#believing that your parents just dont know any better

[clownzaf]

I know that people love to headcanon Tim as a child of Athena, I personally like to headcanon him as child of Hades due to his similarities with Nico and the fact that dead seems to follow that kid like a motherfucker but never actually reach HIM.

But hear me out.

Tim as a child of Dionysus. And he gets claimed during the Bruce-quest.

When he was in Gotham monsters were a usual thing. You never knew that they were there for your godly blood, you just thought that they were things created by pollution or something like that. And when he became Robin fighting things that wanted to kill you while saying weird things was more usual than a hug (not that that was a hug standard for Tim).

But then everyone started dying. His parents, Kon, Bart, Steph, BRUCE. Everyone. Every. One.

And Tim…Tim couldn’t seem to reach madness. I mean YEAH he wasn’t doing great by any standard, but he knew madness, he grew up in madness, and he wasn’t going mad.

The cloning was just a treat.

And during the Bruce-quest, everyone thought he was crazy, he was casted away because everyone thought he was crazy CRAZY Tim can’t he crazy! He knows that! He knows that in his blood that going crazy isn’t a chance for him. He made everyone crazy when they were around him (hence Jason. He knew that Jason was mad at him from the start, but going near Tim lighted a flame inside him that Tim is sure isn’t completely Jason’s) but Tim couldn’t go crazy. He could ACT crazy. But never too serious.

And then, in the depths of Greece, he met his dad. His real dad.

He always knew that Jake wasn’t his dad. The blonde hair his mother forced him to dye since he was 5 and the purple eyes his father forced him to hide with contacts told him that. But Tim grew up looking up at Jack, even if Jack didn’t love him, he was the dad that decided to (figuratively) stay. And Tim loved him till death.

But when that man appeared, Tim knew, with only a moment of stares, that that man was his father. They talked a bit, too. The man knew about everything Tim was doing, and that creeped Tim out, but when the man made appear a glass of wine for Tim (and one side for himself) and Tim drank it, he knew what he was.

Something on the flavor, on the feeling. It was Tim. It was home. Something he hadn’t feel in a long time.

He spent the rest of the quest feeling sure that he would make it, because somewhere on the heavens his dad was looking out for him, he promised he was. And this time it wasn’t a figuratively sentimental bullshit. His dad was really helping on the heavens. And Tim was gonna make it.

He saw him again when the quest ended. He appeared in all of his godly glory while Tim was living in the nest. He opened a can of soda and sat on his couch like he wasn’t a man Tim has only met twice, but that was ok, because that was his dad, and he was choosing to visit him. (Also, he wasn’t going to say no to a literal GOD) .

He yapped for two hours about the kids at the camp his dad forced him to work at ( “HE IS SUCH AN A-HOLE SOMETIMES TIM YOU DONT UNDERSTAND-“) and the more he talked about that camp, the more invested Tim got. At the end of it the man, his dad, just looked at him in the eye and said “y’know if you were there we could do this more often. Yer a better listener than that centaur. Also, I think your brothers would like having you there”

He leaves immediately for camp after that. The family thinks Tim decided to leave them for not believing in him, so it’s a shock when he comes back after the summer being great with a sword and with a Tan his skin haven’t known before, not even after fighting crime during the hottest days on San Francisco, and he was happy, like actually happy. A kind of happy he never was with them.

Tim made friends there. He was friends with Annabeth, a girl from the Athena cabin, who honestly thought that Tim was one of them after they had a talk about strategies on the field and all that, and was about to fist fight Dionysus for claiming one of her brothers. She still called him brother, but now she understood that Tim was a Dionysus kid. And her boyfriend Percy. They talked all night about the weight of being a leader and having your people die without you being able to do anything. Percy talked about a boy named Ethan and two girls named Zoe and Bianca. Tim talked about Steph, Kon and Bart.

Tim told him about the Bruce-quest, and Percy told him about the time he was ready to fist fight a good to get his mother back from the underworld.

He also fully loved his brother. Pollux was great and made him feel welcomed to camp. They talked during lunch and Pollux showed him every single thing that made camp especial. He also teached him how to make fun of their dad without turning into a dolphin, so yeah. They got along like a house on fire.

He also made friends with a girl from the Aphrodite cabin. Her name is Drew. She was kind of an asshole and tried flirting with him, and THEY DID GET TOGETHER FOR A BIT, but after some time they decided they were better as friends. And friends they were. Best friend even.

He never told the Batfam any of this.

So after some months in Gotham there’s a cult going around calling themselves “Children of Dionysus” and doing atrocious things.

Duke walked in on Tim trashing the training room of the cave, and later on Jason walked in on Tim having his fourth bottle of wine.

Tim was FURIOUS. Not only that was disrespectful to his dad, but to his brother and himself too. He was going to pick every part of that little cult and trash it.

There he meets Bernard. Then they get on a relationship.

When a sathyr comes to take Bernard to camp Tim goes with him, excited to have his dad meeting his boyfriend.

Dionysus has never been more uncomfortable than when he had to claim his son’s boyfriend in front of him. It wasn’t that hard before! But now they had those things against incest on the human world and he knew this wouldn’t be pleasant to any of his sons.

[furiousgoldfish]

Hello, so I checked the checklist thing and I realized that the things I experienced aren’t normal but I also don’t think my parents do this intentionally. I think that this is just the only way they know how to do things, like they just don’t know anything else. Neither of them had particularly good parents so I just don’t think they realize that some of the things they do aren’t good. They try their best to be supportive and stuff but they do control some of my things and hit me when I do bad things, I’m a minor btw. I think that since they grew up with that they think it’s normal.

Yeah I get what you're saying! I felt these exact same things as a minor, and could see very well that from the perspective of my parents, they are doing what they think is correct, and it's how they've been taught, and of course there's no way for them to know they're doing damage or neglecting you because this is all they know.

However, from an adult standpoint, I know that parents are responsible for taking care of their children, and that neglect, ignoring issues, or particularly hateful and cruel behaviour is very obviously, not a mistake or just parents 'not knowing how to do any better'. They know how to treat other adults as human beings. They know to be polite and sensitive with their boss, with people they're trying to impress. They know to be kind to their guests and relatives they want to be in good graces of. They know how to take care of themselves and give themselves the attention and care they want, and even get other people to do it.

While it's impossible for children to know better than they've been taught, adults absolutely know better, and you know, even if nobody ever taught them directly, they could have, picked up a book on parenting! They could have shown interest in gentle parenting or looked it up, they could have researched all possible illnesses and signs of trauma and distress on their child - btw I did all of those things, even not planning to have children, I read those books, I researched those things, just for a mere chance that one day I end up caring for a child. It's not out of this world to expect parents to give a shit about learning how to parent! To just repeat whatever their parents did to them (which they often complain was so tough and cruel and hard on them) is an excuse to be willfully neglectful, willfully abusive.

When you're a kid, you're convinced that you're doing a perfect job of hiding just how alone, sad, scared, upset and traumatized you are, but to an adult it's pretty obvious, you're not really capable of hiding it that well. And it begs the question - why do kids even hide it, why do they conceal their fear and pain? The answer is, because they've been trained to, because they've been punished for expressing that same pain in the past, because they've been humiliated, hurt, ignored or attacked for it. So the mere fact that you are concealing how their parenting is affecting you, proves that they did something to compel you to hide, to not bother them with your needs and fears anymore, they don't want to be responsible for taking care of it, for being your parents.

I know I made a lot of assumptions here, and I'm sorry if this is all completely out of the mark! It's just that I could have written this ask myself as a minor, and I thought these exact things, and then later on it turned out I've been groomed to think like this, and to not see abuse or recognize it at any cost. If it feels dangerous or wrong to acknowledge the abuse, or to hold your parents accountable for it, you can just ignore this for now, and not think about it. It is sometimes, dangerous for minors to be aware, or to try to call it out, and if that's your case, I support you to just survive the best you can, believing in whatever brings you the most comfort. Because this is not your responsibility to fix, this is not your fault, this is not shameful for you, or a sign that something is wrong with you, you are fine, you're doing exactly what you're supposed to, you're surviving. Keep holding on.

[vaguehotels]

had the most braindead repetitive conversation/argument with my parents. buzz cuts are too masculine but if you dye a design on it it become effeminate which is bad because then you look weak and if youre weak then society falls apart (all societies ever that have fallen apart for any reason are actually because of feminine men) and we start sacrificing babies. and also all mental illness is invented because only 4 people had anxiety in the 90s and covid was made up so that we would all become gay and trans and then the government can control us better and be joe biden's little sex slaves. and also i need to keep my hair long because my father finds it attractive. what

[snekdood]

idc if ppl think im problematic i just want it to be for the actual real reasons i am

[arolesbianism]

If I ever do get properly into dst character modding I like have to make an oni character mod at some point, but the issue is Id want it to be an Olivia mod so bad but also Nails is as far as I'm aware the only legal character name wise and as such it feels like it has to be them, y'know for the bit. But also I have already written too much Olivia dst dialogue and I need an excuse to use it damnit

[onskepa]

Hi how are you? If you want, could you tell us what your headcanons would be for what the Sully children's relationship would be like with a human/avatar mother who was mated with Jake and Neytiri? Thank you very much, have a great day!

I can see a lot of possible outcomes for this one! So here ya go! Enjoy!

P.S: Reader will not be given a name in this one, instead she will be called "small mama"

Pinnacle protection

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

Pinnacle motherhood

Right off the bat, the whole family loves their third mother, second mate. Jake sully couldn't ask for a better family, and better mates. Especially his little human mate. Neytiri will agree with him, while yes she has her children to hug, her little mate is just what she needs. Something small yet full of love just for her. 

Now like any trio, there is a balance between the parents. Jake is the head of the family, the brains with his clever ideas. Neytiri at times can be the brains but most muscle due to her skills in fighting and hunting. And their beloved human is the heart of the family. Keeping everyone together. 

And like any child, the sully kids will have favorites. And their favorite is their amazing human mother. She is the most fun, loving parent any child could ever ask for. Are they not getting their way with Jake or neytiri? To mama it is! And mama will always fold by the simple look of her kids. 

Another thing about their favorite mama, they all believe she has the power to read their minds. How else would it explain she knows their next move? 

Lo’ak and tuk can recall so many instances where they were barely forming an idea only for their mama to say “dont even think about it” or “it is not worth the trouble”. 

For neteyam, as he is the oldest he does try to be a good example for his mischievous siblings, along with holding so many responsibilities, but he can always count on his small mama for anything. Small mama consoles him, talking about anything neteyam has his mind about. 

Unlike Jake or neytiri who neteyam has to put up a strong warrior face, with a small mama he can revert back to being a baby with her. He feels safe and be a kid again with her. And small mama always called him her “little baby boy”. Neteyam won't admit it but he likes it when she calls him that. 

For kiri, she definitely adores her small mama. She is closer to her third parent than she is with neytiri. Not to be mean or anything. But with Jake, Kiri can talk about what odd things happen around her, ask her about her mother and stuff but with her small mama. Well, she can express far more with her, be free to say anything not be judged upon. Kiri can dare say small mama understands her more than anyone in the world.

With tuk, the baby of the family. Why, she loves to be the taller one, it makes her happy. Of course she would never tease her small mama that she is taller, but small mama would call her “tiny tuk”. A name tuk loves and will glady flex it for some reason. 

If tuk can't go somewhere with her older siblings, small mama would personally take her anywhere she wants to go. As long as it is safe. With small mama, everything is fun and never boring. Tuk loves the times where her hair is braided or she braids small mama’s hair. 

Now, if small mama would use her avatar, nothing much would change. Except that now the kids will demand piggy back rides. Tuk or lo’ak would be front of the line for that.  

Hunting would be easier and much more fun with jake and neytiri, running, riding their ikrans, less risk overall. 

Even with her avatar, she is still short compared to her two mates. She is smaller than Neytiri by 9 ½ inches. Not something she is super thrilled about. No matter what body, she is still small mama through and through. 

Small mama is forever grateful to live her best life with her family, loving them and saying her thanks to Eywa for blessing her to be the best of her two worlds. Through hardships, through trials, small mama has a mighty heart and a roar of an ikran. Yes sometimes she might be stressed or frustrated but life is not perfect. Small mama knows that all too well. But there is nothing better than what she has. 

[damiansgoodgirll]

IM SAT FOR DONT BREAK MY HEART PART 5 🖤💖

part one, part two, part three, part four

damian priest x reader (platonic), rhea ripley x reader (platonic), the judgment day x reader (platonic), drew mcintyre x reader

‼️angst, crying, nightmares, flashbacks, panic attack, rhea gets violent, family issues, domestic violence, verbal violence, fear of abandonment, fear of loneliness, reader being self conscious, a little longer than usual, SORRY IT’S ANGST DON’T READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE‼️

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!

don’t break my heart - part 5

“stop that nonsense y/n” your mom laughed in the background while you were talking about your future with your father “you’re gonna be a doctor or a lawyer, maybe a teacher too, you’re gonna have a good education and find a job, you’re gonna find a good husband and you’re gonna give him the future he deserves for providing for you”

“what about the future i deserve? what about my plans? my dreams?” you screamed for the millionth time that day.

“the world isn’t made of dreams y/n. the world is made of fact and it pains me that you can’t get that into your silly brain” she laughed off “being a wrestler means not having a stable place to say, means travelling around the world and being always broke and your father and i can’t support you till you’re dead” she said, sitting in front of you at the kitchen table where you and your father were talking before.

“i don’t want you to support me forever! i’m not asking you to do that! i’m just asking you to be supportive of my dreams and-…”

“i said stop that fucking nonsense! you’re not going to be a wrestler! i don’t know who put that idea into your head but it’s never going to happen!” she screamed, slamming her hands on the table, making you flinch.

“dad please…” you didn’t want to sound weak, but your father took your side most of the times. except, not this one.

“your mom is right y/n, you need to open your eyes about the world we live in. it’s not made of rainbows and dreams. the faster you learn this, the sooner you’ll apply for college and get a degree and then a job, the happier everyone will be” he tried to be more gentle with you but still, he was siding with your mom and you couldn’t accept that.

“so what do you want me to do? settle for a life that i don’t want?” you asked, tears in your eyes.

“you wanna be a wrestler? then start training because those chocolate bars you hide in your room aren’t doing you any favour” she laughed making you look up at yourself in the mirror in front of the table “oh don’t be so focused on that y/n, you look good but you will look even more fabulous once you’ve got your first belt” she laughed, poking at you, making fun of you.

“mom!” you almost screamed “why are you being so mean?”

“i’m not being mean y/n. i’m just telling you the truth! imagine going out to the country club and telling our friends that our daughter is a wrestler” she joked with your dad, making him laugh “it’s gonna be so embarrassing”

“so this is what is about?” you couldn’t believe your ears “you’re embarrassed! you think i’m gonna make you look good because if i become a wrestler you couldn’t brag about how your daughter it’s better than your friends daughters! because everyone of them have their destiny written and they can’t say no! it’s because you couldn’t handle me choosing what makes me feel good because you didn’t have a choice!” you raised your voice, making both of your parents angry “you didn’t have a choice mom! but that doesn’t mean i can’t have mine!”

“y/n don’t fucking raise your voice at your mother!” your father screamed. you didn’t like when he screamed. he always turned to be violent at some point.

“i made my choice! i wanted to stay at home and being a housewife because that was what was better for this family! for us!” she spat back.

“no, you chose to be a housewife because you got knocked up” but before you could even say anything else, a loud slap echoed through the room. your father’s hand still too close on your face while your mother stood back.

“that’s enough! i told you millions of times that you don’t have to scream at me, or at your mother. now, you either apologise to us or you’re gonna be in big troubles” your father said but you were tired of being controlled by your parents. you were tired of being their toy. so you simply left and hid into your bedroom.

both of your parents follow you up on the stairs, trying to open your door “get this door open or i’m gonna break it y/n!” your dad screamed.

