#RIP in peace Ric

[ianthedebonair]

Do you know what is also canonical? Ortega thinks that Sidestep uses too many Layers. But he doesn't complain (only when you crash the car as Sidestep and he has to cut off your clothes to do first aid/use his hands as a defibrillator. and seeing the regenes tattoos)

but before that, it's just something he realizes step do... and he keeps it to himself.

but what do you think he thought when they went to the apartment date, and at the time step suggested doing a handjob with the “clothes on” and there was this layer underneath? probably marking everything skin-tight…

OR betta, What did Ortega think when he was kissing Damien in that dark gallery and he slowly managed to put his fingers under the tight fabric?

Did Damian let Ricardo delight his fingers in his back there for a while or did he freeze?

Jokes on Ortega because Damien's a loser and he would have kept rotting in secret crush hell if it weren't for his accidental confession after the crash 🤡

But that's for Damien's "canon" Ortega romance.

In my alternate run(s) where they do kiss in the alley, I'm torn between Damien getting too lost in the kiss to panic and freezing like a deer caught in the headlights lol.

(Rest of my yapping under the cut 😌)

I like the first one because it's a rare W for him and his touch starvation--feeling like it was his first time getting introduced to alcohol and immediately getting drunk. But I feel like he was able to pull out of the kiss a bit too smoothly.

Meanwhile, the option where he freezes and lowkey freaks out is soo good... but it sets the touchpanic variable true, and I don't exactly see him having that level of touch aversion. In my mind, it was less about the unexpected contact and more about being paranoid of Ric recognizing the feel of his tattoos and his secret being exposed in that moment.

(I just end up picking between the two depending on my mood 🤷‍♂️)

For the intimate scenes in Ortega's apartment, Ricardo recognizes how big of a leap it is for Damien for that sort of intimacy and I'd like to think that he's laser-focused into making it as comfortable and as pleasurable for Damien as possible. Questions, theories, and fantasies can wait. Ric already thinks he's fumbled his chances with Dame before, he sure as hell won't take this opportunity for granted now.

But once they get over the whole Re-gene reveal and when Damien has gotten past his initial shyness, I'm sure they can get creative with the skin-tight clothes they have at their disposal. I even daresay that Damien would be a lot more freaky creative because of his innate curiosity and Bastard Behavior™️ 👀👄👀

And since I'm already in the topic of garments, I'll just share these two being silly with clothes because I could 🙈. (x)

[monzamash]

unless you like that — daniel ricciardo

summary – it’s events season and the alcohol is flowing.  rating – a whole lotta smut 18+ (sex scene, course language, drinking) pairing – daniel ricciardo x you (female reader) word count – 3.8k of absolute filth a/n – bit of plot but mostly just sex because drunk, flirty danny ric makes me feral. that's it. enjoy the ride. masterlist

All you wanted to do was drag Daniel back to your hotel room, get reacquainted after a couple of torturous weeks of being apart, maybe run a hot bath and enjoy the rest of your night in peace.

In your dreams.

You never really had Daniel for long during the season and because of that, you wanted to make the most of your time actually being in the same country, let alone the same city. But your handsome, social butterfly of a boyfriend had other ideas – ones that didn’t factor in your desire to have him all to yourself.

So good to see ya too, mate.

We’ve gotta catch up next time you’re in LA, man.

Maaaate, long time no see!

How’s ya mum going? Tell her I said hi.

The mum's bloody loved themselves a bit of Daniel Ricciardo.

The long, doting line of people wanting to wish Daniel good luck for next year and praising his strength through adversity while getting a sneaky selfie was never ending. To put it plainly, it was obnoxious but you were used to it now. He was effervescent, charismatic – a big ‘ol magnet to anyone and everyone. You loved him endlessly, admired his ability to smile through the pain even more but all you wanted to do was say goodnight to everyone and leave.

Barely two words were shared before you were whisked off in a car and through the doors of this swanky restaurant – the private function room and bottomless champagne making it less excruciating.

“All I can think about is getting this over and done with so I can come back here and rip this unbelievably beautiful dress off you.”

Those ‘barely two words’ were enough ammunition to last you a couple of hours, holding onto the hope of that promise coming true. But right now you had to try and enjoy the night and put any filthy thoughts you may or may not be having aside for the sake of your own sanity. Smile and wave.

You didn’t know exactly what the party was for but you knew that the McLaren team were the ones throwing it from the obnoxious amount of orange balloons hanging from the ceiling – and that Daniel was obliged to attend. But you would never have guessed that he was there as a contractual obligation the way he floated through the room, saying hello to every last individual, bright smile adorning his face. He made each and every person feel like a million bucks. That’s why they loved him, because he made them feel at ease – like he was one of them.

Daniel didn’t think there was a whole lot for him to be celebrating but he always underestimated how loved he was by McLaren – racing problems aside, he was adored by the staff who were devastated to see him leaving.

And somehow in a room of nearly a hundred people, he knew nearly everyone by name, zeroing in long enough to have them eating out of the palm of his hand.

Your words, not his.

“Could you say hello to my grandson – he loves you.” An older lady asked, phone locked and loaded for the video. God help him if he said no.

“Absolutely.”

Of course he said yes. That was the kind of person Daniel was. Not a people pleaser or a push over – just a genuinely nice guy with more patience than anyone you’d ever known.

After making your way around most of the room, you finally had a second to drink in your man. The freshly steamed, light blue linen shirt was lazily buttoned over his shoulders, leaving a the tiniest bit of chest hair showing for good measure and to tease you, no doubt. He’d gone for his classic black skinny jeans sitting atop a pair of shiny black dress shoes look that you loved and those wild curls that you’d spent hours twirling between your fingers flowed onto his forehead – he looked so fucking good.

His charm and kindness always had you singing his praises and you made sure he knew how wonderful he was, how attractive he was. Your soft whispers of admiration had his heart pumping as he took a sip of his Chateau Margaux red, lips quirked in a smile. “So sexy.”

“Which part of all that was sexy? The bit where I filmed a video for that women’s grandkid? You are an absolute deviant if that’s makin’ ya feel a certain way, my girl.”

Daniel loved to tease, especially when it garnered that kind of reaction. Rolling eyes, flushed cheeks and a gentle shove in the arm. He fucking lived for it.

“No, dickhead.” You scolded under your breath, “Just… you being you. I don’t know what it is.”

You couldn’t put your finger on it but you knew how it made you feel. Seduced.

“Maybe you can figure it out in our hotel room.”

Daniel shrugged with a smirk lining his lips, nonchalantly throwing out the idea as if he hadn’t been plotting a way to leave the party early. Wishing for nothing more than to have you praising his other set of skills, if you catch my drift. Rolling your eyes with flushed cheeks but in a very different context. He was twitching at the thought as his fingertips lightly scratched at the silky material covering your ribs, dragging your body closer to his.

“Don’t tempt me, Ricciardo. All I’ve wanted since the second we got here was to leave so don’t talk a big game if you can’t deliver.” You were whispering in his ear, hoping to spur on those scheming eyes staring back at you.

“When have I not delivered? Just call me FedEx,” He joked, swaggering away from the bar and waving to Lando who had just rocked up with his crew in tow.

“Do we even know what this party’s for?” Lando asked over the loud music blasting through the speakers, taking the smallest step back after he gave us both a hug hello.

Lando looked dapper compared to his usual hoodie and track pants ensemble that he'd wear around the track. He was slightly confused by the overt extravagance he’d walked into but he was always smiling your way, making you feel welcome. You were going to miss his cheekiness and the way he brought out a different side to Daniel. Mischief always seemed to follow those two.

“Probably just a way for McLaren to swing their dick around before the end of the season,” Daniel shrugged, completely oblivious to how crude his comment was. Thankfully Lando was more than used to it now after working so closely with him so you didn’t have to apologise on Daniel’s behalf.

“The wine’s ace though.” He quickly added.

“You would say that,” Lando replied, snickering quietly as he looked over at the bar, “Might actually grab a drink and come back. Want anything?"

Lando looked between you and Daniel as you both shook your heads until he turned away and disappeared into the crowd, “Kid’s not gonna know what hit him next year – being the golden boy isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…”

You nodded and watched Daniel’s eyes following Lando, pensively taking a sip of his wine before sighing and glancing back to you, “What?”

“Nothing,” You tutted, “It’s funny how much you care about him now after how rocky the relationship was in the beginning. I love that he’s softened you a little bit, made you less of a prick.” You winked.

The insincere insult tacked onto the end made Daniel’s thick eyebrows rise with faux hurt, an exaggerated gasp masterfully added for emphasis, “Me? A prick? I wouldn’t reckon a prick snags a girl like you.”

