#and that all of this would have made a family better than anything she could have dreamed of

[indecisive-gm]

Well, I need to get myself to do some kind of writing. This one'll be in English, the next one in German

Deutsche Übersetzung: Nun, ich muss dazu bringen, ein bisschen zu schreiben. Dieses wird auf Englisch, das Nächste wird auf Deutsch.

Jamie woke up and looked around. The room was dark enough that she couldn't see anything. Her legs were asleep, but she could feel the cold metal of the chair on her arms and the rope tied around her wrists. What had happened? The last thing Jamie could remember, she had been on her way home from a trip to the store. Someone must have snuck up on her and abducted her. Maybe Ryla's advice about walking with other people at night in the city wasn't such a bad idea.

The lights turned on, blinding Jamie for a moment as her eyes adjusted. When she could see again, she recognized the face of the person coming in from the door.

"Roger!" she sighed. "It's you! How did you find me?"

Roger didn't speak. Not too unusual for him. He was polite--even pretty friendly once you got to know him--but he was quieter and often focused on getting to business. He immediately walked around behind Jamie's chair and started fiddling with the rope.

"Sooo, which one of them sent you to come get me?" Jamie jested. Roger glared in response. "Oh, I know you care. I was just messing with you!"

The knot in the rope tightened, and Roger took a step back. This wasn't right. Jamie knew Roger could tie and untie knots; he'd helped her tie her bike with a chain when she forgot the lock for it. It wasn't likely a joke either. Roger never had much of a sense of humor.

That's when another figure entered the room. Jamie didn't know him, and he didn't look friendly. He was followed by two other men, each with a gun visibly holstered. The man looked at Jamie and grinned. "You still got it in ya after all, Tim."

Roger grumbled, "Yes. did you think I didn't?"

"We had to be sure," the man in the suite responded. "What, with this running off and taking on a new name. We needed to be sure you were still part of the family." He stepped forward and put a hand of Roger's cheek. "We are, aren't we?"

Roger met eyes with Jamie. What was he going to do? Jamie had thought he was a nice person--even a good friend--up until now. When Ash's phone got a virus, it was Roger who fixed it and recovered the files. When Jackson fell down the stairs and broke her leg, it was Roger who had made a splint on the spot and instructed everyone on what to do to help her. When boys from one of the fraternities made lewd comments at Ryla, it was Roger who scared them off before things escalated. And when Jamie first came to the city, it was Roger who helped her get settled in in the group's shared apartment. After all this, was this really who he was?

Roger looked back to the man in the suit. "Of course."

The man chuckled and slapped Roger on the back. "Good to hear, my boy. I knew you were a smart one. Let's clean up here and go back home."

The men started to leave, and Roger followed. As the door was closing, Jamie heard the man speak again. "Timmy, you know better than to leave loose ends like this." The door shut, and Jamie couldn't clearly hear the rest of the conversation.

BANG! Gunshots erupted from the other side of the door. Jamie was too scared to scream. Silence followed, and blood pooled under the door.

After a minute or so, the door started to open again. Jamie closed her eyes and prepared herself for it to be over. Maybe Roger had held true for a final standoff, but that was over. And now her life would be over too.

She felt something tug at the rope on her wrists. "They shot my right arm. I'll need you to listen to my instructions to help get this rope off of you." It was Roger's voice!

"Roger! You're-"

"Alive, yes. Let's... not speak of this, ok?"

"But..." Jamie took a moment to think about what had happened. Roger's association with the mob would explain some of his skills, but it opened more questions. Where to even start?

Roger answered, "Ash and Jackson would just be scared if they found out, and Ryla has enough on her plate already. Besides," he gestured to the dead bodies just outside the door. "These guys won't be waking up any time soon, and the rest of the gang will be too shaken by the incident to come after me. There, now pull your left hand out."

Shaking the slight numbness from her left hand from where the ropes had decreased circulation, Jamie shook her head. "Fine, I'll try not to let them know." Looking over at the dead gunmen, Jamie said to Roger, "You're sure we shouldn't at least call the police?"

"And get myself arrested too? I'd rather not. Pull on that loop now. No, the other one."

The rope around Jamie's right hand fell loose to the ground, and she stood up. And immediately fell over. "Ow!"

"Yeah, careful. You've been sitting down for a while, and you took a pretty bad scrape when I knocked you out before."

Waiting a moment as she rubbed her legs and felt the prickle of feeling returning to them, Jamie thought about the situation. "Why wait until now?"

"What?"

"Why wait until now to kill those guys if you knew it was going to happen anyway? You didn't need to kidnap me like that!"

"I... wasn't sure what to do." Roger looked down in shame. "I thought I was free, so I was caught by surprise when they found me. I followed their orders up until now, hoping to avoid the worst." He looked up at Jamie. "But I'm not willing to do the worst to avoid the worst. I want to help people, and I want to be a good friend." They both stood in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry for what happened. It won't happen again."

Jamie looked around the room one last time. With the light and not having to fear for her life about the people in front of her, she could actually get a good look at everything, not that there was much to see. It was a small cellar room, almost like a closet. Just outside the door, she could see a water heater and a washer and drier. Fortunately, this wouldn't be the last room she would see. Roger almost killed her here, but things could have ended worse. Looking back at Roger, no longer entirely sure what to think of him, she offered, "Well, I guess we can go home now?"

"Ah, not just yet." He gestured to his right arm which had been shot and to the blood all over his jacket and pants. He walked past Jamie to the drying machine and took out a clean pair of pants. "If I could borrow that closet for a second."

Jamie waited a moment in the laundry room while Roger changed pants in the cellar closet. This wasn't what she had expected, but how much could she really blame Roger? He was in a bad situation and did what he could. He had been one of the kindest and most helpful people she had known up to now. Was she ready to throw that away?

Roger came out of the cellar closet in a fresh pair of pants and without his jacket. "I found this old gym bag in the corner of the room. It looks like it hasn't been used in a while, so I don't think the owner will miss it too much. It'll help hide the bloody clothes." With a t-shirt and fresh sweat pants, he looked more like himself--though the slightly bloody torn cloth wrapped around his arm was new.

No, Roger had helped everyone else when they needed it, Jamie wouldn't be giving up on her friend now. Roger had clearly been through a lot. He had definitely hurt people, but he was trying so hard to do better, and had become a reliable figure to look up to for others. This was a horrible day, but Roger had done what he could in the end, and Jamie couldn't fault him for that.

"Let's get you to a hospital for your arm."

"No," Roger replied. "I've dealt with this before. I'll survive."

"You've helped us, it's time I do something to return the favor. We can stop at home first to drop off your jacket and pants."

Today you just found out your roommate with strange hobbies, like knowing how to pick a lock, knows how every puzzle and cipher by heart, or how to commit tax fraud, and so many other things, wasn't a guy with ADHD, he was an ex-assassin and now you have a gun pointed at your face

[maxdibert]

Hello!! I really like your blog ^^ Do you have any headcanons about Tobias Snape and his relationship with Severus?

Yes, I have quite a few headcanons, both about him and about their relationship. Here are some:

Severus was born in 1960, so Tobias must have experienced WWII in one way or another. I imagine him coming from a working-class family that suffered the consequences of the war when his father had to go to the front. Tobias was probably still a teenager, and if they were already poor, the absence of the family’s breadwinner made them even poorer, and he would have started working at a very young age, almost as a child.

The trauma of war and having to take charge of his family so young likely shaped his personality. From an early age, he acted like an adult and accumulated a lot of anger that he didn’t know how to process because 1) men in that era were ticking time bombs, as they weren’t allowed to show their emotions, and 2) if you weren’t violent, you didn’t survive. Period.

He worked in a factory and was quite frustrated with how little he earned and the fact that he was never promoted beyond being a laborer. He started frequenting pubs after work at a young age and began drinking very early as well.

He let out his anger by getting into drunken fights.

He met Eileen Prince when he was about 35, and she was 10 or 12 years younger. She looked like a well-to-do young lady, and he was quite smooth-talking, so it wasn’t hard for him to win her over.

Eileen seemed like one of those women who appeared fragile, and Tobias liked that. It reinforced the image of the macho breadwinner and family man typical of the time, which he liked to embody. It gave him confidence because, as a nobody, it was the only thing his ego could cling to.

He didn’t care that her family wanted nothing to do with their marriage; he saw it as a kind of triumph. He had won the girl, "conquered" her, and those posh idiots who seemed to be her parents could go to hell.

All of this changed when Severus was born and Eileen told him she was actually a witch. That was the beginning of his descent into hell because his fragile masculinity, rooted in patriarchal ideals of manhood, couldn’t handle the fact that his wife was more powerful than he was. That she had powers, that she could do anything with a wave of her wand. It stripped him of the head-of-household role he had built for himself. If his wife could do anything with just a whisper, and he couldn’t get beyond being a factory laborer, then what was left of him?

He began showing hostility every time Eileen displayed any kind of magic. Over time, she repressed herself more and more until she finally stopped using it altogether. Tobias became increasingly intimidating whenever she mentioned her powers, to the point of verbally abusing her when he came home drunk. Eventually, when Severus started showing signs of being a wizard, Tobias felt so alienated from his own family that this was when the physical violence began.

Eileen didn’t dare use magic because her family had rejected her, and Tobias was all she had left. She clung to her marriage and obeyed him in everything he said. But his frustration, lack of self-esteem, and constant personal failures only worsened his temper, and he always took it out on her. He would accuse her of thinking she was better than him because she was a witch, of mocking him behind his back with Severus, and he constantly reminded her that she would have nothing without him (classic abusive behavior, nothing new under the sun).

He was always deeply frustrated with Severus because, from a young age, Severus showed a strong interest in intellectual rather than physical pursuits: books, stories. It wasn’t just because he was interested in magic and Tobias felt intimidated by something he couldn’t access. It was also because Tobias had built his self-image as a strong man through his physicality—someone who had survived a war, endured a brutal post-war period, and worked with his hands from a young age. His son lacked all those traditionally masculine qualities. Instead, he was drawn to interests Tobias didn’t even understand because he had barely finished primary school. This frustrated him immensely, so he tried to force Severus to be a "real man" from the start. But when he got nowhere, he eventually took it out on the boy. He beat him with a belt whenever he saw Severus doing "sissy" things, showing interest in the magical world, or simply failing to embody the epitome of masculinity Tobias wanted in a worthy son.

As a child, Severus was deeply afraid of his father. This fear partly fueled his interest in the Dark Arts. He fantasized about using a curse on Tobias one day to make him suffer and pay for everything he had done. It’s no coincidence that Severus was ahead of his peers; it was a form of self-defense. He would secretly read old books from his mother or ask her questions when Tobias wasn’t home. But as Severus grew older, Eileen became more emotionally distant, eventually becoming almost a ghost in the house.

As a teenager, Severus felt nothing but disgust for his father. He despised being related to someone so pathetic and simple. He threw himself into his studies because, on some unconscious level, he believed that the more he learned, the more knowledge he acquired, the farther he would be from someone as illiterate and brutish as his father, who seemed almost animalistic to him. Ending up in a house full of upper-class people was a way for him to dissociate from his own origins, adopting mannerisms and striving to set himself apart.

