#he doesn't do anything he's just in the background being supportive

[mageofquandrix]

me: I wish there was an option for 'you dated Solas but it's been 10 years and you've moved on.' @postcardsfromheapside : put her with Pete Davidson

[starry-bi-sky]

Who is the more well-adjusted twin; Damian, or Danyal? Why, it's Damian, of course!

And I have an explanation for this! But first I wanna preface this that this is just me like, rambling about this thought I have and it's not an attack on the trope as a whole. I love the Danyal Al Ghul au which is why i'm so deeply passionate about it, because I think it has a lot of potential to be explored. It's no secret that I've mentioned before that I think Danny's psychological development tends to get overlooked and underutilized in DAG aus, and the impact that growing up in an assassin league often goes ignored. This is just me further expanding on that.

Now lets set the stage! This is specifically for Danny who is adopted by the Fentons later down in life. Lets go twin au. At 10 years old, Damian goes to the Wayne Family, Danny is adopted by the Fentons (regardless of their affiliation with the League). By 14 years old, who ends up the better adjusted, more socially aware, spiritually in-tune with themselves, sibling? Why, Damian is! Why is that?

Because he has the actual support he needs compared to Danny. And I'm not talking about good or bad parents Fentons, because either way my opinion doesn't change. Damian would end up the better off twin, because, frankly, his family knows his background. They know he grew up in the League, they know what the League's teachings are, and they know he's a born and raised assassin. Knowing this, they can then help tackle and dismantle the teachings and lessons he has been given and ingrained into by the League. They may be a dysfunctional family, but they're functional enough to at least actively help deprogram all of the League's teachings that have been ingrained in Damian throughout his childhood.

Can't say the same for Danny.

Lets say Fentons here don't know his background -- and even if they do, the results may just stay the same if they play their cards wrong, -- Danny's now just been thrown into the deep end of a pool and is essentially being told sink or swim. Regardless of how he got there -- undercover, faked death, etc -- he has no proper support. He knows the League is meant to be secret, he's not gonna speak on it for various reasons. Whether it be some still lingering loyalty, fear of harm, or whatever. Whatever the reason is, he does not have a proper support system in the Fentons, no matter how nice they are. They can only tackle the surface level stuff and whatever Danny allows them to see -- if Danny ever lets them see it at all. For what do assassins do when they don't want to be caught? They hide. Sometimes in plain sight.

"But Jazz--" Jazz is a child. She is 2 years older than Danyal and no better at giving him a proper support system than the two adult Fenton parents, even with parentification. We don't know when she got into psychology or how long she'd been studying it by the time Danny's 14. We just know she's really into it. Even then, Jazz is not a licensed or reliable therapist, or even an experienced or implied good therapist, and should not be used as one either. It's a disservice to her character to reduce her down to 'supporting female emotional crutch'. Besides, therapy only works on people who want to get better. Danny, who'd be hiding who he really is, has very little incentive to want to, or to even think something is wrong with his way of thinking, even with exposure to the outside world.

When people's beliefs are outright challenged, they tend to double down on them, and Jazz canonically has a habit of psychoanalyzing her family and declaring what she thinks is the problem -- regardless of whether or not she's right about it. Jazz would get into psychology, try and psychoanalyze Danny, and all it would do is cause him to clam up, shut into himself further, and throw up even more walls so that she can't figure out that he has been lying this whole time. It would do more harm than good, and would actively hinder any progress he'd make in trying to open up to them. Roads and good intentions and all that.

That being said, I think Danny's development and dismantling of the League's teachings would be slower than Damian's. Much slower. Because he would be the one having to pick apart everything and figure out what is right, what is wrong, what he wants to keep, and what he wants to toss. Everything he unlearns would be stuff he has to unlearn himself. If he even gets to that point at all -- depending on his experiences, he very well could not change at all, or change very little. The League acts as a purge for humanity, meant to reign in their hubris and retain balance, they just also happen to be assassins for hire. Danny's time spent in Amity Park could as well strengthen his belief in their teachings just as much as it could weaken it, especially if it goes as canon and he gets bullied.

Regardless, being tossed to a civilian family as someone who is very much not a civilian, without any support, would be actively detrimental to Danny's overall mental health and development. Especially to strangers like the Fentons. Damian was closed off and standoffish even with blood family, and it took him time to open up to them -- Danny, with the Fentons, would be even more so. He doesn't know them, he doesn't trust them, he has no rhyme or reason to open up to them, and since the Fentons don't actually know him, they can't help him the way he needs. Once "Danny Fenton" is made, he has even less reason to open up. So long as Danyal allows it, they will only ever know Danny, and they'll never know Danyal.

TL:DR the Fentons aren't the better family option just because they're civilians, and actually that makes them the worser option between the two because they can't give Danny the proper support he needs. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt #4

When they all convene at the cave, Alfred is silently wrapping Dick's knuckles. Damian hovers beside him. Tim and Barbara are hunched over the batcomputer, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he strides over.

"Report," Batman grunts. No one reacts.

"Report!"

"Hood pushed his panic button at 2:34 AM," Barbara says shortly, straightening.

The button had been a joke, mostly because Jason would never use it and everyone knew it.

"I patched into his comm at 2:35. This is what I heard initially." At her nod, Tim presses play. What occurs next is a garble. There is the sound of high winds, as if Hood is rushing through the air, even though the comms are designed to filter out any ambiance otherwise the Bats would never hear each other. Interspersed is a mixture of static punctuated by high, inhuman screeches of metal and something else unknown.

"This goes on," Barbara says after thirty long seconds, switching it off. "Red Hood failed to respond to any attempts at contact. I dispatched Nightwing to Hood's location at 2:36 AM. He was approximately two miles away." She pulls up a GPS map of their respective locations, their beacons blinking.

"At 2:41 AM, Red Hood's comm goes off, as does his GPS," Barbara says, swallowing softly as the red beacon indicating Jason disappears. "Nightwing arrives at 2:42 AM."

Dick doesn't say anything, head hanging low as he grips the metal table he sits on. Damian glances between the two of them, expression flat but fists clenched.

"Nightwing, report."

"..."

"Scene was empty, B," Tim speaks up. "No trace of Hood, no sign of a struggle. No cameras in the alley. We've been checking the ones nearby but so far there's no sign of anyone but Hood heading in that direction...and no one, Hood included, caught in the cams heading out, not within that time frame."

"So he's still in the area," Batman concludes. "The local buildings?"

"All the entrances have cameras, which showed no evidence of Hood nor any evidence of being tampered with," Barbara says. "Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin canvased within a half mile radius to check for any signs of disturbances in any of the windows or rooftops but found no evidence to support Hood being taken. A scan confirmed several serial offenders, but when interviewed and searched there was no sign of Hood. Several in the area reported an unusual quiet for Crime Alley."

Batman forces the next question out. "Did you check the dumpsters?"

"Yes," Nightwing grits out. "Empty."

Barbara clears her throat. "I have attempted to reconnect to Jason's GPS and comm as well as restart both remotely but there's no signal at all. The thing is, when there's a disruption like that it usually leaves some sort of sign" she pulls up the audio waves, pointing at the end where the spikes conform into a straight line that makes everyone deeply uncomfortable. Upon playing, the noise from before plays before going abruptly silent. "But there is no large spike, this is clean. It just ends. His GPS is much the same. It's not off, it's just gone."