“i’m tired!” you screamed from the other side of the room “i’m so tired of you not listening to me! i’m so tired of you choosing for me! it’s my life and i wanna make my choices, i wanna make my mistakes and learn from them! you are my parents and you should be supporting me not pushing me down! this is my life and i wanna live it the way i want it! being a wrestler is all i want and you can’t keep this from me!” you were crying at this point, your voice cracking everytime you spoke.

your dad broke the door down, entering your room with your mom and start searching for something. when he found a backpack, he gave it to you “fill this with some clothes”

“what?” you asked in disbelief.

“don’t make me repeat things twice. fill this with your clothes, brushes, books, anything you might need, and do it quickly!” he screamed again making you jump “you wanna be a wrestler and yet you’re scared of people arguing” he laughed.

you did as he told you, not even caring what you were packing. once he was satisfied enough with how full your backpack was, he dragged you down the stairs and into the living room, your mom following behind “you wanna be a wrestler?” he asked, waiting for your response.

“more than anything in this world…”

he dragged you to the front door, opening and letting some of the rain wash the entry carpet “then go! go live your dream and don’t come back” he was pushing you out and you were trying your best to resist him but he was bigger and stronger so it took you no time to push you out and leave you in the pouring rain “you wanna be a wrestler? go! but don’t expect us to welcome you back once you miserably fail…”

“what? mom…mom, you can’t kick me out! this is my home…i…what am i supposed to…where am i supposed to go? mom please” you were crying, begging but they wouldn’t have mercy on you.

“i’m sorry y/n but you made your choice, we are letting you go as you wanted…” she wasn’t even upset about the whole situation.

“mom…dad, you can’t kick me out, please…it’s dark and cold and…and it’s raining and i don’t know where to go…”

“no wrestler, no failure will live under this roof” your father said, before closing the door right in front of your face.

you were left there, under the rain, with only a small backpack and big dreams in your hands.

your screams could be heard in the every room of the hotel but you couldn’t help them, not when you were dreaming, not when your dreams turned into flashback of the past, making you live a real nightmare all over again.

damian’s room was opposite to yours and rhea’s was just as next so it took them one second to run out of their rooms when they heard you screaming.

rhea opened your hotel room with a kick while damian turned on the lights. it was clear to them that you were still asleep and they didn’t want to scare you awake.

“what do we do?” rhea whispered to damian, who was clearly as worried as the woman.

“i don’t know…we should wake her up, gently…” he said. his heart broke when he saw your eyes closed as much as you could, like you were crying.

damian slowly walked towards your bed, his hand resting on your shoulder, gently moving it as he was whispering your name to wake you up “y/n…please hermosa, wake up” he whispered sitting next to you.

rhea sat on the edge of the bed. in case she needed to held you back. you had nightmares in your past and it wasn’t new to them but you never had nightmares this strong.

“y/n…” damian whispered again.

you felt him touching your shoulder, in your mind he was someone who wanted to hurt you so you woke up with a loud scream, trying to shove damian’s hand away.

“hey hey…it’s me y/n, it’s damian…” he talked softly, his voice low.

“please…please don’t hurt me, i promise i’ll be good, i’ll go to college but please don’t hit me again…” your held up your hands, shielding your face. you were visibly crying, still confused as you didn’t recognise that you were in a hotel room and not your house, that you were with damian and rhea and not your parents.

“hey mariposa…no one is going to hurt you…” damian soft voice spoke to you, bringing you back to reality. you slowly slowed your hands down, opening your eyes and meeting damian and rhea.

they both had a scared look on their faces. they didn’t know what to do.

“it’s me…it’s damian…” he wanted to wipe some of your tears away but when his hand tried to touch you, you flinched away, making him stop his movements.

“hey love…” rhea spoke to you, tears in her eyes “no one is going to hurt you, i promise you, no one’s here…”

“it felt real…” your broken voice spoke “like it was happening again…”

“can i touch you?” damian gently asked you and you nodded. he slowly opened his arms to let you rest on his chest, helping you calm down “deep breaths…deep breaths y/n…”

you tried to calm down as he instructed you to do, and after a few minutes your breathing became natural. tears were flowing down your face, you couldn’t stop them.

“i’m sorry if i woke you up” you apologised, feeling guilty.

“it’s okay love…” rhea softly smiled at you. they both were genuinely concerned.

“what happened y/n?” damian asked gently , not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“i’ve had this flashback…of when, you know, they kicked me out…and this time it felt so real, like they were here again…like everything it was happening all over again just because she reminded me…” you still cried in damian’s arms.

“who reminded you? who’s she?” rhea asked, looking up at damian.

“liv…i saw her last night, in the reception hall and she said how much of a burden i’ve always been to the judgment day…she said that finn told her everything about my past, about me still being in therapy, about how finn was tired of me complaining and crying…she said awful things that made my flashbacks click in i guess…why would finn told her everything about my past? was i really a burden to him? to you?” you asked, looking up at damian with sad eyes.

“no, no, absolutely no. i told you y/n that you would never be a burden for us…i care about you so much and everything you went through is awful…but i promise you that we will always be here for you…” he delicately wiped your tears away and kissed your forehead.

rhea was fuming.

she couldn’t believe that finn would say something so delicate and private to liv. finn knew everything you went through and he was always there to support you and help you. finn was the one who insisted on you going to therapy and he was the one who would accompany you to the sessions every week. he would wait in the car for hours, but he would wait just to make sure you were okay. he never once left you going alone.

so rhea couldn’t understand why finn used everything about your past against you when he was the first person to come to the rescue when you were in a bad place with your mind.

“rhea?” damian called her when he saw her looking at the door.

“liv is dead. and finn’s too…” she said before moving out your room.

she started looking for the pair’s room. looking for liv first, she started banging on her door, not caring if it was three in the morning.

finn, who was on the next room, woke up when he heard the noise coming from outside “what is going on? what is this noise?”

rhea turned to face him, walking toward him.

“rhea what’s going on?” he asked but before he could continue, she punched him right in the face.

“you’re a fucking bastard!” she screamed, punching him again.

liv came out of the room, trying to separate rhea from liv.

“get your fucking hands off of me! you’re not better that him” she pushed liv away.

“rhea what’s going on?” finn asked, a little concerned from the whole situation.

“why would you tell her? y/n didn’t deserve that…finn, she cared about you, she cares about you, she admires you…why would you do that to her?” rhea kept screaming.

“rhea what?” finn then remembered telling liv about y/n’s past. he didn’t want to, he never meant to tell her but he was upset when you joined damian and rhea instead of joining him. so, that night, he told everything to liv, full of rage and anger, he never imagined liv would use this against you “rhea what happened?” he asked, a worried look on his face.

“she’s not feeling good, thanks to you…” rhea looked at both liv and finn “liv, you’re mad at me, you’re mad at the world, i get it, but don’t use someone’s past against them…you have no idea what she’s going through…” rhea said tired “you’re a woman, be more than this…”

in the meantime, you were sure your screamed woke everyone in the hotel. but rhea was making it worse, you could hear her from your room.

“damian…should we do something?” you asked, your head still resting on his shoulder..

“no, rhea will take care of this…i’ll stay here with you, close your eyes mariposa…you should rest a little” he whispered softly.

you nodded, too tired of answering. you were exhausted and waking up in the middle of the night after a big evening of working took a toll on you.

damian felt for you.

you didn’t deserve all of this. he knew that finn was mad with rhea and him so he couldn’t understand why would finn put you into this.

“is y/n okay?” finn asked to rhea, visibly worried.

“no she’s not, thanks to you…” she couldn’t even watch him in the eyes.

“rhea i - let me talk to her…” finn almost begged while liv watched from the side, realising that she might have overstepped and gone too far.

“absolutely not! you are no longer welcomed around her, not after you just put her through…she woke up crying, begging for us to stop hurt her…i don’t know what you told liv, but y/n is hurting right now and it’s all on you!” rhea said before leaving.

finn stood there, too stunned to speak.

dom heard everything from the other side of the door. he knew that if he got out he would cause more damage cause he also said some things about you to liv. and right now, he was feeling like shit.

finn was battling with himself. hating himself for hurting you.

“let’s go inside finn…” liv whispered but he shoved her away, wanting to escape from that moment.

rhea came back to damian and softly smiled when she saw you sleeping against his chest “should we stay here?” rhea asked, watching your figure as it was peacefully sleeping.

“i don’t think i can move rhea, she fell asleep on me” damian chuckled “you can go back to sleep rhea, i’ll stay here in case something happens” rhea nodded and left the room. she knew you were in good hands.

“what are you doing here?” you shockingly asked when you opened the door of your new florida home.

“it’s nice to see you too” your mom joked “won’t you let us in?”

“no…no i won’t, now get lost” you said trying to close the door but your father stopped you.

“that’s not nice y/n…we taught you better than this” he said and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“really? you fucking abandoned me!”

“we know” your mother said “and we came here to apologise”

“no, i don’t believe you” you scoffed “ there has to be another reason if you came here today. is it because of money? you need money? what do you need from me?”

“we…” your mother couldn’t lie “we have been watching you since you joined wwe” she said smiling, suddenly feeling like a proud mother “and we are so proud of what you accomplished”

“what do you want from me?” you asked again, getting irritated.

“listen we had some problems and we had to sell my car…” your mom said, quite ashamed of that “and we told everyone that we were actually fixing it but money are quite low and…”

“and? and you expect me to give you money because of? it’s gonna make you look bad at the country club or are you that broke that you are not even allowed at the club anymore?” you asked, already knowing the answer the moment neither of your parents answered you “like i thought…” you chuckled “listen to me you either go away or i’ll call the cops”

“are you threatening us, young girl?” your father asked looking angry as always, but this time you were a little less scared.

“no, this is a warning. i don’t wanna see you ever again or next time i’m filing for a restraining order…” you said closing the door right in front of their face just like they did with you.

you woke up again that night, the thoughts of your parents never leaving you.

damian sensed that you were awake but it was only 6 am, he knew you could sleep a couple of more hours so immediately he went on alert.

he looked down at you trying to see if you were crying, but he saw you were looking at the ceiling probably thinking of something or someone “hey…you okay?” he asked softly.

“uhm…yes…” you didn’t know what to answer.

“talk to me…” he whispered.

“they are still here somehow, i still feel their presence and i hate it…i hate them, and…and everything they put me through…but i feel them everywhere i go, everywhere i look, i can hear my mom saying how disappointed she is or my dad saying that if i don’t do well or if i fail i’m gonna be in big trouble…and i can’t do this anymore, i felt like i was doing good with therapy…i felt like i was starting to live again and then…then this shit with the team happens and i feel like i’m getting kicked out all over again…losing finn and dom hurts, i cared so much about them…” you didn’t want to cry again but you couldn’t stop a few tears that fell from your eyes.

“hey…just wanted to remind you that it’s okay to feel sadness, it's a natural part of life but please remember, you are not alone in this, i’m here for you, rhea too…you’re not alone in this journey, you are stronger than you think, and better days are just around the corner…i know this will pass, healing takes time, and i will always admire you for reaching out for help…and you are so brave and strong, i promise you we are with you all the way through this…we are so proud of you ” he told you, making you reach for that comfort you lost many years ago. it was the comforting voice of an adult, of someone who cared for you. it was the comforting words, the words that you begged your parents to say but never said.

and that comfort you found it again in damian’s embrace.

“go back to sleep y/n…you can sleep a couple of more hours and i promise you that i’ll be here once you wake up” he smiled, making a promise he wasn’t going to break.

the voices about a fight between the members of the judgment day flew quickly through the hotel walls. everyone woke up with the news of rhea attacking finn and liv but no one knew why. somehow they knew you were involved but they didn’t know why.

drew got worried when he didn’t see you in the gym. it was like an habituè, every hotel you were in, you were always hitting gym in the morning so he couldn’t understand why you weren’t there.

“shayna” he called when he saw the dark haired woman entering the gym “do you know where is y/n? or damian? or anyone from the judgment day ?”

“oh…you didn’t know?” she asked.

“know what?” he asked, a little worried.

“there was a fight between rhea and finn tonight, i think about y/n not feeling good or something, i really don’t know but punk said there was a lot of noise, especially from rhea screaming” she informed drew before starting her training.

drew was left there, speechless.

you were hurt?

he flew out of the gym and went towards your bedroom.

damian and rhea were both there, you were already awake but too tired to do anything. crying took a big toll on you. your eyes were heavy and red, your head was pounding heavily and you were tired.

you all heard a knock on your door and damian went in protective mode, fearing it would be finn as rhea went to open the door. she was met with a worry drew.

“drew” she whispered.

“is she okay? i’ve heard she wasn’t feeling good…” he asked, looking at the man who was shielding you.

“she is…but it’s not the right moment” rhea wasn’t stupid. she knew there was something between you two and even if she didn’t like it a little bit, she couldn’t help but be grateful that someone like drew was worrying about you.

“rhea who’s at the door?” you stood up, walking alongside with damian “oh…hi drew” you tiredly smiled at him.

“hey…” he smiled, observing your face. you were tired and it was clear to anyone that you had a rough night “can i please talk to you?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at him.

“guys…it’s fine i promise, i’ll let you know if it isn’t” you said, trying to let them go.

rhea nodded and damian smiled at you “we are one door away” you thanked them as they left.

you sat on your bed and drew followed you, his eyes never leaving your face. he was trying to see if there was something, anything that could tell him what was going on but he couldn’t find any sign.

“is everything okay? how’s your back?” you asked him. his heart melted, loving how caring you were even when it was clear that you were the one in pain.

“i’m okay…my back is okay, thank you” he smiled at you “what about you? you don’t look fine y/n” he said but you couldn’t find any words to explain what was going on.

after what happened with finn you didn’t know if you could trust him with something so delicate as your past. you knew he wasn’t finn but you’ve always valued the irish man like family, like someone who you could count on but after last night you didn’t know who to trust.

“talk to me…please” his eyes almost begging. he saw the redness around them, he knew you cried but he didn’t know why.

“it’s a long story and i’m sure you have more interesting things to do…” you smiled at him.

“i have all the time in the world for you, i wanna make sure you are okay, and clearly you’re hurting right now…” his clear eyes never leaving yours.

so you told him everything.

you told him about your family. how your dad was abusive and violent. how your mom used to make fun of you. how they never supported you. how they kicked you out when you were only a teen. how they threatened you and came back once you got famous. how you had to file a restraining order against them because they wouldn’t leave you alone. how, thanks to them, you’ve been doing therapy sessions for years. how you thought you found a new family in the judgment day. how broken you were when the team split up because to you was like living all that happened with your family all over again. how you trusted finn with your secrets and how he went and told everything to liv. how liv used it against you last night causing you the worst breakdown you’ve had in a long time.

drew was speechless. he couldn’t understand how your own family could turn their backs on you. you were their daughter and they were supposed to protect you. so he couldn’t really understand how some parents were capable of damaging their kid so much.

“and that’s it” you said, avoiding his eyes “pretty fucked up, isn’t it?” you tried to laugh but it was more of a sarcastic laugh.

“i’m so fucking sorry you had to go through all of this…there are no words to express how sorry i am, i can’t imagine what you had to deal with and i can’t imagine how painful it must have been and i swear finn is a dead man” drew said making you laugh, a genuine laugh.

“i think rhea took care of him already” you smiled.

“yeah, i heard” he laughed “but i want you to know that i’ll be here for you, what i said last night, i meant it…y/n i like you, i like all of you” he slowly reached your cheek with his hand, making sure he wasn’t overstepping “i like you when you go out in the ring and kick asses, i like you when you are just you, the normal you, i like you when you’re sad or happy, i like when you shy away from a compliment…i like you and i wanna be here for you, if you’ll let me”

and again, you weren’t good with words so you replicated the actions from last night. you moved closer to his body, your hands both around his neck while you moved closer to him. your lips meeting his in a delicate and gentle kiss, almost like saying “thank you”.

he smiled into the kiss, his hand resting on your cheek “thank you for trusting me with this y/n” he whispered before meeting your lips again.

there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. where you just tried to avoid drew’s eyes while his eyes couldn’t leave your face. he understood that you were a delicate person, who’s been through hell and more. and he promised to himself to never hurt you like your family did in the past. he wanted to see you smile every day, he wanted to be the reason for you to be happy, he wanted to be there for you so he made a promise to himself, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART 6

part 6 will be out after monday night raw cause i need ideas, let me know in the comments if you have any idea you would like me to add!

