#I really like her! i know shes his first wife and all but shes so well written i kinda love her

[sageshouldknowbetter]

Some may be apprehensive that Severance won’t portray Mark’s interaction with Helena in the tent as the sexual assault it was. But not only will they — they already are.

Mark’s behavior toward Helly has completely changed. He doesn’t sit next to her at Irving’s funeral. He shuts down attempts at conversation with offhand, vague snarky comments and a defiantly blank facial expression. When Helly knocks on the door to the bathroom, his eyes dart around like an animal cornered. Where he once would have slowed down for her in the hallway so they could talk, he walks much faster ahead. He’s trying as hard as possible to avoid her. To ignore her. To run away.

Now contrast this with his treatment of “Helly” when she first walked out of the elevator in season two. He waited for her to arrive! He was so relieved she’d come back! And when they were walking down that hallway and he was explaining the situation with Ms. Casey, he stopped mid-stride, turned to her with a smile on his face, and said “Look, Helly—“

He never got to finish that sentence. But some say he was going to confess that though his outie had a wife, his affections lay with her. And I think they’re right.

So why is he acting so differently now? The answer is obvious: “Because they are smarter than us, okay? They know everything.”

After the assault, Mark likely feels like a complete idiot. He spent so much of season one deconstructing his beliefs and breaking free from Lumon’s propaganda. And the minute he believes he’s immune to their lies and no longer a corporate slave, he is taken advantage of and hoodwinked by the very figurehead of said company, masking as someone he loves.

A symbol of Lumon convinced him he was safe. Tricked him. Invaded him in the most intimate way possible, with him completely oblivious, “like an idiot.” Right when he thought everything might be okay.

So maybe Lumon’s right. Maybe there’s no point in fighting. Because if he was stupid enough to not realize his own friend was being possessed by her billionaire doppelgänger, then maybe Lumon is correct about innies being nothing more than pawns. Maybe they are people, and he really is… not. (That’s how Helena treated him, anyway.)

And if that’s the case, of course he wants to give up looking for Ms. Casey and lose himself in work! For a moment he thought he was a human being, deserving of autonomy over his own body and capable of something more than sitting behind a desk — but his assault sends that all crashing down. He is an extension of his outie, made for work and nothing more. Going beyond that gets dangerous. That’s what got Irving killed… and him in Helena’s tent. And Helly? He cannot trust Helly. As far as he knows, his only confirmed moment with Helly since the OTC was when he was holding her in his arms, his jacket wrapped around her shoulders. Why should it be Helly coming back to the severed floor? If Helena could trick him before, who says she can’t learn from her past mistakes and trick him again over and over? Mark refuses to be humiliated and hurt after last time, so he avoids her (and Dylan!) and puts up a barrier of cool, snarky indifference — just like how he deals with grief.

But we know that indifference is a mask. When Milchick walked out of the elevator after revealing he knew about him and Helena Eagan, Mark had no one to pretend for — and he went completely stiff, blankly wide-eyed in an expression extremely reminiscent of his usual innie self. Whatever the reasons for this, one thing’s for sure: Mark does deeply care about what happened in the tent. And at least for now, he will lose himself in Cold Harbor to cope with it.

Lumon certainly got their productive worker back. But good Lord… at what cost?

[stellewriites]

Part 5 - John Price x reader

Masterlist

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife's wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, smut - fingering, oral (f!receiving), riding/frotting, John's genitals are referred to as cock.

You’d been screening John’s calls and leaving his texts unread for the last fortnight, feeling worse and worse for it and not knowing exactly why you were doing it.

Each notification had your heart pumping in excitement for the possibility of him still reaching out despite your silence, and then thumping too hard in immediate anxiety and guilt.

“Stop moping and text him,” Kate said to you finally. She’d been watching you check your phone routinely throughout brunch and had noticed how you were only half focused in their conversations and slow to engage. You’d laugh a second later than the others and had forgotten what you’d ordered when it had arrived at the table.

“I’m not ready for dating.” You shrugged her off, looking back down at your phone.

She huffed and sent you a disbelieving look. Your other two friends currently present, Cass and Paige, paused their conversation to look at you doubtfully too.

“I’ve not seen you as happy as you had been recently when you were hanging out with him,” Kate said and the other two agreed. “I know this isn’t a confidence thing either. He said he liked you, and you clearly liked him.”

“Katie,” you said warningly.

“She’s not wrong,” Paige said and took a sip of her drink.

“I mean, hell, if you’re really set on not dating, then don’t! That’s fine, but text the guy back for god’s sake and hang out again. Or put him out of his misery.” She bit a large chunk out of her avocado toast as you slumped in your chair.

“He’s still trying, right? That’s what you were worried about?” Cass said, hitting the nail on the head.

Guiltily you looked down at the unanswered messages under John’s contact. It stung to realise that maybe John had been genuine that night and you’d turned him down so bluntly.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and typed up your reply, sending it before you could talk yourself out of it.

>> hi john sorry for the distance, i’ve been figuring some stuff out. make it up to you over coffee if you’re free later?

He didn’t leave you waiting anxiously for long, replying immediately with an affirmative.

“What did he say?” Paige asked.

“We’re meeting up later,” you said a little bashfully. “He said he’s looking forward to seeing me.”

Kate smiled knowingly. “Yeah, I bet.”

You elbowed her lightly and put your phone away. It was easier to settle back into the conversation with the group, easier to concentrate, with your chest not feeling so tight.

——

“Hey,” you greeted him softly inside the coffee shop later that day. He’d arrived early again.

You felt almost more awkward now than you had when meeting him for the first time.

“How have you been, Sunshine?” He asked as you took your seat.

“Good. Fine. Yeah.” You nodded before you shook it. “I wanted to apologise, John. For a lot of things but—“

“No need, Sunshine, honestly,” he waved you off gruffly, leaning forward in his seat as you shrank back in yours. “I’m just glad you’re happy to see me now.”

“I am,” you confirmed with a shy smile, sat opposite him and growing more relaxed at the pleased twitch of his moustache.

“So what’s been new?” He asked again.

You snorted. “It’s only been a couple of weeks since we last saw each other,” you said.

He blushed, the pink flush half hidden behind the beard he was growing back out.

“Guess I got used to all the updates throughout the day quicker than I’d realised.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before looking to the counter and sitting up straighter. “Do you want anything? My treat.”

Your smile had dropped at the reminder of how you’d skipped out of his life so suddenly; even though you didn’t owe him anything, you had grown to be friends before the wedding and you know you’d have been hurt if it was the other way around.

“Yeah, just an iced latte please,” you said before stopping him from standing. “Hey, I said I was making it up to you. I should be paying.”

He huffed a laugh. “Not likely. You’re making it up to me by sticking around, Sunshine. You didn’t have to come at all.”

“John…”

“One iced latte coming up,” he said and stood. “God knows why, they taste more of sugar than coffee.”

“That’s exactly why,” you huffed a hesitant laugh as he headed to the counter. When he came back a minute later and sat down with the drinks you took a sip before speaking. “To answer your question, work has been the same old, but I’m thinking of maybe getting a pet? Tied between a cat and a rabbit at the moment. If it’s a rabbit, I’ll need to sort the garden though, it’s little bit overgrown right now.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise and he put his tea down. “You got the tools for it?”

“I think my neighbour has a lawnmower and my mum probably has a pair of shears I could borrow for the hedges,” you hummed. It had only been a half thought semi-recently, so you’d not put much planning into the idea yet, just the start of a pinterest board of cute ideas.

“I could help,” he offered, a touch too casual. “If you wanted. I’ve got a lawnmower I don’t get to use too often and some time off before I have to head back to work.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said with a gentle smile.

He nodded.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Same old,” he said vaguely, repeating your own words back at you. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “I am having to go back to work properly soon though.”

You tilted your head, confused at his drab tone, certain as you were that you’d messaged once or twice when he was at work, stuck doing paperwork or in a meeting before the wedding.

“I’ll be heading overseas,” he clarified. “Might not be contactable for a few weeks at a time. Just didn’t want you to think…”

“That you were ignoring me to get back at me for the fact that I ghosted you?” You guessed when he trailed off. John nodded sheepishly.

“Fuck, I’m glad I’ve gotten to see you before I go,” he said quietly, just looking at you.

“Me too,” you agreed. Impulsively, you finished off your drink and made a quick decision. “Do you want to come back to mine for dinner? I’ll cook.”

John grinned brightly. “I’d love that.”

——

You busied yourself in the kitchen when you got back home with him, missing his chuffed smirk when he saw your door was still in working order with no sign of it dragging on the doorstep.

You didn’t miss his hum when he joined you in the kitchen a moment later.

“That shelf meant to be on a slant?” He asked, eyes shrewd as he looked at your collection of herbs and spices.

“Oh, no but I’ve just never found time to fix it. And it’s not fallen down yet, so it’s not even made an appearance on my Urgent List.” You shrugged.

He hummed again and headed back to the front door. “I’ve got my tool box with me, I’ll sort it now for you.”

“No, John, you don’t have to,” you called after him, but he was already out of the door. You didn’t know that he’d kept his toolbox in his truck ever since he was first here just in case you messaged again needing anything sorted, and now he was glad his foresight was paying off.

The shelf was sorted quicker than the kettle boiled and you swatted at him to go relax once he’d cleaned up after himself. He placatingly held his hands up in mock surrender and went to wash up in the bathroom while you rinsed some veg under the kitchen tap.

You were given ten minutes of peace before you started to wonder where he’d gone and left the pasta in the pan boiling and the sauce on a low heat to find him. You weren’t afraid to chew him out if he was snooping, but instead you found him hunched over the sink in the bathroom.

“Taps were finicky,” he said before you’d had chance to ask him what he was doing. When he’d had chance to grab his tools from the kitchen without you noticing you didn’t know, but you couldn’t help but snicker as he frowned down at the old taps.

“Don’t do well sitting still, do you, John?”

He shrugged. “Figured I might as well since I’m here,” he said instead.

You snorted. “Come help me with the sauce once you’re done here then.”

You stifled a laugh when you heard him swear through the open door before the sound of a running tap turned on and off a few times. He came back through to the kitchen a little later with a satisfied smile and you did your best to concentrate on cooking instead.

You smiled at him when he settled in next to you to take over stirring the sauce, leaving you free to set the table. You felt a pang of domesticity, it was all so easy with John.

You plated it up and sat down together. Eating dinner with him was just as easy, the awkwardness you’d felt walking into the cafe forgotten about completely as conversation flowed naturally between the two of you. Though you did have to fend the man off from planning to go out in the morning to get the wood to build you either a hutch for a potential rabbit or put up climbing shelves if you decided on a cat instead; he’d figured you’d be able to decide by time you’d finished the pasta.

“Best meal I’ve had in a while,” he sighed happily when he finished off the pasta. “Stunning.”

“Thanks, John,” you said bashfully. When you stood to take the dishes he moved quicker and grabbed the plate from your hands. You didn’t bother complaining, knowing how stubborn the man was already; instead you joined him and put the dishes away once he’d cleaned them, smiling to yourself as the pair of you worked in comfortable silence.

When all was put away and your kitchen was back to normal - now with a sturdier shelf - he smiled and headed for the door reluctantly with his toolbox in hand.

“Thanks for today, Sunshine,” he said softly and, after a brief moment of deliberation, he leant in to kiss your cheek. “Talk to you later?”

You nodded happily and closed the door behind him.

When you laid in bed later that night you couldn’t stop thinking about the gentle, chaste kiss. The only real one you’d shared so far.

——

You only got a week with John before he disappeared. He’d made you promise to keep him updated like you would normally so he could catch up when he got back again, but you tried not to overwhelm his notifications; sticking to a couple of texts every few days instead of the daily messages you’d quickly fallen back into.

If he wanted more you were sure he’d let you know and if he only skim read the mountain of messages and photos you’d still managed to send then you’d ease up next time.

He said he would be gone a month, tops, but you didn’t hear from him for two. You tried not to worry, his job wasn’t an exact science, but that fact could make you more anxious depending on the day.

It was a random Wednesday evening when you got a knock on your front door and your heart suddenly plummeted.

You walked to the door with shaking hands. The repercussions of John’s work had never fully occurred to you until this moment, or at least you’d done your best not to linger on it for too long. But now visions of the person on the other side of your door being someone in an official uniform, waiting to let you know weeks too late that John had—

John had shown up to your house unexpectedly.

“Sunshine.” He smiled.

Clearly tired, he stood on your doorstep with his hair damp and curling at the ends, his beard overgrown and his work gear still on, though a big bag was hooked over his shoulder. His smile never wavered, relieved when you answered the door.

“John?” You stepped to the side to let him in without a second thought and he trailed a heavy hand appreciatively down your arm.

“Cleaned up a little at base, but I haven’t stopped driving home since. I’ve had you on my mind as soon as we were wheels down,” he admitted with soft eyes.

You didn’t question his use of the term ‘home’ when referring to driving to yours after spending months in another country and you certainly weren’t going to think about how it made you feel.

“You should’ve gone back to yours to sleep, or at least dropped off your things,” you berated him half-heartedly. “We could’ve caught up when you weren’t running on— what? Four hours of sleep?”

“Knew you’d be my first stop.” He’d dropped his bag by the front door, his daft hat dropped on top, and was slumping onto your couch with a heavy sigh. “Should’ve left my shit at base maybe. Just didn’t want to have to drive back tomorrow.”

“Have you eaten?” At his slight shake of the head, you moved to the kitchen and started pulling something together, leaving him to relax. You knew he must be tired by how he wasn’t following after you, and your suspicions were confirmed when you came back with a thick sandwich, the last slice of a quiche you’d made earlier in the week and some picky bits from your fridge to find him asleep. You cringed at the lacklustre dinner, but you hadn’t been expecting guests and you were going grocery shopping tomorrow, so you placed it on the coffee table and sat down carefully next to him so he didn’t wake.

Turning down the volume on the TV, you let him nap as you watched a few episodes of your latest favourite. You couldn’t help but let your eyes dart over to him every so often to check on him, giggling when you noticed his mouth had dropped open during his well deserved catnap.

You paused your show when he grumbled and wiped a slow hand over his face a few hours later.

“Hello, sleepyhead. Hungry?”

“Starving,” he groaned croakily.

“Best I could do on short notice,” you said and handed him the plate. You watched like a big cat documentarian as he tore through the food with an unholy passion, finished in minutes. You silently handed him your water and he chugged it back with a loud ‘ahh’ after.

“Lovely as ever,” he said sleepily before nodding back off. You stifled a laugh and stood to grab him an extra pillow and blanket. It was clear he wouldn’t be driving home tonight, so you thought you might as well let him get comfy and crash on the couch for the night.

A brief thought crossed your mind of waking John and letting him share your bed; you’d done it for the wedding after all, and it wouldn’t have to mean anything.

You shook your head and draped the blanket over him. You knew it would mean something and you weren’t ready to make that step yet as much as you wanted it.

——

You woke in the morning to John using your shower and you smiled at him with raised ‘brows when he came back out dressed in more familiar civ clothes. You looked for the bag at the front door but couldn’t see it.

“Staying for breakfast or heading home?”

“Heading home, sadly. But I’ll call you later, yeah? I want to catch up properly,” he said. “Thanks for letting me stay, Sunshine.”

“Of course,” you said genuinely and in between bites of your cereal. “It was a nice surprise.”

He hummed and leant in to kiss your temple with a warm hand cradling the back of your neck. You tried desperately not to push into him and to ignore the thoughts of how he smelt like you out of your head; how if anyone tried to flirt with him on his way home they’d smell your strawberry shampoo and very berry body wash. How your spring air scented febreeze spray had sunk into his jacket from the couch through the night.

Your subtle mark was all over him and neither of you seemed to mind.

“Call me when you get home, John.”

He hummed, lingered for a moment more, then headed out with his bag in tow.

——

The bar was loud and your friends were still wide awake and partying strong, celebrating the news of Paige’s well earned promotion. You, however, were flagging.