This infuriated Tobias even more. To him, his son not only thought he was better because he was a wizard, but now he was also attending that boarding school full of "posh prissy idiots" and coming home as an effeminate weakling, trying to sound like some upper-crust Londoner. Tobias would grab him by the neck and slam him against the wall, yelling furiously, asking if a scrawny, weak runt like him seriously thought he was better than his own father. Deep down, Severus liked provoking this reaction because he knew he had hurt Tobias's ego.

Through his Slytherin peers, Severus came to understand that Muggles were like that—violent, unpleasant, always seeking to harm wizards. And in a way, Severus believed it, because his father was like that. His father was violent, uncivilized, while the pureblood wizards he met during those years were intellectual, highly knowledgeable, elegant, and well-mannered. They were eloquent, interesting people, full of curiosity and ambition. What Severus knew of Muggles was nothing but filth, violence, resentment, and hatred. It was his father shouting, the smell of alcohol from the pubs he always went to, the factory friends who staggered home with him late at night, always filthy and barely literate. Magic was extraordinary; Muggles were dusty streets, old, soot-covered houses that looked ready to collapse, beggars in the alleys, and families who couldn’t even afford proper clothes. What his housemates said about Muggles made sense because he had lived it.

By the time Severus was 16, he almost cursed his father during one summer holiday. Tobias had gone into a rage and assaulted Eileen and then him. But Severus held back; he didn’t want to risk expulsion or losing his wand. However, he was intimidating enough to make Tobias almost wet himself in fear. After that, Tobias restrained himself; he was no longer physically violent, only verbally abusive. They barely spoke when Severus came home for the holidays. Tobias barely spoke to Eileen either.

I don’t have a clear headcanon about how Tobias died. Many people speculate that Severus killed him. I don’t think so. I don’t believe he killed his father or had him killed. I think it’s more likely that Eileen died first, shortly before or after Severus finished school. She probably died because she had neglected herself so much that her health deteriorated beyond repair. I imagine Severus stopped going to Spinner's End, and Tobias, now completely alone, spiraled out of control. Maybe he stopped going to work and was fired, and he drank himself into oblivion. Perhaps he got into a fight and took a fatal blow, or he crashed a car while drunk. I don’t know. What I imagine is that he died after Eileen and under very sordid circumstances.

Severus didn’t even bother to collect his body from the morgue.

[bwat5-blog]

Spoiler Warning for Arcane in its entirety*

An honest look at Silco

Let me start by saying Silco is a great character. The revolutionary who fell prey to “The End Justifies The Means” is a trope that rarely feels fresh or interesting these days, but Silco does. You never doubt his love for his home or for the ideal of what it could be. And like many of the characters, he starts off in the right. The oppression and abuse of the under-city is deplorable on every level. His best friend tries to kill him due to everything they go through and he is left alone, maimed and friendless. However, unlike Jinx or Caitlyn, Silco never finds his way back from the darkness he falls into and its evident in everything he does.

1. Intimidates a young street kid into being mutated by Shimmer

2. Finances the creation of Shimmer in general, experimenting on animals and people (HIS OWN PEOPLE) and flooding the under-city with it creating mutated addicts among other things

3. Uses the shimmer mutant he forced the boy to become to murder the sheriff of piltover ,who had actually tried to keep the enforcers out of the under-city so he can install his own corrupt puppet sheriff Marcus

4. Despite the fact that he promised to make a better Zaun for Felicia’s children, and that he would know who Vi and Powder are, he is completely prepared to murder them both.

5. Various gangster shit. Killing those he wishes, threatening children, all the classics

But of course, Silco’s most important role in this tale is his relationship with Powder/Jinx. The violence between Vander and Silco is tragic. We even see sadness and regret in Silco over what he believes to be Vander’s death. But it is undeniable that through the events he instigates by taking Vander he ends up becoming a “Father” to powder, and the end result is the birth of Jinx.

Silco made Jinx:

1. When Silco finds Powder, she is afraid, overcome with guilt, angry, heartbroken and hurt. Rather than take her and help her through any sort of healthy grieving, Silco weaponizes her. He speaks of revenge, “We’ll show them all”.

2. I don’t doubt Silco loves Jinx as his daughter. The issue is that Silco’s idea and concept of Love are broken. Powder needed help and support overcoming her grief and doubt regarding her role in her families deaths. Instead, she was taught to kill, to consider anyone not “us” as the enemy. “Everyone betrays us Jinx”.

3. We need only look at Jinx’s mental state after years of living with Silco to see how his raising her has changed her. She is not doing well. She is manic, aggressive, hallucinating voices and visions of her dead family, and is still overcome with guilt and self hatred.

4. Upon finding out Vi is alive, Silco immediately moves to have her killed and discredit her to Jinx. Even knowing the “daughter” he loves is buried under so much guilt and loss, he makes every attempt to deny her that catharsis.

5. During Jinx’s dinner party, Silco makes every effort to convince Jinx to murder her own sister, and to turn away from who she truly is.

Jinx tells us (the audience) in season 2 that things are much quieter in her head with Silco gone. In fact we only see him (apparition) twice. When Isha is taken, and when Isha is killed. Now of course Jinx misses him. We see this how she speaks to his chair, smells his coat, and longs for the idea of how things might have been different if Silco had found Vanders letter. But overall without him she is undeniably more at peace.

In the end, i think its fair to say that Silco created Jinx. Yes jinx tells Vi it was her, but at that moment is the same Jinx who tries to make Vi choose to have Caitlyn killed, even knowing Vi’s feelings for the enforcer. And all born out of uncontrollable jealousy and paranoia. It’s important to remember, Jinx is what was left after Powder was, in a way, destroyed. And I’m not trying to get deep on alternate personalities or anything, just keeping it basic:

1. “Powder fell down a well”- She doesn’t consider herself that person

2. “You got the name right”- She once again confirms she IS Jinx

3. Her big moment of acceptance at the end of the show, arriving at the head of the undercity forces and saving the day, is as Jinx. And thats not a bad thing. She is a changed person and the whole point is her forgiving herself, breaking the cycle, and moving forward

So with all of that considered, i say to all you “Silco was such a good daddy” folks, I disagree. He loved her the best way he knew how. He scooped that terrified little girl named Powder into his arms, and warped her until only Jinx remained.

**side note I am NOT judging anyone who loves Silco. I think he is fascinating. Just my observations. Once again to anyone bored enough to read my blathering I appreciate you*

[alinataylorsversion]

Christmas Comfort Series - Day 1 (Insecurities - Rhys)

Pairing: Rhys x Original Female Character

Summary: When you had never so much as been invited to training with your family, and the topic was never brought up around you, you had started to feel like maybe they didn't want you around, or even didn't think you could do it. This brings up old memories of failure and insecurities about not looking the same as the other girls.

Warnings - Body image issues

[2,662]

Seeing the girls making so much progress when it came to training, welcomed pleasant reactions from everyone. Nesta being happy that the priestesses were transforming at all considering their past, Cassian being proud of Nesta for how far she has come with herself, Azriel’s presence in the gym so often causing Elain to make her way up there with him, and now her progress clearly visible with the toning in her arms and such making an appearance with the flowery dresses she enjoys flaunting about in so much, and the males obviously having their own accomplishments, and never failing to show off their figures to each other... Damned Illyrians. Yet nobody has ever brought the topic up with your name in mind.

Every once in awhile you’d make your way up to the training room to watch how everyone spends their mornings, but you had never been asked to join them, they had never seemed interested in having you. As the researcher of the group, you spent most of your time at the townhouse with a pile of books; you enjoyed it that way. Although, watching your family spending so much time training, and as a result, looking much more appealing than yourself, made you feel a bit empty inside.

You never particularly liked how you looked, although this little fact was kept hidden away in the deep parts of your mind. You had always desired to be like the other females of your family; physically at least. You had watched how Feyre had gone from looking sickly thin, to being one of the most desired females of Prythian with her undeniable beauty, full arms and thighs filled with muscle, toned stomach, and full breasts. And with all the other females training as well, it didn’t take long for this to become a pattern. You’d see how they all came home after a long workout looking tired, but content with the fact that they had just accomplished a successful few hours on the mats, Looking fulfilled with their lives.

You had never been able to change the way you look. You weren’t large, by any means, but you didn’t have any astonishing features going for you. You had the weight in all the wrong places, and no visible muscle anywhere on your body. Nobody had ever said it directly, but you didn’t look like someone who spent their time with the most feared people on the continent. People never would have guessed by looking at you that you had fought through a war to protect the lands from Hybern’s army. You looked boring.

There had been times earlier in your life where you had taken a liking to physical activity and had tried to make a change in your appearance, but it had always left you feeling not good enough. You had never been able to notice a difference and ended up giving up. And now, in all the time you had been close with everyone, you had never once been invited to join them. Maybe they knew you had no potential, maybe they just didn’t care. Whatever it was, it made you feel like shit. You enjoy spending your time in cozy clothes, curled up in the townhouse with some books, but you don’t want that to be all you are.

Rhys has never mentioned any of it to you. Not the training, not the way you look, nothing. As far as he has shown, he has never even noticed anything about it all. Whether that makes you feel better or worse, you don’t know. All you do know is that you’re sick of feeling unworthy of him.

The mating bond snapped between you two around ten years after you had started working for him as the Night Court’s researcher, around the same time Feyre had left Tamlin after he had locked her up. You have now been mated for fourteen years. Twenty-four years since the war with Hybern. Rhys has never failed to beckon at your every call, jump at your request, and kneel at your every desire. He has never failed to make you feel satisfied in every aspect of your life together. You like to think you have done the same for him, which makes you wonder once again, why even he has never mentioned anything about you joining everyone in training.

Today is one of those days where you just can't seem to shake the negative thoughts out of your head. When you woke this morning, Rhys had already left to begin his duties as High Lord for the day. You had layed in bed for awhile before changing into some more appropriate clothing to leave the bedroom in compared to the little lacy things you sleep in that both of you love so much.

In a cosy brown knit sweater and matching cotton pants, you had sat down on the sofa that sits in the lounge room in front of the large window. Before you had even realised it, you'd skipped breakfast and spent hours alone with your thoughts, and the view of the streets of Velaris. Only when you heard the door open were you torn from your zoned-out state for the first time all day.

"My Love?" You hear from the other end of the hall, from none other than your mate.

"In here!" Your voice has a weak tone to it, a wince coming across your face when you realise how bad of a job you did at hiding your mood.

When he walks in, there is a clear look of concern written across his face. It is the same look that he wears whenever he can tell something is wrong. You haven't seen him look like that since you told him your cycle had started last month.

"What's wrong, Darling? Did something happen? I could feel your mood through the bond all day. When it didn't get better, I came home to check on you." He moves to sit down beside me on the sofa, readjusting my legs to lay across his lap.

My cheeks redden in shame. I can't believe I was stupid enough not to keep my side of the bond up.

"Oh. I'm okay. I'm sorry I made you come back here for nothing." I fake a small smile in hopes that he will at least somewhat believe me.

He gives me a knowing look. One that says I shouldn't even try to lie to him anymore, he will always know when I am. I sigh knowing that he won't let it go as long as he knows something is in fact going on. He always does everything in his power to help.

My voice lowers. "I don't really wanna talk about it right now. Thank you for being here to help though, Rhys. I'd just rather sit with my thoughts for awhile longer."

"Would you like me to stay with you, My love?" His hand reaches out to move a stand of hair behind my ear with a gentle finger. "We don't have to talk about what's bothering you, but sometimes it feels better to not be alone." He suggests.