[widowmaxff]

Hello!! I was having some bad days recently, could u make a one-shot of moms!wandanat and reader with the reader having a bad week, and then Wanda and Natasha comforts reader? If you want to, of course!

enough for you

pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader

warnings: bad thoughts, self-deprecating reader, lots of crying, one agent who really needs to stfu - i think thats all!

a/n: tysm for the request my love! im so sorry for the delay in posting this one shot, my life has been very busy these last few months. and i dont think this one turns out the way u wanted it, because i already made one like your request but w mom!wanda but i hope u like it :3

HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!

You always saw yourself working for SHIELD. Being able to do missions and 'save the world' was something you always wanted to do. Having mothers who are considered super heroes was also something that made you inspired by this life, but you only saw it from the outside. How they were greeted by everyone or how it seemed so easy for them to do these hero things. But when you finally got what you wanted when you turned eighteen, it wasn't what you expected.

It was the third time in the last few days that you had messed up in a mission in which you were classified. The looks the other agents gave you at the Academy made you feel horrible. You obviously hadn't messed up the missions on purpose, you would never do that. But it seemed like all those people expected that every step you took would be right, that you would never make mistakes, and that you would be as good as your mothers. Your head hurt just thinking about it. And that thought led you to others, how ashamed you felt remembering how the other agents spoke mean words to you when, again, you messed up on the mission.

You tried to distract yourself from these types of self-sabotaging thoughts about yourself by training even harder. Punching and kicking the red cylinders using all your strength, and even after hours it still felt like you didn't feel good enough, strong enough. All you wanted was to just stop thinking for at least a few seconds, and when you heard those heavy footsteps you knew that wasn't what was going to happen. "Oh, look who's here!"

You didn't care about remembering that agent's name, but you remembered exactly her voice and face, because it was her who started the whispers about how you weren't like your mothers. How you spoiled the missions of the last few days of that week, how you will never be like them. "The daughter of the great Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch, even if it doesn't seem like it." You continue ignoring her presence there, massaging your fingers to continue punching the red bag. "Do they know how you failed this last week?"

She wasn't stupid to know how horrible your week had been, how the failed missions, the disturbances and all those other things were making you almost have panic attacks right there in front of everyone. "No." Your voice was low, because you knew that if you exerted the necessary strength to reach a greater height, the tears would fall without your permission.

"What do you think they will do when they find out how bad you are?" She starts to approach you with those boots with a high step, her head lolling to the side with a tone to tease you. A smirk on her sharp face, her gloved hands resting on her waist. All those little details made you want to scream in her face, tell her that you weren't bad, but how would you say that if you didn't even believe it yourself?

"Maybe they'll get you out of here when they see how bad you are and realize that any of the agents here are much better than you, your place as an Avenger is almost invisible.” The girl laughs, her cheeks almost covering her eyes due to the action. At some other time you would find her features extremely beautiful, but at that moment, you wanted to vomit just looking at her.

Even if you tried to be strong at that moment, like your mother Natasha, you couldn't. Your fists were clenched tightly trying to control the tears from coming out, the pain of your nails in the palms of your hands trying to distract you from that moment. And every time that Agent mentioned your mother's name, your thoughts directed you only to them, how you wanted to be in their arms right now while you feel your hair being stroked by Wanda's magical hands. You knew that if you wanted comfort from your mothers they wouldn't wait a second to give it to you, and even if you didn't want to talk about why you were feeling that way, they wouldn't force you to talk.

"Where are you going? Ruin another mission?” If it weren't for the high-pitched, irritating tone of her voice, you wouldn't have even registered those questions in your head. Your thoughts were in a totally different space from that place, just wanting your mothers affection. So when you started packing your things and totally ignoring that Agent, you knew that your body wouldn't stop until you got home.

The girl's laugh echoed throughout the room as you headed towards the exit door of the place. In films, this scene would be dramatic, as if the main character was planning some revenge in their head to end the character who keeps provoking them. But at that moment you weren't thinking about revenge, or how you would turn things around, you just thought about how your mothers affectionate touches would turn that bad week into just distant memories. How you were sure that your mother Wanda would know what to say to you and how Natasha would know what to do so that your surroundings were just comfort.

You didn't wait a second before getting on your motorcycle, which Natasha had given you as a gift for your 18th birthday, and heading towards your childhood home. Even though those bad thoughts were in your head now and could possibly distract you in the traffic on the streets, you continued on your way with your eyes soaked with tears and the horrible tightness in your chest. You tried to think of good things, like your mom Wanda would probably be baking chocolate chip cookies and your mom Natasha would just be watching, since cooking isn't one of her great talents, but that domestic situation was pretty far away for you. It seemed that any self-deprecating thought stood in the way, a great layer of ignorance about happiness.

You didn't bother to park the motorcycle correctly, just running towards the entrance porch and knocking, almost softly, on the door. You heard some sweet giggles through it, confirming that your mothers were in some domestic situation, before the door calmly opened and revealed Wanda's long red hair. Her smile opened for a few seconds when she saw it was you, their beloved daughter, but when she came across the features on your face, the reddish eyes with lakes over them, her smile soon fell apart, taking its place a worried look. “Sweetie? What happened, my love?"

She took no time in taking you into her arms, even though you didn't answer her question. Your head falls on your mother's shoulder as she wraps one of her arms around your waist and the other massages the hair spread across her chest. Your hands tightly grip the blouse stuck to Wanda's body, as if at any moment she would come off and no longer provide the comfort you needed. Natasha heard your sobs from the kitchen, and she knew they were yours, she knew and kept almost everything about you. She quickly heads towards the front door, seeing her wife's back being grabbed by you, and how your body looked like it would fall to the ground at any moment.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Wanda whispered in your ear with her sweet voice. Your crying was loud, as if you had kept it for several days, your mother thought. She didn't know and had no idea why you were sobbing uncontrollably and why you arrived so early that day. Normally you would be completing some report, or training, since you always said how strong you wanted to get. But at that moment, everything didn't seem strong to you.

At some point you were carried and taken towards the comfortable sofa in that house. Your thoughts were so loud that you didn't even notice when you were positioned on your mother Wanda's lap. She still kept her grip on his body and the affectionate words in your ear. “I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” Her breathing became heavier and slower, forcing it so that at that moment you could keep up with her. Natasha, beside you two, continued to caress your back, praising you for following Wanda so well.

You finally managed to take a deep breath after what felt like hours of crying and sobbing. Your gaze fell from your mother's eyes to your hands in your lap, you felt embarrassed. Maybe because you were 18 and sitting on your mother's lap, or because you were crying uncontrollably without being able to breathe properly, or because you failed at the only thing you wanted to do at SHIELD. “I feel like a baby.” You say in a low voice, almost making your mothers not hear, even with their proximity.

"Well, you're our baby." Natasha says making you finally let out a laugh between your lips. “Do you want to tell us why you're so sad, my love?” You didn't know if you wanted to tell them or not, the negative thoughts making you think they were going to fight you, tell you how bad you are. So, you shrug and lay your head on Wanda's shoulder again, but in a position so you could still look at your mother Natasha. “I just- I had a bad week.” You murmur, closing your eyes to feel the comfort that place brought you. “And, um… I think I should stop being an Agent.”

That took their mothers by surprise. You always said you wanted to be one of the people at SHIELD and you always trained to be one of the best at that place. “Oh, and why do you think that?” Wanda questions. Even though you didn't see her, you knew she would be looking at Natasha, as if they were talking through looks.

“I’m not good enough.” You felt Wanda's body tense beneath you. Your mothers always knew how much you felt like everyone was better than you, how hard it was to believe you were good at something. “This week I- I ruined every mission I went on,” Your mother's blouse was soaked with your tears, and now she could once again feel the salt water falling from your eyes through the fabric. “all the Agents are making fun of me because of it. They say I will never be like you.”

When you finish speaking, Wanda's grip on your body becomes even tighter, you feel Natasha's hand in your hair, stroking it as you hear her sigh deeply. “I've lost count of how many times your mother and I messed up a mission.”

“What?”

“There were several times when I blew up my teammates, for example, Uncle Tony was probably the one who received the most blasts.” Natasha says, making the three of you laugh at the words. “What about the times your mother mistook me for enemies and threw me out of buildings with her magic? We had to stop missions many, many times.” She emphasizes the word 'many', as if she were singing it.

“Remember when I joined the Avengers, Nat?” She was asking your mother, but she was talking so you could listen. “I was much older than you, Y/n/n, and I couldn't do half the things you do today at SHIELD, even with my powers.” She leaves a kiss on your head before continuing. “In every training session I did, I always ended up on the ground.” You laugh again, feeling much lighter than before.

”And you want to know something? I bet you were the one doing all the mission stuff, huh?” Natasha says. “Because if no Agent has ever made a mistake on a mission, then they aren’t real Agents.”

“Your mother is right, make mistakes is human, my love, and everyone will do it one day.” You feel your thoughts start to ease now. The tears stopped falling down your face and only lightness is in their place. Your mothers always knew what to do to make you feel good.

"You're right..." You finally admit, lifting your head from your mother's shoulder and looking at the two women in front of you, seeing nothing but affection and truths.

Wanda sits you down on the couch before getting up and ruffling your hair. "Now, don't worry your pretty head about that stuff and just think about the cookies that are going to go into your stomach in a little while that obviously weren't made by Natasha!"

"What do you mean by 'obviously’?" You laugh at that one scene, seeing Natasha's arms cross under her breasts as an indignant expression is placed on her face.

And at the end of the day you knew that you wouldn't have to worry about anything - just your mom's delicious cookies - and that you knew that your moms would never think about fighting or being upset with you. And Natasha would definitely make sure you didn't need to worry about that Agent who wouldn't leave you alone. That bitch will obviously never set foot in SHIELD again.

[theyjustadmitthathuh]

Hi I'm not a radfem but I'm a believer in learning about all political idealogies/opinions so that I can better construct my own beliefs/opinions

It's pretty obvious what the radfem opinion on trans women is, that you think they're invading women's spaces, predatory, etc, but I'm curious what the opinion of trans men (or trans identifying women, I think your term is?) and nonbinary/genderqueer people. I don't see it talked about super often so I'm just sort of curious what radfems think about it.

btw this is not meant to be a hate ask to to stir up shit or anything, I would just genuinely like to know so I can expand my understandings of different political views

I’d like to start out by saying that trans women are no more predatory than cis men, and that predators will flock to any movement that gives them deniability. This means that I dont believe that trans women inherently by the fact of being trans or crossdressing or taking hormones, are predators, nor do I think that male predators are inherently more apt to be feminine or crossdress or take hrt. I think it’s more comparable to teachers (or cops but teachers are a safer analogy).

Not all teachers abuse students. Abusers do not inherently feel the desire to teach children. And yet, many teachers abuse students because teaching is a profession where only few people can actually say no to or question you. Teachers have a boss- they can be stopped there, although usually not- teachers have students’ parents to question them, but many parents are burnt out, overworked, or just do not care. This means as long as abusive people are smart about their methods, an abusive person could become a teacher and have plenty of victims with no way out who truly believe this is correct and fair. Doesn’t that seem appealing to them? But! If they taught at a different school, perhaps one where the principal stops this kind of thing or the parents are very involved, the abusive person would either never get the job or get fired/arrested quite quickly.

This is what we’re saying is happening with some trans women. I’d like to stop here in my explanation to expound on another fact that often gets misconstrued when we have these conversations: i dont believe anyone is inherently trans. I believe that “being trans” or “having gender dysphoria” (which I do believe is a subset of body dysmorphia) is caused by negative sexist stereotypes and the inability to live up to them. What is there to make one feel like a different sex other than stereotypes about the other sex? I mean truly, in order for me to feel male, wouldnt I have to know how it feels to be male? How would I know that? All I know is the stereotypes about being male, and those stereotypes are sexist. If I’m relating to male people more than female people in daily life, that’s because men are human and maybe I need to work on why I cant relate to other women. (Side note: working on relating to other women over relating to men has helped my gender dysphoria more than crossdressing or being called sir)

So anyway, with that covered, you have a group of (most gay/bi) men who don’t fit in to sexist stereotypes trying desperately to live their lives. Sad, but not hurting anyone. Then it became a mainstream theory. “What if people actually did have souls and they got switched up? Or maybe it’s in the brain?? It could be inherent! Should it be a protected trait?” Still no one is listening to the gay men who could tell you why they did it. (And nobody knows about the trans men who exist now because they NEED it that way for escaping misogyny)

So now those gay/bi men are a minority, and this culture of questioning a trans person being the same as murder came out. Are you seeing the parallels yet? This is the culture, the atmosphere, the environment, that is alluring to predators. We may as well be running a church with the way questions and outside sources get you blocked by everyone who once called you a friend. And tell a predator going to prison that all he has to do is go by she/her to keep abusing women and he will do that. So we have all these trans women, who are not transitioning in the original spirit, being predators and ruining the public’s understanding of what a transgender person is and is trying to do. Basically, men kept abusing women and being predators, but now they have a new deniability to try on when it suits them. I know the argument “it’s a lot of work to transition why would they do that?” Well it’s a lot of work to become a teacher or a minister or the pope or a gynecologist, but there are all men who’ve admitting to doing those things to get victims that couldn’t fight back.

So, now that hopefully, you understand that I’m not a lunatic who thinks that estrogen in a male body makes a man abusive or that somehow abusers crave estrogen and frills, we can move on to your question about trans men.

Basically the same thing except women dont have the social power to abuse that men do. There’s no posts going around like “if a trans man rapes you no he didnt” or “youre just a trans mans flesh doll” or “if I hear that a trans man is racist then I’m going to assume whoever told me is transphobic” (quotes of posts i’ve seen reblogged about trans women) because there’s little to no female solidarity like there is male solidarity (the concept that a man will side with another man he hates or disagrees with over any woman, even one he agrees with), so I’m not saying that men being predatory is biological or anything, I’m saying that trans men simply do not have the social power nor class solidarity needed to call predators to their ranks in droves. Are there predatory trans men? Yes there’s predatory every kind of person.

So, if there’s very little social power gained with becoming a trans man, why are there more female trans people than male trans people? Because women are oppressed on the basis of sex. Escaping that oppression is the number one reason for transitioning (whether ftm or nb) for female humans. Whether it be sexual assault, harassment, or misogyny intersecting with other things like racism, homophobia, or the oppression associated with gender non-conformity, most trans men have a story to tell of a time they would have been treated better as a boy or man or a time they would have been not hurt if they were male. I know my transition story centered around my hatred of being a lesbian. I’m coming to terms with that in a more healthy way now, and not by pretending to be a straight man.

Other than the vague theories surrounding the movement and the real consequences of it, trans people are just people. Some are shit some are cool. Some realize what theyre doing and just think this is the best way to live with their shit, some are unaware and truly think they were born into a body that is not their own, and some are running a game.

Here, I’m mostly concerned with using logic to try to get people to become a little more self aware. (And passing the time at work) But if I can reblog a rant about “afab trans women” and make someone realize that we’re all saying the same things here and maybe we can reach an agreement and work together, great! If I can reblog a misogynist rant in the disguise of a trans rights rant and get someone to notice what theyre agreeing with, great!

If not, well this is a silly little blog. Radical feminism is much much much much much more than the trans issue. I’m busy helping women in abusive situations and trying to foster female friendship and solidarity. Imo, if we could get female solidarity with all female humans (cis women, trans men, female nbs) that would truly be a better world than one where no woman transitions but also no woman stands with one another.

(I know you also asked about nbs and genderqueer ppl but as I dont believe any form of trans is inherent, there is little difference to me between a trans man and an afab nb genderqueer person in terms of identity. Obviously each person is unique in terms of personality.)