It was late, and the prospect of staying out any later was making holding back a yawn nigh impossible. You’d never been a big drinker so you’d not been keeping pace with the others, a possible mistake since you seemed to lack the same energy as them, found firmly in their second wind. The last thing you wanted to do was bail but you didn’t want to bring the mood just down hanging around either.

Your phone buzzed and you smiled when you saw it was john.

>> Still awake?

<< for once yeah :p

>> What show has you gripped to binge watch late into the night this time?

You snorted.

<< out celebrating with friends, paige got promoted!!!

>> Tell her congratulations from me

>> What time does the party end?

<< idk but i’m ready for bed already 😪

<< taxi isn’t booked for another couple of hours tho :(

John’s speech bubble appeared and disappeared a few times and you watched the screen avidly.

>> Do you want me to come meet you to walk you home?

<< really??

<< would you mind? it’s late and a little cold so you don’t have to!

>> Send me the address and I’ll set off now

<< thanks john ❤️

Either John lived close or he’d ran there, as you’d only just finished telling your friends that you were leaving early when John turned up.

“You shouldn’t leave on your own, walking home at this time of night is dangerous,” Cass said worriedly, her words slurring slightly.

“I’m not, John’s meeting me to walk me home,” you said and flushed when they all cheered and whistled at the mention of his name; their catcalls gained volume and enthusiasm when John walked through the bar door a second later, head on a swivel as he looked for you in the crowd.

“Fuck off,” you hissed at your friends playfully and hugged them all goodbye before you headed over to John. He was grinning and waved happily over to your friends, nudging you when he saw the embarrassed scrunch of your shoulders.

“Good night?” He asked once you were on the path outside.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “She deserved the raise like three years ago, but at least they’re finally recognising all the work she does.”

John nodded along. He cursed a moment later when he felt a few raindrops. You both looked up at the gentle patter and gasped when it quickly turned torrential.

Your walk turned into a run as John grabbed your hand tightly and led you a little shop alcove near by, shoving you under and crowding in after you.

“Shit, I should’ve driven,” he blamed himself, looking at your soggy jacket and the rain that had splattered your round cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it, John,” you waved it off. “Bit of rain never hurt anyone.”

The pair of you were pressed close, his broad shoulders and your wide hips taking up the space in the doorway enough that you were both holding your breath in each other’s space.

“Just my luck really,” you said.

“It’s just British weather,” John corrected. “Don’t know why I wasn’t expecting it to rain in the middle of summer,” he joked.

You laughed and felt butterflies flutter at his mirrored rumble, focused on where your stomach pressed against his. You no longer felt tired stood with him.

It went quiet, with just the soft rain and the sound of the odd car passing by the only things heard for a moment as you both held your breath, eyes locked.

You leant forward those last few inches and pressed your lips against his. Your noses bumped and you automatically lifted a hand to tilt his chin slightly to adjust, pressing your lips a little firmer when he followed your guiding hold. His hands on your hips were reverent as he let you lead.

You delighted in the scratch of his beard for a split second before suddenly flinching back, your hand becoming firm against his shoulder to keep him from following.

“Fuck,” you swore shakily. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he huffed with a confused smile.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you insisted. You felt him lean towards you and firmed the stretch of your arm to keep him in place as best you could in the small space. “It’s mixed messages. It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m still waiting,” he admitted. “I’ll wait however long y’need, Sunshine.”

You ducked your head.

“I feel guilty,” you whispered. You swallowed thickly as the reasons were finally voiced even as you avoided his eyes. “I feel like it’s Charlotte all over again for you; I’m stringing you along when you could be finding someone else. I’m— it’s not fair,” you repeated.

He leant back in shock, a frown pulling at his brows and his mouth moving silently for a moment. John looked down at you from his tucked in chin and considered your comparison, knowing the quick denial on the tip of his tongue wouldn’t soothe you.

“Have you decided that then? You don’t want to be with me?” He asked finally.

You hesitated, unable to lie and say no, and he latched onto that with a fierce hold.

You thought back to what your friends had said, the fun you’d been having with him again, how natural it all was.

“Sunshine…”

“We could take it slow?” You asked.

“Of course,” he agreed readily, pushing those few inches closer to you in eagerness. “Slow and steady, whatever you need.”

“Ok.” You nodded.

“Ok?”

“I like you, John,” you admitted almost shyly, smiling up at him. “I want to try.”

In the next breath he ducked close to kiss you again.

You were pressed against the damp, grainy wall of the little alcove as he greedily slipped a hand beneath your shirt and hungrily kissed you, not stopping for a breath or a gasp now that you’d given the go ahead.

“W-what— happened t-to,” you gasped as he filled your space and every thought. The patter of the rain going unheard as his shaky breaths filled your ears and echoed torturously. “Take— taking it s-slow?”

He sucked on your lip before pulling back and panting, swapping breaths with you. “I’m not down on one knee, am I?” He asked as though you were being obtuse.

You snorted, eyes wide in disbelief. But you didn’t push him away, instead your grip kept him close.

He dipped in for another peck and you cupped his bearded cheeks.

“My house isn’t far from here,” you suggested softly. Testing the waters.

In a flash John was dragging you out of the alcove and down the street with you laughing as you splashed through the puddles to keep up with his determined pace.

“Wrong way, John,” you laughed and tugged at his arm, directing him the to follow you and head the other way towards your house. He crowded against your back, slightly off to the side, and you felt butterflies erupt at the sound of his low chuckle as your steps overlapped and you tripped each other in eagerness.

——

Once you were safely inside your home, it didn’t take long for you to get naked and climb on the bed. You dragged John along with you, clad still in his boxers.

He hovered over you as you laid back flat, his broad palms running from your ribs to your flank soothingly as he settled between your thick thighs.

His eyes were all black, the usual greyblue just a thin strip around the edges as he took you in in all your glory.

The need to make you keen and cream on his fingers was obvious by his hungry expression and the flexing of his hold on your softest parts.

“Been wanting this for too long, Sunshine,” he whispered. “Longer than you know.”

“Think I can guess,” you gasped as he lowered himself down and kissed your stomach, making sure to cover each curve and roll as he journeyed up, keeping his warm palms cupped and dragging up your sides as he kissed between your breasts. Your knees squeezed him at the ribs when he palmed one of your tits, using the light hold to lick a broad stripe over the sensitive nipple. He went back to kissing higher, trailing up along your stretched neck and biting teasingly at your earlobe before coming face to face.

“Any preferences?” Fingers, tongue, toys.

“I’d prefer to cum sooner than later,” you said cheekily, basking in his eye roll.

“Yes, ma’am,” he huffed good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.”

He leant down and kissed you, plunging and messy, not like the dry brush of lips in the rain or the rushed eager swaps of spit and squished smiles on the way home and into your bedroom. You brushed your hands over his furry chest and trembled pleasantly, raking your fingers through and sighing at the strength usually hidden beneath layers of baggy and comfortable clothing.

“John,” you sighed and he shuffled his way down back between your legs.

“Just lay back and relax,” he ordered before trailing his nose through your bush, huffing in an opened-mouthed breath with a pleased hum.

“Need a map?” You joked breathily, breath hitching when he huffed an amused breath at your opening, pressing a light kiss there afterwards. His thumb gently spread your vulva and he gave a gentle kitten lick. Using the building wetness he found he trailed his thumb lower to your arsehole and kept it there with little pressure.

“Nah, this is your clit, right?” he asked teasingly. You snorted, but felt your pussy clench and your muscles tense when he added a bit of pressure.

“John—“

“Relax,” he said again. He moved his attention and his hand back up. “Don’t need a guided tour, though I appreciate the offer; wouldn’t mind watching you show me what you like another day. But I know what I’m doing, love.”

He licked a stripe up your centre and your eyes fluttered, your hips pushing up into his hands when he puckered his wet lips around your clit and gently suckled. “Yeah, you do,” you whimpered.

He slipped his middle finger inside fluidly, no resistance, and you let out a soft sigh, your hips subtly raising to get him as deep as you could. He changed the angle of his mouth so his strong nose nudged at your bundle of nerves and he could mouth at your plush wet opening instead. He licked around his finger, adding to the sticky mess as you practically sucked him in.

He could tell by the flutters of your cunt that you were enjoying yourself, the pinch of your brow only adding to his confirmation when he looked up, but you were so quiet.

“Y’can be loud for me, Sunshine,” he said, curling his finger and grinning cheshire-cat-wide when your jaw dropped at the feeling. “Don’t be shy.”

“Give me reason to,” you said with a cut off gasp. “W-work for it.”

He felt heat rush to his core, fattening his already throbbing cock.

As you wish.

He hooked one trembling thigh over his meaty shoulder and focused back on the heat between your legs; like sticky syrup, slippery between the pads of his fingers as he dipped a second finger in beside the first.

He gave you a moment to clench around the thicker intrusion with closed eyes before setting a quicker, less forgiving pace than before. You let out a surprised grunt, your hand flying down to grip his hair as he sealed his lips to your clit with a wagging tongue.

“Fuck.”

His left hand moved to keep your hips still, strapped across your soft tummy like a seatbelt, his palm a firm pressure in the soft pudge below your bellybutton.

He broke the seal of his mouth to heave in a panting breath and nibbled at the soft skin of your thigh beside his head to catch his breath while his fingers continued to pull sweet noises from you.

You whimpered softly, dropping your hands to the mattress and clinging tight to the sheets and felt your cheeks heat up when John chuckled.

“Can’t tell what I prefer hearing,” he said and paused his fingers deep inside of you, spreading them to get a little look at the desperate cling of you around his long digits. Your creamy arousal slid down the back of his hairy knuckles and he revelled in the light squelch as you wriggled in his hold, urging his fingers deeper inside. “Your sweet cunt or your careful moans.”

“Please, John,” you asked. Pleaded. “I’m close.”

He slipped his fingers free of your tight clutch and shushed you with a smile when you whined. Licking his pruny fingers clean, he groaned at the taste.

“I’ll get you there, Sunshine, don’t worry.”

He left a wet smack of a kiss on your thigh before ducking back down and licking deep and insatiable into your needy cunt, his fingers focused on your sensitive clit instead, rubbing almost too hard and too fast as your hips pushed your cunt further into his mouth. His arm kept you locked close and unable to shift away, not that you wanted it to end, but the sudden onslaught of hyper-focused attention was a lot after his teasing and after so long without a partner. Your hand had made its way to the back of his head once more, cupping gently, but urging him forward with a steel determination. He wasn’t allowed back up for air until you’d cum.

He pinched your clit and you shrieked at the nip of pain beneath the pleasure, feeling yourself tumble over the edge as he huffed and grunted into your pussy like a man starved.

John held you close by the thighs with both hands as you arched and clenched on his tongue; slobbering and groaning against your tender vulva as you cried out. He gave your thigh one light but sharp slap as you flooded his senses; sweaty and salty, the taste and scent of you.

You collapsed back with a breathy little, hnngh, and let your fingers scratch lazily through his hair where he’d rested his face in the groove of your groin.

He hummed and dragged himself further up your body before slumping over you, kissing the taste of you into the back of your mouth, ingraining it into your tongue, gums and teeth as you whined and writhed beneath him.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you laughed tiredly into his mouth. “Gimme a chance.”

He smiled and ground himself against your hip. “Can’t help it, y’make me feel like a teenager.”

Your nose scrunched and he huffed a laugh. “A’right, won’t make that comparison again.”

You pecked his lips in thanks and slipped your hand down between you, gathering a glob of your own arousal between your fingers. Thoroughly lubed, you pushed your hand under the band of his boxers and rubbed the collected juices over his cock and watched his brow pinch in pleasure.

It was your turn to tease.

You leant up and kissed him open mouthed and slow, the tease of tongue against his lips as he humped against your hand, moans mingling in breaths shared.

You moved your hand lower, went to slip in a finger but he gripped your wrist tightly. You looked up with wide eyes, hand falling loose in his grip where it had stopped you in your tracks.

“No, not like that. I don’t— I don’t like—“

“That’s ok,” you interrupted his stuttering explanation, watching walls build up before your eyes that you were determined not to let solidify. He didn’t need them around you. “We can just keep doing it like before,” you offered easily with a smile and lingering kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Whatever you want.”

John guided your hand back up hesitantly, watching you as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept your fingers hovering over his cock once more and you pushed forward to rub from tip to root and back up again.

“Yeah?” You asked and watched as his shoulders relaxed again. He moved his arm to lean back on his elbow by your head and you smiled, satisfied with the show of trust. “Yeah, ok.”

You pushed against the spot just below the head of his cock, trapping it against his pubic mound and were gratified as he groaned low, like the sound was forcibly pulled out of him as he thrusted roughly against your fingers. John ducked his head and kissed you, missing the mark in his desperation and licking against the corner of your mouth instead.

You nudged your face up slightly and let him moan against your lips, quickly falling into the distraction of getting him dripping and close; pulling out all your tricks and feeling yourself get worked up in return whenever you felt him throb and pulse in your hand, his thick, hairy thighs shifting either side of yours.

He pulled back and you paused your ministrations immediately, worried you’d done something wrong again, but John hurriedly tugged his boxers down and off, kicking them away from the bed and diving back towards you with a ravenous kiss.

Rolling onto his back, John tugged you into his lap so you were straddling him and for the first time in his presence a burst of hesitance connected to your weight bloomed in your chest.

You lifted up on your knees slightly to relieve some of your weight from his hips.

“Oh, John I don’t know—“

“Come ‘ere, Sunshine,” he pulled your hips back down and urged you to ride him, moving with his own frotting hips as your vulva spread to soak around his cock.

With each grind, the head nudged slightly from its foreskin and kissed your clit perfect as you tilted back. You huffed a weak moan as he slipped through your folds and the schlickschlickschlick sounds of your combined arousal mingling and frothing between your thighs had you panting and moving quicker.

Once you found your pace, one hand balanced back on his hairy thigh and the other rubbing at your clit furiously, he lifted his hands from the fat of your hips and stomach up to thumb at your nipples.

You noticed how he moaned and tensed when you slipped heavily over his sensitive tip and grinned a little meanly as you focused a careful swivel of your hips to catch your slick centre on it. You clenched and gushed over his throbbing tip as he whined, gripping you tightly to try and pull you lower.

“Close?” You asked with a breathy giggle, feeling your own legs shake with the oncoming orgasm.

You traced gentle fingers over his faded top scars beneath his thick thatch of chest hair as he groaned and leant down to kiss him. It didn’t take much longer for you both to cum, both worked up and the constant, teasing brushes at your cores were enough to gradually tip you over the edge.

His hand in your hair kept your mouths attached as you panted hot and wet, and when you broke free to the side his beard was scratchy against your nose and cheek as you shuddered on top of him.

“John, fuck.”

“Just like that, just like that,” he thrusted up in jerky little motions before stilling.

You flopped to the side a moment later, less conscious of your weight but wanting to be comfortable, and he gathered you close immediately. He tucked you under his chin with a grunt, slipping a leg over yours.

“I’m not letting you out of this bed for a week,” he groaned sleepily. You hummed happily, exhausted. He let you drift off before whispering in your ear. “Sorry this isn’t slow, Sunshine, but I won’t be going back to being friends now.”

You grinned and nuzzled closer.

“I think we should go visit my home town next, only fair you meet my crazy family too, yeah?”

John closed his eyes happily and nodded. “Looking forward to it,” he said. “Though my rates are a little higher than £100.”

You pinched his thigh and laughed when he tried to squirm away with a hiss.

You kissed his neck chastely and tightened your arm around his waist, nodding off as you felt him trail a hand back and forth over your naked back.

[kalinara]

So I saw a post earlier talking about Marvel couples and how relatively few long term relationships there are. There was mention of Reed and Sue as being basically the most consistently together couple, crediting that to the nature of the Fantastic Four being about family.

I don't disagree with that.

But then there was a comment about Scott and Jean being "all over the place" and depending on editorial at the time. Sorry for the paraphrase, but I couldn't find the post again to be sure.

And honestly I couldn't disagree with that more.

The thing about Scott Summers and Jean Grey is that, with two exceptions, if they are both alive, and they both know the other one is alive, they are together FULL STOP.