My first thought is that I would love nothing more than for him to stay with me for the day. Usually I don't see him until he is back at home around dinner time. Which also makes me feel bad once again considering I made him come back home, when this was all avoidable.

"You don't have to stay, I know you have piles of work you need to get done."

He shakes his head. "None of that is as important as you, My Darling."

~~~

Rhys did end up staying home with you that day. You guys made your way upstairs to your shared bedroom before settling down for a much needed mid-day nap. That in which really shows how drained you were mentally, considering you hadn't done anything that morning to indicate that you would be tired enough to need to sleep.

When you awoke, Rhys was once again nowhere in sight.

You reach to grab your silk, Royal blue robe and wrap it tightly around your frame. Making your way downstairs, you hear shuffling around coming from the main entrance.

Peeking your head around the corner, you see Rhys coming in from what looks like a very windy Velaris.

"And where have you been, My most handsome mate?" He looks up at me in surprise, as if he hadn't expected me to awaken so soon. He comes over to stand in front of me. While I am stading on the bottom step of the stairs, he still stands a few inches taller than me. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he lifts me up off of the stairs, wrapping my legs around him.

A squeal leaves my lips at the sudden movement.

"I got you something, But I want to talk to you first." He walks us over to the lounge room, sitting down on the sofa with me seated in his lap. "About what was bothering you earlier." He looks at me with a somewhat saddened expression in his eyes at the fact that he is bringing it up again after I had told him I didn't want to talk about it.

"I don't want you to be angry with me." He begins. "Do you remember when we talked about your boundaries when it comes to my Deamati abilities?"

Just then did I realise that when I had been asleep, he had gone into my mind to understand what had been bothering me.

"You went into my head?"

"I did. But I never would have if done it if i'd known you would have been completely against it."

I lay my head down on his shoulder, feeling completely exposed in front of him, even though I never once told him anything I was thinking.

We had talked about my boundaries with his Deamati abilities when we were freshly mated. I had agreed that if he really was worried about me, and was only doing so in my best interests instead of his, he could go into my head without my knowledge. He has never done so before this.

"What did you see?" I ask with somewhat of a wince in my face, dreading his answer that is sure to come.

He places a kiss on the top of my head before pulling me back to look at him. "Many things that aren't true, My love." He uses the backs of his hands to gently push my hair behind my shoulders before continuing. "I had always thought you were perfectly content with how you spend your days here. I'm sorry for not realising that you aren't." He cups both of my checks in his hands.

"If you are wanting to join us for any reason whatsoever, you are always welcome to. They had never brought it up to you because I have always told them that you were happy with staying here cuddled up with your books. It was my fault you felt like they didn't want you there, and I am truly sorry, My love, for not getting the hint that you weren't."

Liquid starts to pool in my eyes at the fact that he thinks my feelings are his fault. "It's not your fault Rhys, I had never brought it up to you, there is no way you could have known I was not happy."

"My Darling, you think so terribly of yourself, it is my duty as your mate to make you the happiest in all aspects of your life." His voice starts to tremble slightly. "You are so beautiful. You have no need to compare yourself to the others in any way. You are my gods given solace, My beautiful Mate. And if you want to be able to adjust something about yourself in order to help you love what you see in the mirror, I am right there with you. If you are perfectly happy with how you appear as of now, I am just as happy, My love. All I want is for you to admire yourself as much as I do when I look at you."

Tears had started to fall from my eyes sometime during his words. I would never be able to repay him for all he does for me. I just wish I could look at myself and see what he does. "I just feel so unworthy of you all. I've never been able to change anything about my appearance no matter how hard I try. I guess in some way, I was hoping it would never be brought up, that way I wouldn't have to face the shame of not being good enough when I try in front of you all." My voice breaks after almost every word, and I try to move my head to the side so that Rhys doesn't see me cry.

His finger underneath my jaw pulls my head back to look at him. "You have fought time after time, in some of the most gruesome and unimaginable situations that even an immortal can't begin to think of. You will never be seen as a failure. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met in all of my 500 years on this gods forsaken land. I love you so much."

I immediately wrap my arms around him, burying my face into the side of his neck. I don't know what I ever did to deserve the man sitting underneath me right now.

"Don't cry, My love." He stands up with my legs still tightly wrapped around his waist. "Look what I got you." He pulls out a bag from beside the couch and I unwrap my arms from around his neck, wiping my tears from my checks before I look at what he is handing me.

He sits us back down and I go to open the bag.

"These are the same illyrian leathers that Feyre bought when she first started training, the ones you had always told her you loved." When he pulled them out of the bag, my jaw dropped. They were the exact same ones I had always stared at when I saw her in them. They were beautiful. Black leather with very subtle purple accents to them.

"How did you find the same ones?" You're absolutely speechless at the fact that he had remembered how much you loved them.

"I was the one that gave them to her. I know the designer personally. These are actually the same ones the Feyre wore, she had just managed to adjust them so they would fit you. And of course she patched up all the holes that were left in them." He explaned. "Come to training with me tomorrow, I'll let Cassian and Nesta know that we'll need to go easy since it's your first day. Unless you would rather not do the Valkyrie training, we can just do some basic workouts if you'd like."

"I love you, Rhys." I place the lethers down beside me, adjusting my full attention onto him. "Thank you for always doing whatever you can to make me happy."

He leans down, bringing his lips to mine. My arms find their home around his neck, as his wrap around my waist once again. We sit there in each other's arms for the cauldron knows how long.

The next day I was welcomed to training with open arms. Nesta had told me about how much she had put up a fight when Cassian had been trying to get her to start training. She was happy I was there, as were Feyre and Elain. I had soon got over my fear of not being welcomed there. And Rhys had apparently adopted the mindset of needing to prove to me just how much he loves the way I look, Every Single Night.... and morning.

[shana-reviews-tmblr]

"They take turns"

no they don't. Stolas has been the one to only be there for Via as shown in Loo Loo Land when Stella told him to go look after her when she cried out. this heavily implies that Stolas has always been the one to do this.

The show also made it very clear when Stolas called out Stella that he "endured her insults and cruelty" was all so Via could have a normal family, he did not want her to think I'll of her mother or for them to be fighting, so rather than created an aggressive atmosphere where he and Stella are fighting or worse put Via through seeing her parents divorce at a young age, he endured everything FOR HER.

and news flash, this is something that does happen in real life, MANY parents endure abusive relationships for the sake of their kids.

My own dad endured a lot from my mom both before and after, so I know what the series is doing with Stolas and why Stella is the horrible parent that she is

Stolas DOES NOT have a good role model to draw influence from when it comes to parenting that man is trying to learn as he goes, is he perfect? NO is he a good dad? for the most part YES

In fact he's about as good of a parent as Goku, he loves his kids, he just does not know how to handle things properly.

but compared to Stella, he is WAY better and at the very least Stolas did not want to turn Via against her mom or expose her at her age to how evil her mom is

which again is something my own dad did for me for 2 reasons

so that when he finally did tell me about her i would be 18 at that point, an adult who can make my own decisions, and i would have spent enough time with her because she did get visitation rights, so the time i spent with her, unhindered by anything my dad says about her, will allow me to match up with whatever my father told me when i turned 18 so i can see what is the truth or what is a lie

he didn't want me to grow up hating my mother or for my view of her to be tainted by what he suffered because of her and while i will not go into detail she did some messed up things that were cruel and affected my dad's relationship with my sister until she became an adult.

No one is saying Stolas is a perfect parent, but he deserves the title of Parent FAR MORE than Stella who will twist the truth about Stolas to her and make her hate him, no different than what my mom did to sperate my sister from my dad just because she hated him.

so please DO NOT spread misinfo regarding this situation or try to turn hatred to a character who doesn't deserve it all to clean up or make it seem like Stella isn't "as bad as people make her out to be"

she is cruel, vindictive, abusive, and a manipulator

she isn't smart, but she is not a mother or even a good person.

If Stella is what you call "A bad mother" then I reckon Stolas wouldn't be that stupid enough to let her take care of Octavia. It's confirmed that they each take turns taking care of her. If Stolas let Stella take care of Octavia knowing that Stella is a bad mother, how does that make him any better as a father?

Not saying Stella made the right choices as a mother either, but people wanna act like she doesn't love Octavia at all when really she does love her. The only reason why she'd be grinning like this is because she was getting exactly what she wished for; the downfall for Stolas.

[jellyskink]

A fish out of water. (Idk I wanted to make the title reference Stan's Cipher Zodiac symbol but I couldn't think of a witty way how. Is it even a fish?? Idk I see a fish lol.)

("Wherever we go, we go together alright bro?")

Light filled the room as Stan flipped the lightswitch to his condo. Soft white light filled the room, a mixture of trash and trinkets littered the room in front him.

(Right... I forgot I've been needin' to take care of that. Eh I'll get to it tomorrow. The twins won't be back here until a couple of days.)

Reaching up to scratch his chin, a sharp pain registered as his hand scratched his chin and lower lip.

(OW Ffff-french toast... Figures I'd forget about the number that guy did on the old kisser.)

Earlier that day another jerk had mistaken him for his twin. The usual routine, of course he made sure to return the favor with interest though. There's no way that guy would be seein' anything with his left eye for a good while after the mark he left on it.

(Welp, better get to trying to fix this up. Mabel and Ford'll definitely worry even more than usual if this gets infected.)

Saying that, the old man shuffled over to his bathroom, dodging the miscellaneous items that covered the floor.

(Aight let's get this over with...)

The bathroom was a little disorganized, but everything was more or less the same as it usually was. Still, it was a bit of an adjustment to get used to having Mabel (and to an extent Dipper's) stuff in the sink cabinet along with his own.

Searching through the wave of clutter in the cabinet, Stan eventually found the peroxide he was searching for, to his dismay he did find he was out of normal band-aids, so he was forced to use the box of band-aids covered with designs of puppies, kittens, and narwhals.

(Really hope Mabel doesn't mind I'm usin' one of her band-aids...)

Stan knew she wouldn't, heck she'd insist he use them, but Stan couldn't help but feel at least a little bit guilty for needing to ask for handouts from her, a kid.

Cleaning up the wound was about as fun as it could be, but it wasn't the worst. God knows he's had to clean up way worse.

After quickly slapping a kitten band-aid with the words "Paw-Sum Dude!" onto his wound, he found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror.

(Geez, I guess I'll never escape bein' pointdexter's shadow sometimes huh?)

It was to be expected with being a twin right? Especially if one was more famous than the other.

Although these days that "popularity" was more negative than positive.

(At least it wasn't the dog treats n' cat biscuits thing this time. I HATE when they do that.)

Geez what would Pa think with how they turned out, what would MA think?

Times like these he really wished he could literally beat some sense into people. If he could only make people understand Ford like he did, or at least, like he THOUGHT he did.

(Shoot, he started thinking like this again.)

Like a slideshow in science class, bits and pieces of memories of his youth flashed by in a blink of an eye.

Fond memories of their times on the beach, their first day of school, to the awkward start of learning to box.

To the less wonderful times, the fights between their parents or the family in general, times the two got hurt defending themselves from bullies, to all of the times the two fought.

