

Katara stormed into the room.

“I can’t believe this! After everything. I’ve tried being nice! I’ve tried being honest! But he just won’t give it up! Zuko, Aang is driving me crazy! I mean, he’s 12. But also 112 and either way that age gap is way too weird! He won’t take no for an answer. I need a boyfriend!… Be my boyfriend!” She flings her hands into the air. And then slams them down onto the table.

“That sounded less crazy in my head.” She laughs a bit. Going pink.

@get-over-here-zuko

"Katara! Just in time! The entire royal court is hounding me to find someone to marry! On and on about the royal line of succession, and I'm just managing to fix what my ancestors broke the last 100 years! I don't have time for dating! Be my girlfriend!" He says at the same time before realizing he hadn't been listening and they'd been speaking over each other before demanding the same thing. "I, uh, sorry, that sounded less forceful in my head too... It sounds like we both need a cover to get people off our backs while we deal with our own things... hey, maybe while we're at it, you could help me fix things? You're a lot better at taking charge than I am," he pours some jasmine tea he'd let get cold while he was stressing and warms it up with his fire bending. "Tea?" He offers awkwardly

[miniwheat77]

Brat. (dbf!Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), using worms as bait, age gap, (sorry if I missed any)

Your body feels warm, the hot sun beating down on you as you swam with one of your friends in her swimming pool. You had one as well but her parents weren't as strict as yours so you spent most of your time there.

You had just turned 18 but since you still lived with them for the time being you had no other choice but to follow their rules. You still had a curfew, had to tell them when and where you were going and what time you would be home. They still had to approve of it of course. Although they rarely ever told you no anymore since you were 18.

Your dad sat at an old wooden bar in and old dive bar him and his best friend, John Price liked to hang out in. They've been neighbors for years and years and it's essentially how their friendship started. They spent every holiday, game day, barbecue, and family get together with each other since then. They got along well, never fought. John was invited to everything and since he didn't have a family of his own it wasn't too hard for him to show. He wasn't married, had no kids, and lived too far away from his parents and siblings to plan the flights. He also didn't know when he'd be deployed but since he took on a job on the base and was only backup for missions, he was always home. Usually worked a 9-5 on the base. It was out of the ordinary for him and apart of him felt useless but it paid the bills. He was still there if they needed him anyways.

You dad was tipping the whiskey back like it was water which only meant one thing. Something was stressing him out.

John smiles after drinking some of his own bourbon. "Something going on mate?" He asks your dad. "Ah yeah. Y/N has been driving me crazy lately." He groans. "Me and her mom." He laughs. John tilts his head in confusion. "What's been going on?" He asks. "If you don't mind me asking of course."

"To be honest? I don't know. She's just been a real grouch lately. Has an attitude, doesn't listen, complains all the time. We've given her much more freedom since she turned 18 so I'm not sure where it's coming from." He shrugs. John nods his head. He's still listening. "I mean.. we convinced her to go to the doctor to get a few scans and blood work done, thinking maybe it was hormone imbalance or a mood disorder but those all came back fine and seemed to piss her off even more to be honest." He shrugs. "She got something going on in her personal life? Maybe she's fighting with a friend or boyfriend?" John asks. Your dad shakes his head. "She hates guys her age. Hates pretty much everyone she isn't close with anyways. She always said she won't date until she's older after her first boyfriend but I mean. She was like 12 so it was stupid anyways. She's only got a couple close friends and that's where she is right now. I don't know what it is." He tips back another shot of whiskey.

"Must just be moody. Maybe you guys should come out to the lake with me this weekend. I’m taking the boat out.” He shrugs. “Yeah that sounds good.” Your dad smiles. “Maybe getting out of the house will help her out.” He shrugs.

“I don’t know, I just know she’s in my damn nerves.” He laughs. Once they finish up their drinks, they part ways. Driving down the same roads to get home since they were neighbors. They’d usually carpool together but they’d met after work. When your dad arrives home, you’re home already. Watching a show on the couch. He closes the door behind him as he steps inside, smiling when he sees you. “Hey. John invited us out to go fishin this weekend. I said we’d go.” He smiles. “Do I have to?” You mumble. “Yes.” A grumble leaves your lips. “I’m not sure what the attitude is but it better quit young lady.” You roll your eyes, going upstairs to your room. Throwing yourself back on your bed with a groan.

—

John smiles at your dad, he’s sitting up at the front of the boat. You’re laying on your stomach, bikini leaving little to the eyes, you’ve got a pair of sunglasses on and you haven’t spoken much the entire trip. “John, you mind letting me off at the doc? I’m gonna go get another case of beer.” He nods his head, starting up the boat and making his way to shore. He lets your dad off, letting him know he’s going to go back out with you and to let him know when to come get him. When he’s back out on the lake and the anchor is down, he flips his hat around. Scooping up some water with his hand and flicking it all over you. He draws a gasp from your lips and you turn around, “John what the hell!” You gasp. Wiping the water down. “Cmon kid. You’re driving your poor ol’ man nuts. What’s with the attitude?” He crosses his arms, lazy smile playing at his lips. “I don’t have an attitude. Why does everyone keep saying that?” You roll your eyes. “Oh come on. The eye rolling, talking back, ignoring people when they talk to you. Being a real brat little lady.” He teases. You grumble, laying back down. “Nope. Cmon. You’re gonna try fishing. You’ll have fun.” He picks up a fishing pole. “We’re using worms. I mean.. you can use power bait but the stocked fished are smaller than natural spawn fish. It’s up to you.” He shrugs, holding out the styrofoam container that has the worms in it. You sigh, taking it from him. “You want me to show you how to put a worm on?” He asks. “Yeah sure.” You mumble. “Alright, here. You basically just thread it through the top.” You watch him hook the worm and thread it on, watching as it squirms. You take the pole from him, casting it out into the water and waiting.

Pretty soon, there’s a boat full of younger guys creeping up near you. They cat call you, yelling out obscenities at you. You ignore them, rolling your eyes. John is a little amused because he knows what your dad has said about guys your age and how you hate dating. They leave just as quickly as they come. “Can we just home? This is boring.” You roll your eyes. “No, not until we catch some fish.” He laughs.

This is where he starts to see it.

When you think he’s not paying attention, you’re adjusting yourself. Sliding awkwardly on the seat, rubbing up against your fishing pole for any sort of friction. Acting more and more bratty as the time ticks on. It’s amusing to John really, to see just how frustrated you are. “Where is my dad? He’s been gone a long time.” John shrugs. He pulls out his phone. He notices a text from your dad, seeing that he’s received a text from him a few minutes before.

You mind giving Y/N a lift home? Her mom texted me and said she took a bad fall at work and is in the ER.

Yeah no problem at all, see you later mate.

“He said your mum fell at work so he’s going to go see if she’s okay. It’s just me and you kid.” John sits down. “So we can go home now?” You ask. “No.” He laughs. You mutter something under your breath. He laughs. Your fishing pole bobbing startles you and John perks up. "You got a fish!" You set the hook, yanking the fishing pole and starting to reel it in. The fish puts up a pretty good fight and when you reel it closer to the boat, John scoops it up with the fishing net for you. Helping you get it off the hook. "Look at that darling." He smiles as you pick it up. "Good girl, see? This is fun." He smiles. His statement takes you off guard, cheeks heating up. "Uh.. Yeah. Whatever." You shut down quickly. He thinks it's odd at first. Once you've thrown the fish back into the water, he sits down across from you at the front of the boat.