I enjoy these types of questions, and if there’s anything that wasn’t clear or anything that you’re still wondering about, feel free to send another anon or dm me or whatevs! Thanks for the question! 😊

[nataliesfirefly]

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 6

a/n: hey guys!! im so sorry this part has taken me so long! im currently on a trip so i havent had much time to write! but i hope this makes up for it, im super excited for yall to read this!!! also i think im going to plan for this series to have a few more chapters, probably max 9 or 10! i love it sm i really dont want it to end 😭 but anyways enjoyyy and comment what you think! and again i apologize if the smut is mid.. btw this is not proofread LMAO

series masterlist

playlist

word count: 4.9k words

warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v, angst, language, smoking, afab reader

You’re sitting in your bed, reading a magazine, when your flip phone rings. You lean forward to pick it up from the corner of the bed, wondering who could be calling you this late. You raise your eyebrows when you see that it’s Lola. You haven’t spoken to her since school got out. Nevertheless, you answer it and put the phone up to your ear.

“Lola! Hey,” You grin. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you picked up. I’m so bored around here,” She groans, and you smile even bigger at the sound of her voice on the other end. “Around where?” You ask curiously.

“My parents’. I have to babysit my younger sister all the time. It’s exhausting, really,” She moans. “I just want to like, go to a party or something. Honestly, I would even prefer to be going to classes right now instead of this.”

“Wow. That must mean it’s really bad then, huh?” You continue flipping through the magazine, your eyes scanning through the apparently trending fashion and makeup choices at the moment.

“Yes. Ugh. You’re at Saltburn, right?” She asks. “Yeah.” You reply.

“How’s that going?” Lola questions, and you hear another voice in the background that sounds like her, only higher-pitched. “No, I’m on the phone. Go away. Shoo,”

You try not to snicker at her shooing away her little sister. “It’s…” You trail off, trying to decide the right way to describe how the summer is going so far for you. “I don’t know. Different.”

“How so?” You pause and wonder if you should tell her what’s been going on. You decide it’s probably better not to and keep some things to yourself.

“I think it’s just cause we’re growing up. I mean, we graduate in less than two years.” You shrug and reach over to grab your glass of wine. “Oh God, don’t remind me. My parents are still asking me what my plans are,” She sighs loudly.

“I can’t believe it.” You shake your head and close the magazine, uninterested in the latest celebrity drama. An idea suddenly forms in your mind.

“Hey, the Cattons are throwing one of their big summer parties in a few days. I could invite you?” You suggest. You hear Lola gasp. “Really?! I’d love to go. I’ve heard so many stories about the Saltburn parties.” She makes it sound so dramatic, and you giggle.

“And you’d get a chance to see Felix,” You grin as you hear her jumping around. “Yeah, I would! You don’t need to convince me any further. I’ll be there,” She pauses. “Wait, but they’ll let me come, right?”

“Oh, of course. They like me a lot, so I’m sure they won’t mind.” You assure her. “Okay, perfect. Thank you so much, my love. I’ll let you get some sleep. See you soon!” She squeals excitedly and you roll your eyes with a smile as she hangs up.

You set down your phone and sigh, looking around your dim room.

You haven’t been able to get Farleigh out of your mind since your little… moment two nights ago. He’s not avoiding you, but he’s not being nice either. He’s gone back to teasing you and embarrassing you in front of the Cattons. You should’ve known that if you got too close, he’d pull away and return to his old ways.

But every little glance you two share has your stomach fluttering and your heart pounding. Every insult meant to hurt or offend you has the opposite effect. In some depraved way, you like when he degrades you. The past two nights, you’ve laid awake and stared up at the ceiling, trying to relive that night when he made you feel so good. Just the thought of him had your mind reeling. You would do anything just to feel that way again. You’re hooked.

You can’t just keep wallowing in these feelings. You want to talk to him, work things out, and go back to how they used to be a week ago. More importantly, you just want to be in his presence. It gives you some kind of thrill to be around him. It’s like a game of roulette to see which version of him you’ll get each time, and you love it. You crave his attention.

You climb off of your large bed and walk determinedly to your door, opening it quietly and sneaking down the hallway. It’s quite a long walk to Farleigh’s room, but you don’t care. You pass Felix’s room, then Venetia’s. Both of their lights are out, telling you that everyone in the house is probably asleep by now. You can only hope and pray that Farleigh isn’t.

You eventually find yourself standing in front of his room. Dim light peeks through from under his door, and you sigh with relief. He’s still awake. Your decision catches up to you and you realize how stupid it is that you’re about to knock on his door. You shake your head to clear your doubt, raising your hand and gently knocking.

You hear his bed shifting and footsteps following close after. You swallow nervously, your throat suddenly feeling dry. Your heart races with anticipation as he finally opens the door.

Fuck. He’s shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants on. Your eyes trail down subconsciously before you blink and look back up to his face. Is he wearing underwear?

“Hello,” He says, his grin foxlike. “I can’t sleep. Can we talk?” You ask, your voice shaky. You curse yourself for sounding nervous. He crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows. “Talk about what?” He questions.

You pause, unsure of what to say next. What were you going to talk about? He would deny any feelings towards you, so what was the point of even coming here?

“Just let me in, please.” You step forward and avoid his gaze. He steps to the side wordlessly, opening the door further to let you into his room.

You breathe in the familiar scent of that candle he’s always burning, and the scent of his cologne. It’s musky and spicy, with notes of vanilla. You tried to memorize it everytime you were close to him. You walk over to his bed and sit down on the edge, looking up at him as he closes the door behind him.

“Can I have a cigarette?” You ask, pointing to the pack sitting on his bedside table. He nods, and you carefully take one. He hands you the lighter.

He stares down at you as you light the cigarette, taking a drag from it. He chuckles to himself and you exhale, furrowing your eyebrows. “What’s funny?”

“You always said you hated the smell. Yet here you are, asking me for a cigarette,” He replies with a scoff. “Maybe you’re just a bad influence,” You shoot back, and his smile slightly fades.

You can see his eyes traveling down your body, lingering on your thighs and your bare legs. You had outgrown these sleep shorts, but you never cared because you figured no one would see you in them. Well, there goes that.

“Are we not going to talk about the other night?” You mutter. “What’s there to talk about?” He replies, and you roll your eyes. “Are you-” You pause and let out a frustrated breath. “Are you serious?” You exclaim angrily.

“You can’t blame it on being drunk this time, Farleigh.” You tell him, and he freezes, his gaze faltering downwards.

“Can we not talk about that? Let’s just…” He sighs with exasperation and sits next to you. You turn away from him, looking out the window. You decide not to press the issue, since it’s apparently too much for him to think about right now. Honestly, you aren’t even able to fully process what’s been going on between you two.

“Let’s just… talk,” He says finally, and you face him again, exhaling a small cloud of smoke. “Okay.” You shrug. It’s what you both do best: Talking. About anything and everything, despite the strange history of your relationship. You guessed that it was because you had known each other for so long, that it just came naturally. He’s just… real. He’s never pretending or putting on a façade, at least around you he’s not. Around the Cattons, he has to, because to them he’s just the wild child, the comedic relief, the American. You feel like you are the only one that gets to see the real Farleigh, and it feels like a privilege. But you know that’s not true, and you choose to believe it anyway.

“So… Our third year at Oxford,” Farleigh says. You let out a breath and raise your eyebrows. “Can’t believe it’s already been two years,” You both smile, thinking of all the good and bad memories you’ve made so far during your years at university.

“Can I be honest?” You ask, and he nods. “I’m scared.” You say simply. His eyebrows knit together. “Of what?” He replies. “Graduating. You know, I’ll probably go to graduate school or something, but I need to start making my own money. Get a job. Do adult things,” You sigh just at the thought of all the responsibilities. “I can’t be on a scholarship forever. Or have my parents pay forever,” You continue, shaking your head. “I’m putting them through enough as it is.”

Farleigh nods again with a look of understanding. “I might go back to the states. See my mom, maybe stay there for a while.” He says. You can’t help but feel a little sad at the thought of him being away for so long. You hate to admit it, but you would miss him.

“But we don’t have to worry about that right now. You’re too uptight. Let yourself have fun,” He nudges you softly. “I’m trying,” You mutter. “Well, you’re smoking. That’s one step closer,” He laughs a bit and you roll your eyes.

It goes quiet and you stare down into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you, and your heart begins to race with anticipation. That familiar tension returns in the air between you and Farleigh.

You look up slightly, his eyes meeting with yours. Your stomach churns as you look down to see his hand inching towards your thigh, eventually resting on top of it. “I know why you came here,” He says, his voice lowered.

You look back up to him. “What?” You whisper. “Don’t play dumb,” He shakes his head. “I’m not.” You reply, trying hard not to break the intense eye contact.

You gulp nervously and finally look away, your face giving you away and burning red. “Hmm,” He hums, his thumb brushing across your thigh. You try to distract yourself by pressing the cigarette out on the ashtray on his bedside table, watching the little flame burn out.

He gently reaches up and grabs your chin, tilting your head back towards him. He drags his thumb down your bottom lip as you stare into his eyes. He grins slightly before moving his hand to cup your cheek, leaning in closer until your noses brush together. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. You know Farleigh is emotionally unavailable and toxic, and he won’t ever discuss his feelings or yours. But you can’t help but melt into the kiss, his touch, his aura. It’s like he’s magnetic, pulling you in everytime you try to pull away.

Somehow, every single time he kisses you, it’s better than the first time. Your tongues intertwine as your lips move in a perfect rhythm while both of you fall back onto his bed clumsily. One of his hands tangles in your hair, and the one that was resting on your leg moves up to rest on your waist, his fingers caressing your bare skin due to your tank top riding up. He eventually shifts his position so that he’s on top of you, and you turn to lay on your back underneath him.

His kisses begin to move down to your jawline, then your neck. He sucks and licks your skin so cruelly, but you don’t want him to stop. You breathe in the scent of his hair, his curls tickling your face, and you can already feel yourself becoming weak again.

You feel his hands start to trail down your body, resting on your hips, as he moves down the bed and you peer down to see him looking up at you from between your legs. Feverish heat burns across your skin just at the sight of it.

“Wait, wait. I’ve never-“ You start, suddenly feeling nervous. “It’s okay,” Farleigh replies, his eyes soft and warm as he gazes up at you. “Just relax,” He murmurs, gently pulling down your shorts and panties at the same time, shuffling them off your legs.

Just relax, you think. Easier said than done. You’ve pictured this moment so many times in the past few days, and you can’t believe it’s becoming reality.

And of all the times you’ve fantasized about this, none of them could ever do Farleigh’s beauty justice. His dark eyes are shining with something of lust and hunger, his plush lips slightly parted and his shoulders broad and golden. His curly hair is only slightly wet from his shower earlier, yet still perfectly coiled.

He looks up at you, trying to convey something through his gaze. “So pretty,” He mutters, tracing a finger along your thigh. Your breath catches in your throat and you feel your stomach fluttering already.

He lifts your legs up and places them over his shoulders. Your heart pounds in anticipation and you can hear yourself breathing among the silence.

Farleigh leans down and presses a few kisses along your inner thigh, and you don’t know how much longer you can stand his teasing. You watch him gaze up at you through his lashes as he dips a finger into your wetness and you see the smirk that tugs at his lips. He raises his eyebrows at you and your face turns red. “Stop,” You cover your face with both hands, your stomach doing flips. You can’t handle how perfect he looks right now, even as he teases you for how soaked you are already.

“Hey, look at me,” He says, his deep voice vibrating against your skin. You let your hands fall back to your sides, smiling shyly. His expression turns more serious as he furrows his brows, slipping his finger inside of you. He moans before you even can, his head falling against your thigh.

That familiar stretch around his finger has your mind reeling as you throw your head back. He pulls it out and you whimper at the loss, until you feel his middle and ring finger on your clit. Your hands instinctively move to grasp the sheets as he strokes your bundle of nerves perfectly, letting your head fall back down to watch him. He continues to maintain eye contact and it makes you so weak.

Your brain almost turns to mush as you see him leaning down, his head buried between your legs. A moan louder than you intended leaves your mouth as you feel his tongue greedily licking a stripe up your pussy.

“Shit,” You huff, your chest heaving up and down. No one had ever given you head before, until now, so you didn’t really understand your girlfriends when they would tell you how amazing it felt. But now, you completely get it. His tongue moves in long, slow strokes and his pretty nose nudges perfectly against your clit.

He barely lifts his head so he can stare up at you to watch your reaction. You grind up against his face, your hand reaching down to grab a handful of his curls. He groans at the feeling before inserting a finger again, moving at the perfect pace along with his tongue. The combination is enough to make your legs shake. The lewd sounds of him lapping up your cum and both of your wanton moans echo throughout his room.

“Farleigh!” You almost scream his name before letting out a long, drawn out moan. He glances up at you once more, his pupils huge with lust. He moans against you as he absolutely devours you, adding a second finger in. His long fingers brush against that divine spot inside of you and you whimper helplessly, your other hand gripping his sheets as if it could help ground you somehow. That delicious heat builds in the base of your stomach, spreading like a fire.

“I’m gonna-“ You gasp for air, your chest heaving up and down. His eyes are half-lidded and he seems completely lost in the moment, just absolutely pussy drunk. “Let go,” He says, his voice deep and raspy.

And you do exactly that. The pleasure shoots through your veins like a drug, your grasp in his hair tightening and your hips rolling as you ride it out. You eventually come down from your high, letting your legs drop from his shoulders as you let out a shaky sigh, your heart still pounding against your ribs.

“Fuckk,” You breathe out, resting your head against the pillow. Farleigh crawls over you, leaning down to kiss you. The lower half of his face is covered in your slick, but you couldn’t care less. He kisses you passionately, desperately, groaning into your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips and his tongue, and it just turns you on even more.

He pulls away, his lips hovering over yours. You look up at him and suddenly feel an indescribable desire wash over you as you stare into his deep brown eyes. It’s like you can’t get close enough to him, like you need more than everything he’s already given you. You want him inside of you. You want to feel every part of him. You want him to feel every part of you.

“Farleigh,” You whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “What is it?” He whispers back, lightly touching your own face.

“I want you,” You say. You don’t care how stupid you sound right now. This carnal desire has completely taken over you.

“In what way?” He replies, smirking smugly. “I think you know which way I mean,” You mutter. You don’t have time for his teasing, although you love it.

His expression softens and he seems to understand what you mean. “Please, I need you,” You can’t believe you’re begging for Farleigh of all people right now. You know you’ll be regretting it later. His eyes widen and he seems shocked by your confession.

“Far…” You whisper, tracing your finger along his lips. He opens his mouth to speak, hesitating slightly.

“Do you know what you do to me?” He asks, his voice soft. You look up at him and tilt your head. He takes your hand and guides it down below his waist while still looking down at you. You gasp softly when you feel that his dick is so hard underneath his sweatpants. It has to be painful. You slowly rub your hand against him and his eyebrows draw together as he stutters slightly, and it almost looks like he’s in pain.

“Baby-“ Farleigh whimpers. “Please,” You beg once again, and he nods, quickly taking his pants off and throwing them somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. You look down at his dick, and you have to keep your jaw from dropping.

It’s definitely the biggest you’ve seen, and although you haven’t seen many in your lifetime, you know he would be considered above average. It’s long, with a bit of girth to it, veiny and already leaking precum from the tip. You feel yourself starting to get nervous. You aren’t sure if you could even take all of it, but hell, you’re going to try. You hope he didn’t pick up on your reaction, because you know he would tease you over it.

He places his hands on either side of your head and leans down onto his elbows. He never takes his eyes off yours as he positions himself. You wrap your legs around his waist, letting your ankles rest on his back.

He slowly begins to slide in, and you grunt quietly at the pain. He goes a bit deeper before you panic and place a hand on his lower stomach, stopping him. “I can’t-“ You wince in pain.

“Yes, you can. You can take it,” He nods and brushes the side of your face with his fingers. He takes your hand off of his stomach gently and places your arm back onto the bed. You nod in an attempt to encourage yourself, gritting your teeth to withstand the pain. You reach up to his shoulders, resting your hands on his shoulder blades, trying to keep your nails from digging into his skin as you hold onto him.