"I know you don't like to hypothesize this early on, B, but we think this involves a meta," Tim says, rewinding the audio. "We've been running the audio from Jason's comm through different filters, playing with the levels and isolating what we can and, well, take a listen--"

The screeching drops to a sort of muffle and in the background, distantly, they can hear bits of Jason's voice.

"No, I'm not---"

"--don't need--"

"get AWAY from--"

a particularly desperate yell that makes Tim flinch, "I am NOT--!"

and almost a whimper that makes Batman's blood run cold, "please..."

And then, unfairly clear even through the faint garble, Jason says "I don't have a choice, do I."

And a minute later, quietly: "Ok."

The audio cuts off.

The defeat in Jason's last words is palpable, and fundamentally wrong. Jason has never sounded defeated a day in his life, and no one knows how to process Red Hood all but giving his hands over for the cuffs. Nightwing pushes himself off the table.

"I'm going back out there," he growls. No one tries to stop him as he stalks out the cave, not even Alfred.

"I will accompany Nightwing, make sure he does not punch any more walls." Damian says, nodding tightly.

"B?" Barbara asks.

"Keep working on it. See if you can identify what could be making those noises if Hood was standing still in an alley," Batman says, walking towards the zeta tube. "I'm going to make a few calls."

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

Taking care of Jude after his shoulder surgery and trying to comfort him from the idea of not playing for 2 - 3 months, he is out of mood but you know how to cheer him up (maybe a bj)😉

Remedy

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Jude is sulking because of his injury and you have the perfect remedy to cheer him up.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.1k

Warnings! NSFW! FLUFF, slight domestic fluff, pouty Jude, he's hurting🥺 SMUT (18+), oral sex (m receiving),

He's quiet.

Has been since you came back from the hospital. The silence that now wraps around him is different from the comfortable, familiar quiet you used to share. It's thick, heavy, and it feels like a dark cloud is following you around.

He doesn't talk much. You're not sure if he even wants to. Every time you try to bring up something about the surgery or football, he just shakes his head and change the subject. You're starting to get worried; this isn't like him. You've seen him upset before, but he was never like this.

The doctor had said he'd be fine after some rest. That it was normal to feel this way after the surgery, especially given the length of his recovery time. Two to three months out of the game was going to be tough for anyone, let alone someone as dedicated as Jude.

You knew that this was going to be hard for him, but you were ready to support him. If that meant taking care of him and doing all the things he hated, then you were happy to do it.

You knew it wasn't just about the surgery, or the recovery time. It was everything else. Being away from his teammates, away from the game, it was hard for him. He felt useless. Inactive.

The only thing that brought him a little joy was you. He always smiled when you were around, and you were always happy to see him. Even if he was still in pain, even if he wasn't talking much. You could see it in his eyes. He was happy to see you.

And right now, he needed you more than ever.

The room is dimly lit when you walk in, casting a soft, amber glow over the furniture. The faint hum of the air conditioning mingles with whatever show he's watching on the TV.

Jude lies in bed, his left shoulder heavily bandaged and propped up with pillows. His face is still pained, but he's not using the morphine anymore. He's trying to tough it out, and it makes your heart ache to see him like that.

You sit down on the edge of the bed near him, smoothing the blankets with your hand. The sheets are crinkled, the bed is a mess, and you think about making it for him, but you know he doesn't want you to fuss. So, instead, you just smooth the blankets down, running your fingertips lightly over the fabric.

His eyes flicker over to you, his mouth curving into a small smile. “Hey,” he says, his voice raspy from lack of use.

You smile back, leaning over him. “Hey,” you say, pressing your lips softly against his forehead. He closes his eyes at the touch, a sigh escaping from between his lips.

“Do you want anything?” you ask, running your palm down his arm. “Painkillers? A glass of water?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I'm fine.” He smiles weakly at you and you nod.

“Are you watching anything interesting?” you ask, gesturing to the TV. The show is some sports documentary, something you're sure he's seen a thousand times before. But it brings him comfort so you hold back from making any comments.

He shakes his head again, reaching up to run his fingers over your cheek. “Just background noise,” he says. “I missed you,” he murmurs, pulling you close.

You settle next to him, the warmth of his body a welcome contrast to the coolness of the room. His touch is gentle, almost fragile, as though he's afraid to press too hard. Afraid of being hurt. You wrap your arm around him carefully, mindful of the bandaged shoulder.

You smile, running your hand down his side. “I missed you too,” you say.

He hums, turning his head to press a soft peck to your lips. The first kiss he's given you all day. “I'm sorry,” he whispers as he pulls away, his hand sliding up under your shirt.

You look up at him, confused. “What for?”

He sighs, his brow furrowing slightly. “For being a dick.”

You frown, shaking your head. “You weren't a dick,” you say.

He rolls his eyes, giving you a look. “Don't lie to me.”

You shake your head again. “I'm not lying,” you say, cupping his jaw in your palm. “I know you're upset, and you're not handling it well, but you weren't a dick.” He looks away, his shoulders hunching forward slightly.

He lets out a deep breath, like he’s been holding it in for too long. “It’s just,” he starts, but the words seem to get stuck somewhere between his heart and his mouth. He lets out a heavy sigh, his good hand clenching into a fist. "I just… I hate feeling useless. Watching the team from the sidelines, not being able to play… it's killing me."

You nod, understanding more than he realizes. “I know,” you say softly. “And you're not useless. You're healing. But you’re going to get through this. You’re the strongest person I know.”

He looks at you, his eyes tired but appreciative. “I don’t feel strong,” he admits. “I'm scared” his eyes look distant. “I feel like I’m losing everything that made me who I am.”

The honesty in his voice hits you like a wave, and you take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not alone,” you tell him, your voice steady. “You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this together.”

He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. You can see the worry in his gaze, the fear and the uncertainty. It breaks your heart to see him like that.

You give him a soft smile and press your lips to his once more. This time, he meets you halfway, his mouth opening to let you in. He sighs into your mouth, his arm wrapping tight around your waist as he deepens the kiss.

His kisses are slow and tender, careful not to touch your lips too hard. You let him lead, letting him control the pace as you kiss.

You press closer to him, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. His hands roam freely down your back, squeezing your ass and pulling you into him.

He breaks away from you, his breath hot against your face. “I missed kissing you,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. You laugh, and he smiles. It’s the first real smile he’s given you today.

“I missed kissing you too,” you say.

The room is quiet once more, but this time it feels different. The air is lighter, the atmosphere changed. The cloud that had been following you around has vanished, and in its place, there’s a sense of relief. Of calm.

Jude’s fingers trace light patterns on your back, a touch that is both tender and tentative. His breath, warm and uneven, mingles with yours as you stay close. You can feel the faint tremor in his hold, a reminder of the pain he's so desperately trying to mask.

He’s trying to be strong, to fight through this.

You wish you could take all his pain away. You think for a moment, searching for a way to lift his spirits. An idea forms in your mind, and you smirk. You know just what he needs to cheer him up.

The doctor strictly forbade sex for the sake of Jude's quick recovery. But he never said anything about Oral sex. You internally cackle at your own deviousness.

You break away from him, leaning back to give him a sly smile. He doesn't see you, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him.

You smirk, letting your gaze wander down his body, letting your eyes linger on his crotch. You can just barely see the outline of his cock in his grey sweatpants. He's soft, not aroused, but that's okay. You can change that.