He looks around, making sure no one else is around. “Look. I know what’s going on.” He smiles. “Yeah? And what’s that?” You look at him. “Well.. I’m putting two and two together here. The attitude, the never wanting to go out.” He smirks. You look up at him. “I mean.. you’ve been grinding up against your fishing pole since I gave it to you. Rubbing your thighs together when that boat full of guys came by.” Your lips part slightly, cheeks going red. "And when I called you a good girl." He chuckles, seeing how you start to squirm from his watchful eyes on you. “Do you not know how to make yourself cum sweetheart?” He laughs. "T-that's inappropriate John." You look away from his gaze, thankful your sunglasses help conceal your embarrassment. He laughs. "Oh come on, what your dad doesn't know won't hurt him, besides. You've been on his nerves lately and if I help you out, maybe he won't be so stressed out. So talk to me." He smiles. You stay quiet and he moves across the boat, sitting right next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "You can talk to me darling. I can help you." Your heart rate picks up, it's racing in your chest. "I.. I don't know what you want me to say." You breathe. You're one step away from panting at his close proximity. The only thing you can think about are his hands on you. "Have you ever had sex before?" He asks. You shake your head. "Have you.. done anything at all?" You shake your head again. "I've tried to it myself but it makes it worse." You look down at your hands nervously playing with them.

He smiles. Right now, John is thankful there is a room below on his boat. "I can show you." He rests his hand on your thigh, feeling you stiffen up under his touch. "O-okay." You breathe. "Come on." He grasps your hand. There aren't many boats left on the water, it's getting late in the day and everyone is going home thankfully, you might get a little loud. He pulls you down the small set of stairs into the cabin of the boat. It's really small. He makes sure to wash his hands before he touches you, having you do the same.

There's a small bed and a table and chairs and that's it. "Lay on your back." You swallow hard, getting up onto the bed. His deep voice has your clit throbbing at the attention it knows it's about to get. You're sure you've soaked through your panties. He leans onto the bed, helping you remove your bathing suit. When your bottom half is exposed to him, he wants to drool. "God you're beautiful." He groans. He glides his hands down your exposed thighs, causing chills to rise on your skin. You're panting now, small gasps leaving your lips. "Relax." He chuckles. "I'm going to help you, try to calm down sweetheart. You're too eager." He runs his fingertips over your skin, his touch is searing, it burns your skin as his fingers move across you. You want his hands on you. You want them inside of you. He takes a deep breath of his own, trying to ignore the way his cock throbs against his cargo shorts. "Start slow. Little circles on your clit." He reaches forward. "Like this." He breathes. He uses his thumb, rubbing circles over you. Your lips part slightly, a whimper leaving your lips. It’s different when he’s touching you. You can feel your lower stomach swirling, something is building already. “You try.” He draws his hand away. Resting your hand over your mound, rubbing circles over your clit just as he said. The sensation is gone just as fast as it came, causing you to whimper out at the loss, your touch feels like nothing. You draw your hand away. “This isn’t going to work John, it doesn’t work.” You blush.

You try to sit up but he pushes you back. “Have you ever cum before?” He asks. You shake your head. “Oh darling.. no wonder you’re so bratty.” He smiles. “All of that sexual tension and no way to release it. Poor thing.” He’s teasing you, but at the same time actually feels really bad. He knows it’s harder for you to cum. “Stop it John.” You try to push him off, tears gathering in your eyes from frustration. “I’m just teasing darling, let me help you.” He moves himself up further, grasping your thighs and pulling you down on the bed further, you let your head rest back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. The boat rocks back and fourth over the water. You’re nervous. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you. He moves himself between your legs, and you don’t understand what's going on until you feel something warm and wet against your entrance. You lift your head up, jumping at the sensation. “Oh f-fuck!” You gasp. He glances up at you. He’s still got his hat on, but he’s flipped it backward by now. Giving himself room to devour you. He moans into your opening, you taste sweet. You’re breathing hard, clutching at the sheets as he flicks his tongue over your clit. He starts slow, letting your sensitive nub get used to the sensation of his tongue, not wanting to overwhelm you. You clutch at the sheets, melting further and further into him as he laps at your entrance with his tongue. It's clear that he's had a fair share of experience. You feel something building in your stomach and you know you're about to cum.

You're getting louder and louder, crying out his name and he's never imagined himself in such a position.

This is just to help her dad, so that he isn't so stressed out.

That's all.

John rocks his hips into the bed, cock hard and throbbing against his shorts. Begging for some kind of friction. He imagines your pretty lips around his cock, maybe your pretty eyes looking up at him as you take him further down your throat. He groans into you earning another moan from your lips. When you're wet enough from his spit and your arousal, he slides a couple of his fingers into you. Feeling you tense up around him, all of the air leaving your lungs, you've never had anything inside before and he can't help but smile into you.

He sucks against your clit, swirling his tongue around it, you're squirming, struggling to stay still beneath him, even his grip on you doesn't keep you completely still. He sucks your clit into his mouth one more time, lapping his tongue over you, his fingers curling into the sweet spot inside of you and you lose it, lips parting as moans leave your lips. A mewl leave your lips and you squirm out of his grasp as he desperately laps up your arousal from your orgasm. You push him away, closing your legs. You're looking at him with a look of pure shock, panting, a little sweaty. The look you're giving him it's unsettling how fucked out you look. He wipes his lips of you, looking up at you. "Do you feel better?" He laughs. You nod your head. "Good. Try to relax." He smiles. "Still got about an hour of light left, let's make it worth while and try to catch some fish yeah?" He smiles, standing up. When he's out of your line of sight, he sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. Groaning at himself.

What has he just gotten himself into?

[youremyheaven]

Random Vedic Astrology Observations

Adele who is Ardra Rising and Lana Del Rey who is Ardra Sun both have a Paradise tattoo on the side of their hand

This is very interesting symbolism because Ardra nakshatra is preceded by Mrigashira nak which follows the fall from Paradise.

2. Pisces natives 🤝🏼 sculptures

L to R

Rihanna- Revati Stellium (including Moon & Rising)

Ava Gardner- Ketu in (1 degree Pisces) Purvabhadrapada

Bella Hadid- Ketu in UBP

Rosie Huntington Whiteley- UBP Mercury & Rahu, Mars in Purvabhadrapada (0 degrees Pisces) and Jupiter in Revati atmakaraka

Jin- UBP Moon

Isabelle Adjani- Revati Rising

Salma Hayek- UBP Moon

3. Jyeshtas really love jewellery

Vidya Balan- Mercury in Jyeshta (atmakaraka)

Rekha- Jyeshta Rising

Kim Kardashian- Jyeshta Rising

Nicki Minaj- Jyeshta Sun

4. I'd earlier made an observation about how Mars influenced men tend to go after older women and I thought I'd add a few more examples to that list!!

Sachin Tendulkar & Anjali Tendulkar have an age gap of 6 years and their wedding was hugely controversial when it took place in the 90s. Sachin was only 22 when he got married.

Sachin has Mars in Dhanishta atmakaraka and Moon in Purvashada amatyakaraka

Shikhar Dhawan and his ex-wife Ayesha Mukerji have an age gap of 10 years.

Shikhar is Dhanishta Rising, Mars in Chitra atmakaraka with Purvaphalguni Moon

Arjun Kapoor and Malaika Arora have an age gap of 12 years

He is most likely Chitra Rising

He also has Venus (amatyakaraka) conjunct Rahu in Bharani

I know that Bharani is Venus ruled but Bharani is the confluence of Mars & Venus energies and is ruled by the Mars ruled Aries and is another nakshatra that commonly appears in the charts of men drawn to older women

Aditya Pancholi is 6 years younger than his wife Zarina Wahab

He has Sun in Purva Ashadha, Venus amatyakaraka (in Jyeshta) Jupiter in Bharani and Rahu in Mrigashira

Karan Singh Grover is 6 years younger than Bipasha Basu

He has Moon in Dhanishta, Mars (amatyakaraka) conjunct Saturn (atmakaraka) in Chitra with Ketu in Purva Ashada

Vicky Kaushal is 5 years younger than Katrina Kaif

He has Venus in Mrigashira, Mars in Dhanishta, Jupiter (amatyakaraka) in Bharani, Ketu in Purva phalguni

Farhan Akhtar and his first wife, Adhuna Akhtar have an age gap of 7 years.

