#any of that’ is SUCH. a fucking moment. a foundational show of all time. the fact Rin saves Shinji when she hates him and thinks she’ll die

[ziracona]

Crying about this

Rewatched Blade Works again and I just.

[avocado-writing]

Hey, I love your writing and I just saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fuck it was good!

Could I request a Dp x W x reader smut where Logan goes into rut? If not that’s totally fine, but I figured it doesn’t hurt to ask

@saradika did an amazing Logan rut fic here, you really ought to go and read it if you like this kinda thing!

3.2k words. smut. minors dni

vaguely sub!Logan (he deserves to be taken care of); handjob (logan receiving); p in v sex (Logan giving, reader receiving); p in a sex (Wade giving, Logan receiving); knotting; fluff

It’s been a long day.

Logan is tired in a way he’s unused to being tired, at least for several years now - the kind where he’s worked himself to exhaustion after a hard day on the job. It’s not been easy, trying to build himself a new life from the ground up, make amends for how he was and attempt to be a good man again, but at least he’s got a pretty solid foundation beneath him: you and Wade.

He spots the two of you waiting outside the local bodega, finds himself rolling his eyes but smiling when Wade makes a big show of waving to him. Ahh. You two. He’s not quite sure where he fits in with your relationship, but you’ve both made it clear he’s welcome there. The three of you don’t go through something like what happened in the Void and come out without some pretty soul-deep bonds. And it’s… nice. It’s new.

Nothing too much has transpired yet, at least physically. The two of you are happy to pepper him in kisses but, so far, he’s gently turned down every invitation to join you in the bedroom. Not that he doesn’t want to. Fuck, he wants to. But he’s an old man now, a recovering drunk, and he has some… concerns about how well he’d be able to keep up. Doesn’t wanna humiliate himself between the two of you. So for now, he’s content to just be in a pile with you both when you’re watching a movie at night, held and caressed.

“Hey sugartits,” says Wade with a grin when he’s within earshot, “how was our hard-working man’s day at the testosterone factory?”

“Fine. Pretty fuckin’ tiring,” he confesses. He’s working manual labour at the moment, long days at a construction site, getting himself back into the shape he used to be. It’s good to feel like he’s doing something active and he’s making an okay paycheck too. You press a cool soda into his hand, a glass bottle, and he looks around before using his claws to pop the lid off. It’s refreshing as he gulps it down and he’s glad for it - no more booze. Not any more. He’s trying to be better and the two of you are either side of him to help get there.

“We got sandwiches for dinner, hope that’s okay,” you say, holding up a plastic bag. He breathes in the warm smell of the foil-wrapped food and…

… and he catches something else, too.

Something sweet, heady. It’s oozing off of you and Wade in waves. Catches in the back of his throat as he starts scenting the air properly. Oh fuck. 

His nostrils flare.

The two of you smell delicious.

And, for the first time in years, he can feel something begin to boil in his stomach, thick like molasses, the urge to mate.

Just lile that, he’s going into a rut.

“Logan, you okay?” you ask, noticing his shift in demeanour and reaching out to place a hand on his bicep. It’s like you’re made of static electricity, shooting a current all the way through him - and that’s just over his sleeve. God knows how he’d survive if it was skin-to-skin. He has to strangle a moan in his mouth before it can escape and incriminate him.

“Mmm. Not feeling so hot. Want to get home.”

You and Wade exchange a concerned look, but you know when not to push - and you stop Wade from doing so, too. He limits himself to an, “okay Peanut, keep your secrets I guess…” and leaves it there.

Logan makes himself hang behind as the two of you start the wander back to the apartment, tangling your fingers together and speaking in hushed tones. If he was in the state of mind to care more he’d try to listen in. He isn’t. The only thing he can concentrate on is trying not to get a semi in the street.

He thought he was over this. Thought that age and years of alcohol had grinded down that particular biological impulse. He’d sort of forgotten what it was like, actually, the urge to fuck so bad that part of his brain was worried it’d kill him if he didn’t. 

But then again, until now, he hasn’t had you both, has he? People who cared about him again. People who loved him. People who made it clear they’d look after him, whatever way he needed you to.

Fuck. Fuck. He needs to get home now.

It’s agony, the two of you walking in front of him. You both smell fucking amazing. There’s a soft, perfumey, light scent rolling off you; Wade’s slightly headier, nearly cloying. Together it is the most amazing combination he’s ever known. He digs his fingernails into the meat of his palm to steady himself until they bleed and heal, bleed and heal, bleed and heal - over and over. At least the pain is distracting.

When you open the door to the apartment he shoulders past you both and heads straight into the bedroom, attempting to slam the pathetic plywood door behind him and gruffly telling you not to follow. He can’t have you see him like this: animalistic, desperate, feral. So needy that it’s fucking humiliating. He needs to have something touching his dick, now.

He slumps down on the bed, hands fumbling at how quickly he tries to rid himself of his jeans. Fuck he wishes he hadn’t worn a belt this morning, just wasting time, getting in the way… he slices it off instead, flinging it to the side of the room where it hits the wall and lands on the shared washing basket. Three sets of clothes share that space like you share this one: yours, his, Wade’s. What a mixture. Fuck. For a moment he considers burying his face in it, smelling your combination and fucking himself to completion on the scent of home. At least he has the strength to resist that.

His cock is leaking when he pulls it out. Red, thick, pulsing in his hand as he wraps his fingers around it. Logan growls out a little noise of pleasure as he starts to work himself. He finds his hips bucking up pathetically into his own grasp but he knows it isn’t enough: if he’s going into a rut he’s going to need someone to help him through it. Look at him. Fucking pitiful old man jerking himself off because he has no control over his own body. What sort of partner would he make for you both?

“Logan, we just wanted to check you’re… oh.”

And then there you both are. In the doorway, eyes open and very much fixed on what he’s doing to himself. He can see the way Wade’s pupils dilate, how you lick your lips at the sight of his cock. 

“I mean, you could have told us you needed to bust one o–” you elbow Wade in the ribs, wiping the grin off of his face.

“Logan, honey,” you whisper, voice syrupy sweet. Oh shit. Another wave of pre dribbles down his knuckles and he hears Wade suck in a breath. “Do you need us to help?”

He can only grit his teeth and nod. He’d do anything to feel another set of hands on him right now.

Instead, he feels two.

Wade sits down on his right, you on his left. He doesn’t expect Wade to kiss him but he’s not exactly complaining about it either, not when the mercenary’s tongue swipes across his and it tastes so good. Your lips attach to the sweet spot of skin between his earlobe and his jaw and start to bite. Logan moans into Wade’s mouth as you nibble on him, tracing his pulse with your teeth.

When Wade pulls back it’s only to catch the back of your head and press your mouth to Logan’s too with a gravelly, “your turn.” Without debate you take over, kissing him softly but passionately, moaning against his lips. Your hand bumps against his, encouraging him to move it, and he does so dutifully - and it’s him moaning when you wrap around his cock.

“Fuck, look at that. Hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I used to subscribe to a lot of OnlyFans,” Wade murmurs, and Logan nearly yelps when he feels your hand get heavier on him. He glances down to see Wade has wrapped his fingers around yours so that you can both jerk him off at the same time. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Is this good?” you breathe, eyes wide. Logan can only groan and nod, and then suddenly he’s coming - a train to his guts, trickling down over both of you and choking out an amalgamation of your names. 

He feels you pull back, then hears you whisper “oh fuck” when he’s still hard.

“I told you!” Wade hisses. “I told you I thought he could go for multiple rounds!”

You press your fingers into his mouth to shut him up, making him lick Logan’s spend off your knuckles. He does so with surprising obedience. 

“‘S a biological thing,” Logan says through gritted teeth, still aware he’s throbbing even though he’s just had an orgasm, “gotta be inside someone to make it calm down.”

Your eyes widen. You and Wade look at each other.

“Do… do you have a preference?” you ask, voice low. He shakes his head.

“No. It’ll probably end up bein’ both of you by the end of the night.”

From the way the two of you light up, it’s as if he’s just announced that Christmas has come early. He watches, dumbstruck, as the two of you slap your fists into your palms, the same ones who just gave him the first non self-eked orgasm in years, and say in unison:

“Rock-paper-scissors-shoot!”

Your paper covers Wade’s rock. You grin and he grumbles.

“Fine, I’m more of a top, anyway…”

Logan watches the two of you begin to strip properly. If he had his senses about him this is something he’d enjoy doing himself, seeing every inch of soft curve you have to offer, the strong plain of Wade’s abdomen. But all he can do is stare with need as you unveil yourselves to him, two perfect presents he’s allowed to indulge in.

Wade’s hard, you’re pretty fucking soaked as you lay down on the bed in front of him, tapping his bicep to indicate the fact he’s still wearing his flannel shirt.

“This needs to come off,” you state, authoritatively. Well, fuck. That sends a roll of electricity down Logan’s spine which he wasn’t expecting. He starts to tug at it, pulling the material over his head as Wade fiddles with his jeans.

“These too big boy,” Wade mumbles, and he lets himself be handled by the two people he knows are sincere about looking after him. Together your abandoned clothes make a mess of the bedroom and Logan feels himself throb at the idea of being at the centre of the chaos.

“C’mere,” you sigh, opening your arms to him. Logan wastes no time in accepting the invitation, moving so that he’s above you and you’re able to part your legs to make room for his bulk. Any other time, any other time, he’d want to stretch this out. Maybe eat you out for a while as Wade is forced to watch, or vice versa… but right now all he can do is thrust wildly at your folds, feeling the blunt head of his cock slide against your wetness.

“C’mon loverboy, you can do it,” Wade whispers in his ear, and suddenly a scarred hand is wrapping around his length to guide him inside of you. Logan hisses as he sinks in with one fluid motion. You suck air in through your teeth, grinning up wildly at him.

“Fuck, Logan, that’s it…”

“How does he feel, baby?” asks Wade from where he’s reaching into the side table, though Logan’s whole body is so preoccupied with being inside a warm, wet hole that he can’t in that moment fathom why.

“Fucking fantastic,” you breathe as Logan starts to fuck you properly. There’s no rhythm to it, just utter desperation, just chasing that orgasm which will relieve him of the weight and languidness in his bones. You breathe roughly, the hair on his chest scratching your tits as they bounce up and down. You throw your head back and he buries his face in your neck, where your scent is strongest, and he knows he’s gonna have to go all night at this rate.

A finger circles his hole and for a second he freezes, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

Wade is lining himself up in position behind him, bottle of lube in one hand, the other teasing at his entrance. The mercenary cocks a brow.

“What, you never had someone fuck you like this before? Gimme a break, peanut. The amount of flannel and leather you wear, you’ve known you’re bisexual for a long time.”

If he had more control over his speech he’d bite something back at Wade, but right now…? Yeah. He wants Wade to fuck him like he’s fucking you.

“Go hard. I can take it,” he growls, continuing to plow down, sinking his cock impossibly deeper into your tight heat and making you squeal. He hears Wade whisper a prayer of thanks to whatever god is listening and then he presses two long, lubed fingers inside him.

It’s a strange intrusion. Logan hasn’t had someone there for a long while now. That’s not to say it isn’t good, because holy shit it feels amazing to fuck back onto Wade’s hand as he move his hips against you. Wade does as he’s been bid, stretching him open roughly and wantonly, pouring more out of the little bottle when needed to ease his access. A third finger is added and every time Logan moves back to drive further into you, he feels himself hit Wade’s knuckles. 

“Holy shit,” Wade mutters, “look at you, peanut! Taking me like a champ. You reckon I could fit my whole hand inside, or…?”

“If you don’t put your dick to good use in the next ten seconds I’m gonna rip it off,” Logan snarls, needy and ferocious. Wade doesn’t have an answer to that, instead positioning himself behind him and holding onto Logan’s hips to make him go still. You mewl at the loss of movement but it isn’t for long - Wade sinks himself balls deep inside of Logan, filling him to the brim.

“Fu-uu-uu-ck,” Wade groans, eyes rolling back, then to you: “you’re right, baby. This is pretty goddamn fantastic.”

You smile up at him from beneath both men, reaching up so you can take his hand in yours and squeeze his fingers in the solidarity of sharing a man you’ve both been fantasising about since you met him for the first time at that dingy bar.

Then Wade starts to move, and Logan loses himself.

It’s messy and uncoordinated, but fuck does it feel good to ride out his rut sandwiched between two partners. Each time Wade presses down his hips, his head hitting that spot inside that’s been neglected for decades, he’s forced to fuck into you. Your cunt makes lewd, thrilled noises as he goes, and you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to bring him closer. Your tongue swipes the hinge of his jaw and Logan moans, cradled and cared for and adored.

His second orgasm is on the horizon and, with it, a feeling in his cock he hasn’t known for a long time. One he didn’t expect to know again. As Wade dips down to start pressing kisses all over his shoulderblades, Logan moves his mouth to the shell of your ear.