The first exception to this is the original Lee/Kirby years. Because they hadn't gotten together yet. But anyone who has sat through the god knows how many issues it took for the two to actually get the fuck over it and fuck basically gets stockholmed into shipping these idiots.

Because when you go from seeing this nonsense in issue 10:

THIS nonsense in issue 24:

THIS nonsense in issue 3-fucking-4:

And you realize this is only a sampling and that pretty much every issue in between has more of this idiotic bullshit, you'll be screaming at them to "JUST FUCK ALREADY!!!" too.

NGL, it's what turned me into a shipper. Fucking Stockholm Syndrome.

The other time, of course, is X-Factor. Because Scott, in his incredible wisdom and self-perception, happened to marry a woman who looked exactly like Jean Grey, (and asked her if she was Jean Grey on the eve of the wedding).

Scott gets a lot of shit from fans for ditching his wife and son for Jean Grey (which is a vast oversimplification of a very complicated storyline, but fine, for once, let's go with it). So yeah.

A good chunk of X-Factor is basically just these two finding their way back to each other after dealing with a whole mess of other mind-bogglingly traumatizing events and trying to raise a baby while meeting alternate future kids and (in Jean's case) not really handling that well.

But anyway, after that? They're together.

Now, admittedly, the Grant Morrison era of X-Men is a bit complicated. We all know about Emma Frost. I still resent deeply the fact that a man is named cheater for getting taken advantage of by his therapist, but fine. Maybe they'd have broken up over Emma, maybe not. Maybe Jean would finally break down and fuck Logan, maybe not. Sadly she died instead. And then a future version of her decided to push Scott and Emma together for a while. Which was a fucking weird narrative choice, but fine.

When Jean comes back? Immediate romantic scene with her resurrected husband by the way. And yeah, fine, he drops dead again later. And then when HE comes back to life, she's off in another dimension and presumed dead for a bit.

But when they are back, alive, and in the same place? She immediately shoves her tongue down his throat.

On Krakoa, they're the most married they've ever been. They finally get to raise their son together, in a place that isn't a future hellhole. They are explicitly polyamorous, implicitly in a throuple, but when it comes down to the wire, it's Scott Summers and Jean Grey.

And now, in From the Ashes, she's off being a goddess in space. But she's still having psychic phone sex with her patiently waiting husband. It's not clear if they're still doing the polyamory thing, I'd like to think they are because we so rarely get to see portrayals of non-monogamous but still very happy couples. But who knows. What we do know is that even now, even when they're not in the same place: it's Scott Summers and Jean Grey.

I suppose the one exception is young Scott and young Jean when they're brought to the future. But here's the thing. As much as they both try to fight it, as often as they've tried to tease some other kind of ship with Hank or Laura or Jimmy Hudson, or teenaged Vampire Storm, or anyone else. The two still can't ever really escape each other's orbit. (And you know, maybe if they actually got the full story instead of fucked up fragments from incredibly biased people who currently hate at least one of them, they might have felt a little less like escaping. Who knows?)

I guess I can see the argument that the state of their relationship can vary. Sometimes they're very happy, sometimes they're raising a kid. Sometimes they're frayed. Sometimes they fight. Sometimes they fuck other people.

But in the end, as long as they're both alive, it's Scott Summers and Jean Grey.

Reed and Sue still get top billing as the big couple of 616, sure. They're not immune to silly love triangles, but they tend to be dead less often.

But I still think Scott and Jean are up there, as consistent and steady as anything in the Marvel Universe.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Pokemon collection (pt. 7)"

Or "something made a hole in my backyard pt.7"

Shadow The Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

Notes: Happy Valentine's day!! If you're feeling nice leave a comment, they are hugely appreciated!

Part 6

Fainting was a weird sensation. It´s like when you stood up really fast and you get dizzy, except instead of going away the dizzines just makes you fall to the ground and hit your head.

It was the waking up part that was higly confusing. Mainly because the first thing you saw was a yellow-orangey creature.

"AHHHHH" Yeah, probably the whole neighborhood heard you scream.

And then you heard multiple voices at the same time from which what you understod was: "Hey, there´s no need to scream" from what sounded like a child, "You´re not dead!" from an older child, "This one is weird, she is silent and then loud" that sounded like a grown ass adult. And there was also Ozzy barking.

"Okay everybody, move aside, give her some space" Now that voice you did recognize, that was your aunt Maddie.

Only when she sat next to you did you register that you were laying in the couch. How long had it been?

"Hey sweetie" She started as she gently laid her hand on your arm as though you were a scared animal that would run off at any moment. "I´m sorry this all came as a surprise to you, we didn´t mean to..."

"I´M BACK, WHO SCREAMED?" Tom interrupted her as he appeared out of nowhere, or maybe he had come from upstairs, you didn´t know, you were sooo confused.

"What happened? And why is there a blue hedghog here?"

"We were going to tell you, but then you showed up with Shadow and we didn´t want to..." Once again your aunt was interrupted.

"Hi! I´m Sonic! Your super awesome cousin you didn´t know you had" The hedgehog practically screamed on your face.

"I´m sorry, did you just say cousin?" You asked at him, but you didn´t even let him speak as you turned towards your uncle "Is this why you said kids? Are these... things..."

"Rude" Said, well, Sonic, you guessed.

"...Your kids? And you didn´t tell me?" You couldn´t quite tell if you were feeling offended or confused, there was a sort of thightness on your chest, as if you were hugely overlooking a very important detail.

"Why did you not tell me? And why are there so many of them? What, do you collect them like fucking pokemons or something?" Now you did know what you were feeling.

Angry, hot with anger. You could feel it in every vein on your body, your eyes couldn´t focus on anything, until you found a victim, still sitting right at your side.

"I asked you for help! I thought he was dying and you didn´t even think about telling me that you had seen others like him?!" you screamed at your aunt Maddie as you got up from the couch.

"I didn´t know what to do, he is dangerous!" She quipped right back.

"That´s not your call to make, I would have handled it if you had said something" that was probably one of the first times in your life you had disagreed with your aunt.

Shadow wasn´t dangerous. Sure, he was hurt and he didn´t really trust you, but that didn´t make him dangerous.

"HE TRIED TO KILL TOM!"

...

...

"What?"

Your voice had came out so low you weren´t sure the words had actually left your mouth at all.

"He did, that´s why he has a broken arm" Maddie explained as she grabbed your hands on hers.

"But he´s not bad..."

"He has the ability to be..." she stated as if it was an unmistakable truth.

"Maddie that´s enough, we talked about this" Finally Tom approached the two of you, he put his working arm in between you and stared sternly at his wife. Yet she kept looking at you in your eyes.

"But it doesn´t matter anymore, he´s gone" She tried to smile reassuringly.

"What?" Suddenly the hold on your hands felt restrictive "What do you mean? What did you do?!" you ripped your hands of of hers.

"I-I, nothing, I didn´t do nothing, he was gone when I went looking for you" She seemed shocked at your harsh reaction.

Dread filled your entire body, it had drenched you in an awful way, freezing you from head to toes. A sound left your lips, it wasn´t quite a word, more like a strained gasp.

And the you ran.

You didn´t hear your aunt calling for you as you left the house, or the little yellow fox asking "What is going on?", all you could be aware of was the blood pumping through your legs and your heart beating wildly in your chest. There was a ringing in your ears too, that damned type of ringing that appears when the world is too quiet.

The run to your house felt awfully longer than the walk you had taken that morning, and once you finally arrived your brain was working too fast, trying to focus on everything at once.

From afar the house had looked normal, but the door was open, the lock busted. Your heart had left your chest altogether and was then beating on your throat.

You walked in slowly, the speed you had taken on the run dead as you had stepped on the welcome mat. A voice came from the living room, so you went there first.

The wooden floor creaked with every step you took, and anticipation built in your chest. But there was no one there, only the TV on, broadcasting a Mexican novela.

With every second you gained speed as you ran all the way to the bedroom you were staying in, the one Shadow had taken as his own while he healed.

The bed was neatly done and everything was on place, except the window, which was wide open

"SHADOW! SHADOW WERE ARE YOU?!" you screamed through the window, looking for signs of him on the backyard.

Something warm dripped onto your hand, and, as you touched your face trying to figure out were the liquid had came from, you felt traces of tears painting your cheeks.

You kept calling out his name as you searched around the house, your voice growing weaker and more broken as you didn't find him.

Finally you reached the living room once again, and you collapsed on the couch. You tried to hold your hands together so that they wouldn't shake.

A creak sounded from the window behind you; you turned around.

There he was standing, looking straight at your eyes with his usual frown. He exchanged looks with you for a few seconds and when you finally moved he was too confused as to move.

You jumped over the couch and hugged him. The hard floor digged onto your knees and your body felt tired, but he was alright which was what mattered.

"Where where you?" You questioned him.

"A woman came by, I did what you told me, I hid". His frown looked almost concerned then, as if he was worried he had done something wrong.

"Yes, you did well" You laughed and broke the hug, choosing to keep your hands on his shoulders instead "Maybe a little too well".

"I'm..."

"The ultimate life form? Yeah, yeah, I know"

"No, I'm... Sorry, that I worried you" he stared at the ground.

You almost choked on a sob at his words.

"It's okay, I was just worried you were hurt, there's nothing to apologize for sweetie" you explained as you held his face in your hands.

What a twist your life had taken.

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing@pooplyface1423@kyouzki@moon-trash1507@shadowforlive

[gingiesworld]

In The Stars (1/?)

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of death

Word Count: 5.7k

Every Sunday, without fail, Y/N would spend a few hours at their wife's grave, telling her about their week, putting fresh daisies in the pot, Jean's favourite flower. That would always be before they would head over to Pietro Maximoff's for Sunday dinner.

The two had met in their first year of college, being roommates and soon becoming fast friends. It was Pietro who had introduced Y/N to Jean at a college party they had both attended, soon falling head over heels for her. They had been together all through the last three years of college, Y/N then proposing after they had graduated, knowing they had saw a future with her.

Once Y/N had arrived at Pietro's, they let themselve's inside, soon hearing voices coming from the living room. They could hear both Pietro and his wife, Monica talking with another. Approaching the living room with caution, after taking off their jacket and hanging it up, they stood in the doorway, their eyes landed on an unfamiliar woman with brown hair. Although they had recognised her from some pictures dotted around Pietro's house.

"Y/N! I didn't hear you come in." Pietro beamed as they stepped inside. "Here." He handed them a beer from the table as Y/N sat down in an arm chair. "Y/N, this is Wanda, my younger sister." He introduced them.

"We're the same age." Wanda told him, only getting waved off by her brother.

"I was born first." He reminded her.

"Wow, 12 minutes before." She told him, a teasing undertone in her voice before turning to Y/N. "It's nice to meet you, I've heard so much about you over the years."

"All good, I hope." Y/N smiled gently, taking her hand in a friendly shake.

"Of course it was." She told them.

"Well, someone had to keep him out of trouble." Monica spoke up, taking a sip of her wine as Pietro feigned hurt.

"I was a model student." He protested, making the other three laugh.

"Really, like that time you ran naked around the quad at lunch time?" Y/N told him, bringing up one of the many fond memories they had of their college years.

"Well, I managed to win over my wife with that." He smirked triumphantly.

"No, I just felt sorry for you." She told him, nudging his shoulder. Earning a low wow from her husband. It was in these moments that they shared with their best friends that helped them after their mornings at the cemetary. Giving them a sense of familiarity and comfort that they needed during the last couple of years since the accident.

"You're married?" Wanda questioned, referring to their wedding ring, which they had refused to take off. She never noticed Pietro's head shake as Y/N smiled down at their finger.

"I was." They answered her honestly. "She uh." Y/N played with their wedding ring as they thought of Jean. "My Jean passed away."

"I'm so sorry." Wanda apologised, instantly feeling a regret of asking them, not knowing how raw the loss was.

"Hey, Wands." Pietro spoke up. "I need your help a moment, with dinner." Wanda nodded as she soon followed her brother to the kitchen.

"I thought we were ordering?" She asked him, raising a confused brow.

"We are." He told her. "It's just that, Y/N comes here every Sunday after they visit Jean. They always spend every Sunday morning with her."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make them uncomfortable." She told him. "I was just curious."

"I know, it's okay." He told her. "It was two years ago, but it's still kind of pretty raw. They were together since our Sophmore year at college." Wanda nodded, listening as her brother spoke before they were interrupted.

"Hey, I'm going to head home." Y/N told the two.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Wanda started, Y/N gave her a kind smile, waving her off.

"You didn't." They told her. "I've just had a really long week and I'm exhausted." They spoke calmly, although they were a swirl of emotions inside.

"We can always have dinner another night?" Pietro suggested.

"Of course." They agreed. "How about we have it at mine? On Wednesday evening?"

"Sounds like a plan." Pietro agreed.

"Of course you're welcome to come too, Wanda." Y/N told her.

"I'd love to." Wanda smiled, agreeing easily. Wanting to know more about her twins life since she had went to Oxford University, and living in London for years after her graduating. Y/N then bid their goodbyes before they headed home.

"I guess now it's just the three of us." Monica said as she entered the kitchen, refilling her glass. "So, how is Vis?" Monica asked Wanda, who tensed at his name.

"He is good, happy with the woman I caught him with." She answered, anger seeping through her tone.

"Is that why you moved back here?" Pietro asked her. "Or is there more?"

"Well, I miss you and our parents." She told him. "And I had no reason left to stay in London anymore." She helped herself to more wine. "Although, I am thinking of starting a new book. I have some ideas I have been playing with, but it's something I am excited about."

"That's amazing." Pietro beamed. "But I'll still kick his British ass if I ever meet him." The two girls laughed before they all retreated to the living room, deciding on where they were ordering from.

--

As the days passed and Wednesday arrived, Y/N had prepared everything for the dinner. Cooking was always something they had loved to do, finding a sense of calm in the daily task. Although, they settled on pasta carbonara as they had a tiring day at work, and needing to shower.

"Hey." They greeted the three as they answered the door, allowing them inside.

"It smells nice in here." Monica complimented them, before turning to Pietro. "Why don't you ever cook for me?"

"Unless you want salmonella or a frozen pizza that's still frozen." Y/N teased, recalling their time together as roommates.

"I thought he could cook." Monica gasped, recalling the home dates they had.

"No, it was me hiding in the kitchen." Y/N told her, leading them to the dining room. "I remember he once tried to roast a chicken, it was burnt but still raw."

"The oven was broken." He whined, making them all laugh.

"He was always like that, even when we were kids." Wanda told them. "He once set the toaster on fire while making toast."

"It's like he has a special talent." Y/N laughed before they headed to the kitchen, Wanda following behind them to help bring through the drinks and food while Pietro mumbled incoherently. The four of them shared small conversations as they ate, before Y/N decided to ask Wanda a question. "I hear that you're a writer?" They asked her.

"I am." She answered, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I am currently working on a novel idea, just trying to work out the plot and plan it out."

"Pietro told me you have also wrote some poetry?" They asked her.

"I used to." She told them. "But unfortunately it wasn't good enough."

"Well, I'm sure whoever said that, is completely wrong and untalented." They told her, Wanda smiled shyly as she sipped her wine.

"Y/N here runs their own business." Pietro told Wanda proudly.

"I wouldn't call it that." Y/N told him.

"I would, you have your own employees who work for you." Monica told them. "You built it from the ground after finishing college before doing a course in construction."

"That's amazing." Wanda told them with a smile.

"Jean helped me a lot with it." They tried to wave them off, not sure how to take the proud compliments. "She used to take care of the office work so I could still head out on jobs." They smiled sadly before they started to gather the empty plates, Wanda then stood up and followed them, helping with dishes.

"I know that sometimes it's sad to talk about her, especially with her not being here with you." Wanda spoke tenderly, watching as they rinsed the plates. "But it does help sometimes, to remember all of the good that she brought into your life."

"She was everything that was good with my life." Y/N told her honestly. Wanda could see the pain and grief in their eyes, but their was also a glimpse of comfort as they spoke.

"It is best to have loved and lost, than to have never known true happiness." Wanda told them. "The pain that is left behind will always be there, but so will all of those memories you both had created together."