Farhan has Sun (atmakaraka) conjunct Mercury (amatyakaraka) in Purva Ashada and Saturn conjunct Ketu in Mrigashira

5.

idk if im crazy but i think these 2 women have similar features 😭😭

Zhou Xun is Chitra Sun, Anuradha Moon, Swati Mercury, Chitra Venus & Mars

Ning Ning is Chitra Sun, Bharani Moon, Swati Venus and Ketu in Anuradha

6. Rihanna has a tattoo of Goddess Isis on her chest

Rihanna is Revati Moon and Goddess Isis had powers like love, healing, fertility, protection, wisdom and magic. By virtue of her magical knowledge, she was said to be "more clever than a million gods". Revati nakshatra natives are endowed with divine spiritual wisdom and the deity of Revati, Pushan is the Sun-god in the form of Divine Guide and Nourisher, who helps us to find the right path and leads us to the right solutions.

Revati represents wisdom, empathy, unconditional love, fertility, growth, prosperity & spirituality.

7. Harry Houdini was a Hungarian-American escape artist, illusionist, and stunt performer, noted for his escape acts.

He has UBP Sun, Mrigashira Moon, Venus in Revati (exalted) and Ketu in Swati with Shravana Rising

Swati is connected to Maya or illusion so it makes sense as to why someone who has Ketu placed there would become notorious for hoodwinking the public.

Mrigashira nakshatra involves HEAVY themes of running away, escape and being trapped AND finding a way out. If you look at the mythology, its about Brahma's favourite daughter who takes the form of a deer to leave the heavens and run away to the earth to escape her father's sexual advances towards her.

Pisces rashi is almost always present in the charts of magicians or people who have some kind of illusory appeal on the public. Most mega successful celebrities have prominent Pisces placements, most supremely talented actors and singers do. The ability to put yourself out there yet remain completely mysterious and keep people under a veil is a uniquely Piscean trait.

Obviously with that Shravana Asc, he was basically born for this job. Moon dominant people are ADEPT at manipulation and making black seem like white or vice versa.

Dua Lipa recently released a song titled Houdini and she's Punarvasu Moon which I think is another nakshatra that is good at casting illusions.

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 23. homewrecker

chapter tags/warnings: naoya has sex with toji’s older ex-wife. misogynistic! naoya. age gap. exhibitionism. creampies. masturbation. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. plain manipulation. corruption. 

word count: 3.8k

notes: a longer chapter, but i had became so enraptured in the writing process hence the quick turnaround! given the thanksgiving weekend in the united states, i want to thank all my readers for being so invested my story! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Naoya Zenin had no qualms in calling himself the Master of the Universe.

He had everything he wanted in this world.

Money? Check. Power? Check. Fame? Also check.

Mind you, Naoya had to work hard to get into this position too. He didn’t just sit around on the couch all day waiting for opportunities to come flying his way. He had to be proactive. He had some tough decisions to make. Like how he had to choose between spending the weekend on a golf course or a ski resort. Or if he should pull up to the next board meeting with a Patek Phillipe or a Rolex. Nothing in his sad and poor life came easy when he only grew up as a spare heir, always living in the shadow of his once almighty cousin.

Which was why nothing could fuel his ego more than watching Toji's ex-wife ride his dick like this was some fucking rodeo.

"Naoya, baby," Mari whined, flushed as she ground down hard on his cock, her pussy squeezing him to the point his sight became spotted with stars. "I'm so close."

“Yeah?" Naoya managed to croak. His voice was hoarse; he longer recognized himself. He could only feel how his cock was splitting his mistress open, and with one long groan, he sank his face into her fat tits that were like clouds against his skin, his heavy balls slapping against her ass cheeks with each thrust up. "Gonna make a mess over my cock?”

She nodded confidently. “Mhm…We’re going to leave the sheets covered with cum.”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Sighing, the woman leaned forward with her palm holding the headboard’s edge for dear life while the other groped her own breast to keep her bosom from moving wildly.

“Don’t stop,” she mewled.

But shit, Naoya knew he was going crazy at this fantastically sexy sight. With this goddess before him, his mind and body wanted to go all in. No holds barred. He wanted nothing but to stuff this celestial being full of his cum, making sure her cunt would be aching when she woke up. 

The Zenin CEO moaned at his lewd ideas, the mattress beneath them rocking back and forth from their combined forceful movements. Damn, he knew he should've booked a hotel room at the Ritz Carlton rather than at some InterContinental, where he knew (from experience) that the beds were sturdier and wouldn't be such an annoying mid-sex turnoff. 

"I'm cumming!" Mari shouted in the midst of Naoya's haze, and his mind placed a screeching halt in his thoughts to focus solely on how her walls now squeezed around his cock, contracting around him in waves. 

“Shit.”

She might be twenty years older, but goddamn, did she still have that grip.

Naoya’s climax didn’t take long to follow. The way his mistress's hot body crumpled against him as she wailed out his name repeatedly was simply too much, his own breaths dissolving into a strangled moan as his orgasm consumed him. “Holy fuck.”

In one white flash, Naoya's vision went blank. Hot semen shot from his tip in intense bursts as Naoya plunged himself completely into one of the tightest cunts he'd ever fucked. (And yes, he had enough girlfriends and one-night stands to make this conclusion. Don’t be silly to assume he didn't have experience.)

He panted hard, trying to catch his breath as Mari rolled over into the spot next to him, leaving their sweaty forms tangled in bed. As his heart slowed down from its marathon, he puffed his cheeks out and exhaled. 

Wow. 

He hadn’t gotten his dick twisted like that in a while, and to award the star of tonight’s show, he faced his lover and pressed a kiss against her forehead. 

“Drained my balls completely empty,” he hummed in sheer amazement, pulling the sheets to cover their naked bodies. If they hadn’t gone for four whole rounds already, he would have hauled her into another episode of intense thrusting and moaning, perhaps slamming into her by those windows for the entire Tokyo area to see.

Giggling, the older woman slipped off the bed. She trailed toward the vanity mirror to re-apply her lipstick for what must be the millionth occasion. Not that Naoya was complaining because he had a thing for women with that cherry red on, and every time Mari went smacking her painted lips together, Naoya would find a way to get all that off.

All Naoya could picture in his head was how much he wanted to watch her suck him off again and see her print lipstick stains on his dick, from the base to the tip.

Well, fuck. 

He’s getting hard again.

To distract himself, he tossed over to the side, propping an elbow on a pillow and resting his chin on his palm. This gave him the perfect angle to watch his hot girlfriend while hiding the boner between his legs. A genius move.

Then, he thought aloud, “I don’t know what I would have done without those nudes that you’ve been sending me over these past several weeks.”

She purred, flattered. “Liked them?”

Naoya had to correct her.

“Loved them.” Recalling the slew of dirty photos that he had received over text made his eyes roll to the back of his head. “I would bring my phone to the bathroom just so I could beat off to your pictures in the shower. Even came on my screen once because I couldn’t hold myself back a moment longer.”

Mari grinned from ear to ear from the compliment, staring into the mirror to wipe away a misplaced smear. “So, you really missed me.”

Naoya nodded in acknowledgment, reaching for his unfinished glass of Rémy Martin that had been left on the bedside table. “Most certainly, I did.”

“Of course.” Through her reflection in the mirror, he saw her scarlet lips pucker into a pout. “We haven’t been together in weeks since you are always busy and all.” 

Despite her leveled tone, the bitter twinge caught Naoya off guard. 

Did Mari think he did not care for her anymore after everything that he had done just this night alone? It was not like he had intentionally avoided her in recent weeks. Naoya had made himself extremely clear in the past that he had a company to run, a marriage to tend to, and a father to please. 

Especially that last bit. 

Naobito Zenin had been on Naoya’s ass on what seemed like everything lately: ‘financial forecasts’ this and ‘earnings call’ that. The Chairman had been chasing him on whether he had been planning for his upcoming strategy discussion with the board, consulting with other C-suite members about new firm initiatives, and speaking with Daisuke (your father) about recent company operations. Immensely annoying. His very own father should at least have some sympathy, knowing that Naoya—unlike his older cousin—did not grow up with a business mindset drilled into his head. 

With the family patriarch also now aware of his son’s extramarital affair, Naoya must especially tiptoe around every interaction that involved his mistress.