...

"This was no accident, Stan; you did this! You did this because you couldn't handle me going to college on my own!"

(Crap, I'm dwellin' on this again? Why? It's been years since that dumb mistake!)

And yet it wasn't just a dumb mistake was it? It was THE dumb mistake. The one that cost Ford his dream college, the one that ruined their relationship for so many years, the one one that got Stanley kicked out onto the streets by their Father and was forced to survive all those years on his own.

(If only I had manned up and had told the truth about that dumb machine earlier, we probably could've fixed it. I could've prevented all of the junk that I caused to the family, I probably could've PREVENTED Ford from ever getting involved with that dumb triangle!)

But... was their any truth to that? In a perfect world where Stan didn't screw up once again, could he confidently say things would've been better?

(Why didn't he say anything that day? Why didn't he stand up against Pa that day? Did I screw up so much he hated me that much?)

The funniest part about that was he could'nt even ask Ford about it. If he did, Ford got this distant look on his face while havin' a 50/50 shot of either spacing out for a good while or freakin' out for what felt like AGES.

Stan began to feel a tight feeling in his chest, his throat starting to close as it started to become harder to breathe.

The very same man who had carried so much pride in himself and his work, that he was willing to leave Stan out to dry when Stan had screwed up his chances at getting into his dream school, was now a shell of his former self.

(You threw everything away for... for... some dumb triangle with an eye! Your self respect, your family, you gave it all up for what??)

Tears began to flow down Stanley's cheeks.

(Damnit, I shouldn't be crying. A man ain't supposed to cry over something as small as this!)

As Stan tried his best to try and rebottle his emotions again, something caught his eye as he looked out in front of him.

It was Ford. His spitting image stared back at him, looking just as upset as he was while wearing the same things as he did.

His previous sadness soon began to blossom into rage as Stan found himself grabbing the baseball bat he kept in the bathroom for emergencies.

"Y-YOU JUST HAD TO HAVE EVERYTHING DIDN'T YOU!"

*Crack*

"AND STILL YA GAVE UP EVERYTHING TA BE WITH SOMETHIN' THAT DOESN'T TREAT YA BETTER THAN A STRAY DOG!!"

*Shatter*

"I-I"

The words "Hate you" hung on the edge of this tongue. He wanted to say those words so BADLY. Wanted to believe em' too. And yet he couldn't.

The mirror in front of him was shattered beyond repair, pieces of it still hanging onto it's frame as the rest collected into the sink below it.

From those pieces, Stan was able to see the ball of anger that stood in front of him. Ford's reflection wasn't there anymore, it was him again, yet with the way he looked in the mirror, he also saw his Father's stern look staring back at him, his rage filled eyes reflecting back at him in the triangular piece of mirror that stubbornly held on to the mirror's frame despite what a majority of the other pieces did by just breaking off from it.

("All you ever do is lie and cheat, and ride on your brother's coattails.")

*Clunk*

The bat fell to the ground as Stan felt himself fall to his knees, tears flowing even stronger as he found his body doing the opposite of what his mind told it to do.

A bloodcurdling roar filled the night, similar to a hurt angry bear, the sound afterwards followed by sobs.

Stan would eventually get to collecting himself enough to clean up the mess in the bathroom, afterwards falling asleep at his armchair with the tv on as whitenoise. The framed pictures of his family watching over him as his only companions that night.

It was going to be "fun" to think up a lie to tell the neighbors the next day about the noise coming from his condo, but he was too exhausted to worry about that right now. Right now, he just wanted to sleep, hoping the cravings for certain substances would leave in the morning, he made so much progress for the twins already, he didn't want to lose all of it due to some "hysterical episode" of his.

Of course, when Mabel and Dipper called the next morning they'd be none the wiser of what ailed their Great Uncle, he'd be matching their excited energy as they told them what mischief they've gotten into lately.

Ford would still be none the wiser as he embraced his brother when they metup that afternoon, although he would find it strange Stanley had trouble looking him in the eye that day, although he'd be quickly brushed off when he'd ask Stan if anything was wrong and if he and his Muse could help with anything.

Stanley was going to make sure that nobody was going to see or know the fragile side to him.

Nobody was going to know that "Stanley Screwup Pines" was struggling with personal issue.

If luck wasn't on your side you kept trying until it was, even if you had to cheat your way to winning.

You didn't just accept defeat when you're knocked down.

If there was something wrong with a performance you just continued onwards, winging it and acting like nothing was wrong because the show must go on.

He wasn't ever going to cry in front of anyone.

Cause especially if he cried,

SHE would cry along with him.

And he wasn't ever going to let that happen as long as his lived.

In a way you could say this was the greatest con Stanley Pines ever did.

Convincing everyone, even himself, that he was infact, fine.

(HEY BESTIES! I totally lost some sleep writing this but after seeing the latest post my Jellyskink about Stan I knew I had to try writing some fanfiction for Stan!

The 14 year old girl that possessed me is happy to say it was fun to try writing more angsty fanfiction, especially since that's a specialty for the Gravity Falls Fandom when it isn't being silly or comforting lol.

I hope this turned out decently! As I writing this I was thinking of two Marina songs to recommend but I couldn't decide on one so I thought I'd share both of them.

"The Family Jewels"

"Teen Idle"

Both by Marina.

I hope I kinda captured Stan's essence! I always kinda thought he gave off the "Bruiser with a soft side" trope and stuff!

He's so bbg, I hope everyone enjoys the very girlypop and slaytastic fanfic I wrote for him! Geez I'm having too much fun talking like this lmao!)

THIS IS SO SADDD I LOVE IT 💔💔💔 POOR STAN!!!

(Pictured above: Ford's obliviousness has only gotten worse in his isolation from other humans)

(Also pictured above: the young twins are currently holding the family brain cells)

[mercurialmalcontent]

I keep turning the events of Tearstone Island going into the Fade sequence over in my head. They're so good, and going in completely unspoiled (and thus un-influenced) with a character who I'd come with with a distinct personality for really enhanced the experience.

Mimir is a person not given to having regrets. He acts with deliberation in almost all things, so when he makes a difficult decision it's after having considered the potential ramifications and what burdens he's willing to live with, should it turn out he chose poorly after all. This attitude was sorely tested after he chose to go to Minrathous to repel their dragon attack rather than Treviso (especially once he learned the Venatori were still able to infiltrate the Archon's palace). The blight that infected the city killed so many innocents and shut Lucanis away from him. It was unfair for the residents to blame him for not being able to be in two places at once, but he couldn't blame them for that, not in the aftermath of an apocalyptic disaster.

It would have been easy to wallow in regret but he set his mind on restitution, as much as he could give.

Tearstone, though… Mimir chose Davrin to lead the second strike team, having every faith that he could lead the others through the blighted areas safely. He asked Bellara to clear their way through the magic gate; despite her continued uncertainity in her skills, Mimir had seen her come through time and time again, and Neve's proposal seemed way too risky.

Bellara and Davrin were like siblings to Mimir, the family he'd never had. Bellara made him smile and made him think and he was immediately ready to give her backup when other people didn't want to take her seriously. Davrin he wasn't sure he'd get along with until it turned out they were on the exact same wavelength (game-wise, I got so much approval his bond level was much higher than anyone else's for most of the game). It was like turning a corner and coming face-to-face with a twin he'd never dreamed he had. Emmerich was Mimir's best friend, but Davrin was his brother in every way except blood.

Then his faith in Bellara lost her, snatched away to who knows where. There was no time to think, no time to do anything but act and ignore the clench of his heart, no time to do anything but fight and fight and fight and not panic that she's not there to be freed. The team battered that tentacled horror's defenses and Davrin distracted her so Lucanis could take his shot-- and then he was gone, ripped apart and dragged into the abyss with Assan screaming after him. That scream rang unending in Mimir's ears as he struggled his way to the dagger before it could rip reality apart -- or was he the one screaming?

Then Solas's inevitable betrayal hit and oh, man. Even though Mimir didn't trust him -- even though I knew better than to trust him -- there was still a crumb of hope that, maybe, maybe he'd work together with us. But no, he claimed Mimir wasn't ready for leadership until he molded him that way, molded him to take his place in that miserable Fade prison. So arrogant, almost mocking! That bleak moment I felt the outrage, fury, despair, and yes, regret that I'd been set up to feel, and it was incredible!

Small wonder it took weeks to get him out of there -- even stalwart Mimir struggled desperately after all of that, asking himself what he missed, what he could have done to save Bellara and Davrin, as I was asking myself that. (I know now that there is no right choice there; it's a moment of sometimes you do your best and still fail.) But the personality he has that I stuck with throughout the game turned out to have been a perfect choice, as the specter of Varric echoed so many of the qualities I'd created Mimir to have.

He's not like Solas. Solas didn't mold shit. When Mimir told Solas he'd do whatever it takes, he meant "whatever the personal cost to myself"; it was Solas's own self-absorbed baggage that he understood it as "whatever the cost to other people."

I'm reminded of the Dark Knight questline in FFXIV, specifically the lv. 70 capstone quest, when Fray -- or rather, Esteem, the Warrior of Light's shadow self -- says, "I've sins aplenty, aye, but regrets? Not so much."

That's Mimir. Whatever his mistakes, whatever his sins, he endeavors to live without regrets -- which means approaching life with a clear head and no excuses for himself.

One more relevant quote from that questline:

Fray: Such is our lot. Such is the fate of all who are born ─- to suffer and to die. Do not seek forgiveness, for it will not ease the burden. It weighs as it should. Myste: But what of the lost? Do they not deserve to live again? Rielle: They do. In our hearts and our souls and our memories. No one likes having to say good-bye. But it's… it's a part of life. That's what makes the time we share together so precious… You can't obsess over the mistakes of the past, or you'll lose sight of the future. Of the people still with us, who need us more than ever.

[bitegore]

ngl i think i kind of was a genius for being like 'yeah this character is a scary killyou cannibal scary killer who scary kills you' and then realizing that the way my worldbuilding works out is that there's a nonzero chance that if you leave literally any body parts over they can just come back, depending on what they believe in their heart of hearts can kill them. Of course she'd start eating her kills. She probably tried normal stuff first and then realized it didn't work and she had to try harder if she wanted to actually keep them dead.

[superiorsturgeon]

out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

[mynameisbillandimaheadcase]

..

[clownzaf]

No one in the family understands the connection between Tim and Talia, not even Damian.

Talia would be in Gotham to visit Damian and will fight and disagree with every movement of Tim’s like a disappointed mother, but the moment Tim get distressed or even a little bit upset Talia will be tripping onto herself to be with the boy.

They think Talia adopted the boy like she did with Jason.

They absolutely don’t know that Tim has long ago accepted Ra’s invitations for dinner, (even if it’s only to ensure the safety of his family and friends from the league of assassins) and Ra’s has long ago since pseudo-adopted Tim. He will call to ask about his day, and give shovel talks to his partners via assassins, and just simply drop to his apartment to watch a movie.

He is still trying to get Tim as his heir but eventually decided to drop the ball (for now). He kept Tim tho, at this point he simply grew fond of the boy.

One time Tim spent a entire week training with the league—It was a plan of Ra’s to make him see what he could have if he joined him and Tim agreed only for the extra training and maybe he could get some extra intel just in case— and in that week he became friends with Talia. They were practically siblings right now and it was useful for both parties. Tim would tell Talia all about Damian, even the specific details (Like his favorite breakfast food, one thing in particular he gained interest recently or if he made any new friends in school) and Talia would train him to the best of his capabilities. It also made “Family dinners” a lot less awkward. He has come to be quite fond of Ra’s over the time but sometimes it was better to have someone a little bit younger to talk to and not just the 6000 years old man.