“Gonna knot you,” he manages, and though you can’t be entirely sure what he means, you nod enthusiastically.

“Oh fuck. Yeah. Do it, Logan,” you breathe. Fog floods his mind as he starts chasing his release inside of you, base of his cock swelling. Wade can clearly sense that something is on the horizon and quickens his pace, the idea of all of you finishing together just too good to pass up; Logan feels him catch his elbow and manoeuvre his hand towards where your hips meet his.

“C’mon Logan, if we don’t all cum it’s no fun,” he chuckles. Logan gets the picture and moves so that he can press his callused thumb into your clit and work rough circles there. When you gasp in pleasure so hard that your eyes roll back in your head, he knows it’s working. 

Fuck. He can’t last much longer. Wade fucks down into him, the heat in his stomach builds, and then—

It’s like fireworks.

He feels his knot force its way along the straining length of his cock and you gasp and squeeze him as it locks into place inside of you. He floods you with his cum, biting down on a pillow as it rocks him to his very core, keeps moving his hand and then you’re there with him, walls fluttering as you let out a string of very colourful language. Wade’s head tips forward to rest on his back as he empties himself inside of Logan, his hot seed spilling out and dripping onto the mattress below.

The three of you collapse for a moment to catch your breaths. Then suddenly your hand is slapping his arm.

“Fucking move, you two. You’re crushing me…”

“Oop,” Wade breathes, pulling out of Logan and making him hiss with the loss of contact, but meaning that he can roll over and have you rest comfortably on top of him. You sigh, happier now, nestling your head into Logan’s chest. Wade runs his fingers over the seam where you’re connected.

“So what, this just stays like this for…?” he leaves the end of the sentence open. Logan hums, pretty fucking blissful.

“‘Bout half an hour. Not too long.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him. He can feel his cum ripple inside you obscenely, Wade’s own dripping out of his fucked-out hole. 

“You feel better now?” you breath, dropping a kiss on his pectoral.

“Yeah. Thanks. I, uh, appreciate it,” he manages. You and Wade grin at each other.

“Any time, pookie. Just remember, next time I have first dibs on that monster dong,” Wade states, slapping the side of his ass like he’s a prime piece of meat… but hey, maybe he is. Maybe he doesn’t mind so much if it’s coming from someone he cares about.

His cock twitches inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Logan, again…?”

“It lasts a few days,” he confesses. 

“A few days… I’m gonna go get the sandwiches. Well need sustenance for the road ahead,” Wade states, rushing out to the kitchen without even bothering to tug his sweatpants back on. Logan gives an affectionate chuckle and then, for a moment, it’s just you and him.

“Really,” he mutters, “thank you. Dunno what I’d have done if you two weren’t there.”

Your fingers come to tangle in his hair.

“Logan, honey. You don’t have to thank us. We love you,” you say, simply, and it stirs his heart in a way he hasn’t felt for a long time now.

Yeah. Maybe it'll take some time to say it out loud but loves you both, too.

[novantinuum]

Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning

I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.

Let's take a look:

Gem Glow

"Awesome! What are these things?"

Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.

Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:

The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.

The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-

Laser Light Canon

"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."

Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.

At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.

And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...

"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"

And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.

"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"

Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.

I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.

Cheeseburger Backpack

So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)

Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."

"Yeah... they can't all be winners."

This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-

Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.

Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.

Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.

Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:

This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.

Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.

Together Breakfast

"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."

Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.

Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.

I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.

The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.

If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?

These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'

"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"

And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.

"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"

Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.

__

So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.

One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.

Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.

Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.

Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.

In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'

Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.

When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.

In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.

But they don't care.

Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.

With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.

And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...

No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.

[heartfullofleeches]

[brief mentions of non-consensual touching]

I kinda wanna flesh out yan cheater and "cheater" reader more. Fuel up the angst. I'm thinking high school sweethearts who promised to be each other's first as they went off to college. Yan sees the whole thing with reader with another person and goes to a friend for comfort. The friend sees this as an opportunity to tear the two apart as Yan was previously going to join their band instead of a straight shot to college. A few drinks down they're kissing the first person who makes eye contact with them at the party, forgetting all about their woes and promises - and skipping town without closure or a proper goodbye to their lover.

Couple years down the line and they're now a big shot - carrying little resemblance of the person they once were. Shows sold out in every venue and a different fan on their lap every night. They all have some feature that reminds Yan of their former flame which they muddle over to the very day their paths cross again.

Their latest tour leads them to a familiar place. A town where nothing ever happened and everything stayed the same. They learn their ex is still working hard for their degree and takes night shifts at a nearby gas station. The tension is thick from the moment they walk in. They didn't even want to be there, but it was the only station in close proximity. What do you even say to someone who's caused so much heart break after all this time?

"That'll be 21.10... Cash or credit?"

That's it.... After everything you put them through. After all those nights they spent crying over you - and craving your warmth in their bed. The future that you pictured together. The life you dream of in each other's arms. You tarnished what little hope they had - and that's all you could say to them...

"A "how've you been?" would've been nice...."

"I have nothing to say to the person who abandoned me. Can't even say that much since you hardly remind me of them."

Really classy from the one who caused this mess in the first place.

"Don't act like you're free of any guilt in this... I saw you with them that day... You seemed a lot more cozy with that stranger than you ever did with me."

"Stranger, what are you...." Your eyes dart around the room as the gears in your head click. Pulling out your phone, you fight back tears as you show them a picture of that stranger. "Is this who you're talking about?...."

Please say no....

They scoff. "So you do know who I'm talking about. You still together or did you run off with someone else same as you did me?"

The sadness and pain just... vanishes. All these years, you thought you had been the problem. Made to many promises. Loved then too much or too little. From what it seemed like now - they were the one who never loved you enough.

"That's my cousin....."

They didn't hear you - they couldn't. Couldnt acknowledge that maybe...

"What?"

"That's my fucking cousin, asshole."

Everything they ever believed was the painstaking truth - was a only a cruel misunderstanding.

"We hadn't seen each other's since we were kids. Their mom had just died... I tried calling you when I got home, but you weren't there. Did you seriously think I cheated on you? And you just ran away?..."

"I....you...." Were their everything. When they saw you that night the pressure of every problem weighting down on them finally snapped. They couldn't think rationally at that time - if only if they'd put the faith in you they always prided themself in having.

"You coward...." You throw their change across the counter, adding issult to injury as you point for the door.

"Get out of my store. Get out of my life."

"Y/n, wait..please."

"I said... GET OUT!"

The foundation of their new self crumbles. After your alleged betrayal they rebuilt themselves from the ground up as an overconfident, self serving individual, but like everything else to this point - it was all a lie. There were always those days they wondered "what if". What if they had stayed. What if they had tried to fix what had broken in your relationship. Knowing the truth, those fantasies return with vengeance. The truth would've came sooner and the wounds to mend would have been lesser. You'd talk over the miscommunication and they'd apologize fully by taking you out to your favorite restaurant. You'd start school together the upcoming fall. You'd kiss and make love and enjoy fleeting youth as one. There'd always be rough patches, but in the end you always had each other.

That's how things should have been.

They spiral - crawling to the closest bar to relinquish their pain the only way they knew how beyond finding someone new to bed. The thought of sleeping with anyone that wasn't you made them nearly lose the alcohol poisoning their system. Had you been dating since then? Had you given yourself to someone? Did they make you feel loved and saved - just as they should've

By the end of the night they wound up too drunk to even stand on their own feet. The bartender asked for a number to call to have someone pick them up. They gave the only number they could remember after all these years - and intoxicated.

The drive to their hotel room is quiet. You had nothing to say while they had the world - but none of it was anything you wanted to hear. You just wanted this night to be over so you could go back to forgetting they ever existed.

You help them into their room and give them some water from the sink. Despite everything they've done, you didn't have the heart to leave them like they did you.

"Drink. You need to flush out your system. You'll probably have a headache in the morning, but that's none of my concern."

".....how many people have you slept with, Y/n?"

You place the cup on the nightstand. "This isn't the type of conversation we should have right now."

"Have you been with anyone - or are you still waiting for that special person? I've done a lot of shit I'm not proud of, but at least they've given me experience. I can make your first the best. I can make love to you better than anyone. I already know you better than they do...."

Their hands creep around your waist, hugging your midsection same as they use to on school nights when their parents forbade guests - and you crawled through their window anyway. They always held you like you meant the universe to them. You still do.

Their lips gloss over your exposed stomach as your shirt crawls upwards, heavy tears staining your skin. "Just one night. That's all I need to prove myself to you. We were made for each other. Let's forget about the past for one night and pick up where we left off. A promise is still a promise - even if it's broken.

Their fingers dip below your waistband. You immediately shove them off you and to the floor. "Are you fucking insane?! You can't forget something like what you put me through. I've been so afraid of connecting with anyone because I'm scared they'd just run off like you did. I'm finally becoming me again- and I won't let you take that back from me. Don't call me."

The door slams as you storm out - reverberations their sole companion in their misery. This is the same thing they did to you. They deserve to be alone, to suffer - but they can't. It'll kill them. They can't live without you...and soon enough you won't be to live without them. You're soulmates, meant to be. They have power now - influence. They can support you however you need-

And destory everything that gets in the way of your happy ending.

[gladiatorcunt]

pwetty please more dom art, switch patrick, sub reader. that blurb was so so good i think “Go ahead and make daddy cum while I give him kisses, ‘kay?” may be the hottest thing anyone has ever said ever actually

# 🫀HONEST HEARTS 🪤 !!

cw: WEIRD VIBES, dom art switch patrick sub reader coded, heavy on the art x patrick, breeding kink/pregnancy/ambiguous baby trapping (???), art’s lowkey mean, daddy kink (referring to patrick), patrick calls you a slut, oral (afab reader receiving), patrick’s sandwiched in between you & art, anal sex (m receiving), summer heat will have you displaying behaviors and acting in ways, ambiguous era, feminization (one use of “mama” not in a mommy kink way), stream of consciousness style writing, they’re gross but so are you, reader having a hamlet holding up the skull moment

Art fucks Patrick like a bat out of hell, you lie beneath them wet and wanting as you watch patrick’s sweaty body flail around like a ragdoll. Art squishes your bodies together, pressing his weight against Patrick's back. There’s so much pressure on your lungs, you’re scared you’ll pop. The humid July air is so thick around you that the plush bedding feels swathed in a soft old film yellow tint, you and Patrick swap glassy eyes when his tip finally sinks into your tight ass. No lube in sight, you want pain that only skinny dipping in a private river after dark will fix. Reminders of youth, the sting from the current as it travels through the indents of teeth.

You would think Art had become a ferocious shark, inky pupils dripping onto Patrick's shoulder blades and toothy grins, feral and lead only by his cock at the first scent of blood he could catch. yours, Patrick’s, his. Patrick fucks your ass to the point of no return, his pace never ceasing until all you is the word “Daddy” howled out over and over. Every thrust earns art deeper inside of him, Patrick greedily rolls his hips back. In appreciation Art leans down and watches his spit highlight how cock drunk the two of you are, a see through trail trickling down both of your faces onto the pillow.

It’s like Art doesn’t have any worth until he’s fucking you and Patrick out of your minds at the same time. He hooks his chin in Patrick’s shoulder, winking down at you as he ramps up the speed of his thrusts. Patrick’s eyes tighten in pleasure-pain but any sounds he has to offer are muffled in the seams of your slick lips, you open your mouth to catch them and hoard them all. Breathy pants and whines and growls becuase Patrick may be the one getting fucked the most, but you should never forget who’s next in line to benefit from this little symbiotic expression of your relationship. You’re the atlar, solid foundation and the center of life’s devotion. Art and Patrick are the attendants, bringing you animal sacrifices in the form of their flesh and soul and hearts. In their bones and in the nerves connecting to their brain, where you all exist in an undefiled state even as fluids are spilt in between the cracks in the marble. A poor man’s kintsugi.

Patrick begs Art to cum, but you defer to Patrick when it’s your time to be a babbling brook around his thick length. Art always says yes when the other man’s balls deep in you, plus he has dibs on your pussy this week. It’s in their nature, to desire each other carnally and still keep each other entangled in steep competition even when those desires are fulfilled in excess. Art really wants a baby, you’ve been too gung ho to bounce all over the world as if it were your very own tennis court. Explaining it by using their busy careers as an opportunity, you must not know that you’re best when you’re right where they can see you. Even if they’re not there, jerking each other off to grainy security cam footage is their own bonding time. Sometimes you put on shows for them, modeling expensive lingerie that you think is going to be a surprise for their welcome home. Art always has an eye and a hold on Patrick, they both want that with you too.

