#and he knows how important we are to her. so. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

its-avalon-08 · 3 days ago

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Could you do a Lando one where he and reader have been together since the beginning of his F1 career and during the current season, where he has a chance to compete for the championship against Verstappen and since he won his first race, reader slowly realizes how distant and focused on winning the drivers' championship he is becoming from her and his fans along with the media also realize this, and after he has a chance to win the race and reduce the advantage against Max, she finally confronts him and they have an argument to the point where he tells her that she is being a distraction and that they should break up and she agrees and packs her things and leaves for Carlos' house for a while and Carlos and Rebecca comfort her and let her stay as long as necessary. And weeks after that, everyone realizes how sad Lando is and sees that Reader is no longer present with him at the races and he sees the stupidity he did due to the pressure he is under and tries in every way to talk to Reader and asking her for a second chance, but to no avail. And when Lando loses the championship, he admits to everyone what an idiot he was for letting the pressure of competing for the title end the most important thing in his life, which is his relationship, and mentions that Reader has always been through his ups and downs and that he only asks that if Reader is watching that interview, she forgive him. And days later, when he returns to Monaco, he hears someone knocking on the door and he opens it and sees Reader with tears in her eyes saying that she saw his interview and that she forgives him

i love u anon I LOVE U

the sound of the woman that loves you (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, neglect

The paddock was buzzing with energy, cameras flashing as media and fans swarmed the track, but Lando Norris walked through it all with a focused, unbreakable gaze. Y/N, his girlfriend of six years, was standing on the sidelines, arms crossed tightly. She knew this season was different – the stakes were higher, and Lando had a real shot at the championship, but something else felt different, too.

She gave him a small wave as he approached, expecting the usual grin, maybe even a quick hug. Instead, he nodded at her, barely slowing his stride.

“Good luck out there, Lando,” she called, keeping her voice light.

He looked back briefly. “Thanks. I need to get to the garage.” And with that, he disappeared into the McLaren motorhome, leaving Y/N in the midst of a crowd of curious onlookers.

She glanced at her phone, scrolling through Twitter to distract herself.

@F1Fanatic2024: “Anyone else feel like Lando's been acting… different lately? He’s so much more serious these days. Miss the old Norris 😕 #ItalianGP” @NorrisNation: “Gotta be the championship pressure. But I miss seeing him and Y/N together, they were always so cute! Now he barely even looks her way… #Monza”

Y/N sighed. The fans weren’t the only ones who noticed. She felt it every day. Since his first win in Silverstone, Lando seemed to have put on a new armor, impenetrable and distant. At first, she chalked it up to the pressure of being a real championship contender, but recently, it felt like there was something more.

Later, In the McLaren Motorhome

“Lando,” she called, poking her head into his team room after qualifying.

He barely looked up from his notes. “Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated. “I thought… maybe we could grab dinner tonight? You know, relax a bit before the race tomorrow?”

He didn’t even pause, scribbling something down. “Sorry, can’t. I have to go over data with the engineers.”

“Oh… okay. Maybe after the race?”

“If it goes well, sure.” He finally looked up, flashing a tight smile. “If I’m going to have any chance at catching up to Max, I can’t waste time right now.”

Her heart sank. She managed a weak smile back. “Of course. I understand.”

But it was hard to ignore the shift. They’d been through so much together, from his first race to his first podium. She remembered the nights they’d stayed up in hotel rooms talking about their dreams and fears. Now, it felt like she was just another face in the paddock.

Race Day

Lando finished second, close on Max’s heels, reducing the gap in the standings. His fans erupted on social media.

@F1Racer2024: “YESSSS! That’s how you do it, Lando! One step closer to the championship!! #TeamLando” @NorrisY/N_Fanpage: “Does anyone else miss the times when Lando would celebrate with Y/N after every race? She was his biggest cheerleader… what happened? 🥺”

As Lando stepped off the podium, Y/N waited in the sidelines, her heart racing. She expected him to come over like he used to, the way he would spot her instantly and pull her into a hug, podium champagne still dripping off him. But instead, he went straight to the team, surrounded by cameras and fans. She stood there, watching, a bit more alone than she’d felt before.

Eventually, he made his way over to her, but even then, it felt rushed.

“Good race,” she said, smiling up at him, hoping to capture a moment of the old Lando.

He nodded, barely slowing down. “Yeah, thanks. Still gotta catch Max, though. Can’t celebrate too much yet.”

She reached out, touching his arm gently. “Lando, you did amazing today. Can we just… have a moment? Just you and me?”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing around. “I can’t right now, Y/N. There’s so much at stake.”

Her face fell, but she nodded. “Right. Of course.”

That Night – Hotel Room

Y/N lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the distance between them like a canyon. She reached for her phone, scrolling through the usual F1 fan accounts and updates, and her heart sank a little further as she read the latest tweets.

@RacingGirl2024: “Remember when Lando used to bring Y/N to all the team celebrations? Now it’s all business with him. #MissThem” @LandoF1Updates: “Lando’s chasing that championship with everything he’s got, but is it just me, or has he left everything else behind? #FocusedButDistant”

She knew it wasn’t just her imagination – everyone saw it. She missed the days when Lando had room in his life for them both, but lately, it seemed like racing was the only thing on his mind.

The door creaked open as Lando finally came in. He looked exhausted, eyes tired and a bit dull, but still carrying the spark of his competitive spirit.

“You’re still awake?” he murmured, slipping off his jacket.

“Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but seeing his drained face, she hesitated. “I just… I miss you, Lando.”

He stopped, giving her an unreadable look. “I’m right here, Y/N.”

“Not really,” she said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like… you’ve already left.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I need to focus right now, okay? This could be my only shot at the championship.”

“I get that, Lando. I’ve always supported you – you know that. But… I didn’t think it would mean losing you.”

He looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “I haven’t gone anywhere, Y/N. Just… give me some time, yeah? This is important to me.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I’ll be here. I just hope you remember who was there from the start.”

Social Media – Post-Race Reactions

@FormulaHeartbreaks: “Watching Y/N trying to celebrate with Lando and him brushing her off… that hurt to watch 😔 #StayStrongY/N” @WDCdreams: “Lando’s transformation this season is insane – but I’m scared he’s pushing everyone he loves away. Hope he doesn’t regret it #FocusCanCost”

As she lay next to him in the dark, Y/N wondered how much further he was willing to go for this dream – and whether, by the end of it, there would still be room in his life for them.

---

two weeks later – Lando’s Apartment

It had been two weeks of tense silences and brief conversations, filled with polite distance but nothing of the warmth that once defined them. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Tonight, they were supposed to have dinner together after weeks of being apart, but Lando was, as always, late. She glanced at the clock, her stomach churning with frustration.

When the door finally opened, Lando walked in, not even bothering to look up as he set his keys down and shrugged off his jacket.

“You’re late,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady.

He sighed, barely glancing at her. “Yeah, the engineers needed me to stay a bit longer. We’re testing some new upgrades for next week’s race.”

“Of course,” she muttered, shaking her head.

He finally looked up, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that everything – the team, the races, the data – comes before us now,” she replied, her voice beginning to shake. “You’ve been ignoring me, Lando. Fuck, I barely recognize you anymore.”

He rolled his eyes. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. I’m so close to the championship. I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”

“I do understand that,” she snapped. “I’ve always been there for you. But you’re acting like I don’t exist. You barely even look at me anymore. Do you realize how painful that is?”

“Painful?” He scoffed. “It’s not like I’m doing anything to you. I’m just focused on something that matters to me right now.”

“What about me?” she cried, her voice cracking. “What about us?”

He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “Y/N, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Her eyes stung as she fought to hold back tears. “You don’t have time for me,” she whispered. “You have time for everything else – every meeting, every media obligation – but when it comes to me, there’s nothing.”

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low and almost warning, “if you’re so unhappy, maybe you should go. I can’t keep worrying about how you’re feeling when I have this much on the line.”

She blinked, shocked, the tears finally spilling over. “You’re saying I’m a burden? After everything, I’m just… just in the way?”

He threw his hands up, exasperated. “You’re becoming a distraction, Y/N! I can’t focus when you’re constantly upset with me. I need to be 100% in this championship, and right now, I can’t be that with you here, making me feel guilty for every second I spend away from you!”

Y/N’s lip trembled as she tried to hold herself together. “So, what then? We just… end it? Just like that?”

He didn’t answer, just looked away, his face hard and distant. It was the coldest expression she had ever seen on him.

“Fine,” she whispered, nodding to herself. She walked into the bedroom, her hands shaking as she grabbed her suitcase and started packing. Every shirt, every little trinket that she had brought into his space felt like it was mocking her. She heard him pacing outside the room but couldn’t bring herself to stop.

When she emerged, suitcase in hand, he was standing there, arms crossed, face unreadable. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the silence thicker than it had ever been.

“So that’s it then?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Six years, and you can just let it all go for this one shot?”

He didn’t answer, and that hurt more than anything he could have said.

She laughed bitterly, wiping her tears. “I hope this championship is everything you dreamed of, Lando. Because it’s all you’re going to have left.” She pushed past him, tears blurring her vision as she walked out of the apartment, her heart shattering with every step.

Later – Carlos and Rebecca’s House

Y/N knocked, and before she could even drop her hand, the door flew open. Carlos’s concerned face immediately softened when he saw her red-rimmed eyes and trembling figure.

“Oh, Y/N…” he whispered, pulling her into a tight hug. She broke down completely, her sobs muffled against his shoulder. Rebecca joined them in the doorway, gently rubbing Y/N’s back as she let all the heartbreak pour out.

“He… he told me I was a distraction,” she choked out. “After everything, he just… let me go.”

Carlos tightened his hold on her, his jaw clenched. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot if he can’t see what he’s lost.”

Rebecca guided her inside, settling her on the couch with a soft blanket around her shoulders. “You can stay here as long as you need,” she said gently. “We’re here for you, okay?”

Y/N nodded, wiping her tears, but the pain still sat heavy in her chest. She thought back to all the moments she and Lando had shared – all the late nights, the laughter, the promises they’d made. And now, it all felt like nothing more than empty words.

---

Y/N sat curled up on Carlos and Rebecca’s couch, her fingers gripping a warm mug of tea that Rebecca had handed her, though she hadn’t taken a sip. Carlos and Rebecca sat across from her, exchanging worried glances. Rebecca reached over, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?” Rebecca asked softly, her voice laced with concern. “It might help.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes focusing on the tea in her hands. She’d replayed every painful moment a hundred times in her head, but somehow, saying it out loud made it feel even more real.

Taking a shaky breath, she began. “Lando wasn’t always like this. He used to be so… present. Back when he first started in F1, we were everything to each other. He’d come back from a race, even if he’d had a bad day, and he’d look at me like I was the only good thing he had. He’d call me his ‘anchor,’ you know? Like I was the one keeping him grounded.” Her voice cracked, and she blinked back tears.

Carlos looked away, jaw clenched, clearly struggling to hear how much his friend had hurt her.

“He used to make time for me, no matter what,” Y/N continued, her voice trembling as she remembered. “I remember one night, it was after a particularly bad race. He came home exhausted, and I tried to cheer him up. I was rambling on about some silly story, and he just stopped me, took my face in his hands, and said, ‘I don’t deserve you, you know that?’ I laughed it off, but he was so serious. That was Lando… he always made me feel like I was everything to him.” She let out a small, broken laugh. “Now it’s like… he doesn’t even see me anymore.”

Rebecca’s eyes were full of sympathy, and she leaned forward, gently rubbing Y/N’s back. “He still loves you, Y/N. He’s just… lost in all of this championship pressure. It’s consuming him.”

Y/N shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “That’s what I told myself at first. That it was just temporary. I wanted to be understanding, to give him the space he needed. But it kept getting worse. He’d come home, and it was like he was bringing all the weight of his career with him. He’d barely speak to me, and if he did, it was only about the races, the standings… nothing else.”

Carlos shifted forward, his expression filled with anger on her behalf. “But you were always there for him, through everything. He shouldn’t have taken you for granted.”

“That’s what hurts the most,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I tried to support him in every way I could, to be his safe place. But… it’s like he doesn’t need me anymore. Like I’m just in the way of his goal.” She clenched her fists, the pain intensifying as the words came tumbling out. “He told me I was a distraction, Carlos. Like I’m something he needs to get rid of to succeed.”

Carlos’s face hardened, his fists clenching. “That’s not right, Y/N. You were never a distraction. You were his partner.”

Y/N’s gaze dropped to her lap, her voice thick with tears. “I was so proud of him, so in love with him… I still am. But he’s changed. The Lando I fell in love with would never have pushed me away like this. I don’t even know if he’s in there anymore.”

Rebecca pulled Y/N into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly as Y/N finally broke down completely, letting the tears fall. “I just… I don’t know how to stop loving him,” she sobbed. “Even after everything, even after he said those horrible things… it still feels like a part of me is missing without him.”

Rebecca tightened her hold, her own eyes shining with tears. “You gave so much of yourself to him, Y/N. It’s going to hurt. But we’re here for you. You’re not alone.”

Y/N’s shoulders shook as she clung to Rebecca, her sobs echoing in the quiet room. Carlos leaned forward, reaching over to gently hold her hand. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he murmured. “You deserve so much more than this.”

“I just wish…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “I wish he could see how much he’s losing. But he’s so wrapped up in his dream, it’s like I don’t matter at all anymore.”

The three of them sat in silence, Rebecca and Carlos offering her the quiet support she desperately needed. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N let herself truly grieve the man she had once loved with everything in her – the man who had loved her just as fiercely but seemed to have slipped away, lost in the world he was so determined to conquer.

---

The first time people noticed, it was subtle – a strange emptiness around Lando that hadn’t been there before. There were no more quick glances to the paddock where Y/N used to stand, no playful smiles or inside jokes shared across the garage. And, most importantly, no sign of Y/N.

The media chalked it up to championship pressure, but his fans weren’t convinced. They flooded his social media with questions.

Twitter

@LandoLover91: Did anyone else notice Y/N hasn’t been at the last few races?

@RacingQueen: Where’s Y/N? She used to be his good luck charm. Lando seems so off without her…

@TeamNorris: You can see it on his face. Something’s missing.

It wasn’t just the fans. In the paddock, everyone saw it too. Even Max and Charles exchanged a look as they watched Lando pace through the garage, his usually confident demeanor tinged with something… off.