After all, Naobito might have been turning a blind eye ever since discovering those scandalous paparazzi photos online, but he was no fool to ignore his son’s funny business, especially if this would jeopardize the Zenin Corporation’s success and the proud family’s reputation. In their most recent meeting, the older Zenin had reiterated that if there was any evidence that his son’s affair may imperil the company’s bottom line, there would be ‘severe consequences’—and in these matters with his own father, Naoya understood that no punishment was off the table. 

“So,” Mari pressed, noticing the blond’s silence, “when are we going to see each other again?” 

Meanwhile, the woman before him was absolutely oblivious to everything that had been going on ever since Naoya rushed back to Japan from Mexico. 

He would take the blame, too.

Naoya intentionally did not mention how his father discovered their scandal’s photos, to lessen Mari's worry. Turned out the decision bit him in the ass, given how the woman narrowed her gaze in suspicion.

With the glass of cognac now trapped between his teeth, he took a slow sip that burned down his throat like spiced liquid fire. The warm residue, a testimony to the drink’s potency, pulsed through his veins like a slow-burning hearth as he sat up slowly.

“As soon as I can.”

She surprised him with her fast response. “Why not this weekend? We were supposed to go to your lakehouse in Switzerland soon, remember?” she pointed out, and Naoya had to conclude that she could not possibly be serious given that the European country called for a ten-plus hour flight from Tokyo, even with his Gulfstream. 

“That, I cannot do,” he replied, his tone firm.

If he went missing again, his father would be livid. 

“Why not?” an unaware Mari asked while walking over to the bed again and seated her naked form along the edge. “Trying to make time for your wife again?”

Interesting that she assumed you had a role in this. Frankly, Naoya had not thought about you the entire night, seeing you last as a sobbing mess in the penthouse.

As your husband, he should feel a teensy bit bad about cursing you off, but he had never been the one to chew on an emotion that did not serve him, so he quickly let that guilt go. This whole thing was your fault, anyway. Purposely poking around in his business, and then letting him have his way with you despite how obviously little he could care. As far as he can tell, he left you huddled up in an adorable little ball on the floor, sulking and crying over how badly you fucked up. 

Pathetic. 

That should teach you a lesson.

Perhaps Naoya would like to see a little backbone in you, but if that meant you may grow even more testy when around him, then he would rather not.

With his tongue running over his lower lip, he placed his glass atop the oak table again. “About my schedule,” he began, “no, my wife doesn’t have to do with anything.”

“Good!” Mari huffed with finality, his answer giving her the green light to crawl across the mattress and push the covers off Naoya. She straddled him perfectly, allowing his latest load to trickle out slowly from her cunt and onto his thighs. “That’s what I thought, that you two were over had your marriage certificate not existed. Besides, what was that you had texted me?” she continued as if she wasn’t pressing her slicked pussy against his semi-hard cock. “That your wife had been cheating on you for who knows how long.” 

He nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Disgusting,” the older woman spat, rolling her eyes at your audacity. “So, she’s a spoiled brat and a two-timer. For someone from her noble background, your wife is one dumb and cheap whore.”

Quite an ironic statement given who was talking, but Naoya kept his mouth shut at the thought. Rather, his hands kneaded his mistress’s fat butt, which at least helped him keep his mind away from things he didn’t want to think about. 

“Yeah, she sure is a slut,” he agreed.

Naoya sent a convincing smile in between his words, and he could practically see Mari’s face light up from his validation. 

“See! Exactly!” she exclaimed. “That bitch never lived a hard day in her life and is already blessed with everything the world can possibly give her—wealth, respect, a good last name. Yet, she dares to act like she has nothing?!” Enraged, she threw her hands into the air from frustration. “Might as well just leave someone as entitled as her! Filing a divorce is simpler than you think, speaking from my own experience. Once the whole world understands that she’s a nobody unmatched by you, everyone would support your decision, right?” Wrong. His father surely would not. But to satiate his own curiosity, he let her continue. “Not to mention, baby, people would respect you more as a businessman without your current wife.” Wrong again. 

His hands might be tracing another woman’s curves, but Naoya understood that he needed you if he hoped to ascertain his ascendancy in the company. That was why his father, with his life’s many decades, easily recognized this necessary union and had pressed for this marital arrangement.

To the Zenin family, you were the perfect addition. 

Descending from a line of honorable financiers, you not only had the right connections to the upper echelon since birth but also were the daughter of the Zenin Corporation’s Chief Operating Officer. Yet, most importantly, you were incredibly elegant, classy, and admired, exactly the person people would want to be associated with if they wanted to clear their public images and tarnished pasts…and exactly the impeccable character that Naoya needed by his side.

His marriage to you served him as not a bond forged upon mutual love, but rather a calculated decision to leverage your virtuosity as a cloak—or moreso, a distraction. With the public adoring you, Naoya could confidently hide his lack of competence and credentials behind your flawless paragon. Goddamnit. He fucking hated how he relied on you more than you depended on him (albeit you might not realize this), but until his father kicked the bucket, what could Naoya realistically do?  

Therefore, dissolving this shrewd alliance between him and you would be detrimental not only to two distinguished bloodlines but also to Naoya in particular.

He already skirted around being shown out the door once.

Given Naobito's recent stringency, there was no room for Naoya to make another mistake again.

But rather than dealing with an upset Mari if he chose to reveal these facts, Naoya instead patted her head with encouragement and brushed her brown locks. “That’s my smart girl,” he praised, tilting his head forward to express his agreement. 

Flustered at the commendation, she went on without much thought. “I’m so glad you agree with me, baby. That’s just…That is a thought that has been on my mind for a while, but,” and she paused briefly to formulate her next words carefully, “I mean, I only want the best for you. Naturally. So, maybe there are better people to spend your money on and life with.”

Now, Naoya would admit that he can be shortsighted at points, but he was not that stupid to realize that she was alluding to herself. 

“I appreciate you for thinking about me,” he still said, because he must stay on her good side if he hoped for a comprehensive answer to his following question, “By the way, do you know any new rumors going around about Toji?”

The said man’s ex-wife perked up visibly at the question. Even though she was busy plotting your downfall a moment ago, the mention of Toji inveigled her such that she would push all her other thoughts aside. 

Although Mari had presented divorce papers to her then-husband earlier this year, Naoya continued to allow—in fact, encouraged—Mari to still visit Toji on the occasion. He didn't give two hoots that his mistress was getting railed by his cousin if that meant that she came back with fresh dirt about him, allowing Naoya to indulge in his custom-tailored version of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

“I had an appointment with him yesterday." Using her fingers, Mari combed through her dark strands. “Crazy that you used to work with him and his stupid little entourage, right?"

“That is crazy.” Had he not been reminded, Naoya would have nearly forgotten that he used to work as a sex therapist too up until earlier this year. In that office was where he befriended the then-Mari Fushiguro, although he had known her years prior as an in-law. Naoya only terminated his position after his father finally decided to hand his only son (rather than his nephew) the CEO and heir apparent titles. “To think that now I oversee a large conglomerate,” he stated proudly, “so unlike everyone else, I have matured and am off to better things.”

"Funny for you to say that,” the woman resumed, now twirling her hair out of habit. “Do you remember your office in the middle of their hallway? Only recently did I realize someone scratched out your name from the door’s plaque. Don’t even know who did that.”

What pettiness.

What was this?

Middle school?

Were the other therapists that butt hurt when Naoya turned against them to propel himself toward his well-deserved future as the Zenin Corporation’s heir? “Choso probably did that. He is the type to hold grudges and act upon them.” 

Even if he has to kill, Naoya mentally added from what he recalled about his former co-worker but preferred to keep that morbid possibility to himself.

“That makes sense. I never liked Choso anyway. He will talk shit about you to your face,” Mari declared, which launched her into a soliloquy about her grievances regarding the other therapists that Naoya used to work with. “Meanwhile, Geto smiles too much. Creeps me out.” Agreed. “Sukuna is overly cocky.” True. “Then, Toji,” and this is the part that Naoya really wanted to hear about, “has been distancing himself from me these days.”