“Go on,” He whispers for only Patrick’s uniquely shaped ears to hear, sorry angel. “The sooner you give our baby that nice big tangy load I know you’ve got for us, the sooner I can get their tummy swollen.”

Daddy gets his favorite kind of kisses when he floods your ass with cum, and he licks the remaining drops off your stretched rim with Art’s hand heavy on his head. You get your kisses too, from each of them until you’re sinking so far into that dreamy kind of headspace that affection from you means you lazily smack your lips together and call it a job well done. Fuzzy voices coo at you that it was indeed a job well done, squelching noises accompany Patrick reluctantly pulling out. You both whine the exact same way, Art beams and shushes you, using Patrick’s bruised ass to get rock hard and wet again for your puffy pussy.

“Just like that, fuck! Should have taken a picture, don’t you think? Make it last longer, keep you useful.”

All talk, as long as he’s alive he’ll have use. Existence breeds obsession, split three ways, the way some god intended. Like calls to like, moths to flame, water to silent desert rock, bleeding knuckles to piping hot iron, copper to silver, bones to soil, ball to grass-clay-concrete court.

Patrick hates it when you and art fight, turning him into a scared puppy. He doesn’t say to your face that he agrees with Art, that you shouldn’t leave the house amidst all the stress that a possible pregnancy can bring. Stress that’s easily worked off under their touch, stuffed full of so much cum that it might as well replace your gray matter. You can’t run laps around the house despite it being what your anxiety is telling you to do. You have to wait there on the toilet, holding each of their hands as you wait for the test results. Once the necessary time has passed, you can’t overcome your nervousness and instead wait for Art to look at one of the sticks.

You barely catch a glimpse of the test result when you’re tackled. Patrick’s on you first, sucking your tongue into his mouth while cradling your head in his hands so you don’t feel it when you bump into the wall. Art chastises him of course, pulling him back by his ear to give you some space. They’re both smiling, wide and blinding white grins so dazzling that you’re worried you’ll go blind. Their reactions alone tell you more than you could ever need to know, the monarch butterflies scurry from stomach to stomach. Those teeming with life and those forever starving. Art gives you a slow kiss and hums into you, the vibrations travel down to your flexing toes. Bubbly laughter drowns out the cracks of lightning outside, baby blanket blue on fire white.

You want to be loved in a way that’s wrong and out of sorts, your arousal is heightened by what your paranoia tells you will be someone’s undoing. Yours or theirs. Both. No one really needs pure intentions to love or be loved at the end of the day, and maybe that’s something to be grateful for. There are people who can love the sin as well as the sinner. Your hormones are doing a number on you, that much is clear, if you’re philosophizing about the morals of being in love when there more than likely are none. There’s just that so much time to think, that initial fear of being left when you yourself would be too overencumbered to. Art picks up on these kinds of thoughts more often than Patrick, who’s just happy to belong somewhere and to someone. The former busies himself with the heft of your tits. Sucks the life out of your hard nipples and then some, he adores when you come begging with a dripping cunt after a late afternoon nap because you had a very good dream.

“Lie back angel, working so hard right now… you need a break, mama.” Art giggles, engaging in a riveting one on one conversation with your throbbing clit, rapidly flicking it with his tongue as he locks clear eyes with your sleepy blinks. “Pussy’s gushing like a fountain now, ‘s so chubby too, I hope you never fucking work off the baby weight.”

Later they’ll wipe you down from the shower with their tongues, slurping up the water droplets like they’re bugs hovering around an in bloom blush pink flower because they’re freaks like that. Patrick’s out on the now usual run to the nearest convenience store for your latest cravings, he’ll try it with you too no matter what it is. Art does his best, but you’re too sensitive to others being nauseous to handle seeing his skin almost cartoonishly flood with a light mossy green undertone. Fall brings a whole new array of food combinations and flavors of snack cakes just waiting for you to inhale them worryingly quickly. Art brings your focus back to him with a teasing nip to your bud, closing his lips around it and giving it a firm suck as the front door unlatches. The crinkling of plastic grocery bags reach your ears before Patrick’s corny “Honey, I’m home!” does. More single minded than a dog with his bone, the bags clatter to the floor and his shoes pound the floor on the way to where you’re cumming on Art’s face in a flash of white.

Patrick frowns, “You know I don't like you being a slut when I'm not there, now you owe me two rounds.”

Art reminds the other man that you might not have the energy for the two rounds he’s imagining, full of slapping skin and ghoulish howls, Patrick simply says that you can drift off while he ruts away. Into you or on you, so long as his puffy tip is touching some sort of skin, makes him wish he could burrow and dig a tunnel inside you. Live in one of the chambers in your heart, Art in the other, your kids in the next, a no vacancy sign boarding the last of them shut. You tilt your head to the side so he runs his nose along the faint line of your pulse. He should record the echoing rhythmic thumps for when they’re traveling and can’t sleep without their missing piece. His chest burns when the words well up and won’t come out how he needs them too, how can you express that you need to live in someone’s very dna without letting your huge dick do the talking for you? He’ll quite possibly never know, maybe a rare showing of Art riding Patrick into the center of the earth as he gasps for life saving breath will be enough for you.

[chvoswxtch]

personal

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: lately frank has been acting suspicious, and you've decided to finally confront him about it.

warnings: swearing, lots of angst

word count: 3.4k

a/n: i hope y'all have been enjoying things being nice & light & sexy & fun bc these last few chapters aren't holding back any punches. shit is about to get real. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Not even five minutes after Frank walked through the threshold of his apartment, the rumble of an incessant banging sounded on his front door. His dark brows instantly furrowed with irritation at the sound. Slipping his right hand behind his back to grab the handle of the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, he turned the knob and swung the door open with just as much ferocity as the person knocking on the other side. 

The creases of annoyance on his sharp features suddenly smoothed into recognition at the sight of you standing in front of him, but not long after, his warm brown eyes widened in complete bewilderment seeing the raw fury that was burning in your eyes. 

“Hey-”

Before he could utter another word, you forced your way inside his apartment, causing him to quickly retreat backwards, wincing when you swiftly slammed the front door shut behind yourself.

“You need to tell me what the fuck is going on with you, right now.”

Frank was utterly caught off guard by your aggressive behavior. The last time he had seen you this angry with him was when he showed up at your place after Cavella and Walker had attacked you. He was so distracted by your incensed entrance, he almost missed what you said. But when his brain finally caught up with his ears, your words only fueled his convoluted confusion.

“There nothin’ goin’ on-”

“Bullshit! Don’t you dare fucking lie to me, Frank.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not lyin’-”

“You’ve lied to me three times in the past month.”

Creases of puzzlement settled between Frank’s thick brows hearing that. Had he really lied to you three times? He couldn’t even remember what he’d lied about, or how you caught onto the fact that he was. Frank admittedly had been a bit out of it when it came to you lately, but he wasn’t doing it on purpose to hurt you. He just happened to be caught in the middle of something he was trying to keep you as far away from as possible.

Taking his silence as evidence of guilt, you stared up into his eyes, wanting him to see the proof of grief in your reflection that his actions had caused. You wanted him to hear the severity in the words that lacerated your tongue as they slipped past your lips that had been bitten raw from your tortured anxiety.

“You never once lied to me before Frank, ever. I don’t know why you’re choosing to start now, but if I hear one more lie come out of your mouth, I am done. I will walk out that door and I will have nothing to do with you ever again, that's it. Do you hear me?”

That caught Frank’s attention. There was no waver in your voice, no threat in your tone, just raw emotion and sincerity. 

For the past month, Frank had been acting strange. You’d caught him in three white lies, and while they may have seemed small and trivial to someone else, they were anything but that to you. Because you’d been stuck with a pathological liar before, and there was no such thing as harmless lies. A lie was a lie, and it was a crack in the foundation of trust and integrity that you’d built with Frank, and a crack could turn into a rift, and a rift could divide you and make it all come crumbling down.

Since yours and Frank’s schedules didn’t always line up, you’d both done everything you could to make every moment count since your first date. But lately, it felt like you were the only one putting in the effort. Frank was chronically distracted these last few weeks. He was late to meet you for dates, he didn’t call when he said he was going to, and sometimes you didn’t hear from him at all until the day was practically over. And when he was with you, Frank was physically present, but mentally he seemed to be somewhere you couldn’t follow. Even sitting right beside one another, it felt like there were oceans of distance separating you subconsciously. 

At first, you’d tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was one little white lie. One missed call after a long day. Just fifteen minutes of waiting at the restaurant. This was Frank, the man who had saved your life more times than you could count. He was different. This was real. You had nothing to be concerned about.

But then one white lie turned to three, and one missed call turned into not hearing from him until an excuse appeared across your screen at half past midnight, and fifteen minutes late turned into not showing up at all. His behavior planted a seed of suspicion in your mind that grew like wild ivy, coveting the sense of security you had in him with leaves of doubt, sprouting spirals of diabolical hypotheticals that canvassed your brain with catastrophe. 

Every knot of faith Frank had woven into your heart with his actions over the last nine months were steadily being unraveled by his own hand in a matter of weeks. The confidence you had in him was now frayed in shreds and left you in a fit of mania, scrutinizing his every intent under a microscope. 

You had been here before. You’d been lied to, manipulated, cheated on, pushed to the brink of insanity, and eventually left behind. You recognized all the signs of duplicity and betrayal, but you’d covered your own eyes so you wouldn’t have to acknowledge them, because it was Frank. 

Blunt-and-brutally-honest, jump-in-front-of-a-bullet, remembers-every-little-detail, got-his-knuckles-bloody-for-you, killed-for-you, Frank.

And that’s why this hurt so much. That’s why this dagger of deceit tore clean right through your chest, leaving you standing in the middle of Frank’s living room, hysterical and furious for an elixir of truth that could make this pain go away and heal your belief in him once again. He’d been so MIA lately that you had spent hours camped out in front of his apartment building tonight, waiting to see his truck pull up just so you could follow him inside and finally have this conversation face to face.

Frank could hear in your voice that he’d hurt you, and even worse, he could see the evidence of it shining in your eyes. The pieces of yourself you’d lent him to patch up his own heart were suddenly bleeding at the seams seeing how his unintentionally selfish preoccupation had left you marooned. Shame didn’t begin to cover the way he felt. He knew he needed to be honest, but he couldn’t tell you everything.

Not yet.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But it ain’t what you think, sweetheart.”

“Then what is it? Explain it to me.”

Frank took a seat on the couch and gently patted the space next to him, looking up at you with diligent patience while you internally debated between standing stubbornly or giving into his request to sit with him. After a moment you finally sat down, but you intentionally put space between the two of you and folded your arms across your chest in a silent gesture of defensiveness. Resting his forearms on the tops of his thighs, Frank clasped his right hand over his left wrist, staring down at his worn boots while deciding his next words carefully.

“I got a new assignment.”

The quiet tone of Frank’s voice and the lack of eye contact while he spoke immediately caused a spark in your nervous system. 

“Where?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Frank let a moment of silence pass before turning his head to look at you with an apologetic gleam in his warm brown eyes.

“I’ve been helpin’ Madani with somethin’.”

Pinching at the bridge of your nose, you let out a slow exhale of irritation. Frank had already strained your patience with his behavior this past month, and his obscure responses were only making it worse.

“Why are you being so secretive about this?”

“It’s complicated-”

“Complicated how? You didn’t have to hide the last job from me-”

“This one is different-”

“Different how? That doesn’t make any sense-”

“You gonna let me talk? Or you gonna keep yellin’ at me?”

The way you clenched your jaw and narrowed your gaze at his quip made Frank regret letting his own frustration get the best of him. You were already pissed off, now was not the time for him to snap back at you like he normally did when the two of you argued about something. A wave of annoyance quickly crested within you. The second you stood up from the couch, Frank’s large hand reached out to grab your wrist.

“Hey, c’mon. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Walk away from this conversation-”

“What conversation, Frank? You’re not doing anything but giving me vague excuses. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

Frank gave your wrist a gentle tug to get you to sit back down next to him on the couch. He once again waited calmly as you stood defiantly for a moment before reluctantly sitting back down. He let his large hand glide across your wrist to take your hand into his own, holding it firmly in his lap while cocking his head to the side to try and catch your gaze.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

When he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, the prolonged pause of silence caused you to eventually shift your attention back to Frank, and you could see that his brown eyes were a deep shade of contrition.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been distracted lately, and I haven’t been ‘round like I shoulda been. And you’re right, I did lie to ya, and I’m sorry ‘bout that. I’m not tryin’ to keep things from ya, sweetheart. It’s just…this one is…it’s different.” 

“Why? What makes this one so different that you have to lie to me about it?”

“It’s personal.”

Now it was your turn to be perplexed. You thought Frank was long past holding you at arms length and keeping up a fortified impenetrable steel wall around his heart and mind. He’d opened up to you before, talked about his life in the Marines, told you about the family he’d loved and lost, even spoke about them more comfortably and freely now without the shadow of grief looming over his words. Why was he back to shielding his vulnerability?