Max nudged Charles. “Have you noticed he hasn’t been himself lately?”

Charles nodded, concern flashing in his eyes. “It’s like he’s a ghost of who he used to be. And… Y/N isn’t here anymore.”

Max sighed, crossing his arms. “He pushed her away. I don’t think he even realized what he was doing until it was too late.”

In the McLaren Garage

Carlos was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, watching Lando carefully. He’d been giving Lando the cold shoulder ever since Y/N had shown up at his house in tears. Lando approached Carlos, a hint of desperation in his eyes.

“Carlos,” Lando started, his voice low. “I need to talk to you.”

Carlos’s gaze hardened, and he crossed his arms, his posture rigid. “Oh? Suddenly, you want to talk? Funny, because Y/N wanted to talk too. She begged you to hear her, and you threw her aside. Now, you’re here?”

Lando flinched, guilt swirling in his stomach. “I… I messed up, Carlos. I know that. I let the pressure get to me, and I said things I didn’t mean.”

Carlos’s face remained unyielding. “Didn’t mean? You called her a distraction. After everything she did to support you, to be there for you, you reduced her to an inconvenience.” His voice was laced with bitterness.

Lando’s shoulders slumped. “I know, okay? I know I ruined everything. I’ve been trying to talk to her, but she won’t answer my calls, won’t respond to my messages. I just… I need her back, Carlos. She’s the one good thing in my life, and I pushed her away.”

Carlos shook his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You only realize her worth now that she’s gone. What did you expect, that she’d wait around forever while you treated her like she didn’t matter?”

Lando’s voice cracked, desperation spilling over. “I don’t know what to do. I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, Carlos, just… tell her that I’m sorry.”

Carlos scoffed. “You think I’m going to deliver your apologies for you? If she wanted to talk to you, she would have. And after the way you treated her, I don’t blame her one bit for staying away.” Carlos’s eyes softened briefly, but it only made his tone more cutting. “You lost someone who loved you with everything she had, and you took it all for granted. Now, you have to live with that.”

Later, in the Drivers’ Lounge

Lando sat alone, staring at his phone, the endless stream of unanswered messages mocking him. The door swung open, and Max and Charles stepped in, glancing at him with a mix of pity and frustration.

Max crossed his arms, looking down at him. “You’re a mess, Lando.”

Lando’s head snapped up, eyes bloodshot. “What do you want me to say? I know I screwed up.”

Charles sat beside him, his voice gentle but firm. “Why didn’t you see it sooner? Y/N was always there for you. We all saw it – the way she looked at you, the way she believed in you. And you threw it all away for what? A title?”

“It’s not just about the title!” Lando said, his voice breaking. “I was under so much pressure… everyone was expecting me to be perfect, to finally beat Max. I thought… I thought if I just focused, if I could just give everything to racing, I’d be enough.”

Max shook his head, his expression a rare mix of sympathy and disappointment. “And now? Are you enough?”

Lando’s throat tightened, and he looked down, unable to answer. The truth hung heavy in the silence, a truth he could no longer deny.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “I keep replaying that night, every horrible word I said to her… and I can’t take any of it back.”

Charles placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes, Lando… there’s no going back. Maybe you just have to live with the choices you made.”

Back in the Garage

As the race weekend continued, the fans picked up on it too. Lando’s pit crew noticed his silence, the empty look in his eyes when he glanced toward the area where Y/N would usually stand, cheering him on. His lap times were erratic, and his usual spark was gone.

Carlos passed by, catching Lando looking lost and out of place in his own space. He leaned over, his voice low. “You’re hurting now, aren’t you? Feeling what she felt when you pushed her away. But you have to understand – you did this to yourself.”

Lando’s voice wavered, a raw edge of desperation seeping through. “Carlos, please. I can’t lose her. I don’t know how to do any of this without her.”

Carlos shook his head, his face impassive. “You made that choice when you told her she was just a distraction. She loved you, Lando. Truly loved you. But you made her feel like she wasn’t worth your time.”

Lando’s face fell, the words striking him harder than any crash he’d ever endured. “I thought I could fix it…”

“Some things can’t be fixed,” Carlos said, voice cold. “Some things… you have to live with. You’re going to realize, probably too late, that your title won’t fill the space she left. You traded something priceless for something you can only hold for a year.” With that, Carlos walked away, leaving Lando alone to the silence of his regrets.

---

Lando sat on the edge of his bed in his darkened hotel room, staring at his phone screen. His fingers hovered over the screen as he typed out another message to Y/N, his heart sinking lower with every word. He’d sent so many texts over the past few weeks, each one unanswered, each one leaving him more desperate than before.

Text Messages to mylove<3

Lando: I know I don’t deserve it, but please, Y/N, just talk to me. Please.

Lando: I’m so sorry. I was wrong, about everything. You were never a distraction. You were the only thing keeping me grounded.

Lando: I can’t believe I said those things to you. Please, I need to make it right.

Lando: Y/N, please come back. I miss you so much. I miss us.

The messages stayed marked as “delivered” but never “read.” Each notification that appeared on his screen felt like a punch to his gut. He opened their old messages, scrolling through the conversations where she used to send him good luck texts, little jokes, and photos that made him laugh on the toughest days. Now, the screen was empty, and it tore at him in ways he hadn’t expected.

He tried one last time, his fingers trembling.

Lando: Please, Y/N. Just one word. Just let me know you’re okay.

He waited, staring at the screen, hoping against hope that this time, she’d respond. But there was nothing. Just the cold silence of his phone screen mocking him, reminding him of the gaping hole he’d created in his life.

Finally, he threw the phone onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. A shuddering breath escaped him as he fought back the tears that had been welling up since she’d left. The weight of his regret was crushing, pressing down on his chest until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He broke down, the sobs wracking his body as he thought about all the times he’d taken her presence for granted, all the ways she’d been his rock, his source of strength. And now, in his pursuit of a title, he’d thrown it all away.

“Why did I do this?” he whispered to the empty room, his voice barely audible through the tears. “Why was I so stupid?”

He thought back to the last time he’d seen her, the pain in her eyes, the betrayal. She had been there through every single moment of his career, from the early struggles to his first win. And in the blink of an eye, he’d reduced her to something he could discard.

The sobs only grew louder, his shoulders shaking as the guilt crushed him. He could barely breathe, the weight of it all suffocating him. He’d lost the one person who truly loved him, who’d been there through everything – and now, he’d do anything to turn back time, to tell her how much she meant to him, to take back every cruel word.

But it was too late. All he had now was the silence, the cold realization of what he’d lost forever.

With trembling hands, he picked up his phone once more, typing out another desperate message, his vision blurred from the tears.

Text Message to mylove<3

Lando: I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ll wait forever if I have to. I just… I just want you back.

But even as he hit send, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. And that knowledge only made the pain cut deeper, leaving him sobbing in the dark, broken and alone.

----

The championship had come down to the final race, and it slipped through Lando’s fingers. Second place. It was supposed to be the peak of his career, the culmination of years of hard work and sacrifice. But as he stood on the podium, looking out over the cheering crowd, all he felt was emptiness.

He’d traded everything for a shot at the title. And now, even with the world’s eyes on him, he felt alone.

The post-race interview was supposed to be about the championship battle. The questions started there, but it quickly turned into something else, something Lando couldn’t hold back any longer.

He took a deep breath, voice wavering as he spoke into the microphone. “I know today was supposed to be a celebration, and it should be. But I need to be honest… I made a huge mistake this season, one that I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

The room went silent, the reporters leaning forward, sensing the weight of his words.

“I… I let the pressure of this championship get to me. I thought that if I could just focus, if I could give everything to racing, I’d find happiness. But in that process, I lost the most important thing in my life.” His voice broke, his hand tightening around the mic as he struggled to continue. “I pushed away the person who’s been there for me since the beginning. Through all the ups and downs, the wins and losses… she was always there, believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

Lando’s gaze drifted to the floor, shame filling his expression. “And I told her she was a distraction. I let her believe she wasn’t enough because I was too blinded by this… this dream. I’m an idiot for thinking a title could ever replace someone like her. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you more than anyone ever should, and if I could take it all back, I would. I’d give up every race, every trophy, every… every chance at this championship if it meant having you back. You were never a distraction. You were the only thing that kept me grounded, that kept me… sane.”

His eyes lifted to the camera, his voice soft but clear. “If… if she’s watching this, if she can hear me… I just want her to know that I’m sorry. More than anything, I want her to forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it, but I love her. And I would give up everything, every podium, every title… just to have her back. I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it. And now… now I’d do anything, anything to make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve it, but if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me… I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like that again.”

The room was quiet, the air thick with the weight of his confession. Lando’s face was streaked with the tears he’d tried to keep at bay, his vulnerability laid bare for the world to see.

Days Later, Monaco

Back in Monaco, Lando felt like a shell of himself. He moved through his days on autopilot, haunted by the memories of what he’d lost. The house felt empty without her presence, her laughter, her comforting words. He spent hours lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying that interview in his head, hoping that maybe, somehow, she’d heard his words.

Then, one quiet evening, there was a knock at the door. It was tentative, hesitant, as if the person on the other side was unsure.

Lando’s heart raced as he walked to the door, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest. He opened it slowly, and there she was – Y/N, standing on his doorstep, tears in her eyes. Her face was etched with a mixture of pain and longing, the same emotions he’d been carrying since the day she left.

There she stood, Y/N, with tear-streaked cheeks and an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, the softness in her eyes bringing fresh pain and, maybe, a glimmer of hope.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper, his heart pounding so hard he could barely breathe.

She blinked up at him, trying to hold back more tears. “I saw your interview, Lando,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly.

He swallowed, nodding, unsure of what to say. “I… I meant every word. I know it doesn’t change what I did, but—”

“I know,” she interrupted gently, stepping closer. “I know you did. And I believe you.”

Lando’s breath hitched, the weight of her words settling over him like a warm blanket, thawing the cold ache that had plagued him for weeks. “Does that… does that mean…”

She nodded, a small, sad smile pulling at her lips. “I forgive you, Lando.”

Unable to hold back anymore, he closed the distance between them, arms wrapping around her, holding her close like she might disappear if he let go. She melted into his embrace, her own arms wrapping around him tightly, her face buried in his chest.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he murmured into her hair, his voice thick. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was so stupid. I should’ve known—”

“Shh,” she whispered, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “We both said things we didn’t mean. I just… I missed you so much.”

He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, too. I’d give up everything if it meant I’d never hurt you again. I don’t care about the championship, Y/N. None of it matters without you.”

Her hand came up to rest on his cheek, and she gave him a watery smile. “I don’t want you to give up anything, Lando. I just… I want to be part of your life, not something you feel you need to push away.”

“You are my life,” he said fervently, pressing his forehead against hers. “And I’ll never, ever forget that again.”

She laughed softly, though it was more of a hiccup, as more tears slipped down her cheeks. “Promise?”

He nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I swear. I’m not letting go this time, no matter what. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, grounding herself in his warmth. “Because I don’t think I could ever walk away again.”

Without another word, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss, the kind that seemed to say all the things he’d failed to put into words. She kissed him back, pouring every ounce of her love and forgiveness into it, their arms tightening around each other as if trying to make up for every moment they’d lost.

When they finally pulled back, both of them breathless, she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“You know,” she said softly, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. “I kind of enjoyed seeing you grovel on national television.”

He chuckled, his laugh a little choked with emotion. “Well, if that’s what it takes to make you stay, I’ll do it every day if I have to.”

She shook her head, a laugh escaping her. “I don’t think you’ll need to. Just… remember to let me in, okay? We’re a team, you and me.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “A team. Forever.”

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Lando felt for the first time in weeks that everything might actually be okay again.

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the-prophesied-disco-gay · 1 day ago

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Some things are not easy to say but it's important they are said. When this post says "fuck child abusers" it means me. That includes me. I spanked my kids when they were young. That's a real thing that I am guilty of and pretending otherwise might feel better for me but it doesn't help anyone.

I'm hoping that talking about it will.

I was raised in a very conservative household. My friends and partners have described my upbringing as "being raised in a non-religious cult." My Dine heritage was hidden from me. My Jewish heritage was hidden from me, and then later I was told we are "white Jews" (which is a perfectly acceptable thing to be! But I am...not..one). I was raised steeped in white supremacy and racism and homophobia (my dad referred to both Black people and LGB people as "those people" and expected it to be clear from context which he meant)(shockingly, there was virtually zero transphobia in my house growing up. The neighbor's eldest transitioned when I was a kid and my parents liked and respected her parents so they decided that must be alright. That tiny twist of fate saved me much).

Now I don't list off these things to excuse child abuse. I do so to show just how interconnected these things are. Conservative beliefs, whether they are religious or just social/cultural, are inherently violent. I was 18 when I had my first child, my spouse was 20. Both of us had been spanked growing up, and so had all our friends. At that point in our lives it was unthinkable that there was another proper way to raise children. All the examples we had been shown of children that lacked "discipline" were either living violent, out of control, addiction ridden lives (you are not immune to propaganda), or insufferable brats who called their parents by their first names ("There once was a boy named Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it").

Here's the thing tho. It didn't feel good.

Sure it did in all the ways that have perpetuated such actions for millenia. The chemical changes that happen in the brain, the feeling of regained control and reasserted authority, the relief that the world is right on it's axis and everything is back in its box. Corporal punishment doesn't teach a child anything useful or worthwhile, only fear and uncertainty and lack of trust. That's not truly why people do it. It provides a sense of relief for the adult. An outlet for the emotion they haven't learned to manage.

But it didn't make us feel like good parents. It didn't make us feel like we were doing right by our kids. And the more we moved in the world away from our own parents, the more we met and spoke with different kinds of people, the more we learned. The very first time I found a science article about the effects of spanking, I felt both relieved and vindicated. I showed it to my partner and we never spanked our kids again.

It wasn't difficult. We never wanted to be doing it in the first place. We had legitimately believed we would be failing our children if we chose otherwise. We were wrong.

Sometimes you're going to be wrong. On big things. On important things.

It is never too late. Once you know better, do better. It's not too late to stop. To apologize. To begin doing better. My children were still young when we learned better, and I am grateful for that. But even if your children are grown, it's not too late to apologize and admit you were wrong. You will be shocked what it can heal.