“Fuck,” Farleigh grunts as your walls grip him tightly, sucking him in. Eventually he’s buried inside of you to the hilt, and you can feel every inch of him. You’re still trying to adjust to his size, and the pain is slowly subsiding as he groans and drops his head and closes his eyes. You press your hips up against his, trying to get him to start moving. “Far,” You mutter. You can tell he’s trying to hold back. He breathes heavily and opens his eyes again, gazing into yours.

“I’m ready,” You whisper. His eyebrows knit together as he rolls his hips slowly, causing your eyes to roll back and drawing a short moan out of you. He shudders, slightly pulling out of you before thrusting back in. You wonder how he’s so good at this as your nails dig crescent moons into his back with each slow thrust and roll of his hips. Your mouth falls open and you try to be quieter but it’s no use.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, his curls tickling your face. He’s whimpering and moaning your name and other incoherent nonsense right into your ear. He sets a beautiful rhythm, his bed creaking underneath you as you sink into the plush of the mattress. You think you hear the headboard hitting the wall but you don’t care about the loud sounds you two are creating. You just don’t want this moment to end.

He looks back up to you and you can see he’s already fucked out. His eyes are even more glazed over than before and sex sweat forms on his brow. He whimpers helplessly and pants heavily. “You’re so good,” He breathes. “So, so good,” You could probably cum just from his words alone.

You let out a wanton moan as he hits that spot again, deep inside of you. “Oh, fuck!” You gasp and claw at his shoulders. He drops his head again, kissing your neck as he thrusts into you faster and deeper each time, hitting your spot over and over once he’s found it.

“Yeah, that’s it,” He groans against your neck and you feel tears brimming in your eyes. “Farleigh- It’s-“ You can’t seem to form words, your brain turned to sizzling hot liquid. “I know, I know,” He whimpers, his voice slightly higher pitched and breathless. You try to hold on longer, but you’re already coming undone as your orgasm hits you sooner than you expected. Your body stills and you clench even harder around him. He moans, that pained expression crossing his face once again. “Oh God,” He chokes out, his thrusts beginning to become less steady.

“Where should I-“ Farleigh pants. “Inside,” You tell him. You’re on birth control, but you don’t have the mental capacity to explain that to him or explain why. His hips stutter and he stiffens, finishing inside of you, the warm feeling spreading throughout your lower stomach. He collapses on top of you, his head on your chest, resting on the soft fabric of your shirt.

You’re already sleepy and physically exhausted from what just took place. You breathe in his scent one more time and let out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling and trying to process what you just did. Then he’s wrapping his arms around you gently before pulling out of you slowly. You grunt a bit, feeling a dull ache between your legs, but you can’t help but miss the feeling of him inside of you.

He adjusts the both of you so that you’re both laying on your side, allowing you to stretch out a bit and cuddle up to him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. He holds you, and for a moment, it feels like a real relationship. Something you had never experienced. Something deep. Something real. And then you remember that it’s not. After this, he will go back to avoiding you and acting like he can’t stand you. You just wish that he would put his pride away and admit to you what he really feels. But what does he really feel? Are you stupid for thinking that there’s something here?

Farleigh strokes his fingers through your hair, brushing away some of the strands plastered onto your forehead by your sweat. He seems to notice your silence.

“You’re thinking too much,” He says, his voice beautifully hoarse. You sigh, relaxing your shoulders. “Am I?” You reply, your voice weaker than you thought it would be.

“Just sleep here tonight,” He mutters, resting his chin on top of your head. You so badly want to ask him to be serious and have an actual conversation with you about your… relationship.

“Okay… but we need to talk about this,” You respond quietly. He sighs and shifts a bit, careful not to move you too much. “We can in the morning,” He says, but you know that won’t happen. You’ll just have to settle for no answers to your questions for the time being.

You curl up closer to him and let your eyes close, breathing slowly and peacefully. “Goodnight,” You murmur. “Night,” He replies, sounding just as tired as you are. You drift off to sleep in Farleigh Start’s arms.

ONE YEAR EARLIER

You were usually on okay terms with Farleigh. But you remember exactly when the dislike turned into hatred.

It was right before end of term exams and Felix convinced you to go to the pub to blow off some steam and relax after all your revising. You reluctantly agreed, then regret your decision when you saw Farleigh and Sasha there.

It was pretty far into the evening and you were beginning to get sleepy. You had spaced out for a moment, staring out the window and watching the snow fall before you heard something that peaked your interest.

“I mean, Felix, you have got to settle down,” Farleigh chuckled and nudged Sasha, pointing his cigarette at Felix.

Felix grinned stupidly and shrugged. “Listen, mate. I’ve tried.” Some other friends of his joined in with the laughter.

You sat up and leaned forward, facing Farleigh. “You’re one to comment on relationships,” You said, raising an eyebrow. Everyone else sort of quieted down after hearing your words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Farleigh rolled his eyes at you and Sasha just glared. “You and Sasha. You’re dysfunctional.” You responded, unafraid to challenge him.

“Excuse me?” Sasha looked at you like you just committed a hate crime. “Yeah. He cheats on you, you cheat on him, you get back together, blah blah blah.” You took a sip of your beer and shrugged. “It’s gone on for almost a year now. It’s exhausting,”

Farleigh chuckled. “Ohh, you want to come after my relationship?” He smirked as if he was cooking up a plan in his mind of how to humiliate you best.

“Well, I bet you would like everyone to know that you lost your virginity to Joshua Brown,” Farleigh said, loud enough for even people from other tables to hear. A small chorus of gasps echoed across the room.

“You’re desperate, easy, and sloppy. You take anyone who wants you. I guess that’s what happens when you get no attention before you go to college, hm?” He just kept going, and the whole room went silent

“I’ve seen you walk out of so many dorms at six in the morning, it’s insane. You can’t even keep a fucking man,” Farleigh’s tone was harsher and colder than you’d ever heard before. Felix was staring at you in shock and Sasha was giving you that judgemental look.

You looked around to see all the pairs of eyes on you. “Fucking hell, Farleigh,” Felix muttered, shaking his head at him.

You stood up and grabbed your bag hastily, storming out of the pub with tears in your eyes. Why was he such a bitch? Why did he hate you?

Your reputation was officially ruined. All that time, he never told anyone about your situation with Joshua. Until now. He was doing so well. The whole class thought you were an innocent and pure, high achieving student, and now what would they think? You wish you didn’t care so much about how others perceive you, but you do.

You hated Farleigh. You hated him for ruining your reputation and your image. It was impossible to get him back or do something worse, since basically everyone knew he was a slut. But he got praised for it.

Ever since that night at the pub, other students would look at you sideways and whisper things about you as if you couldn’t hear them.

Fuck you, Farleigh. You decided you were officially done with him and your weird friendship. Even if that meant having to avoid him at every cost.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld @florkt @i-love-ptv

[manicpixiefelix]

he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way)

{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }

Summary: When Oliver's lies are revealed to you and Felix, you have a much better time understanding his reasoning for it all, and Oliver convinces you to help talk Felix around into hopefully forgiving him. Felix, however, just grows more frustrated as it appears that you've very quickly moved on from the betray, and are urging him to do so too. Meanwhile, Oliver has come to realise that no matter the outcome, Felix will never really want anyone else if he has you by his side.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: death (YOU DIE IN THIS ONE), murder via overdose, oliver's birthday party situation, oliver being incredibly manipulative, reader and felix arguing a lot, felix being a bit of a dick, angst with an unhappy ending, toxic felix/oliver endgame, heavy drinking and drug use

{ now with an epilogue }

A/N: 6267 words. ooft ouch ooft my heart. i dont like reader & fi fighting and this whole thing fucked me up bigtime. like bigtime bigtime. big angst, please heed the warnings. what do you think about this one? i like it even if it made me cryyyy

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

"Please," Oliver's lip trembles when he grabs your sleeve. He doesn't try and chase Felix after you all get back from the disastrous trip to his parents' house, perhaps part of him knew he wouldn't get through to him in this state, so he latches on to you instead, "you- you know," and even just the helpless sense of desire in his voice is familiar to you, "I just wanted to be his friend, be your friend; be close to you both -" Oliver's fidgeting with your sleeve and your heart's breaking for him, despite the betrayal of his lies.

"Ollie-" you sighed, but he took both your hands in his, tears gathering in the beautiful blue eyes you've come to care so deeply about in the past year.

"I never meant any harm," he insists. His hands are shaking.

"I know, Ollie," you finally concede, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

"He won't listen to me- won't believe me; please, please, I need you to believe me, I need Felix -" and though he can't seem to finish the request, it's enough. The lies he's told, what they mean for the friendship you've all forged, it makes you feel more than a little queasy, but you think you understand him. At least better than Felix would in this moment.

"I'll try," though your tone doesn't inspire confidence, "just give him space, give him time -"

"I don't have time," Oliver croaks out weakly, gave dropping to the floor, "he'll throw me out tomorrow and never look at me again," this time, when his grip on your hands tightens, it becomes almost painful, face scrunching up as if dreading the tears he was about to shed, the things he was about to say; "and even if you don't hate me the way he does, I'll be losing you too."

Your silence speaks volumes. You hate that he's right.

"You know you're the only hope I've got left." Oliver's nails dig into your skin, but your hands don't shake.

"I will try, that's all I can do."

By the time you get to your room, Felix is already cutting up lines of coke with a delicate little razor from one of the various stashes you and the other wards of the Saltburn Estate had hidden throughout the building over the years. He doesn't look up when you enter, quietly, and furiously focused on the task at hand, cross-legged in the middle of your bed.

Sitting behind him, you lean in to press your forehead between his shoulders, sighing deeply.

"Yeah," Felix mumbles, "it's a bit like that, isn't it?"

Squeezing your eyes closed, all you can see is the love and desperation in OIiver's eyes as he'd held you back, begged for your understanding, forgiveness, friendship -

"You never loved someone so much you'd do anything to keep them around?" You asked softly, and feel Felix go still, "you never lied about your family because you were worried about how people would react if they knew the truth?" The more you consider, the less anger you feel towards what Oliver had done.

"You're different," Felix's voice is carefully neutral. There's a pause, a snort, a line of white powder going up his nose, "you didn't pretend that your dad died just to get sympathy out of me," he points out, already picking at the threads of similarity that you'd laid before him in hopes of softening the betrayal he felt so strongly.

Then he's moving again, doing things you're still not sure of, forehead still pressed to the fabric of his shirt between his shoulders. Sighing, louder this time, you go to say something more, to try and argue your case further, but Felix cuts you off. It's the sharpest he's ever been with you, you think, practically orders you not to talk about this anymore.

Then, he shifts, he reaches for you behind himself, and you move with him, without prompting. Felix leans back, and you move to his side, allow yourself to settle your head on his chest, looking up at him. One hand loosely draped over you, Felix tucks his other behind his head, eyes closed; even if they were open, he wouldn't be looking at you.

"Just shut up about Ollie, just shut up -" his tone is much softer now, but his words still bite more than you're used to, "I don't want to hear anything about fucking Oliver Quick right now." There's a nausea twisting in your gut that you're unfamiliar with, heavy and upsetting, that you somehow know has everything to do with Felix's tone. Part of you feels so embarrassed for even feeling like this, for being so wrapped up in pleasing him that even the slightest hint of disapproval for the first time in years has you so viscerally uncomfortable.

The other part of you ducks your gaze, and curls up against his side, obedient.

"Sure, Fi."

A long silence, softened only by Felix's deep breathing for several long moments before you finally feel him relax.

"I love you," it sounds almost like an apology. You wonder if he knows how to do that. Still, the nausea in your gut immediately begins to clear. This time, when you close your eyes, you try to just be present in the moment for what it is, Felix's arm around you, his steady heartbeat warm beneath your ear; you can find contentment here if you tried.

Much to your chagrin, Felix's mood and feelings of betrayal also meant he was no longer interested in the full costume you'd put together for him for Oliver's birthday party. He's well aware his mother would be appalled if he just showed up in jeans and a shirt, so he reluctantly pulls on the wings you'd spray painted up on the roof a few days before.

"I put time into this, Fi," you pleaded softly, looking at the rest of the costume you'd put together hanging sadly, untouched in his wardrobe.

"Maybe I just want to save it for a happy occasion," Felix refused to even sit down at the dresser, despite where you'd neatly set out both of your accessories for the night. He doesn't even spare the various, gold accoutrements that you'd curated for his costume a second glance, simply fusses with his hair in a way that won't even last.

"You're being ridiculous about this," you finally voice, unable to stop yourself, "he's still Our Oliver, his family doesn't change that -"

Felix goes still in the mirror, expression displeased when he meets your eyes in the reflection. Nausea again. You never want him to look at you like this ever again; you half want to apologise already.

"I don't care about his family, I care about how I don't know if I can believe anything he says! He lied to you, to me, he was clearly lying to his family, considering they have no idea he'd be nothing but a fucking joke at uni if it wasn't for me!" The outburst blindsides you, it seems to even blindside Felix, who has to take a few moments to compose himself before he can look you in the eyes again. Softly, that look of betrayal is turned upon you, "how can you be okay with that?"

A million answers blow through your mind - love, compartmentalisation, hypocrisy - but none feel right. There's no way for you to justify this to Felix, at least, not one that would make him happy, make him understand.

"Our Oliver-" but as he's standing, he cuts himself off, shaking his head, "Your Oliver -" but the words get stuck in his throat. After a beat, he scrubs his face over his hands, "I just don't understand," far calmer, he lets out a deep breath and continues, "how you got over this so fast," but before you can answer, his eyes open, and there's no fire, nor fury, just hurt; "and I need you right now, but not if you're going to be like this."

Oh, you're going to be sick.

It's apologies that spew out of you, nervous, still only half ready, and regretting every word that made Felix look at you like that. He tries awkwardly to tell you that it's not that bad, that he just wishes it felt like you were on his team. Insisting that you are gets you a weak smile from your best friend, but he still leaves seeming unconvinced.

There are voices outside, on the grounds. The party has begun, the sun will be set soon.

Half of your costume hangs up beside Felix's, your elegant, green gossamer robe shining next to the matching, gold gossamer pirate shirt that you had made for Felix. Neither leave the wardrobe, and perhaps you are underdressed in what was basically a set of incredibly ornate, bejewelled, and bedazzled lingerie, and boots, but you couldn't even bring yourself to care.

Perhaps, you consider, if Felix had blown up before you'd gotten this much on, you'd be as dressed down as he was for the event.

Before you leave, however, you go to double check yourself in the mirror, and don't think to knock. Oliver catches sight of you in the mirror before you properly realise he's there. Both freeze, both deer trapped in each other's proverbial headlights. Both with red-rimmed eyes. You wonder if he knows, if he waited with baited breath and an ear pressed to the bedroom door as Felix tore him down and you immediately gave him up to keep your best friend happy.

"You look like a dream," Oliver's voice is hoarse, and he turns to properly face you, to give your costume a generous look over, "merry wanderer of the night," he offers, meeting your gaze again. The line, pulled straight from the play upon which the whole night was based, was one you'd gleefully recounted to him when you told him you would be going as Puck.

There's a slight, sad smile on his lips, a shyness to the way he leans against the counter, but none of the awkwardness he carries around others. There, in his boxers alone, you realise how vulnerable he truly is in this moment, the moment you've so callously interrupted. But Oliver doesn't call you out, nor does he shy away from your gaze.

All words have escaped you in this moment, however. Even the idea of Felix's reaction to his moment makes you feel ill, but part of your heart still breaks for Oliver, for this boy so overwhelmed with love that he would do anything for it.

"I can go," Oliver says softly, apologetically, when you seem frozen even still. It breaks you out, however, and you shake your head vigorously.

"No, its okay Ollie."

"Your," he says slowly, pointedly, "Ollie." He'd heard. Fuck; how much? "I heard all of it," he admits slowly, approaching you. This time, you are the wild animal, cornered in the bathroom. Oliver doesn't look at you like prey, he doesn't approach you like a predator; he doesn't want to spook you, "I didn't mean to get between you and Felix," his voice is soft, and he sniffles a little, but tries to smile through it, "ever; back at Oxford, over Summer, ever."