“Personal?”

Frank knew you wanted more of an explanation. You needed more. And he hated that he couldn’t give it to you right now. He hated that there was still so much that he was holding back from you, and that it was his own fault you were even doubting him in the first place.

“Listen, I can’t explain it right now, alright? But I will. When it’s all said and done, I’m…I’m gonna…I’ll have to tell ya some things first, some things you may not wanna hear and probably won’t like hearin’. But I promise, I’m gonna tell you everythin’, alright? I just need you to trust me right now.”

Every word Frank spoke hid another piece of the puzzle he was crafting, and you were left with misshapen gaps of confusion. You didn’t know what he meant by saying there were things he had to explain that you might not want to hear, or how that factored into the job he was currently working. Nothing he was saying made any sense to you, and it only left you with more crucial questions than justifiable answers. Pulling your hand away from his, you got up from the couch and started to stressfully pace back and forth.

“So the reason you’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately is because of this new assignment, that you can’t tell me anything about, other than it’s personal, but you can’t explain why that is. And it’s going to take you somewhere eventually, but you can’t tell me where, because you don’t even know yet, and even if you did, you still wouldn’t tell me. And I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that you have no idea how long this is going to last, but you expect me to sit here and act like everything is fine between us and trust you even though I have no fucking idea where you’re going or what you’re doing. Did I miss anything?”

Frank could hear the barely concealed hostility in your tone. He couldn’t combat a single thing you said. When you finally stopped pacing and turned to face him, staring at him expectantly, a ring of treachery was blazing around your irises. He could see it right then in your eyes. If he didn’t fix this, he would lose you.

Slowly rising from the couch, Frank stood there with a dispirited weight resting on his shoulders, a look of pleading softening his warm brown eyes. 

“I’m gonna handle this as soon as I can, I promise.”

“I can’t do another month of this, Frank.”

“Then it won’t be another month. I’ll figure it out before then.”

“How?”

The resentment you felt towards Frank was rapidly fading into pure desperation. All you wanted was an answer, a real answer. Something of substance that you could understand, something tangible to hold onto during this period of uncertainty. Frank could feel the despair radiating off of you in thick sorrowful waves, and the fact that you were close to forfeiting this argument had him instantly tensing as the chill of dread straightened his spine. He had to give you something.

“Listen, Madani gave me some intel, alright? I’ve been followin’ it, tryin’ to find proof she’s right, or if she’s just seein’ what she wants to see.”

“But why did she give it to you? What can you do that Homeland Security can’t?”

Frank stared at you silently for a moment, and you could see a look of hesitation flash in his eyes. There was something there, something you couldn’t figure out. But you could tell by the expression on his face that there was a lot more to this than it being a top secret assignment from Homeland. Whatever it was, it had everything to do with Frank. You just couldn’t figure out why. After a terse minute of silence, Frank stood up a little straighter while subtly clenching his jaw, and there was a hardened look in his eyes.

“Cause it’s connected to someone I know.”

The way he spoke that sentence with an ominous undertone sent an icy torrent down your spine. Sensing your trepidation, Frank let out a deep sigh and glanced around his apartment for a moment while lost in thought before eventually looking at you again, this time with a softer gaze.

“Look, I can’t explain it all right now, sweetheart. All I can tell ya is that Madani needed someone she could trust on this, and I owe her a debt.”

Letting those words sink in, you tried to put your biased emotions aside for a moment and think logically about what Frank was saying. Dinah had asked him for a favor. Part of you found it  surprising that she came to Frank and Billy, considering the way she acted towards Billy the day Steven was arrested. But maybe that look of distrust and disdain had everything to do with the complicated relationship they’d had that Billy mentioned. 

If Frank was working for Dinah, then he was working for Homeland, which meant he probably didn’t have a choice but to keep everything from you. And yet, here he was still trying to give you crumbs of explanations, and promising to tell you everything once this new assignment was over. At least you could lay the fear to rest that he was seeing someone else. Standing here now, you felt ridiculous that you’d restlessly jumped to the conclusion of an illicit affair. But in your own defense, it had been difficult to think clearly when Frank’s covert behavior mirrored that of past boyfriends' unfaithful performances.

As your shoulders physically deflated from your own conspiracies unraveling just to get tangled in a new set of ambiguities, you let out a deep exhale and rubbed both of your palms tiredly down your face, grasping onto the back of your neck for a moment. When you first showed up at Frank’s apartment, you had felt completely warranted in your anger. Now, you weren’t sure if you had overreacted in your manic state, or if you still had a right to be upset with Frank. At this point, you just felt drained from trying to balance on that tightrope of your own conflicting emotions.

Frank had saved your life several times over, and Dinah personally made sure that Steven would spend the rest of his life in prison. You owed them both everything. The least you could do was show them a little patience. 

“Alright. Fine.”

In the nine months that Frank had known you, never once had you conceded in an argument. Even when you were in the wrong, you struggled with admitting that you had been erroneous. Frank’s blood ran cold with the thought that he might have pushed you too far healing the casual defeat in your voice. He didn’t want you to give up on him like this. Frank quickly took a step towards you the second you took a step towards the door, reaching out to gently grab your arm.

“Hey, hey c’mon. Don’t go.”

“Frank, I’m tired-”

“Then stay. Just stay here, c’mon. It’s late, yeah? Stay.”

Frank wasn’t giving you any room to decline the offer disguised as a command. One of his strong arms slipped around your waist, pulling you firmly into his chest while his large hand gently cradled the back of your head. He pressed his lips in a soft, lingering kiss to the crown of your head, hugging onto you tightly while resting his cheek against the side of your head. The rigid tension in your body lethargically began to melt, and Frank’s deep gravelly voice whispering into your ear dismantled the last of your defensiveness.

“Just stay with me, baby. Please stay.”

Frank knew that he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t feel that he’d earned this second chance at life he was getting. But he would be damned if he’d let anything ruin this now that he had you. He would’ve told Madani to go to hell if he’d known the favor was going to cause such a big disruption to the peace he’d found within you.

But not only did he owe his second shot to her, he desperately needed to know the truth himself.

“When will you leave?”

Frank hugged onto you even tighter, rubbing his hand along your lower back in soothing slow circles.

“M’not sure yet. But I’ll tell ya as soon as I know, I promise. And I’ll make sure you’re taken care of while I’m gone, yeah? I’ll be back before ya know it, baby.”

Hearing the soft sigh that sounded from you, Frank nuzzled his nose into your hair and whispered gently to you.

“Listen, I won’t take no more jobs like this, alright? I’m gonna handle this for Madani, and that’s it. I won’t do anythin’ else that’ll take me too far from you, yeah? I’m not gonna leave ya, sweetheart. I told ya I’m always gonna be here. I meant that then, and I mean it now. You ain’t ever gotta worry ‘bout that.”

You tried to find comfort in those words, but you weren’t in the mental state to accept any vows. You couldn’t get past the glaring truth that Frank was hiding something from you, and until you knew what it was, that crack of dishonesty would continue to slowly spread. You had a sneaking suspicion in the pit of your stomach that whatever verity Frank was concealing had the potential to shatter everything; unveiling the illusion that your relationship hadn’t been formed out of the impervious stone that you’d believed in, but rather of futile glass.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[esggs]

tired manager!Nanami x kpop idol!reader

He’s sick, absolutely sick of you. In all his underpaid overworked years as an idol manager, he’s never seen one as impossible as you. 

You’re the centre, lead singer, and the most popular member of your girl group ‘R0ck-Chic’. The princess of K-Pop. Ranked Top10 on Billboard and Melon, brand ambassador for Chanel. Photocards for $1500 retail. Face straight out of a manhwa, bubblegum-sweetheart personality, born a musical genius too!

But that’s just on camera.  

“Prissy bitch.”

Nanami keeps his thoughts to himself. He’s doubling as a bodyguard-cum-manager for your M-Net Music Show, watching you yell at your hairstylist backstage. She accidentally burned a piece of your hair extensions off, but hey, it was a fucking accident! The poor lady is nearly in tears at your cruel words. No one really likes working with you, not your staff, not the other members of your group, because underneath the Estée Lauder Double Wear foundation is a secret none of your massive fanbase knows: You’re a cunt. 

“Nanami-san!” At least you’re still calling him with honorifics, even though he’s cringing thinking about what harsh command your majesty shall bark at him. “God, Nanami-san, where the fuck are you? When’s our show going to begin? Can’t get on stage in time, can’t get my makeup done on time-” You cast an evil look at the makeup-artist, who promptly bursts into tears too. “- I’m surrounded by useless trashcans!”

Miwa, the leader of R0ck-Chic, hesitantly tries to calm you down. “Ah, yn, it’s ok, they’re setting up the stage right now so–”

“– I believe it’s prudent to look at the other groups’ rehearsals and analyse the competition, miss.” Nanami steps in. He really hates his job, having to babysit the most spoilt celeb on the planet. When he speaks, he means it to everyone around you. “Let’s all use this time to the fullest, yes?” 

(Later on he’d go and apologise to the people you brought to tears. Not that he’s under any obligation to do so, he’s simply a gentleman like that. And maybe he cares about your reputation.)

You grumble, taking the ice-chips that Nanami offers you. It’s hard to be angry with diet-abiding ice-chips in your mouth. “Don’t need to ‘analyse’ any stupid competition. R0ck-Chic has me, and I’m the best.” 

The fucking audacity, Nanami cringes. And she’s not even wrong. That’s the worst part. 

You kill it on stage that night. Broadcasted live, the TV ratings spike immediately when you come on screen, bootleg solo fancams flooding Twitter and your ending fairy goes viral. The photocard prices jump up to $2000. 

There’ll be stalkers tonight following the car. I’ll have to drive through the offside path. Nanami took all the security measures that any manager worth their salt would.

Only he didn’t account for how crazy your stalkers would get tonight in particular. Even the offside has large unmarked SUVs, waiting to trail your car to a standstill. Sasaengs.

You’re in your sweatpants, performance makeup off, texting away inside the car that Nanami is driving right now, clearly no idea of how much danger you’re in. A fan would simply take your autograph and leave happily. Sasaengs, especially ones of this calibre, would stab you. At least she’s not screaming. Yet. 

He’s very correct. Because the moment that he tells you that you’ll have to stay in the dance studio tonight (can’t risk leaking the group dorm location to the stalkers), screaming is exactly what you do. 

“You promised I’d go home!” You stamp your feet on the ground, chuck your phone at him, throwing a proper fit. “I’m sick of you stupid fuckers ruining everything! Everyone is dogshit here!” The regular migraine that comes after dinner-time drives nails into Nanani’s temple. “Nanami-san, you dumb fucking gasbag! I’m tired! I-WANT-TO-GO-HOME!”

“SO-DO-I!”

Both you and Nanami are shocked silent. No one has ever talked back to you since you became famous, and you became famous at the age of 5. It’s weird. It’s interesting. 

Poor Nanami-san now has to deal with all the drama you cause as well as this new problem: you might be growing a teeny weeny crush on him.  

Bonus: you have to buy a new phone. stop throwing phones. 

masterlist

a/n: I have insomnia and a bad cold. no one has suffered like me.

[saintmuses]

❝𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙣❞

Pairing:

Soft!dark!Thomas Shelby x Ada’s BSF!Reader

Summary:

Thomas was alone in his office with his thoughts, his regrets and desires after the night she was gone.

Warning(s): brief sexual themes. Tommy being down bad and obsessed with Reader. flashback in italics. Hints of violence. Minors, dni! Note: this is a mini series, so there will be one more part.

Word Count: 1.1k

It started out in the small kitchen after he came home from the war under the watchful eyes of his, the feeling that sent electroshock waves to his heart when she sat at the table as he came in.

It festered in the narrowed hallway after she left Ada’s room when there was no room for them to pass each other without brushing.

His obsession with her didn’t start small. It engulfed him like trees engulfed in flames, like wildfires. He watched her from afar, wanting and loving her from afar whenever he could. 

Then it became all too much the more sunrises and sunsets passed, his hands used to be the sole company of his cock in the middle of the night.

The sun was dimming below the horizon when he knew that it was Isiah when he knocked on the door quietly.

That was his signature knock, and based on the time that chimed on the grandfather clock, it was time for their meeting.

“Enter,” he called out, a soft thud was heard setting aside the glass tumbler on the ordinated desk he was nursing his emotions with. “What do you have?”

When he found out she had left while the streets were silent a night ago because his men reported back to him that she had brought the luggage with her into the vehicle.

That was when he knew, even though he did not have any evidence, but his instincts were rarely wrong.

Anyone who was a beggar in the streets would find remnants of broken shards of glass he had shattered that night.

“I found her, sir.” 