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pocket-solas · 3 days ago

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The ending was fine, but what really bothered me what the fact that Lavellan is, once again, cast aside in second position. Solas calls her "vhenan", writes her letters, says his feelings for her will never change etc... and continues destroying her world because he's sad over another woman. At the end, it's Mythal who changes his mind, not Lavellan.

And once again, it's Lavellan who takes agency, who shows interest, by insisting to go with him, by starting the kiss, by touching his back while he simply stands there, hands crossed without even looking at her. I don't know, I'm glad they're finally together, but it really felt like Lavellan is the one who's pining over this relationship, not Solas.

Mythal is essentially Solas' creator. She "pulled him from the Fade" and gave him a purpose, even if it was one that twisted his nature. He was bound to her service. I don't believe at all they were romantically involved, despite speculation in and out of the Veilguard game. Mythal herself consistently treats him as an "old friend" and even as a child, despite their ages being the same.

Their affection for each other runs deep. And is an ancient bond. Lavellan doesn't have that rapport with him, no matter how much they love each other.

At the end of Trespasser Solas refuses to allow Lavellan to follow, not wanting her to see what he becomes. And I think we the player saw what he became, he tried to become more the Dread Wolf than Solas.

You cannot get the happy ending without the Inquisitor, so I would say they are in fact very important. When Solas says "thank you" during that final scene he is addressing directly the Inquisitor. (Unless Lavellan kisses him then he says "Thank you, Rook")

Solas loves Lavellan. She is his heart. For the past decade or more he has denied his heart and tried to harden it against those who care for him. He "killed" Mythal when even she tried to dissuade him from his course.

It took Rook, Mythal AND the Inquisitor together to convince him to stop.

As for the animations of the final scene. I couldn't be more pleased. They kissed. Despite Solas just having an emotional breakdown, demon blood in his mouth, and probably a concussion. Yes, Lavellan was the one to reach out but I wasn't expecting any different.

He doesn't want to subject her to the "terrible" place he is going to atone for what he has done. She was the one who stepped forward and this time insisted she go with him. And he gave her zero argument, just one warning it won't be easy for them

I wish he had reached for her hand there at the end. But as she touched his shoulder it was his magic that enveloped her as well, making sure to take her with him to where his destination lies.

Also adding onto this because the way he looks at Lavellan in this game is more meaningful to me than any touch they could've animated. I mean cmon...look at this and tell me he isn't deeply in love with her.

I mean PLEASE

And in the kiss animation you can see his mouth moving as he kisses her back eeeeeeeeee okay...I'm done.

#i just watched it again to take screenshots and cried #solavellan spoilers #veilguard spoilers #mythal and solas #solas #solavellan #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #fenharel #solas x lavellan #solas x inquisitor #solas x female lavellan #solas romance #solasmance #otp

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warblogs17282 · 3 days ago

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Blitz and self-hatred, plus his self-forgiveness journey.

Aka, watch me try to make sense of the massive lore drops in ghostfuckers. (Long post alert, my first meta post after ghostfuckers dropped)

Section 1: The roots of Blitz's self-hatred.

The circus fire. We know what Blitz's actions were that day, he saw Fizzarolli, and tried to call for help, but then he realized that Tilla was also caught up in the fire, and instantly rushed over to attempt to save her the moment Blitz realized that fact.

We know that Fizzarolli getting severely hurt in that fire affected Blitz very deeply, considering that it was one of the memories in that slideshow.

If you look at this frame by frame, you can see some sort of face in the fire when Blitz is rushing to save Tilla from the fire. The face in that fire looks like a mix of an angry face and a screaming face at the same time. Signaling that Tilla has been consumed by the flames. That she's dead.

There's an interesting detail within the hallucination sequence as well.

"This is your life." The fact that the fire in this sequence starts right at Blitz's hand is really telling. It tells us that Blitz still blames himself for accidentally causing the fire. Blitz blames himself for the fire that severely hurt Fizzarolli, and the fire that killed Tilla. Blitz feels like he hurt Fizzarolli and killed Tilla, his own mother.

Look at Blitz's hand during this memory, you can very clearly see that it's quite badly burned, including some that haven't even fully scarred properly yet, placing this memory very shortly after the fire happened. During this scene, Cash hits Blitz, and it's very clearly a memory that still deeply affects Blitz, a memory that most likely reinforced Blitz's own self hatred, because he's blaming himself for Tilla's death and Fizzarolli's injuries at this point, and his dad is just rubbing that in a lot by getting extremely pissed off with Blitz and hitting him because of the circus fire.

Plus, just look at Blitz's reaction to this memory, look at Blitz flinch, look at Blitz starting to struggle against the chains the moment this memory comes up. Blitz's reaction to this just proves how deeply it affects him to this day, and also proves that Cash hitting Blitz added to Blitz's self-hatred over the circus fire. Also, just how many times did Cash physically abuse Blitz like this over the course of his life so far?

Finally, we have the memory of Cash keeping Blitz from seeing Fizzarolli at the hospital. "But they told me you didn't want to see me.", Cash lied to Blitz and most likely the hospital staff as well considering the 'they' used, saying that Fizzarolli didn't want to see Blitz again, having strong implications to Blitz that Fizzarolli hated him. He also lied to Fizzarolli and said that Blitz never even visited him in the hospital. Further adding to Blitz's self hatred over the circus fire.

Section 2: Everything that has reinforced Blitz's self hatred, and is important on Blitz's self-forgiveness journey.

Let's start with Loona, we see her two times during the memories sequence.

The first having this exchange of dialogue.

Blitzo: Because, I adopted you! And that should mean something!

Loona: Oh, what does it matter?! You're not my real dad! I was almost eighteen!

Blitzo: It still counts!

Loona: Well, it shouldn't! I didn't need you then, asshole! I don't, now!

Notice the word 'need.', it's something that Blitz has internalized by now, Blitz thinks that if the people in his life don't 'need' him, they'll just leave him. Another thing that this shows is that Blitz is worried about if Loona hates him.

And it's very clear that Blitz is still effected by this exchange in s1 e3, even quite a while later. In s2 e2, we see Loona kick Blitz right in the balls, and just look at Loona's face in this scene, what Blitz sees here is his fear that Loona hates him, which is why it's in the memory sequence, and there's also these pieces of dialogue to consider.

Loona: If I'm so terrible, how about you just grow a pair and replace me?

Blitzo: Okay, well, maybe I- Maybe I might.

Blitzo: Oh, Loona, my sweet baby girl! I'm so sorry, I'll never replace you no matter what you--

Blitz is still concerned that Loona hasn't forgiven him/hates him for saying that he might replace her, hence why he instantly says he'll never replace her the moment Blitz sees her again, and that face and kick in the balls definitely fed into Blitz's fear that Loona hates Blitz.

And this fear that Blitz has about people who he cares about hating him seems to be something that applies to a lot of different people.

We see this fear in Fizzarolli, because this is one of the memories that comes up in that sequence. The malice-filled stare Fizzarolli gave Blitz during Ozzie's, and we all know Cash was the reason why Fizzarolli hated Blitz for so long, because he lied to Fizzarolli and said he started the fire on purpose, and said that he never visited him once. Alongside other things like Cash making Fizzarolli the golden child. So even all those years later, Cash is still contributing to Blitz's fear of the people he cares about hating him.

Don't be mistaken as well, just because they made up in s2 e6 doesn't make this fear of Blitz's go away, doesn't make the pain of the malice-filled stare go away, which this memory being brought up proves.

And, as I've said before, Blitz still blames himself for accidentally causing the fire that severely hurt him, also adding to the fear and self-hatred.

Barbie Wire, we can see this fear play out with her as well.

"I never wanna see you ever!"

Looking at both Blitz's face at the time and the fact that this scene made it into the memories sequence, it just shows us that Blitz has this fear for Barbie Wire as well, just like how he had it for Fizzarolli. The fact that Barbie Wire doesn't even want to see Blitz again just confirms that fear he has, that Barbie Wire hates him, and the memory of it also confirms just how deeply her saying that effected Blitz.

"Are you worried I may have enough of it one day as well?"

Truth Seekers, the fact that this is Blitz's subconscious telling him this is proof of the fact he has this fear that Moxxie will get tired of Blitz's behavior, that Moxxie will hate him and just, leave.

And the sequence with all the dead Millies and her appearance in the memories sequence also confirms that Blitz has this fear when it comes to Millie as well. Plus, the sequence with the dead Millies also tells us quite a few things, but I think the main ones are the insecurities Blitz has that he 'keeps fucking people's lives up' and 'leaving them worse and more broken than he found them', which both add to the fear that the people in Blitz's life who he cares for hates him.

The last person, Stolas.

There's three memories in ghostfuckers of him I'd like to bring up here.

The first being the All 2 U song memory, just look at how angry Stolas looks to Blitz in this specific memory, while singing lines like "'Cause I don't think it meant a thing at all!"

This one, Stolas was literally just crying a moment ago with all the makeup streaming down his face, but Blitz doesn't seem to remember that fact, instead, he's more focused on what Stolas said, more specifically, "You! Why are you here? I don't want you here, go home, please! Let me not feel so sad!"

And the final one, Stolas and the BTB guy. It's not jealousy, it's god damn heartbreak, especially considering the 'I mean you're a fucking prince. How could you ever actually care for an imp... Me? How could anybody?' Which shows us that Blitz thinks Stolas deserves a better partner, and then a guy literally with a shirt named 'Better than Blitzo' came in, with them dancing and enjoying each other, something that Blitz most likely wished he could do.

Plus, it had been around 24 hours since Stolas' confession to Blitz, and to Blitz, Stolas is already with someone else, someone 'better' than him. With the moment of the BTB guy kissing Stolas being all the confirmation Blitz needed, that he'll never be enough for Stolas, that Stolas has found someone better than him. That he's unlovable.

With all these three memories just massively contributing to Blitz's fear that Stolas hates him, and his self-hatred in general.

(Obviously Stolas doesn't hate Blitz, and that the BTB dude is a one night stand at most, but I'm speaking like how Blitz sees things rn)

Something else that's also relevant is this memory of Verosika, and the reason why this is specifically in the reel is because this was the moment that Verosika said "A reckless, heartbreaking freak!", all while Stolas was watching, which is something Blitz very clearly noted in his memories of the event, showing how much this effected him as well.

And to show that even more, this is the exact point that gets Blitz's tears flowing.

Another thing I want to quickly mention is that Blitz struggles to understand concepts and such of love, outside of a transactional context. Like, correct me if I'm overthinking this, but the 'unconditional support' card is yet another example of Blitz doing this kind of stuff. Everytime they give Blitz 'unconditional support', Blitz punches a hole in the card, with the one at the end being that Blitz has to leave M&M alone for one date, like, my babygirl, that isn't unconditional.

I also suspect that this has roots with Cash as well, considering that Cash was 100% the type of person to only see their value as 'how much money they can make him', and that the less they make for him, the less that Cash will 'love' them, something that is extremely clear in the difference that Cash treated Blitz and Fizzarolli on multiple occurrences. Like, here for example. Plus, there's also the fact that Blitz was bought by Paimon to be friends with Stolas as a kid.

And well, I think we all know what the biggest example of this kind of relationship has been throughout the show, it being something that only ended a few episodes ago.

Of course, I have to mention "I believe your subconscious is trying to tell you that you simply cannot fathom proper intimacy, but… also crave it as well.", which is something that is extremely intertwined with this subject, and the best example of this is probably s2 e8.

Something else in the memories sequence that this line from truth seekers also heavily applies to are these memories.

It shows us very clearly that Blitz is rather envious of the relationship that Moxxie and Millie have, because Blitz craves proper intimacy, so what Blitz sees is something he wants, but something he feels like he can't obtain.

Finally, the last subject I'd like to talk about is the fact that Blitz, hasn't really been able to see much of the good things he's done for the people he cares about or that he straight up doesn't know, by just being himself.

Blitz saved Moxxie from a life with Crimson and also busted him out of prison, Blitz gave Millie a life, a husband, and a purpose, Blitz gave Loona a home and a loving father, right before she was about to get kicked out the system, and Blitz gave Stolas the courage to stand up to his abuser, to allow him to choose for himself and get that divorce.

But, the sad part is that Blitz doesn't really see much of that.

Section 3: The progress Blitz has made on self-forgiveness journey so far.

S2 E6, the fact that Blitz and Fizzarolli was able to make up after so long removed a huge roadblock in the way of Blitz's self-forgiveness journey. The fact that Fizzarolli no longer hates Blitz. While there are still memories about Fizzarolli that still haunt Blitz, as I've shown in this post, this is still a huge step forward for Blitz being able to repair his relationships.

The first real heart-to-heart Blitz and Millie conversation, a lot gets brought up here, just exactly how Blitz has improved Millie's life for the better, confirmation to Blitz that Millie never hated Blitz and the fact that they're best friends. Of course, there's also Millie's apology to Blitz, with this conversation being something that Blitz desperately needed to hear, and I really hope everyone else eventually tells Blitz just how much he's changed their lives for the better.

And the second conversation between the two, the first thing that Blitz mentions is Millie's best friend comment, and that is huge for Blitz, because it signals the start of Blitz learning that people in his life can care for Blitz unconditionally. That Blitz can just have friends in his life, as the line "I- I've never had a real friend that I didn't want to fuck."

(hit the image limit, so time for timestamps!) Timestamp 24:31

(Timestamp, 24:45) "The bird got to you that bad, huh?", it just means so much to me that Blitz has finally admitted the fact that Blitz has feelings for Stolas, because it shows that Blitz is slowly, but surely starting to open up, and this is gonna be a huge thing for Blitz's relationships, including when Stolitz finally gets back together.

#helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #tw: abuse #blitzo #helluva boss stolas #stolitz #verosika mayday #helluva fizzarolli #moxxie helluva boss #cash buckzo #barbie wire #octavia goetia #loona helluva boss #helluva boss analysis #helluva boss meta

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lesbianwyllravengard · 20 hours ago

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I actually think it makes perfect sense that there is no dialogue option to have Wyll choose for himself whether to sacrifice his father or sign a pact eternal with Mizora. I'm not saying we shouldn't have the option, and I'm definitely not saying Larian gets a pass for it, because they suck and should give us more Wyll content everywhere no matter what. But. The lack of an option opens up a bountiful interpretation of Wyll's character that makes me want to munch on his earlobe.