Why, this was not the news that Naoya hoped for. 

Rather than soaking in joy from hearing about Toji’s demise, Naoya instead felt his stomach drop from a sinking dread.

While he found some sick gratification in pleasing his cousin's past partner both emotionally and sexually, the more important reason he needed this MILF in his life was to monitor his estranged cousin’s moves from afar.

She was merely the perfect spy.

What better source of intel was there in this world besides Toji’s former spouse, who simply walked up to Naoya and offered her espionage services the day she learned that her then-husband was no longer set to inherit the Zenin thone? All that she asked in return was a little money and a little physical attention, which was easy for Naoya to throw at her.

After rightfully (and he must place emphasis on that last word) taking back what he was entitled to, Naoya was positive that Toji had a target placed on his back. Therefore, Naoya needed Mari's updates on Toji and Co. to protect himself, to protect his position, and to protect the status quo that he had worked so hard for.

If Toji stopped talking to Mari completely, how else would Naoya keep his threats under watch?

“Do you have ideas on why Toji is giving you the cold shoulder?”

Pressing her bare chest to Naoya’s toned ones, Mari stopped briefly in contemplation but ultimately shrugged. “Do you think he’s getting suspicious? That he realized I left him for his younger cousin Naoya?”

“No,” the said man denied vehemently. “That cannot possibly be.”

Naoya had been extremely careful in keeping his extramarital relationship as discreet as possible. For example, the moment he learned about those photos of him and his mistress en route to Mexico, he immediately called every publisher to have them take the pictures down, no matter the monetary cost.

He made sure to leave no crumbs along his trail and refused to believe in the contrary. “Any other reasons you can think of?”

With Naoya not reciprocating her libido, Mari started to appear visibly annoyed. “Maybe he’s moved on," she suggested, answers curt. "Maybe he'd found another person.”

If Naoya thought the first hypothesis was alarming enough, this second explanation definitely took the cake. 

At least, if Toji had truly gotten suspicious about Mari’s affiliation with the current Zenin successor, Naoya somewhat had some control over that situation. Divert the paparazzi. Create cover-up stories. Bribe more publishers. Find each and every way possible to take the spotlight off him and his secret affair.

On the other hand, there was not much Naoya could do if Toji no longer found interest in his ex-wife.

Huh.

Well, that wasn't quite good.

How could Naoya play his next move?

Or had Toji been playing him all along?

Strategize.

Naoya needed to strategize. C'mon, he was the fucking CEO of the fucking Zenin Corporation. He had done strategizing plenty of times before, so why was his mind suddenly going blank on what to do next?

“Who has Toji taken interest in?” Naoya found himself asking, desperate for information.

“Beats me.” Mari guided his hands to trace her curves, cupping her breasts with Naoya's palms to urge him to massage the rounded mounds. “Although, think about this: she cannot merely be anybody,” and she released her grip around his wrists to start counting with her fingers, “One, she has to be well-off. Therapy ain't cheap. Two, she is stuck in a bad relationship. And three, she is also stuck with bad sex.”

What a good approach to the situation, narrowing down the potential suspects and investigating from there!

Who knew some women had the smarts in them to devise such detailed commentary? That was what Naoya loved about mature and more experienced psyches in ladies like her. 

Now, her brilliant analysis reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t exactly place his finger on who. 

Whatever, because with this turnaround in the mystery, Naoya decided he would figure this out soon enough.

Triumph was right within his reach.

It was only a matter of time until his aging father Naobito, the one person who had the final say in all company and familial matters, solidified his Last Will and Testament to ensure his wonderful only son Naoya would be the successor to the multibillion family-run conglomerate, condemning Toji Fushiguro to be dwarfed by his little cousin forever. 

But first, he must treat his paramour to a much-deserved reward that would render her limping in the morning.

With all the moving parts falling into place, Naoya burst into a wicked cackle by her left tit, leaving Mari staring back at him with a confused frown.

"What's so funny?" she demanded to know. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Naoya assured between snickers, leading his mistress forward by gently pulling her waist toward him. He attached his mouth to the nipple, flicking the bud with his tongue as he added, “What you should worry about, though, is how you will walk when you wake up after how sore I’m going to make you.”

The cheesy comment made Mari laugh as she batted her long lashes. She saw where this was going, and her large chocolate-colored eyes sparkled with an excited twinkle as she met his hazel ones, her thin lips stretching into a Cheshire Cat grin from delight.

"Baby," she cooed, "the dirty things you say to me make me forget that you have a wife at home sometimes."

Something about her remark made Naoya chuckle even more heartily as his mind meandered back to his nearly forgotten spouse: his wife.

His…wife.

Wait.

𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗘𝗡𝗗

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: The end to Act Two: House of Cards! The very reason behind this act’s name is to reference the precarious web of disguise and deception in this story, only for this structure to topple like a domino chain. Thank you to all my lovely readers for reading, and although I recognize my writing is imperfect, I would love to hear your thoughts before the third and final arc!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[transtravisstoll]

Batkids Age Reversal List

want to do a age reversal AU for the batkids but why do the comics keep fucking up their ages this has taken me weeks of trying to figure out i’m gonna off the DC comic writers. if you have any better ideas for their ages pls let me know im going to gouge my eyes out if i have to do any more math.

alfred: ???

-immortal. fuck you. he looked death in the face and told him to stop tracking mud all over his freshly mopped floors and that dinner was at eight.

bruce: 39

-had damian at eighteen bc i wanted it to be as close to his age gap with dick in canon as possible but i am not having this man fathering a child at 15

damian: 21

-came to gotham at age 8, refused to be a normal kid bc he was literally raised an assassin and bruce doesn’t know how to encourage nonviolent activities in children so letting him fight crime seemed… better than being an assassin. he, at the age of eight, could not come up with a name that wasn’t fucking Terrifying so whenever gordon asked for his “little shadow”‘s name they were suspiciously silent bc no, damian, you can not call yourself Vengeance or Malice. the media called him shadow and it stuck.

duke: 18

-wanted to keep his age gap with tim similar, but with duke being the older one, instead of doing dick and jason’s age gap bc it makes more sense this way.

-his parents got jokerified when he was 12, and so did a Lot of people in the Narrows. it absolutely decimated their little community so duke became signal. he didn’t fight crime, he gave back to his community, he helped with the cleanup. bruce ended up basically kidnapping the poor kid. (duke ran away from his foster home because he wasn’t a glorified babysitter or maid, fuck you, he can crash on couches.)

STEPH: 16

-again, wanted to keep the age gap between steph and tim the same but keeping steph the older one. makes more sense this way!! leave me alone.

-became spoiler at 13, was only spoiler for a year before she became shadow at 14 for about six months in between damian and jason. there was a six month period as well where bruce didn’t have a shadow and alfred literally had to bribe steph to be shadow bc he wasn’t abt to let a kid run around the gotham night without knowing batman was two steps ahead of them. plus, having a kid with him made bruce more cautious.

TIM: 15

-FINALLY got to mimicking the age gap between dick and jason in canon

-never becomes shadow, actually, he takes bab’s spot as their computer wiz. doesn’t call himself oracle though because he fucking sucks at making names. calls himself override (barf).

-also, steph is the only one who hes told he’s override to and also knows the batfam’s identities

-duke knows tim is override bc he’s scary like that!! tim doesn’t know duke knows he’s override, but duke knows that tim knows their identities and tim Also doesn’t know that. duke is fr terrifying. love him.

-tim figured out the batfam because of duke’s meta abilities bc he’s also scary like that

Jason: 14

-oh, he’s… currently out of commission. became shadow at 12.

-didn’t die in ethiopia, because fuck that plot. he was doing a stakeout but the joker had kidnapped this itty little baby (an eight year old boy) who he found running around the gotham night. jason went out of commission saving that little boy. what does out of commission mean? who knows. could be dead. could be severely injured. kidnapped. the possibilities are endless.