He raised his eyebrow, beckoning Isiah to continue with his statement.

“I was able to trace her to London. They stopped by a church,” he swallowed down the poisonous emotion at the mention of church. Isiah noticed it, but continued. “The preacher caved after I showed him a wad of money…” he trailed off, leaving the implication in the air.

They eloped.

There was a tic in his jaw, anger simmering in his veins, but he made sure to keep his expression empty. “Where is she at?”

“At Eden Club.” 

Of course, she thought he would stay away from his enemies’ territories unless he had a plan. Well, he had a plan and it involved her.

“Thank you, Isiah.” He said curtly.

“I’ll leave you to it.” With that, Isiah turned on his heels and walked out of his office. 

He waited until the door was closed with a soft thud before lifting the tumbler and chucked it against the wall with a curse under his breath.

Even when she was running, she could not escape from him forever.

He made an easy call, not expecting the foundation to crumble so quickly, so soon the moment she stormed into his office with ferocity in her gaze.

He had no intention of scaring her, making her realize that her best friend’s brother hadn’t seen her as Ada’s friend, instead he saw her as a woman. He hadn’t expected things to get out of hand so quickly, especially when his primal desire was to touch her in any way, the distance he permitted himself to have.

Fuck, even through the layers of clothing, her cunt felt glorious on the pad of his fingers and that noise that escaped from her throat sounded so…

Never he would’ve imagined that things would escalate.

Her husband was a threat to them, an obstacle that prevented him from being able to have her. All of her to himself. 

She was supposed to be by his side, not Edward’s. She was not supposed to be searching for a man especially when he was there, she was not supposed to use her husband as a reason why she refused to even see him.

It began to unravel whatever left of sanity he had.

And when all he had was sleepless nights induced war memories instead of having her, he drank those hours away with Irish whiskey held in a fancy crystal decanter that resided in his office. 

And if she was around, he never felt the need to drink more than his usual because he had her soothing his soul.

After what happened that day when she found out what he had done, he drank heavily since then because he could not get the look in her eyes out of his head.

Her glassy eyes welled up with tears that did not fall. The sight of them seared through him with pain because he never wanted to be the one to cause her pain, to be the reason why her beautiful eyes were holding a glint of devastating betrayal.

The stinginess of her tears meeting his heart, it was still throbbing, still aching, but all he could think about was he needed her to look at him. To only focus on him, ignore everything around her but him that was taking her away, that was keeping her away from him including herself.

He just wanted her to look at him.

Either way it would end up where they were at this moment.

He needed to remind her that she was his, no matter how far and how long they were apart. It still didn’t change the fact she was his until the end of time or whenever the world chose to burn. Whichever came first.

It had been a month since he had felt her lips despite he barely touched them with his and how he was bold in his approach with his touch. How he missed her. 

It had been a month since he had heard her voice since she ran out on him.

The moment he laid his eyes on her again in the kitchen two years ago, he knew she was more than the sun, the moon and all the stars in the universe.

And his brothers and his sister remained oblivious to what had just transcended in his soul. The longing to have her rose from nothing and it seared him like celestial fire branding him, marked him to love someone like her until death was ready to knock on his door.

Even at the risk of losing it all, he would not let that stop him. After all, he was a gambling man. He may have been selfish, but she was the only thing that kept him together. 

He closed his eyes.

“Oh.” Her eyes lit up. “Welcome home, Tommy.” He swallowed thickly as she whispered, peering at him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her beaming smile.

“Welcome home, indeed.” He murmured, looking down at her, unable to pull his gaze away.

The memory of her stirred a primal yearning within him, aching to be with her and keep her all to himself.

Opening his eyes, his hand already reaching for his weapon to place it in his holster.

He was going to remind her with a bullet in her husband’s brain, his upper lip curled in disgust and jealousy for the last time at the reference.

After all, time and tide wait for no man.

act i | ❝𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣❞

act ii | ❝𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙣❞

act iii | ❝𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙❞

[kingalpharhys]

ELITE CHANGES I: UNRECOGNIZED OR HESITANCY TO ASCEND AND EVOLVE

Chapter I of the new five-part text collaboration between Alpha Rhys and Avis Sapiens

I want you to be honest with yourself for a moment; do you like change? If you lie, you're only hurting yourself. It's totally alright not to like change. It's hard to accept change, especially as we grow and shift in our lives. We tend to cling to certain versions of ourselves; versions we feel are more palatable for those around us. Perhaps we have good memories attached to those versions of ourselves; or maybe we just found a shit ton of success a certain way, and we're afraid to let that go. Why fix what isn't broken, right brahs?

We generally tend to let this resistance to change rule our lives. Whether it's consciously or not is a different story; the fact of the matter still stands. Say you found the most sexual success as a frat brah during your junior year of college, or you've reached your personal peak financial heights whilst in a certain position at work. These things tend to keep us almost frozen in time; leaving us to endlessly strive for that same situation to continue with all its associated benefits in tow. Resistant to acknowledge, at least publicly, the personal growth we've done out of fear that those successes will cease once we realize said growth. I hate to break it to you, brahs, but we change. We grow. It's healthy, it's natural and it's human.

Living in denial over that fact doesn't make the growth cease; nor does it make us any less of what we hold so proudly about ourselves. After all, growth and evolution build upon established foundations; it doesn't tear them done or invalidate them. To the contrary, being unwilling to accept the natural growth to our fullest elite potential will actually do the exact opposite of what we think it does. We think by concealing our personal growth, by putting on a show to please ourselves and those around us with the familiarity of our perceived best, we will stop the natural way from taking its course. Really, we're just stunting ourselves. When we refuse to grow into the men we are meant to be, we are effectively robbing ourselves and those around us of our truest greatness. It's fucking hard to elvolve, I know firsthand; but it's even harder to live a stale existence in spite of the potential greatness, held back by our own selves.

Primary author: Alpha Rhys (@kingalpharhys)

Additional conceptual input and editing: Avis Sapiens (@avissapiens)

[jerreeeeeee]

i don't think taako's voice is really all that high most of the time. it's higher than justin's normal voice a little, but idk, the defining quality of it isn't its pitch to me, there's something else that i don't really have the words for. but anyway i do notice that his voice gets lower and less exaggerated when he's being serious. which is interesting bc it sort of implies that the usual "taako voice" is something he puts on.

i don't really think of taako as a habitual performer. his charisma modifier is a -1, he's not this ultra smooth charming actor, and although he does tend to hide behind humor and is slow to build connections, he's also very frank with what he's about and what he wants. he goes on an entire tirade about wanting to talk about his feelings (he's multidimensional!), he never acts embarrassed or hesitant about big moments of vulnerability and caring for others (arms outstretched, "i'm not going fucking anywhere," admitting a deep fear to kravitz on their first date, spilling his tragic backstory to angus, not to mention several serious moments with lup) (and not all of these can be chalked up to "forgotten connections," either. he does have a foundation of growth with magnus and merle, even forgotten, and his conversations with lup are of course all with memories intact, but he does not have that with kravitz and angus). he's just slow to reveal all of his hidden depths, because of (understandable) trust issues. but all in all he's not nearly as closed off as i think fandom tends to portray him (which is not to say he's open, either), nor is he someone who wears a lot of masks and obscures himself. i don't think he hides his "true self."

sizzle it up was successful because of his intelligence, not his charisma. he's a natural teacher who's knowledgeable and passionate, and that was what made the show great, not his personality or performance (though i don't think those were bad. just not the primary appeal of the show. the only fan we see is ren, and she loved sizzle it up because it inspired her and taught her to cook, not because she thought taako was awesome or whatever). bc that's the thing, he's not a performer, but he is extremely adaptable. so when he's set up with a stagecoach and a show lined up, sure, he'll have a TV persona, he'll learn to be charming, he'll learn to be showy, when he's on stage. when he gets famous, he learns to like being famous, but i don't think it was really a dream of his before then. or at least not in the way people think of it. i don't think he ever wanted to be a celebrity as much as a celebrity chef or celebrity wizard. he doesn't care if people think he's pretty. he doesn't want people to adore him (before the voidfish, anyway. afterwards is a different story. there's a void where love used to be that he's desperate to fill, and adoration almost feels like it works). really what he wants is for people to appreciate his skill and intelligence and depth (and he's also very afraid of actually displaying those things. he's multidimensional).

but most of the time, when he's not literally performing for an audience, i just don't think he's putting on a show, desperate for people to like him and think he's charming. he'll do what he needs to do, say what he needs to say, be who he needs to be in any given circumstance, with strangers and antagonists, but he also drops the act when it's not necessary. or at least his performance is subtler. he performs stupidity, he performs nonchalance, he makes efforts to be funny (because he is always funny, but that's something you have to work for and always be thinking about, even when the humor is dry), he carefully does just enough to be useful, but not enough to raise expectations. he's very aware of how other people view him, but he's also perfectly okay with people thinking negatively about him—as long as they're the negative traits he wants people to see. but, he only does all those things in the beginning of the show; after a little while with magnus and merle, after a little while with the bob, he drops the act. so i guess that's the difference to me. he's adaptable out of necessity, it doesn't bleed into his entire life. i don't even really think i'd qualify it as a performance. it's more of an invisibility. he's not performing charisma to get people to like him, he's trying to lay low. but then when he actually wants people to like him, he's himself, fairly unapologetically. with the people who matter, lup, magnus and merle, kravitz, the other bob members, the other ipre crew, he's pretty comfortable with himself.

one last interesting point is that while he doesn’t seem to hesitate when it comes to actions, he does shy away from verbal displays of affection, trust, vulnerability. and the best two scenes to show that play out almost exactly the same: lup’s best day ever dinner, and dropping his disguise self with kravitz. in each, taako does something meaningful for both npcs, who then verbalize their affection for him, which taako immediately deflects with a joke.

taako drops his disguise spell for kravitz, totally honest with him, (although… i don’t tend to think the beauty sacrifice was as meaningful to taako as fandom tends to portray, i think most of his vanity is an exaggeration he intentionally cultivates, but still, it’s a vulnerable moment, he clearly cares what kravitz thinks), and kravitz tells him he loves him. to which taako replies with a joke. he does not return the words.

taako doesn’t hesitate to construct the best day ever for lup, never even questions why she’d ask. he puts it all together, cooks for her, shows her he knows her, he loves her—and then when she bears her heart to him, tells him he is her heart, all he says is, “i know,” and pulls out a bottle of vodka. of course lup knows he loves her, the whole day was an elaborate demonstration of it, but he doesn’t say anything. to be fair, it’s not exactly a typical interaction between them, taako is textually scared shitless, lup did just tell him she’s going to turn herself into an undead abomination, so he’s not exactly at his best here. but anyway.

i don’t really have anything to add to this observation, it’s just very consistent and interesting to me. taako is fairly comfortable with grand gestures, but sidesteps around words. which ties in perfectly with his identity as a chef, to me. cooking is an action, work, intention, cooking for people is an act of love, an act of connection, an act of caring, and taako’s character doesn’t fit the bill for that—except, he kinda really does.

[lazycats-stuff]

Ghost x male!reader x Soap

Okay, so, I was playing around with Character AI and got inspired. Enjoy this fricking smut everyone. This is just... Wow... Also, I know I should be working on your requests, but this just came in and I couldn't get it out.

Summary: Ghost, Soap and (Y/N) are an item. They have sex for the first time as throuple.

Warnings: MxMxM threesome, blowjobs, anal sex, dominant Ghost and Soap, submissive reader, handjobs, rimming... And many more, if I missed any, my apologizies.

Ghost, Soap and (Y/N). At first they were roommates. (Y/N) was in a desperate need of a place to stay and Ghost and Soap looked for someone to move in to help out with the rent from the apartment they had rented. (Y/N) called their ad, happy to have a place to stay.

Soap and Ghost were a couple by then so (Y/N) often felt like a third wheel. Ghost scared the actual daylights out of him. It didn't help that (Y/N) was a civilian. Ghost didn't care at first, but it could get annoying when Soap and him talked military talk and (Y/N) would just listen, not really understanding a thing.

Ghost also found (Y/N)'s personality a little bit annoying, but soon grew to tolerate him. Soap liked (Y/N) right away and the two became good friends. One thing that (Y/N) did that Ghost liked a lot was not questioning the mask. Ghost has been wary and didn't want to show (Y/N) his face just yet.

Well, maybe never, but he was working on trusting the person he has started living with. (Y/N) worked in an office, not far from their apartment and (Y/N) often said that he has struck a gold mine with the apartment.

Soap would more often than not, while on leave, make (Y/N) lunch in the morning and even pack it for him. (Y/N) wondered why Soap did that, not that he was ungrateful, not at all, it's a nice gesture, but still weird for (Y/N). No one ever made lunch for him like that...