Because here is the thing. If you were to leave the choice up to Wyll, he would choose to sacrifice himself to save his father every time. No matter what you've faced, no matter what your relationship level is with Wyll, no matter if you expressed anger for his father's mistakes or not, Wyll would always choose to sell his soul eternally to save the life of his father. This is not just because Wyll is a self-sacrificing maniac (affectionate), which we all already know. This is also because in Wyll's mind, his father's life holds the worth of the lives of every single Baldurian, because Ulder Ravengard is not just Wyll's father, he is THE Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate, and therefore both directly and indirectly responsible for the lives of the people. In Wyll's mind, his father's life is equivalent in value to that of the city itself, and so the trade for Wyll's singular soul in return for the safety of Baldur's Gate is the pact he already signed in the first place, and as he says, it is the decision he would make every time. If we were given the option to say "Do what you wish, Wyll, sign the pact or not" he would choose to sign the new pact every time without fail. Typically the point of the "it's your choice" dialogues is to offer the characters an actual choice based on things they've experienced (for example, when giving Shadowheart the choice to save or kill her parents, her choice changes depending on how much she remembers of her past). But for Wyll, the lack thereof says what we know: he would choose to save his father even at the eternal cost of his own soul.

But! Here's the most important part to me: Wyll's number one wish is to be free. Not to be adored. Not to be forgiven. Not to be powerful. But to be free of Mizora and her pact.

Wyll would not choose to free himself over saving his father, and so he needs us to choose that for him. It doesn't take a persuasion roll because it's what he desperately wants. But it does take us having to say "Wyll, break your pact" for him to make that choice. Both by sharing the responsibility of said choice with the person who is telling him to break his pact, but also by having someone he looks to for direction tell him 'I see how badly you need to be free and I want you to take this chance, I want you to do something for yourself for once'. So much of who Wyll is, is cleverly hidden behind the 'Blade of Frontiers' persona that he presents. He needs someone else to see him behind all of that, and demand that he takes what he wants above all else, knowing what his decision would be otherwise.

and again, this is not me saying the option to let him choose shouldn't be there, this is just my interpretation of what it means for Wyll that the option is not there. Do I think larian thought of this aspect of Wyll as thoroughly as I have and made this decision purposefully with this same level of consideration to Wyll's character? not at all. larian has shown they will do anything BUT show consideration for Wyll, and his content. If anything I want this post to fuel angsty fanfiction at the least, and at the most make someone else think a little more thoroughly about Wyll as a character when larian so utterly fails to do so.

#Wyll Ravengard #bg3 analysis #bg3 Wyll #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #do you guys understand how obsessed with him I am on a level never before seen #My beautiful wife

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somewhereincairparavel · 1 day ago

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Annabeth Chase and Jason Grace - two sides of the same coin, an analysis post.

after a long wait, I've finally posted my analysis on jason/annabeth being similar, and mirroring eachother as rivals/potential sibling figures more than percy/jason's 'bro rivalry', based on this post of mine which has crossed over a THOUSAND notes in the last week alone, and I've been getting so many reblogs and comments asking me to expand on my tags in that post and do a full analysis. so here it is. I've been procrastinating this for quite a while now for some reason but I'm glad I'm over my writer's block and I got to articulate my post well enough.

annabeth and jason have had very minor interactions throughout hoo, but the parallels and similarities in their character is jarringly noticeable, which is why I hoped for a jason/annabeth rivalry and not a percy/jason rivalry. they've both been raised at their respective camps since they were literal kids, they were well versed in their respective fields of knowledge, and were well respected/intimidated in their camps.

let's start off with the lost hero

when jason first meets annabeth, he says that her eyes were really intimidating and fierce, so right off the bat, we have jason who's pretty put off by annabeth because she very obviously looked angry, especially since she was frustrated about jason's arrival instead of percy, and looked like she could kill jason to get percy back.

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

this parallels to a lot when hazel kept going on about how difficult it was to warm up to jason because his eyes were always calculating and cold, and he gave off an untrustworthy vibe, that he'd sacrifice anyone for the sake of the mission.

both annabeth and jason have a certain similar ‘look’ in their eyes, which have nothing to do with the color. they both have the tendency to make people nervous simply with their eyes, because they always look like they're thinking of new things every few seconds. Ironically, jason first perceived annabeth, the way everyone else perceived him. scary and intimidating with an icy glare and hardened eyes.

They were both said to be ‘studying’ each other in distrust many times throughout. A part of why they didn't trust each other, was, in my opinion, because they embodied their least favorite shared personality trait of each other, secretiveness and guardedness. which is why annabeth got on so well with percy, and jason with leo/piper.

they didn't admire the closed off-ish vibe that they gave eachother. they both needed people who were open and carefree.annabeth said that jason looked like he knew too much information, but chose to keep it all a secret, very similar to her own guardedness from time to time, keeping it a secret and wanting to deal with it silently.

we also know that annabeth and jason are extremely knowledgeable in greek/roman mythology, they both love debates and were quite passionate about history. they were both assigned architecture projects by the gods themselves as a mark of honor and favour.

moving on to the next most important point, they reminded eachother of the people they missed, causing them to feel resentful.

jason, barely met his sister after they reunited. he was bitter when thalia said he had to go look for percy to help out annabeth with the search. he was aware that thalia and annabeth were childhood friends, getting closer to eachother than jason and thalia ever did. she found a home in luke and annabeth, not even a few months after baby jason was thought to be ‘dead’, that knowledge would've weighed a lot on jason. annabeth became the sibling to thalia grace that jason could never be.

while annabeth? the only thing annabeth thought of, after jason had a face off with his mother's remnant in boo, was the fact that jason, who looks eerily similar to luke, could've experienced the exact same fate as him. luke was jason if he had more wrath and held grudges, jason was luke if he had less anger and resentment. annabeth could connect the dots so easily, and that was truly the moment where she gained immense respect for him.

and, when jason told annabeth that his sister was thalia? she had a very odd sort of expression on her face.

annabeth also quotes that looking at jason made her feel bitter, because he reminded her of heras exchange, and the fact that she lost percy for months. whenever she looked at jason, she would only see her two childhood friends, a found family that was broken, and a love that was challenged.

whenever jason looked at annabeth, he would be reminded that thalia had a closer contact to her than she did jason, and had to accept that he would never know thalia as much as annabeth does.

annabeth and jason also appear very confident and sure of themselves, but have second thoughts all the time. they had to put on a fake facade, to live up to their expectations and lineage.

they were both also sort of people pleasers, annabeth couldn't really say no to anyone who asked her for help with things, like carrying the sky for luke especially, because not only where they giving her a chance to execute her knowledge and skill, the thought of helping someone made her genuinely happy. jason also loved seeing people happy, always wanting to say the right thing to satisfy someone, even if it meant he had to sacrifice his own struggles to help them.

fatal flaws:

annabeth’s fatal flaw, is hubris. when you are confident and sure that you can do something, and have a sense of excessive self pride.

and jason's fatal flaw is the temptation to deliberate. hesitation and second guessing, to put it in simpler words.both fatal flaws are so different, yet so similar, and they have both flaws, just in a different viewpoint.

as a child of athena, annabeth appears super confident and even conceding at times because of her wisdom, but at the same time, annabeth had to make sure she was one step ahead of everyone. she had to rethink everything and had to have a plan in her mind all the time, fearing that things wouldn't go smoothly.

she had to hesitate and second guess herself alot, despite her knowledge, like she did when she knew she had to look for the mark of athena. piper and percy had to boost up her confidence with affirmations, to let her know she's on the right path and to just follow her gut. annabeth feels obligated to have a temptation to deliberate, because, as a child of athena, she has to be all knowing and wise, and most definitely cannot fail her mother.

and jason? despite having a very low sense of self esteem and hesitation, he was so used to leading the people who were considered slightly inferior to him in camp jupiter, and basically getting treated like a celebrity for 12 years of his life in camp jupiter, that often, he thought what he did was right, he had his own perception of what a hero should be, and I quote

[“No, no,” Jason said. “I made my choice. You’re not to blame. You don’t owe me anything except to remember what I said. Remember what’s important.” “You’re important,” I said. “Your life!”Jason tilted his head. “I mean… sure. But if a hero isn’t ready to lose everything for a greater cause, is that person really a hero?”He weighted the word person subtly, as if to stress it could mean a human, a faun, a dryad, a griffin, a pandos… even a god”- Tower of Nero]

which was normal, since he had everyone basically following his lead without question as a kid. he's expanded on this in his conversation with piper in mark of athena, where he said he felt weird to suddenly be around people who were either equal/or superior to him in power, and not being in the ‘lead’ particularly.

jason had hubris, but certainly not in a way that you would call it an ego or excessive pride. he was hardwired and brainwashed into having his own perception of what is right and what is wrong, that he thought he was always making good enough decisions, at least from a roman child soldier’s standpoint. [Like when he was okay with not saving nico because it might sabotage their mission, he genuinely didn't think what he said was insensitive until hazel called him out, because he was brought up that way. he thought he was doing the right thing, by prioritising the mission and the duty, first. Like the dutiful roman he was made to be].

both annabeth and jason, have hubris and a temptation to deliberate.

annabeth and jason, also had an extremely difficult time breaking free from the thoughts that their godly parents were always right. It took on alot of disappointments for both of them to stand up to their parents (and not just godly ones, mind you)

they've both had disappointing absent mortal and godly parents with a hostile stepmother involved and monitored with each and every one of their moves. annabeth has had to deal with her stepmother playing the ‘bad cop’ with her father not even coming to her defence, just the way hera came butting into jason's life and giving him terrible memories, taking him away from thalia, with zeus not even caring.

speaking of which, they are both the only demigods who have harboured the most amount of resentment for hera. just the sight of hera pisses them both off, as it hera, stripped off so much time away from annabeth and percy, and memories from jason, which he never permanently got back.

I hope I've drawn enough parallels with their characters, as a lot of you have been looking forward to this post for a while, hopefully this analysis hasnt been underwhelming for you all to read!

@thevoidcaller @karmaajr @onestorytorulethemall @newlyfoundwren @thesummerstorms

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

Text

A Touch of Sweetness 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“That was awesome. We have so many berries,” you dust the dirt off your capris as you stand. “What are you going to make with yours?”

Loki squints up at the sky and doesn’t answer. You frown. He’s not paying attention.

“Brother,” Thor calls him back to earth, “the little one asked a question.”

“You may keep them all,” he says as he puts his chin down. “I have no need of berries.”

“But... you helped pick them all. You should get some. Oo, have you ever tried berries and a cream? Or you could make a smoothie--”

“I said keep them,” he slithers and pushes his jacket back to slide his hands into his pockets. “Are we done then?”

“You’ve nowhere important to be,” Thor insists. “I would know.”

You sway awkwardly. You don’t want to be a nuisance. Not like you always are.

“You know, I had lots of fun. With all of you, but I think I should just go home now,” you suggest. “Thanks for coming.” You smile at Queenie, “it was nice to meet you.” You turn and look at Loki, “and you.”

He peers down his nose at you as his lips thin. “It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.”

You look back at the others, “what about the berries?” Queenie asks, “you could come over and show me how to make something.” She pauses and looks at Thor. He grins.

“Of course she can,” he assures. “You could come now, even.”

“I appreciate that but I gotta get going.”

“We will message and arrange the details then,” Thor declares. “Drive safe.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Queenie murmurs grimly.

“I can’t wait,” you say. “Thank you for all your help, Loki.”

His cheek ticks and he pushes his shoulders up, “it was nothing. Only got my suit dirty.”

You giggle. He’s funny. Well, now he knows not to wear something so nice to a berry farm.

“Alrighty, I’ll be going then. I wanna get some pictures of the bunnies before I go,” you chime. “Buh bye!”

You turn and skip off. You’re wired with excitement. It might not have been a shining success but you made one friends at least. Queenie is nice and it seems like she needs a friend too.

You stop by the bunny stall and snap some photos before you head off. You’ve spent enough money and time there. Besides, you don’t like driving in the dark and it’s a lot later than you thought.

When you get home, your sister is there with Estelle. You head to kitchen to put your berries in the fridge. As you make space, Jada enters with her minion at her side.

“Did you have fun playing in the dirt like a child?” She taunts.

“Sure did,” you say as you slide the basket onto the shelf.

“Sure looks like you did,” Estelle scoffs.

You look down at your outfit. You have berry just on one knee and some soil on the other. Oh well, they aren’t your favourite pants.

“You could’ve come. It was really cool. They had bunnies and a horse cart.” You say.

“Did he stand you up?” Jada asks, ignoring your suggestion.

“Stand me up? Who?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. Thor. You said that’s what he asked you outside the cafe. So what happened? Did he realise you’re a loser?”

“I told you, he said he wanted me to meet his girlfriend. She’s nice,” you shrug.

“Nice? She’s probably too good for you. I mean, she’s dating him.” She snickers. “Do you even know who Thor Odinson is? What he does?”

“I would know. You gush about him all the time,” you stick your tongue out.

“That’s not true,” she snaps.

Estelle laughs, “you kinda of do... along with the rest of them.”

“He’s a criminal,” Jada says.

You just stare at her. “So why’d you let me go? I'm your sister?”

“Oh, don’t do that,” she puffs. “You always are so pathetic. And stupid. You’re an adult, you can take care of yourself.”

“Come on, Jada, don’t be bitter. You’re the one who’s obsessed with the outfit.” Estelle nudges her.

“You’re taking her side?” Jada turns on her.

“No, hell no. But you’re being dramatic. I bet he thought it was funny. She’s so dumb, it’s like having a clown at the party. Something to laugh at,” Estelle jeers.

“Exactly,” Jada agrees and laugh tritely, “she is a clown.”

You frown but don’t argue. She’ll just keep calling you names. You wait for her to go before you retreat to your room. The triumph of your day is quickly blotted out by the spiteful chittering you can hear in the front room.

You wash up and get changed for bed. Maybe Queenie won’t message. Maybe it was all just a game to Thor. After all, what are you compared to him and his pretty, sophisticated girlfriend? And his brother seemed entirely unimpressed by it all.

You fall asleep in a roil of doubt. You awake, little by little, and linger in bed as you search for the will to get up. You yawn and rub your eyes. You stand up and step into your slippers that look like cows.