But you can't bring yourself to look at him. Gently, you loop a finger through the fine, silver chain around his throat, keeping your gaze focused on it without ever tugging it too hard.

"I'm trying," you whisper, voice watery despite your best effort, tears gathering in your eyes, "but I -"

Oliver pulls you into a hug as the damn finally bursts, and the tension, the pressure of the day that had already been pressing down upon you finally breaks. Oliver lets you cry on his shoulder, petting your hair gently.

"But you're a good dog," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your temple, and you're too distraught to catch the echoes of resentment in his tone.

"It's all I know how to be!"

"I know, pet, I know."

Once you've calmed down, you apologise for your outburst, for having him comfort you at a time like this. There's something different about him, about his smile, the look in his eyes, as he just assures you that it's fine, that he's going to still try and enjoy his night.

After cleaning yourself up and fixing your makeup, finally you make it downstairs. There's more people on the first floor than you'd been expecting, so you have to worm your way through the crowd to search for Felix.

"My gentle puck, come hither!" Felix voice rises through the crowd; if your ears could prick up, they probably would. Just the brightness in his voice lifts you from your melancholy, and when you finally reach him you're beaming.

And he's already drunk.

Which you would like to be too. As if anticipating your requests, he puts two fruity looking drinks in your hands, and picks up another two with a wide smile. You trot along behind him as he cuts a path through the crowd towards the sofas where your friends from Oxford had found themselves. A cheer rises when they see you, all glad for your company, all desperate to hear how your Summer had been so far.

At first, you're simply sitting on the arm of the sofa, beside Felix, bright and animatedly engaging in conversation with the others. Felix finishes his first drink and his arm goes around India, tucked up against his other side, but as soon as his second drink is finished, and you've leaned across him to put your own empty cup on the coffee table between you all, he uses it as an excuse to pull you into his lap.

"Felix," India says when she means what the fuck are you playing at right now? Felix gives a surprisingly cold smile, his hand slipping from her shoulder, moving lower to grip her side rather possessively. You simply wait, ready to move at a moment's notice.

"What?" There's something biting in Felix's voice, something that sounds so uncharacteristically mean as he raises his voice enough for the group to hear, "aren't you all still deluding yourselves about me and Y/N? Don't you still think we're related - or whatever it was Farleigh told you all?" Immediately the tension in your little circle of friends spikes. Felix's hand is practically between your thighs, gripping your thigh like he owns you. In any other circumstance you'd probably enjoy this, but every single one of your friends is suddenly looking at you like they'd never seen you before.

"You hot people disgust me," India finally breaks the tension flippantly, and everyone else cackles with laughter. Felix does actually grin at her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"No we don't," he teases gently, and India tries to continue playing at being annoyed, by insisting that she needs something stronger than the bar could offer. As she stands, she looks back, holding out her hands to you and Felix.

"Come on, disgusting hot people; I know you're both already high and probably want some more."

"Knew there was a reason I liked you, India," you grinned, glad to have escaped that encounter without much of a mental or physical scratch, though Felix does make a point of grabbing your ass as you stand, even with India holding his other hand.

However you're another line deep in the bathroom, with India, Felix, and two of the others who'd followed along, when that good mood evaporates. Oliver stands in the door, waiting, watching; you're the first to notice him, to catch his gaze properly, but all he does is clear his throat. Felix looks to him when Oliver finally calls his name, but pointedly acts like he doesn't in the next moment.

"Can I, er, talk to you for one second?" Oliver asks faintly, but is met with no response. Instead of looking at Oliver, Felix momentarily flicks a frustrated gaze at you, like he feels your sudden discomfort and fidgeting is a personal betrayal, "you can't ignore me forever," Oliver tries, but Felix gives him a cold smile.

"I can try."

"Fi," you hissed, but all you get is another glare.

"Felix, we need to talk," Oliver was begging now, but he turned his attention to you, pleading, "can you get him to please listen to me, just for a moment -" but his words have your heart freezing in your chest. You can't even stutter Felix's name out before he's dismissing you both.

"I tried being nice about this," Felix huffed, "but if you're still insisting on playing Devil's Advocate for him, the both of you can fuck off and go bother the rest of the party." He relights his cigarette, but he doesn't even look at you once. One more time you try, reaching out, apology on your tongue, but he shrugs you off and finally gives a cutting look, "no I told you, okay? You're over it; fucking great for you. I'm not, and I don't have to be, so piss off and be over it away from me."

You stand, momentarily unsteady on your feet before you regain your balance and head to the door. Everything in your mind is a mess of emotions. The drugs and alcohol are sending you into overdrive, though neither is the reason you're feeling so sick. Still, while you know where Felix is coming from, one look at Oliver as you reach the door and you can't help but stop. Turning back, you hope Felix can read how damn hurt you are by all this;

"I'm not a monster for having a heart, Felix."

And you take some small victory from the surprise in his eyes. Before he can respond, however, you grab Oliver's hand and lead him away.

With another two fruity drinks, you and Oliver sit on the edge of the fountain outside, watching the revelry, mirroring each other's weary slump.

"How are you finding your birthday party?" You asked lamely after a few minutes. Oliver took a few moments to deliberate, while you sipped down your drink quite quickly.

"Don't know anyone," he says mildly, "and the people I do know think I'm a joke -" right, he'd heard Felix's earlier comments about the group from Oxford's feelings, "and I was aware kind of from the start of knowing youse," he casts his gaze to you now, turning to you, eyes meeting yours, "that my two best friends were bonded like those cats at the shelter, the kind you can't separate from each other or they'll cry all day and refuse to eat until you put them back together," the smile he gives you is humourless, and doesn't even reach his eyes, "but one hates me and the other has no spine," he shrugged like he hadn't just insulted you, going back to people-watching, "so I don't think it'll go down as my best birthday ever."

"I have a spine," you scowled, as if straightening your posture proved his point at all.

"Why? You don't need it," still as mild as before, Oliver takes a long, loud sip of his drink, "you've got Felix."

"I'm trying to help you, Oliver, I swear -"

"You don't know how to stand up for yourself, Y/N," this time, the look that he gives you is simply pitying, "I'm sorry I asked you to try and stand up for me." The words ache like a punch to the gut, "you're not even trying to help me for me, or for how much you supposedly love me; you love that I love Felix."

"Oliver, I love you!" You insisted through angry tears and gritted teeth, "how your mind works, how you figure things out, the books you like, the way you're constantly watching and cataloguing and remembering, it shows you care about the world around you and the people in it. I love that you're obsessive and ambitious and that you can be ruthless -" it comes out messy and unrehearsed, but you slowly see the shock and genuine awe on Oliver's face as he comes to terms with the fact that you're being genuine. For the first time all evening, you think you see guilt in his eyes. It's gone too fast, Oliver turning away.

"I love you too," he says gently, following it carefully with, "but we both know who you crawl into bed with at the end of every night." Then, under his breath, sounding so forlorn, "do not separate."

"Oliver-" but he stands, stretches, and finishes off his beer.

"He's probably already missing you, waiting to forgive you," he puts his empty beer bottle down on the edge of the fountain, and for just a moment, he reaches out and gently holds your face. Nothing is said, but there's endless, unreadable emotions in his eyes as he gazes into yours.

Then he's gone.

Making your way back to the estate itself, you forgo looking for Felix, half ashamed of the idea that Oliver was right, and instead slip beneath the velvet rope that cordoned off the upper floors of the house. Back in your bedroom, the stash of coke Felix had raided before the party was still reasonably well stocked, and the bottle of bourbon that you'd stashed in the broken piano last Christmas was thankfully untouched. There was something seriously sad, you think to yourself, about drinking and snorting alone in your room, upstairs from a party where you know your friends are all doing it too. But you don't want to see them. Don't want to see anyone.

The remainder of yours and Felix's matching outfits taunt you silently from the closet door on which they hang. They're beautiful and vapid and cold; you hate them.

"Oh, sorry, didn't realise you were -" it's Felix at the door - of course it is, who else would it be? - who startles you out of your thoughts. There's no frustration in his eyes anymore, no anger, just surprise. His gaze roams over you, from the drugs balanced on your knee to the half-full bottle cradled in your lap, "you okay?" Oliver's right, of course. Oliver's right about a lot of things.

"Yeah," you sniffle, taking another swig of the drink, "what did you need?"

"Think they're gonna sing happy birthday to Ollie soon," Felix leans against the doorframe. You share in an awkward silence for a long moment.

"That why you're here?"

"I came up to see if there was any of that coke left from before," he says, looking at the mirror on your knee and the still mostly full baggie on the bed next to you. Then, he gives a sheepish little grin, "yeah," he admits.

"We should be down there," you say without thinking. Felix's expression falls, and he kicks at the doorframe for a moment, "you do care about his family," spills from you; you're not even sure from where. Felix's expression grows darker.

"Why are you so insistent about doing this?"

"Because you love him, Felix," you remind him firmly, before putting down the bottle and rolling up the already significantly curved bill beside you, "and he loves you, and you know that," picking up the mirror, you make short work of the last line to avoid looking at Felix. Dragging your finger across the glass, you pick up the last of the residue, wiping it on your gums. Your hands remain busy as you pack the remainder of it all into the little, wooden box it was kept in, as you spoke, "you hate the parts of you he figured out, the buttons he learned how to push; Oliver," you snapped the box shut, looking up at him, "was too good to be true, and that's why you're hurt; you're scared it's like Eddie all over again, too good to be true -"

"You shut up about Eddie -" Felix warned, but you stood, box in hand, approaching him with a fierce, intoxicated determination.

"Eddie was never too good, you were just in love! Eddie wasn't even loyal!" You cried, shoving him with the box, letting out a desperate sentiment that you'd let fester in the darkest part of your heart for over a year, "he was never going to be loyal! He never loved you as much as you loved him! Never! And you were so blinded by how happy he seemed to be with this 'better life' you were offering him, you could never bloody see it -"

"You are drunk and high," Felix spits at you, clearly holding himself back from tears.

"But all I ever want is you to be happy," hanging your head, you push the box into his grip and stumble back to the bed, searching for the bottle, "why can't you trust me about this?"

"Oliver fucking lie to me, betrayed me -"

"Us!" You shouted, unscrewing the lid with vigour, "to keep you in his life. You just don't like what the lies he used to keep you around say about you." And with that you furiously started chugging more of the drink.

"I'm done with you," Felix's voice is weak, hands coming up to cover his face. Lowering the bottle, all you can do is stare at him. It's like you've been splashed with ice water.

"Fi -"

"I need space; I need you out of my room for the rest of Summer."

"Fi, please -"

"I thought you were fucking better than this!" He snapped, finally stalking away, while you were too disorientated to even go after him.

The first thing you manage to do is stumble to the bathroom and throw your guts up into the sink. Physically you feel a bit better, but the nausea you can now tell is psychological. Downstairs, though you don't know how much time has passed, the house has transformed itself into a rave. Too bright. Too hot. Too sticky. You think you catch sight of Ollie, but your gaze quickly moves to Felix, silhouetted by neon and haze, looking like an angel. Beside him, India sparkles and giggles and her hands are all over him. You want him to be happy, you don't want to interrupt but you have to -

Someone catches you before you faceplant in the middle of the dancefloor, and it turns out it is Oliver.

"You look like a bit of a mess," he says, aiming for a light, joking tone, but it almost sets you off. Seeing you about to start crying, Oliver starts to panic, and suggests the two of you get some air. Though you want to protest, you see Felix and India, hand in hand, making their way to the side doors. Oliver, champagne in one hand, has his other arm under yours, supporting you as the two of you made your way out too.

The night air is cool, a sharp contrast from inside, so sharp it almost stings.

"I should'a kept my mouth shut," you whimpered, "I didn't need a spine, why did I listen to you?" Oliver is simply quiet, listening to you ramble, getting the gist of what had happened between you and Felix as you slowly made your way to the maze.

"I don't wanna go in," you whispered at the entrance, looking down it's tall, green corridor. Oliver looked at you strangely.

"Worried you'll get lost?"

"I could never get lost, Felix made sure of that plenty of times." Carefully, you extract yourself from Oliver, sitting cross-legged by the entrance of the maze, looking out over the rest of Saltburn with your back to the hedges; Oliver watches you curiously, "I can wait for Fi here."

"I can't wait," Oliver finally says, "I don't have the time. I have to try."

You, surprisingly serene and content with your decision, more at peace than you'd been during the entire walk over, make no attempt to stop him. You just tell him you'll be here when he gets back. This time you genuinely smile, insisting he go in without you.

"I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

So he goes, and you listen to his footsteps retreating. After a few minutes, however, he returns.

"I think you need this more than I do," and he hands you the bottle of champagne he'd been carrying. Turns out there's only really a quarter of the bottle left, but at least you think it won't be enough to make you sick again.

As frustrated as Felix could get, he's never not forgiven you. That's all you can think about as you finish off the bottle.

You would apologise. You would make it up to him. You could make this better again.

Except...

Hang on, wait, who was that who just ran out of the maze? Someone ran out of the maze? You were pretty sure someone did anyways... maybe India, if Oliver had confronted -

Oliver is the second to escape the maze. Instead of heading directly back, he waits, unseen for Felix to leave, observing the way he'd stumble out, not even glancing around enough to see you on the ground in the shadow of the maze itself. Once he was sure he was alone, Oliver crept over to your catatonic body, mouth agape, bottle still clutched but empty in one hand. Still breathing, though it was shallow, he checked your pulse only to feel a heartrate like a humming bird. If he called out now, Felix could hear him, could get help, could save your life.

But Felix would want for nothing as long as he had you by his side.

When you start convulsing, Oliver leaps away, startled. But he watches, and remains quiet. He takes the bottle, and just for a moment presses his forehead to yours.

"I'm sorry," it almost gets caught in his throat, "I loved you, I promise I did."

And he leaves.

Oliver wakes to a knock on the door. While Felix doesn't exactly seem happy to see him, it appears he has bigger things to worry about.

"Is Y/N in here?" He cuts right to the chase; there's dark circles under his eyes.

"Have you gotten any sleep?" Oliver yawns. Felix shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"I've checked literally every other room in this house," ignoring him, Felix explains himself, "I told them last night I wanted them to stay somewhere else, but I didn't mean it," he frowns, peering around Oliver as best he could, trying to see for himself. Oliver, who already knew this, but still played dumb, went wide-eyed.

"You didn't talk to them last night?"

"I was talking to them a lot last night -"

"They were waiting outside the maze for you; they were there when I left."

Oliver's never seen Felix run so fast.

It takes Duncan informing the rest of the family over breakfast that a gardener has spotted Felix sat by the edge of the maze for the past hour, to clear up his whereabouts.

"And have you heard from Y/N?" Elspeth adds, though Venetia buts in.

"Probably at the maze with Felix," she rolls her eyes; Oliver looks at his eggs, his runny, sickening eggs, and keeps his mouth shut. Elspeth sighs and requests someone go and collect them, tell them that lunch is ready, and promptly directs a smile at Oliver, asking how he'd enjoyed his birthday.

Oliver's halfway through an awkward thanks, assuring her it was grand, before Duncan re-enters. For the first time since Oliver first laid eyes on him, he looks genuinely shaken.

"I, uh, I do apologise," his words keep getting caught, and he can't seem to focus his gaze for too long, "I have some tragic news; Captain Y/N has passed away."

The world stops.

Felix Catton sits in the shadow of the hedge maze with you, his best friend, the love of his life, dead in his arms.

"I thought you were fucking better than this!"

His last words to you echo endlessly in his head as he cradles you to him. He'd found you slumped over at a painful angle, clearly having been sitting cross-legged on the grass, waiting, just as Oliver had said, still wearing part of the outfit you'd prepared. You looked so cold, so he'd wrapped you up in the robe he'd been wearing, maroon; you'd always said it was your favourite of his, but you'd never wear it, said it looked better on him.

"Can't believe I made you wait," it wasn't the first time he'd muttered it since finding you, "I'm so sorry, I won't do it again," he assured, and leaned in, pressing his forehead to your cold shoulder and collarbone, "and I didn't mean it about needing space from you; I couldn't even do it for one night, I got so lonely I spent the entire night searching all hundred and bloody something rooms we have, for you."