You lean up on your elbow, propping yourself up so you can get a better view. He shifts next to you, his eyes flicking to you. His mouth opens to say something, but he catches sight of the hungry look in your eyes and closes it again.

He smiles, raising his eyebrows. “You’re staring,” he says, his tone amused.

You nod, not ashamed. “I am.”

His smile grows, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

You smirk, letting your gaze travel further down his body. “About sucking your cock,” you say, watching as his expression changes from amused to surprised, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline.

He swallows hard, his eyes dropping back to your mouth. “I didn’t…” he starts, trailing off when he catches the look in your eyes. You smirk, biting your lip, and he trails off once more.

He looks up at you, his face still surprised, but there’s something else there now too. Desire.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Do you want me to?” you ask, watching as he shifts next to you, adjusting his position in the bed.

He licks his lips, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard, trying to act nonchalant. “I mean,” he starts, “if you want to.”

You grin, leaning over to press your lips to his once more. This time, you kiss him harder, more urgently. He groans into your mouth, his good arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. You're careful of his shoulder, mindful of the bandage.

He lets you lead, following where you take him. Your hands slide up under his shirt, your fingers tracing over his abs. He's lean, his muscles defined from hours spent working out. He shivers beneath your touch, his cock hardening in his pants.

You pull away from him, giving him a heated look as you straddle him. You lean up, running your tongue over his bottom lip before biting it gently. He groans, his hips jerking up into yours.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to watch the trajectory of your hand.

You chuckle, leaning back to run your palm over his cock. He lets out another low groan at the touch, his eyes closing as he throws his head back. “That feels so good,” he says.

You hum, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his pants. He shifts beneath you, his cock twitching in response. You lean over him, running your lips down his neck. “Do you want my mouth around your cock?” you ask.

He gasps at the question, his eyes flying open. “Jesus,” he says, his voice hoarse. He nods, his head bobbing up and down. “Fuck yeah, I do.”

You grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his neck. “Good,” you say.

His hands slide up under your shirt, running over your back. “Take your clothes off,” he says, his voice still hoarse. “I want to see you.” You smirk, leaning up to pull your shirt over your head.

He groans, running his hand up over your breast. “Fuck,” he says, squeezing your nipple between his fingers. “You’re beautiful.”

You smile, leaning back to take off your pants. “I’m going to take my clothes off,” you say, sliding the fabric down your thighs. “But then, you have to take your pants off.” He nods, his hand slipping down your stomach as you slide off the bed.

He shifts next to you, his eyes following your body as you move. You kick your pants off and stand up, your fingers hooking into his waistband as you lean over him. “Your turn,” you say, pulling his sweats down.

He lifts his hips for you, wincing slightly as you tug the fabric over his cock. The skin sensitive from the lack of use in the past few weeks. “Sorry,” you say, trying not to hurt him.

He shakes his head, smiling. “I’m fine,” he says.

You hum, leaning over to press your lips to his thigh. He shudders beneath you, his hand sliding up to rest on your head. “Please, baby! Don't tease.” he says, his voice a low whine.

His cock is hard, standing straight up from his body. The head is a deep, angry red, his veins visible under the skin. A drop of precum glistens on the tip, and you can't help but lean closer, your tongue darting out to lick it away.

He moans at the touch, his hips jerking upwards. You smirk, running your tongue around the head before licking down his shaft. He groans again, his head falling back onto the pillows.

You lean down further, licking the sensitive spot underneath the head. His hips jerk up again, his thighs clenching around you. He groans, his hand tightening in your hair. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You hum, licking him once more. You want him to feel good, to take his mind off the pain and the surgery. You want him to focus on the pleasure.

Your fingers trail down his shaft, curling around him to hold him in place. Your tongue moves faster, flicking against the tip of him before licking down to his balls. They’re heavy and swollen, hanging loose under him. He groans when you touch them, his hips twitching with each brush of your lips.

You tease him for a minute, licking and sucking at his balls before moving back to the head. You swirl your tongue around it, sucking the head into your mouth. He groans again, his hips rocking into your mouth.

You take him deeper, sucking harder as you bob your head on him. His hips jerking upwards as he groans. His hand tightens in your hair, holding your head in place. “Fuck sweetheart. Take me deeper, be a good girl,” he gasps, his cock twitching in your mouth.

You hum around him, sucking harder as you move your head faster. He groans again, his thighs shaking under you. “You're so good at this baby. Don’t stop, please,” he says.

You don't plan to, sucking him deeper into your mouth. Your lips slide down his shaft until they meet his trimmed pubes at his base. The dark hairs dust your nose, tickling it. Your mouth is stretched around him, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat.

You swallow, your throat closing around him. He gasps, good hand coming to cover his face, the pleasure too much for him. His shoulder starts to ache behind his jerky movements but he doesn't care. He wants more. “Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his hips rocking up into you.

You pull back, your mouth popping free of him. His cock is shiny, slick with your spit. “Gonna make you cum down my throat,” you say, looking up at him. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide as he looks down at you.

"Yeah?" he whispers, his voice a low growl. "Go ahead then. Take me all the way in that pretty little mouth. Gag on it." His words send shivers down your spine, your own body growing hot in response to his. You're soaked, your pussy dripping wet and aching to be filled.

You lean down, sucking him back into your mouth. His head falls back, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

You gag on him, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Tears fill your eyes as he fucks into you, using your mouth as he likes. He’s rough, his hips slamming upwards to meet you as you bob your head on him.

You gag again, drool soaking his cock as you choke on him dripping down his thighs. It's messy, wet. Just the way he likes it He groans, his cock twitching in your mouth. “Oh shit, baby, I’m close,” he says.

You suck him deeper, your tongue working overtime as he fucks into your mouth. He’s getting closer, his movements growing more erratic as he teases the edge. You can feel the pleasure building in him, the muscles in his thighs tensing under you.

He’s so close now, his cock twitching in your mouth as he gasps. “Baby,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m about to come.” He moans again, his hips jerking up to meet you.

You swallow around him, taking him deep. He cums down your throat, his cock jerking in your mouth. His hips slam upwards, filling your mouth with his seed. You swallow it down, taking it all as he comes.

When he's done, you pull back, gasping for breath. He relaxes back on the bed, his head falling back on the pillows. His chest is heaving, and a light sheen of sweat is covering his skin.

“Fuck,” he says, his voice breathless. “That was so good.” His cock is softening now, tip red, pulsing and glistening with spit.

He sighs again, his eyes opening to look down at you. “Thanks baby,” he says, his voice low and soft. “That was amazing.”

You smile, crawling up his body to rest your head on his chest. “Welcome,” you say, kissing his skin. “I’m sorry again, about your shoulder. It's going to suck not being able to play.”

He hums, his good arm coming to wrap around you. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head is a soothing. His breath, steady and deep, caresses your cheek, and you can feel the faint pulse of his heartbeat as you nestle in closer.

“I’ll be alright,” he says. “I just need some time.” His fingers run through your hair, his touch comforting. You lean into him, your body relaxing. You’re comfortable here, wrapped in his arms.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, looking up at him. His eyes are closed, his chest still rising and falling in a slow rhythm. “Jude?”

He opens his eyes, looking down at you. “Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I could eat.”

You smile, crawling off the bed. “I’ll go make some lunch,” you say, bending down to pick your pants up off the floor. His hand slides up the back of your thigh as you stand. You shiver, your body responding to the touch.