So, now every time Talia drops to the manor to say hi—Knowing things about Damian or the family that she shouldn’t know— she always ends up in a corner watching TikTok’s in Tim’s phone and petting his hair like it’s something that happens everyday.

Damian and Jason were furious about this, it was THEIR mom/mentor and it was unfair for Tim to take that away like everything else in their life.

But they don’t suspect anything else until one day they are invited to have a formal dinner with the Al Ghul’s, just to find Timothy Drake-Wayne (Al Ghul) already in the table dressed in a green silk robe with golden accents chatting with the ninjas in the walls like they are good friends and kicking Ra’s down the table.

It was in fact the most uncomfortable dinner ever, even more so because Tim refused to give them more information about any of this more than a “I’m still in the good side don’t worry”

[mv1simp]

Based on darling 🍑 🛒 anon’s request: max x inexperienced best friend!reader who hears him complaining about how hard it is to find a girl who’ll match his freak in bed 😼

Birthday Sex ♥️

Max Verstappen x Best Friend!Reader

don’t need candles or cake, just need your body to make (birthday sex, it’s the best day of the year, girl)

As Max’s best friend since childhood, you know him better than anyone. You’re determined to find the best birthday gift after he’s outdone you the past three years. Just when you’ve given up all hope of beating him you overhear him complaining that none of his recent girlfriends let him hit it just the way he likes. Bingo - you’ve just thought of the perfect gift!

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom!max, inexperienced best friend!reader who gets railed lol, size kink, anal, creampie, sloppy drunk sex!!, WC 3.3k

You slump your head down on the table and groan, making your best friend Selena quirk as brow at you as she sips her strawberry iced matcha. Across the room, the elderly librarian scowls and points to the sign clearly labelled “University Library - Quiet Zone for Finals Study”. You roll your eyes and drag Selena away to some dusty bookshelf’s well away from the old crone. You still haven’t found a present for Max? Your friend muses as she noisily slurps her drink, eyeing the dubious titles on the ancient books. Shaking your head, you whine about how you’ve spent weeks thinking of what to gift the F1 driver. You and Max have been best friends since childhood, having grown up literally 2 doors down from one another. After getting over the initial boy/girl germs phase, you’d both connected over a like for video games which had turned into a loyal and supportive friendship into teens and adulthood. And of course, you both strongly believed in work hard, play hard, and frequently would be seen doing multiple shots together out in the Monaco clubs after a race weekend or post exam season.

Despite all the time you’d spend together, things had never crossed the line past friendship. It was always heavily speculated in the media, of course, as well as constant teasing from the other paddock members and your friends and family, but both you and Max dismissed it. He treated you like one of his guy friends, inviting you over to game or come onto his private jet with his other mates to fly out for a race weekend. And of course, being good friends with a millionaire driver meant being spoilt, especially on your birthday. Max always picked up on your hints and outdid himself every year. Last birthday you’d had not one but two custom made jewellery sets delivered from Cartier when you’d mentioned them in passing, and the year before that unlimited VIP box seats to your favourite soccer team and access to his private jet to get you there.

So that’s why you’re desperate to find Max the perfect present for his birthday this year. You want to spoil him just like he spoils you! But he’s been busy with his new girlfriend, a Spanish model he met in St Tropez, and you in the final semester of your English Lit degree and you haven’t had a chance to hear what’s he’s been interested in lately.

You’ve thought up countless ideas, but what do you get a man who literally can afford anything he wants? You’ve cycled through all of his likes, finding that he already owns everything you could possibly buy. Your friend Serena is useless as she watches you plead up at the ceiling (dramatic, sure, but desperate times call for desperate measures) asking for any Gods watching above to send you a sign of the right gift. You could always just get him a vibrator, she joked as she slurped her iced coffee. You know, like the one I got you? Have you been using it? Seriously, we need to end this dry spell and get you dicked down- At that point the old crone of a librarian had let out a scandalised gasp as she overheard and kicked the pair of you out.

You’ve almost given up completely and drop by his apartment a few days before his birthday, ready to just directly beg him to tell you what he wants and put you out of your misery. You let yourself in, already familiar with his spare key hiding location for years. And then you stumble across a conversation that’s not meant for your ears as Max’s deep voice carries around the corner. He’s on video chat with one of his mates playing an e-sim racing game, but they’re definitely not talking about racing strategy.

I don’t know mate, why is it so hard these days to find a chick who’ll let you hit it raw? one of his friends complain over the speakers. Your eyes widen, hand rushing up to stifle your gasp as you realise they’re talking about what they like in the bedroom. You and Max had never talked about something like this, and you’re about to turn and leave - when your best friend says something you’d never expected him to say. He snorts, murmuring that sure, getting to finish inside was good but the real challenge was convincing a girl to let you fuck her up the ass.

His friend laughs on the screen, wholeheartedly agreeing, saying Ah, I see even a F1 driver can’t find a girlfriend who’s into that freaky shit, huh? You miss Max’s reply because his cats, Sassy and Jimmy, have started to walk over to you curiously. You hightail it out of his apartment, desperate not to get caught eavesdropping with your blushing face and jumbled thoughts. You only let yourself calm down once you’re in the safety of your much smaller apartment, sinking into your sofa and recounting what you’d heard. You and Max had never ever talked about sex, even though he treated you like his guy friends, that was a line you’d just never crossed. You’d never have guessed he was into something so naughty like not using protection or…what had he said? Up the ass?

You’re not 100% sure on what he means, with your rather…limited sexual experiences. While Max regularly slept with multiple different flings and models, your hook ups could be counted on one hand. You’d lost your virginity, of course, to an awkward college boyfriend that Max had hated and eventually told you to break up with. But apart from a few sloppy handjobs or quick drunk blowjobs, you really hadn’t explored much else. You were jealous of how much more experienced Max was than you, having sometimes overheard him and his latest girlfriend celebrating a race win from a neighbouring hotel room. But it looked like despite all of the girls he’d been with, he wasn’t getting the satisfaction he wanted in bed. And apparently what satisfied the Dutch Lion was fucking girls who let him take the condom off or use their ass to his liking.

Determined to find out more about what exactly Max wanted, you open the private browser of your laptop and type in a porn site you’d looked at a couple times before. You navigate to the tags, scrolling until you see the category you wanted to research. As you wait for the top trending video in the #Anal section to load you bite your lip, suddenly nervous. Why did Max say he wanted that? It sounded dirty and painful and just wrong. Was there something you were missing?

Then the video started playing and within seconds you’d lost any inhibitions you had. Hypnotised, you watch the screen where a small, tan skinned girl is face down and ass up, with a much larger man running his tongue obscenely through her asscheeks. She’s moaning wantonly, clearly enjoying it, and then his sizeable dick is bouncing out against her bum, messily pounding her pussy first, and then - and then-

Your doe eyes widen, fixed on the laptop with a gasp as his tip slides past her pussy and into her other hole, the one you hadn’t even known could fit a guy’s dick inside it! You’re enraptured, not wanting to blink as you watch her asshole get completely ruined. Your lace thong is rapidly soaked by your wetness as you start panting, finding yourself turned on in a way you’d never ever been before. This is what your Maxie liked? It was so hot, you think sluttily, shamelessly slipping your tiny manicured fingers into your panties to finger yourself at the forbidden thought of you and Max acting out the activities in the video. You cum far too quickly, head tossed back in pleasure. Afterwards, you know you should feel embarrassed and guilty, but instead all you can think about is how badly you want to try having sex with your other tight hole.

And you know exactly what to gift your best friend. Max deserves to get exactly what he wants, after all.

Soon you’re watching dirty video after video every night, telling yourself you need to practise the positions and expressions yourself. But really you’re just addicted to the moaning of girls getting their asses abused by huge cocks, or having the coy smirks wiped off their faces and instead rolling their eyes back as their pussies are pumped full of cum. The bullet vibrator Serena had gifted you as a joke now finds itself making its way in between your dripping thighs, as you cum nightly to the fantasy of being able to provide Max with that pleasure. If his latest girlfriend of the month wasn’t willing to put out for him, you certainly had no problem helping your best friend out instead.

You make sure you’re ready by the time his birthday party rolls around, being celebrated in style aboard his yacht that’s docked in Ibiza tonight. You’ve chosen your outfit carefully, a tight red minidress that shows off your plump ass and tits, complete with strappy high heels. It highlights your ample curves, very different from his usual fling’s stick thin figures. And speaking off - you knew that he must have broken it off with his latest girlfriend judging by the fact that she wasn’t here tonight. Your suspicions are confirmed when a mutual friend tells you he dumped her just two days ago, citing a difference in personalities. More like a difference in kinky preferences, you thought deviously. You just needed to confirm that Max was willing to cross the line of no return in your friendship. Judging from the way his gaze had turned dark and hungry when he’d seen you step onto his boat, roaming over your figure, you were pretty confident that you’d be able to proceed in unveiling your gift.

As the party continues well into the night, you join everyone in dancing and drinking, using the tequila shots as an excuse to why you’re suddenly grinding your fat ass back into Max’s crotch amidst the crowded makeshift dancefloor. When you hear Max laugh in delight, strong hands possessively curling around your hips to keep you against him, you know he wanted you, too.

So when the last of the partygoers are heading off the yacht to join the others in the Ibiza clubs, you take Max’s hand in yours to tug him away, back onto the other side of the yacht where you’re well away from anyone’s eyes and facing the night ocean. He willingly goes, checking out your curvy ass from behind, his own face flushed from the drinks he’d had. You’re tipsily giggling that he had to open your present! as you gently push him onto the outdoor couch, plucking your cutely wrapped small gift box and offering it to him. As he opens it, you eagerly sit down by his side, pressing in close to his warm, toned chest with the excuse of its cold, Maxie.

You don’t miss how his gaze drops to your plush tits, which bounce with every movement and show off your hardened nipples as you’d chosen to only wear a skimpy lace bralette underneath. He easily plays along with your excuse, wrapping his thick arm around you to pull you onto his lap and settle against his broad figure. You giggle again when he finally opens the gift box, only to find it…empty? He looks up at you, laughing as he assumed you’d forgotten to pack your present in your drunk antics tonight.

But the plan in your mind is razor sharp as you breathily press kisses to his stubbled cheeks, making his lustful gaze flicker to your lips as the tension between you two grows. You whisper that you hadn’t forgotten, in fact, you’d gotten him the perfect gift, exactly what he’d been complaining to his gaming friends about not being able to find. The present was just inside you, was all!

Max is still adorably confused, not entirely sure what you were referring to as you slide off his lap after pressing a barely there kiss to his lips. He watches you curiously as you press your blushing cheeks into the sofa and stick your thick ass up in the air. Your already tiny minidress slides down your hips, exposing your soaked, lacey thong that barely covered the true surprise - a cute heart shaped butt plug. Max’s jaw drops and for a minute he thinks he must be dreaming, or had gotten super drunk, or this was some sick joke his friends had set him up for. Until you seductively jiggle your hips at him, fat ass bouncing, your sweet voice almost innocently asking if he likes his gift?