"Felix?" Venetia's voice is the first one he's heard since Oliver's, and it shakes, "Feef?" And maybe it's the way he can tell she's started crying, or the nickname he hasn't heard since he was six, but it all hits him at once. Finally he starts to cry, the shock giving way to anguish as Venetia drapes herself over him at the sight of you. Farleigh goes into shock, silent, falling to his knees before he brings his head down too, completely shutting down.

Oliver doesn't know how to react, doesn't know if he can. He stands back from the others, back from even James and Elspeth, silent. He did what he had to do. It takes him a long time to realise he's even started crying too.

Elspeth and Sir James try to keep up a sense of normalcy around the house, but barely anyone is able to keep up. Farleigh and Venetia show up and barely speak, Oliver can't bring himself to even look at anyone at the dining table, and Felix hasn't shown up for three days straight. He's been locked in his room, and none of them blame him.

None of the others know that he comes out at night. Well, he opens the door during the day since the staff have started leaving plates of food for him at his mother's request. But during the night, Felix leaves his room to crawl into Oliver's bed. Oliver never makes comments, but he always makes room, and Felix still hasn't kicked him out of the house. Small steps to victory.

"All those lies, all that shit you told us, you did it because you'd do anything to keep us around," on the third night, Felix speaks into the darkness, back to Oliver under the expensive sheets.

"To keep you around," Oliver corrected quietly, "I knew as long as I had you around, I would have them too." After a few moments, he could hear Felix start to sniffle. Carefully, testing his luck, Oliver shuffled around to face Felix. Wriggling closer, he draped an arm over Felix's chest and pulled him close, pressing himself against Felix's back. In the moment, Felix takes Oliver's hand and laces their fingers together.

"They always loved you, Felix; I never saw anything like it."

Small steps to victory.

At your funeral, Felix finally sees your parents. He wonders if looking at them is anything like looking at the idea of who you would have grown into. He doesn't think so; their expressions are so cold beneath their performance of grief.

They do, however, seek him out, ask his name, and hand him a framed photo. They say they won't be needed it anymore. It's you and Felix beneath the Eiffel Tower, arms around each other, each of you using your free hand to together form a heart between you, laughing at something just off camera. Oliver makes a disdainful remark about your parents, but slips his hand in Felix's, and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Elspeth asks if Felix wants to keep the photo in his room, and when he remarks that he doesn't know, she suggests it gets placed with the other family photos over the fireplace in the television room. It fits in perfectly.

"I love you," Felix mumbles in the dead of night, pressed up along Oliver's back, lips in his hair, arm around him, "like proper love you." Oliver is quiet, "the kind of love I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but now I'm terrified that the reasons I love you aren't even real."

It's been a few weeks, he's intergraded back into life at home, but has taken a leave of absence from Oxford. As has Oliver. He still hasn't left Saltburn, he wonders if he ever will, if he ever has to.

"What parts?" Oliver said, voice barely more than a whisper, "I'll never lie to you again; I want you to know the truth of me." There's a rush of electricity, his fingers and toes feel all tingly; he doesn't want to sound too enthusiastic, but can't help but feel a giddy rush.

"I like how you can figure heaps of stuff out, but," Felix hesitates and hums, "I don't think I like what you figured out about me," he admits.

"I'll never bring that up again," Oliver reassures him, but Felix just hums once more, "and I figured out more stuff about you, good stuff; I figured out what made me love you too."

Felix presses a kiss to the back of his head. He doesn't smile, but that's to be expected nowadays. Felix doesn't really smile a lot anymore.

But Oliver takes it for what it is; his victory.

{ epilogue }

[miiilowo]

You should make the list of ways you were correct anyways, just for fun ~

eh. sure. why not

Any time a post of mine about afton got a decent amount of notes (aside from fanart) there'd usually be comments on it complaining about how "those" fans [note: i am one of "those" fans] have no idea what his personality actually is, and that they water him down, woobify and mischaracterize him, all while listing things off that are just genuinely part of william's character. while yes, there are fans that DO do that, the stuff they talk about is almost never an actual example of this happening. this is likely due to people not viewing him as a person and just a bland cold serial killer with no personality whatsoever

obviously movie william is not 1:1 with game or book william, but they're gonna be similar in personality. so heres some stuff ive seen people complain was "mischaracterization" thats present in the movie:

hes emotional/sentimental and actually cares about things - william calls the owner of freddys sentimental when talking to mike about the pizzeria (and we all know the owner is william), he visibly regrets/is shocked by the fact he stabs vanessa, he gets really worked up when things dont go his way, very quick to anger, etcetera. one could argue that william is lying about being sentimental and just wants to give an excuse for why the place is still around, but there'd be no reason to do that, considering mike has no idea anyone even died there, let alone the fact HE killed the kids. we know williams sole motive for keeping the place around definitely isnt just sentimental reasons, but i doubt that what he said doesnt have at least an ounce of truth to it. he holds onto trophies from his kills as well if him keeping garretts toy plane is anything to go off of

he actually likes bunnies and has an affinity for them - he has a rabbits foot on his keyring and has a letter/paper holder that's rabbit shaped. the letter holder isnt actually in any shots, but it was present on set on his desk

his personality isnt one note and dull/cold, and hes superstitious & a little offputting/jittery - the rabbits foot on his keyring ties into this idea, because if he actually believes it to be a good luck charm, then it shows some "quirkiness" for lack of a better term that people adamantly refuse to admit is in his personality. this also shows how hes superstitious, which is an idea thats present in the books, and people also like to pretend he isnt. he pokes fun at mike in a somewhat lighthearted way multiple times, he has a has a FRAMED PARTICIPATION AWARD on his wall for christs sake. the kids hair colors match the animatronics they were stuffed into (minus bonnie). he matched them. he made them match he paired them up for fun. not only that, but he gets visibly nervous and antsy when he realizes who mike is, and clearly really wants him to take the job. gets kind of weird. gets a kinda strange. he likes when things match afterall (symmetry, my friend!)

he's theatrical and over the top in personality on purpose (this is also essentially an argument for the last point) - in the books he goes on and on about performance and how he viewed both dave miller & springtrap as characters he plays, and i seriously wouldn't doubt that it'd be the same here, considering how cartoonishly evil he is while wearing the springbonnie suit. the voice changer, the little flourishes he adds to his speech, the fact he wipes off the knife when there wasnt any blood on it in the first place. for what. for what reason other than for pizzazz and intimidation points. the "oh, this is going to be so much fun!" line, and especially his playful demeanor disappearing the second he takes off the mask

he cares about his kids/likes kids - his expression when he stabs vanessa and she falls to the ground says enough i think. obviously hes not a GOOD parent, but being a good parent and caring about your kids are two wildly different things. you can be abusive and still care. most abusers dont process that they are abusers but thats a conversation for another time. william prioritizes himself over anyone else, but he still looks shocked after he stabs his daughter, and i refuse to blame that on bad acting because its MATTHEW LILLARD. the training tape for mike also states that he enjoyed entertaining kids, and yes, while that could be a lie, do you seriously think the creator of what essentially is chuck e cheese would actually despise children. the fact he gives garretts toy plane to vanessa could be a point toward him in this department as well, though its also just as likely he collects them as trophies. i like to think its a mix of both

i included these points specifically because i also have a plethora of evidence for them from both the books and the games, and theyre the ones i most commonly see people stating are unrealistic for afton.

its not a lot of stuff, but its not like he has a lot of screentime. lets be real

i do ADORE how egotistical and shortsighted they made him in the movie, though everyone can generally agree on that being a staple trait of his

[thatoneguydownthestreet]

Hey so how would lilia feel about apocalypse yuu and the obvious world ending war and after effects from where yuu is from?

Thank you for feeding us apocalypse yuu <3

I started maniacally laughing as soon as I read the name lilia

FEM ALIGNED DNI

How Lilia Vanrouge reacts to the war and its effects: 

Lilia would say your relationship was pretty good. As nameless and as vague as it was. It was...peaceful. 

It was nice.

You were learning to trust people, to trust him. To let your guard down just a little bit more each day. To speak your mind and make decisions and to just simply walk with him without looking over your shoulder every few seconds. 

He’ll never forget that feeling of happiness and relief when you fell asleep with him right there next to you for the first time, or when you saw him enter a room and he saw your shoulders drop just that much. 

Once, in the pop music club room, Cater had asked him how he got you to relax around him so easily. He only gave a small chuckle and a vague response, as he himself didn’t truly know at the time. 

He still doesn’t. only having a few loose theories here and there, but he is grateful to be able to know you just a little bit more than the average person. To be able to live this long to see you come here, to this world, scared and confused and hopelessly, utterly lost, and then to see you start to really live for the first time.

He hopes he hopes that he’ll be blessed enough to live to see you thrive. 

Honestly? he thinks it’s because of something simple. So, so simple

He listens.

Not to say the others don’t of course, they listen!

they just ...don’t really believe you. 

Lilia doesn’t blame them, honestly.

It truly feels like you exaggerate your past and lack of knowledge at times.

The most obvious example he can think of is when epel, that pretty first year boy, gifted you one of those beautiful red apples that grew on his parents farm, only for you to look at it with confusion and distrust. 

You didn’t know what an apple was.

You didn’t know what most fruits were period. (Or cheese, or most meats,or most vegetables, he thinks he saw you reboot like an old computer the first time you saw milk) Often confusing the names and refusing to eat them if you forgot what they were. 

It was at that point where he could tell your rag tag little group of friends started to doubt your words. Just a bit.

He would have too, if not for the clear, heavy distress that simply couldn’t be faked that was ever so evident on your face when he'd asked.

“Perfect, do you really not know what any of these fruits are”, he has taken extra care to keep this conversation playful. He wasn’t trying to embarrass you after all. 

You simply huffed, a bit of frustration showing. 

Lilia ignored the little happy spark he got from seeing you show what you were feeling. You were getting better at that.

“Of course I don’t! we don’t have fresh fruit in the tunnels! Not to mention things like "cheese" and dont even get me started on good meat!”, you said it like it so obvious...

You never explained what the tunnels were. But lilia could guess.

He had a bad feeling about them either way....

So yes. The others listened. But you could both see crystal clear that they took what you said with a heavy grain of salt. 

Lilia on the other hand, believed every word. Or at least tried too.

So when you asked him to swing by Ramshackle saying you wanted to show him something, how could he refuse?

Really, how could he?

....

Lilia Vanrouge didn't know what he was expecting. He knew it was probably something big, judging from your earlier tone of voice.

But this....

this was just sickening.

you sat shirtless on the floor, with your arms out in the air in front of you. 

with your scars on full display. 

there were (oh great seven) there were slash marks all across your chest. Ragged and uneven and ugly. Looking like whatever cut them in took extra care to truly rip and tear your flesh apart.

There were burn marks on your shoulders and your stomach. Looking like they came from both fire and electricity. The electric burns spiderwebbing their way up the side of your neck and around your sides.

There were what looked to be claw marks and dog bites on your stomach as well, like you were almost frantically mauled to death and just barely made it out with your life.

There was a circular hole he didn't know the cause of on both sides of your right forearm, the underside scar being in the same spot but significantly worse.

There were like deep (deep) bruises that he could see everywhere on your body.

and then there were the marks on your back....

There were whip marks and lashes absolutely everywhere. Slashed across every which way, overlapping with each other and digging into your flesh. there were a few places that he swore had less skin than others. and oh God some of them only looked a few months old. 

Some of them were fresh when you came here.

Lilia didn’t know what the rest of your body looked like, but he already knew that your back was in the worst condition out of everything.

A small whimper snapped him out of his thoughts.

You were still on the floor, now sifting slightly, like you were embarrassed.

Embarrassed. What an odd little human.

Lilia immediately got down on the floor and sat in front of you, dust and possible bugs be damned.

He didn't touch you, only looking at your face and tried to make eye contact.

He tried his best to avoid looking at your neck. The lighting in this old dorm was bad but he swore he could still see a slash-

"Y/N....can you please look at me?", gentle. Just keep the tone gentle for now.

You still looked away from him. Lilia sighed.

Gently, oh so gently, he brought his hand to your face and slowly turned you head towards him.

You didn't flinch. Not once! And if lilia silently celebrated this feat later? Well, that was his business, and his alone.

Your eyes held a hint of fear when you looked at him. Fear of rejection.

Why would he ever push you away for something like this?

...Did someone do that before?

He heard you let out a faint, shaky breath, trying to find your voice.

He still didn't say anything. Just let you take your time. He couldn't rush something like this.

So he sat there, just out of reach as to not overwhelm you, as you took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself.

"So uh...I'm sure you have questions", you tried to say it in a way that lightened the mood, but your voice came out small.

It was fine. You couldn't lighten something like this either way.

The fae infront of you looked at you with the patients of a someone who's lived a dozen lifetimes and counting, which made you relax just a bit more.

Good.

"That I do perfect, but make no mistake, you are not obligated to answer"

"No! No, I- I want you to know. I wouldn't have shown you otherwise...", your voice trailed off.

Lilia took a deep breath.

Ok. Sharing scares.

Sharing memories.

Sharing war stories.

He could do that. He's done it before hundreds of times. He could do it again.

He just...didn't want to do it with someone so young. Someone who had absolutely zero business doing any type of life or death fighting.

Unfortunately, life was a total bitch and just loved putting him in these exact situations.

"Ok...ok. so why don't you tell me about...this one first", lilia pointed to the circular hole that went through your arm. He wanted to know what caused it.

(And maybe. Just maybe, find something that could heal it)

You sighed a bit. He thinks in relief? And smiled just a tad.

"Ok... that one was caused when me and a rescue team were trying to locate one of the medics that had gone missing during a surprise raid on the southwest base.... I wasn't even supposed to be there really...", you trailed off again. Your eyes glossing over a little.

Well. That couldn't happen.

The last thing he wanted here was for you to relive any one of these scars.

"What was the medics name?", it was the only thing he could ask, really. He didn't understand much of what else you had said.

You took a deep breath. Right.

You weren't there anymore.

"Caroline. Her name was Caroline. And she has a sister named Kate.... she's the one who put in the request for her to be found. Her body, at the very least"

Lilia began to wonder what exactly happened during these "raids". And why it required children to clean up the aftermath.

"Caroline. She was the medic. Ok.... you said you weren't supposed to be there?"

You looked a little sheepish at that.

"Yeah... our base was short on explosives manufacturers so they sent me. I was still learning but apparently I knew enough to go out there anyway. Heh...yeah, it didn't turn out too well"

....explosive manufacturers?

Lilia had met and worked with plenty if mages that specialized in more.. dramatic shows of magic. Especially during the wars.

How, lilia wondered, was something like that simulated without magic?

...He didn't know if he wanted to find out.

Instead of asking what in the seven an explosive manufacturer was, he asked:

"Why did you have to go though? Surely there were other uh...people in your field? That had nore experience", he kept his tone soft, trying to keep you unaware of the anger that was slowly building in his gut.

You silently shifted where you were sitting, looking like you regretted this more and more.

Damn.

Carefully, he added, "where were the others?"

"...active combat was getting more and more rare....no one thought- I mean- we just needed farmers and hunters and medics more than we needed weapons at the time"

The look on your face was...hard to describe as you struggled to explain your past situation as quick as possible. Like you would be punished if you didn't do it fast enough.

Hm...

"Y/N...", lilia started slowly

He had an idea of what your world was like.

He had a good idea of what your world was like.

And he was hoping that he wasn't right.

Your head raised a bit. Making eye contact with him and calming down just a little. Good. But he was going to feel all the more guilty about what he was about to say.

"Were you by chance, involved in any type of warfare?"

Lilia didn't know what you'd do. He had been ready for anything. For you to scream and shout and scratch and fight. For you to try and deny what you both already knew for whatever reason.

But you never did.

Instead, you just tilted your head to the side, like a confused dog.

Then you said:

"The war ended around...50 years ago? 60? I don't know for sure. The records were all destroyed, and the elders that fought in it are quickly dying out"

Lilia breath hitched.