You straighten, pulling your pants on, still shirtless. “Don't even think about it,” you say, laughing watching his eyes glued to your chest. “Your shoulder needs to heal.”

He sighs, flopping back onto the bed. “Fine,” he says, grumbling.

You laugh again, pulling your shirt on. “Be good,” you say, walking over to kiss him. “I’ll bring your food up.”

He nods sulking, but smiles. “Love you,” he says, his voice soft and low.

You smile, leaning down to kiss him again. “Love you too,” you say. You walk out of the room, him watching your ass sway with each step. He’s smiling when you leave, the pain and frustration forgotten.

For now, at least, he’s happy. And that's all that matters.

-Bianca🌻

[yawnderu]

>Simon doesn't go to clubs, yet he'd do anything for bimbo!reader, even if it's out of his comfort zone. Adding a small dialogue of Simon being painfully brit when drunk from this post because I still giggle about it ejhfehjb

“C'mere, baby.” Your bare feet make contact with the floor as you walk to your boyfriend, who's waiting for you on the couch, a pair of stiletto heels next to him. It's a routine you know too well, putting your feet on his lap before you even realize it while he massages your ankles, offering you a small smile.

“Make sure you don't fall.” He teases and you push him away with your feet, only making him hold them in both hands and push back until your legs are folded, getting up just to steal a kiss from you.

“You rat!” Your giggle rings across the room as you try to push him away again, yet he's too strong to even move until he feels like it, sitting back down and starting to put your heels on, making sure the straps are safely secured before he helps you get up from the couch. He still can't wrap his head around the fact that you walk around in 6-inch stiletto heels with ease, but they were on your wishlist and whatever his princess wants, she gets.

Simon doesn't do clubs. It's loud, it's crowded, and he looks just about ready to take you back home until you strut to him, a big smile on your pretty face as you pass him a third glass of bourbon. He downs it after mouthing a small ''thank you'', feeling the warmth travel down his body.

“Come dance with me, Si!” You have to scream over the music, taking his free hand before he can even think about it. He reluctantly lets you pull him to the dance floor, despite feeling so out of place. He can't resist denying you, not when you look so happy and excited to be here with him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, your body rubbing against as you dance is almost intoxicating. He looks down at you, brown eyes fully taking in the sight��� your hair moving with your body as you dance and sing, a happy smile on your face before you take a sip of your pretty drink. You're the most breathtaking thing he's ever seen.

His hand goes down to your waist to support you in case you twist your ankle while wearing your pretty stilettos. He looks down at your lips for a second before his gaze locks on yours, unable to look away. Maybe it's the alcohol affecting his body, but he dares to lean down to capture your lips with his, pulling you closer and allowing your bodies to move together to the rhythm of the music. He pulls away, his hand going up to the middle of your back before he does something really stupid.

“I'm getting us more drinks!” You yell over the music, already walking away before he can stop you. He's used to drinking one or two glasses of bourbon, not four while out in a club, the flashy lights just making him dizzier. He pushes the thoughts to the back of his head, feeling your arms wrap around him from behind, taking the glass from you before you can spill it.

“Thank you.” Simon was never one for PDA, yet he's leaning down to kiss you again, his hand lingering on the small of your back for way longer than it should have. You turn around, sipping on your drink as you grind on him, too used to the clubbing scene to think about how Simon hasn't done anything like this before. Despite his stoic expression, he's actually having plenty of fun, his hand holding onto your waist to support you as you dance.

His attention is focused strictly on you. He loves how you're dancing for him and him alone. You're not dancing like this for other men or flirting with anyone— you're simply having fun with your boyfriend, and despite some of the men looking at you, you're only looking at him.

Simon lasted way longer than he thought, only making you turn around after an hour or so of dancing.

“Tired yet?” He lets your bodies sway to the generic pop song playing in the background, half-lidded eyes struggling to stay open. He drank more than he should— more than he has drank in public, and he's aware of it, yet he wants to bring you home before he's too drunk to be aware of his surroundings. You plant a small kiss on his nose now that he's laying down and he offers you a lazy grin, letting you guide him out of the club.

“Buss me a blem, love.” You raise an eyebrow at his words, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you help him walk, not wanting him to stumble around as you make your way back home. You have the route memorized, unlike him.

“A fag.” He clarifies, making you giggle nervously as you look up at him.

“Why do you want a gay m—” A stifled chuckle comes from above you, looking at the way Simon is trying to hold back his laughter. He's way too drunk for this shit.

“A cigarette, angel.” Realization hits your face as your glossy lips turn into an ''o'' shape, face lighting up when you can finally understand what he's saying.

“Don't have that either. The other one would have been easier to get...” You drag out, fumbling with the keys to your shared apartment before going inside, locking the door behind you. You go sit on the couch and Simon immediately beelines towards you, managing to sit down in front of you and attempt to undo the straps of your heels.

Was the buckle always this tiny? His fingers feel way too fucking big for the strap, yet he somehow manages, softly rubbing your feet to help ease the pain he knows you always feel after wearing them for a long time. His cheek is resting on your lap, your hand instinctively running through his short hair, massaging his scalp with your long acrylics.

“You okay, baby?” God, he could die right now. Your words are slurred, voice becoming even sweeter, your tone laced with concern. He can only manage to nod, trying his best not to fall asleep despite how comfortable your lap is. He can barely register how you get up, dragging him up by the arms— or well, trying. The bastard is way too heavy and tall for it.

“Up.” You say softly, not wanting your boyfriend to fall asleep on the couch. He grumbles before getting up, letting you make him lay down on the couch, making sure he's on his side. He didn't drink enough to throw up, but... just in case.

You disappear into the bathroom, coming up with a wet cloth and a basket full of skincare that you want to use on him. Your drunk brain is absolutely brilliant— wanting to take care of his skin while he's about to fall asleep. You steal a kiss from his lips before running the wet cloth over his face with care, wiping down all the sweat and grease on his skin.

His brown eyes focus on you as you start to massage a cool liquid all over his face, massaging it in circles with the pads of your fingers, careful not to poke him with your long nails.

“I love you.” It slips out of his lips before he can even think about it, looking away from you. You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down, anxiously waiting for something— anything. He flinches in surprise as your arms wrap around him tightly, small giggles of relief and happiness escaping your lips.

“I love you too, Si.”