You watched as Daniel sculled the rest of his wine, a devilish smirk hiding behind the large glass, “No chance. Unless you like that.”

“I don’t hate it.”

Daniel's laugh was dark as he took a step forward, lessening the gap between the two of you before reaching up and brushing your hair over your shoulder, “Now you’re tempting me and that’s not fair.” He whispered into your ear, carefully placing his empty glass on the table beside you.

“Nothings really fair though, is it? You having to be here instead of buried deep inside me, fucking me until I –”

“The bar line’s a fucking ‘mare,” Lando loudly interrupted and caused you to jump back from Daniel’s side. You steadied yourself on his hip for balance as you watched Lando plot his next move.

“Oh, there’s Charlotte – she’ll have an in!”

You and Daniel politely nodded again while he shot off in the other direction, and the two of you shifted away from the middle of the room, out of view of prying eyes and into a private nook. Daniel was quick to pin you up against the wall, large hand pressing into your hip as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. He could see right through you.

“Don’t give me that look,” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Look at what you do to me.”

His whispered words and flickering eyes encouraged your hands that were playing with his slightly parted shirt to travel further south, fingertips tracing over his dark denim jeans that were a lot tighter than when he first got here. Almost too tight.

“You are fuckin’ cruel, sweetheart.”

The painfully hard outline pressing against your palm intoxicated your already foggy mind, mouth watering. You could feel your thighs magnetically pulling together as his thumb flicked the dimple in your chin, forcing you to look into his dark, misty eyes that were watching your every move.

"Want me to do something about it?" It was a bold question to ask, a dangerous one, even when you noticed his eyes change colour. They were blacker than the night sky now.

Daniel was exasperated, anguished by the question as he smiled and dipped his forehead onto yours. The answer was obviously “abso-fucking-lutely, get down on your knees and show me you love me” but he knew better. And so did you. Still, the warm puff of air from his laugh still sent surging chills down your arched spine, needy for his touch.

“I hate sayin’ no to you,” He rasped and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, “Especially when I know how fucking good you feel but no. You can't.”

You dryly chuckled and brushed your hands over his puffed out chest, “Must be absolute torture, my boy. Thankfully I can hide how I’m feeling – you? Not so much.” You replied with gritted teeth and a shrug, smirk dancing on your lips.

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ in for it later, mate.” He playfully retorted before pulling himself from your grasp and leaving you with what he thought was a threat, but what you took as a promise you hoped to God he would keep. You were soaked. to. the. core.

The expensive champagne continued to flow freely for hours and several glasses of wine later had you and Daniel fumbling around at your hotel room door, unsure whether you’d arrived at the right number and having absolutely no idea where the key card you barely remembered giving him had gone. It also didn’t help that Daniel’s lips hadn’t left the crook of your neck while you dug through your clutch, his fingers inching closer to danger with every passing second.

“Lemme see your pockets,” You huffed and shoved your hand into his jeans pocket, causing a loud shriek to slip from his lips.

“You’re just tryin’ to touch my dick!” He shouted, louder than he expected and definitely louder than you accepted as appropriate, even in your drunken stupor, "You can if ya want."

“Shuuuush!” You hissed, trying not to laugh as Daniel gazed up at the ceiling and reached into his back pocket, searching until his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah-huh!”

“Thank god – now hurry up and fuck me please!” You whisper-yelled, praying for the sweet sound of a door unlocking.

“Alright, ya horn-bag. Give me a sec- ond… Shit!” Daniel paused and looked back at you with wide eyes, “Wrong room.”

You could faintly hear the sound of footsteps behind the large door in front your shocked face. Before you could even muster a response to his mortifying revelation, Daniel had you in his grasp, dragging you down the hallway, panting and hoping he had a plan. He always did.

“Room 1001 – not 1011,” He coughed through his laughter, hovering the keycard over the lock and finally revealing the room we’d left nearly 5 hours ago, “Home sweet home.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his embrace. Daniel groaned at your sudden burst of energy and hoisted you up on his waist, mouths instantly attached and desperately trying to defy physics.

Your vision was blurry when you pulled away for air, lips still touching, noses knocking and your hands still roaming the expanse of Daniel’s broad shoulders. You could feel him moving you further into the room that was spinning, the ceiling fan still whirring above your head. That was the first thing you saw when you landed on the messy hotel bed and left for dead by Daniel who was chuckling at the foot, watching you lay back in defeat.

“I’m stupidly drunk.” You huffed.

Daniel nodded as you looked up at him through hooded eyes, “So, so drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

Your pointed finger and wiggling eyebrows told him exactly what you were referring to, lip bite and dark eyes forever selling you out.

“Take off your pants.” You ordered.

Daniel’s grin dropped into a smirk as you propped yourself up on your elbows, encouraging your boyfriend to give you a little show. Tipsy or not, Daniel knew what you wanted and he’d move heaven and earth to give you whatever you asked for. A heat rushed across his chest as he gazed down at you, undressing for him. The silky satin dress slipped off a lot easier than it went on, a detail not going unnoticed by Daniel who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, moaning at the sight of your white lacy thong that you knew he loved.

“Killing me.”

“You love it, baby.”

“I live for it.”

The banter was hot, if not hotter than the actual sex. Foreplay was your forte but you weren’t in a ‘building a narrative’ kind of mood. It was primitive now – the primal need for a release outweighing the desire to fuck around with each other. That was the kind of fun best saved for the morning. You were already looking forward to that.

“Look how wet I am for you, Danny.”

Daniel growled as he kicked his jeans off, boxer briefs attached as they flung across the room, discarded with his wrinkled linen shirt. He stood for a moment – naked, painfully hard and begging to be touched before crawling up onto the California king. You could feel him throbbing as he brushed up on your inner thigh, legs open and wrapped around his waist in a matter of seconds. Lips attached again, frenziedly needing for more.

“Give it to me.” You pathetically pled.

“I wanna taste first.”

You resented his love for you in that moment. Resented that he wanted to indulge in what you had to offer, when all you wanted was the main course. The sharp huff that slipped from your lips made Daniel chuckle into your inner thigh, sloppy kisses followed by tiny nibbles, undeniably revving you up but also making the pout on your face that much more noticeable.

“You’re sexy even when you’re mad,” He almost slurred, closing the gap between you and his indescribably proficient tongue. Hot breath fanning over what you could only imagine was your glistening pussy. Ready for him to enjoy. Fuck.

“You are a fucking drug. A sweet, delicious drug that'll be the death of me.”

Daniel hummed before flattening his tongue against you, loving eyes locked on yours before your head tilted back, throat barely squeaking out a moan. He lapped and lapped and lapped away at you, paying close attention to the way you curled up when the tip of his nose slipped over your clit, your moan changing in pitch. He was always in heaven devouring you like this, until he was somewhat satisfied. He wasn’t selfish and he knew what you wanted, even if he could’ve stayed like that until the sun came up. Feasting.

“Daniel, please.”

“Full naming me when I just wanna make you feel good is mean, baby.”

Daniel was playing. And you were teasing. He loved hearing you moan his whole name – his mind reeling back to the time you screamed out his full name as you came, subsequently rushing him to his own finish line. Exploding.

“I wanna cum around your cock. That’s all I want,” You sighed and finally opened your eyes, clutching and admiring at the sprinkling of chest hair. Daniel was drunk, but not drunk enough to not realise how lucky he was to have you spread out beneath him, pleading for him to fuck you into another dimension.

“Your wish is my… demand? Command? Your wish is my something,” Daniel couldn’t quite find the saying in the midst of his excitement, and you couldn't hold back the fit of laughter as you threw your head into the pillows.

“Smooth, Ricciardo,” You giggled as you felt his slick tip teasing your hole, fists clenched beside your head and a smirk the size of the equator on his face.

“Well how does it go then, smarty pants?” Daniel nodded his head and gently sank into you, revelling in the feeling of you engulfing every inch he had to give while he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, waiting for your answer.

“I –” You stammered, adjusting and sucking in a sharp breath, “I have no… No idea, and I don’t… fucking care.”

Daniel chuckled as his wispy curls fell into his eyes, watching you lick your lips and gather yourself. You were blurry in his vision, the alcohol now really pumping through his veins as he gripped your hips in his large hands, palms perspiring and brows following suit. Your fingertips trailed from his chest down to his pelvis, skin hot to the touch and tattoos glistening from sheen of sweat covering his perfect body.

“Fuck me just like that… Oh my god.” You snapped open your lust filled eyes – blazing flames erupting in Daniel’s as they caught yours.