"She was my happiness." Y/N told her honestly. "I loved everything about her. Her voice, her laugh, I loved it whenever she sang, although she couldn't really sing, but seeing her happy whenever she was lost in a song." They smiled at the memories, unaware that both Monica and Pietro were eaves dropping. "She brought me so much comfort and happiness, and I fell more and more in love with her every moment I spent with her. Even when she would try to fight me to get me to drink water." They laughed lightly, unaware of the growing ease within as they spoke. "Jean was an amazing and remarkable woman, she was serious but she had a playful childish side. She was just perfect and I was lucky that I got to call her my wife, my soulmate. She was my forever." They told Wanda, a tear falling from their eye. "Thank you." Y/N whispered as they wiped their eyes.

"For what?" She asked them.

"For listening." They told her. "It's not easy for me to talk about her, but I don't know why I even told you about her." They looked at their hands, confusion etched onto their face.

"You do know why." Wanda told them. "You don't quite know it yet, but you." She then moved towards them. "So, what's for desert?" She asked, raising her brow as Y/N chuckled at her.

"Well, I didn't have time to make one from scratch." They answered her as they moved towards their freezer, taking out four small pots of ice cream. "So, I improvised, besides I know Pietro's favourite is cookie dough."

"It's like he's constantly going through a break up." Wanda joked, grabbing the spoons as the two laughed, Monica stifled her own as Pietro scowled, making their way back to their seats. Both Wanda and Y/N had joined them shortly after. The four of them enjoyed the rest of their evening, full of laughter and more digs at Pietro and his lack of cooking skills. 

"Well, I guess we should head out." Pietro said, standing up from his seat since they had since moved to the living room. "Monica has work in the morning, and we know that if she doesn't get enough sleep, I'm the one who suffers when she comes home." 

"Of course." Y/N smiled, following the three of them as they made their way towards the front door. Pietro and Monica had hugged them, bidding their goodbyes before Wanda. 

"Thank you for tonight." She told them, a smile on her face as the two were being watched. 

"No, thank you, Wanda." They told her sincerely. "It felt great to finally talk about Jean."

"Well, if you ever want to talk about Jean, or anything at all, I'm here." She told them with a soft smile. "Besides, it's nice to make a new friend in a new place." 

"I'm glad we can be friends." Y/N smiled gently, Wanda's smile matching theirs. "I hope we can hang out again sometime, I especially could do with more embarrassing stories of Piet, and I'll even give tell you some too." 

"You have a got a deal." Wanda agreed, the idea of having more ways to tease her brother extremely appealing. She then gave them a short hug before bidding her goodbye and making her way to the car, Y/N waving them off as they drove away. Once they had locked the door, they made their way to the garage, the smell of sawdust and wood filling their senses as they moved to the rocking chair they was currently working on. Finding a sense of peace and comfort at the task, humming to the song that was on the radio as they worked. 

--

As time went on, Y/N still remained with their Sunday routine, although spending more time with Wanda had become a part of their life. A fresh bouquet of daisies in their hand as they approached Jean's grave, clearing out the old flowers before placing the new ones, and wiping down the head stone before they took a seat on the soil, not caring that it was still damp from the previous night's rainfall. A smile on their face as they looked at her photo, it was one of their favourite pictures of her, the smile that she hated which had always made their heart skip a beat. 

"Hey, I'm back again." They smiled as they started talking. "I met Piet's sister a few weeks ago as you know, but we have also been hanging out together more and more. She is the complete opposite to him, she's funny too." Y/N continued to talk to her about their outings with Wanda, although they could feel a twinge of guilt, realising that Wanda had managed to make her way into their heart as Jean had done before. "But I don't want to forget you." They whispered, their eyes stinging with unshed tears. "I can't explain what I feel when I'm with Wanda, I know we're both friends but I can't help thinking that maybe there could be something more. Is it wrong?" 

"It's not wrong." A voice spoke from beside them, their attention turning to the next plot. "You're still only young, and it's okay to move on, that is what she would want for you." They gestured towards Jean's headstone. "I'm Charles." He held out his hand for them, Y/N stood up, wiping their hands on their trousers before shaking it. 

"Y/N." They introduced themselves. "But why does it feel wrong?" They asked him. 

"Because Jean still holds a place in your heart." He told them. "Moving on doesn't mean you're replacing her, it's just that you have so much love inside of you that their is still some love left to share." Y/N listened to him. "Jean would want you to be happy, and she would want you to continue to live your life, whether that be with someone new." He gave them a gentle smile. "When I lost my first wife, I was lost, I thought that there was no hope left, I was ready to give up and then I met Connie, she broke through to me, she made me feel something again and I didn't feel the pain of loss as strong as before." 

"So, it's okay to move on?" They questioned, still unsure. 

"Of course it is, as long as you are ready to yourself." He told them. "I have known a lot of people throw themselves into meaningless physical relationships after losing someone, and that never ends well. The shame along with the grief can be overwhelming, so you have to know yourself if you are ready, if your heart has healed before you do move on." He patted their shoulder. "But only you can know that, only you can know if you are ready." 

After their encounter at the cemetery, they had decided to miss having dinner at Pietro's, unsure about seeing Wanda, confused about their feelings. They made their way back home, and headed towards their garage, putting the finishing touches on the rocking chair before varnishing. It was a surprise gift they were making for Pietro and Monica, knowing that the two were trying for a baby. 

"Hey." A voice interrupted them, turning off the radio as they concentrated on the varnishing. "How long have you been working on this?"

"A few months." Y/N mumbled, finishing the first coat before putting the brush down, turning around to see their younger sister. "How's Lena?" They asked her, moving to wash their hands in the sink before moving to hug Kate. 

"She's good." She answered them, returning the hug. "Who's the chair for?" She questioned. 

"Still full of questioned I see." They mused, a smirk on their face. 

"Yes I am, now answer it." She told them, a proud smile on her face. 

"Pietro and Monica." They answered, the two heading towards the kitchen. "They're trying for a baby, and I thought it would be nice for the nursery." They grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge. "Although, they don't know about it yet." The two moved towards the living room, sitting down on the sofa. "How was Russia?" They asked her. "You went to visit Lena's parents right?" 

"We did." She answered, reaching for the remote. "It was cold, very cold but it was nice for Lena to see them, I know she misses them both a lot, and Natasha can be a little bit too overprotective." 

"Well, she is her baby sister." Y/N told her with an understanding. 

"Not of Lena, she's overprotective of me." Kate told them. "She claims she doesn't care about Lena."

"Believe me, she cares about Lena more than she will tell you." They told her. "It's how siblings are, you should know this." 

"Yeah, yeah." She waved them off, looking through Netflix for something to watch. "Well, what are you ordering for dinner?" She asked as she soon settled on Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. 

"What?" They chuckled as Kate turned to face them. 

"Food. Things you eat." She told them. "I'm feeling like pizza." She told them matter of factly. "You should order pizza." Y/N only chuckled before they reached for their phone, opening the app and ordering their pizza as the movie started. As the movie went on, Kate then turned to Y/N, observing them. 

"What?" They asked as they felt her eyes on them.

"You seem different." She told them, watching as they turned to face her. "It's a good different." Before they could respond, the doorbell rang, prompting them to get up and get their pizzas, setting them both on the coffee table as Kate sighed contently at the smell. "You seem happier, like you aren't in pain as much as before." 

"I am happier." They answered her honestly. "I feel lighter, like I'm not drowning in grief as I once was." 

"That's good." She smiled softly. "You deserve to be happy, Jean would want that for you." 

"I know, I have already been told that once today." They told her, recounting their visit to the cemetery, Kate listening to them and nodding in agreement with Charles, but not pushing them for more details. The night went on as the two watched multiple movies, until Kate had fell asleep on the couch, prompting Y/N to carry her to the guest bedroom, tucking her in once they removed her shoes before closing the door behind them as they left. Checking that they had locked up before they retreated to their own room, doing their night time routine before they climbed under the covers. Reaching for their phone, seeing a message from Wanda from earlier, typing out a quick message before they lay back, staring at the ceiling before their phone pinged with another message from Wanda. 

Wanda: You're still awake? 

Y/N: No, I can sleep text :)

Wanda chuckled at the humour as she lay in the bed of her brother's guest bedroom, enjoying this side of Y/N. She was unsure of what to text back, that was until her phone rang, Y/N's name showing up on her screen. 

"Hey." She greeted breathlessly as she answered, unable to fight the smile on her face. "Are you okay?" She asked them. 

"I am." They answered her truthfully. "For the first time in a long time, I am okay. How are you? Are you okay?" They asked her, curious as to why she was still awake so late. 

"I am." She told them, pausing slightly before adding. "I think."

"What's happened?" They asked her, she could hear the rustle of their sheets as they moved to sit up, leaning up against their headboard giving her their full attention. Listening as she laughed slightly, before she let out a shaky sigh. 

"It's just Vis." She told them, unsure if she should continue. 

"What did he do?" They asked her, although the mention of her ex made them feel both uncomfortable and angry. 

"He texted me, he somehow found my number and told me he is moving here." She told them, Y/N remained silent allowing her to continue. "He had been promoted but it comes with a transfer to the New York branch, and he wants to meet up with me. I don't know what to do." She spoke barely above a whisper. 

"Did you love him?" They asked her tenderly. 

"I did, but he hurt me and I don't exactly know who he is anymore." She told them honestly. "I don't want to go back to being the woman he continuously tore down, I have been happier since leaving him behind in London, since being here with my brother and since meeting you." 

"Then you don't have to meet with him." Y/N told her. "You are your own woman, you are allowed to make your own decisions and make your own way in life. Just because he is moving here, doesn't mean that you have to see him or get back with him. You should do what you feel is right for you in your heart, what you know will make you happy." Wanda listened as they spoke, a small smile playing on her lips. "You create your own path in life, you get to decide who you want to be in your life to celebrate your successes."

"So, I shouldn't meet up with him?" She asked them. 

"You already know the answer to that, Wanda." They told her softly. "The answer is in your heart or that feeling in your gut. The one person you should always trust is yourself." 

"Thank you." She whispered, wiping a tear that had fell, knowing that they were right. "Would you stay with me, at least until I fall asleep?" She asked, her voice small as she was afraid of what their answer was going to be. 

"Of course I will." They told her, reaching over to put their phone on charge and on speaker, resting it on the night stand, not knowing that Wanda was repeating the same actions before getting comfier under her blankets. Wanda listened as Y/N told her about their surprise visit from their younger sister, her eyes slowly growing heavier before she succumbed to sleep. Once Y/N had heard a small snore, they smiled as they settled themselves, closing their eyes and sleeping. 

--

Since that night, Wanda had distanced herself from Y/N, she was ashamed of her actions and her request for Y/N to stay with her while she slept, she had even ended the call abruptly when she woke before Y/N. Although Y/N was confused, with their growing feelings for her and the way she hadn't really spoken to them since that night, but they had respect for her. So, they decided to respect the space she had clearly wanted, even though it had seemed to hurt them slightly. 

"Hey." Pietro spoke up, entering Y/N's house and seeing them on sat on the sofa, their laptop open as they finished up some office work for their business. "Are you okay?" He questioned as he sat in an armchair, causing Y/N to look up briefly. 

"Yeah, I'm okay." They answered him, returning their gaze back to their task at hand. "Are you okay?" Pietro sighed, seeing a change in their behaviour, like they were going backwards from when they had lost Jean. 

"I'm okay, I'm just worried about you." He told them, watching as they moved the computer from their lap and getting on their feet.

"You don't need to be, I'm fine." They said as they walked towards the kitchen, grabbing a bottle from the fridge.

"Are you sure?" Pietro asked as he followed them. "You haven't really spoke to anyone in a while, nor have you came over for Sunday dinner." He watched as Y/N sighed, putting the bottle down on the counter.

"I've got some paper work to do." They told him, turning to face him, their expression void of any emotion.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Pietro asked, a gentle smile on his face. "But I will never push you, and I will always be a call away."

"Thank you." Y/N replied sincerely. "I really appreciate it." They then picked up their bottle, making their way back into the livint room. Pietro sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get much of a conversation out of them, deciding to bid his goodbye. Y/N then leaned their head back on the sofa, rubbing their face with a groan. They felt bad for blocking him out, but they didn't want to press for information on Wanda, respecting her space.

Although, Wanda wasn't much better, she had spent most of her time hold up in the guest room, her laptop on her lap as she sat in the dark, the Dick Van Dyke show was playing in the background.

"Hey." Pietro knocked lightly on the door, gaining his sister's attention. "I made some tea." He approached her, handing her her cup of tea, watching as she inhaled the warm scent before taking her first sip.

"Thank you." She thanked him, holding the cup between her hands.

"Are you okay?" He asked her, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Yeah." She answered him, although he could tell she was lying.

"You know, you can always talk to me if ever you need." He told her, not wanting to push her, she gave him a small smile before taking another sip before placing the cup on the nightstand. "So, what are you working on?" He asked her, intrigued about her story ideas.

"I'm just working on a plan for my next book." She told him. "Hopefully it will be better than my previous work."

"All of your work is amazing." He told her proudly.

"No, it isn't." She whispered sadly, the words of her ex flashing through her mind about her poetry and previous novels. "That's what he always said."

"He as in Vis?" Pietro questioned, watching as Wanda only nodded, closing her laptop. "He is completely wrong, you sold thousands of copies, all he got was a job at his family's business. You worked hard to get your works out there, you did that all on your own." He opened his arms for her, watching as she quickly dived in for a hug. "He is nothing but a piece of shit, and you deserve to find someone who will love you for who you are, someone who will encourage you to write every idea that comes into your mind."

"But, what if I don't find them?" She questioned, lifting her head, Pietro wiped the tears that had fell.

"You will." He told her, a gentle smile on his face. "We don't choose love, it finds us, and it will happen when you least expect it."

"Thank you." She spoke tiredly, laying back on her pillows, watching as Pietro moved her laptop over to the desk.

"Get some rest." He told her, covering her with the covers, placing a kiss to the top of her head. "We'll be downstairs if you need anything." With that, he left with a soft click of the door. Wanda closed her eyes, allowing herself to succumb to sleep.

The garden was full of laughter and children running around playing. Wanda soon stepped out into the yard, approaching the figure who was stood at the grill, two cold beers in her hand.

"Here." She handed them the beer, which they had taken thankfully. "How are the steaks?"

"Cooking nicely." They answered her, a smile on their face as they took a sip of beer. "The boys, hotdogs are ready for when they've worked up more of an appetite."

"Boys!" Wanda yelled, turning to face the two troublemakers, watching as they both froze in place. "Hotdogs are ready." She told them, grabbing the two plates and adding corn and some potato waffles for them.

"Yayyy!!" The twins squealed excitedly, grabbing their plates before heading over towards the table to settle down and eat. Wanda watched the two with a full heart, a bright smile on her face before she turned to Y/N.

Wanda jolted awake, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, glancing at the time and seeing it was a little after 1am. Getting herself out of bed, not really bothering about changing as she grabbed her shoes and coat, heading downstairs and running straight towards the exit. She had been having the same dream every night, but this time she recognised the other person with her.

She knew exactly what she had wanted, she knew exactly who she had wanted, after trying to deny her growing feelings for so long since that night. She had no idea how long it took her to walk to Y/N's, but she soon found herself stood on their front porch, her heart hammering against her rib cage as she knocked on the door. Soon hearing shuffling feet on the other side, followed by the sound of locks before the door opened.

"Wanda?" Y/N questioned, in shock that she was finally stood before them. "What are you doing here?"

"I just needed to see you." She told them, unaware of how Y/N's heart was racing too. "Can I come in?" She asked shyly, shuffling on her feet.

"Oh yeah, of course." They stepped aside, allowing the warmth of the house to wrap around her form. The door closed softly, the two stood their quietly before Y/N spoke up again. "Would you like a coffee?" They asked, gesturing towards the kitchen.

"Please." She whispered, soon following them further inside, she was looking around, seeing some changes to the decor. "Are you redecorating?" She asked as she leaned against the counter, watching as Y/N brewed up a fresh pot of coffee.