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[shanastoryteller]

i'm going to move on from supernatural posting, i swear to god, but first i'm going to talk about ep 9x07 bad boys

the episode itself is fine and good (i mean it's another example of dean having a support network while sam can't have anyone and dean keeping secrets while when sam does it it's the worst betrayal ever but that's not what this is about and sometimes i think about what this show did two earnest, loving traumatized characters by turning them into the most tragic versions of themselves and - ok, this really isn't what this post is about)

but fandom interpretation of this episode actually drives me up a wall because it does a disservice to literally every character

one, john did not leave them without enough money for food. dean gambled it and lost it. there's nothing in canon to say that john was taking longer than expected, that they were running out of money, none of that. dean gambled food money and lost it and then tried to steal to make up for it. he was 16 when this happened and it was a bad decision but i don't think he should be at all vilified for this. he made a dumb mistake and then tried to fix it with another dumb mistake. john was right to be mad and sam was also right to tell him that he shouldn't beat himself up about it. just like with shtriga - yeah, dean was climbing the walls stuck in that hotel room. but you know who else was stuck in that hotel room? sam. and he didn't get a break to go play at the arcade. again, i'm not blaming dean here, he shouldn't have been stuck taking care of his brother that young and he was a kid and john leaving his his children behind while hunting a child eater, whether he was using them for bait or not, is crazy. but dean stealing food wasn't about john's neglect and all the sacrifices dean had to make for sam. it was about him trying to fix his fuck up

two, and this is the one that really gets me, dean didn't go back with john because he had to take care of sam

listen. listen to me. i am speaking from experience when i say this

parentified siblings are still, first and foremost, siblings. especially with only 4 years between them. the show shameless i think did an absolutely excellent job with this and is why i love the first few seasons of it so much. fiona is without a doubt parentified, she is raising those kids, but she's also clearly their sister not their mother

i know later seasons dean and fandom like to make it seem like dean literally raised sam and john was just a background figure but like. that's not realistic, and frankly doesn't even make sense

the reason dean leaves sonny and goes with john isn't because he feels like he has to keep him sam safe. it's isn't because he feels like he has to raise him. it's because he loves him

you are reducing dean to the most pathetic woe is me archetype with this interpretation and ridding him of all his rich loyalty and care and love to saddle him instead with comparatively flat duty. dean is more than sam's caretaker. he's his brother

there's also no reason for dean to feel this way. he just massively fucked up in taking care of sam - that's why he's with sonny in the first place. john has alternate people to take care of sam when he can't do it himself, as he has just proven, and while i don't think we should turn a couple teenage mistakes into making dean incapable, dean absolutely would - and did! he carries every fuck up regarding sam with him! so right now he's really, really low when it comes to his own estimation to take care of sam and leaving sonny because of that doesn't make any sense

but he looks at his brother and is reminded how much he missed him and loves him and realizes staying means he loses his brother. the good and the bad. so he goes, because he loves sam more than anything else

this is also why sam leaving for stanford cuts him so deep. that's why this moment is a parallel to that rather than being unrelated. stanford isn't about sam leaving dean even though he has a duty to care of him, because he doesn't. dean's 22 and at this point is always hunting with their father so there's no reason for sam to believe his presence is necessary for either john or dean's safety

no, dean's mad because he chose his love for his brother over a normal life and sam didn't

(sam didn't want to choose at all but this isn't about him)

anyway. dean fucks up sometimes and john sucks but not quite in the ways fandom thinks and dean loves his brother past reason or sense

[theatricalmage]

The brainrot took over and so here's a vat7k hadestown au!! Don't know if I'll develop it fully but I liked designing it at least!

More info under the cut:

- Varian, the Coronan royal alchemist, tasks himself with deciphering an incantation capable of bringing the world back into tune. Times are tough, and the royal family + Quirin are doing their best to cope with the meagre crop yields and desolate weather (Corona not really being the sunshine kingdom - hasn't been for a while). He wants to help and do good and I think he'd be a good Orpheus.

- Hugo, having moved about from place to place, still has his interest in alchemy and does what he can to get by. He plans on temporarily staying in Corona before looting, but he encounters a certain like-minded scientist at the Snuggly Duckling. I think him being selfish works especially well in Eurydice's role, having a more pessimistic view of the world. It also works with how he gets drawn to Donella's offer of working for her later on, leading him to his death.

- Ulla as Persephone! I was initially stuck on whether to have Rapunzel (and either Eugene/Cass) as her (and Hades) but I was drawn to the connection that Hugo has to Donella and the Donella/Ulla relationship in vat7k just works too well. In this case, Ulla won't be Varian's mother. She's still gonna be somewhat of an inspiration to him though, being the previous Coronan royal alchemist and for her intelligence. For half the year, she'll return to Corona with food, drinks, and alchemical compounds/inventions, bringing Spring and Summer to the world, if only for a bit.

- Donella would be such an interesting Hades, losing sight of her love for Ulla, heart filled with fear and hurt, leading to bitterness and cruelty. Ingvarr being Hadestown and how by being the esteemed Ingvarrian engineer, she'd be in charge of major technological advances across the kingdoms and so would wield a significant amount of power (like how Hades is literally the ruler of the underworld). Ingvarr essentially being a near death sentence for its workers while also displaying its technological prowess, all still shrouded in mystery and corruption - a place so otherworldly compared to the rest of the kingdoms.

I didn't want to modify the outfits too much nor the personalities,, if anything I imagine the general plot beats being the same as the original musical/story but with slight differences that'd you get inherently as a result of these characters. I wouldn't want it to be the case where it's just the show but the names are changed. I'd want this to still make reasonable sense in this AU, with the actions being understandable for this particular cast of characters.

For Hermes, I ended up picking Xavier, as he's most knowledgeable of old legends and stories, which would work in reference to the Hades and Persephone myth (and so Donella and Ulla)! He'd act as a mentor figure for V, someone who can guide him in uncovering the forgotten incantation. Quirin would still be the good supportive dad he is (even if he doesn't fully understand his son's project).

Last but not least, the fates!! often lurking in the background, I'm still a bit stuck on who it could be? I'm tempted to have it be Raps, Cass, and Nuru as they've had celestial connections at some point (and ya know how stars can represent fate), but I also love the freckled siblings dynamic so much. Also Team Radical... Maybe Raps and Cass can be their normal selves but their Sundrop/Moonstone counterparts are the manifested physical forms of the fates? They wouldn't be visible to the characters though, just voices in the wind.

Anyways yeah!! Those are my thoughts. Do let me know if you've got any cool ideas or questions. I'm really combining my interests at full force and there's nothing anyone, not even myself, can do about it quite frankly. 😮‍💨

[moonstruckme]

not sure if you’re taking requests buttttt poly!marauders but they’re kinda overprotective bfs and she sneaks out to go to a party with marlene or her girlfriends but they find out and show up at the party 💞

Hi don't worry, I am! I think it should show on the requests page linked in my pinned post, but please let me know if it doesn't, I'm still figuring tumblr out and often mess up! I hope this is alright honey, I tried to go for the angst but honestly the more I write the more suspicious I become of my inability to write our boys being anything other than soft with reader! I'll try to work on it but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this <33

cw: mention of concussion symptoms, including nausea, nothing intense or even very descriptive though

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

You’re aware that the internet had said you were supposed to avoid bright lights, loud sounds, and movement when Remus had looked it up after an unfortunate fall that morning. Just like you’re aware that when your boyfriends left you at your apartment a few hours ago, they’d been trusting you to follow those instructions. But you’re also aware that the internet had led you all to believe your concussion was mild, and that Marlene only has one birthday a year. Damned if you were going to miss it. 

So yeah, you feel a bit queasy as your eyes struggle to track the movement and voices around you, but that’s nothing compared to the contentment of being with your friends. Lily has assigned herself the role of your caretaker, checking that you’re alright every few minutes and shushing anyone who raises their voice too loud around you, and Marlene has attached herself to your side, telling you how much she appreciates you in between beer-scented hiccups. 

“And you’re so nice to come tonight,” she’s saying now, brushing her fingers clumsily but sweetly through your hair. “I can’t tell you how much—uh oh.” 

You have a premonition of ill fate even before the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you follow Marelene’s unfocused gaze to the curly-haired boy coming towards you.

“Happy birthday, Marls,” he says, his smile only appearing slightly strained, before he turns to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”

“Jamie,” you say quietly, and Lily and Marlene leave the couch to give you as much privacy as a party allows. “What are you doing here?”