You go out to the kitchen and groggily flip on the electric kettle. As you wait for the water to boil, you go to the fridge and open it mindlessly. It’s more of a habit than an actual mission for anything. You skim the shelves and notice the empty space where your basket of berries should be.

You let the door shut and look around the kitchen. The basket is empty on the counter. It must have been Jada. It’s like when you got that bottle of Coach perfume with your first pay check and she smash it against the school wall.

What a waste.

You hang your head and go back to your room. You’re hurt but not surprised. She’s been doing stuff like this for so long, you’re almost numb to it.

You close your door slowly as you spot the dark stains across the front of your dresser. You flip the lights on and see the berry-coloured fingerprints all around the drawers. You cross the room and open the top drawer. You check every one and find the same thing in all. You must have slept through it all.

All your clothes are smeared in berries. They’re starting to stink too. You take out a couple shirts and sigh. You could cry but that would only make Jada laugh louder.

You shut the drawers and grab your phone from the charger. You go back to the kitchen as you weigh the day laundry to be done. A message pops up as you pour boiling water over a tea bag. You read the screen and swipe up the phone from the counter.

‘I’ll send a car at noon. Queenie is looking forward to it.’

You read a re-read the invitation. It doesn’t leave you any room for rejection. Recalling Jada’s words, you don’t think it is an option. Thor might be nice but he is who he is. You might be just as stupid as they say getting yourself tangled up in all this mess. Yet, your only family are much more sinister than these people your sister claims to be criminals. You’ll take your chances with them.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #series #drabble #au #mob au #a touch of sweetness #marvel #avengers #mcu

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nodynasty4us · 1 day ago

Link

More from the reblogs:

Also worth noting that asking people who they're voting for or discussing candidate policies is pretty illegal on polling location grounds.#If you're a federal worker there's something called the Hatch Act that makes discussing political affairs SUPER ILLEGAL!#But yes your activism is commendable but it's more important for you to be safe. Lie like hell if you have to in order to stay safe!

how much you wanna bet republicans are going to try to go after private voting after this?

I hate that we hold up honesty as this unassailable virtue#that we don't teach people the difference between wanting to avoid taking responsibility and needing to protect yourself#it's another reason I hate corporal punishment so much#if you teach your children that it's wrong to lie even if they know you're going to hit them for telling the truth#then how are they going to know that they don't owe their spouse a truth that the spouse will hit them for?

my older sibling voted for Obama and never told our mother even tho mom was the one who DROVE them to the polling place

Republicans are really out here saying they’d rather be cucked than have their wives vote for Kamala and not tell them.

I was definitely too spooked to vote too far out of line the first time#Fun fact you don't gotta be spooked just vote whatever

for a group that loves tradition conservatives have really forgotten that so many peoples grandparents would NEVER discuss politics#EVER#my parents would never know who their parents were voting for#it was private. secret.#I never knew my grandfather's politics#either of them

and also don't say you wrote in yourself or him or someone you know because if your county releases a record of who received votes#and you or he don't appear with having received a solitary vote then he could extrapolate that you lied#so just say you voted for who he wanted you to vote for#and make plans to leave him#because if hes this frothing mad at the idea of you voting based on your own conscience then you need to get out

seriously you ain't gotta tell nobody who you vote for#also the volume and intensity of their outrage is meant to intimidate you#they are trying to scare you#'

What's "nauseating" is that these men - Watterson and Kirk - obviously don't believe in women as people, who have rights separate from men - from their fathers, husbands, or sons.

But imagine the gender-flipped scenario: An ad that tells you that you don’t have to vote for who your wife wants to vote for, and you don’t even have to tell her who you voted for — after all, you’re your own man, right? Suddenly, it sounds like common sense.

I hope we see a MASS of divorces after this.#that said I think we need to start getting ready to give additional support to battered women shelters.

If it was 1% more socially acceptable and politically strategically viable to say so, they would just straight up tell you that they want to take away your right to vote as a woman.

i remember seeing some right wingers saying that women shouldnt vote because why would you need to vote differently than your husband#and while i think comments like that are made to get people angry and talking#it's interesting to see the same exact sentiment described in this article#“imagine a man working so hard just for his wife to vote against him” thats crazy#proof they hate women and proof they hate democracy#but we already knew that

And they want to take away no-fault divorce. They don't want partners, they want possessions.

"How'd you vote?" "Same as everyone. Secret ballot."

Also if you have to lie you might seriously want to consider a lesbian affair. At least I think that's what Republicans are saying.

also the fact that the republicans were so mad about that ad proves that the ad is right#there's a reason your wife has to lie to you bud

this is on the heels of one trillion pity party op-eds scolding liberals for not wanting to date conservatives or estranging RW family

12:01 PM

The desperation to control woman is disgusting. Crazy from the party of "freedom"

republican men feeling entitled to control how their wife votes is so fuckin….#i'm grossed out for these women#we need to make it easier for divorce in the usa and i'm not joking

not quite related but u can also lie to the democrats themselves#you can say ''i wont vote for you unless you stop giving weapons to israel''… and then vote for them anyway#this is the having your cake and eating it of using your vote for political activism#except that in this case you actually can have your cake and eat it#as long as you're not discouraging others from voting just telling the democrats themselves this (#(in calls to your representative in emails etc etc)#it has no particular downside

my sisters told me they lied to our mom cause they came home to her angrily watching a trump rally#i dont know HOW she believed them#this is the same person who told me 'im not sure im going to let you leave the house until youre voting for the right person'

Republican men don't believe in female autonomy. You, as their wife, daughter, sister, and even mother are their property and its your job to vote their beliefs. Don't worry you're pretty little head and "try" and think for yourself ladies they'll do the thinkin for you….. Don't know how anyone could stand being married to or dating a man like that, but it sure seems to be quite common.

lie about who you voted for and then cheat on your husband, problem solved

Really makes me think of all the whining they do about how liberal women don't want to date conservative men. They'll say that we can just agree to disagree, but then act like a husband owns his wife's vote.

in 2016 I almost got into a fight with my aunt when I told her I voted for Clinton#it really shook me up and I think I cried afterward#both my mom and my doctor separately comforted me and told me “’you never have to tell anyone who you voted for#if they ask tell them it’s none of their business’#they went on to lament how when they were younger it was common courtesy not to ask how someone voted and they don’t like how people#feel entitled to know how someone voted

lying is easier than a divorce#he'll never know#and then maybe one day this decision can help get you the other tools you need to be free of a controlling man

Absolutely lie if you need to. This thread and the ad reminded me how my conservative parents refused to take me to absentee vote when I was in college because they knew I wasn't going to vote GOP. It was the first time I was old enough to vote, and I didn't have a car. My grandmother took me so I could vote before I went back to school. This was over 30 years ago!

so if believe these people think voting for a different candidate is like having an affair#does that mean theyre fucking trump. or something

Amazing how many republican men see their wives as extensions of themselves and not people with their own minds#to paraphrase Granny Weatherwax “Thinking of people as things is were Evil begins.”

it's a secret ballot for a reason#seriously this is why ballot selfies are banned; to protect the secrecy of your vote

“wife lying about her vote is as bad as an affair.” US is wild! Here, you go vote and press a button. Over there you go out and FUCK THE CANDIDATE! Now I understand why the voting time spread through a lot of days! It never made sense to me, but they do need to recover, get some electrolytes…

Man, conservative men just love announcing how fragile they are.

it is always okay to lie to keep yourself safe. it'd be good to start working on a plan to get tf out of this dangerous situation, mind. but: baby steps.

I don't live at my parents anymore#and I'm in a safe space so I don't give a shit about being as vocal as I am#but once upon a time I wasn't#and I got into a huge fight with my mom about it because she voted for Trump and#and I did not#and it was really touch and go whether or not I'd still have a home after that#republicans are always deep into their own dramatics#this is NOT the same as cheating and they're lying to scare you

Every man who has had an affair deserves a woman who votes for Kamala. (Not really, he deserves to be alone. His significant other certainly deserves better. I just was trying to adulterer-shame)

this ad feels sooooo familiar for anyone who's ever been in an emotionally abusive relationship#i would not put it past my dad to pull this shit if any of us (including my mom) still lived with him#all the troll comments going 'but wHy WouLd YoU LiE tO yOuR hUsBaNd???' are being intentionally dense#so that he doesn't make her life even more of a living hell behind closed doors! that's fucking why!

From the October 31, 2024 article:

“In the one place in America where women still have a right to choose, you can vote any way you want. And no one will ever know,” Roberts says in the ad as a woman on screen meets up with her husband after casting her ballot for Harris.

The voter winks at a fellow female voter as her husband asks if she made the “right choice.”

Republicans have responded to the video with outrage, with some claiming that a wife lying about her vote is as bad as an affair.

“If I found out Emma was going to the voting booth and pulling the lever for Harris, that’s the same thing as having an affair,” Fox News host Jesse Watters said on air Wednesday in a clip highlighted by Mediaite.

Other GOP members including Charlie Kirk said the thought was “nauseating.”

#voting #secret ballot #patriarchy #long post #featured

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aemondapologistfrfr · 1 day ago

Text

Anything for You - Pt2

daemon x daughter!reader

Part 1

Summary: You and Daemon have no plans to marry anyone besides who you truly desire. After a flight to Dragonstone you both get exactly what you wanted.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, fingering, public(does dragonback count as public?), oral(f), p in v, breeding kink, use of the word daddy

Authors Note: got the fall sads and it’s making my daddy issues rage so this is how it manifested 🧎🏼‍♀️ brb printing these out and sending them to freuds grave so he knows he was right 🙂

Word Count: 3.6k

ᓚᘏ��

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

I’m softly awoken by my handmaidens whispering my name. I stretch out and their hands are on me a moment later, pulling me out of bed. I’m stripped out of my nightgown and stepping into a steaming bath while yawning and grumbling about the early hour. They start to do my hair and heed my protests of no tight braids and pins. I’m whisked out of the bath and brought over to my wardrobe before being tied into one of my favorite dresses.

“Why must I be up and dressed so early?” I yawn, rolling my shoulders.

“Your father has requested you at his side in the throne room this morning.” I purse my lips wondering why he didn’t tell me about this or come wake me himself.

“Where is my father?” I pout. My handmaidens hum saying he’ll be here shortly as they finish placing my jewelry. “I don’t want that necklace, I want the one my father gave me.” I whine looking at the one being carried over to me.

“Of course, princess. Right away.” they nod and run over to my vanity to find it. I’m getting impatient as I stare at myself in the mirror. I smooth my gown and look over my frame. My head snaps up when I hear the quick knocks on my doors.

“Prince Daemon.” my guard announces and my handmaidens drop what they’re doing to curtsy and greet him.

“Here princess, I’ve found it.” my handmaiden walks over with the necklace and my father raises his hand. He takes the necklace from her and dismisses my company of handmaidens.

“I want to wear that.” I look up at my father and down again to the necklace in his hand.

“What if I told you I’ve gotten you a new one.” he smiles and my eyes light up.

“Really?” I clap my hands together.

“You know how I love to spoil you.” he gently turns me around and I feel the weight of the necklace as it rests on my chest. He leads me over to the mirror and I gasp as I take in the jewels dripping down my chest.

“This is so very beautiful.” my hand rises to caress the jewels. I twirl and admire how it matches perfectly with my gown and I turn to him with a smile. “Thank you,” I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him tightly. His hand rests on the back of my neck holding me to him and I nuzzle in closer to him.

“How did you sleep, sweet girl?” he hums, pulling back and tilting my chin up.

“Too little.” I pout. “Why must I be awake so early?” he chuckles at my tone.

“I have an important meeting with the King and Hand. I need you there with me.” I scrunch my brows at his words.

“Why?” I search his eyes and see the glint in them.

“They are wanting for me to find a new wife and for you to find a husband.” a frown forms across my features at his words.

“I don’t want to marry anyone.” I shake my head, stepping back.

“What about me?” my eyes snap to his.

“You said they wouldn’t allow it.” I chew the inside of my lip.

“They’ll have little to say if I take you to Dragonstone after this meeting. Wed you in the ways of our house. Make you mine. Claim you.” his eyes darken as he steps closer and towers above me. His hands cup my face as he places a kiss on my lips. “Would you like that?” he murmurs against me.

“Yes.” I nod my head quickly. “Please,” he presses his lips against me once more.

“Let’s go see what they have to say.” he offers me his arm and we make our way out of my chambers. The halls are surprisingly lively for this time in the morning. Servants smile and bow their heads as we pass by. Visiting Lord’s and Lady’s exchange quick pleasantries in passing. My father keeps our pace steady as we continue down the halls and my nerves rise not knowing how this meeting will go.

As we enter the throne room I spot the King and the Hand watching us with displeasure. I look at my father who offers me a nod and then turns to the King. I try to put a warm smile on my face but it feels more like a wince. There is no one else in the hall with us as we stop at the foot of the stairs. The King looks down at us with a frown and my father pulls me closer to his side.

“I wish for your blessing.” my father looks up the jagged steps.

“For what could you possibly want for now?” the Hand scoffs glaring at my father.

“For us to be wed in the old ways.” he looks down at me with a smile and I turn my head back to him as a chew on my lip with a smile

“You’ve gone mad.” my stomach drops at the King's words. The smile is erased from my face as I snap my head back to the throne.

“Has he not always been mad?” the Hands' words echo throughout the barren hall and my father barks out a laugh from next to me.

“I will not have my daughter marry some base born Lord, nor I some base born Lady.” he continues to chuckle and I cling onto his arm in comfort.

“I have sons to offer her.” the King sits at the edge of the throne. “You can have any woman in the seven kingdoms. Daemon, why must everything be like this?” he looks to my father exasperated.

“I don’t want your sons.” I shake my head looking up at the King. “I don’t want to marry anyone else.” the King lets out a loud sigh.

“The rumors surrounding you two around this Keep are scandalous enough to send me into an early grave.” the King looks us over.

“Do you not have one foot in it already?” my father lets out a snide remark and I suck in a breath watching the King's face turn red.

“You will not wed each other and that’s final.” the King rises keeping a hand on his sword.

“We shall see.” my father tugs me out of the hall quickly, ignoring the King's protests. “Listen and do everything I say.” he whispers down to me and I nod my head.