"I am." They answered, turning to face her. "I figured it was time for a change, especially since."

"I know." She spoke softly, noticing their swift change in demeanor, knowing they were thinking about Jean. "I uh, I should apologise." She started, ignoring Y/N trying to wave her off. "I shouldn't have disappeared the way I did, especially after you helped me."

"Hey." They spoke softly, stopping her ramble. "It's okay, I understand how hard it can be to be vulnerable with someone again, especially after everything." They poured out two cups, handing one to Wanda before holding their own between their hands. "I'll be honest, I have struggled with that myself, with letting someone else in since Jean was the last person to break down my walls." Wanda took a sip of her coffee, watching as Y/N looked inside their own cup. "That was until you came along."

"What?" Wanda whispered, her heart beating impossibly faster.

"I can't really explain it, but you made me feel something more again." They started nervously. "It's extremely easy to talk to you, I feel a comfort and safety with you that I haven't felt in a long time." They chuckled as they placed their cup down on the counter. "I have tried so hard as to not forget the love I had for Jean, or the love we shared, I actually gave up on love and happiness, because she was it for me." They chuckled lightly, their eyes soon finding Wanda's green ones. "That was until I met you."

"Y/N." Wanda whispered, Y/N shook their head.

"Please let me get this out." They pleaded, Wanda only nodded, her own cup lost on the counter. "I thought I was never going to feel anything again, but I feel something for you, and it goes deeper than I ever thought it would." They took a deep breath before continuing. "I don't exactly have words for how I feel right now, but I want to figure it out, if that is also something that you would want too."

"Yes." Wanda breathed out, tears in her eyes which Y/N had wasted no time in moving forward and wiping them away, but leaving their hands resting softly on her cheeks. "I want to explore what this is too, because I can't explain what it is that I feel either, but I have been having the same dream, over and over again, but it wasn't until just now that I have finally realised that it was you." She watched as a smile formed on their face. "It's you who my heart calls for."

"Can I kiss you?" They asked softly, looking deeply in her eyes, only finding comfort and certainty.

"Please." She breathed out, Y/N soon closed the gap, pressing their lips against hers softly, Wanda's hands held their wrists softly, smiling into the kiss, breaking it and Y/N rested their head against hers.

"Stay the night with me?" They asked her, watching as her eyes slowly opened and met their own.

"Of course." She agreed easily, Y/N took her hand, leading her up the stairs towards the master bedroom, the two soon lay down, Y/N wasted no time in wrapping their arms around her, holding her close as the two soon fell into a deep slumber.

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

[mamayura]

I like how both Adrien's AND Marinette's grandparents' comments on Adrien's looks in "Werepapas" is used as a way to tell the viewer about their relation to him

Gina:

Gina as Marinette's grandmother has no relation to Adrien and she mostly just knows him as a model. So that's all she really sees him as. For his looks and that Marinette likes him.

While it is shallow, Gina is supposed to be the general public with that statement and it serves as a nice contrast to afterwards put the comments from Adrien's grandparents into perspective.

Gabrielle:

Gabrielle's reaction is actually my favourite, but Emil's needs more elaboration, so I'll start with her.

What I ADORE about her comment is that it manages to imply so much dimension to her as Adrien's grandmother in such little words. The Grassettes never got to meet Adrien til now after their son's death. While Gabriel seems to have had a soft spot for his mother (he named himself after her), he seemed to have been uncompromising that he doesn't want them anywhere near him and the family he himself founded.

So Gabrielle saying "You're even more darling in person" very directly implies that, at minimum, she followed Adrien's public model carrier because that's the only way she had to see her grandchild. I wouldn't be surprised if over the years Gabrielle has been collecting a lot of the magazines that have Adrien's model photos in them. She really seemed to have awaited this day with all her heart.

It is such a SWEET comment that captures an excluded grandparent's desire to finally meet their grandchild so unbelievably well and I TRULY wished Gabrielle had gotten to do much more in the episode.

Emil:

And last but not least, the source of Emilie's questionable taste in men.

For as little benefit of a doubt as I wanna give this man, I won't deny that his characterization was phenomenal even if the ending struggled hard in making his turnaround not come across as a convenient cop-out.

This moment of Emil's eyes softening in sympathy and sadness, as he's seeing Adrien for the first time, is one of several strong hints all through the episode that Emil genuinely has a heart underneath his harsh and abusive superiority complex. His turnaround didn't coming out of nowhere, it just wasn't very well executed in the end (not to mention that it is getting annoying how much effort this show puts into fleshing out and redeeming abusive men and fathers).

My reading of his look and words here is that Emil, logically, immediately saw how much Adrien resembles his mother Emilie, Emil's daughter who wanted nothing to do with her family anymore and now is dead.

The way I see it, Emil is the same kind of abuser as Gabriel was. Meaning, he actually DOES feel love and affection for the family member he abuses, he just has gone so far with it and for so long that doubling down is way easier than facing what you've done to those you love. So you keep going and only get worse.

In my opinion, when Emil saw Adrien he also saw his wife Millie and his daughters Emilie and Amilie in him and that automatically projected all of Emil's complex emotions for them and his abusive behavior towards them onto Adrien too. Which was about to continue the vicious circle once more.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Red Mercedes

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: Perfect married life sometimes hides the rotten truth of lies.

Warnings: cheating, slight manipulation, George getting what’s his at all cost, curse words and smut implication

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: After a frustrating week of not having any good ideas, I had a dream, so I finally had something to pour my heart into. It was so intense that it didn't let me eat my lunch, how fast my fingers drummed at the keyboard and my thoughts flew out of my brain. Enjoy it! :) wanted to include my favorite pregnancy trope, but i decided to not go that way this time

———

“Dad, I’m trying to tell you that mum is acting weird.” Your twelve year old son was travelling with George to Cayman Island for this event he was invited to, to speak about his ongoing career path as a leading F1 champion. 

George glanced at him, his hands gripping the steering wheel, regally upset about the fact that even your son noticed that something isn't right with your marriage.

“Mum is just tired. That’s all.” he tried to brush it off, but he knew. 

“You know, dad, I’m not stupid. I saw her with some man a week ago, sitting at the restaurant when we were out on a bike with boys. She was smiling at him like… Well, not like she’s smiling at you.” his son continued to ponder with his thoughts, pouring his mind out, making George feel uneasy. Pulling over at the hotel they were supposed to stay at, engine off, he turned his body to face his son.

“Buddy, I know that you love your mom, hell, who could not love her.. But she’s- it’s just a phase. I’m gonna figure it out, and you have nothing to worry about.” he tried to reassure him with his soft smile, his eyes betraying him, reflecting the weight of the growing lies.

———

“I see that you’re here with your son, he grew so much throughout the years, aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna be after you soon, you know, with racing and stuff?” 

George chuckled, moving his gaze at his giggling son in the first row, his sweaty palm wrapped around the microphone. “Well, there is the possibility, but his hobbies are different. He’s much more of a cyclist, so I think that Tadej Pogacar should be scared of having another rival.” 

“Oh, that’s great! Guess the Russell’s family is spreading through the field of sports. It’s a shame that your wife isn’t here with us, we had planned to have a family photo shoot for you, also spending some time on the yacht with the staff here.” 

George was professional at keeping his composure, so he just chuckled again, looking at the crowd of people in the small room.

“We can do that anyway, we don’t need my wife for that. She’s busy with some of her other projects, so…” 

Everybody seemed to be happy about it, not noticing the slight frown on George’s face and his son’s.

You were staying at home in Monaco, texting with your lover. Your naive brain was living in an illusion that nobody knows, you sneaking around with someone else, secret meetings at the old restaurant on the other side of the town, your red luxurious Mercedes parked in front of it very often. You were really dumb in some aspects and being so careless about getting after your own desires, you hurt your family in the process.

All those years of your marriage you heard it around you all the time, how George is a gentleman, kind guy, loving and caring husband and father, how every other woman would die for having him just for at least five minutes. But nobody saw that toll that had an impact on you, your life when you fell pregnant unexpectedly, and how George married you just because of it. Feeding you with all those empty promises, but leaving you alone through all that maternity shit because he was at the peak of his career while you were breastfeeding his restless son at night.

Yeah, there were times you were genuinely happy as a family, somewhere between the three to ten years of your son, George was more present, you accompanied him at races from time to time, depending on how his and your parents were willing to look after your kid. 

But the last two years felt like a nightmare, because George won another two championships after five years of no luck, his fans being literally everywhere, even breaking into your home. You spent a lot of time on the go, changing your location and you grew tired of this. Intimity between you and George was long gone, and you yearned for something he couldn’t give you, the tension, secrecy and passion. Even if it meant to destroy everything you have.

———

Darkness overtook the docks in Monaco, rain washing away the summer heat wave. George stood at the huge ass window of your penthouse, sipping on his whiskey, even though he did not favour the liquid that much, he got used to it from time to time. Your son was away for the holiday cycling camp, and with summer break in F1, it left him home alone with the lingering scent of your expensive perfume you saved for your not so secret lover. His mind wandered over divorce, but he was too prideful to let it happen. He didn’t care about your needs, shameful desires, he wanted to keep his family together. Even if it meant to ruin your sweet secret life. And he knew his plan was working the minute you stepped into your home through the threshold, sobbing quietly, with your dress soaked through, droplets of water dripping down your hair. His lips curling into smirk, he took the last sip of his drink, leaving the glass on the coffee table in the living room, walking slowly to the hallway.

You kicked off your heels, running your hands through your wet hair, wiping off your tears along the way, your mascara staining your cheeks. Feeling how your dress is sticking to your body, you let out a frustrated sigh with a whine, finally noticing George standing in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest wearing an unreadable expression.

“What’s the matter baby?” his tone was laced with smugness, he couldn’t hold it back anymore, seeing the mess you were.

“Nothing.” you muttered, trying to walk around him to get to the bathroom, but he was after you.

“You’re clearly distressed. Tell me what happened. You were supposed to have a night out with girls, if I remember correctly?” yeah, he was playing dumb.

“I was. But my car left me in the parking lot, because the smoke started to go out of the engine and I needed to call the towing service and-” you stopped in your rant abruptly as you got to the part you wanted to erase from your memory and you didn’t want to talk about it with George.

“And? Tell me darling.” his tone was firm, demanding, he caged your body against the counter in the bathroom.

You looked up to see his face, locking your gaze with his, reading his mind. He knew. And yet he was still there.

“He left me.” with your head slumped down you whispered feeling deeply ashamed. 

George smiled victoriously as the memory from earlier this week flashed through his mind, him paying that pathetic lover of yours loads of money to leave you, to ruin you, to destroy you.

“Oh baby.” he cooed sweetly, cupping that mascara stained cheeks of yours, listening to your sobs. And that was the last straw and you broke down in tears, all of the suppressed emotions flowing out as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, remorse and guilt building in your heart. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” you whispered into his chest, your tears staining his shirt. 

“Shhh… I’m right here baby. It’s okay.” his fingers brushed through your hair affectionately, making you relax.

“You should be disgusted with me…” 

“Believe me, I was at first. But from your point of view I somehow understood it.” 

“How… How long have you known?”

“Since the first time you giggled at your phone.”

“I thought that I’m good at hiding it.” 

“Oh, you were so naive that I won’t notice. You weren’t even creative at hiding your car properly. That exclusive red shade of it doesn't go unnoticed. Even our son saw you many times.” 

You shuddered when you felt his lips ghosting against your temple. The mention of your son stabbed you through your heart. 

“George, I-” 

“Shhh, darling. Your stupid boyfriend ditched you, so let your husband, the man who truly knows how to devour you, take care of you.” George whispered with a soft hum, his lips pressed under your ear.

The way he talked made you feel ashamed. But it ignited something within you, the lust and desire for him. And it made you curse internally at how dumb you were for the past years.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember who you belong to.” 

After the night to remember when George really took you like a slut you were, listening to your whines and moans, making you tell him how that lover made you feel, what he did to you, he made sure that you won’t escape his embrace again. Watching you sleep beside him, your body covered in love bruises and marks he hasn’t seen on you for months, he brushed the strand of your hair from your face, smiling proudly at how easy you were. All those years he thought you’re this soft and reserved girl who likes vanilla in bed, only to find out that you loved to be cock drunk all the time, overstimulated to the madness to keep your mind from wandering outside of the wedlock. 

“You were so wrong to think that I’d let you go, my beautiful wife…” and his whisper lingered through your sleeping brain like a lullaby.

-

Please don't use my writings without a permission. Pictures found on Pinterest.

Tags: @chilling-seavey

[emmg]

Bees

This piece of unholy crack is for my wife @jainydoe

I want a fic where bellara is emmrich's ward and rook does the whole Look at your dad keeping bees Bellara I'm gonna fuck your dad shtick

"So he, like, adopted you?" 

Bellara gets bonked across the face by a very round, very enthusiastic artifact. "I guess? Kind of? A little bit before I was all grown up." 

Rook pulls a face. "Why?" 

Bellara idly scratches her ear with a wrench. "Oh, you know. Legal things." 

Rook’s face only twists further. "That explains nothing. That is the opposite of explaining. What in the Maker’s name does that even mean?" 

"Oh! Well, see, he was in Tevinter, and I sort of—not on purpose—ended up owing a lot of money. And then the people I owed were, um, very insistent that I give it back. Which was unfortunate, because I didn’t have it. And I told them I didn’t have it, but they still wanted it. So he paid it for me, and now I just use his money. It all worked out!"

Rook's eye twitches. "So… you're his mistress?" 

Bellara blinks. "His what?" 

Rook pinches the bridge of her nose. "Never mind. That was a no." 

"Mphff," Bellara replies as her eyebrows are promptly seared off. 

****

She doesn’t mean to stare at Bellara’s not-dad, but, well, here she is. Staring. Very accidentally, of course. Completely unintentional. It’s just—he’s her colleague now, and Bellara is her friend, and who could have possibly predicted that she’d one day reunite with Bellara only to find out that her not-dad was someone she’d end up working in—er, under—uh, near. In close proximity. Adjacent to. 

At the very least, Rook thinks, the Mourn Watch dresses excellently. Or maybe Emmrich Volkarin just has an aesthetic because the man doesn’t walk—he floats. His coattails are so long and dramatic that every step he takes looks like he’s being ceremoniously carried by the souls of the damned. Which, given the necromancy, is not off the table. 

They’ve been at this for, what, three months now? A season. A quarter of a year. Long enough for her to cycle through every possible thought about him and then loop back around for seconds. 

Oh, he’s so polite and well-spoken, she thought at first, when he shook her hand with all the enthusiasm of a professor greeting a particularly promising student.

Oh, he’s a fucking creep, she thought upon learning he had adopted Bellara under circumstances that sounded alarmingly vague.

Oh, well, maybe not a total menace, she thought after Bellara’s half-baked explanation, which made it sound only mildly suspicious rather than deeply, horrifyingly illegal.

Oh, he smells good, she thought during her first week as he escorted her through the Necropolis, his hand casually redirecting hers away from things that would almost certainly kill her, and books that, to her absolute dismay, were not only sentient but also carnivorous.

Oh, he’s rather suave, she thought over the next few weeks, as he took her through Nevarra City, treated her to a hot drink, and assured her that she was always, always welcome to seek his assistance.

Oh, he’s handsome, she thought immediately after—so immediately that her brain barely had time to pretend it had arrived at the thought by accident. And he’s old enough to be her father, but mostly handsome, and the moustache is unreasonably attractive, and the height is even worse, and she should really, really not be thinking about any of this, and yet here she is, thinking about all of this.

"Rook!" Emmrich exclaims one incredibly random, incredibly uneventful day while she is, unfortunately, very busy looking at his hands. "Bellara tells me you have a particularly sweet tooth!" 

She does not. She would die for pickles. She would haunt this plane for pickles. "Yes," she lies. 

"Splendid!" he says, bringing his hands together and clasping them tightly. "Then you must visit us soon. I have recently come into possession of some wildflower honey—oh, it is exquisite, truly, the product of a most diligent colony. The foragers in particular have demonstrated remarkable efficiency this season, and I suspect the local flora has been unusually accommodating due to the recent shift in temperature." 