All those scars. All their stories. Are from the aftermath? The aftermath of a finished war is still producing what lilia believes might very well be child soldiers.

And then you spoke again.

"When I was...I think twelve? I don't know. No one really knows their age. But I was definitely around twelve. The other manufacturers with more experience and a better idea if what they're doing got sent to the northern bases. They were needed there. They wouldn't tell me why"

...

...Twelve?

"Anyways, a couple months later -or were they weeks?- some time later, Caroline went missing"

Twelve?

"And I was really all they had to send"

Twelve.

"Now that I think about it...it was probably because they could replace me well enough if it didn't go as good as it did"

Fucking TWELVE?!

"As good as it did?!", lilias voice startled you out if your own head.

You looked at him. He looked back at you with an expression of exasperated rage.

You stopped talking.

"As good-as GOOD as it did!"

"Y/N. Y/N there is no good in this! This-" He grabbed your arm. Gesturing to the old, half healed scar that had started this whole mess "-is terrible! Dammit this is a crime against morality!"

...

...oh.

You looked at your arm. At the old shot gun would you had gotten after getting your arm stuck just outside if the entrance to the tunnel you and your temporary team had taken.

You could barely even remember why you had it out in the first place.

To throw a grenade you had put together on the spot? A stick of dynamite? You didn't know.

All you knew was that it hurt.

It still does sometimes.

You looked down at your own body.

They all still do sometimes.

....

Oh God...

You looked back at lilia, and the night resumed.

None of what you said will likely never be repeated outside if the walls of Ramshakle. Not all of it at least.

You didn't tell lilia about the scars on your back. You probably never will.

That was fine.

You told him what you had to do to survive, and he told you that you shouldn't have had to do that in the first place.

There were things that were never really explained. Like guns or grenades or that old, abandoned army tank that you played when you were a child.

("So it's a car...with a Canon on it?"

"Uhhhh. Sure. Yeah")

And other things...

Well. Turns out some scenarios are seen a bit different here.

You don't your age.

That's sad. Not bormal.

You don't know who your real parents are. The high infant mortality rate in the southeast base and the tunnels surrounding it that most mothers simply give away their children to avoid the pain of burying their babies.

That's a tragedy. A horrible, horrible tragedy.

Not normal.

Just like your life.

........

As soon as he got back to Diasomnia, lilia went to check on silver. Then sebek. Then malleus.

Silver and sebek were asleep. And he could see malleus taking a walk about the dorm from his bedroom window.

They were safe. Lilia felt his shoulders drop for the first time that night.

...and then he did something he never thought he would need do again.

Slowly, lilia walked over to his desk, lighting a tall, white candle and setting out an expensive piece of meat.

Wasn't the best offering, but it'll due for now.

He hoped it would at least.

Religion had long since died out of twisted wonderland as a whole, with only a few churches and temples remaining in certain parts in the shaftlands and a few of the older families in briar valley truly practicing in this modern age. 

Even so, later that night when his dorm and his children were all sound asleep, lilia knelt beside his bed and prayed to his old god for the first time in centuries.

He could only hope that they would be answered. 

[cultven]

His Last Plea

Deadpool X Reader

Content: ANGST, you break up with Wade but you honestly have a justified reason to do so, you both love each other, just lots of tears and angst ugh, no comfort, some cursing

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Just lots of angst and heartbreak

a/n: I DON’T KNOW WHY I WROTE THIS WADE ILY YOU DONT DESERVE THIS ;( As an apology if enough people want a part 2 I will gladly write one...

“You’re over two hours late.”

“I know baby, I was just-”

“You promised you would be here this time. You promised you would actually fucking try to show up. This is our third reschedule with my parents Wade, do you know how bad this looks on us.” You stand in your shared living room all dolled up, blankly staring at Wade who looks like a deer in headlights. Contrasting to your beautiful skin-tight dress, Wade was in his Deadpool suit, blood casually splattered on the fabric. Once again, he prioritized his mercenary work over your personal lives, and you are at your wits end with him. It was insulting. 

Wade carefully inched further into the apartment, testing the waters. “I’m sorry baby, really I just got caught up trying to kill this one guy. He locked himself in a safe room like a pussy and he’s like a really bad guy so I had to keep trying!” This apology may have worked the first or second time, but this was the third. The third time you had to explain to your parents Wade was a busy man, too busy for dinners with family. The third time you walked back to your apartment alone, fighting the tears lingering in your eyes. The third time you swore to yourself you wouldn’t put up with it any longer, and you were finally ready to uphold that promise. 

At this point Wade was only a few feet away from you before he ripped off his mask, finally revealing his distraught expression. His hand begins to reach out before you put a hand up, promptly stopping the action. “I can’t do it anymore Wade. I’m sorry.”

“No… Baby girl, just give me one more chance, I swear to God I will be better.” His voice was now shaky, scared of losing the one thing in his life that had kept him going all this time. He knows he should have been better and more attentive, but his profession has him chained to a post. Who was going to do the dirty work when Spidey works under a ‘no kill rule’?

“I’ve given you chances! You blew them, you always do.” It hurt to say these words to Wade, you still cared about him, which was why the situation stung so hard. You wish you could just forget about this night entirely and curl up with your sweet boyfriend on the couch, but you knew this was needed. If things didn’t change now they never would. 

“Please...” Wade choked up, sensing this wasn’t something he could smooth talk his way out of. “I’ll burn this damn suit, it’ll be a memory, long forgotten. We can set a new date for dinner and I will be there. I always will be from now on.” You wanted to believe the bargaining but you couldn’t gaslight yourself into thinking this would be it for Deadpool. You knew it wouldn’t be, even if Wade thought it was. 

“Wade be serious, you can’t give up your mercenary life. You will always return to it, whether you believe it or not. You are Deadpool and Deadpool is you.” You subconsciously began rubbing your arms, all of a sudden feeling small. Your eyes are now downcasted towards the floor, the confrontation killing you. You hated talking to him like this. “I know there is nothing I can say or do to stop you from being Deadpool, but it is killing you, Wade. It is killing us. Your immortality may spare you from physical death, but you will emotionally die on the hill of trying to use your powers for good. It takes a toll on people, constantly being out in the field as a human punching bag.” A shaky breath falls from your lips as you find the strength to look back up at the man in front of you. 

It was unsettling the way he was just standing there, looking at you. Actually, upon closer inspection, it seemed like he was looking just past you instead, dazed in his own world. As if he hadn’t heard a word you said. Abruptly, a stray tear fell down his face, wetting the tumored skin under it. “I want to be better for you.” That was all he said. 

“I know, honey.”

“So then let me be. Let me try.” His last hope, his last plea for you. Wade’s body was shaking, but he had yet to notice. 

“We both know I can’t.” That was all it took for a stream of tears to envelop both your faces. You were just two people madly in love living worlds apart. Truly the heartbreak was your own fault, you two should have figured it wouldn’t have worked. Between a superhero and a regular civilian, it never does. 

It was your turn to step forward, hand coming to rest on Deadpool’s cheekbones. Your thumb absentmindedly rubbed the wet tears away, feeling the surprisingly soft skin of his cheek. Now closer to his face you begin to whisper. “Do you know what it feels like to have your partner come home bloody every night? Bruised and battered. I know it doesn’t hurt and I know you can’t die, but what if that’s just because you haven’t found what can kill you yet? The stress of it all overtakes me, Wade. I stress so much because I love you so much and I can’t take it.” Your own set of tears grows heavier. With the already close proximity of your bodies, Wade pulls you into a hug where you both crumble to the ground. 

Tears mix and spill onto the fake hardwood floor as hands eagerly grasp the others’ bodies. “I don’t want to love you as much as I do. Because it just makes it so much harder.” You sob, your whisper now coming out with a much wetter tone. Wade only nods into your neck where his face hides, his arms grip your body tightly, knowing this may just be the last time he has the right to do so. 

After a long moment of selfishly drinking Wade in one last time, you lift your head and land a short, soft kiss on Wade’s cheek. You begin to rise, legs wobbling and chest heaving. You knew if you didn’t leave now you never would. “Baby?” Wade whimpers, knowing this is the end. 

“I have to go.” 

“Where?” It was a valid question, the two of you had shared an apartment for a year now. 

“My sister’s. She knows about everything now and said I could crash there for a bit.” Wade only nodded, not fully processing the fact that you were leaving. God damn it he wanted to rip his heart out from how much it hurt. When he heard about heartaches he didn’t think it was such a literal term. 

“Will you be back?”

“I hope not.” You walked past the mess of a man on the floor, reaching the apartment door. Taking one glance back, you took in one last image of what was once you and Wade’s oasis. “Goodbye Wade, maybe under different circumstances we could have been what we wanted to be.” You left, the door clicking shut. 

With that goodbye, Wade let himself fully break down, sobs racking through his chest. Perhaps he was doomed to a life of perpetual darkness and pain. He thought he had escaped the dark once you so gingerly entered his life, but of course, he had to fucking mess that up too. You were the one good thing to happen to him, the one person who treated him like an actual human instead of some fucked up science experiment. You made him feel loved, not ashamed of his appearance or crude sense of humor. You were love. 

Wade’s hands vigorously began ripping the now too-tight suit off his disgusting body. Oh God, how he wished he could just die. It really was one of God’s best fucking jokes he couldn’t. He began to crawl into your shared bed, laying on his respective side. If you could see him right now you would be exceptionally pissed at the fact he hadn’t showered beforehand and was now getting old crusted blood on your duvet. Well, good thing you couldn’t see him then, huh? Wade sighed, grabbing one of your pillows and bear-hugging it, attempting to capture your scent in his nose permanently. There he tried his best to lull himself to sleep despite the constant berating from the boxes and the consistent ache in his chest. 

[httpiastri]

❣️I dont know if this is really a prompt, but could you write “aha!” moments for Paul, Pepe, and Ralf? Like when did they realize they wanted to date their person, what made them have that “aha!” moment. Thank you for considering this request.

❣️ – send me a prompt and one/a few drivers and i'll tell you how i think they would react!!

paul aron

paul's "aha!" moment is when he realizes how comfortable he is around you. it usually takes a lot for him to open up, and he doesn't do it with just anyone, so the fact that he feels so naturally relaxed with you makes him understand his feelings for you.

the exact moment comes one day when you're just casually spending time together at your apartment after he has come back from a race weekend. he's exhausted, his body aching with sore muscles and his mind crying out for some rest. usually, he would prefer to just be alone at home and sleep it off – but for some reason, he has come to enjoy being with you instead. there's just something about the way that you cook your signature dish for him without him even having to ask, the way you brush your fingers through his hair as he's snuggled to your side... the way he lets himself laugh so wholeheartedly to all of your jokes (even the not so funny ones). he realizes that he can let his guard down around you, which in turn makes him realize how special you are to him and how much he wants (needs) to keep you in his life.

pepe marti

pepe can be a whole baby when he's sick. it's not something he himself has realized before, and he hasn't believed his parents or sisters when they told him so. but when he's sick and he suddenly has you there to take care of him, he realizes how annoying and childlike he must be.

it's in one of these moments that pepe realizes his feelings for you. he's been sick with a fever for days, barely able to eat or do anything other than sleep. but oh how much better his life became the second you stepped in through his door and told him that you'd help him out. you cook for him, you help him take his meds, you keep the apartment clean... all of it despite the fact that he's clinging onto you like a baby 99% of the time.

he feels so guilty because you're spending so much time just on him when you have millions of other things you could do for yourself; but at the same time, he loves it and he almost wishes he could spend the rest of his life like this.

ralf aron

the thing that makes ralf realize that he likes you is the fact that you seem to get along so well with the people in his life.

he adores the way you act around his family; the way you became friends with his siblings in no time, the way you play around with his niece and nephew like they're your own younger siblings, the way you're so polite yet relaxed around his parents. he loves the fact that his mom loves you, and he's thankful that his dad approves too, because his family is important to him and he needs someone who fits right in.

the first time he brought you along to a race, he was so relieved to find you fit right in there, too. if you're someone naturally extroverted, he's thankful that you show off your bubbly personality on the side of the track aswell. and if you're naturally more introverted or shy, then he's pleasantly surprised to see the way that you seem so comfortable around his team despite how nervous you were before. the fact that you chat to his teammates without any issues, that his engineers and other team members adore you, and that the first thing he wants to do is search for you in the crowd when he's done racing...

the way you look so natural by his side, like your part in his life is no big deal, no matter where or when. seeing you in his life, he realizes that you're the missing puzzle piece to fit right into his side.

[merakiui]

https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/744520913494671360/azul-who-was-spoiled-as-a-child-so-he-believes?source=share

Mera are you not going to elaborate 👀 on how,,,, absolutely entitled tako would be with his not so subtle complex and also riddle who deserves this okay? This is all he's truly ever wanted and by golly he will see it through to the end! He can get through any trial or tribulation so long as he can put it in you

And ofc the tweels are soooooo sex brained that ur opinion doesnt even matter, they dont even have to justifying themselves bc there is no justifying- they want you? They got you!

ACTUALLY........ now that you say this, my thoughts can be expressed more succinctly!!!!!

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, non-con, brief mention of slut-shaming, obsession, everyone is just really horrible here)

Azul's mother and stepfather who know their son could do no wrong, so they're shocked and appalled when you start accusing him of something so disgusting. How dare you accuse him of such a horrible crime! He would never! Your parent(s) sits down with the Ashengrottos to discuss and hopefully smooth things over. Azul is so sickeningly sweet and cordial throughout the entire thing while you look scared out of your skin. You insist he's lying, that you're telling the truth, that this is what happened. But then his stepfather threatens to take the matter to court. He knows the law. In the end, you're forced to drop it because your family can't afford a trial right now.

On your way out, Azul smiles at you. Even at twenty-something, he's still their spoiled brat. So entitled! Because he got everything he could ever want from his mother when he was a child, he automatically assumes he'll have you without any problems. But you just had to reject him in elementary. You just had to make a fool out of him in front of the class. It's your fault he couldn't have the one thing he's always wanted. But now he's so much better than his past self, and this time he's not taking no for an answer.

I think it would be a similar situation with Riddle. His mother refuses to believe her son could do any wrong, and the fact that you—some slut who shouldn't be near her Riddle to begin with—have the gall to throw around such wild accusations... You must have been raised so poorly to forgo basic manners and social etiquette. Riddle apologizes profusely for causing such trouble, but his story isn't the truth. You watch him lie to his mother's face and she believes him because he's Riddle Rosehearts, the paragon of pristine perfection. Of course if you and your parent(s) continue to press the matter, Mrs. Rosehearts will threaten to sue and when you're up against the Queendom of Roses's most renowned magical doctor with her prodigious son who could never do any wrong... Surely it's impossible from the start.

Riddle does feel bad. Somewhat. Deep down he knows it's wrong, but he's never had anything special before. Everything has always been chosen for him. He's never had friends. He's never had any hobbies. He's never had a life. And when he saw how radiantly you would shine while passing through campus with your group of friends, he just had to have you. You're like those forbidden strawberry tarts from his youth. He knows it's bad, but he can't help wanting to indulge even if it breaks rules. He's been so good. Surely he's allowed one treat! If it makes you feel any better, he was just as anxious as you were when he mixed that stuff into your drink.

And the twins... oh, the twins. >_< terrible. Their mother babies them incessantly. In canon, it's noted that she tends to call them frequently (nearly every day) because she worries. So she absolutely spoils them rotten. Those are her babies; of course she will! Papa Leech is just as adoring, I'm certain, but then I feel like his love is more of a "tough love" type. In any case, the twins won't accept the word no because they're so used to just getting things. Those sturgeon scales they proudly wear? Those were won through a fight. They want and then they take. It's simple.

So the fact that you'd tell either of them no... Unheard of. All of Floyd's smiley pretenses drop when you reject him. Jade can keep up his own placidity, if only to give you another chance so that you won't whine about how unfair it was in the aftermath: "Would you like to think more carefully about your decision?"

Whatever happens, you can't say or do anything. No one's going to speak ill against the Leech family. They can't. That's just how it is.