Oh, I fucking love it, sweetheart he assures you with a wicked grin, once he realises just what you were giving him. It’s so much better than anything I could have asked for. Your pleased giggle quickly turns into pleased moans as he plays with the toy, teasing you by slowly pulling it out a bit before sliding it back in. He pulls his raging erection out of his pants, telling you to come here and suck me off, getting his cock ready to fuck you. You obediently lick up and down his length, covering it with your messy drool and lip gloss, making sure it’s as wet as possible. His muscular neck is thrown back against the sofa as he moans above you, a strong hand tangled through your curls as he tries to control the pace but can't resist your talented mouth teasing his over sensitive tip. He almost cums from your enthusiasm, hips stuttering and he swears in dutch as he has to forcefully pull on your dark locks to move your plush lips off him. You cheekily grin up at him, winking, asking was that too much for him?

He tosses you around in half a second, making you giggle into the soft pillow as he raises your ass into the air, growling that he’d have done this a long time ago if he knew what a needy slut you secretly were. You shake your hips enticingly at him, ass bouncing, enjoying how his sexy voice got even deeper and accented when he was dirty talking. Swearing at your tempting display, he delivers a strong smack to your cheeks, and then a second one for good measure, before nudging his cockhead up against your dripping slit. He hushes your whines, telling you that he needed to get a taste of your pussy, the one he’d been dreaming about when you’d stay the night after a late movie and rub your ass into his erection in your sleep, edging him for hours. Did you even know how many times he had to go jerk off to the mental image of your ass in the shower?

You moan in pleasure as he fucks you sloppily, whispering about the time he hadn’t been able to resist and pulled your panties down in your sleep, wanting to jerk off to the real thing and leaving his cum all over your caramel skin. Th-that’s soo hot, Maxie you whine, already feeling fucked out of your mind. Go-go on, cum instead me, you say breathlessly. I started the pill just for your present tonight!

Groaning at your naughty confession, he pumps one last, deep thrust before he's tensing above you, a bruising grip on your hips as he holds you still to drain his load deep inside you. He's panting deeply as his head comes to rest on the back of your neck, the two of you enjoying your blissful comedown together for a few minutes. You can’t believe how heated things have gotten tonight after being friends for years. We could have been hooking up this whole time, it was so good Maxiee you whine against his lips as he presses his tongue into your pouting mouth.

Chuckling at your eagerness, he filthily whispers that you could start by giving him the next part of his birthday gift, hmm? You nod breathlessly, unable to say no to your precious Maxie. He palms your juicy asscheeks with his large palms, squeezing at your flesh greedily. Soon enough he’s fingering your tight, winking hole from above you, telling you to hold your asscheeks apart for him as he messily spits right over where he plans to fuck you. Just the tip, right, Maxie? You repeat again, feeling unsettled with not knowing what he was doing behind you, when he stopped to stare at your cute little hole for a few minutes. Your blushing face is still buried into the cushions as your nails dig into your bouncing ass and hold it apart for him. I've never had anything...inside there before, you say, cheeks warming. So you can't stretch it out, okay, I read that it-

Yeah, yeah baby Max says distractedly, hypnotised by your inviting tight hole that is filling him with a growing desire to ruin it every passing second. Whatever you say. Dousing himself in lube from the supply he keeps stashed in between the couch cushions, he approaches you from behind, his erect cock standing stiff as you jiggle your hips. His tip nudges against your back entrance, making you moan excitedly at foreign but tingly feeling. Then he’s thrusting his leaking cockhead in and out of your hole, and you’re babbling incoherently, your face turned to the side as you gasp mouthfuls of air. Oh, it feels sooo good, mmhhh, yes Maxie-

He growls approvingly at your desperate whining, smacking your red asscheeks again and again to make them bounce. Feels amazing, right baby? he hums into your ear, pressing his abs down against your back. The new position makes his cock accidentally slide in just a little more and you arch your back more when the tingly feeling gets stronger as he slips a large hand around to toy with your sensitive clit. You’ll let me put in just a little bit more, right baby? Max whispers huskily, his hungry eyes taking in your drooling, fucked out face. You were in so much bliss he doubts you’d be able to say no to anything he asked for. O-ok, a little bit more- Ohh! Oh fuck!

You cry out as he doesn’t hesitate to slip inside you even further. It’s a good thing you can’t see the filthy mess behind you because Max has bullied an easy third of his rigid, veiny shaft inside your gummy walls. He groans against the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he praises how good you take his fat cock, better than any of his girlfriends. He knows just what to say to have you seeing stars as he continues to shove more and more of himself into your tight hole. Fuck schat, giving me the best birthday treat ever, I’m gonna be addicted.

You’re on Cloud 9-, pink tongue poking out of your mouth and drooling all over the cushion, pretty doe eyes rolled all the way back as Max pounds into your all too willing body. You can barely reply coherently when he croons that he’s just gonna slide a bit more in, that’s right, just like that, you can take it for him, right?

His whole cock is buried inside your ass now, beads of sweat running own his toned abs. And soon you’re screaming his name as he greedily fucks you, grunting with pleasure at each thrust. You can only cross your fingers and hope none of your friends come back from the club early.

—————————————————————————

A/N: back to my old FILTHY ways after writing a 9.5K mafia fic just to give u all whiplash will finally be posting part 2 of earned it v soon with dedicated hot husband max hehehe 😝

[zyhkoo]

☆ don’t blame me

jealous batboys x f!reader

requested by anon

Dick

As his partner, it was expected for him to cling around you. No matter where you went, he was there. Your apartment, the supermarket, outside your work area- anywhere really. He doesn’t mind if you get along with his friends and family, he’s very happy that you get along with them. But if Dick sees someone he doesn’t know, smiling and spending time with you. That’s when he gets jealous.

Today, he went on his usual routine by fetching you from work but then he spots you with a man he doesn’t know.. Dick leans towards you, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to his body as he interrupts the conversation. You raised your brow at the sudden gesture but he ignores you.

Dick glances at the man that you have been talking to, narrowing his eyes slightly. He doesn’t say anything to the man, for now. Instead, he glances down at you, a small smile on his face. “Hi, babe.”

“Dick this is-“ he immediately cuts you off “Uh, huh.” He nods, completely ignoring the man as he keeps his gaze fixed on you. “I was just looking for you.” He pulls you even closer to his side. “I missed you.” He murmurs, his hand on the side of your waist, gently massaging your hip.

You looked at him skeptically “You just saw me an hour ago?” you crossed your arms. He tilted his head. “And?” A slight pout formed on his face. “Can’t I miss my girlfriend?”

The man in front of you two chuckled “Well, my name is Romhelle, I was her former classmate back in high school.” he explained. That made him immediately stop pouting. His eyes darted towards Romhelle, silently sizing him up. His grip around your waist tightens ever so slightly.

“Oh? You two go way back then, huh?” He tried to sound as casual as he could, but clearly, there was a hint of jealousy in his voice. “Not so.” Romhelle replied “We weren’t that close.” he added. You glared at Dick “See? You don’t have anything to worry about.”

He chuckled quietly, glancing down at you before his gaze returned to Romhelle. “Oh, I’m not worried. I know she’s mine,” His hand moved from your hip, and to your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. After bantering with the guy, he immediately got along with him. He was laughing, talking with him like they were best friends and as if he wasn’t jealous a moment ago. You only stood there absolutely baffled.

Jason

Jason doesn’t like sharing unless it's with you. Stephanie asking if he could share the cookies he bought? Nope, it’s his. Tim asking if he could borrow his controller? Just use your own. Damian borrowing his equipment? Absolutely not.

He would especially be Jealous if you got along with his family members. The way you laughed and enjoyed your time with them made him feel so petty. He doesn't know why he was like this, but he always hated it when you interacted with them. He would always try to find reasons to pull you away from them, whether it be 'training' for a mission or going on patrol.

He huffed as he leaned back into the couch. His eyes are not leaving you talking with Damian. He knew he should not be jealous over something so small. He was his little brother after all, why is he so worked up about him? I mean, he’s so much better than some kid. When Damian left, you finally noticed what was up with your boyfriend.

“What’s the matter?” you asked. He looked up at you, arms still crossed over his chest. He let out a huff, avoiding eye contact as he talked. “I’m not jealous.” You only chuckled “I didn’t ask if you were jealous.”

You sat on the floor with him and cupped his face, squishing it a bit “C’mere. Tell me what's wrong.” you coed teasing him a bit. He pouted more when you squished his cheeks. He tried to look annoyed and upset, but it was hard not to feel happy with you. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked away, mumbling. “It’s stupid.”

You looked softly at his eyes “Come on, tell me.”

“Mn? Why not?” you asked.

“Because they’re annoying and obnoxious. Why are you getting along with them so easily?”

You caressed his face “Hey, there's no need to be jealous. I just enjoy their company, that's all. It doesn’t mean I enjoy yours less.” you reassured him. “I’m not jealous.” He mumbled, he scoffs. “I just don’t know why you like them so much, it’s pissing me off.” You only chuckled softly “Oh, come here you.”

You grabbed his face and placed a hard kiss on his cheek. He huffs, his face was dusted pink as he refuses to look at you. “You’re embarrassing me.” he said as he leaned to your touch anyway. You placed another kiss on the same spot “That’s the point.”

He couldn’t fight the small smile that tugged at his lips as you continued placing kisses on his cheek. He felt a warm sensation spread in his chest.

Stephanie walks in the two of you, her gaze darkened as she looked at the two of you with a scowl. “Gross, get a room!” she exclaims. Jason glares at Stephanie as soon as he notices her standing there. “Why don’t you learn how to knock, Blondie?”

Bruce

Bruce doesn’t really get possesive, he knows he’s yours and you know your his. If a guy would hit on you, he would just tell them to back off. But if someone way out of your league has your attention, that’s when he gets jealous. Why would you enjoy your time with a lame person?

When he introduced you to Clark, he had never been this Jealous his entire life. How did you get along with him so easily? He doesn’t get it, he literally has a reporter salary…

On the drive back to Gotham, you noticed he was more silent and brooding as usual. “What’s wrong, love?” you asked. “Nothing.” he grumbled, his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

“You know you can’t lie to me, Bruce.” You said, rolling your eyes. He stayed quiet for a few moments before letting out a sigh. “Clark.” he muttered under his breath, a scowl on his face.

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hold back a snort. “What about him?” you asked, pretending to be clueless. Bruce's scowl deepened as he shot you a sideways glance. “You were getting along with him pretty well.” he grumbled, his tone laced with annoyance.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his jealousy. “Are you...jealous?” Bruce's grip on the steering wheel tightened even more. “Jealous? Me? Of Kent?” he huffed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Please.”

You placed a hand on his thigh, trying to calm him down. "Don't worry, love. You have nothing to be jealous about." you assured him gently. His body immediately relaxed at your touch, and he reached down to cover your hand with his. "I know." he muttered, his scowl softening slightly. "It's just... Clark has a way of getting under my skin."

"You were laughing at his jokes," he remarked, "...You never laugh at my jokes."

“But you don’t do jokes.”

"I can do jokes," he protested, "I just... choose not to."

You smiled, finding his grumpy expression endearing. "Sure you do," you teased, patting his thigh. He let out another huff of annoyance.

"It was... annoying."

“You think everything Clark does is annoying." you pointed out.

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

CASUAL — lando norris (smut, angst, nsfw)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: whatever you and lando have, it's anything but 'casual'. warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), (situationship?) a/n: i lowkey want chappell roan's casual to be inserted into my brain and OMG this one is too sad

part 2 - casual

"nah, nah. the two of us... it's complicated, y'know? just a casual thing, honestly."

the words echoed in your mind on the flight from london, replaying as the seatbelt sign dinged off.

casual.

the word had always carried a negative connotation, but hearing him say it made you feel so much worse. it made you feel insignificant, as if the months that had passed meant nothing to him, while it had meant so much more to you.