"Right, well—" 

"—Which, of course, brings me to the worker bees," he continues. "Fascinating creatures, Rook. Did you know they regulate hive temperature by vibrating their wing muscles? And the social structure! Unparalleled efficiency! Every single one of them understands their role perfectly—unlike certain apprentices I have had the misfortune of instructing." 

Rook opens her mouth. "That's—" 

"—And then there is the queen," he barrels forward, adjusting his cuffs. "A singular force within the colony, capable of laying thousands of eggs in a single day. A most demanding role, truly. Yet she is fed and attended to with such devotion! Such order! Such discipline! If only more societies followed such an impeccable model, we might see—" 

"Bees?" 

Emmrich finally pauses, as if just now remembering she exists. "Indeed, bees. What is so odd about them?" 

A slow nod. "Nothing. Just bees." 

Ah. Yes. Silly Rook. Silly, ridiculous, absolutely pathetic Rook who somehow failed to anticipate that obviously necromancy and beekeeping go hand in hand. Because why wouldn’t the man who commands the dead also spend his free time whispering encouragement to a bunch of little winged bugs? 

She forces a smile. "I'd love to see your bees," she glances at his hands, "Professor Volkarin," she glances at his crotch. 

"Wonderful," Emmrich replies, fingers moving ethusiastically. "Now, then. That is maudlin enough. Shall we return to our work? I regret to inform you that the integument of this dearly departed is well beyond viable preservation. A pity, of course, but such is the nature of decomposition. We cannot embalm everyone, though that does not mean we are without recourse in matters of preservation." 

Rook stares at his mustache. "Mm-hm."

"It is but a matter of methodology. Acid or dermestid beetles?" 

Dear gods—Tevene, elven, Andrastian, it hardly matters—she is, at this very moment, experiencing an overwhelmingly physiological reaction to the prospect of engaging in relations with a man who is, quite literally, vibrating with enthusiasm at the idea of either meticulously excoriating a cadaver or observing the natural efficiency of insect-assisted tissue removal. 

Rook supposes there are worse wet dreams to have, worse ways to absolutely wreck her underwear. But if there are, they’re only marginally worse. A fraction. A hair’s breadth. What could be more concerning than getting embarrassingly, shamefully worked up over a man who talks about corpse preservation with the same breathless enthusiasm most people reserve for poetry? 

She should be ashamed. She should be reconsidering her entire life. Instead, she’s two seconds away from letting him embalm her from the inside out.

****

Bellara's eyebrows have mostly grown back.

She’s eating a sweetroll and staring blankly out the window. “What is your not-dad doing?” 

Bellara shrugs. "Something with bees. Oh, I don’t know. Emmrich’s taken with them. He cycles through hobbies. Manfred’s a big help though! He can’t be stung. Because he’s a skeleton.”

“Yeah,” Rook says, chewing, watching. “I get that.” 

She does not get that. Mostly because she's not really listening. 

This is getting fucking ridiculous. 

Out in the garden, Emmrich Volkarin, a senior necromancer of the Mourn Watch, a man tasked with managing the corpses and souls of the dead, a man whose entire job is death, is delicately tending to his thriving apiary. 

I wish he was fingering me instead of that honeycomb, she thinks. 

And then: Actually, no, I wish he was doing both. 

For the first time in her entire life, she thinks she would gladly, enthusiastically, joyously welcome a yeast infection.

Forget a locket, forget a pressed flower between the pages of a book—this would be her keepsake. A souvenir of her reckless devotion, a parting gift from a lover who, in this scenario, has not gone off to war but rather retreated indoors to alphabetize his collection of sentient, bloodthirsty tomes and, of course, check on his precious bees. And instead of a love letter, she'd get an ungodly amount of discomfort, a medicated salve, and a firm recommendation to avoid sugar for a while.

Or, she could just walk off a pier and let the ocean absolve her of whatever the fuck this is.

"Bellara," Rook says after clearing her throat, because she needs to clear something before she says this, preferably her entire fucking soul. "I don’t really know how to tell you this. But. Like. I’m going to fuck your not-dad." 

Bellara pours herself a cup of tea. "Oh." 

"While his bees watch." 

Bellara chews. Swallows. Looks at the wall. "Yeah, they do that. They're bees." 

****

It doesn’t get that far, mostly because Emmrich is self-conscious. Not about himself, not about his station or his dignity. Instead, he is deeply, tragically preoccupied with the goddamn bees. 

There’s a great deal of nervous glancing, a fair amount of softly muttered hesitation, and at least two instances of him clearing his throat as if that might somehow dissolve the situation entirely. Meanwhile, Rook, having very graciously cornered him in his own garden (while Bellara is mercifully elsewhere), informs him, quite politely, that she is going to ride him until his very narrow hips give out. Or, if that’s too much for his delicate sensibilities, she is happy, delighted, even, to let him make use of those long, elegant fingers instead. 

Or—and—and this is the option they end up going for—she can simply kneel and suck the very essence of his being out through his very academic, very esteemed cock. 

"Ah—yes—well," Emmrich says before trailing off. His hands twitch at his sides, his jaw tightens, but it is the unmistakable way he keeps looking at the beehive, as though his tiny buzzing witnesses might be horrified by this development, that really seals it. 

"Your, ah, interest is certainly reciprocated, my dear," he continues, voice smooth but just a bit strained, "but—oh—perhaps—oh—we might consider a more… traditional approach? A courtship, if you will? A proper engagement with dinner, and wine, and—Maker help me—a door that closes?" 

"Hmpf," Rook says, pulling her mouth off his cock before deciding that, truly, there is nothing worth saying to that. 

She sincerely hopes a bee stings him right in the ass so that he stops waxing poetic about the sanctity of romance and just concentrates on fucking her mouth, this handsome, ridiculous, too-tall, too-suave, insufferably sweet, bee-obsessed, not-dad of a man. 

[kendrysaneela]

“She’s like you. Or you’re like her? I don’t know”

That’s such an interesting line cause it’s true! While the outies and innies have different personalities and different wants and needs they each exist within each other. When Helly is Helly Helena is within her subconscious,when Dylan is Dylan outie Dylan is in his subconscious,when Mark S is Mark Scout Mark S is there in his subconscious. They’re all there. And they’re all influencing each other Irving being the most straightforward version of this what with him seeing the globs of paint sometimes because his outie always paints the same painting over and over.

They each exist within each other’s subconscious. And you can see some of the outies bleeding into the innies as they start to experience similar stuff the outies have experienced! (Except for Helly and Helena Helena is actually the one turning into Helly) I think it goes to show what do memories do how do memories shape a person how much of you is your is subconscious and how much is your conscious memory. Like Mark starts out super peppy and happy and helpful and then as he starts to experience more and grief and slowly starts becoming more similar to outie Mark in the way he handles his grief. But that also makes me wonder. Before Mark Scout experienced all that grief was he similar to Mark S? I bet he was. Or he at least had the potential to be.

And then Irving, his outie is clearly a character that needs meaning and is devoted to a cause. And at first innie Irving finds meaning and finds a cause in like helping to spread the message of Kier and doing his work and following the rules and it’s not until he finds meaning outside of work and finds something new to fight for that he starts to become more similar to who outie Irving seems to be. Someone who is more paranoid and more rebellious. Not to mention both of them enjoying art and both of them painting/drawing the same piece of art over and over again. (Albeit for different reasons)

Then there’s Dylan G who’s outie is kinda insecure because he’s been batted down by life a lot seemingly but he does still clearly love his family he’s just depressed unfortunately and has low self esteem from having a lot of unsuccessful adventures in life clearly. But he does seem to be trying outside and his wife still loves him a lot. Dylan inside starts out confident and convinced his outie is super successful and a body builder and has a bunch of girls on the outside. Then he finds out who he really is outside and then unfortunately. Starts to have some losses inside….and his self confidence starts to fall, and then he learns he has a family and able to be convinced to separate himself from his friends because he cares so much about his family. (I think this will transfer back to him caring a lot about his innie family again) .

Then. There’s Helly. Now Helly is the exact opposite of everyone else and shows that it’s not always innies turning into outies. Helly doesn’t start to turn into Helena. Helena starts to turn into Helly. And the longer Helly exists the further she digs her feet into her rebellion. And the more Helena learns about Helly the more she turns into her. Helena is a woman who has no autonomy who makes none of her own decisions and clearly her whole life has just gone along with what she’s been forced to do without making much of a fuss because that’s what she was raised to do and I assume because the punishments for stepping out of line in the Eagan cult are severe. She has also never experienced love. And I think she’s probably resigned herself to this life. But then she sees Helly. And Helly doesn’t know she’s an Eagan. Helly doesn’t have all the cult programming Helena has, they can’t control Helly with threat of what her father will think or do. So Helly rebels and Helly rebels HARD. And Helly’s first instinct being to rebel is probably because Helena has been trapped her whole life so when Helly woke up on that table locked in that room her subconscious went “WE’RE TRAPPED WE’RE TRAPPED ESCAPE” and Helly didn’t have any of Helena’s fears or knowledge of who she is or what’s happening so she doesn’t repress that rebellion or fear like Helena does so she continues to outwardly rebel.

More than Helena probably ever has or at least has in a while. And she receives love for it from her coworkers. She receives love and she receives friendship and Helena sees all this. She sees this woman this other version of her who’s not weighed down by her name or the expectations put upon it and she sees her become who she’s always wanted to be so she starts to try to become that person. And when she’s pretending to be Helly, she flirts with Mark and she makes Irving little snow seals and she makes fun of her family’s lore and she’s free and she’s taking in love.

I think even with Helena no longer being able to pretend to be Helly, Helena will start to either consciously or unconsciously become Helly outside. I think it’s also why she’s watching Mark at the end of the episode. She’s basically in the middle of an identity crisis right now and she’s probably wondering if outie Mark is the key. What outie Mark is like if he’s anything like innie Mark.

I also think Helly and Helena hating each other is a good illustration of Helena’s hatred toward herself. I think she hates herself because she doesn’t have the courage to be like Helly and to rebel like Helly and to fight for her autonomy like Helly.

And they all do this because they are their innies. Their innies are their outies and their outies are their innies they are each other just if they had different life experiences.

[v4mpire45]

You promised you'd be mine — K. Bakugo

♫︎ Slightly inspired by "The other woman" by Lana Del Rey.

Bakugo x female reader

Synopsis: No matter how hard he tries, he can't erase the memories of the future he once dreamed of with you.

⚠ Trigger warning: Emotional cheating.

Author's note: Please, don't get with, let alone marry anyone when you're still not over your ex.

Is it Valentines Day? Yes. Am I writing something sad? Also yes.

"I’ll be yours forever."

"You promise?"

"Pinkie promise."

But life has a cruel sense of humor, doesn’t it?

Your relationship with Bakugo was everything while it lasted, intense, passionate, unbreakable. Or so you both thought. He never imagined a world where you weren’t his. He had it all mapped out: the two of you going pro together, getting married a year or two later, honeymooning in the Bahamas, and eventually settling down with kids.

But the universe had other plans.

The first cracks were small, disagreements, unspoken frustrations, words left unsaid. Then came the storms, relentless and unforgiving. You both needed things neither of you knew how to ask for. And slowly, inevitably, you drifted apart.

Then the war happened.

Katsuki died. You nearly lost your quirk. And when the dust settled, you both stood on opposite ends of a battlefield, changed beyond recognition. Whatever tether held you together had snapped. Being together wasn’t an option anymore, not when the people you once were had been lost to the war.

But dying had given Katsuki clarity.

In those final moments, when his heart had stopped and everything faded to black, the only regret he had was leaving you behind. The thought of never seeing you again, never living out the future he had dreamed of with you, shattered him more than death itself.

So when he came back, he was determined to fix things. To say everything he hadn’t before. To fight for you.

But he was too late.

You were leaving for America, offered a position too good to refuse. And you took it. There was nothing left for you in Japan. Everyone supported your decision.

Even him.

You left… for eleven damn years.

And Bakugo waited. He really did. But he wasn’t the type to sit around and drown in what-ifs. Life moved forward, and so did he.

He found someone. Someone who loved him deeply, who saw him for who he was, who made him feel whole, at least, that’s what he told himself. She was kind, humble, brilliant. A good woman. A good wife.

But she wasn’t you.

And no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he told himself this could work, it didn’t. Not when he caught himself picturing your face instead of hers. Not when he almost called her by your name.

She wanted to honeymoon in the Bahamas, but he refused, saying it wasn’t a good idea. The truth was, he knew he’d spend the entire trip pretending it was you beside him instead. Maybe she suspected it. Maybe she knew.

Bakugo sat up in bed, the early morning sun casting a soft glow over his wife’s sleeping face. He ran a hand through her hair, guilt gnawing at the edges of his resolve.

She didn’t deserve this.

That’s why, when she woke up, he’d be serving her papers. He’d give her everything, every penny, every asset, anything she wanted. Though, knowing her, she wouldn’t take a damn thing.

A pair of warm arms wrapped around his neck from behind. She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, her body curling into his back.

"Morning, Katsuki."

"Morning." His voice came out quieter than he intended.

He pulled away.

"I need to get ready for work."

He left her in bed, cold and alone.

As he stepped into the shower, he heard it, soft, muffled sniffles coming from the other room.

And he felt like the worst kind of bastard.

But he knew she knew.

This was never going to work.

© 2025 v4mpire45 — All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[talesfromawannabewriter]

Forge my own way

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Adam blinked as his vision was swarmed with light. The sound of voices, all different but familiar, echoes around him.

?: They're beautiful.

?: They're incredible.

?: They're absolutely perfect. Just the way he wanted them to be.

Adam almost gasped at the last voice, he knew that one. It was Sera!

He tried to call out to her, to say something, anything really. To try and understand what was happening. However, for some reason he could not.

Instead, he focused on trying to adjust his eyes to the light. Took a bit of effort but once the blurriness went away, he began to see properly. What he saw almost took his breath away again.

In front of Adam was his first home.

Eden.

Every single flower, every fruit, everything was exactly how he remembered it.

But...how was this possible?

Sera: Hello.

His answer stood in front of him. There standing in front of him were the figures of angels. One particular figure stood out; it was Sera.

She was giving him a soft smile, a smile that he hadn't seen her give him in a very long time. Adam almost forgot what it looked like.

Sera: Let me be the first to welcome you to life. I am Sera, one of the many children of your creator.

Those words, they were the exact same words that she told him the first time the two ever met.

Sera: Your name shall be Adam, and this garden shall be your home.

This was starting to become freaky.

It only got worse when he saw the woman whom he loathed with every part of his soul.

Lilith.

She appeared to revert back to when she still had no shame. In other words, she was naked, butt naked.

Just like he was.

Sera saw him eyeing Lilith and her smile grew.

Sera: This woman here is your wife, and you are her husband. You two shall tend to the garden and name every single thing that lives here.

Adam felt like she was forgetting something.

Sera: You shall also play the role of mother and father, you two shall be fruitful and multiply.

There it was.

Adam felt like he couldn't breathe. This had to be a dream, it just had to! While scanning everything in sight one face in particular made him freeze.

Lucifer.

The angel who betrayed him.

The angel who doomed mankind.

The angel who helped get him killed.

The angel he once called his best friend.

Those shining blue eyes stared at him with curiosity as he started to tremble. Sera saw and shushed him.

Sera: It is alright Adam, you're alright. I understand that this is all so new and overwhelming, but I promise you will adjust. After all, this is your destiny.

Adam wanted nothing more than to spit at that word.

Sera: Now, we must go, but we shall check on you in a few days. Goodbye first man, goodbye first woman.

In a flash, they were all gone, including the arch-traitor. Leaving only him and Lilith. Adam didn't know what to do, he felt like he was in an ocean, and he was drowning.

He needed air, desperately.

Not thinking twice, he turned and ran away from a now confused Lilith.