“Everyone here’s been posting, and you’re in the background of half the pictures.” His smile slips as he crouches in front of you, disappointment in his eyes. “You know you’re supposed to be resting,” he says softly. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

You’re glad that he’s here instead of Remus or Sirius, who surely wouldn’t be as careful about not embarrassing you. James is less stern than the others, and though you feel a bit guilty for doing so, you press that to your advantage. 

“I haven’t drank anything but water,” you say. “That’s gotta count for something, right? And look.” You brush your hair behind your ear, showing him the earplugs you’d put in before arriving. “I’m being careful, see? I’m alright, Jamie, and it’s Marlene’s birthday. Let’s just stay, both of us, okay?”

James looks nearly apologetic. “Remus and Sirius are waiting in the car.” 

You groan, but allow James to pull you to your feet, waving goodbye to your friends with a pout. He supports more of your weight than you really need him to as he walks you outside, where Remus sits in the drivers’ seat of the idling car. Dread settles, along with dull resignation, in your stomach. 

Sirius is in the backseat and you hope James will get in first, but he lifts you in before him, placing you between two of your three upset boyfriends. You can’t look at any of them, allowing James to buckle your seatbelt for you as an oppressive silence, worse than the bass that had brutalized your head inside Marlene’s, stretches out between you. 

True to form, Sirius is the first to breach it. 

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You sigh. “I’m sorry.” 

“You have a concussion! All you had to do was stay home and rest. That website said that lights and loud music—say, the sort of things you’d find at a party—would only make things worse.” 

Normally, you’d argue with him. No matter how hopeless it seems, no matter how obvious it is that Sirius is going to win, you can always meet him head-on and at least make your point. But tonight, with your head throbbing and something about your very being feeling fundamentally wrong, you can’t muster up the energy. 

“I know,” you say. 

Sirius goes silent at the acquiescence in your voice, and he looks at Remus in the rear-view mirror, unsure of how to proceed. James puts a hand on your knee, a tiny gesture of comfort even though he’s upset with you too. The motivation that had driven you to Marlene’s and through the party is wearing off, and you feel suddenly, embarrassingly teary. 

“Do you feel sick?” Remus speaks for the first time, and though his voice is calm, the absence of his usual terms of endearment leave no doubt that you’re still in trouble. 

You clear your throat of the tears that are trying to clog it. “A little.” 

“We’re bringing you to our place to rest.” It’s not a question. “We can go get some things from your place tomorrow, but tonight you can just wear our stuff. Think you can eat something before bed?” 

It’s worse that he’s being kind to you. You’d been prepared for a lecture, but being taken care of is worse. It brings the vulnerability you’ve felt since the frightening pain and dizziness of that morning to the surface, and you keep your face turned towards your lap as your eyes become wet. “Yeah, I think so,” you say, and your voice cracks slightly when you add, “I’m sorry.” 

Sirius makes a sympathetic, pained sound from beside you, and James abandons all pretense of anger, tucking your head under his chin. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” Remus says, a bit more gently. “For now, just try to relax.” 

[itsvelyria]

"how the f1 boys are when you work from home"

Charles Leclerc

he'll be pouting by your door the minute you start your work day. the reason for him being particularly clingy is because he doesn't get a lot of time with you already, due to his busy schedule. but now you're right in front of him yet he can't bother you? will puppy-dog-eye his way into keeping your door open so he can peek in occasionally to catch a glimpse of you at least. sometimes he says he's going out to run some errands because he's, after all, an independent adult who can spend a day by himself, but always comes back within an hour because he missed you too much to leave you alone.

Carlos Sainz

the sweetest, most considerate guy on Earth; he makes sure you have your breakfast before your work day, keeps his volume down when you're on a call and always has lunch ready when noon comes around. he will come to drag you out to have lunch with him at the kitchen counter even if you tell him you're too busy to take a break. when you are well-fed and back behind the table, he always pays the coffee shop around the corner a visit to bring you your favourite drink. both because he knows you're fighting a food coma and also to make you take a break.

Danny Ricciardo

your #1 supporter. when he learned you'll start having work from home days, he helped decorate your home office. he spent days reading up on ergonomic chairs and standing desks, even researching plants to brighten up the space. he is huge on work-life balance and always shows up at your door at 5 on the dot to drag you away from your laptop, to the gym or to a new restaurant you had mentioned in passing.

George Russell

by nature a very chill and relaxed guy, he leaves you alone for the most part to do his own thing. he's very extroverted though, so when he appears in the background of your video calls, he'll always says hi to to your colleagues or boss. one time you were on a call with a close colleague and he was putting away some books at the bookshelf behind you, chatted her up about her dog and ended up exchanging social medias, becoming your unexpected networking catalyst. it always brightens up your day because it shows how much he cares for the people in your life.

Lando Norris

he would constantly pop in to see you "needed anything" but honestly he just misses you and wants your attention, even if you're under the same roof. when you banned him from your office, he started sending TikToks and memes from the next room over, threatening to derail your focus but always making you giggle. the kind of partner who would hide Post-Its with funny scribbles and doodles among your work documents and wait for you to find them. when you ask him if he wants to get lunch together, the glee on his face is blinding and he shoots up like a little puppy.

Lewis Hamilton

probably the most mature partner on the grid; he likes the intimacy of quietly working together in a shared space. there's just something about soft classical music in the background while you two are working on your respective projects. the highlight of your day is when you take short breaks together in the kitchen over mugs of coffee — telling him of whatever office gossip you had come across while he rambles on about his upcoming campaign.

Max Verstappen

he is very understanding of how important your career and job is to you. while you work, he'll probably be on his simulator in the living room, making sure he keeps the doors closed so he doesn't disturb you. after a long day of you in your office and him of racing, you two like to have a quiet dinner on the couch with a movie playing. he lets you lie on his lap afterwards, stroking your hair gently as you rant about your workday.

[landoscaring]

my thoughts on monza '24

let me preface this post with a big fucking heave of a sigh

[siiiiiigh]

i gotta admit that i was nervous for this one. the tension has been building up, the pace has gotten stronger, and the media have had a field day commenting on mclaren's strategy. it's been stressful.

on the one hand i gotta say as a mclaren purist that yeah, this blows, but also the fact that this is what we're worrying over? two wdc-potential drivers in our team??? the pace being too good??? like. yeah. give me this over the DNFs and the shit car.

but then.

ugh.

i support lando and oscar equally. always. until the day their contract's up. that being said:

McLaren need to make up their minds

Oscar didn't do anything wrong today

Lando wasn't going to win the race even if he'd kept P1 from the beginning because the tye strat was off anyway

the media NEED TO STOP THE NARRATIVE AROUND OSCAR HELPING LANDO SCORE A WDC BECAUSE THAT'S NOT WHAT LANDO WANTS. do you think he wants to win a wdc because his teammate, who he knows is competitive enough, rolled over and let him through? fuck no, that's not the lando we know

i completely understand the frustration some fans have, but it's misdirected. IF mclaren stepped the fuck up and gave clear orders to both their drivers, this wouldn't be such a shit show

i don't fully agree that team orders are the way to go, but also, i would appreciate if they just made up their minds about it already? time's running out

some fans' takes about this whole thing are just...bad

insert taylor swift quote about "you wouldn't have survived in the asylum they raised me" or whatever because hah, this is nothing, you guys. a few people would've fainted with the way things happened with lewis and nico, mark and seb, prost and senna... and countless more. this sport is RUTHLESS. and CUTTHROAT. it's not tiktok edits with taylor swift songs in the background. oscar did what he knew he could do under the orders given to them both (papaya rules)

in a way i think this needed to happen -and has been building up for a while- for a few reasons, a) for mclaren to wake the fuck up and make up their minds already, b) for fans to realize that oscar is not lando's lapdog and he fully intends to fight for race wins, and c) that just because we like to imagine they're bffs or boyfriends in our fan spaces it doesn't mean they got to be okay with each other all the time. let them be upset. let them be angry. it is what it is.