“Feels fuckin’ good, ey.”

It was a rhetorical question but you nodded anyway.

Daniel was huffing and puffing as your lips tried to find his, hands cradling his slacked jaw. Drunken sloppy sex was one of your favourite genres and it’d been a hot minute since you’d found yourselves with the taste of red wine still lingering on your tongues, fucking like animals. He was thrusting hard until he noticed your hand crawl down to where your bodies met, the delicate touch slowing his movements and capturing his undivided attention.

“Oi,” Daniel breathed and sat back on his knees, still warming in your tight pussy. Your eyebrows quirked with intrigue and a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as he grabbed your hand and guided it up to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. Fanning the flames deep inside.

His tongue swiped across your soft fingertips, making sure each one was dripping wet with spit before sliding them back down between your trembling thighs, “Bet that feels better, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Much better,” You managed to moan out as he wrapped his arm around your lower back and angled your hips up to his cock, watching himself slowly slide in and out while you circled your clit, edging yourself closer with every touch.

Daniel picking up the pace meant he wasn’t far from his high, the tell tale signs were consistent and always a dead giveaway. The flush of red creeping up his neck and veins bulging under his taut skin was the first sign. Filthy words whispered into your ear was the second and grunts vibrating in his chest as his focus was pulled to you and only you were one of the final ones before he couldn’t hold on any longer.

But he never left you high and dry. Not in a million fucking years.

"Right fucking there, Danny!" You shouted, oblivious to your screams almost certainly alerting the neighbouring room. Even if you were conscious of the volume of your voice, you couldn’t have cared less. Your man was putting on a show and you’d be damned if you didn’t make sure he knew how good he was giving it to you.

"I'm right there..."

"Cum all over my cock, beautiful."

You squealed into the pillow you’d been gripping, scrunching your nose at how fucking good he felt filling you to the brim. Daniel eased your thrashing body through the shockwaves, making sure you felt every last writhe of pleasure – every nerve set alight by the fire burning in your stomach as that perfectly tied knot quickly unravelled. He was holding on for dear life, cursing how tight you felt coming around his aching cock.

"I need to see your face, baby. Look at me." 

Daniel’s raspy voice snapped you back to reality as your hips rocked violently against his. That and your blown-out pupils boring into his was enough to send him tumbling over the edge, unloading everything he had and more.

Daniel clutched your shuddering thighs with his searing fingertips as he bucked one, two, three times and placed one of his shaky palms against the hotel wall, trying to catch his breath as he filled you up. Your eyes were lazily shut, slowly regaining some semblance of consciousness and clawing at the skin on Daniel’s abdomen – attempting to soothe him through his high. Selfishly, you were too caught up in your own that you’d forgotten he was even still there. You'd make up for that later.

For now, you were in bliss. Laboured breathing filled the comfortable silence as you searched for one another, floating back down to the real world.

"Come back to me," Daniel teased quietly as a sly grin swept across your face, eyes closed and skin still tingling from his hot touch. He fell beside you and rolled off the bed in search of something, anything to clean up the mess you’d made together.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," You whispered back, earning a hoarse chuckle in return. Daniel looked like a mirage on a hot summers day when you opened your eyes and watched him exit the en suite, tissue box in hand.

"What a review."

Proudly boasting after sex was a regular occurrence with Daniel and you loved it; encouraged it even. He chucked the tissue away and practically tripped back into bed, still tipsy and feeling the full effects now that he wasn't under your intoxicating spell. At least for now, anyway.

He flicked off the lamp and sent the room into complete darkness before you felt his warm arm snaking around your naked waist, pulling you into his pounding chest. You were exhausted and almost numb from the long night but satisfied above all else. Thirst well and truly quenched.

You could always rely on Danny for that.

click for more of my writing if you're interested.

[whillywisp]

moments in between. pt. 1

⚠︎ | moments of rest and unrest between lovers who are afraid, who hestitate, and who see little sense in peace. proceed with caution.

Summary: reader disappears suddenly during the funeral of her fallen District partner, who had died at her own hands, and comes back home to her lover's grief.

Category: requested.

Timeline: set post 70th Hunger Games, one month after reader won.

Tags : angst, destructive love; mild comfort towards the end,

Warnings: implied canon typical violence, toxic relationship, toxic coping mechanisms, PTSD, implied suicide attempt, implied self harm, destructive behaviour.

Pairing: Finnick Odair X Reader

“Where were you?”

She didn't look at him, too focused on dragging the bag in her hands next to him. It looked heavy, he noted mildly, and he wondered what on earth was in it, why his girl—his victor—was carrying it around.

She looked up from the floor, strands of her wet hair sticking to the sides of her face, and his heart sank at the blank, unfocused gaze that met his.

“Out.”

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper in check, to calm his racing heart, that was still twisted into a knot of fear in his chest that refused to loosen as he slammed the receiver back in it's place.

"Out where?" He asked, his face twisting in bewilderment as she walked past him, carrying the strange bag, into the kitchen. He watched her as placed it on the counter and took plastic containers out, blinking when he saw them full of steaming, spicy crab stew. “Doll—”

“I went to the market,” she mumbled distractedly as she looked for bowls and a ladle. “Ate dinner with a friend. Brought back some stew for you. I'll make you some ric—”

“You left a funeral, Piers' funeral, went missing for nine hours and now you want me to believe you just went to eat dinner with a friend?” He asked, staring at the girl in front of him as if she was speaking in a completely different language.

“Mhmm.”

And he immediately knew something was wrong.

Finnick knew her better than anyone, anyone, and he knew that she would never do this. Piers Morgan had died by her hands in the arena. She wouldn't abandon his funeral for nothing. She wouldn't miss a chance to apologise to his parents for his sacrifice, despite the fact that it would get her into trouble.

She wouldn't. But she had.

And now, he couldn't even think beyond the sheer amount of anger suffocating him. He couldn't think beyond the worry etched in the lines of Mags' aging features or the hysteria that suffocated Annie. He couldn't think beyond the way he could feel his heart nearly give out from fear, of the way he nearly ripped his hair out in the last nine hours calling everyone under the sun to help him find her—

“Do you think this is some kind of joke?” He asked quietly, his eyes trained on her, on the soaked fabric of her black dress, clinging to her skin, on the way her fingertips had turned blue from the rain she had been walking around in. “Do you think it's funny? Scaring the shit out of everyone like this? Do you know what you have put me through for the past nine hours—”

“I needed some time alone—”

“And you couldn't wait to have that alone time for an hour?” He asked, letting out an incredulous laugh. “You couldn't tell me before you went off to God knows where—”

“That's the fucking point isn't it?” She asked, letting out a short, sardonic laugh, making the room go still, freezing him in his place. Part of him was glad, relieved at the sight of an emotion, even if it was anger, in her eyes. He couldn't stand the lifeless grief that stained her skin like indigo on ivory.

“I needed a few hours of feeling like a normal human being. One that doesn't have blood on her hands. One that doesn't have cash deposited into a bank account from the Capitol because she killed people. I needed a few hours of feeling like myself again and I can't do that with one of you constantly breathing down my fucking neck!"

“Well, guess what? You're not normal!” Finnick shouted back, trying not to breathe too hard because God his heart, his heart hurt. He could feel the way shards of his ribs and glass of her words and his own stuck in the soft tissues and making it bleed. “You're a fucking Victor and I'm your fucking mentor and that means you don't go disappearing on me for nine hours!”

But even that did little stop the venom flowing from his lips.

“You think I enjoy babysitting you?” He asked stepping up to her, staring down at the way his own, twisted features reflected in her empty eyes. “You think I enjoy having to watch your every move and keep my eyes on you all the time? You think I like waking up every morning with a knot in my stomach wondering if you'll still be breathing by the end of the day?”

Poison. He was poison.

“I never asked you to care!” She screamed back, making him flinch back a little his chest heaving. “I didn't ask you to care! I didn't ask you to do anything for me! It's not my fault that you can't be a normal mentor who can't give up after his job is done! Your job was done when my time in the arena ended and it's not my fault that you don't recognise that!”

“Well, that's fucking unfortunate because sadly, for both of us, I do care. Beyond what my job description entails.” He snapped at her, breathless at the sight of her rage, stunned by the fact that despite her state, despite the unbound tempers, she still was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

He leaned against the kitchen island, rubbing his shaking hands across his face as he tried to breathe, tried to see beyond the red and blue of their combined rage.