-i think it’s fucked that the comic fans voted for a fifteen year old to die by the joker. y’all are crazy.

cass: 13

-mimicking jason and cass’ age gap with cass being younger bc it makes more sense leave me alone

-isn’t a Batman approved shadow (yet) but she shadows batman anyways after jason’s… indisposed. the bonus is that batman doesn’t Know he has a shadow but gotham is kept in the dark abt shadow being (redacted) because cass and jason had the same exact fucking build, okay, jason hasn’t gotten his growth spurt yet (because of childhood malnutrition) . weird how batman lost weight though, after he went on that rage incident after the latest arrest of the joker. he’s leaner now. (is it the same batman? who knows.)

dick: 8

-mimicking the tim and damian age gap, bc it’s six years in my head leave me alone.

-huh, jason went out of commission saving an eight year old and dick is eight… suspicious. coincidence? hm.

babs: 7

-mimicking the babs and dick age gap but with babs being younger bc i think she’s older in canon? unsure. DC please i’m going to kill you and then me.

[thecapricunt1616]

Kinktober Day 10 🎃

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 (𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭): You and Richie had been married for 2 years, it was the most amazing, fun filled, laughter, and of course, love filled two years of your life. This year, it was Tiffany & Frank’s turn to have Eva for Halloween, so you and Richie decided to do a halloweekend bar-hop tour in Chicago together. Sure, it was full of alot college kids - but you were only in your early 30’s so you weren’t too out of place, you mostly just went because you loved getting drunk and dancing on your husband like no one was watching. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello everyone! Welcome to day 10/31 of Kinktober! Can you believe were 1/3 done already?! That is so crazy! I am queuing this all the way back on 10/3/24 so hello from the past! Thank you once again for all the love you've all been giving on both prompt&kinktober, it means the world to me! If you'd like to see my schedule/masterlist for this celebration click right 🎃here🎃; & if you'd like to also check out my masterlist for Promptober 2024 click right 🦇here🦇. & If you'd like to be added to the taglist for either celebration, comment on the according masterlist & I will add you! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k+ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing, Smut, No use of y/n, pet names, age gap relationship 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬: @/𝘀𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗸𝗮-𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀 & @/𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀

You and Richie had been married for 2 years, it was the most amazing, fun filled, laughter, and of course, love filled two years of your life. This year, it was Tiffany & Frank’s turn to have Eva for Halloween, so you and Richie decided to do a halloweekend bar-hop tour in Chicago together. Sure, it was full of alot college kids - but you were only in your early 30’s so you weren’t too out of place, you mostly just went because you loved getting drunk and dancing on your husband like no one was watching. 

Of course, it wasn’t going to be too long that Richie was going to stay out - He was 48 years young, after all. He told you that his absolute max for saying out was 12:30, and he in no way shape or form even over his dead cold body was going to allow you to stay out by yourself without him watching over you. It was rounding 12:20 and Richie gently rubbed at your hip to get your drunken attention from the new bar friend that you’d made. You had convinced Richie to dress as Sabrina Carpenters boyfriend from the ‘Please Please Please’ music video, and he only agreed because the outfit wasnt too uncomfortable and no one would really know what he was unless they asked you, because he wasnt even quite sure he understood.

“Princess Bubblegum, your carriage will be leavin’ in 10 so wrap it up ye’?” He said, the nickname he’d been calling you all night due to your fluffy pink coat. You pouted, looking at your new friend, who had taken her girlfriend who also dressed up as Sabrina Carpenter, except they were doing the outfits from the Taste video. 

“My old man says i’m turning into a pumpkin’ soon, It was so fun hanging out with you! Come to the bathroom with me? We can exchange numbers?” you asked and she nodded happily. You handed your purse to richie and gave him a juicy slightly - or a little bit more then slightly - drunken kiss, and held your new friends arm as you walked off to the bathroom, Richie following not far behind to wait for the 3 of you outside the bathroom. 

Because the ladies room was having a line out the door, and the mens room was fully empty- Richie came over to where you were standing in line and rubbed over the small of your back to get your attention to which you looked up at him “‘Ey- take your friends to the guys- I’ll watch the door for you theres stalls” he explained in your ear so you could hear him. You nodded with a smile and explained to your friends, taking them to the mens room and Richie stood outside in front of the door so no one could get in.

After about 20 minutes of drunken conversation, helping eachother unzip & rezip costumes, & exchanging numbers, you pulled open the door to see richie leaning against the doorframe and he turns around. “Was worried you fell in babe, You ready?” He asked and you giggled drunkenly

“Sorry Daddys tiiireedddd- gotta go girls but text me! We need to do this again!” You told your new friends and they agreed, disappearing back into the crowd and giggling as Richie guided you out with a hand on your ass, quickly catching you when you stumbled in your large platform heels and chuckling. 

“Jesus baby, y’gonna break an ankle” he teased. The drive back to your Condo was fairly sobering, Mostly because Richie stopped at work, ran in, and made you a footlong italian beef with extra cheese and was sure you washed it down with a liter of Fiji as he sat and munched on some french fries, chuckling when you moaned multiple times about how good it was. 

As soon as you got home, you went to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stripping out of your clothes. As you were taking off your earrings, Richie came in, pressing your hips against the counter and kissing your neck gently, rubbing his strong calloused hand over the curve of your hip. You gasp softly at the feeling of the icy countertop pushing into the plush of your stomach and dip your head back into his shoulder, shivering when you feel the warmth of his hand rubbing over your stomach, slowly trailing up over your breast and squeezing gently.

“Y’looked really cute t’night, baby” he said softly into your skin, leaving a trail of kisses from the ball of your shoulder up your neck. 

“So did you, you should wear polos more often- they make your arms look so yummy” you smiled, eyes fluttering open to see his icy blue gaze boring into yours in the reflection of the mirror. His eyes were so striking, every time you saw them- especially the starkness of them against darker fabrics like he was wearing, the intensity of them made butterflies swarm in your belly. He chuckled a bit, leaning in closer and you felt the brush of his gold chain on the back of your neck, pulling your lip between your teeth to stifle a moan.

“Yummy? Mmm? Is’at why you were bitin’ my neck half the neck hmm?” he teased, tugging and rolling your nipple between his fingers gently, earning a gasp and a small moan to be pulled from your chest. You shook your head, holding his gaze in the mirror and he smirked a bit more, tugging your nipple just a bit harder, still enough to send waves of pleasure crashing against your clit, feeling yourself begin to drip from your core, your thighs becoming slick.

“What then princess? What had you all worked up, tell daddy” He purred and you gasped in pleasure, back arching into his touch and your eyes fluttered shut, face falling to the side and you took a deep breath, moaning softly. 

“Your new cologne” you said and he hummed in surprise

“The cologne? Mmm, I see. I guess it was a good choice then, you can’t keep that mouth to y’self princess” he unhooked his belt, popping the button of his jeans and pushing them and his boxers just enough to let his cock free. 

“See what you do t’me, baby? Touch me” he took your hand, guiding it back so you felt his velvety throbbingly hard length in your palm, wrapping your hand around it with his on top, guiding yours as he pumps it in long, slow strokes. He moaned softly, a drop of pre dribbling out at the feeling of your soft, smaller hand around him. 

“I want you to fuck me” you said in a sultry tone, looking up at him with big doe-like bedroom eyes. He smirked a bit nodding and taking your hand, putting it on the counter so you could brace yourself and bending you over, spreading your legs with his feet to give him better access. 

“Mmmhmm- course baby. an’ we’re both gonna watch”

Fin

Tag List: @carmenberzattosgf - @daysofyellowroses - @mouseymilkovich - @gallaghersgal - @carmybrainworms - @l4long-winded - @babyspiderling - @southsideserendipity - @djlnkaled

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 14

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault

Word Count: 3438

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Wayne Manor stood on a huge, sprawling estate. Living in Gotham made it easy to forget that places like this existed in the world. The trees were greener. The streets were so clean, they almost sparkled. There were no sirens, no smell of rotting garbage, no hunched over zombies stumbling in the streets. This part of Long Island was like a little eden - a heaven on earth carved out and carefully guarded by the ultra wealthy. 