We slip out the main doors of the Keep and he’s hoisting me up onto a horse quickly. He takes a seat behind me and has us trotting through the city streets a minute later. I lean back against his chest as he weaves in and out of the large crowds. People shout at us and offer us smiles and waves while others scowl. As the dragon pits come into view my heart starts beating faster. He jumps off the horse quickly and lifts me off and pulls me into the pits after him.

“I don’t have any gowns or-“

“Shh sweet girl. You know we still have some of your old dresses and gowns there.” he hums, taking my hand and leading us into the dark tunnels. “I’ll have new ones made for you when we get there if you’re good.” I nod my head and walk a little faster causing him to chuckle.

My ears perk up as Caraxes high pitched song calls us forward. As we step into his cave I look at him in awe as I always do. My father scoots me towards his dragon as he begins to make sure everything is in place before he comes to my side and wraps his arms around me.

“A beautiful dragon.” I coo as I approach him with open palms. His neck twists and he presses his snout into my hands. “So handsome.” I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him as my father watches on.

“Come on, sweet girl.” my father hums, reaching for my arm but Caraxes grumbles. “You giant blood wyrm she’s riding with us.” he shakes his head and I turn to look at him with a smile. “We have to go before we’re stopped.” he raises an eyebrow at me and I nod and start the ascent with him. He settles into the seat and I take a seat in front of him and he holds me flush against his body.

“My gown.” I whine, trying to push it back down my legs but with the way we have to sit it it keeps riding up to the tops of my thighs.

“Be a good girl and stop whining.” he pats my thigh and commands Caraxes to take to the skies.

My hands grip onto my fathers as I’m forced back into him. I hear him chuckle in my ear as Caraxes takes us higher and higher. His song seeps through the streets of King's Landing before he shoots us over the Blackwater. He lets his back legs trail in the water casting us in a mist. I giggle as the water tickles across the skin. Caraxes brings us up to the clouds once more and I gasp as my fathers fingers trail up my thighs.

“Daddy,” I whine pushing back into him.

“Let daddy play with your sweet little cunt.” he shushes me as his hands push my legs apart even more. “Would you like that, sweet girl?” he pushes my hair off my neck to replace it with his lips. “Hm?” he trails a finger up my small clothes and I squirm in his arms.

“Yes, please,” my hand wraps around his wrist that’s teasing me.

“Say it.” he murmurs against my skin.

“I want you to play with me.” I wasn’t sure if he heard me until he dipped two of his fingers beneath my small clothes. I chew on my lip as he slides his fingers through my wetness. His touch is light and teasing and my hips are jerking to get more friction. “Please,” I beg, trembling in his arms.

“What are you begging for?” he taunts me, swirling his fingers around my bud.

“I just wanna-“ I gasp as he speeds his fingers up. “I wanna, yes,” I whine as he moves his fingers impossibly faster.

“Is daddy making you feel good?” he chuckles into my neck.

“Yes, so good daddy,” my words slurred from my pleasure. He dips down to my core to gather more wetness before circling his fingers around my bud that leaves me shaking in his arms. He bites down onto my pulse and I go limp in his arms as my pleasure bursts through me.

“Gods, you're perfect.” he kisses across my neck while removing his fingers from my small clothes. “You’re going to birth me an army with this.” his fingers trail over my soaked small clothes.

ᓚᘏᗢ

I crane my neck to look over the cliff edge at the rocky shore. The clouds have parted and the sun is shining brightly down upon us. Several handmaidens coax me closer inland near the maester. I smooth down my ceremonial gowns from the wind and watch as the handmaidens begin to fix my headpiece. I turn when I hear my fathers low voice approaching.

“My prince, should we be doing this in haste?” the maester looks at him nervously.

“We will be wed by you or another. It’s your choice if you would like to keep living.” the maesters face turns red at my fathers words. He motions for the handmaidens to usher me over to my father and on approach his face lightens with a smile. “My beautiful princess.” he hums taking my hands.

My eyes scan over him and when my eyes meet his I feel us move closer together. We stay together in our own bubble as the maester drones on. My father caresses my cheek and I lean into his warmth. The maester hands him a dragon glass blade and he looks to me as if in question. I tilt my head and his smile returns as brings the glass to my lip. The slice is quick and he offers the same to his lip. We place marks on each other's foreheads while never losing our eye contact. Our hands are next to be split open and we hold them together as the maester binds them. The maester has us repeat his words before announcing us wed.

“We are one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” we breathe out together. He dips his head down and our lips unite with a metallic taste. The handmaidens softly clap and sprinkle some white flower petals upon the stone before leaving us to each other. The maester makes himself scarce as we stand still bound to one another on the cliff edge.

“My beautiful princess and wife.” he unwraps our hands and pulls me against him once more. We cling to each other slowly staining our robes various shades of red. “All mine. Forever.” he hums cupping mug face.

“All yours. Forever.” I nod looking up to him. He places his lips in mine again before pulling back to lead us back into the castle.

The handmaidens whisk me away once we enter the hall and bring me to my old chambers. They begin to remove my ceremonial robes and help me into another bath. I allow them to clean me and rub sweet smelling oils across my skin. They help me out and dry me off before placing a sheer piece of silk over me and guiding me to the bed. They help me sit in the center before placing petals around me and blowing out some of the candles. I smile as they leave my chambers and I await my fathers return.

“My sweet girl.” my head snaps up at his voice. He shuts the door behind him and he leans against it looking me over. “My beautiful princess.” he pushes off the door and begins his walk over to me. “My wife.” he stops at the edge of my bed.

“Hi.” I bat my eyelashes at him and his smile turns serpentine.

“Are you feeling shy?” he holds his hands out for me to grab. I place my hands in his and continue to look up at him. “Acting innocent like I didn’t take your maidenhead almost two moons ago now. You remember how you begged? ‘Daddy please’ while trying to tug my trousers off?” he taunts and I feel my cheeks heat.

“Stop.” I whine, taking my hands from him and covering my face. I pout on the bed and feel it dip as he joins me on the plush mattress. He lays me back onto the bed and I slowly remove my hands from my face and look up at him. I slowly spread my legs for him and his eyes travel down to my center.

“Now who’s teasing?” he hums. His rough hands slide up my legs, spreading me wider. He lifts my hips and brings my center up to his mouth. I gasp, clawing at the sheets as he half holds me in his arms before feasting on me. My hands hold onto his arms wrapped around my hips as his tongue lashes against my bud. My slip falls down my body exposing my chest and he lets one of his hands from my hips grab onto my breast. He roughly kneads it that leaves me whimpering.

“Daddy,” I gasp as his lips incase my bud and puts all of his attention there. I come undone across his face and he removes his hands letting me bounce back onto the bed.

“I’m going to fill you so thoroughly my seed will still be seeping between your thighs tomorrow.” he looks down at me with dark eyes.

“Please,” I pull my slip the rest of the way off and he groans. I watch him with low lids as he removes his clothes and crawls back into the bed with me. His lips smash into mine and I revel in the way he envelops me.

“I’m going to fuck you nice and slow once.” he murmurs agaisnt my lips. “Then I’ll fuck you the way I know you like.” I squirm under his soft touches and he spreads my legs to press between them. He swirls his tip around my wetness before slowly pushing into me. My toes curl with every inch. Once he’s fully settled he leans down over me and presses his lips to mine again. I wrap my limbs around him as he starts to rock his hips into me.

“You always feel so good, sweet girl.” he groans as I press kisses against his neck. He leans back and watches as he slowly pumps into me. He reaches down and rolls my nipples and I arch up into his touch with a soft whine. He stills his movements and I start to move my hips on my own. “Fucking yourself on daddy’s cock like a good girl.” he chuckles before slamming back into me. His hands move from my nipples down to my hips as he slowly rolls his hips into me. Whimpers spill from my lips as I start to pulse around him and he lets out a string of curses.

“Daddy,” I reach up for him and he leans down and starts to hammer into me. My hands claw at him until he grunts and grabs them and holds them above my head.

“Always so compliant.” he grunts as my legs fall open as he continues with his brutal pace. “Keep your hands up here or you’ll be punished.” I nod, biting my lip as he removes his hand. My hands dig into the pillows above me as his hips repeatedly snap into mine. His fingers circle my bud and I cry out and grab his wrist. He pulls out of me and I cry looking at him with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry, daddy, please, please I’ll be good.” I whine as he flips me onto my stomach. His hand lands hard onto my cheeks and I arch my ass up into the air. His fingers dig into my tender flesh before slapping them again. He grabs my hips before slamming into me. My hands reach back for him and he growls before holding them against my lower back. My face is sliding against the bed as he continues his relentless pace.

“Squeezing me so good.” he rasps, letting his other hand fall to my cheek again. “Want me to fill you up?” I nod my head into the pillows. “Say it.” he lets go of my wrists and digs his fingers into my hair to lift me up.

“Fill me, daddy. Please, fill me, please,” my voice breaks at his pace. I cry out at my high washes through me again and his warmth starts to spread inside me. His pace slows but he stays settled in me and he covers my body with his.

“I’m staying inside this sweet little cunt until I’m ready to fuck you again.” I whimper, nodding my head, squeezing my walls around him. He rolls his hips into me and I whine at the feeling.

“I’m so full of you, daddy.” I let out broken whimpers.

“I’m not even close to being done with you.” he whispers into my ear. He starts to harden again and he lifts off of me. I frown at his lack of warmth before he tugs me up against his chest. His arms wrap around me holding me to him as he starts to hammer up into me. One of his hands wrap around my neck while the other goes to circle my bud and I immediately fall apart around him. “Fuck,” his hips falter as he pants into my neck.

“More,” I whine pressing back into him. He starts to fuck me again and I let my head fall back and rest on his shoulder.

“Taking me so good.” he praises before pulling out of me. I whine as he pushes me back down to the bed. He flips me over onto my back again and lifts my legs to press them against my chest. He slides into me a moment later causing moans to fall from my mouth. My hands wrap around my legs and he offers me more praise as he stands back and watches himself push into me.

“Daddy,” a strained cry falls from my lips as my pleasure slams through me so intensely my eyes roll back. He curses and I feel him twitch and begin to fill me once more. He collapses on top of me again as we continue to pant. My eyes close as I hold him tightly. He flips us, staying buried in me and allowing me to rest against his chest. He jerks his hips to remind me of the fullness and I mewl against him.

“Rest, sweet girl. I’ll wake you with more pleasure soon.” he coos brushing back the strands of hair sticking to my face. My head rests above his heart and I let its settling beats lull me to sleep.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌

i can easily be convinced to make another part 😔

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004

#prince daemon targaryen #hotd daemon #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon smut #daemon x reader smut #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #x reader smut #x reader #x reader fic

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pamwritessometimes · 3 days ago

Text

Tuesday’s Gone — Chapter 4

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: missing child trope, description and mention of murder, language, crawling in a narrow vent (I’m sorry my fellow claustrophobic loves), being held captive, being kidnapped

A/N: While proofreading, I realized my subconscious was probably influenced by @zepskies ’ S.I.N.G. (Beau Arlen x reader) fic — even with the different Jackles character. So, I want to give her credit for the first part of this chapter. 🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 3 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

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You couldn’t stop the giggles, even as Russell held you firm, your back flush against his chest, his hands pinning yours effortlessly. The whole thing was just… well, kind of hot, really.

“Y/N” he sighed for the hundredth time, clearly on the edge of his patience. “You can’t giggle your way out of an actual assault. Try to focus, will you? What would you do if I were someone else?”

“But you’re you” you teased, half-joking, half-distracted. “And anyway, self-defense is kind of pointless. We live in a safe neighborhood. Nobody’s going to lay a hand on me.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, his grip tightening slightly as he paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Look, sweetheart… you’re a young, attractive woman” he said finally. “It’d just make me feel better if I knew you could handle yourself if… anything happened when I’m not around.”

At the time, you had no idea what he meant by that.

“Can you hear that?” you whispered, your ears straining in mock suspense. Russell’s brows knit together as he shot you a confused look.

“Hear what?”

“Paranoid by Black Sabbath. Pretty sure it’s coming from over here,” you said, playfully poking your finger at his temple.

He deadpanned as he repeated your name once more. It sounded almost… pleading. You didnt miss that, and though you still thought he was being over-the-top, you decided to give in.

“Fine…” you sighed “show me these life-saving moves, oh, mighty master!”

Russell cracked a grin, but his expression quickly shifted to that serious trainer look he was trying way too hard to pull off.

“Alright. First rule: break their grip. Grab my wrist… Come on, like you mean it.”

You reached out, gripping his wrist, and he showed you how to twist and pull back, making it surprisingly easy to break free. “See? Leverage, not strength” he explained.

“Okay, fine. Not bad” you admitted, trying not to let him see you were actually impressed. It was kind of cool.

He moved on, showing you a move to throw off an attacker.

“Step in close, get low, and drive your shoulder up under their chin” he said, positioning himself as the attacker. You gave it a try, and he stumbled back with a laugh.

“That’s the spirit!” he said, straightening up. You didn’t miss the small glint of pride in his eyes. “Alright, one more. This time, if someone comes at you from behind.”

Before you knew it, his arms were around you from behind, pulling you close. It was very déjà vu to the way he’d started this whole lesson. “Now, if you were actually in danger—”

“Danger, yes” you teased, leaning back into him just a bit and looked up at him through your lashes. “How’s a girl supposed to focus with such a handsome teacher breathing down her neck? I’m kind of having trouble concentrating, you know.”

He shook his head, a grin slipping out as he loosened his grip. “Laugh it up, sweetheart, but I’m serious here. You’ve got this. Just remember what I taught you, alright? What’s the most important rule!”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “When in doubt… aim for the balls.”

Russell chuckled, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “That’s my girl” he said, pulling you into a kiss.

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A sharp throb pulsed through your skull, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in your chest. The cold floor beneath you felt like concrete, but you couldn’t be sure. For now, you kept your eyes closed, trying to piece together what the hell had happened.

The last thing you remembered was the warehouse — those two men ambushing you and Russell.

It was a trap. All of it, carefully set to lure Russell back in, and you along with him.

Your thoughts turned to Russell. He had to be here, somewhere… Somewhere close. The thought pushed you to crack one eye open. Dim light filtered through, casting shadows that made everything look warped and surreal.

You sat up slowly, feeling your muscles protest as you took in your surroundings. The room was small, cramped… more like a cell than a room.

The smell of mildew filled the air, mingling with the unmistakable metallic scent of rusted metal and something else. Blood. Your pulse quickened as you took in the details, every instinct screaming that escape wasn’t an option here.