“You can't keep doing this, baby,” he whispered, looking at her through the thin film of moisture in his eyes, pleading, begging her to stop hurting him. “Y-You can't keep doing this. You can't disappear for hours like this and-and come back looking like you jumped into the fucking ocean—”

“Go home, Finnick.”

“I thought I lost you. I thought you tried again—”

“Please stop it and go home.”

“And-And then you walked in through the door, looking like t-that and not saying a word and I knew, I knew you did. I knew you tried to leave again—”

“Then go home! Then go home if I scare you so much! Go home if I'm so fucking terrifying!” She screamed, slapping her hands down on his chest and he gasped, his very breath lost at the way her wet hair curled like tendrils of smoke.

“I am home!” He shouted back, grabbing her wrists before she could do it again. He tugged her as close as he could, leaning his forehead against hers, trying to ignore the way she flinched at his touch, at the way his fingertips pressed into the lines on her wrists.

“I am home,” he repeated firmly, ignoring the blood staining his fingertips, his lips trembling against the cold of her skin. “I am home. And so are you. And you need to stop this. You need to stop hurting yourself, baby— please just listen to me!”

Her blank eyes snapped up to meet his, and he pressed his lips to hers desparately, begging her to come back to him, to please come back from the world he had lost her to.

“You can't keep hurting yourself,” he whispered, gently pushing back strands of her hair, wiping away the tear teetering on her lower lashline with his thumb, leaving behind a streak of red in his wake. “You can't disappear like that again, ever. And you absolutely cannot go anywhere alone, not with the way you are acting these days. You can't—”

“I don't want to do this anymore,” she whispered, her lips trembling, breaking whatever was left of his heart. “I c-can't do this. I'm not meant to be a-a Victor. I'm not. I can't live like this anymore—”

“Yes, you can,” he whispered, shaking his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead, cheek, nose before finally on her lips, desparate for her to feel him, to know that he was here, right here and that he would never leave. “You survived the Games, you'll survive this too. You'll be fine. We'll be fine.”

“I'm so sorry,” she choked out in a breathless sob, crumbling in his arms like fine snow. “I'm s-so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

I'm so sorry that I can't stop hurting you.

“It's okay,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her, tight and misplaced as if he was trying to hold too many pieces of her together at once. “You're okay, baby. I'm okay. We're okay. We're going to be okay.”

The lie burned his tongue like acid and his lungs like the cigarettes he smoked. But even if it did little to ease the fear and pain and grief and rage clawing at her skin like vultures asking for their share of her flesh, he'd do it again. He pressed a kiss into her hair and prayed to whoever would listen, to accept his lie this once to give him a truth in exchange. This once.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ •─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A/N: Written in the middle of a study break, on Tumblr before being unleashed into the world and so please be kind. English is not my first language so if it has some weird lines then that's why. Inspired by the song above but not a song fic. I have been burnt out and unable to write for a while but this has been on my mind for the last few days. Hope you enjoy.

All my love,

Moon.

[justjessame]

Light Through the Darkness: Chapter 64

Damon wrapped himself in the distraction he found in Rose. She didn’t remind him of any part of his past - or what he lost. In her he could pretend that he hadn’t lost the comfort of the one person in his life that hadn’t judged him in his youth, who hadn’t held as tightly to the pain of betrayal that he’d wrought against her after all the years they’d been apart, and who had finally had one too many reminders that he wasn’t the man she imagined him to be. Rose wasn’t Abigail in the slightest and in that he found comfort - strange as that might sound to someone else.

She wasn’t Elena either, even as she agreed to help keep her safe. And that too was a balm for his soul. While the dead ringer for Katherine Pierce acted in the exact opposite ways as her doppleganger - hellbent on dying for her loved ones in some suicide pact with morality - Rose helped keep him grounded and keep her ass alive, despite her best efforts. Stefan seemed willing to give his girlfriend anything, including her willingness to die. So a distraction was JUST what Damon needed.

The cruel reminder of his own hubris came when Jules bit Rose in retaliation for - shit - a ton of bad deeds. Ripping Mason Lockwood’s heart out didn’t endear him to her. Neither did trying to spike her drink with wolfsbane at the Grille with Ric’s help. Biting Rose for his crimes wasn’t fair.

Watching a vampire’s decline from a werewolf’s bite wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience again - to see an immortal being go through THAT before being FORCED to slip into her mind and create a safe place for her, a place of her youth just so he could put her down and give her a peaceful end - it was a fate crueler than the usual death a vampire could expect. And one that HE had brought to her.

Reverting to his past bad acts came as naturally as breathing - Abigail was as easy to forget as she had been while she was locked away in her own mind for all those years - at least that’s what he told himself as he introduced himself to that first victim on the dark road who stopped her car out of worry and kindness.

Staring at the girl, because she WAS a girl compared to him, too tall to really remind him of Abi - but the kindness in her eyes was there - the helpfulness, the attempt to pull him out of the darkness that was hovering around him like a cloak, that was pure Abigail Morgan and he just couldn’t -

“I have a secret. I have a big one, but I've never said it out loud. I mean, what's the point?” He wasn’t seeing her, this young inconsequential girl who had the ignorant need to try to save a stranger. “It's not gonna change anything. It's not gonna make me good. Make me adopt a puppy. I can't be what other people want me to be, what she wants me to be.” The she, Elena Gilbert or Abigail Morgan? Elena, of course. Because Abigail had never wanted him to be ANYTHING other than himself, and that's the joke, wasn’t it? The cosmic joke of his very existence. That he’d changed, truly changed for Katherine and lost Abi once, and now? “This is who I am, Jessica.” He wasn’t paying attention to Jessica, to this human child. Not really, his mind’s eye was on Abigail Morgan - on what COULD have been with her. On the life they MIGHT have had, if only - “Because, you are my existential crisis. Do I kill you, or do I not kill you?” He was growing angry, not at her - of course he wasn’t angry at her. Why would he ever be mad at Abi? She’d done nothing wrong. And not at, what was her name again? Right. “But I have to, Jessica, because I'm not human. And I miss it. I miss it more than anything in the world. That is my secret. But there's only so much hurt a man can take.”

It was over before he could process it, before he thought about it - the blood could at least distract him. Right?

Abigail wasn’t in the loop of just how terrible everything was turning out for Damon and his friends - at least not the ones she’d only seen in visions. She was up to her eyebrows in flour and baking mishaps. Alright, not all of her attempts were ruined - and it was these more or less edible bites that she was wrapping up and putting in a lined basket to take to Ric’s lady-love.

Cat was watching from a safe distance - his fur bearing the hallmarks of having gotten too close and learning the errors of being too curious for his own good. She’d tried to soothe his wounded pride by telling him how the white powder made him look distinguished, but his blue rimmed green eyes were staring holes in her with distrust at just how honest her compliments might be.

“Honestly, Cat,” Abi offered with a shake of her head, “would I lie to you?”

He arched his back and yawned, making it clear that he thought less of her word than she did when he turned away from her to stare out the window. Fighting her urge to laugh, she went back to work on the collection of cookies. She’d texted Ric earlier and learned that Jenna was feeling much better than she had when she’d first been impaled by Elena’s less hospitable lookalike.

As she worked, she kept one eye on her phone and one eye on the street. It had been too quiet for too long - surely acting Mayor Lockwood would swoop down and insist on some community required volunteerism. None came, but Cat realized she was leaving when she started putting her things in her trusty bag - phone, grimoire, grabbing her keys and the handle of the basket - he jumped down from his spot at the window and worked diligently to make the journey to the door one fraught with fears of tripping over him as he wound himself through her legs.

“If you don’t trip me,” Abi muttered, looking over the basket at the fluffy cat that was purring as he rubbed against her ankles. “I promise I’ll be home soon and I’ll spend ALL evening curled up with you.”

Closing and locking the door securely behind her, and in Cat’s mewing face, a chill crept up her spine - the type that came from someone watching from afar. Her eyes snapped shut as she swallowed down her annoyance at the certainty that it must be Damon or someone he compelled to keep a watchful eye on her - like he’d had Ric do when they first met. Reminding herself that she couldn’t stop him from a fool’s errand, nor could she change whatever course he was one - she could only continue on her own forward - she straightened her back and her head rose.

Luka Martin watched as the Morgan witch carefully put a basket into the passenger’s side of the Mini Cooper parked in her driveway along with a messenger bag. He studied the young woman, tiny and elfin, but no different looking from most of the students he matriculated with at Mystic Falls High School. His father had told him how much power he’d felt when he’d met her at the store, but standing across the street, hidden by the tree line, all he saw was a young woman dressed in jeans, a tank top, leather jacket and boots. Her long honey brown hair was braided over her shoulder, and he hoped, as he watched her slide into the driver’s seat, that Elijah’s obsession with her was warranted.