you were anything but casual.

all those nights, the mornings after, the kisses, the rendezvouses. they meant something, didn't they? you thought they did, at least.

the way he'd look at you when the lights dimmed and his voice would turn soft. the way he'd kiss you as if it was what he was made to do.

he knew every inch of you. every freckle, every curve. he knew you better than he knew the tracks he raced on.

but, then again, lando norris was never known for being reliable.

he was young and wild and carefree, a bachelor to be envied by all. a party boy, a flirt, a ladies' man. he was charming and he knew it.

he was good at making people believe that they were special.

everyone loved him. the oh-so charming lando norris. the young driver who had a bright future ahead of him. he was bound to get whatever he wanted, right?

the first night he touched you, the two of you had come to an agreement—no attachment. he made it clear that he didn't have time for anything serious, but that he would love to have fun with you.

you, of course, had agreed to that.

in the beginning it was nothing. 'accidentally' crashing into each other at parties, accompanying the other into hotel rooms, and then disappearing as soon as the sun rose.

but do these 'no attachments' things ever work? it wasn't even a complete month before the two of you became more and more involved and realised you weren't just having fun.

as you exited the airplane, your heart clenched at the thought. the two of you had never actually said anything, but it was there, hanging in the air, almost suffocating you.

the first time you realised it wasn't just fun, you were in the passenger seat of his mclaren. he was on his knees, big blue eyes staring into yours as he flicked his tongue in you. you were so close, you had been for a while. he could tell. his eyes were locked onto yours, a glint of smugness in them. and then, with the tip of his finger, he brought you over the edge.

after you both came, he had crawled into the driver's seat and smiled at you. his lips glistened, his chin damp, and his hair sticking up in places.

"you look beautiful." he said, a hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i think i like you." his voice was barely a whisper, and if you hadn't been staring right into his eyes you might've missed what he said.

"yeah, me too." your voice was breathless.

and that was the only time either of you'd ever said anything about it.

was it casual?

then, that one time when you had flown to his family home in the uk and met his parents. they'd welcomed you with open arms and treated you like one of their own, and lando's face had glowed with joy the whole time.

"i still can't believe that lando has such a pretty girlfriend." his mom had said to you, giggling as the two of you shared a bottle of wine.

"mom!" lando had whined from the other room. "can't you just shut up for once?"

"oh, hush! i'm just saying it as it is." she shrugged.

you had blushed furiously at her words, looking down at your feet as you took another sip of the expensive italian wine.

you had thought he would deny the 'girlfriend' title, or at least laugh it off, but he didn't. instead, he grinned like an idiot and you wondered if the wine had gone to his head.

"yeah, guess i got lucky." he'd muttered, and his mom had smiled, nodding knowingly.

when the day ended, you had fallen asleep curled up next to him, his body warmth enveloping you like a blanket.

now, your eyes stung as you walked through the airport, a million thoughts running through your mind.

you'd spent the rest of the week there and it was the best time you'd had in a while. he'd taken you on a day-trip to oxford, but the two of you ended up staying the night at some cottage. he'd held you closer, kissed you harder. you slept together as many times as you could.

fuck, you weren't just casual.

and the time the you woke up in each other's arms, his face buried in your hair, hands wrapped around your waist. he had asked you what your plans for the future were.

"get an apartment in monaco right next to yours so that i can stalk you everyday. binoculars and everything." you had joked.

"really? not gonna say you're going to marry me and have a billion kids and we're gonna grow old together?"

you'd looked up at him, eyebrows raised. and then the two of you had burst out laughing.

"what the fuck, lando. i'm not having a billion kids with you."

he just smirked in response.

or the time when the two of you vacationed in italy with his friends, and at the pier he had introduced you as his 'hotshot pr girl'.

"he's paying me a million dollars to pretend to be his girlfriend because he doesn't like being called a virgin."

"hey!" he'd laughed, nudging you.

"shut up, loser."

and then you'd pushed him into the water.

"i'm never talking to you again." he'd pouted.

"oh yeah, find someone else to have your billion kids with. my uterus will be happy."

or the countless times he would call you in the middle of the night and tell you about his new merch drop, and you'd whine about how it was 2 in the morning and you couldn't give a flying fuck.

and when you had just gotten off the phone with his sister, "flo is such a sweetheart, i love her."

"my sister talks to you more than she talks to me. you know she likes you better, right?" he'd mumbled, looking offended.

"what can i say, i'm such a charmer." you'd said in the most british accent you could muster, and he'd rolled his eyes and shoved your face away.

december came, and cisca invited you to celebrate christmas with them.

"if he doesn't ask you to be his girlfriend, promise me you'll tell him it's over." your best friend has said, looking at you sternly.

you had just sighed in response, shaking your head.

"i'm serious. you don't deserve someone like that. not if he doesn't think you're worth the commitment."

"you're right. i know. i'm just... i'm just scared. i like him so much. i don't know what to do."

the morning of christmas, you'd landed in london and gone straight to his place. he was all dressed up, and you'd almost cried at how gorgeous he looked.

"merry christmas, darling." he'd murmured, and you'd melted at his words. he welcomed you with a kiss, the way he always did.

the day was spent exchanging gifts with his family, watching christmas movies and cuddling under blankets.

his family adored you.

"i'm glad you're here." he said.

"where else would i be?"

"anywhere else."

you smiled at him, and he returned it with a cheshire cat one.

that night, the two of you had been invited to dinner with his parents, and halfway through the meal you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

as you stood there washing your hands, you'd heard the door swing open, and the familiar figure appeared next to you, locking the door behind him.

"lando."

"yeah?"

"what are you doing?"

"i need to wash my hands." he'd shrugged.

you raised a brow at him, looking at him pointedly.

he shrugged again, taking a step towards you.

"you look too good in this dress, can't help it."

you rolled your eyes as he stepped closer to you, fingers about to grasp your waist before you told him to back off.

"what?"

"wash your hands first. didn't you come here to wash your hands? there's no way in hell i'm letting greasy salmon fingers touch me."

and then the two of you had laughed before his lips found yours lips. it felt so natural, the way your body reacted to his touch or the way your lips melted into his.

"lando, we shouldn't." you protested, neck arching as he pressed kisses everwhere.

"shut up." he grabbed your waist before pushing you against the counter, his lips crashing back into yours.

"what happened to your hands? i told you to wash them."

"fuck the hands."

"technically-"

"shut the fuck up." he groaned, dipping a finger between your thighs. "you're dripping. fucking hell."

pulling his fingers out, his knee pushed your thighs apart, spreading your legs apart.

you gasped, shifting your hands as you balanced yourself against the counter. his eyes locked in yours as his finger dragged across your core.

"fuck, baby, you're so pretty." he whispered, eyes digging into yours.

"lando, please."

"please what?" he asked as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your eyes squeezed shut, head leaning against the mirror behind you. "oh, fuck."

"i asked a question."

you were quick to answer, fisting his shirt as his fingers moved inside you. "please fuck me, oh my god."

he smirked before dropping to his knees, spreading your thighs and pressing his tongue onto your clit. you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth sucking at your clit; eyes rolling back.

his hands grabbed your legs, swinging them over his shoulder. hand sprawled over your stomach, pushing you back against the counter.

when his tongue curled into you, brushing that spot he never failed to miss, you couldn't help but let a loud moan escape you.

lando hushed you; tapping your thigh. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando said through heavy breaths before pushing his face back into you.

biting into your lip, your fingers ran through his curls, admiring the sight of his head moving between your thighs.

your moans filled the small bathroom, the sound like music to his ears.

"lando," your voice was shaky, breath hitching as he picked up the pace, his hands pushing your hips down.

he hummed in response, the vibration sending waves throughout your body.

"oh, god, lando. right there, right there. oh fuck."

and then your body was trembling, and you were gripping his hair, his tongue still moving.

you were seeing stars, vision going white as your legs quivered around his face.

"oh, god." you sighed, chest rising and falling as he pulled his fingers out, smirking up at you.

"c'mon baby, give me one more."

it wasn't casual.

now, walking through the terminal, dragging your suitcase behind you, the tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

maybe he said 'casual' just to tell his friends he was still a player. or maybe, he was referring to the fact that the two of you were just friends who hooked up sometimes.

but whatever he meant, it wasn't the truth.

both of you knew it.

casual wasn't the way he held you close during thunderstorms, wasn't the way he'd make sure coffee was the perfect temperature, wasn't the way he'd look at you as if the world stopped turning.

the way he'd stare into your eyes as the lights turned off, the way he'd press a kiss onto your temple, the way he'd say your name.

it wasn't casual.

[i-like-writing-stuff]

the other five [ five hargreeves x reader ]

request: Hello! This is my first time desperately requesting a fic because the new season is SO bad 😭 Can you write a fic where the reader finds out about everything that happened between Five & Lila and then she gets taken away by one of the Fives at the deli and promising her that he’ll treat her better than OG Five (You can also add a part where OG Five finds out about this and lives to regret it)

a/n: AU where everything in that trash season was the same, except when five made the first jump in s1 he made it in his 32 yr old body bc i will not have y/n pull a zach justice (lmao)

even if lila did 😭😭

anyways basically everyone is the same age

i like to think of the five that comforts y/n as the five that explained everything to five in the last episode because that one literally felt like the five we were supposed to get, the five that was there all the first three seasons

sorry i cant stop trashing this season you guys 😭 i’m just so disappointed

summary: after breaking up with five, you make up with… well, five

part two

“Leave me alone, Five!” You yelled in despair, pushing the man before you away, “Actually, first take me back home, you psycho! I have nothing to say to you!”

“Y/N, please, just hear me out!” Five tried to reason with you, as if anything he would say could make your heart glue itself back.

You were standing in the subway station after Five had blinked himself and you away from the family- or what was left of it, watching him at loss of words. You didn’t recognize the man before your eyes, as much as you tried. You didn’t even have time to gather all your thoughts since there was yet another impending apocalypse on its way, so your mind was completely all over the place.

Five Hargreeves was not the same Five Hargreeves you fell in love with all those years ago. He was not the same man who had stolen your heart and made you feel like you were the most precious person in the world. He wasn’t your partner anymore, he wasn’t your lover. Your boyfriend wasn’t there. You looked at this person and there was a stranger, acting as if he was the same who had hugged you, held your hand, kissed you all those many times. You were questioning everything about him now.

“Take me back!” You yelled again, ignoring his same pleas, curling your hand in a fist, “I’m this fucking close to making you ash!”

As your pure anger got the best of you, you were ready to let your powers take over for a second. Obviously you weren’t actually going to hurt him, no matter how much you wanted him to feel your pain, at least physically.

You met him six years ago, during the first time you tried to stop the apocalypse. You were also one of the extraordinary kids, but luckily enough, Reginald Hargreeves didn’t manage to adopt you- more so, purchase you. You only met Five not long after he managed to time travel back to his family in 2019 after spending all those decades by himself. Before you knew it, you were dragged into the Hargreeves family and your relationship soon after developed.

Your six year relationship that was so merry a few hours ago. Now it was crumbled, trashed.

What hurt was that it was six years only to you. Five managed to block himself seven years away from you, only in the presence of Lila.

“This is so fucking stupid,” You scoffed, fighting back the tears in your eyes, “It’s fucking over! Do you want me to spell it out for you?!”