Your gaze drifted to the far corner, where a dark shape slumped against the wall. Heart pounding, you squinted through the low light, hoping beyond hope that it was him. “Russell?” you tried to call out to him, but it was more of a whisper than anything.

A soft groan answered you, and relief mixed with dread flashed through your veins. You crawled forward, ignoring the scrape of the rough floor against your palms and knees.

As you got closer, Russell’s face came into view. It was uncharacteristically pale, smeared with a hint of dried blood. It wasn’t that bad, but still… it looked like his. His breaths were shallow, his eyes half-closed, and a few small bruises bloomed across his face and arms, telling you he hadn’t escaped this unscathed.

“Hey, Russ” you murmured, reaching out to touch his shoulder gently. His nickname felt both foreign and natural falling from your lips. It’s been a while since you called him that.

His skin was cold and clammy, but at your touch, his eyes fluttered open.

“Y/N…” he rasped with a voice that was both hoarse and somewhat defeated. He took a few moments to compose himself, but he quickly took in his surroundings. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have brought you with me.”

Your heart twisted, but you forced a small smile. “Not like I gave you a choice.”

He attempted a smile, but it faded rather abruptly, leaving a shadow of worry on his face. “Where’s Colter?”

“He— he’s not here” you replied scanning the cramped cell. “Do you think they’ve added him to their collection of ‘missing persons’?”

“I don’t know. I can only hope he’s busy slapping some sense into our captors while we’re stuck here” he said, as he tried to stand up.

As the weight of the situation settled in, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway.

You exchanged wary glances, instinctively stepping closer together.

The door to your cell creaked open, revealing a man in a brown suede jacket, sunglasses — mind you, it was inside a semi-dark room — flanked by two guards. Your heart raced as he stepped in, a self-assured smirk playing on his mischievous lips.

Behind him, a small figure shuffled into view, clutching a foreign stuffed toy anxiously.

Emma.

“Look who’s here” the man said, his voice dripping with mockery.

Emma’s wide eyes scanned the room, filled with confusion and fear. “Mommy?”

You felt your heart stop. “Baby girl”

As those words left your lips, Russell seemed frozen in place, his mind momentarily shutting down. It was the first time he was face-to-face with her, his daughter. He took in her small figure, the way she clutched a stuffed toy she probably got from these men tightly, and the wide green eyes that reflected the fear of the days spent in captivity.

His face shifted from pure shock to something that looked like it hurt, like a dam just burst inside him. For a second, all the chaos, the danger, everything melted away, leaving just the connection he felt for her.

But the moment didn’t last long, quickly swallowed up by the harsh reality. You saw the pain flicker in Russell’s eyes as he processed it all. “You’re okay, sweetheart” you assured Emma, stepping closer —only for Mr Douche’s goons to block your path with a grunt. You shot him a look, then turned back to Emma. “We’re getting you out of here.”

The man in his Aviators chuckled, sounding like a cold, amused cacophony. “Isn’t this all so touching?” he said with a mocking smile. Then, his face turned serious. “Shaw, it’s good to see you. Been what? Five? Six months”

Russell didn’t answer, clearly not falling to his little tricks. The man spoke up again. “But let’s not forget why we’re here. You’ve got a decision to make. And this time, it’s not just about you.”

You shot a glare his way before leaning closer to Russell. “Who the hell is this guy?” you whispered.

Russell’s answer was dry as his eyes stayed fixed on the man. “The greatest jackass of all time.”

This was James Rourke, head honcho at Horizon, the very top of the food chain in the world Russell once belonged to. Rourke looked out of place in his fancy brown suede jacket, like he’d wandered in from some luxury lounge instead of a prison cell. And his mustache — a perfectly trimmed little fucking pornstache, practically begging to be mocked — did nothing to make him look any less ridiculous.

Rourke’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the tension. He glanced over at Emma, who clutched her stuffed toy tighter, her little eyes darting between you and Russell. “Sweet girl” he said, his voice soaked with fake warmth “you must be wondering what’s going on. Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense soon.”

“Leave her out of this,” you snapped.

Rourke tilted his head, smirking like he found your defiance cute. “Oh, sweetie,” he drawled, flashing that irritatingly smug smile. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands.” He glanced at Russell, his eyebrows lifted with mock surprise. “Come on, Russell. Did you actually believe you could just walk away?”

Russell’s jaw tightened. “I’m done playing by your rules, Rourke.”

Rourke’s eyes lit up with that twisted, almost playful glint, like he was savoring every second of Russell’s resistance. “Oh, Russell, you seem confused. There is no choice here. You either come back… or things might get, well, complicated.” His gaze slid over to Emma, who instinctively shrank back, catching the meaning immediately, even if not completely.

Your heart hammered in your chest. “You wouldn’t dare” you hissed.

Rourke laughed, sounding genuinely amused this time. “Oh, wouldn’t I? Let’s just say I believe in incentives.” He shot a dark look at Russell “So, either you get back in line… or your little girl here learns just how persuasive I can be.”

The room went ice-cold. Russell’s fists clenched as he glared at Rourke. “You leave her out of this. She’s got nothing to do with your mess.”

Rourke shrugged like he was discussing the weather. "Then stop pretending you’re free to leave. You knew the fine print when you signed up.” He stepped back, giving the guards a nod like they were his personal fan club. “Think it over, both of you. And just a heads-up… I don’t make empty promises.”

As Rourke strode out — with Emma being pulled by her tiny hand, crying out for wanting to stay with you — he shot a final smug look over his shoulder, and the guards followed, slamming the cell door shut behind them.

You sighed as the lock clicked, trapping you both in again. But Russell wasn’t about to throw in the towel. Staying put? Not a chance. Not with you and Emma tangled in this nightmare, and definitely not with Rourke trying to pull the strings.

His gaze swept the cell, then froze on something up high: an air vent, nearly hidden behind a stack of old crates.

“Perfect” he muttered, a hint of determination lighting up his face.

He grabbed one of the crates and slid it under the vent, then looked at you with that familiar spark in his eye. He hauled one of the crates over and tapped it, motioning for you to step up. “Give me a hand up, sweetheart. If we can get the screws loose, we’re gone.”

The nickname caught you off-guard. It fell so easily from his mouth, yet, it seemed so bittersweet now. “Sweetheart?”

He flashed a quick grin, already reaching for the vent. “Old habits die hard. Now, help me with this, yeah?”

You nodded, steadying him as he climbed up and started working on the vent cover. Using a rusty nail he pried from one of the crates, Russell twisted at the screws, working them free with grunts of effort.

With the last screw finally out, you both heard voices echoing from the hallway. Adrenaline kicked in as you climbed up and squeezed into the narrow vent, praying this actually led somewhere.

You hated this. Your claustrophobic ass was kicking you from the inside. How did you end up in a mess like this?

“How are you holding up?” he asked in a whisper, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable. Right. He remembered.

“Stop talking, continue crawling.” you said hurriedly. The less you acknowledged the suffocating surroundings, the better.

YYou crawled along, knees scraping, until you spotted a grate at the end. Kicking it loose, you dropped into a pitch-black storage room. Quietly, you slipped into the hallway beyond, letting Russell lead — his sure footing somehow both reassuring and a little unnerving.

“You know this place?” you whispered, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice.

“Nah” he muttered, casting a glance around. “Just following my instincts.”

“Oh, good. And what do your instincts say about where Emma is?”

Then, like something straight out of a scripted movie, you heard it: a small voice that was unmistakably hers. “Mommy?”

You turned the corner, and there she was, standing behind a closed door with a small window, clutching her stuffed toy. No guards in sight felt like a miracle. Relief and desperation flooded you all at once. The door was locked tight, and there was no key laying around, for obvious reasons.

You watched with a continuously racing heart as Russell pulled a paperclip from his pocket — of all things — and straightened it. “Can’t believe they missed this little bad boy” he murmured, working it into the lock. His gun and knife hadn’t been as lucky; those were gone in an instant. But the paperclip? Somehow, it had slipped right past their search.

With a quiet click, the lock gave way, and Russell shot you a quick, triumphant grin.

You threw the door wide, scooping Emma into your arms as her tiny hands clung to you like a lifeline. She was trembling. Crying.

“Shh, baby girl” you whispered, holding her close. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Russell debated to reach out, but decided now was not the time for a great family reunion. His eyes darted down the hall. “Alright, let’s get out of here before Rourke’s even had his morning coffee.”

“What about Colter?”

“I don’t know if he’s here. And the sooner we get her and you out of here, the better chances of… this ending good.”

He knew Colter could be in hot water, but he told himself he could handle it. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself to suppress the guilt. So far, there were no signs of Colter being around, and Rourke hadn’t mentioned him at all, which made him hope his brother was safely hiding somewhere.

And his priority right now was standing in front of him.

With Emma safe in your arms, you took a breath, steeling yourself for the final sprint to freedom.

You three tiptoed down the hallway when you turned a sharp corner and spotted a guy in black standing there. No visible weapons, which was a small victory in itself.

Your heart skipped a beat, but Russell quickly pulled you back next to the wall. He weighed his options, knowing he had to act fast.

“This ain’t going to be pretty. Just—“ he said as he motioned for you to turn around. You knew well what he was planning. And that indeed wasn’t going to be pretty. You nodded with a leaping heart and turned your back to him, clutching Emma’s head close to your chest, desperately trying to muffle any sounds that might come soon.

God, she's going to need a mountain of therapy after this. And maybe that puppy she’s been talking about.

Russell shot you a quick squeeze on the shoulder, a silent promise that everything would be okay. Then he stepped forward, moving with the kind of focus that made you hold your breath. You pulled Emma close with your heart racing as the seconds felt like goddamn hours.

There was a muffled thud.... and then silence. Russell’s hand on your back signaled it was safe, and you turned to see him standing over the guard, dusting off his hands with a grim, almost satisfied look.

“Alrighty” he whispered “no more interruptions, yeah?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, tightening your hold on Emma. Step by step, the three of you crept down the hallway, avoiding every echo and shadow, your goal almost within reach.

Then, up ahead, an exit sign cast a faint glow. Freedom was close enough to taste, and you exchanged a quick glance with Russell. You fult that tiny flicker of hope.

You took a deep breath, squeezing Emma a little tighter. Her small arms wrapped around your neck, a reminder of why you were risking everything. You need to stay calm.

Well, seemingly calm, at least.

You and Russell exchanged a look. Words weren’t necessary; you both knew exactly what was on the line here. Funny, you thought, how his combat skills now felt like a strange kind of comfort.

Just a few more steps down the hallway, and you ended up in a large, warehouse-style room, crates stacked high, lights flickering like something straight out of a bad action movie.

“Really? A crate room?” you muttered.

Russell scanned the area, eyeing a side door. “That might be our way out.”

“Oh yeah? Is that your gut talking, or do you actually know?”

Before he could shoot back, footsteps echoed down the hall. Russell hissed a quick curse and signaled for you to duck behind a stack of crates.

You crouched down, holding Emma close as the door creaked open and two guards strolled in, giving the room a once-over like they had it all under control.

“Think they’d make it this far?” one guard muttered.

The other chuckled. “No way. Shaw’s decent, but those two he’s with? Dead weight.”

Russell sized them up and he leaned in close. “Stay low.”

You gave a small nod, clutching Emma tighter.

Russell edged closer to the guards, blending into the shadows like a pro. In one smooth motion, he slammed the first guard into the second, and they both crumpled to the ground like a pair of falling dominoes. Before they could even register what was happening, he struck with quick punches and a perfectly timed knee, leaving them both out cold and wondering what just hit them.

Once they were on the floor, Russell wasted no time. He crouched down, quickly rifling through the guards’ gear. “We’re gonna need these” he muttered, pulling a pistol from one guard’s holster and a knife from the other. With practiced ease, he tucked the pistol into his waistband and handed the knife to you. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looked you over.

You raised an eyebrow at the guards' bodies, really, desperately trying to convince yourself they’re just sleeping. As you gripped the knife, you tried to motion your position to cover most of the scene from Emma. It worked, she was only focused on you. And you were only focusing on the difficulty of keeping her close with one hand.

Man, she is getting big.

“Well, my self-defense teacher never covered how to use a knife” you quipped.

Russell chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Just use it on instinct. Don’t hesitate when it counts. And remember to—”

“To aim for the balls” you finished with a smirk.

“I’d really like to meet your teacher. Must be a real pro” he said with a smirk.

You shrugged. “Eh, he was handsome, sure. But turned out he kept secrets.”

“Sounds like a total douche” he muttered, though you caught the guilt in his voice.

“Yep. Was a major douche.”

“Was?”

You gave him a teasing glance. “Well… I’m still trying to figure out what he’s like now.”

With a small smile and a quick glance at the guards, he pocketed extra ammo and anything else that might come in handy. Armed and ready, he led you both to the side door.

With Emma snug in your arms and a renewed sense of determination, you stepped into the night together.

For a second, the three of you standing there almost looked like some offbeat family photo… bittersweet, and about as far from normal as it gets.

But the moment you took in your surroundings, you felt a chilly sensation. This sure as hell didn’t look like Idaho Falls. Nor the rundown warehouse you’d started in.

You had no idea where you were.

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Next on Tuesday’s Gone (Sneak Peak from Chapter 5)

Emma tilted her head while her expression turned adorably thoughtful. “You’re hairy. Like grandpa.”

Russell chuckled as he ran a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s my pirate look.”

Her eyes lit up at the word pirate. “Are you a pirate?! Can I be one, too?”

“Absolutely” he replied. “But we have to be sneaky pirates, okay? No one can know we’re here.”

Your heart did a little flip at the sight. The way he talked to your daughter — his daughter — his voice surprisingly soft and sweet, even in this situation. Emma’s reaction wasn’t a shock, though. She had a habit of linking beards (like the one your dad rocked) with safety and familiar love.

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Whoa, we finally got that wonderfully chaotic family reunion! Can’t wait to dive deeper into Emma and Russell’s relationship in the upcoming chapters.

I hope you enjoyed reading.

Chapter 5 coming soon….

🤍Taglist🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989

#russell shaw x reader #russell shaw fanfiction #russell shaw x you #russell shaw #tracker fanfiction #tracker cbs #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #Tuesday’s Gone

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dduane · 8 hours ago

Note

I just read the part where Kirk experiences the Enterprise's point of view in The Wounded Sky to someone else, where she sees the crew as children she is training up to the Great Desire of exploration for exploration's sake, especially Jim. His reaction, essentially: "That was really pretty. ....And then he blows her up."