As she drove away, he considered the players in what he hoped wouldn’t end up a tragedy - Bonnie Bennett, who he’d already me; the Salvatore brothers, Damon and Stefan, who were circling Elena Gilbert; Elena Gilbert herself, the focus of Klaus and who they should keep in their sights - and Abigail Morgan, who Elijah wanted kept within reach - but not necessarily under constant surveillance. She wasn’t a player in this particular play - and Luka wasn’t sure what part she was playing at all, but he hoped like hell that she wasn’t going to make it all go up in flames.

[father-jude]

He shook his head, "You're always welcome Ric." It was obvious that there was something weighing down the younger man. And Jude could understand the feeling. A millstone of grief heavy around the neck. He came around his cluttered desk as Ric leaned against the door. Jude watched Ric as the other man nearly melted into a puddle on the floor. The next words came out in a rush and sliced through Jude. Too close. It was too close to what Jude's thoughts were doing. But he came over and sat down on the floor heavily, his leg making the process awkward. But he sat next to Ric, back against the door. He began shaking his head. If they started down the dark spiral of 'what if' it wouldn't end. The guilt and pain would drown them both. It was a terrible day it seemed for loss. Jude looked at Ric's face as the young man asks the question and Jude wondered if Ric could hear his heart rip in half. Because Jude would swear it had a sound. Jude felt the tears well up in his eyes and he turned his head to look into the office, looking up at the bright sky through the small window behind his desk. He took a minute before taking out a handkerchief and bringing it to his face. He nodded, "He got it." The words were quiet in the small room as they sat shoulder to shoulder. And put his hand to his mouth. Rubbing his lips against his own hand slowly, like he could hold the words in that he wanted to say but didn't know how. There was a lot inside of what Ric had just told him. But the details didn't change the simple facts...

Mathias was dead. Mathias was dead. And a void opened up inside of Jude. A wide and dark gulf filling with an ocean of sadness. He reached his arm around Ric's shoulder's and hugged the younger man. Because he couldn't speak. If he opened his mouth he wasn't sure what would come out. Sobbing or screaming. And that wouldn't help either of them. He reached for ritual and the Peace Prayer of Saint Francis came up. -Lord, Make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love;Where there is injury, pardon; Where there is doubt, faith; Where there is despair, hope; Where there is darkness, light;Where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek To be consoled, as to console; To be understood, as to understand;To be loved, as to love; For it is giving that we receive.And it's in pardoning that we are pardoned, And it's in dying that we are born to Eternal Life. Amen- But the prayer was not as comforting as he needed. He needed something to grab onto, a way to make the prayer real. So he offered comfort to another because his own heart was broken and there was no comfort for him. Finally he managed to whisper out, "Not your fault."

John Doe. Passed within minutes of his arrival to the hospital.

Ricardo could only stare at the words for a second, but they burned into his memory. They replayed themselves in black ink that slowly turned crimson. Mathias was dead, Tristan had come close. How self-absorbed had he been to have let this happen? Tristan, Tristan of all people, could've died. His brain goes fuzzy with that thought, and blurs even more when the words flash again.

John Doe. Passed within minutes of his arrival to the hospital.

When he's focused again, he realizes he's outside. He doesn't even know how he ended up outside, though he vaguely remembers something about food. It hits again, like an invisible fist to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him, the fact that Mathias is dead. His friend was dead, and he was supposed to be okay with that. Without realizing it, his feet had guided him to the church. Of course, it made sense to come here. This had been his safe place for his friendship with Mathias to grow, a place for their world to finally be one. Now he all he could think about was the garden, the stray cats, Frog, and the way he would never see his friend again. Out of habit, Ricardo looked for him. He goes to sit at the pew they would usually meet at, burying his face in the palm of his hands, it's only then that he finally lets himself cry. He prayed, too. He prayed that Mathias was not scared in his last moments, that death came swiftly , that he didn’t suffer, and that above all, Jude’s words rang true, and they would be forgiven for the sins they committed on earth. Then his sister comes to mind, Ricardo is comforted knowing now they are together. At least she has someone like him, a good person, to look after her now. He hopes that Mathias can forgive him for not going to a funeral, if there was a public one, and he hopes that Mathias knew that within Ricardo he truly did have a friend. Friend…the world trails his mind to Jude. The priest's name comes after a couple of minutes, without giving it a second thought, Ricardo silently makes his way to where his office is located. He lifts his shirt to wipe away as many tears as he could, trying to compose himself a little bit, before entering Jude's office. "Father Jude, I'm sorry to come unannounced. I honestly don't really know how I got here. One minute I was at home and the next," he gestures around, "here." Ricardo closes the door behind him, pressing his back against it. He lets out a soft, sad sigh, "No, not really." Slowly he slides down, until he’s planted on the ground, head hanging in defeat, “I lost a friend, Father Jude. I lost a friend at the hands of another, and it’s supposed to be okay with me. I failed in protecting someone who I was supposed to protect with my life, instead he almost lost his, and in the process of it all, another person did lose theirs. I just keep thinking…if I had been there, if I hadn’t been so stupid, so hung up on shit in the past, like always, if I hadn’t been late, then maybe this whole mess could’ve been avoided.” Inevitable, Mathias had become a Brotherhood target long ago, if it hadn’t been Tristan, it would’ve been someone else. “But that’s not the way it went, and there is no return from death.” Without needing to say who it was, Ricardo tearfully looks to meet Father Jude’ gaze, “At least tell me, did my friend ever get his keychain?”

[dodinaslesavage]

The Cars - Dangerous Type (1979)

R.I.P. Ric Ocasek

[benjamin-orr]

My heart hurts. I cannot believe this is real. Words can’t help but fail me right now. I love you, Ric Ocasek. Your songs will stay with me forever. You changed my life. Rest In Peace.

[mannyblacque]

“Man, I love this shit. They just don’t make them like they used to”.

R.I. P. Ric Ocasek 

[cutesybatsimagines]

Ric Grayson Imagine~

After a long night, the reader comes home to find Ric is already there. But is he alone?

You pushed the door to you and your boyfriends shared apartment open, letting your shoulders sag as you enter. You had your airpods in, listening to whatever came on from your Soundcloud. It was late but you didn’t bother with turning the light on, as you didn’t want to burn your eyes after having been traveling in the dark for so long. 

You dropped your bag gently on the couch, making sure to be quiet with all of your actions as to not bother your neighbors. You and Ric had already been kicked out of three other apartments. You swore the landlords were conspiring against you as there was no way either of you were being “too loud” or “disruptive” or even “violent towards neighbors”! You had no idea where they were getting these ideas from, you were always very polite and you knew Ric wouldn’t have done anything to compromise your living situation. Sure he gambled in the past, but he was a changed man.

Speaking of your boyfriend, you weren’t completely sure if he was home yet, but you could tell from your living room that you guys bedroom door was cracked. You turned your tunes down a bit, making your way down the hall. You decided to stop by the bathroom first and freshen up. You messed with your hair a bit and straightened your clothes before heading back into the hallway and towards you and Ric’s shared room. 

You pushed the door open and felt your heart drop. Ric was definitely home, and he had brought a woman home with him. Your right airpod fell out of your ear, and now you could hear your boyfriends and his affairs moans. 

“R-Ric,” you stuttered out, hand tightening on the door knob.

Ric flinched back, looking over his shoulder at you. The girl under him seemed to jump start, she practically sprang up, pulling the blanket up to cover her body. But it was too late, you had seen everything. 

“Babe- (Y/N), I-” Ric started but you interrupted.

“Shut up! And you,” you pointed an accusing finger at the girl in his bed, “get the fuck out of here.”

She didn’t seem to hesitate, and as she hopped up and grabbed her clothes, flinging them on before leaving, Ric grabbed his joggers and pulled them on. You scowled down at him, tears starting to fall from your eyes as your frustration and anger bubbled over. 

“Babe it wasn’t what it looked like!” Ric tried, standing up and ambling over towards you. 

“Wasn’t what it looked like? Do I look like I was born yesterday!?” You yelled, neighbors be damned.

Ric did a “so-so” gesture, fueling your hurt feelings. “Whats wrong with you?” You shouted at him, “Do I mean anything to you?”

Ric reached over like he was going to touch your arm, but you jerked back from him. He sighed, “of course you do. You mean the world to me (Y/N), you know that!”

You sneered at him, pushing past him and into the bedroom, looking in the closet for your suitcase. “Then why cheat on me?”