it was a great race. probably one of the best we've seen all season. as a retired ferrari fan (but really, everyone is a ferrari fan in this sport) i thoroughly enjoyed watching charles win today. he deserved it on grit alone. and their strategy worked, which is something that mclaren needs to learn from.

i will continue to support these two idiots in their highs and lows. neither of them are perfect, and there's so much room for improvement. they're young. allow them some grace when you comment about how this or that should've happened. lando is wdc material, yes, but he wants and needs to earn it.

that's all, folks

[astraaa3]

Hello ! You can request Valentino X Reader. where Valentino adores the reader's breasts.

Thanks in advance and good luck.

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this one, I'll admit. My Hazbin Hotel brainrot is just getting worse. *giggles in: I am going to hell for my degeneracy*. ANYWAY, here is the request. Don't forget to keep them coming~

I kept the reader gn since I believe all chests need to be appreciated, from girl tiddies, to man tiddies, to enby tiddies, etc. In whatever size they come in.

Feedback is much appreciated and welcomed. <33

=========♡=========

Valentino x Gn!Reader Headcanons (+small prompt)

Given Valentino's line of work the sight of tits, ass, and/or any other explicit body part doesn't particularly excite him.

That said, he didn't particularly find anything interesting about your chest at first either

It was a few months into your relationship when he realized how much he adored your chest

One night, after the two of you were done with your 'nightly activities' he dropped his head onto your chest while he was still inside of you with your legs wrapped around his waist

You waited for him to move, but to your surprise he fell asleep his head on your chest

Since that day he took every opportunity he could grab your chest or lay his head on it

And well, Valentino being Valentino, the opportunity was whenever he saw you.

It didn't matter if you were working or if you were chatting with someone

You didn't even dare to complain since he threatened to kill the last person who 'kept' him from fondling your chest

It was even more embarrassing when this happened in front of the other Vees

Velvette found this quirk of your relationship with Valentino to be particularly annoying and unsightly; it also increased the number of time she called Valentino a piss baby

All in all, while your relationship did have ups and (a lot of) downs due to Valentino's possessive and short temper, the one thing that remained constant was the cuddling at the end of a long day, his head pressed against your chest as you hugged him (seeing him so vulnerable and open almost made you forget how afraid you were of him when he got furious at something random that you did)

=========♡=========

Small prompt:

You were laying on the couch, your head supported by the armrest and your legs strewn out in whatever weird position you found comfortable at that moment. You were scrolling to Voxstragram while some random show was playing on the TV, serving as white noise.

Your moment of peace didn't last long however as you could hear from the hallway that Valentino was coming, aaand he was yelling on the phone. You sighed rolling your eyes at your significant other's short temper. Your shoulders jump up startled as Valentino slams the door open throwing his phone into the wall before quickly walking over to you and doing the same thing with your phone. You look at him incredulous and slightly indignant, as he huffs sitting down on the couch. He lights a cigarette rambling about whatever stupid shit one of his actors did as he grabs you by the arm pulling you into his lap. He buries his head into your chest out of frustration, his shoulder relaxing soon after, as he makes content clicking noises (which you found completely adorable; to be fair, you found everything about his moth anatomy and habits to be adorable, even if you would never tell him that out of fear of him throwing a tantrum over being called that out of all things).

You sighed laying your head on top of Valentino's closing your eyes as you half listen to the TV still playing in the background. "My knees are gonna be sore from staying like... Just another day with Valentino." you think smiling softly as you fall asleep in the less than comfortable position.

[cheriladycl01]

Surrounded by Ice - Kimi Raikkonen x FigureSkater! Reader

Plot: The Iceman just surrounds himself with Ice in every aspect of his life

A/N: Just a short little Kimi drabble, more exciting stuff coming soon, just been swamped with Uni!

Credit to summerblueringo for the GIF

"How does it feel to bring home a gold medal for your country, again?" the interviewer asks and a big grin appears on your face.

"I mean, i love the sport and I've worked hard to get where I am. I think this year there were many other contestants who also deserved gold and everyone who took part today were amazing!" you keep smiling, it had been a really amazing set for you today. You'd even broke some records while here.

"And now what is your plan?" they ask holding the mic closer to you.

"Well my husband is waiting for me, just over there. So i think he wants to give me his congratulations" you say pointing out our stoic looking husband who was waiting in the background, keeping to himself watching the world go past.

"Ah yes, Kimi Raikkonen! The Ice Man, who arguably married Queen of the Ice" he jokes making you laugh a little. You had heard similar jokes many times since you'd married Kimi.

"Yes, obviously being here in South Korea for the Winter Olympics has been amazing, and I'll be sure to train hard for 2022 but now I'm needed to go support my lovely lovely husband in his fast cars" you exclaim, knowing that the Australian Grand Prix was round the corner.

"Ah yes, it's looking like a good season for Ferrari! And we can tell from your outfit today they already have your support"

"My support is for whatever team my husband is in, so Ferrari have had my support since Kimi has raced with them!"

You left the interview thanking your team before finding Kimi waiting for you quietly.

"Home?" you ask and he nods silently grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the arena.

"You were fantastic today!" he smiles, holding you and pulling you into a kiss.

"Yeah? You liked the new twist i did?" you ask, your routine today being one of the hardest you'd ever done. You mascara had infact started to run, from the sweat building on your forehead throughout the day.

"I like everything you do"

You guys both went back to the hotel, packing up all of your gear that had been here for the past month you'd stayed in Korea for. Once you were sure you hadn't left anything behind you made your way to the airport.

Kimi now only had a month until Australia, his personal trainer had come with you to Korea to help him train while he was out there supporting you.

Now, you'd train while you were travelling with Kimi. Finding ice while on the road with him was always difficult, but finding places to just work out and keep your fitness up was never hard as you'd train alongside Kimi. It was one of the ways to spend extra time with him during the season when he was most busy.

In the free month before Australia you started your research on where you could go in Melbourne to skate, you found somewhere that Kimi was happy with you going too as it wasn't too far from the hotel you'd be staying in or the race track for if anything went wrong.

"Will you watch me on the Sunday though?" he'd asked you as you were both lying in bed the night before you were due to fly to Australia.

"When have I ever not?" you ask, turning over in bed to look at him.

"Hmmm, I can for sure think of one time..." he smirks looking over you.

"If your talking about China, almost 10 years ago that doesn't even count!" you laugh, poking his cheek a little.

Your husband never failed to amaze you, his striking blue eyes and his soft blonde hair was what initially drew you in. But it was your first interaction with him that made you fall for him fully.