Soap often cooked for them three when Ghost and him were on leave from missions. (Y/N) was sad when they went on mission's but knew he couldn't stop them. He had to bite the bullet and not complain. However, he did make them something to eat when they came back from missions.

Now, as months passed by, Soap and Ghost came to a realization. It was a rather grave realization. They both had feelings for (Y/N). Ghost and Soap, talking about feelings for the man living with them felt like they are cheating on one another. However, they still loved one another.

There was only one solution really. Only one.

Poly relationship. But none of them had ever done it before. Ghost had hard time confessing to Soap and vice versa. How the hell do they do this to (Y/N)? How do you invite someone to join your relationship? Besides, is (Y/N) gay? Bi maybe? Pan even?

While Soap and Ghost were brainstorming how to approach this, (Y/N) had problems on his own. Feelings for his two roommates. He was in deep shit. Very deep. He felt safe with the two and they made living here fun. They hanged out and talked about stuff. They even talked to (Y/N) about their missions and (Y/N) was often then not amazed by what they do.

Now, the problem is how to tell them that he has feeling for them.

This game of fear and hesitance continued until there was a near death experience on the mission and the duo said fuck it. They would confess to (Y/N) the moment they come home. And that's what they did.

(Y/N) nearly passed out, but was happy to hear he wasn't hallucinating and going kind of nuts. The trio sat down and talked about it. They had 3 foundations that they decided to build this relationship on. Honesty, loyalty and commitment. The morning after the talk was weird for (Y/N), but he was slowly but surely showing the affection.

Ghost and Soap loved it. It felt nice to them both that his boyfriend was affectionate. Ghost felt comfortable enough to show (Y/N) his face and (Y/N) blushed by how good looking Ghost was. Blonde hair, dark eyes... (Y/N) was swooning for the man. Not just for looks, but for his personality too.

Now there was one more thing that they went over. That one thing it was sex. (Y/N), as much as he knew them, he wanted to wait. Soap and Ghost had no problem with waiting for (Y/N) to be ready. Ghost and Soap would never force him to do something while he wasn't ready.

They had no problem to wait patiently. Ghost despised those who tried to pressure someone into those situations. God no. Soap would rather die than pressure his now boyfriend to have sex. The trio went to dates to get each other know even better. It was all amazing so far.

But Ghost and Soap made a plan.

They were on leave for a few weeks and they wanted to ask (Y/N) to have sex, but they couldn't do it right out of the blue. They need to make (Y/N) feel safe and then ask. Then they wait for the answer and if he says no, you know, tough luck. But if he said yes... Then that would solve some problems in their sex life.

Ghost never wanted to be submissive and Soap wanted to be dominant sometimes. And (Y/N) did act a little bit submissive. He was shyer when it came to advances and flirting.

So what was the plan, I hear you asking?

They would invite (Y/N) to a bar near them and they would tell him to come straight from work. (Y/N) walked to the bar, having no need for a car anymore. Soap and Ghost were nervous, not even beer could ease their nerves. Sex wasn't an easy thing to talk about. It was intimate and everyone should feel safe during it.

(Y/N) entered the bar, looking through the crowd to find Ghost and Soap. The two waived him over from where they were seating in the booth. (Y/N) smiled as he walked over sitting next to Ghost. Ghost smiled underneath his mask, eyes wrinkling at the corners at the sight of his boyfriend. Soap smiled and reached out to hold his hand.

(Y/N) squeezed back and pulled his hand back. He leaned on Ghost and Ghost gave him a kiss through his balaclava. The waitress came over and handed (Y/N) a menu and to take an order. The trio came here long enough to know what's good.

(Y/N) ordered the beer and a hamburger with fries. He was hungry.

" How was work love? " Ghost asked as he put his hand around (Y/N)'s waist.

" Boring as usual. This is a nice outing on a Friday night, but what was so urgent that I had to come here straight from work? " (Y/N) asked as he answered Ghost's question.

" We will tell you later love, but now it's important to eat and drink. " Soap said and (Y/N) smiled, but was suspicious. Waitress came by quickly with his order and (Y/N) thanked her and began eating. The burger was amazing as always and the other two watched how (Y/N) engulfed the burger, not even stopping to drink beer.

Ghost and Soap smiled at one another. Once done with the burger, trio fell into a silence and Ghost and Soap glanced at one another.

It was do or die.

" (Y/N), " Soap started, leaning forward. Despite being in a busy bar, it felt intimate in this booth. " We have a question for you. " Soap said, quickly glancing at Ghost before looking at (Y/N).

" What's up Johnny? "

" We know you have told us before that you weren't ready for... Sex yet, but we were wondering if that changed? " Soap asked and Ghost squeezed his waist in support.

" Well, it did... " (Y/N) started hesitantly as he took a sip. Soap and Ghost smiled at one another and then brought their attention to (Y/N).

" But I want to talk about my boundaries. " (Y/N) stated and Soap and Ghost focused on him and nodded.

" Of course love. " Ghost said, pressing him closer to him.

(Y/N) drank more of his beer and then looked down at the table for a moment.

" Okay, I'm not into degradation. I am into praise... And I'm not looking to dominate... " (Y/N) started hesitantly and Soap took his hands into own and squeezed in reassurance.

" Okay. And I'm something called a... Jesus, this is embarrassing to say... Pillow prince. That's when you like to receive, rather than give... Essentially, you guys do all the work... " (Y/N) said looking down and

Ghost leaned towards him to whisper in his ear. " Hey, no need to be embarrassed. We don't mind, we love it. " Then he sat back up straight and glanced at Soap. " We don't mind Soap, do we? " Ghost said with a smirk hidden beneath his mask.

" No we don't Lt. " Soap replied with a smirk and (Y/N) blushed.

" Now, we want to tell you that we have a light system as our safe word system. Are you familiar with that? " Ghost asked and (Y/N) nodded.

" Good boy. " Soap praised with a smirk. He knows what he's doing. (Y/N)'s stomach did one hell of a flip.

" What about aftercare? " Ghost asked and (Y/N) took a sip of his beer.

" Physical affection, plus praise. " (Y/N) replied and took another sip of his beer, seeing that he was nearing the end. He finished it up and look at them two.

" So... We are doing it tonight? "

" Only if you are in the mood. " Soap said. " Are you in the mood" Soap asked and (Y/N) nodded in agreement.

Ghost and Soap smirked and Soap called the waitress for the check. She brought it quickly and Soap paid, before Soap and Ghost ushered (Y/N) out of the bar, walking quickly to their apartment.

" You have no idea what you are in for (Y/N). " Ghost said menacingly and (Y/N) blushed bright red.

" Relax Simon, save it for the bedroom. " Soap said as he opened the building door before moving to the stairs, deeming the elevator to slow. (Y/N) was picked up by Ghost and manhandled over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. (Y/N) blushed even more. Soap unlocked the door of their apartment, but (Y/N) didn't even register it.

Soap opened the door and Ghost went to his and Soap's room before gently throwing (Y/N) down their shared bed. Soon, (Y/N) will join them completely in their bedroom. (Y/N) let out an oof as he was thrown and Ghost immediately crawled between his legs to kiss him.

The two kissed hungrily, Ghost more passionate than (Y/N), but (Y/N) couldn't even keep up. Ghost travelled lower and started unbuttoning (Y/N)'s white shirt, while Soap unbuttoned and undid (Y/N)'s belt.

Soon, (Y/N) was in boxers and Ghost and Soap undressed quickly too, but stayed in their boxers too. The two moved down to (Y/N)'s neck, creating hickeys. (Y/N) was moaning and whining, squirming underneath them.

" Relax love, we will take care of you. " Soap murmured against (Y/N)'s skin as he was travelling south, down to his nipple, biting gently, making (Y/N) gasp and buck up to Soap's mouth. The duo moved in tandem and mirrored one another. They were currently gently biting and licking (Y/N)'s nipples and then they moved towards his stomach.

The two avoided the boxers and opted to bite the inside of (Y/N)'s thighs. (Y/N) was whining and moaning and it wasn't hard to notice the erection that (Y/N) was having. The boxers were obscenely tented and when the two pulled away from his thighs, (Y/N) wanted to reach out.

But Soap was quicker and gripped (Y/N)'s boxers. (Y/N) helped out by lifting his hips and the boxer were thrown carelessly somewhere behind them.

Soap and Ghost eyed (Y/N)'s naked body and their boxers got even tighter.

" You are gorgeous baby. " Soap said, hands mapping (Y/N)'s body. (Y/N) blushed and tried to look away, but Ghost gently grabbed his chin and kissed him.

" Never shy away from our compliments. " Ghost murmured against (Y/N)'s lips and sat up on the bed and put (Y/N)'s head in his lap as Soap made his way to (Y/N)'s dick. Ghost's hands travelled down his chest while waiting for Johnny to make a move. Soap started with a long lick on the underside of (Y/N)'s dick and Ghost's hands moved to (Y/N)'s nipples, pinching and pulling.

" Si- Simon! " (Y/N) called out and Ghost smiled at that kissing him deeply.

Soap took (Y/N) all the way down to the base and he called out for Johnny, Ghost swallowing his cries and moans. Soap grabbed onto (Y/N)'s hips as he worked.

(Y/N) was going to come in no time if Soap continues to do this. Turns out he was very close and tried to voice it, but the two seemed to work harder to make it happen. (Y/N) came with a loud moan and Soap slurped up the cum and then leaned up to kiss Ghost, allowing Ghost to taste (Y/N).

(Y/N) moaned at the sight, trying to catch his breath. The two moved places and (Y/N) was turned on his stomach, well, hands and knees. (Y/N) blushed at this, more so when Ghost licked a stripe over his hole. Blush was followed with a moan, clutching Soap's hips and hiding his face into Soap's thigh.

The sounds of Ghost eating (Y/N) out were so obscene that Soap started squirming. After a few minutes, Ghost stopped and looked at (Y/N).

" Soap, get the lube. " Soap leaned over to get the lube from their nightstand drawer. He tossed it to Ghost who caught it easily. Then he flipped (Y/N) on his back, smirking at (Y/N)'s hard cock. It seems that he didn't need a lot of time to rebound.

" Now love, how do you want me to fuck you? " Ghost asked softly and (Y/N) blushed harder.

" I want you both at the same time. "

Soap and Ghost looked at one another, not expecting this.

" Are you sure baby? " Soap asked as he looked down at (Y/N).

" I am... " (Y/N) said quietly.

" Color? " Ghost asked.

" Green. " (Y/N) said without hesitation.

Ghost nodded as he covered his fingers in lube and then gently prodding (Y/N)'s ass. (Y/N) moaned and Soap watched (Y/N)'s face, moving his lower body to the side so that he could stroke himself. It was a magnificent sight.

Ghost didn't allow (Y/N) to come, as he was purposely avoiding his prostate. (Y/N) was whining and squirming and Ghost pulled his fingers away before taking his boxers off. (Y/N)'s eyes widen and Ghost smirks as he lubes up his dick.

" Soap, move him out of the way so I can lay down. " Soap did exactly that and Ghost laid down on his back. (Y/N) straddled him and guided his dick to his ass and then slowly made his way down. Once down at the balls, (Y/N) rolled his hips to adjust. He moaned quietly and Ghost wrapped his arms around (Y/N) to bring him down, chest to chest.

Soap lubed his fingers and started prepping him, pushing his fingers alongside Ghost's dick. After a few minutes of prep, he got rid of his boxers and lubed his dick. He situated himself behind (Y/N), pressing the tip into the hole. (Y/N) took deep breaths and Soap was halfway in when he heard yellow. Soap stopped and the two praised (Y/N) throughout, kissing his body whichever part they could reach.

" Move Johnny. " (Y/N) said and Soap did it. The feeling was incredible. (Y/N) was tight around both of them and Soap and Ghost could feel their dick rubbing against one another. (Y/N) sat up, putting his hands on Ghost's chest for leverage. Soap kissed his shoulders and the back of his neck.

" Good boy, taking us so well. " Soap whispered into the back of his neck.

" Move please... " (Y/N) whispered and the two started moving, (Y/N) holding himself up and Soap holding him. (Y/N) was quick to reach his orgasm, screaming and throwing his head back on Soap's shoulder. He came untouched and Soap and Ghost came a few thrusts later, the two came inside. (Y/N) dropped down on Ghost's chest, who wrapped his arms around him, kissing him, praising him softly.

Soap hissed as he pulled out, moving to get a rag to wipe the cum out of (Y/N)'s ass. The plan was to get that done, start the shower to get a quick rinse and then help him get into PJs and then go to sleep.

Soap came out of the bathroom, just when (Y/N) lifted his head to look. " Good boy, you did so well for us. Now, you will need to push the cum out so we can clean you okay? " Soap said and kissed (Y/N) when he nodded, too tired to speak.