Ric made a sort of shrugging motion, scratching at the back of his head. “You know how I get when I’m drunk. I wasn’t thinking right. I was lonely and you weren’t here.”

You piled some clothes into your suitcase, ignoring him for the time being. You wanted to scream at him, yell that he was unjustified and I terrible boyfriend and an even worse person, but you kept your lips sealed, knowing it was better that way. For now. 

You looked into your dresser drawer, searching for you emergency money/savings. You had been taking bits of your pay and keeping it in hopes that you could make enough to take you and Ric away from Bludhaven and somewhere nice, even if just for a weekend. And it was nice to have some money saved in case an emergency like this occurred.  

Not finding it, you searched more drawers, finding none of them contained your money. You moved to the opposite side of the room, stepping past Ric, and checked in every place you could image for your money.

When you finally stopped looking, the room felt eerily still as neither you nor Ric moved or said a word.

You broke the silence as you turned towards him, asking him in an even voice, “Ric, where is my backup money?”

His arms stiffened, you could see he had sweat building on his forehead and he wasn’t quite meeting your eyes. “I may have borrowed it,” he admitted. 

“Borrowed it? What does that mean, Ric?! What do you mean you ‘borrowed it!?” You yelled at him coming over to where he was standing.

He looked at you, eyes glossed over, “I went gambling-”

“I thought you had quit gambling?” You interrupted, practically seething.

“I had! But my luck was up, so I thought it would go pretty well. And well...”

“It didn’t?”

“No, and then Kelly-”

You held your hand up to silence him, “was Kelly the girl you were sleeping with?’

He nodded and continued, “and then Kelly bought me a few beers, and it was fine, honestly! But then she started coming onto me, and I was going to go home, but she trailed after me and one thing led to another.”

“How much did you lose? Just my money?” You hissed out, jabbing him with your finger accusingly. 

“Nah, all of it.”

You felt yourself go still before you took a deep, slow breath. “All of it?”

“Yea, like all the money we had in savings,” he supplied. 

You felt more tears start to fall from your tired eyes, “all in one night?”

He shook his head,” no, this was about three weeks ago.”

You felt something in you snap. It felt like your veins were on fire, all you could see was red. You reared back and punched Ric as hard as you could, your satisfaction hardly lasting when he only jerked back and cupped his jaw. 

“Ric get the hell out of my apartment right now.”

“Babe, lets talk-”

“Ric I swear to whatever god is out there I will kill you if you don’t leave this instant!” You screamed into his face, pushing him out the room and cringing when he managed to step on your fallen airpod. 

He held his hands up in surrender, twisting out of your grasp and towards the front door.

“I’ll come back when you’re more calm, we can work through this, baby,” he promised, stepping outside. 

You grabbed the door and glared at him, “Ric, if you ever show up here again I’ll call the cops. Get out of here and never come back.” You shut the door on his face, ignoring his hurt look. 

You slumped back into your room and collapsed onto your bed, questioning what you were supposed to do now.

[zombiesbecrazy]

2 or 11 for the hug meme, for Dick, please, if either of those inspire you ;)

Dick’s batons slipped from his fingers and landed on the ground with a clatter.

He had thought that he had seen her on the other side of the field, along with the reinforcements that Hal had brought in, but there hadn’t been time to really process it then, not when the gates to Apokalips had opened up and Darkseid’s warriors had been pouring through, wave after wave.

Now was a different story.

“Donna?” His voice was hoarse and his mouth was dry, words shaking slightly as they came out and he wasn’t sure that she had heard him because he had scarcely made a noise. But as always, she had, pausing mid-step and then turned slowly, hair in her face and practically glowing in post fight adrenaline.

It had been forever and a day since he had seen her like that. Or at all.

When had been the last time that he had seen her? It had been months, on a mission with the new Titans team dealing with the source wall madness. Then he had gone home to Gotham to help Bruce out while he was on jury duty and then…

He hadn’t made it back.

He almost hadn’t made it.

After the fake memories that the Court of Owls had placed in his head had been purged, when he was back to being himself again, it had been simpler to start with picking up the pieces of his Gotham and Bludhaven life first. So many people in one spot and even though it was always chaotic, it was a familiar chaos and fit like an old sweater.

He hadn’t told his family when it happened, that he had his memories back, that he was Dick again. The look of surprise on Bruce’s face when he had strolled up to the Manor front door, let himself in and started explaining why Ewoks were the true heroes of Star Wars out of nowhere was priceless and was going to be impossible to erase from his memories no matter how many bullets he took to the head or who the cults were that brain washed him in the future.

The crushing hug that had followed had been pretty good too.

There was a lot to that he had missed. Where years had disappeared from his life before, now that his original memories were back and he was himself again, Dick was yet again playing catch up on his own life. Months had passed while he was hiding from his friends and family, striking out of his own as Ric, and there had been so much that he had missed or had chosen to ignore.

It was so good to be back, and while it was overwhelming, reuniting with his family was fantastic, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was hiding something from him. Something bad and dark had happened that he didn’t know about and it was obvious they were going to pretend it hadn’t happened until the last possible moment. He could have dug into it himself but part of him was grasping tight onto the blissful peace of ignorance. Whatever it was, it was awful and he was okay being in denial, if only for a little bit longer.

It ended up being Jason who had to break to him and even then it hadn’t been intentional.

They had met up at a pub away from the rest of the family. Jason caught him up about his ownership of the Iceberg Lounge, his accidental acquisition of some super powered youths as part of Luthor’s strange scheme and then showed him about thirty pictures of his new dog over burgers, fries and a pitcher of cheap beer.

“It’s not my dog, Dickface. She just follows me around.”

“Sure,” Dick said with a straight face, as if Jason hadn’t just told him about why definitely-not-Jason’s-dog preferred blue tennis balls over green. “What’s Roy say about all this? He’s always been more of a cat person. He can’t be thrilled about your new four legged sidekick.”

“What are you…” Jason froze part way to raising a fry to his mouth, first confusion and then realization crossing over his face. “No one told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Shit.” Jason’s face dropped and he suddenly became overly interested in his cutlery on the table rather than looking at Dick. “This shouldn’t be coming from me. Bruce or Barbara or anyone else but me. I’m sorry, Dick.”

Jason told him the story the best that he could in starts and stops and awkward pauses. It was obvious that he didn’t know all the details, but what he did know was like someone had ripped Dick’s heart out and shown it to him before shoving it back in his chest just to make sure that it kept beating. Roy was dead. Gnaark and La’Gann and others were gone too and somehow Wally had done it accidentally and had then vanished from Iron Heights while awaiting trial. No one had seen him since.

Dick bolted, leaving Jason with the bill and probably more regret than he deserved.

Dick wasn’t proud of it but he had retreated back to Bludhavan for a week after that night. He locked himself away in his apartment, going through boxes that he had that had been stored after Titan’s Tower had been shut down. One of the boxes had pictures of the five of them, young and less young, smiling and laughing with their arms wrapped around each other. In another he found an assortment of clothes, none of which actually belonged to him; just things that had been tossed in a box randomly in the rush to leave that he had planned on sorting out later. Donna’s favourite navy blue hoodie. A shirt that Roy had worn until it was worn with holes. Garth’s scarf from his first attempt at knitting. A pair of pyjama bottoms with lightning bolts all over them that had to be Wally’s.

The glass in his hand smashed against the wall before Dick even realised he had picked it up. A few more followed.

Dick couldn’t understand how they were just gone and he hadn’t even been able to grieve properly about it and now it almost felt too late somehow.

The broken glassware and screaming didn’t do much.

Putting on all of his friends discarded clothes helped a little, but it wasn’t right either.

He ended up doing what he always did and threw himself back into his work, trying to what he could to help others while ignoring his own pain, when the war had started in DC with the portal swallowing up where the White House used to be, with monster after monster breaching into their planet. Dick was one of the first to show up, the front line of defense. He just got his world back and he wasn’t going to sit back and let some interdimensional aliens take it away from him.

Now as the dust was settling, the air smelled like the remnants of parademons and a city had been destroyed, Dick’s attention was only on one thing, one person among a field of heroes and wreckage.

“Dick?”

Donna dropped her sword and ran at him, stopping short right in front of him, staring at his face like she was worried that he would vanish into smoke before her eyes, dreaming and too impossible to believe that he was really there. Dick reached out and squeezed her hand, jolting her out of her trance.