“I want you to listen!” Five didn’t give up on arguing, “I thought I’d never see you again!”

“You didn’t want to see me again!” You screamed, wailing your hands in the air, “Fucking save it- It’s over! I don’t want to ever see you again if we survive this apocalypse! You ruined our relationship, you ruined your brother’s marriage, family! For fucking Lila!”

You hated him absolutely. The mere thought of his infidelity, of the nerve to act as if he still loved you, it was all despicable.

You grew to love all of your boyfriend’s siblings, and also your nieces and nephews, even if you and Five were not yet married. You planned to be a part of the family officially, but still wanted to focus on your careers, you wanted to adjust yourself to your old life, back to your origins.

“Y/N, please!” He tried to step, towards you, but you started stepping away.

Thoughtlessly, because of all your anger, you just walked towards the first train approaching you, fully intending to be away from him at whatever cost.

“If you don’t want to take me back, I’ll fucking find my own way!” You hopped onto the train, watching as he tried to catch up with you.

But he was too late.

In hindsight, maybe it was not the smartest idea, but you were just so devastated nothing made sense to you anymore. You spent the past six years thinking that you are set for the rest of your life, now that the world wasn’t ending anymore. You reconnected with your family, you built a career for yourself and were living happily with Five, you had literally just finished settling yourself in the new house you bought together. You couldn’t understand how he could do this to you.

You couldn’t understand how Lila could betray your friendship either, especially Diego and their kids.

You tried to make it make sense, be reasonable- it was only a few hours to you, but they were lost in this subway system for seven years.

But then again, Five was lost in the future 45 years by himself and he didn’t give up on trying to return to his family once.

Now he did, he gave up on trying to return to you.

That’s definitely another aspect that stung.

“Fucking piece of shit,” You mumbled, as the train approached its first station, “How do I fucking get out of here?”

You stumbled out of the sub, taking in your surroundings. It was yet another crumbled down station, but if you were to be at least a tiny bit fair, it was maybe a bit better kept. You looked around curiously, trying to figure out where to go from now on. Your fire-based superpowers were totally useless in this situation, so you hated to admit that you were in a bit of a pickle.

You rolled your eyes, as Five rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks, watching you with widened eyes.

“You again?” You sighed angrily, “Take me back or get out of my sight, Five.”

Five raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets curiously. He didn’t say a word yet, as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He slowly stepped towards you, not taking his eyes off you once. For a split second, you stopped as well, sending that something was up.

You took in his features, trying to make sense of what was going on, realizing that he didn’t have a coat on him. He was wearing the exact three piece suit an black tie, he was wearing the same silver watch on his left hand, but he didn’t have his coat on.

“Y/N,” He smiled, stopping in front of you, “I never thought I’d see you again, more so here.”

“What the fuck is going on?” You calmly asked, over-analyzing the man before you.

His smile didn’t drop. It was a genuine one, a smile you hadn’t seen in a while. Things between you and Five were okay a few hours ago, but he hadn’t watched you with this look since you first met. His eyes were sincere, taking in every single feature of yours, traveling all over your body.

“I take it your Five danced the devil’s tango with Lila,” He sighed deeply, raising a hand to gently brush away your tears.

When did you even start crying?

Your mind was scrambled all over the place, but at that exact moment you couldn’t say another word. You just melted into his touch, feeling warmth. It really hadn’t been that long since Five touched you, but this touch felt different. His hand rested on your cheek, as his thumb caressed you lightly. His touch was so intoxicatingly sweet, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m so sorry I’m a literal shitface in some other timelines,” He lightly shook his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“What is going on?” You asked once again, calmer this time.

For whatever reason, you relaxed in an instant. You couldn’t tell if it was because of his gentle touch or simply his presence. Ironic, since just ten minutes ago you were ready to set him on fire.

“Come with me, my love,” Five said, grabbing your hand in his, “I’ll explain everything.”

You didn’t fight his touch, locking your fingers with his. None of you said a word, as you watched you hands fit so perfectly in one another. How could your relationship be over when you were so good together?

You followed Five through the subway station, rounding the same corner he appeared from. You watched as he turned his head to give you a reassuring smile, lightly squeezing your hand in comfort.

After a few more steps and going down a couple of stairs, you widened your eyes seeing a literal deli tucked away in this godforsaken out of order subway system. The headlights above the front entrance were lit up, writing Max’s Delicatessen. You saw inside a huddle of people as you entered, gathering everyone’s attention.

When they all turned to look at you, you literally couldn’t tell whether you or the huddle of people was more shocked.

They were all Fives.

There was music playing inside, as the deli was full of different versions of your boyfriend, whether they were customers sitting at the tables, drinking coffee or having a meal, reading the newspaper or having a chat. There were also other Fives working around, waiting tables or cooking in the back.

Nonetheless, they all stopped to look at you.

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N is here, carry on, you guys,” The Five that was holding your hand waved the others off with his free hand, “She needs a moment, stop being creeps.”

“I can’t tell if this is a dream come true or my worst nightmare,” You said, looking around the deli, as Five guided you towards an empty booth.

You sat down as the other picked up again whatever they were doing, still watching you with the corner of their eyes. Five took a seat in front of you, still holding onto your hand on top of the table, using his other hand to rub small circles on your skin.

“I am not the Five that dragged you here, in case you didn’t tell yet,” Five managed to say, “But I’m pretty sure that you did, since I know you’re smarter than he gives you credit for.”

“He did mention that this subway system is the knot to multiple timelines,” You sighed, as Waiter Five set down two cups of steaming coffee on the table.

You watched him curiously, as he looked yet again exactly like Five, wearing just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with a black tie, pantsuit pants and a server apron around the waist. He smiled at you warmly, setting down two small packs of sugar and a creamer.

“I’m sorry, my love, we don’t have any Irish Capuccinos around here, since you’re the first Y/N to set foot in here,” He apologetically smiled, “I can only get you a shot of whiskey, if you’d like.”

Of course they all knew your favorite coffee.

“Make it a bottle,” You said, cracking a smile for the first time, causing him to chuckle, before walking away to attend to your order.

“I can’t begin to explain how much I missed your smile, darling,” The Five before you said, as you turned back to him, “The Handler got to the Y/N in my timeline,” He added, as sadness took over his eyes, “I missed you so much.”

“I can’t understand how you’re the same Five that fell in love with Lila,” You said, before quickly adding, “I mean- technically, you’re not, but still.”

“Everyone around here is a different version of me, from a different timeline,” He said, “I’m one of the many that didn’t go down that road.”

“Thank you, I guess,” You laughed, making him smile again.

What a sweet smile it was.

“When I lost you, I was a total wreck,” He confessed, as you couldn’t help but place your other hand on top of his, “I love you so much, Y/N, I could never hurt you like that no matter what. This is all such a fucked up turn of events, but when I saw you coming out of that train, my mind froze.”

“I love you too, Five,” You said, “But I need to wrap my head around what is going on- Everything is insane, I mean I’m right now in the middle of yet another apocalypse, I just found out that you love Lila and there’s just so fucking many of you.”

“I know, my love, I know,” Five nodded, “I wouldn’t dare to ask you accept everything so fast, I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Can you just… hold me?” You asked, watching as he didn’t waste another second and got up to slide ne t yo you in the booth.

Wrapping one arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, he used his other one to caress your hair. You nuzzled your face into his shirt, taking in his scent, as you felt a wave of certitude wash over you. Five held you tightly into his arms, embracing you after years of your absence. He was grateful to have you in his arms once again.

And he was not about to let go anytime soon.

“I’ll always hold you, my love,” Five muttered, peppering small kisses in your hair.

The Five from your timeline watched from behind the window as you took comfort in his arms, but not exactly his arms.

This was only the beginning of his lifelong regret.

[clockwayswrites]

Birdritch... something. I hurt so much. It's some number. You'll figure it out. You're smart, darlings.

masterpost over on @clockwaysadmin

Danny stayed at the back, trailing after the rambunctious flock of Waynes as they made their way behind the stage and to the other, hidden side of the theater. It made Danny smile, to see the family bumping shoulders, teasing, and laughing with each other.

His life in Gotham was something that Danny loved. He’d clawed it out from the proverbial grave of his death and everything that came with it: nearly failing high school, his failing health after, the trauma it left him with, the relationship with his parents he left behind. But he’d gotten to the surface. He got his Bachelors and Masters and PHD. He got a job that he traded for another and another until he rose up to where he worked at an amazing company and got mostly left alone to dream up new ways to make the world better.

Danny loved it.

But that didn’t mean that Danny didn’t miss the close friendships that (metaphorically and physically), Danny had moved away from to achieve what he had. Visiting Jazz and Taylor, Sam and her brood, or Tucker and his partners wasn’t the same as living with them close. He missed what the Waynes had with an ache so deep that he had to push it aside so that it didn’t swallow him whole.

“Cass!”

Tim calling his sister’s name shook Danny out of his rumination. He found a little out of the way spot of wall to lean against between some boxes and rolls of scenery.

“You were amazing, darling,” Bruce said as he leaned in to kiss Cass’ cheek.

Bruce handed over the bouquet of white roses and babies-breath that he had brought from where it had been stored in the sitting room. Cass basically buried her face in the flowers and inhaled.

“For real, little sis, your moves were amazing. You have to show me how you hold some of those poses so still,” Dick said.

“As if you could stay still,” Barbara teased with a well placed poke to Dick’s side that made him squeak and move defensively behind Cass.

“Pretty sure she beats you in flexibility now too, dickhead,” Jason said.

“It is okay, love you still,” Cass said in her soft tone. She pulled out one of the roses from the mass of flowers and tucked it behind Dick’s ear.

Dick looked momentarily torn if he should be insulted or fond, though fond quickly won out and he pressed a little kiss to the top of Cass’ head. It seemed to be a signal, somehow, and suddenly all of the family was talking to Cass or to each other. The fatigue was starting to pull too heavily on Danny for him to make out most of the chatter, so he simply closed his eyes and let the happy voices wash over him.

There was a gentle pressure on his arm. Danny blinked his eyes open to a worried Cass, dark brows furrowed above the dramatic white and glitter of her stage make up. Danny smiled, though he knew it probably looked a little drawn.

“Hello, Cass,” Danny signed.

The furrow between the bows only grew as she signed. “You okay?”

“Okay. Tired,” Danny replied before he gave up to talking verbally. The sleep clouded his mind about signs right then. He really would have to practice. “I’m just a little out of sorts, but I’m very glad I came. Thank you for inviting me. You danced absolutely wonderfully. I don’t know much about ballet, but even I could see how skilled you are.”

“Thank you. I am glad you came. Could have not,” she said.

“Of course I had to come, you invited me and it’s an important night for you. It should be!” Danny made himself stand up away from the wall and put a bit more energy into his smile. “I’m fine, really, fatigue just gets me sometimes.”

Cass turned his frown away from Danny and directed it at her father.

“I already talked Danny into letting us give him a ride home,” Bruce replied.

“I really would be fine,” Danny couldn’t help but argue. “I’ve made it home in worse states than this.”

“Oddly enough,” Jason interjected, “you really aren’t helping your case.”

Danny couldn’t do anything else but give an unrepentant little shrug to that. He probably wasn’t, but it was true. Besides, he had already agreed to the ride, not that he felt he had much choice. It was too easy to be swept along by the Waynes.

Barbara may be right that they did absorb people.