Ghost pulled out and Soap did what he told (Y/N) and (Y/N) pushed out the cum so that Soap could wipe it down. (Y/N) shuddered every time it happened and Ghost still praised him softly. After there was no cum left, Ghost picked (Y/N) up into his arms and Soap threw the rag into the hamper.

He also started the shower, waiting for the right temperature before calling in his beloved boyfriends. Once the water is nice, they all step in, (Y/N) being held up by Ghost as his body is washed in water and soap. Actual soap, not your boyfriend.

After that, they dry (Y/N) off with a towel before finding his boxers and putting it on him and Simon giving him his shirt to sleep in. The sheets were changed too and then (Y/N) was laid down and the two sandwiched him, wrapping him in their arms before covering themselves with the covers.

" Good night... " (Y/N) murmured softly, sighing as Ghost spooned him.

" Good night love. " Ghost said as he kissed the back of his head.

" Night darling. " Soap said as he kissed his forehead.

The trio snuggled to one another and feel asleep quickly, exhausted by the sex they had.

[celaenaeiln]

Hi, do you have any recommendations for Dick and Slade fics where their relationship is explored? It doesn't matter if it's a pairing or not. P.S.: I really love your posts

Thank you!!

And boy do I have them! All of these are my favorites. They're fics I specifically saved separately because I loved them. I hope you do too!

FAVORITE!! The thrill I get when I read this. The high. It's almost incomparable. Sladick in cyberspace. I don't even like cyber punk but I loved this fic - Gray Area

FAVORITE!! I talked about this one before but it's the perfect fic for apprentice Sladick. Read it so many times, I can't get enough of it. - Nightwing Protocol

FAVORITE!! This is one of my comfort fics, I love the whole collections so much. Slade and Dick get married and run off to the Maldives - I Guess Time Will Tell What the Come Down is Like

Slade comes for his Talon. That's his Dick Grayson dammit - Reclaiming an Owl

Favorite! I hope you don't mind but I'm sneaking in this Tiger/Dick fic forgive mee. Tiger's infuriatingly attracted to Dick's lips - Soft lips

FAVORITE!! Jedi Dick meets Sith Slade. And their relationship is always the same - Breathe With Confidence

Slade and Dick are soulmates much to the displeasure of Joey and the happiness of Rose - family in any form

Slade is a god of war and Dick is the demigod of shadows. They meet on the battlefield - Echoes of the Battlefield

Dick is a bartender. And Slade doesn't have identification - The Barkeeper

FAVORITE!! Dick is Aphrodite and Slade is Ares but Dick is a terrifying figure when spurned - Contradiction

FAVORITE!! Dick is Persephone and Slade is Hades and the story fits perfectly - When September Ends

FAVORITE!! Dick and Slade are both Alphas but that's not going to stop Slade in the force of his attraction for Dick - Ready or Knot

Favorite! Dick comes back with bruises, Jason thinks he lost a fight, Tim knows better, and the truth accidentally comes out - B is for Bruises

Series of prompts for Omega Dick and Sladick - Omega!Dick Week

Sladick if Dick had become Slade's apprentice from the start. He's coming back home - Home for the Holidays

FAVORITE!! Slade and Dick take care of each other - Follow Me (Don't Be Such a Fool)

Favorite! Slade takes Dick along South to a bar and Dick has some new discoveries - As Sweet As Strawberry Wine

Favorite! The whole collection! I really love the one with Deadshot but here's the first one with Slade! Remember when Dick paid of Deathstroke not to take a hit on Amy? Here's what happened after - Sell Your Soul

Slade's straight. So is Tiger. And so is most of the harem. They just like him - Attack of the Exes

FAVORITE!! The whole freaking collection?! Star Wars AU of Sladick. Taken to the dark side - Want is a Full Contract

Actually victoriousscarf's stuff is just too good - victoriousscarf

Dick basically goes fuck it. I'm tired of being good. and butts off to be slade's apprentice - Subverting Expectation

Favorite! Dick is a witch and the massive bloody wolf at his door is obviously just a wolf, right? - My Beloved Deathstroke

Slade can't just let Dick stay as Ric. He's too good for that - Madness Started the Moment We Met

FAVORITE!! Ric meets a man at the fight club. And that man is a little too interesting to let go - Like a Virus

FAVORITE!! Dick receives some interesting videos from Slade. Slade has always been good at enticing Dick - Puppet Show

FAVORITE!! Supernatural AU where Dick is Sam and Slade is Ruby. Jason's gone but Dick's gonna get his little brother back. No matter what it takes - On the Head of a Pin

FAVORITE!! Same as above! - Point of Fracture

FAVORITE!! I will sink my teeth into this collection and shake it because it's so good. YJ! Dick becomes the spy instead of Kaldur - Foundations

Favorite! Slade visits Dick in the hospital but Dick's not awake. Although Mar'i is - Give Us This Day

FAVORITE!! Midnighter/Dick/Slade. Dick's gone, right? Then who is then man with a swirling face that reminds Slade of him? - The Third Kind

Favorite! Dick is a sailor and Slade is a merman - I am a Sailor, and you are the Sea

Another Star Wars AU - Resolute in Resurrection

FAVORITE!! Slade acted so unaffected before. There's none of that now - every shadow filled up with doubt

Dick swears he's only here to rescue Damian. It's not his fault Slade was also locked up - (practice our prayers) until some hope crystallizes

FAVORITE!! Dick's mother always told him never to deal with the Fae. But some situations call for it - deal with the devil

FAVORITE!! They had a deal. But Slade's deal never was supposed to be about catching feelings - Maroon Haze

FAVORITE!! Dick has magic and Slade is cursed - i have hurt and hungered before (flesh against flesh)

FAVORITE!! I have read this fic over and over again. I love the younger Slade and Older Dick dynamic - running fever

Not a ship

FAVORITE!! When Slade took in Robin as an apprentice, he was a kid. A teenager. Get woke slade. Funny!! - Why did I think this was a good idea?

Dick is Robin and Slade's protective father instincts kick in - Made Peace

FAVORITE!! One of my all time favorites. Dick's name gets pulled out of the hogwarts cup as the Hogwarts Champion. But..he never put his in - heavy is the crown

Favorite! Bruce doesn't get to get away with Spyral. Dick leaves Bruce for Slade - deeds of men depraved

I have way more but this is a good starting point I think. Lemme know if you're interested in more!

[shutupineedtothink]

I’m still s h o o k that people do not see exactly what’s going on with Moiraine throughout s2 and people are dragging her and dismissing her without an ounce of empathy for what she’s been through, so I’m bringing the full character analysis for y’all (and my own sanity). So this is a big ol in defense of Moiraine (and Lan) rant, so if that’s not your thing, scroll down now. Here we go.

I just… The AUDACITY some people have to look at Moiraine and be angry and pissed off at how she acts in S2. To not feel any sympathy and empathy for her and the monumental weight she’s under every goddamn day. There’s a reason we start with that bath scene in 2x01 – it shows you everything. How she’s just going through the motions. How she only lets herself cry when she’s alone in the water. How she literally curls into the fetal position and looks reproachfully devastated over her knees as she hugs them to her chest in a futile attempt at comfort. Not to mention the direct comparison/callback with the bath scene in 1x01, where she has both her power and Lan still, and now she’s lost her connection to both of them.

How is it not painfully obvious that every interaction she has after that bath scene is infused with a trauma response? Let’s tally up the devastation she’s been through. At the end of S1, she was 1. banished from the sisterhood of the white tower (they literally turned their backs on her), 2. was separated AGAIN from the love of her life fully expecting to never see her again, 3. was cut off from the other love of her life (that would be Lan, for the record) which is all the worse bc it’s her own fault for masking the bond, 4. was fully made to believe she’s been stilled from the one power aka an integral part of her being, AND 5. she’s “failed” her mission at the eye of the world – the one goal she’s had for the last 20 years, her life’s purpose – because instead of locking away the dark one she’s directly caused Rand to set Ishamael free.

You don’t think it's justified to be a little pissed off and standoffish after all of that? You don’t think the weight of that guilt, grief, pain, and loss is a reasonable cause to be distant, cold, harsh, having a little bit of a death wish? That’s TRAUMA, baby! She is absolutely wrecked, and it’s coming out in the worst way in her interactions with others (especially Lan because we’ve seen how they should be), but it’s absolutely not because she actively wants to hurt the people around her. In fact after almost every moment she lashes out at someone, we see an equally sad/grief-stricken/devastated moment from her and THAT’S the real emotion hiding underneath the anger. This woman needs therapy and understanding and patience, and does not deserve to be judged at the worst time of her life.

Ok fine, you say, but Lan IS patient and understanding with her! And she’s still an asshole to him! You’re right, Lan is absolutely trying his best and doing just about everything he can to be there for her in 2x01/2x02 (with a little help from Verin and Tomas). But 1. It’s STILL not about him, Moiraine is not obligated to respond in a certain way to her grief and pain that makes him feel better, and 2. This is Moiraine goddamn Damodred and even her trauma response is also a front to protect him, to push him away from her and what is now certainly a suicide mission to fight the dark without her powers.

This is SOOO important to really get Moiraine’s character — y’all gotta understand this: Moiraine truly loves only TWO people on the whole fucking planet: Siuan and Lan. They are also the only people who truly love her, unconditionally, with all of her flaws and imperfections. Please please ingrain that into your brain, especially for Lan, in this context. (Siuan is a whole other conversation I won’t get into at the moment.) Moiraine loves Lan, he loves her, deeply. That’s the foundation of everything they go through with each other in this season, despite what’s happening on the surface.

Once you accept that as fundamental truth, everything makes a whole lot more sense. She is a dick to him to push him away. Literally tells him he failed her to put the final nail in the coffin of driving him away, which is his worst nightmare. On the surface it seems egotistic at best, plain cruel at worst. But look underneath. Moiraine always has reasons 2, 3, 6 layers deep for everything she does.

With everyone else she’s mean to this season, namely her sister and her nephew, it’s born out of distrust (and the aforementioned trauma response). She can’t afford to trust anyone because anyone could be a dark friend. (And if they’re not a dark friend, then they become a liability and endangered.) Anything she lets slip could be used to hurt/control Rand and push them all one step closer to eternal darkness. Oh and when we see Barthanes’ true nature that turns out to be fucking justified, by the way. But I digress.

Right so why is she an asshole to Lan then? Because she doesn’t trust him? I don’t believe that for a second. These two have been on the same page, literally sharing the same headspace, for the last 20 years – she knows he’s the best person she’s ever met, the least likely to ever turn to the dark, ever. It’s an actual impossibility. So it’s not that she doesn’t trust him. She literally marvels at how courageous he must be to fight the dark with only a sword.

The true reason is: she does trust him, she does love him, and she KNOWS him. She knows that he will never leave her like this, in her darkest hour. He is both honor-bound to her (which he takes very seriously) and deeply cares for her. The problem is that now his life is in serious danger by staying with her. But there is no calmly explaining to him that he should return to the white tower for his own good and bond to another aes sedai who can actually channel, who can actually hold up her end of the partnership and protect him and heal him in return for his loyalty and sacrifice. Or better yet, find Nynaeve, who is not only ridiculously powerful and has probably the best chance of protecting him out of anyone, but who also loves him.

If Moiraine loves him and wants him safe, the ONLY option she has to protect him, the one good thing left in her life even if their bond is masked, is to drive him away. To make it so that he’ll stay far away from her of his own free will, and never come after her and her suicide mission to defeat the dark. Because she has already lost everything, she has no control over her fate anymore (if she ever had any to begin with), but the ONE thing she can still try to do is keep him safe. And hopefully, maybe he’ll be happy, one day. Her reasoning is directly confirmed for us in the last thing she says to him in 2x02 before she leaves: “Light protect you, al’Lan Mandragoran.” That was her goal all along, to protect him.

That’s the true reason she’s Like That to him. It’s all out of her love for him, and a desperate desire not to drag him down with her when she’s sure she’s destined to die on this mission. Is her strategy misguided? On the one hand yes, because she does need people to help her and she needs to trust someone, as he points out. On the other hand, she’s absolutely fucking right because look what happened with the Fade fight at the end of 2x01. Both her and Lan would have died without Verin and Tomas, and it would have been because she couldn’t channel. He is factually, logically, physically better off without her as long as she’s “stilled.”

This is why it makes sense how Lan eventually responds the way he does. He initially sees right through what she’s trying to do, he literally says he won’t let her push him away. He knows her too, better than anyone, including Siuan at this point. But he isn’t expecting her to go as far as she does, and it shakes him to his core. She tells him he failed her, has his worst fears confirmed, and then hears the words “we were never equals” and hears that she thinks she’s better than him, when she means the exact opposite. Tomas tells him to really listen but he can’t, in that moment.