“Garth and I. We thought we were it.” Her eyes were welling with tears, and she placed her hand on his cheek, thumb tracing the outline of his mask carefully. “You’re you again. We got you back. I didn’t think I was going to get any of you back this time.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I could ha-”

“Shut up and hug me, Boy Wonder.” Despite her words she was the one who made the first move, pulling him into her. Clinging to her, his fingers clutching to her back, wrapped in her hair, and he felt one of her earrings digging into his face. He could feel her hold on him, strong but compassionate in a way that only an Amazon could hug.

A sob escaped him unexpectedly but as soon as it did the floodgates opened and for the first time since Dick had been back, he let go completely, collapsing into Donna’s arms in a mess of tears.

His grief may be late for some, but it never would be too late here. Not with her.

Hug Drabble Prompt List

[riclaurance]

Peace to all the people supporting my music... ✌ The amount of work and dedication i put into my music over the years i couldnt think of having to stop for 3 years as i had to lay down the roots and foundation for my family and start providing for them. In this time i got married, we fully renoed our house and i got to spend some quality time with my Dad. Worked extra hard for my family and our future. It started with 3 of us including my wife, my dog Sammy and myself. Then i was lucky enough to be given the best gift of all... my beautiful son Alessio. ❤ oh what a ride its been. In this time my Dog sammy past away and my growing little family of 4 dropped to 3. I was shattered. 🤯 �� This was the most important 3 years of my life. Looking back to all these achievements. I said to myself its time to get back into music again. And i asked myself why.... I do it for the love of the music, for the love of my son, for the love of my wife. I do it for the people who support my music, even if its just my wife, my son dancing all dancing crazy around the house and my dog Sammy in puppy heaven wiggling his tail. He literally was the co producer for most of my records RIP Sam DOG. 😇 I do it for the ones who take the time to listen. I DO IT FOR ME, BECAUSE THATS JUST WHO I AM. THIS IS WHAT I LOVE TO DO. I MAKE MUSIC BECAUSE I BELIEVE MUSIC IS WHAT EDUCATES PEOPLE WHO ARE LOOKING FOR SPECIFIC DETAILS TO GUIDE THEM THROUGH LIFE. THAT THEY DONT GET THROUGH OTHER SYSTEMS. AND THATS WHAT MAKES ME THE PERSON I AM TODAY. THANK YOU TO ALL THE MUSICIANS AND SONG WRITERS SINGERS AND MUSIC INFLUENCERS FOR BEING SUCH AN INFLUENCE IN MY LIFE.✌ I MAKE MUSIC BECAUSE I LOVE MUSIC. DONT GET IT MIXED UP. - Ric Laurance ❤✌#trending #newmusiccomingsoon #december #publishing #musicbiz #musicproducer #music #lyricist #songwriters #producerlifestyle #recordproducer #singersofinstagram #singer #singersongwriters #lifesessons #life #experience #hardwork #motivation #peace #love #world #change #focus #art #artist #dreambig #goals #gogetit #humble (at Sydney, Australia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CU2BqN-FHhC/?utm_medium=tumblr

[fateburdened]

⋆ ⠀⠀⠀࿐ྃ ▸ ; ⠀ [ jodi lyn o'keefe. forty. cis female ] was that just JOSETTE LAUGHLIN, I saw coming out of THE CEMETERY? the WITCH is known to be + METICULOUS, but she could also be - INTRANSIGENT and can be best described by A FRESH WHITE LAB COAT, COFFEE CUPS TO MAKE UP FOR NIGHTMARES THAT KEEP HER AWAKE ALL NIGHT, AND FOLDED PICTURES HIDDEN AWAY FROM VIEW THAT ARE WORTH THEIR WEIGHT IN GOLD TO HER. [ alix. 22. est. she/her ]

born and raised in portland, josette parker was destined to lead her coven, one way or another. the merge would decide the capacity, but when her parents came to doubt her brothers ability to lead, they started having kids to replace them, successfully doing so when olivia and lucas were born. when kai figured it out, he tried to rig the events in his favor, and ended up in a prison world for his efforts. that left jo to have to find her own path, and she did, becoming a doctor, creating life-saving medical equipment, working as a combat medic. everything was good, she’d even fallen in love, and was expecting two babies with her own personal indiana jones, and then it all came crashing down at her wedding. it wasn’t all a loss though, her daughters survived through a spell, and while in peace, she got a front-row seat to watching her children grow up, and to see ric be the father she always knew he could be.

the first time she was ripped from peace, it felt like a dream. josette was with her daughters, with alaric, and everything felt right. then she found out her dream was a nightmare as she attacked her own daughter, and realized that they truly couldn’t have everything, not if she wanted her daughters safe. so she did the only thing she could for them, and she found herself at peace once again.

this time, when she woke up dazed and confused in mystic falls, she knew better than to go to the school. she needed to keep her head down, and wait and see. she was sure it had to be just like last time, that she was a monster. josette laughlin couldn’t hurt her children again, she couldn’t hurt ric again.

before they were sent to the prison world, it was easier to keep her head low. she’d hidden away at whitmore, gotten a small apartment, doing everything she could to keep herself busy and away from mystic falls, but then she finally decided it was time to go home. there hadn’t been any episodes, she felt normal, and staying away from her family was starting to eat her alive.

now she’s in the prison world with everyone else from mystic falls, unaware of what brought them here, or what was going on with the family she loved so early. so, now she’s in for a hell of a reunion  

[krispyweiss]

Reports: Cars Frontman Ric Ocasek Dead

Ric Ocasek, the rhythm guitarist, singer and songwriter for the Cars, died Sept. 15 in New York, according to multiple media outlets.

There has been no announcement on the Cars or Ocasek’s social media platforms. But friends, including the Red Hot Chili Peppers Flea - who called Ocasek an “interesting, smart, kind, funny man who made incredible records” - have been eulogizing him online.

“I loved those Cars albums when I was a teenager,” he wrote on Instagram. “Perfect pop songs ... absolute candy.”

Ocasek, author of songs such as “Candy-O,” “You Might Think,” “Good Times Roll” and “Night Spots,” was reported to be 75, though many sources list his age as 70. No cause of death was given.

“So sad,” Peter Frampton tweeted. “Such a great writer, singer, player, producer. My thoughts are with his family.”

The Cars released their self-titled debut in 1978 and followed with a string of successful LPs before splintering in 1987. The band - minus bassist and co-lead vocalist Benjamin Orr, who died in 2000 - reformed briefly in 2011 and was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2018.

“Sorry to hear about Ric Ocasek,” Billy Idol tweeted.” “RIP. Loved his work with the band.”

Outside of the Cars, Ocasek released seven solo records and was a also a sought-after producer who worked on albums by Bad Brains, Suicide, No Doubt. Weezer and others.

The Cribs called Ocasek “a bona fide legend, who seemed to care as much about our record as we did” and said on Facebook he will be remembered for his “his friendship, his artistry, but most of all for his generosity and kindness.”

Ocasek produced three Weezer records and the band said Ocasek’s death left “a massive hole in Weezer's heart.”

“When you were his friend, it was for life, and he was always as generous as could be with his time and care,” Weezer wrote on Facebook.

“We will miss him forever, and will forever cherish the precious times we got to work and hang out with him. Rest in peace and rock on Ric, we love you.”

9/16/19

[gigartdropshispants]

Rest In Peace Ric Ocasek. Thanks for the great music! 🤘🏻 #rip #ripricocasek #ricocasek #thecars #thecarsyouwant #goodtimesroll #vinyl #vinylcollection #vinylrecord #gigart #recordcollection #newwave #powerpop #rockandrollhalloffame #restinpeace https://www.instagram.com/p/B2dBFvlgDVQ/?igshid=17p9zb6am6dvb

[bluboothalassophile]

I honestly don't understand DC always trying to undermine Raven's powers. I read the current comics that she's in and it is so poorly written and boring. They suck at character development and its so fucked up that she's always brushed aside. And also I'll never forgive them for killing Roy and they keep fucking up Jason. These guys went through a lot and I just wanna see them be happy and I want to see more batfamily moments and team ups like in Batman and Robin Eternal.

Hello,

Reasons I am mad about Canon Raven:

She’s ALWAYS depowered; always, and she is literally the very definition of an over powered character. 

When they attempt to over power her again they fuck it up; like in Titans with Raven’s ‘telepathy’; she’s a fucking empath! NEVER has she been a telepath!

She has never been utilized outside of the Titans; which is infuriating on many levels. Because she needs to go solo; with a big comic or go to JL Dark or hell, team her up with Lucifer! I don’t know, but something outside of the fucking Titans!

Her solo series, while hold much promise are always cut short, or tie into nothing about her canon life.

They just severed her connection with her aunt and cousins, further isolating her again.