[binomech]

I keep thinking about the simplicity and kindness with which Severance treats grief, and death. That you can express your pain in a million different ways but ultimately, what it always amounts to is: This person was alive, and I loved them, and now they aren't, and I still love them. Love is the only thing pulling us forward, even as it forces us to look back.

There's a few quotes from the show under the cut. There's not much else to this post, just like there isn't much else to someone you love dying. It hurts, and you miss them. It will always hurt a little bit, and that's okay. That's what remembering does.

Ms. Casey about Mark Scout:

Your outie can parallel park in less than 20 seconds. Your outie can roller-skate with grace. Your outie pays all of his gas and electric bills within three business days. Your outie listens to music while shaving, but not while showering. Your outie prefers two scoops of ice cream in a serving, but they must be the same flavor. Your outie once captured a butterfly.

Mark Scout about Gemma:

My wife was extraordinary. My wife was allergic to nutmeg. And when she sneezed, she always sneezed twice. My wife liked other people's dogs. My wife thought cardigans looked ridiculous. I loved all these things about her... Equally.

Dylan and Irving about Burt:

Irving: The last time I was happy was when all I knew was MDR. When I was good at my job and not trying to be happy. I'm going to leave, Dylan. Dylan: It is not leaving. So stop fucking calling it that. I know, you want... I know... Just fucking try. Irving: You're a good friend, Dylan. (...) I wanted you to know before I left. Dylan: Okay. Well, you're not. You... No. Stop it. Stop it. Listen to me. Look, I'm sorry that outie Burt has a hot husband or whatever. But he is not the point. Innie Burt is the guy you fell for, and I know because I encouraged the courtship. Irving: I... I want it to be over. I want the pain to be over. If he's gone and I'm gone... Dylan: Stop saying that. Irving: ...then somehow, we'll be together. Dylan: He wouldn't want that. Irving: How do you know? Dylan: Because I don't want that. Because I would be sad, and I would be less productive, and I'm really good at what I do here, whatever it is. And you're part of what makes me good at it. So please, do not go. Irving: Dylan... I'm your favorite perk. Dylan: Don't bring them into this. All I'm saying is, if Burt was still here, he would be telling you to stick around and figure out what the fuck this is.

Felicia and Irving about Burt:

Irving: I can't... My God, he was... he was fearless! Felicia: I worked with Burt for six years. And I only ever saw him scared of one thing: He spent two hours on his hair the first time he went to visit you. Irving: Really? I should... I should show you something. I'd draw [one portrait of him] every day I couldn't see him. My numbers went down, but I didn't even care.

Dylan about Irving:

It's hard to pinpoint a favorite Irving story. For the least fun guy in the world, he was really fun. He put the "dick" in contradiction. One time, he was pissed at me for watering down the toner, so he put toner in my water cup. He stopped me before I drank it, though. He just wanted to make a point, not harm me physically. But I did accidentally take a sip of it later, 'cause I forgot he said that. He asked me for help with something near the end, and I didn't listen. And in his final moments, he would have been totally justified in telling me to suck my own fuck. But he didn't. He was awesome, and I miss him.

[stellamarielu]

Hear me out babes (may I call you babes?)

Declan x reader who is Taggie's friend and has a secret daddy kink..it almost slips out while teasing so Declan makes sure it fully comes out later ;) and maybe some more of that "be the sweet thing we both know you are and take it like a good girl" type shit if ya feel like it? Love you and your writing so much!

daddy

declan o’hara x female reader

summary: you're mocking the way declan's daughter is always calling him daddy, but the teasing only has the two of you discovering something new about your preferences in the bedroom

content: nsfw, 18+, literally just porn with a sprinkle of plot, cursing, daddy kink, risky quickie, teasing, penetration, praise kink, him calling the reader good girl [duh], him calling reader babygirl [idk i blacked out], hair pulling, slightly degrading, kinda rough sex, pull out game strong on this one!

author’s note: you can call me whatever you want when you’re dropping requests like this in my inbox, god damn! i’ve had tons of taggie’s best friend x declan requests lately so i hope this can feed you all– i’m looking directly at the anon who said “what if reader was taggie’s best friend and declan bent her over the closest platform and fucked her brains out.” [fucked her brains out had me on the floor]

—

You were having dinner at the O’hara’s for the second time this week. You'd like to say you helped taggie cook, but really you just watched her stride around the kitchen and handed her different ingredients as you talked her ear off. Now, after all her hard work and little boasts of encouragement from you, you were both sat at the kitchen table finishing dinner and laughing. Her father was sat across from you shaking his head at the cackling going on between you and Taggie. You were having a hard time keeping your composure with him only being a few feet away. It was hard to focus- hard to act normal when you knew you’d be sneaking into his room later.

It wasn’t your fault Taggie’s dad was so hot, and it also wasn’t your fault that you'd been hooking up with him.

You weren’t proud of it- in fact you felt guilty for doing something as blatantly wrong as having sex with your best friends dad. But it was Declan. You'd had a massive crush on him since the first time you walked through Taggie's front door. Not to mention his wife recently left and he was walking around all sad and lonely, practically begging you to fuck him out of his sorrowful daze. It wasn't like you were some home wrecker, Declan was the one who had initiated it weeks ago. Pulling you aside after taggie had fallen asleep one night and practically ambushing you with dirty whispers and not so innocent touches. In retrospect you had been doing everything within your power to break him down; so it didn't come as a surprise when he finally gave in to temptation and took you against his bedroom door.

Regardless of who tempted who first, you were now in some kind of relationship. You weren't really sure what it was exactly, all you knew was that you couldn't keep your hands off each other which made things complicated seeing as though his daughter- your best friend- was always right there next to you.

Like right now, she was sitting next to you and chatting with her dad about something that happened earlier and you couldn't be bothered to pay attention. Instead, you were fixated on the man in front of you. Declan was leaned back in his chair, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and all you could do was stare at the exposed skin beneath it.

"You done?" His voice was breaking you out of your trance.

He was leaning forward and reaching for the empty plate in front of you. The grin on his lips told you he knew exactly what had you so zoned-out. In fact, he had probably unbuttoned his shirt on purpose just to tease you.

“It’s alright daddy, i’ve got it” Taggie was chiming in as she stood to her feet, stacking your plates on top of one another and carrying them across the room to the sink.

Daddy, a term of endearment for her father. The word sounded so sweet and innocent coming from her mouth. It was a name she called him frequently and each time she did, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to say it yourself. To use it as so many people often did, in the bedroom.

Now that Taggie was away from the table, you and declan were left sitting across from each other, just staring. An amused smile had taken over your face at Taggie's recently spoken words.

He raised an eyebrow mouthing “what?” in curiosity to the look on your face.

“Nothing… daddy” You were sing-songing almost silently underneath your breath, careful not to let taggie hear.

Declan's brows furrowed and his mouth fell open slightly as if he were about to respond when you abruptly stood from your seat and grabbed the remaining dishes off the table, striding over to join your best friend across the room.

Then, Declan was sitting alone, his mind reeling from hearing you call him that. A name exclusively reserved for his children. He never even thought about what it would sound like to hear it from your lips. But now, it took on an entirely different meaning, the way you said it with your eyes all wide and challenging. It was as if you needed him to put you in your place. declan was accustomed to being in control in the bedroom but that word, “daddy” had him craving the authority that hid beneath its meaning and your submission that came along with it. He needed to hear you say it again. Wanted to hear it as he railed into you from behind with your hair wrapped around his fist.

You were standing with Taggie at the sink and stealing the sponge out of her hand, demanding to do the dishes since she cooked. Then Declan was behind you muttering something about “You’re our guest you’re not doing the dishes” and ushering you both out of the way. This was followed by you retorting, “Guest? I’m here practically every night.” determined to do the chore at hand.

After you and declan argued a bit more over who would do the washing up, taggie gave in, leaving you both to take care of the mess.

She was grabbing a tinfoil covered plate off the counter and waltzing out the front door before either of you could protest. She had promised Lizzie left over bread pudding and told the two of you she would be right back as she walked out the door to their neighbors house.

In taggie’s mind she just left her best friend and her dad to clean up the kitchen while she ran a quick errand– harmless. But the reality of it was much less innocent. In fact, the second taggie was down the driveway declan was pawing at your waist.

“You think it’s funny teasin’ me in front of Tag like that? you’re gonna get us both in trouble.”

You turned slightly so that you were facing each other.

“I’m not the one with my entire chest out.” you were accusing him, finding the third button from his collar and popping it open to match the two preceding it.

“Wish you were” He was chiding playfully as he molded to your touch.

You let your hands explore his exposed chest, gliding over the smooth curls hiding underneath the undone material of his shirt.

“Say it again.” His eyes were burning into you as you traced his collarbones.

His voice was deep and gruff, skipping over the playful tone you had introduced moments before.

“Say wha-“ Your brows were furrowed at his command, confused as to what he wanted you to repeat, and then it hit you.

“Daddy?”

You looked up at him with a devious sparkle in your eye. You were completely joking earlier, just mocking his daughter when you had said it the first time at the dinner table. Never in a million years did you think he would be into that sort of thing. You’d had a lot of sex over the past few weeks, all of it hot and dirty and at times a bit kinky, but the word daddy had never once come up.

“Oh you like that? You filthy old man.” You were giggling, every word fell from your lips in a joking tone, but the look in declan's eyes was far from playful.

You'd seen him wearing that expression before. In fact, the last time he had that unchecked feral look in his eyes, he had three fingers in you, telling you to "take it like a good girl." while your eyes were watering from pleasure.

"Bend over." His words were simply spoken and his eyes were blown wide as he peered down at you.

"Declan-" you were ready to tell him no, that you couldn't, that the risk of getting caught was far grater than the reward of a quick fuck against his kitchen sink.

"I wasn't askin'."

His rough hands slid to your hips, his strong hold on you forcing you to pivot until the front of your body was pushed against the kitchen counter.

"Declan, Taggie-" you were beginning to express your worry of getting caught when he interrupted you, his breath hot on your neck.

"She’ll be gone for at least twenty minutes." He was roaming the expanse of your torso with his big hands, not leaving a single inch of your body untouched.

"We've got plenty of time." His whispers were in your ear as he stood behind you and the invitation of his warm embrace had you falling back into his touch.

"You gonna take it while I bend you over the counter sweetheart?"

This time his voice was taunting as he spoke against your neck. One of his hands was coming down to the hem of your dress, hiking it up to your waist in one quick movement.

"Yes"

You were giving in. You had to. Everything about his hands on your body and his words swimming in your brain made you willing to do anything he wanted– a slave to his touch.

"Yes, what?" The teasing tone was back in his words as he coerced you into saying the one word he desperately needed to hear. His fingertips were pushing between your legs running over the embarrassingly damp material of your underwear.

"Yes daddy."

As soon as you said it, the gentle touch of his fingertips against your clothed core turned into a firm grip. His palm was flat on your cunt as he cupped your heat, and the friction of it had you biting back a squeal.

"There you go."

He was so satisfied by the feeling of having your body in his grasp- all bent over for him, that he let you have a little taste of your own satisfaction. He was hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down, replacing the lace material with the pads of his fingertips as they played in the mess of arousal gathering there.

"This all for me sweet girl?"

He was cooing in your ear, with his fingers painstakingly gliding over your opening.

You were whispering out a hushed, "yes" in hopes that he would finally fill you with something. You were desperate for relief and knew Taggie would be back soon.

"What’s that? Couldn’t here ya."

He was enjoying himself, teasing as you were submitting to his every whim.

"Declan, we have to hurry." You were mumbling through a moan as your back arched, reminding the man behind you that you were meant to be racing against the clock of his daughter's inevitable return.

“What happened to my pretty little obedient girl huh? Not very nice to rush me.” As he spoke you felt his touch vanish from between your bodies.

A pitiful noise erupted from your mouth at the loss of his touch on you.

"Declan..." You meant for this name to come out as a stern warning but instead it was just another deplorable whine, and he still wasn't touching you. It was as if he were waiting for something. Waiting for you to be compliant with his need for dominance.

"Please daddy, I'll be good for you." You were mustering up the sweetest little voice you could manage and pushing your ass into his crotch.

"I promise." you were purring out a vow of compliance as you looked over your shoulder at Declan.

The second your eyes found his all filled with innocence, it was a wrap.

He was working at his pants in a frenzy, quick to get them off so he could line himself up with your center that was exposed and ready– all for him.

Your gaze was once again fixed forward but you could feel Declan's length at your backside threatening to finally push into you.

You were getting ready to say something– anything– when a surprised yelp escaped your lips.

He had plunged his cock all the way into you in one swift movement. The wetness already drowning your core was enough to let his member slip right in and slide deep inside, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Yeah? Gonna be good?" He was huffing out as his hands gripped onto your hips, hard.

"My good fuckin' girl." His voice was a groan as he pulled your hips back to meet his over and over again, his cock diving into you with each movement.

One of his hands was letting go of your hips and sliding up your body until you felt him intertwining his fingers in your hair and gently pulling at it as he buried himself deeper with each thrust. The slight yank of your hair causing a perverse moan to seep from your mouth.

Your lewd noise made Declan's pace quicken as he bottomed out with every thrust.

"You like it when daddy pulls your hair like that huh baby?"

He was relishing in the pleasure of your walls wrapped tightly around his cock and the power he had over you in this position. The surge of control was bringing out the most unholy parts of him, causing filthy words to fall from his tongue.

And with each word off his lips you could feel your walls clenching harder around him and your body tensing in anticipation.

"Fuck- are you gonna come already?" Declan could feel the way you were squeezing and squirming against him, he knew exactly how your body reacted to him when you were on the verge of release.

"That's pathetic baby."

His voice was jeering as he reached around your body and placed the smallest amount of pressure over your clit with the pad of his index finger. The careful touch was especially surprising to you given the way he was currently pounding into you from behind. Everything about the contrasting sensations had your abdomen burning with pleasure.

"Gonna give it to me sweetheart? Gonna be a good girl for me?" His voice was spilling out of him in the most sinful groan.

you were whining out a "yes daddy" as he continued driving into you, simultaneously pushing your hips back to meet each of his relentless thrusts.

it was all too much; his attentive strokes to your clit, his tight grip in your hair, his unyielding pace as he filled you with every inch of him. You could feel the tension building in your body ready to snap, and your legs threatened to give out underneath you.

Bracing yourself against the kitchen counter, you pressed your forearms against the cool surface.

"That's it babygirl." Declan's sinful chants were filling your ears as you allowed your release to wash over you. White hot pleasure shot through your entire body as you folded even further over the kitchen sink.

"There's my good girl."

His praise was a low murmur as he took in the way you were melting into him with relief. Your body gave into him completely as your grip around his cock tightened.

"Fuck look at you."

The astonishment in his voice made yet another pitiful whine slip past your lips. You were still trembling as he continued thrusting into you, his movements much slower than before.

"Came so fast. Ya needed me that bad babygirl?"

You couldn't bring yourself to speak, instead you just nodded your head pathetically as you remained slumped against the countertop.

"So fuckin' tight sweetheart." He was marveling at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him like a warm perverted hug.

He was picking the pace of his thrusts back up, unable to keep himself from giving in to how good it felt to have you bent over for him with your mind all dazed and your cunt pulsing.

With one hand pulling at your hair and the other grabbing at your waist, Declan was practically slamming himself into you, the breathy groans leaving his throat made your head spin.

"Feels so good daddy." You were mewling out a statement of flattery for the man currently ruining you, hoping your words held the same power of his.

Judging by the way his thrusts ceased and the fact that he was pulling out of you in mere seconds, your use of his new favorite nickname must've pushed him right over the edge.

He was using the hand at your waist to gather your dress higher on your body, ensuring that his eventual mess wouldn't ruin the material.

Thick, hot strands of come came pulsing out of him, covering his own fist and the exposed skin of your lower back. He fought to keep his eyes open as his orgasm pushed through him, watching the way his load spilled over your body.

You were both regulating your nervous systems and sharing a few smitten chuckles as Declan grabbed a nearby dishtowel to wipe away the evidence of your shared debauchery.

After a few minutes of normality and washing dishes, you watched through the kitchen window as Taggie made her way back up the driveway.