I hadn't thought about that before! I checked the copyright date, and it looks like The Wounded Sky came out a year before The Search for Spock, so you were writing without knowing that sacrifice would eventually happen.

How did you feel about that? Do you wish that writing decision had been made differently? (If, as a Trek writer, you're allowed to comment on other Trek writers' choices!)

You know, I tend not to think a whole lot about such issues. First of all, because (in the long run) it gets you nowhere in particular that's useful. And secondly, because it's not a thing that, as a Trek writer in any medium except film, you have the slightest power to change.

Now, at this end of time I think we can safely say that no one's going to hire me on to write a Trek film. And also that no one at that end of the creative spectrum is going to pay the slightest attention to anything I say, either. Both of those situations are just What's So, and neither of them bothers me. (Since I have universes of my own to manage at the moment, and that's where my attention properly lies.) So as regards my opinions about other writers' work, I'm pretty much off the hook.

If I had been on screenwriting duty for that film, would there be things I'd have wanted to do differently? Hell yeah. From the premise up. But the important thing here is: would those things necessarily have worked better on the screen / with the audience? Impossible to tell. And speaking as someone repeatedly given permission to work in someone's universe, the main thing to be aware of is the expectation that your chief responsibility is to do what best serves the characters and the IP of which they're part. (There's a post over at Out of Ambit with a lot more of my thoughts on the subject:)

The other thing to remember is that, though I've worn the Canonical Hat in my time, novel work is by definition non-canonical. Doing it, you are at all times working with the understanding that the licensor rarely views your work as anything better than a corporate side hustle—a way for the IP to make some cash on the side—and will ignore you and the stuff you've created unless given pressing reasons to do otherwise. (Such as when they might make some unexpected money off it... at which point you remind yourself as forcibly as necessary that what you did is Work For Hire; they own it, lock, stock and barrel, and you should not realistically expect to be given any credit.)

And, if you understand the rules and enjoy the work enough, all of this is okay. The reward is not in making a lot of money doing it, or even in having aspects of your work openly assumed into canon. The reward lies in being allowed to contribute to a given universe in public (and, yeah, getting paid for it by the licensor). It's not payback: it's payforward. And you're left an astonishing amount of freedom to bring your vision to that universe. (Sometimes... as one colleague has McCoy say... you have to be "very, very careful" to get away with it. But it can be done.)

The truth is that even in the 1980s, I was sharing this level of playing-in-a-universe with a goodish cohort of editors and writers: a big roomful at least. Now I'm sharing it (retroactively speaking) with hundreds of them. With the best will in the world, even in the 80's the licensors (as regarded film) couldn't have realistically polled/listened to all of us regarding our creative opinions about the screenplay end of things. As for what that'd look like nowadays... I'll leave you to your own deductions. 😏

Anyway, thanks for the question. It's always nice to know that there are people who want to know what you think. 😊

#Star Trek #Star Trek novels #Star Trek: The Search for Spock #canonicity #screenwriting

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kutie-so-serious · 1 hour ago

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Heyy, putting this on the serious blog because, well it is (I was tagged as @kutie106)

I’m a minor. I’m not old enough to vote yet, but by the next election I will be.

I’m not cis, but I’m very cis-passing. Trans rights are some of the most threatened right now, and if the wrong people get into offices, their anti progressive policies could be irreversible. And let’s be real, everyone is affected by these. Anti trans policies block cis people, especially women, from getting health care too. Blocking access to procedures, hormones, and other medical services, targeting trans people, is not exclusive to them. Taking away the rights of our lovely trans brothers and sisters and family overall is the opposite of what America is supposed to stand for.

Women’s rights are another important issue here. Just… holy shit it’s bad. How America is fumbling women’s rights right now is no different from how it was 100 years ago. Yknow, like, when polio was still a problem. The right to reproduce, or not, is completely up to the person whose body it is. God, I don’t understand how people just don’t get that. I live in a really red county in a decently blue state, and when my friend and I did a project on Roe v Wade (after it was overturned)… boy we got some looks. But what we also got was a surprising amount of support. Turning the tide on these issues is not impossible. We just need numbers.

anyway, I had to stop writing this for like 2 hours for choir rehearsal so I kinda lost my train of thought but I figured I’d share this too

when trump was elected, I was 6. I was a very sheltered 6 year old, but I was smart enough to know that the next 4 years would be interesting. And they were. 2016-2020 happened, and then it was the 2020 election. I was 10, and I was glued to the news, finding it funny how many absurd things trump could say and do. Again, I was a very sheltered kid. I didn’t understand the impact he was having on people. But I was happy when Biden won. I even watched the inauguration. Now in the 4 years since then, I started and finished middle school, and started high school. I’ve had the chance to meet people from completely different backgrounds and cultures, and I’ve seen new perspectives. All of them, no matter from what side, have reinforced my beliefs that a second trump term would be no less than disastrous. I don’t agree with some of Kamala’s policies. She’s not perfect, nobody is. But we need her in office, because the other option is so much worse.

so, the yapfest is over now. I hope pouring my heart out the night before the election at least can reach someone who needs to hear it. Please vote blue. If not for yourself, than for us

not tagging anyone bcz I feel a lil uncomfortable doing that sorry guys

I’m so scared for Tuesday.

For those who live in other countries and do not know the date of the US election, it’s November 5 aka this Tuesday.

I’m so scared. I was raised watching the news 24/7, it was always on; which now means, I am into politics and have very strong opinions

When it was the 2016 election, I was scared. Just before the election I did a project on her and when she lost I cried. I was six.

In the 2020 election, I was scared. I remember being at home sitting on the floor watching the news and my cousin, she was five, I was explaining the situation, the candidates, and the issues. She told me she really hoped Biden won. When he did I screamed and told her. I cried of relief. I was ten.

Now it’s the 2024 election, I am more scared now than ever. That same cousin is now nine, and she convince my undecided Uncle, on her own, to vote for Kamala. I’m so scared and I can’t understand the severity of the situation now more than ever. I hope that at the end of this week I still can say I feel safe. I will cry no matter which way the election goes either out of relief or out of fear for me, my friends and my family. I am fourteen.

I’m praying at the end of this week my friends, my family, and myself are still safe and have access to healthcare and online resources.

I am so scared for Tuesday.

Vote for me and our generation because we can’t.

Vote Blue.

💙💙💙

Please share this and remind people to register and go out and vote

^Click here to check your ballot, if your registered, where to vote, count down to voting and more

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daydreams-after-dark · 3 days ago

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Free Use Jail Cell, Part 5

MDNI // 18+ content

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 1400 (part 5)

Chapter Summary: Aftercare and kindness from one of the officers.

A/n: This was supposed to be the double pen with the Aussies, but I felt it really important for our y/n to have a breather after that sesh with Jeongin. I promise next chapter it will be them.

CW: aftercare, introspection, shame, comfort.

You lay on the wet, cold tiles alone, and begin to sob. What had just taken place was intense and now your body is shaking. You can’t make sense of it. You enjoyed what Jeongin did to you, but maybe your body couldn’t handle it?

A little voice inside you says there must be something wrong with you if that’s the kind of interaction you craved.

You pull your knees to your chest and will yourself to start counting, just like you were instructed.

One… two… three…

You’re so fucking sick.

What’s wrong with you?

Four… five… six.

Freak! You’re a freak!

You try to ignore the voice in your head.

You barely get to the count of ten before the bathroom door violently opens. You look up, startled, to find Officer Minho holding a towel and large, thick blanket staring at you with concern.

He puts them down by the sink and immediately comes to crouch down in front of you.

“You can stop counting now.” He whispers, reaching out to push the wet strands of hair out of your face.

“Look at me.” He tilts your head up so you can’t do anything but look him in the eye. His expression held a tenderness, much like when he carefully took you to your cell earlier.

“Fuck. You should have used your safe word, not just the colour system.” He clicks his tongue and stands, helping you to your feet. “Let’s wash you properly and get you warm.”

You know you’re out of it when you can barely stand, but Minho supports you carefully with strong arms. He washes you too, gently, all the while his clothes become more and more drenched.

”Turn around, I need to wash your back.” He says. You allow him to turn you to face the wall while he soaps up your back. You’re not sure what he must be thinking, but you don’t want him getting the wrong idea about his - you’re not sure what they are to each other. Friend? Colleague?

”I wanted it.” You whisper ashamedly. “He didn’t do anything wrong.” You’re met with a grunt and silence.

”How did you know I was here?” You ask.

”Jeongin came and got me straight away.” He replied. “We’re not really going to leave you without aftercare. We’re not that bad.” He scoffs at the last part of the sentence, as though he doesn’t quite believe himself.

He shuts off the water and dries you down with the towel. Neither of you say anything, despite the fact you have so many questions. He is intriguing to you, and, for some reason, you feel safest with him.

Sure Officer Han and Hyunjin seem safe and kind, but Minho? He feels protective, considerate. Even if he did do those extreme things to you in the interrogation room.

After he deems you dry enough, he wraps the thick blanket around you.

”Are we going straight to the Chief and-“

”You’re not in any state to go there yet. You’re going to rest.” He decides, and leads you back towards your cell.

But that’s not where he’s taking you. You realize you’re headed to the interrogation rooms. Your heart picks up a gear, and you wonder if you’re in for a surprise scenario? Maybe Minho wants another turn of you? The thought makes you feel nervous in your stomach, but not in a fearful way. Oh god, you’re not feeling feelings are you?

Officer Minho opens the door to an interrogation room, and it can’t be any more different from the one you were in earlier. This one has painted walls, fresh, clean linoleum flooring, and a warm glow coming from the lamps around the room. A desk stands where the metal slab of a table was in the other room, and a couch on the far wall.

“Come, sit. Rest.” Minho instructs, gesturing to the couch.

You do as you’re told, and sit on the couch, tucking your legs up and snuggling into the blanket.

Minho sits next to you, picking up a book from a side table and begins to read.

You’re not sure what to do. He obviously doesn’t want to chat, or fuck, so you decide to close your eyes and rest just like he suggested.

You would love to ask him why he does this for a job, or even something as little as what his favorite food, or movie is. But you don’t. You’re far more tired than you thought, drifting off quickly.

You’re not sure how long you’d been asleep for when a soft knock at the door has you stirring, and you open an eye to watch Han enter the room with coffee cups. You let your eyes close again, listening to their conversation.

“Looks like Jeongin really gave it to her?” He whispers in a shocked tone.

“She’s fine. Just needs to rest. From what Jeongin said, she used the color code orange, then requested he use the real knife.”

Han let out a low whistle. “No wonder she needed to hire us if this is what her fantasies entail.” He pauses. “She looks so pretty when she’s asleep.” He coos.

“Absolutely not.” Minho says sternly.

“But,” he whines. “She was really into it before.”

“We’re not on the clock. She needs rest, and besides, you will get another chance tomorrow.”

“Ugh! I had to share her before, and tomorrow I’ll have to share her with everyone.” You can’t see him but you can tell by his tone he’s pouting.

“Ya! I had to share too, remember.” He growls.

Their bickering is oddly comforting, and you find yourself drifting off to sleep again, dreaming of Minho taking you out for a meal and talking about normal, everyday things.

————-

You wake to the smell of coffee and a cooked breakfast, although you’re not sure whether it’s really morning or not. You lost track of time long ago.

“Here, y/n. Eat.” Minho hands you a plate of eggs, toast and sausages. “You’ll need your strength for your final two encounters.”

You take the plate, smiling at the man who looks like he hasn't slept a wink. Was he watching over you?

He perches himself on the edge of the desk and watches you take a bite of toast.

“What made you sign up for… this?” He asks curiously.

You hesitate. “Well…” you set the slice of toast down on the plate. “ Oh god can you really share this? “It’s just…I’ve got these really intense fantasies. I don’t know why. I don’t know where they came from.” Tears begian to form in your eyes. “I guess I’m just some sick freak or something.”

You can’t hold back the tears and they spill down your cheeks and Minho is by your side in a heartbeat.

“Hey, hey… shh.” He pulls your hands away from where you’re trying to hide your face. “Listen to me. You’re absolutely not a sick freak. Who the fuck made you believe that?”

It was all your previous partners. Their words ring in your head.

You’re too much.

Why would you want me to do that?

What’s wrong with you?

Every single one of them made you think there's something wrong with you. You tried to make the fantasies go away. You really did. But they wouldn’t. You couldn’t shake them. You tried to be satisfied with “regular” sex, and yes, that was enjoyable to a point. But you craved more.

“Why do you do this job?” You meet his eyes. He hesitates, eyes blinking rapidly. Maybe no one has ever asked him this?

“Because I have intense fantasies too.” He leans back on the couch. “I think all of us here do. I think all of us have felt different, or like as you said, a “freak”, but we’re not. None of us, including you, are freaks. As long as boundaries and rules are established, it’s perfectly fine.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “You’re the first person to make me feel like I’m normal.” You whisper.

He leans forward and wipes the last of your tears away, and you feel a tug in your chest. His eyes catch your lips, and there’s a flicker of want in his expression. Then you remember he doesn’t do “kissing on the lips”. Then why does he look like he wants to?

A silence hangs in the air, but the moment is lost when there’s a knock at the door.

“It’s time.” Minho whispers.

————-

a/n: Okay, so I am not sure what happened, but Minho! He snuck in and made y/n's heart skip a beat.... and I feel like maybe his did too.

Next up: really, we will have Felix and Channie!

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@jeonginsleftcheek @meilix @itgirlalisaa @linocz @boi-bi-ahaha @frozenpeasworld @grandma143 @milkypinkmimi @bangchansbbgirl @lunearta @leefelixsslut @privhace @justforreaders @galaxycatdrawz @melochacco @jiwoos-babygirl @kavifornia @chuuyaobsessed @iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @courtnort455 @brimarie0512 @dwaekkicidal @kibs-and-bits @txa-r @minh0scat @the-sweet-rose @chrizzztopherbang @velvetmoonlght @youcanstayyeah @skzswife @stephanieeeyang @withnia @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ihrtlino

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @melochacco

#skz smut #skz ot8 x reader #sorshas fic #ot8 free use jail cell

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