“This is it,” you breathed as you and Arthur approached the gates. Fortunately, there were no angry dobermans prowling about the grounds today. Only freshly-trimmed grass and the towering mansion in the distance. You wondered if anyone was even home. 

Suddenly, Arthur froze in his tracks. “Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” 

He turned to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets, throwing his eyes to the ground.

“What do you think he’ll say?”

Your heart broke for Arthur all over again. You couldn’t imagine all the emotions that must be careening through him right now.  

“Thomas Wayne?” you drew in a breath. “I guess I don’t know what he’ll say. But we’re gonna get an answer out of him one way or another.” 

“I just…” Arthur sighed. “I just want him to talk to me. You don’t think that’s too much to ask, is it?”

You reached out and stroked Arthur’s cheek. 

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “After all, you said your mother’s been writing to him all this time and she hasn't gotten a response. I’m sure the Waynes have people who handle their correspondence - maybe they’ve ignored it or maybe nothing’s gotten through yet. Either way, I know I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

Arthur looked up at you. Those arresting, green eyes: filled with hope, hurt, anticipation. You said a silent prayer in that moment that whatever happened next, Arthur got the answers he needed. The answers he fucking deserved. 

Arthur pulled his hands out of his pockets and clasped them over your wrist. “I’m so glad you’re here, Y/N. If I had to come all by myself, I don’t think I’d have the guts to-”

He stopped, his eyes catching hold of something in the distance.

“What is it?” You turned around. Nothing had moved or changed that you could see. It took you a minute of scanning the surroundings until, finally, you spotted him: a tiny, sad-looking little boy playing all alone on a wooden jungle gym near the front gates. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old. 

“I think that’s his son,” you murmured. “I heard about him a couple times in the news.”

“Bruce Wayne,” Arthur said. 

“That’s right, Bruce.” You stared at the boy, mystified. There was a distinct melancholy and isolation you could feel radiating off of him, even from so far away. 

“He looks so…so…” You struggled to find the words.

“Alone.” 

You pursed your lips and looked back at Arthur, nodding. And then another realization dawned on you. 

“Oh my God,” you blinked. “If Thomas Wayne really is your father, then that would mean…”

Arthur swallowed, nodding. “I’ve thought about that, too. I know it sounds crazy, but now that I see him…I…”

You waited. 

“He reminds me so much of myself when I was a little boy.” 

“Oh shit,” you exhaled, looking back at Bruce, then back at Arthur. “I mean…I suppose given what your mother’s said…what do you wanna do, Arthur?” 

Arthur took a deep breath and to your surprise, a warm, gently confident smile began to spread across his face. 

“I’m gonna go say ‘hi.’”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You wanted Arthur to feel completely supported. You knew that sometimes being supportive looked like coming along, and other times it looked more like hanging back and letting the other person take the lead. 

“I think I should do this part myself,” he said. “But I’ll come get you if I need to.” 

“I’ll be right here,” you squeezed his hand. “I love-”

Wait, what the hell were you saying? Had you completely taken leave of your senses?

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat. “I love…waiting!” you finished brightly, hoping he’d buy it. “I’ll wait as long as you need and I’ll be right here. Be strong, okay? And if they give you any trouble, call me and…I’ll beat everyone up!”

Arthur smiled, lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, sending chills through your entire being. If he’d somehow picked up on your almost-love-confession, he didn’t show it. 

Arthur already has enough on his mind right now, you chastised yourself as you watched him approach the gate. He doesn’t need you muddling it further with your irrational emotions. 

You couldn’t tell Arthur you loved him now. First of all, it was way too soon. 

Second of all…

Well, the second part was embarrassing. And more than a little crazy. You knew your feelings for Arthur were real, but that didn’t stop you from recognizing how intense they were after only knowing him a short time. 

So why, then, did it feel like the most natural thing to say? The thing you sensed he needed to hear?

You meandered further up the drive, away from the entrance, giving Arthur his space but staying close enough so you could quickly run to his side if necessary. 

It was startlingly quiet here compared to the endless cacophony of Gotham City. So quiet, it felt like if you stopped and listened carefully, you could hear the wind in the trees singing to you. 

Despite the peaceful surroundings, however, bitter memories began to weave their way into your mind. You knew a good faction of your former GU classmates hailed from this part of Long Island - hell, some of their families probably even rubbed elbows with the Waynes themselves: probably got invited to their fancy Christmas and New Year’s Eve parties, toasting their continued privilege and fortune over a bottle of champagne that cost more than you made in a month. 

You didn’t have anything in common with those people. So how on earth had you found yourself among them in the first place? 

The answer was almost annoyingly simple: your parents had drilled the importance of getting an education into you since you were a toddler, telling you it would open doors, get you the better life you deserved…unlike the two of them who’d gotten jobs straight out of high school and lamented nonstop how much the lack of a college education had held them back from their potential. 

“Potential,” you muttered to yourself under your breath. That was the word they’d always used and it still left a sour taste in your mouth. 

“You have so much potential, Y/N,” they’d always say. “But you can’t let it go to waste. You have to work three times as hard as everyone else in order to realize it.”  

You’d believed them - bought their promises hook, line and sinker and dutifully applied yourself like the good little girl you were. The truth was, you’d never quite fit in at Burnley High, either. Most of the kids there dropped out or phoned in the bare minimum to scoot by and pick up a diploma, but you’d been among the top five performers in your graduating class of over 400 students. You’d done the extra work, taken the hardest classes, stayed home and sacrificed any semblance of a normal teenage social life to mold yourself into the high-achieving student your family wanted you to be. 

And it had paid off. At least for a brief moment in time. When the letter from Gotham University arrived saying you’d gotten in with a full scholarship, you’d cried tears of joy. Your mother had cried. Your father said he was proud of you. He never said things like that.

You remembered back to that day: the teary-eyed seventeen year old girl holding an acceptance letter in her sweaty, trembling hands like a golden badge of honor. That badge represented everything you’d worked your entire life for, everything you’d ever wanted: Validation. Recognition. Belonging.

Belonging. Yes, back then, that same girl believed she was finally being admitted through the golden gates to a place she belonged. You’d been naive enough to assume that at college you’d encounter more people like yourself, people who came from nothing but made amazing things happen through hard work and belief in themselves. 

But Gotham U had been nothing like you’d expected. 

Yes, the students were bright, but the vast majority were also spoiled and entitled. They seemed to take their enrollment at the school for granted, and the fact that their parents paid their tuition in full (were able to pay it in the first place) didn’t in any way accelerate their work ethic. These were kids whose parents owned country houses, summer houses and yachts. Kids who went to horseback riding camp every summer since they were six, learned how to ski when they were four, took vacations over spring break to places like Paris or Barcelona or the Hamptons. 

You’d never even ridden on an airplane. 

How ignorant that girl with the acceptance letter was, you mused. The dream of being a student at Gotham University had powered everything you’d worked for the first 17 years of your life…and all too late turned into a horrible nightmare. 

“Potential.” What did it mean now? Of course, your parents were still holding out hope you’d eventually return to GU. But GU was just like the Waynes themselves: they wanted to portray themselves as a beacon of magnanimity and altruism, but when it came to actually stepping up and doing the right thing, their interests lay solely with themselves and their ability to maintain wealth and power. When the cards were down, a poor scholarship girl from Burnley High didn’t qualify for basic human consideration. And your biggest mistake was believing that they ever would. 

After all the unpleasantness that had occurred towards the end of your first year - the school’s administration “generously” forcing you to take medical leave or be expelled - you’d started to believe you didn’t belong anywhere. You didn’t see a future for yourself anymore. And feeling this way not only made you incredibly sad, but it scared you. 

But all that had started to change since meeting Arthur. Arthur, you imagined, who right now was probably feeling the same way you had on the first day of freshman orientation: Hoping, with the most optimistic part of his heart, that he just might find the love and acceptance he’d yearned for for so long.  

But was life on the other side of those golden gates all that Arthur imagined it could be? 