You and Declan shared one last brazen smile before going back to being nothing more than acquaintances.

"I'm back!" Taggie's voice filled the Priory like a song as she came bounding in the front door.

She entered the kitchen with a smile on her face as she took in the cleanliness of her surroundings, somehow you and Declan had managed to finish washing up after he fucked you over the kitchen counter.

"Look at that! My heroes." Taggie was exclaiming as she pulled you both into a loose embrace, you on her left and Declan on her right.

She proceeded to grab you by the forearm pulling you away from her father and toward the doorway of the kitchen; taking you back for herself so the two of you could go gossip and listen to music in her room.

"Oh daddy, Lizzie says hi by the way!" She was speaking to her father right as you were about to exit the room, and you couldn't help the smirk that found its way to your lips.

Declan's eyes found yours at the sound of the word and both of you were fighting back a laugh as Taggie hauled you to the stairs.

my masterlist

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

VIRGO MERCURY ♍️📫✨️

Virgo mercury.

and why it is domicile.

. and the people who have this placement who are famous.. Whitney Houston. Being one of the most powerful people with the voice of that and Amy Winehouse and Freddie Mercury. open people who have this placement. I literally just wrote all of this and it took me ages and I keep losing it. Where I live at the moment has really bad signal..,, so this can show you a placement and part of it because Virgo rules talking our intellect our thoughts our voice how our voice sounds, what we With that what we talk about. how we go How we get our point across.I’m going to show you. How this can be. The strongest placement at all. The strongest placement in a darker side of it. Like for this is coming from personal experience being a Virgo mercury. For instance I love it that Freddie Mercury is called Freddie Mercury because he is Virgo mercury and a Virgo sun .Own rule. Prince Harry, who literally comes from the royal family who written about talked about everything. have had TV shows. around them documentaries. probably millions. Around the world.. he’s had his words changed against him because of his narrative with his wife. Who I believe might B a a narcissist . so you can see how it can come from another person all of these great singers who shared their words with us and live on in our memory and our cultural research have this placement, OK Amy Winehouse even the way how at the Grammy she’s like making fun of Justin timberlake’s album this can also make your voice be quite unique. It grows a player in another way like and I’m thinking of skins when Effie in the first series doesn’t talk at all I literally would be mute at school and talkative at home this is being somebody who only got diagnosed as autistic in the last three years. because when you're on that borderline of normal and unusual. putting it nicely for once. Because when I was growing up you still didn’t really talk about mental health like it was there but it wasn’t how it is now it wasn’t a thing that was talked about so for a lot of millennials it’s like a whole new learning process like our whole culture has been taken away from us in a way. We live in an opposite world.

Freddie Mercury a gay man he literally only told the press the day before he died that he had the virus and was seriously ill he knew it was gonna come out in a matter of time. And didn’t know how he’d feel about that probably and all the headlines that would be written.

And this is how it comes across through other people’s words you could literally have your reputation tarnished like it’s a strong placement whenever there’s a detriment full domicile or exaltation in a chart that is going to be very strong in this person's life. Like words are gonna be a thing.. like for me I feel like it went the opposite way like I obsess over because Virgo knows that what people expect it may be a mutable sign but it’s very astute that’s why I said that Virgo moons., I don’t understand why it’s not a detriment or full placement really because. It’s very cruel and it can roam over grooming, and also I believe self harm I mean look at Amy Winehouse when she did that magazine cover and that photo shoot with that photographer I do not like anything it’s quite disgusting Terry Richardson where she’s literally carving her partner’s name into her body that is heavy Britney Spears when she shaved her hair and whacked that paparazzi’s car and myself people might be really heavy drug users there’s also going to be a theme possibly around their weight and their size sometimes from Jacob binges sometimes from the opposite withdrawal I remember with Whitney Houston at the Michael Jackson tribute concert where they both weren’t very well she came on the stage and I remember my dad saying that she looked good but apparently they had to digitally alter her weight so I dread to imagine if that is true and what she really looked like because she was tiny like these people are aware of things that are young age and that can see through people’s bullshit.

They can get turned on by being degradated or humiliated that even,. I truly believe that with Virgo because they are not. Happy with who they are and that is why they strive to perfection they’re just this psychic as pisces

it's just in a different kind of way. Is more in a viable way rather than feeling but you can definitely feel an energy they can feel the energy they can feel the room they can read a room in both sense of the word of reading a room and reading a person down like Wendy Williams on her infamous interview.and all these people have had, shows documentaries series about them, so just words just think words intellect is gonna be a big theme in their life. Whether other people say it or not you can read it on a variety of anxious energy. An urgency they do not like being alone for a long even the quieter ones. I think of Amy Winehouse and Freddie Mercury with their iconic voices uneven iconic look.

that many girls across the nation copied that Amy Winehouse thick eyeliner and beehive hair. she wanted to be like all the girl groups that had come before in the 60s and this will be a massive thing in their life music will literally live music it will be like a drug to them and they won’t be able to let other people have any control play music. Like with Whitney Houston and she has that strong leo’s sun sign. I know because I am one myself with a Virgo mercury.. but she also has that Aries band and on the Diane Sawyer interview they’re like is it is it booze, is it pills, is it drugs what is it what’s the devil and she’s like I don’t know do you know Diane.. no you don’t and she read Wendy down exactly the same.. but she could also be incredibly charming. but she obviously had some,. Why you’re being manipulated by Bobby Brown to some degree even though I don’t think Bobby is completely to blame we literally watched her lose her voice that’s, how powerful These person is and her child really young two years old.

Look you see how that can play out in such a dark way like Freddie Mercury got that disease aids and HIV I don’t really like to talk about this but he obviously got from like 6:00 with men who’s up literally has been publicly I guess humiliated and he knew this he knew that the world would see it like that so celebrities do tell the press things that they know are gonna get out even things that probably wouldn't get out. They know and he probably knew the ship it would make him feel and the pain the headlines like his secret would be out in a way yeah well it was his secret and it was his choice. I find it rather ironically I find the press kind of disgusting even as someone who’s into celebrity culture like watching Britney Spears like in real time shave her head get that tattoo and click see how mercuries and Sagittarius that’s detriment and I love her for what she did but even in 2007 we didn’t know about mental health it wasn’t really spoken about it was something that was but we didn’t know ohh it was I feel that’s how I remember it But it was painful to watch OK felt away about that Wow what’s going on I feel like Virgo could rule self harm as well the elevator is self harm they do they really really do like I just said about Britney Spears and she got 5150 didn’t she in 2007 if you remember Amy when she did that photo shoot was that sick photographer who I hate Terry Richardson. She’s literally cutting her partner’s name into her body like they like that they they do what is it being I’m not too sure or me for instance like myself on every day by injecting drugs into my body like the pain and those come from that my axe who is doing it all the time he has Venus conjunct Mars and Mars is more about pain and Venus is more about pleasure so when you mix the two together and create this tangible. Like we can really be into pain pain pain hi needles knives burning like I can think of all of them. I can also attribute this to having Venus conjunct chiron the wounded healer. being CHIRON the asteroid. and whatever sign it is is where you have the pain going on in your life. all the deepest pain.

Even Freddie Mercury having those extra teeth that allegedly made his voice sound so amazing and the fact that Live Aid.,. where he’s talking to the crowd and he’s doing like he’s vocal warm ups to the crowd that is something that you can’t forget that is something that is a cultural reset like I said with Amy Winehouse too I’m Whitney Houston who’s been known as the voice. that that comes through that part of that chart so strongly vividly. And how people have also wrote words about them out of their control or out of their reach or power .. or you can have it or you grow up in a household where you were lied to a lot and your own narrative and words were taken away from me or you were the one who has lied to you because of your reactions to things and your upset. Which can feel really painful like if you’re not feeling that love or that you’re being stimulated you will explain hi Joseph you might ********** with bravado like Russell Brand said Amy Winehouse stayed a bit like stubbing out cigarettes and chucking them around to impress him, i always related to that so much this is quite painful they will actually self harm with drugs and mutilate themselves ohh I am not being ridiculed to her my life and how I’ve had that happen to them his children and abuse can take any form like for me it was more isolation like if I feel like my relationship for the last six years it turned into my parents and it killed me it literally broke my spirit because I didn’t wanna be dysfunctional obese can be sexual, violent because corrosive was self-inflicted are you a danger to yourself or others and honestly I think it needs to be talked about more. I was saying to my boyfriend last night that crying up middle class you can often feel like this, This is why I love shameless so much and watch it every night over and over again because I love how they stick together on council estates. and run scams to make money. I loyal to each other borough and land.l borrow of Peter to Pay Paul.... I know it because it’s my lifestyle too even though I’m not from a counselor state I will come into that drug world where it’s heavy in that in a way in that world not always you get many different addicts. And not all of the same. We’re all different every one of us growing up in a family where addiction wasn’t a thing. Even if they say they understand they ******* don’t.

 they treat you like their unwanted ginger stepchild, and if you wanted to save more physical affection,. They will starve you of it they believe you just want more and more when in fact it’s a ******* illness for ******** why not think of where it actually originated from so you could actually ******* do something about it. sorry but it makes me really angry. to the point of wanting to hurt myself.

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

This Defense Of Stolas Is Just So Laughable

Critical Crusher Bot, the anti anti helluva boss fan, is at it again with his braindead two cents on how to defend Stolas and it's a doozy. The main points that Stolas is getting back his autotomy, male abuse victims should be taken seriously, he's a victim not a villain, lack of nuance, bashing so-called gotcha culture, trying to invoke there is no moral correctness, and that it's a survival story, and he owes Stella nothing for cheating on her.

First thing first is that the autonomy thing is bs and hypocritical when Stolas himself violates Blitzo's autonomy by forcing him into the full moon agreement and sexually abusing. Seriously, this series and his defenders wants you to think Stolas is a brave victim of abuse standing up for himself against his abuser, while trapping a lower class demon into a sexually exploitative relationship. That's pure tone deaf bs. He's not a victim he's an even worse abuser than Stella because unlike him she never sexually abused him and most of all she didn't try to make herself out as the victim when called out for her actions. And none of this pos fans actually took Blitzo as an abuse victim seriously and brushed it off as he could have just said no at any time, but we know that Stolas had all the power but they don't want to admit it.

Also yes Stolas was the villain because you don't sexually exploit someone and expect to be seen as the bad guy. The only reason why he's seen as the "good guy" is because the narrative wants to. And that goes into the bs of nuance and no moral correctness. Because there is no nuance, because it refuses to see things through Stella's way and just make Stolas the pure woobie abused by her while she's demonized as the most evil thing ever. Also that no moral correctness is also bs because that's a cop out to say we don't want to think about how what a pos Stolas can be and people have a right to call him out. Just because someone is designated a victim doesn't mean they are absolved of horrible things they do especially if they are an abuser themself.

Also this ain't no survival story. Stolas always had the power to leave he just did out of some misguided savior complex to give his daughter proper family when in reality she was exposing her to a toxic environment that could go off at any time. He could have left it years ago and have nothing to do with her. But again this pos just put all of this on himself because he's a sucker for punishment. Calling Stolas a survival story is an insult to real survivors of abuse who had all the stacks against them and little support. Also Stolas destroyed that family life out of selfishness and now wants to look like the victim for destroying his daughter's life while his defenders overlook that.

And that's the other part, these people say we are looking for gotchas, but that's it we are looking at the fact that Stolas is presented as something in narrative when in execution he comes off as something else. He comes across as a horrible person uses every excuse he can to absolve himself of any wrongdoing to the point that even when you point out the hypocrisy people will pull up another one. That's the real gotcha which is nothing is ever his fault and you should feel shame for bringing it up.

Also just because you feel he has no obligation to his wife he does have an obligation to his daughter and he destroyed it completely by cheating on her mother. And don't use the abuse card, because he as said before could have just divorced her easily but instead became a cheating prick who sexually abused a lower class demon to feel any sort of happiness. He even multiple times chose being with Blitzo with her three times. You can't even tell me that he cares about Octavia and then says he doesn't owe anything to Stella. He really at heart is just a selfish pos who only cares about what he wants and no one else not even the person he says he loves. Because when he's around Blitzo all he does is take from him rather than give. It's a parasitic relationship that's deceptively depicted as a healing, complex relationship when in reality it's toxic as hell, but the narrative and fandom don't want to admit it. If they actually can't state the obvious morals about Stolas their support for this show crumbles and they have to question what this series actually stands for by condoning such a depiscable character.

[freedelusionshere]

Hi!! Love your posts. I would love to hear about your S4 predictions!!

They change on a daily/weekly basis, but I'll try!

Semi-rational predictions:

Syd doesn't leave The Bear and Carmy apologizes and changes his behavior, treating her like a real partner. The reason they're in the situation they are is that Carmy is trying to lead in areas he's not good at. All the elements for success are there, Carmy has self-sabotaged, and no one has really stood up to him and Syd will.

We learn about Syd's past and why she's so reluctant to cross personal/professional lines and why she feels like she's had to be so independent and why she did Sheridan Road by herself. Remember, Emmanuel loves her but hasn't really supported her dream as a viable career, and suggests she work at the airport like her cousin, meaning, their extended family likely feels the same way.

I'm guessing Syd grew up with her mother in the kitchen or a culinary influencer, a social activist in the community, and those are some of her fondest memories she has as a child before she passed which Syd has taken on as part of her legacy.

Cicero tries to burn down The Bear (the stuff he was sneaking in in S3) to give the kids the insurance money since he's going to bail on them and wants to save face, and it fails. It also puts him out of the picture of influencing them going forward, and they have to find another investor.

Donna tries to tell Syd at Tiff's wedding to run far away from The Beef like she did (aka Carmy is not really your family, he bailed on me, his own flesh and blood), and it backfires on Donna, because Carmy is willing to change for Syd and not her. Donna and Carmy hash it out and Carmy confronts his mom and tells her Syd is off-limits and he will choose The Bear over family-family any day, so don't test him, and that this is what he wants and for her to stop trying to meddle and treat him like an adult.

Syd and Carmy finally collaborate on a menu/dish, and it's amazing and gets rave reviews, and is a perfect reflection of them together. (I don't really care if they ever get a star, TBH, because Syd is Carmy's star.)

Marcus and Luca get together and Marcus moves to Copenhagen or Luca moves to Chicago (his sister is here) and they open a bakery together that wins awards.

Shipper lens predictions:

We find out Carmy signed Syd's apartment lease. We know her dad didn't and it's why he compares the apartment to the partnership agreement and makes digs, because he knows it's Carmy, and he already suspects Syd likes Carmy as more than a business partner and knows that Carmy will go very far to back Syd's ambitions. Which is part of why Syd is so into Carmy, because no one has done that for her before. Carmy also meets Emmanuel in S4 who goes hard on him at first for being unable to provide financially for his daughter and then comes around when he realizes how devoted Carmy is to her. Carmy also might have some money socked away for a moment such as this, despite being bad at math; Cousin Michelle connections, etc.

Carmy tries to apologize to Claire, but Claire thinks Syd is who he was talking to when he was trapped inside the walk-in, and that he never really was himself with her (which is true, because she made him uneasy) and Syd is his work-wife and for him to go fuck himself. She will try to embarrass him at the wedding as payback since she was already doing that almost the minute she left Friends & Family (which Ted repeats) and lied to Tiff about him. Neil confesses his love to Claire and apologizes for meddling.

Donna brings Lee to Tiff's wedding which causes Donna and Carmy hash it out and he finds out Lee is his birth father. This leads to a long conversation about how Donna isn't a person he can trust emotionally and explains why they all babied him, because they had a secret and felt guilty but didn't want him to know. The mystery of the missing/dead Berzatto dad is revealed.

Carmy and Syd have sex on top of a table at some point, maybe in the restaurant after hours. After a reveal about her eating the blood orange hamachi heart-on-a-plate dish, and that Carmy remembered her from the James Beard Award he won for Rising Star which she attended while she was at CIA, or she saw him at The Beef when she was a kid. The basic idea is some magic realism here, that they've run into each other before she showed up at The Beef, and they have always somehow or another been connected and in each other's lives and always will be.