I am royally pissed that her connection with Victor Stone, a.k.a. Cyborg, (which I think is canonly her BEST familiar relationship EVER, their dynamic is amazing; it’s also an amazing dynamic for Victor too! So why was it cut!?) has been severed, was briefly rekindled only to be discarded again.

She’s always de-aged; sorry @chromium7sky, but I really hate that because I really think she should be about Jason and Tim’s age, hell, I’d even settle her being Dick’s age, just enough de-aging her! At this rate; and I’m sorry @impulse-goblin, she’ll be a RobRae with Carrie Kelley or Matt McGinnis! Which is so not okay because DC is screwing her over royally.

Marv, her creator, can no longer write her well to be engaging; which is sad.

She’s been royally dumbed down; which really fucking pisses me off, because even though N52 SUCKED BALLS, Raven, while bitchy, was always eager to learn; it’s one of her defining traits! She’s super smart, she’s engaging, she’s empathetic and kind, and rebirth has made it so she struggles with school. -.- Explain that to me, please, she’s never been stupid or struggled learning before. And I get trying to connect with modern readers, and making characters relateable, but that was just plain fucking stupid. There are other characters you can do that with, using Raven does not help in anyway.

I will not get into my issues with N52, there’s many, but mainly: WTF is up with Raven’s Entire Personality!? I mean don’t get me wrong, I loved the design she had, and I loved her on Tim’s team, also their entire friendship was amazing, but WTF, what a Bitch. I wanted to smack her.

They either forget she is a magic user, or they forget she’s a demon with demon abilities or something, but it always seems like one or the other is missing with her.

Off side key irritation too: How come her father doesn’t play a larger part of the DC universe and getting heroes to fear him? I mean come on! Titans plays him up to be like Darksied or Lucifer level of terrifying, and the DC universe: Who’s Trigon? WTF is that about!? You want the Only Daughter Of Trigon to have meaning, to show her power, then why the fuck isn’t Trigon more widely known and feared!? Come On People! We have Darksied’s ENTIRE Family feared, but you want to play Trigon off as eviler than Darksied but the entire DC universe outside Titans is like: Who the Fuck is Trigon!?

Kay, Metal hinted at her connection and importance to the Multiverse, but the DC, I don’t know… Forgot? And somehow the entire reason for her being captured, isolated and singled out by the Batman Who Laughed was forgotten. Granted my favorite panel of her and Victor happened because of that, but seriously; MAJOR PLOT HOLE DC! Come on, we aren’t Marvel, cease these plot holes in your big labels! Be grown ups!

Mainstream Raven hurts my Raven loving heart. But her counterparts are pretty cool, like on Earth 1 or Bombshells or the recent Titans movies, definitely liked her in the Titans live action show, and obviously I loved her in the cartoon; not Titan’s Go as that has helped in destroy her and the Titans. 

Now, my issues with Heroes Crisis:

King. Fucking cock teasing bastard tormented us with BatCat for over a year, getting them to the fucking alter then he did that fucking stunt; hell yes I am pissed still, and I am no less angry going into Heroes Crisis.

Kay, now for real.

I have major issues with the plot, thus far, because there doesn’t seem to be one.

Killing Roy and Wally did nothing to further a plot, or even engage in the plot and has just furthered to hurting surrounding characters.

Killing Roy was fucked up and senseless; as a writer I find that appalling.

Killing Wally was unnecessary; especially after all the fucking trouble we had gone through to get that speedster back! I mean COME ON! It’s like you brought him back solely to kill him off, and if that’s the case, someone smack a brain into King’s fucking head.

While the premise of Heroes Crisis was engaging and interesting to read the idea for it, it has been a dismal affair.

Why the fuck are your only suspects Harley Quinn and Micheal Carter, a.k.a. Booster Gold? No seriously want to explain that!? 

There is NO WAY Harley would ever hurt or kill Ivy, just no, and DC I don’t care about trying to cater to people and convincing all of Harley and Ivy are straight, it just wouldn’t happen. Ivy and Harley are in love, and I sincerely doubt, that despite EVERYTHING Harley has done in her life, that she would ever kill the woman she loved.

Also, Micheal Carter has selflessly saved the timeline multiple times, and done so without recognition. Yes, he can be full of himself, but where the hell did King come to the conclusion that Carter was a sociopathic narcissist? Someone please explain the basics of human nature to King; PLEASE! For the love of God, someone! I expect this crap from Lobell!

Now to my fury with the Batfamily in it’s current state:

Rebirth presented us with fairly healthy dynamics between the Batfamily members; which was refreshing as all get out, but now… I’d like to rip DC’s heart out and shove it up their ass for what they’ve done.

First, they allowed King to be the ultimate cock tease! Bastard built up the fucking BatCat wedding to be the wedding of the goddamn century; going to make comic history! And he fucks us over like we’re a two cent whore whilst simultaneously destroying the Batfamily.

Second: who the fuck even ALLOWED Lobdell into DC again to write!? I mean really!? Did you asshole not learn your lesson the first time!?

Third, wtf is up with Ric Grayson; I get it, we’re all exceedingly immature for taking an actually socially acceptable nickname from the 1930′s and perverting it into penis jokes. But news flash, Dick’s character has evolved with taking that in stride and laughing it off. Changing his name only pisses us off and furthers our desires to make dick jokes. 

Fourth: What the fuck are you guys even doing allowing Lobdell near Jason? I get it Lobdell is some ‘big shot’ good ‘big name to have on a comic’ but his writing is shit, I’ve read better stories from Kindergartners. Lobdell is like the Russo brothers of DC, please remove him from our premise, and I petition for us, the fans, to take custody of Jason from Lobdell for the sake of global comic peace. The Dude Can Not For The Love Of God Write. I’m surprised he even knows how to arrange letters on a piece of paper to form words honestly.

Why aren’t Duke and Cass B’s kids? No seriously? Why!? We all know those are his favorite two kids, so wtf are they doing… anywhere else but with the Bats?

Why is Babs Batgirl? Don’t go with that female empowering crap answer, just don’t, she was a better icon as Oracle than as Batgirl. She’s long since outgrown the role, and she had grown beautifully into the role of Oracle, so run this by me again: Why did we take a beautiful survivor, who created empowerment for people with disabilities while remaining a strong female lead and turn her back into Batgirl? Seriously? Someone explain that to me!?

Thank God DC hasn’t fucked up Tim yet, but Can We Please Stop With Evil Batman Tim!? Tim doesn’t even want to be Batman! He Never Has Wanted To Be Batman!

WTF did you do with Damian’s character development? He is not this baby raging Bat anymore who seeks to kill everyone who crosses him. Also what the hell was up with the whole Dami’s got a secret prison thing? That lead to nothing and has since been dropped, but seriously people, who is the lead brain in DC right now allowing this shit!?

Again, I must ask, what’s up with evil Bat futures; have we NO HOPE that these boys can grow up and actually be decent people!? Really. I want to know. I don’t get the options you’ve given these heroes.

Why does B have a double standard when it comes to Kate and Jason; and don’t say it’s because Jason’s killed, Damian’s killed and B is trying to be a good dad to him, so what’s up with this shit!? Is it really so much easier to have the rift between B and Jay than attempt to amend it!? If B has a problem with Jason using guns then the same problem should be applied to Kate; I don’t care about her likability, she’s a bitch and the double standard should cease.

And why is Jason trying to connect with Willis Todd? Willis was an abuse fucker or did Lobdell for get his own canon material again? Someone please remove Lobdell from DC premises! PLEASE! Send him to Marvel or something, I don’t care, but stop allowing him to fuck over Jason because he wants to!

Now, again, I’m brought to the double standards B has and his own reckless behavior. DC please, either find a ethics and morals person to join your writing team, or grow a fucking brain because you are precariously close to having Batman become the killer and the villain.

Why are we isolating the Bats again, when they were so connected at the start of Rebirth? I want to read about the Batfamily BEING A Family! Not this divide and pit against each other crap. 

The worst part of all this is, Rebirth actually started off great! Now it’s a flaming pile of wreckage and I almost wish we’d go back to N52 if only to stop watching the same trainwreck over and over happen.

[jasonsloan]

Wow. This one hits really hard. I’ve been a diehard Cars fan since 1981-82. I remember my dad took me to Exile Records in Butler, PA the day Ric’s first solo LP “Beatitude” was released in ‘82. That was the first LP I ever bought and it was a huge influence on me. Can’t believe he’s gone. Rest In Peace Ric and thanks so much for all the incredible music. . #thecars #ricocasek #rip #sad https://www.instagram.com/p/B2dFTokH5fl/?igshid=8sx3i92qh1j