Suddenly, you felt extremely protective of him. You knew it was inappropriate to eavesdrop, but who were you kidding? Just the thought of Arthur going through something similar to your experience at that school was unthinkable. You tiptoed closer - not close enough to be spotted, but close enough to give yourself the best chance of overhearing…well, spying. 

“Bruce! What are you doing?” Another man’s voice shot out accusingly over the quiet. “Get away from that man.”

Shit. Not good. Your heart started to race. 

Please, you prayed, please don’t be assholes. 

You realized almost immediately how useless such a plea was. These were the Waynes, after all. 

“It’s okay,” you heard Arthur respond. “I’m a good guy.”

Resisting the urge to race to Arthur’s side took every inch of self control in your body. You reminded yourself that he’d wanted to do this alone. You wanted to respect that. Arthur could hold his own. He was a strong person, deep down. And dealing with rudeness was nothing he wasn’t accustomed to.

But if they were complete assholes to him, you didn’t know how much you could tolerate. 

You crept even closer, still hidden behind the giant shrubs that surrounded the estate. The other voice couldn’t belong to Thomas Wayne, you reasoned. Thomas Wayne didn’t have an English accent.  

“Can you tell Mr. Wayne that I need to see him?” Arthur asked. 

At that moment, the wind picked up, compromising your ability to hear as clearly as before. You cursed under your breath, cupping your hand to your ear. 

“...your mother was a sick woman,” you heard the other man say to Arthur in the coldest, most unfeeling tone imaginable. “She was delusional.”

Your jaw dropped. Your right hand fell from your ear and twisted reflexively into a fist. 

“Don’t say that,” you growled under your breath. 

Exactly who the fuck did these people think they were? Couldn’t they put themselves in another person’s shoes for just one fucking second? If the roles were reversed, wouldn’t they want the same answers? Didn’t everyone deserve that? 

Deep breaths, Y/N, you told yourself. Deep breaths. 

“Just go,” the man’s cruel, disdainful voice echoed up the drive. “Before you make a bigger fool of yourself.” 

That did it. Fuck the deep breaths. Fuck taking the high road. And fuck this rude asshole.

The entire world blurred into raging red as you found yourself barreling like a fiery cannonball down the drive to Arthur’s side, ready to fight, to climb those gates like an acrobat and beat the living hell out of that asshole - any anyone else who wanted some, too. 

How dare he talk to Arthur Fleck, your Arthur Fleck, that way? 

When you rounded the corner, you were surprised and more than a little satisfied to see that Arthur had already reached through the gates and grabbed the dude by his collar, holding him in a semi-chokehold. 

“Kick his ass!” you cried out. “Kick his motherfucking ass!” 

The rude man’s eyes darted to you, filled with surprise, confusion, fear. And the inability to utter another word for lack of oxygen. 

Good.

You pulled your right arm back and swung through the gates with all your strength, punching him square across the face while Arthur held him in place. The man’s nose started bleeding and you smiled. Your anger made you strong, increased your strength exponentially in the moments you needed it most. Though you’d never admit it to anyone, it was one of the things you actually liked about this part of yourself that you were supposed to reject, to work so hard to rid yourself of. 

You liked feeling strong in a world where everyone was more than happy to step and walk all over you without a second thought. And you were tired of pretending you didn’t.

Arthur was a slight, diminutive man, but his anger made him strong, too. He had the asshole so tight by the collar, it looked like his face was turning red. 

You were winding up, about to strike again when you suddenly registered the face of the sad little boy from before. Standing off to the side, he was now a very scared-looking little boy; frozen like a little Bambi fawn, eyes wide, terrified. 

Terrified…of you. Of the both of you. 

Those bewildered eyes were enough to stop you in your tracks. All at once, common sense and empathy rushed back into your heart like an ocean wave. As much as this surly jackass deserved a beatdown, you knew you’d never forgive yourself for permanently traumatizing a defenseless little kid. 

Even if he was a Wayne. 

As though he’d come to the same realization at the same exact moment, Arthur released the man just as you stopped yourself from throwing another, harder, right hook. The jerk fell backwards, clutching at his crumpled collar, and Arthur grabbed your arm. Without exchanging a word, you raced back up the drive together, running like two gazelles as fast as your feet could carry you. 

The next few minutes were a continued blur. Wayne Manor receded further and further into the background as you drew closer to the train station. You’d been too afraid to turn back and see if anyone was chasing you, but by now the adrenaline was wearing off, and your legs felt like they could give out at any second. 

“Arthur, wait!” you stopped, breathlessly, reaching out to grab him by the sleeve. Mustering up the courage to look back, you were relieved to see you hadn’t been followed. You’d managed to escape by the skin of your teeth. 

“I think we’re in the clear,” you gasped for air. 

Arthur stopped and turned to face you, panting. “Are you alright, Y/N? Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine,” you shook your head. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. This is all my fault.”

A confused look came across his face and he took both your hands into his. “What do you mean?”

“I went crazy again. I werewolfed! I didn’t mean to, it's just…” your eyes filled with tears, realizing all too late of course, that the last thing you’d wanted in accompanying Arthur today was to do anything that would ultimately result in making it harder for him to get the answers he needed. 

How could you have let this happen? 

Arthur held up a hand to stop you. “I went crazy first,” he pointed out. 

“Well, yeah, you grabbed the guy,” you conceded. “But I’m the one who made his nose bleed, for God’s sake! I never would’ve done it if I knew the kid was watching.” You shook your head, tears filling your eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved…”

“No, Y/N,” Arthur squeezed your hands in his. “I’m glad you were there. I didn’t wanna scare the little boy, either. Seeing him brought me back to myself. I know what it’s like to be scared at that age…scared and helpless…”

Arthur’s words made the tears you’d been fighting swell over and you fell into his arms. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. Shh, come here.” Arthur pulled you into a tight embrace against his chest. 

“I didn’t mean to scare him,” you sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m a bad person, Arthur. I’m awful.”

“That’s not true!” he protested. “Why are you saying that?”

He stepped back and tried to look you in the eye, but you were too ashamed to face him. The mean, inner voice you’d suffered with in secret since you were a little kid had taken over and had you in its iron grip of shame:

You don’t deserve to be loved.

You’re defective.

You’re worthless.

You’re awful. 

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Arthur whispered into your hair. “I understand. I understand what you’re feeling. But it’s not true. Whatever you’re telling yourself right now is not true.” 

You cried harder into his embrace. You might have known he’d understand. You’d found the one person in the world who felt what you felt - or at least the one person brave enough to admit to it. 

“Please don’t cry, Y/N.” You could feel Arthur’s heart pounding against your ears. “You're not a bad person,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re anything but a bad person.”

“But I messed everything up. Like I always do.”

“You stopped yourself from taking things further,” Arthur pointed out. “We both did. That means something.” 

“But how are you gonna find out if Thomas Wayne’s your father now?” you wailed. “How are you gonna get your answers?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Arthur reassured you. “I don’t want you worrying about that.”

Arthur brought his hands to your face, cradling it. You looked up into his shining, green eyes, tenderness emanating from them. His fingers gently stroked back your hair, wiped away your tears. 

“You need to breathe, Y/N. Can you take a deep breath?”

He breathed with you. In and out. And in and out again. Finally, you felt your pulse begin to slow, the maddening blur of self-hatred and negative vitriol shift from a wild gallop to a trot. It was a small change, but enough to allow you to start feeling human again. 

Arthur stepped back and a small, shy smile spread across his face. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said. 

You wiped your nose, bewildered. “‘Thank you’? For what?” 

“For coming here with me. For standing up for me the way you have. No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.”

“But, Arthur, I-”

“If you hadn’t been there for me, I’d be all alone right now,” he interjected. “Like I’ve been all my life. But I’m not alone anymore. Because of you.”

His shy smile shifted into a sly grin. He placed a soft kiss on your cheekbone. 

“I love you, too,” he whispered, before tenderly bringing his mouth to yours. 

Thank you for reading and for all the sweet, encouraging comments! I have struggled to write this as of late, but I'm committed to finishing this story and can't wait to share the rest of it with you. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

xx ghastella

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