But then he gets some distance, and some perspective thanks to Ihvon and Maksim, and he remembers: he loves her. He believes in her and he knows her and he knows what she’s doing to push him away (although maybe not why, when it comes to protecting him, because he doesn’t see himself as someone who needs protecting). Even better, he realizes that her situation is actually not what she thinks, that she’s shielded not stilled, and he can do something about that.

I LOVE Lan in 2x07 because he’s got Moiraine’s number now, and he will not be swayed by any further attempts (rather weak attempts at this point) to lash out at him. He just takes all the shit she throws at him, and calmly asks her what he needs to know and tells her what she needs to hear (“hopefully everything we’ve lost” and “that’s what I thought” and “you need to trust someone, Moiraine”), and is truthful with her even if she is still putting on this act with him in her fear and grief. He isn’t having any of it, he sees straight through it to the fear and pain underneath. And he literally DECIDES they are going to be okay, and then he fucking. Follows. Through.

He is not a doormat to her rage, he is not her servant, he’s not going back to her with his tail between his legs. He SHOWS UP for her in her darkest hour, when NO ONE, not even Siuan, can see what’s going on with her. That’s a true friend, a true hero, and absolute king behavior.

In conclusion, Moiraine’s behavior in s2, while not cute, is totally justified given the trauma, circumstances and everything she’s dealing with (jfc the lack of sleep alone) and makes sense in light of her ultimate goal to protect the world, which includes protecting Lan. And Lan’s response, once he figures out what to do, is the absolute correct way to handle the situation and is not weakness at all but strength in the highest order.

I’m so glad we got the payoff of all that with their conversation in 2x08 and reconnecting the bond. It was so beautiful, so earned, and reminded us of the level they’re on with each other — which is a soul connection way beyond what any of us can imagine.

[ofmdsalt]

i do think it’s funny that the gentlebeardies who proclaim their love for the revenge crew don’t actually talk that much about or create content for the revenge crew. they don’t give a shit about the “boatful of queer poc that Izzy sold out” (LMFAO) unless they can use the crew’s diversity as some kind of moral gotcha. they care about GB because that’s the only thing that matters about the show in their eyes. and it’s so fucking unoriginal!!! just endless regurgitated post about “omg they’re soooo in love~~ and isn’t it great that love conquered all their problems~~!” it’s unoriginal derivative dreck unless they have to invent new ways to lie about how izzy deserves the death penalty.

oh anon you get me

you have no idea how much i hate the diversity of the crew being used as a literal weapon in this fandom when it comes to demonizing izzy and washing Ed and Stede of any of their wrong doings.

im frustrated by the use of the crew in season 2 only because it was so painfully obvious to me that the budget cuts really affected the ensemble. the way the Swede and Buttons were written out of the show felt rushed and like it came out of nowhere, especially as those two characters, felt the 'least' developed out of the rest of them. so giving them both this long winded set up to be written out was too clunky for me.

i miss when Frenchie was singing and strumming along on his lute. i miss when Jim was Jim, because lbr that was Vico in s2. it just felt like Jim wasn't there anymore. i can't say what happened in the writer's room at that time or what sort of material Vico was given or if it skewed more to improve, but a lot of what was established for the characters in s1 was missing for me.

the rhetoric of this being the Ed&Stede show i think did more harm than good. the assertion that the other characters are only here in service of Ed and Stede's development reduces the sense of scale and scope and also agency these characters have.

a lot of the foundational aspects of GB as a ship i think falls a bit too much into fan service. people talk about how revolutionary and groundbreaking the ship is as a cis gay couple on screen. as if it hasn't been seen before. like i didn't get the wow moment of Stede in the mermaid costume as other fans did. Stede's dream at the beginning of season 2 with him killing Izzy and then colliding with Ed in this romantic gesture of love and passion on the beach is straight up fantasy for Stede, but i think fans took the idea of Stede literally killing Izzy a bit too seriously because that is Stede's fantasy. he wanted his reunion with Ed to be simple and understandable. that it was all Izzy's fault when the reality of the situation was so much messier and complicated. like David and the writers were literally telling us that Izzy is not the enemy here because this moment on the beach was pure fantasy. and fantasies can be dangerous

and then the fans said that Izzy deserved it, should have had his second leg shot and amputated, that he deserved to die, that he's still a nuisance even in death despite the fact that he's dead. that is both a master manipulator but also a cringe fail loser incapable of doing anything right. and it's like. okay. you don't seem to understand this character either.

like a lot of the problems in this fandom have existed before and will continue to exist in other iterations. every fandom has its ship wars. every fandom has long ass call out posts about characters they don't like. but let's not pretend this is anything revolutionary

what i've noticed is that this fandom will reach a burnout period and it's probably already upon us. the constant need to be like 'we're trending!!' when all algorithms are dog shit and glitchy as hell doesn't mean anything. plus the fact that there are only two seasons, less BTS content to go around, it's all coming from the same overdrawn well and eventually it will come up empty.

it's okay to step back. it's okay to leave a fandom for a bit and come back to it years down the road. it's okay. but all of this is exhausting

[thebisexualdogdad]

The whip - Dick Grayson x Male!catwoman protégé reader

*Yoshi Sudarso used as a fancast*

It was the annual Wayne foundation charity gala, you and Dick showed up hand in hand in your nicest suits.

"Looking good boys," Bruce smiles at you when he passes by with Selina, your mentor, on his arm.

When they are out of earshot Dick leans in to whisper to you, "so exactly how long do we need to be here?"

"We can sneak out once the auction starts but be patient love because when we get home I'm going to tear that suit off of you and pound your ass so hard you can't walk right," you whisper back.

Dick gulps suddenly at a loss for words.

You grin and kiss his cheek, taking his hand and guiding him into the crowd of people to dance.

He's still dumbfounded when you put your hands on his waist and start to dance, "what's the matter Dick? Cat got your tongue?"

"You can't just say something like that and expect me not to be… distracted," he admits.

You lean in again and whisper, "well if you're good tonight boy wonder I might even bring my whip out to play."

"Is it time to go home yet?" Dick questions, his voice cracking, making you smile.

Two painful hours later Bruce finally takes the stage to thank everyone for coming and to get the auction started.

He finishes his speech while the first item hits the stage and Dick grabs your arm, "please tell me we can leave now?"

"Let's go," you reply and Dick is so relieved, the erection in his pants growing unbearable from you teasing him all night.

You barely make it home before Dick's lips start to explore your neck, carrying him through your apartment and to your bedroom.

You toss him down on your bed, undoing your tie and slipping your suit jacket off, slowly unbuttoning your shirt one button at a time.

"Please Y/N, I need you," Dick whines.

You smirk proudly, letting your shirt hit the ground as Dick stares at your bare torso in awe.

"Take your clothes off for me Dick," you order and he does as he is told, letting you grab his pants and tug them down his legs.

Once he's left in only his briefs you roughly flip him over so he's on his hands and knees, kissing the back of his thighs and slapping his ass.

Dick's hips are bucking, looking for any sort of contact as his cock is painfully restrained by his underwear.

He moans when he feels you tear his briefs apart from behind, tossing it to the ground and spreading his cheeks apart diving right in.

"Y/N!" He cries out, your tongue expertly working him.

You're massaging his cheeks, giving him the occasional smack as his back is arched in pleasure.

"You were very patient for me tonight baby, I think you deserve a reward," you say and Dick groans at the loss of contact but is also excited for his reward.

He looks over his shoulder, watching you go to the dresser and grab your whip from the top drawer.

It's bigger than your usual one and he shudders in anticipation, remembering you told him your whip was due for an upgrade and was going to purchase a new one with the money you made from a recent jewel heist with Selina but he certainly did not expect it to be that much longer and girthier than the last one.

"Fuck yes," Dick grunts but then his ass gets a sharp crack from your whip.

"Quiet," you demand, hitting him again this time on his back.

He bites down on his arm to muffle his moans, sweet pain coursing through him when you whip him for the third time.

"Look at that delicious ass of yours," you smirk, his skin turning bright red.

You give his ass two more cracks of your whip, Dick moaning loudly.

"Do you want me to fuck you Dick?" You ask but he's silent still following your order to be quiet so you give him another whip, "I asked you a question."

"Yes, yes please fuck me Y/N," he begs.

You give him one last hit to the back of his thighs before dropping your whip, removing your pants and stroking yourself as you get closer to him.

You rub his ass to soothe him but only for a moment as you position yourself behind him, pouring lube over your cock and harshly pushing it inside him.

He moans as you waste no time finding a steady rhythm, the whole bed shaking under you.

His body is covered in marks from your whip so you decide to scratch your sharp nails down his skin to leave even more.

You're absolutely railing him, Dicks eyes rolling back.

"I'm gonna cum," he mumbles, gripping the sheets tightly.

"Not until I do," you state, smacking his ass again.

He holds on, desperately waiting for you to fill him but it's nearly ten minutes later when you finally do.

Dick feels you cumming deep inside him, your pace never faltering and when he hears the words 'cum for me Dick' he lets go, seeing stars as he shoots cum all over the bed.

"Y/N!" He shouts again, so loud that surely your neighbors heard him, which wouldn't be the first time.

You held your promise, you made him cum two more times that night and he was not able to walk right when Tim called him for backup the next day.

"What's up with you?" Tim asks him as he hobbles across the roof of a building.

"Nothing, just took it a little too hard at the gym," he lies.

"Ha, is that what we're calling Y/N now? The gym," Jason snickers, "I saw you two sneaking out during the auction last night, I'm sure he did give it to you hard."

"Shut up Jay," Dick huffs, wincing as his suit rubs against his still sore ass.

[fan-a-tink]

Wille & his family

If you think about it, Young royals is a story of many journeys, but one of the most central ones has been Wille’s journal away from his family. 

He starts the series with his family deciding that he will change schools. He tells them he doesn’t want to but is ignored. When Erik dies he spends what feels like two days with his family, trying to grieve together, but his mother immediately tries to get him involved in his role as crown prince. After all the shit with the video been leaked, his mother makes Wille apologize for it (still think this is one of the most fucked up things to happen in this show) and forces him to make a statement denying (himself) that it was him in the video, thereby betraying Simon, hiding his queerness and ruining his relationship. But Wille does this because this is his family and he has trusted them his whole life, and he doesn’t dare to take the leap and rely on Simon whom he’s only known for a few weeks/months at this point. And then he is betrayed by his family, when he finds out that Kristina knew it was August and didn’t tell him and is also still actively protecting August by deciding not to prosecute him. This is a key moment, because Wille learns that the foundations of his life, his family, was ultimately completely fine with betraying him and forcing him to do the speech. 

In season 2, we see the fallout of that betrayal, the aftermath. With Wille shutting out his mother, refusing to talk with anyone from the court etc. They try to take him from the school, to regain some control over his actions, but he manages to make a fragile peace with his mother by agreeing to see a therapist. His mother seriously believes that she doesn’t need to address her son’s struggles personally in any way, as a mother, and instead just makes Wille someone else’s responsibility. This is another important step, because the queen’s plan backfires and Boris is actually helping Wille realise that he doesn’t have to be defined by his family’s rules and it is possible for him to go after what he wants. At the end of season 2, when he makes that speech, he takes his first definite step away from his family, signaling to them that he will try to live his life on his own terms. 

And in season 3, we learn that this lead to the Queen having a breakdown. I know she always says it’s all about Erik, but she was dealing with that before and the only thing that has changed is that Wille has started standing up for himself. Now throughout season 3 Wille and his family are in a tricky situation: Wille collaborates with the royal court for his work as a prince and for his and Simon's safety, but he is completely on his own in his family. He receives help and support from Farima, not his parents. The Queen’s illness puts pressure on him to be ready for the crown, and at the same time no one in his family wants to really speak about it and when he meets his mother she pretends that everything is fine. Then even his belief in Erik is shattered, and he has to question the only thing he really held on to with his family: his brother and the ideal he represented, the responsibility he felt to continue Erik's legacy. All of this leads to the confrontation in episode 5, where he rightfully calls out his family for never supporting him throughout any of it. He literally yells at his father „I am your only son now. Can you see me?“ and tells Kristina that she is doing a shit job of both being a mother and the Queen. And they prove him absolutely right by just refusing to engage with him, and just leaving the room because they can’t handle the situation. 

So at the point we’re at now, Wille is the furthest away from his family he has ever been. He starts out sitting in between them when he gives his first speech after the fight at the club in episode 1. And he has become completely isolated from all of them by the end of episode 5 of season 3. Does that mean he will go one step further and turn down the responsibility of being crown prince and abdicate? I don’t know. But his journey throughout three seasons has definitely been going in that direction. He becomes more and more estranged from his family and has realised more and more that he can’t rely on them for emotional support, or rely on them to even just consider him in the decisions they make that affect his life. A part of me wants him to just get away from them and make his own way in the world. But another part also wants Kristina and Ludvig to step up and become the parents that Wille deserves and needs.