It was the Autumn of 2008 and you were 22 and you had just won your second Gold Medal in China, you'd stayed there for the months after the games as they left the Beijing Olympic Park open and it seemed like a good place to stay and to train.

You managed to get tickets to other sporting events in the months you stayed there such as Snow Boarding, Golf but the best one was when the Chinese Grand Prix came about.

You were active on the socials you had back then, and so it wasn't hard for Sauber BMW to reach out to you and give you a guest pass.

You'd been walking round the paddock, just investigating when you'd bumped right into the Finnish Ferrari driver. He had just stared at you while holding a tight grip on your wrist so you didn't fall over.

You remember him asking if you were okay, and some other questions that you hadn't heard fully as your brain had gone foggy at the sound of his soft, yet deep voice.

It was a little embarrassing, when he'd tried to speak Finnish to you, and then decided on English, but with no reply he was left stumped and awkwardly standing there.

He'd soon left after that but you were on each other's minds for the whole day. You tried to keep up conversations with the BMW drivers Robert and Nick but your mind kept drifting the the Finnish Driver for Ferrari.

He found you after the race, and just stared at you for a while before you made the first move speaking to him. And the rest was history.

You spent the next 5 years together as partners, it was convenient for someone like Kimi who raced all through the year apart from summer and winter to end up with someone in a sport who only competed for a month in the summer and winter. It meant that they also still got a break with each other.

After 5 years, Kimi let the big question unload and now you'd been married for 5 years.

"Of course, my love! You know that!" you smile, pulling him closer to you. You tuck yourself into his surprisingly warm embrace, considering his nickname was 'Iceman' he was the warmest person you'd ever had the privilege of meeting.

"I was thinking ..." he breathes, his voice a little higher and whiny than normal.

"Mmmmm, you don't do that often?" you tease, a hand running up and down his back.

"Well, I'm the ice man, your the Ice Queen... i was thinking maybe it's time we have an Ice Baby?" he whispers in the softest most unsure tone you'd ever heard.

"You think now's a good time?" you ask, and thinking about it... it was. You yourself had two years before the next Olympics in 2020, and Kimi was at a point in his career where he could leave and live comfortably if he needed and wanted to.

"I haven't told you this, but they want the Sauber kid in my spot. I'll be going to Alpha Romeo next year. I feel like I've done what i can and I've had my time in the sport... and we aren't getting any younger. Especially me..." he jokes, being 44 now.

"Mmmmmm I think now is the perfect time" you smile.

Flash forward to the Austin Grand Prix and you were 6 months pregnant. You'd already announced it and so many people were excited for you and Kimi, through the season he had loads of interviews. All against his will of course but people saw a different side to him when he talked about you and the soon to be baby.

It was a great race for Kimi in Austin, he pulled through with his first win of the season, valuable points that helped contribute towards his position in the drivers standings.

"So Kimi, first win of the season today! How are you feeling?" an interviewer asks, he was sat in a panel with some of the other drivers in a debrief.

"It was good to get a win, this season has been tough. We've had an interesting year with veteran drivers like myself, Seb, Fernando and Lewis being pushed by newer or younger drivers who are proving to be good competition like Charles, Max and Pierre" he answers.

"There have been rumors that you wont be here with us next season?" he pushes and Kimi roles his eyes.

"If I'm not it's not an issue... racing is my hobby that i get paid to do. I'll leave when i want to" he admits without letting anything slip that Ferrari wouldn't want to come public knowledge.

"Lets move on to you Lewis..."

And for the rest of the interview all he could think of was coming back to you.

Once your daughter was born in January before the start of the 2019 season and Kimi moving to Alfa Romeo everyone on the grid wanted to meet her. So of course, you were obligated to come to Australia for pre-season testing. Your 3 month old being so intrigued at the busy rush of everything around her.

She was a fan and driver fav around. Everyone had a picture with her and introduced themselves as her uncle and that they would look after her. People like Lewis, Seb and Charles all came with little gifts for her, Seb even had someone make her a custom team Ferrari top so she could fit in with her father and her Uncle Sebastian.

"Today was amazing!" you sighed as you leaned into your husband who currently held your daughter against his bare chest.

"Mmmm, I think you should both take a break though, at least until Summer break and join me afterwards" he smiles, knowing that the heavy time change from Monaco to Australia wasn't good for your or the baby.

"Well, I may as well come to Bahrain with you... its on the way back. But I will leave after that" you smile, pulling him in for a kiss.

"I love you, thank you for giving me this life" he smiles looking between you and his daughter.

"I wouldn't have it any of way" you grin.

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[sankta-wraith]

One thing I think is really important when it comes to understanding Daemon and Rhaenyra's relashionship is the fact that Daemon doesn't show his love through words, he does it through actions. Quite frankly I'm not sure he knows how to verbally express love. He can't support her emotionally, but he can still do other things for her.I think this is shown really well in season 1 episode 10 and season 2 episode 1.

When Rhaenyra learns of her father's death and the Green's usurpation of her throne, she goes into premature labor almost imediatly, so there is no time for her to start planning her bid for the Iron Throne. Daemon takes the liberty of starting to plan the beginings of the war, and in doing so leaves Rhaenyra to endure childbirth alone. There is a very memorable scene in which Daemon schemes with Rhaenyra's small council at the Painted Table, whilst Rhaenyra screams in the background, even calling out for him at one point. Daemon makes no move to go to her and simply continues to plan a war, at least until Jace informs him that Rhaenyra doesn't want anything done until she is able to join them. Even then he does not join her. He goes to threaten two members of the Kingsguard with Caraxes, so as to ascertain that they will remain loyal to Rhaenyra. Now, when I first watched this scene, I, and probably everyone else, assumed that Daemon was taking the opportunity provided by Rhaenyra's premature labor to seize control and have the war start on his terms. Rhaenyra also seems to believe this, as when Jace inquires about Daemon's wherabouts she says "Off planning his war." However, upon rewatching that episode, I think that think that Daemon refusing to attend Rhaenyra in her labors and instead planning a war for her, is actually his way of trying to help her. Daemon is thinking that, while he does not know how to comfort her, and hold her hand, and help her through childbirth, he does know a thing or two about war. In his mind, he's essentially saying something along the lines of "I cannot help you there, so let me remain here where I am of use to you," because, as I said above, Daemon expresses love through his actions, not his words. I think at least part of him wants to be there for Rhaenyra, but he just doesn't know what he can say or do that would help her, so he focuses on what he can do: getting the council together and starting to plan, so that when Rhaenyra comes back he can show her that he's done something of use.

Then, when the child is stillborn, Rhaenyra once again needs comfort and reassurance that Daemon just does not know how to give. There is a scene of them, standing in front of their daughter’s funeral pyre, and you can see him give her this very concerned look, and kind of glance over like he wants to say something, but he doesn't, because he just does not know what he's supposed to say. Then Ser Erryk (or maybe Arryk, I can never remember,) arrives with the crown, and Daemon is relieved because he might not be able to offer her kind words, but he can be the one to put that crown on her head. A gesture that is even more meaningful if you consider how much he wants that crown. By being the one to physically place the crown on her head, he is telling her "I'm sorry that I can't be there for you, but I love you and I will support you." Then they go back to the war council, and Rhaenyra is asking about their numbers, and Daemon is the first one to speak. He starts talking almost before Rhaenyra finishes asking, he seems almost eager (even though their numbers are nothing to be eager about,) because she's finally asking him for something he can give. This is his chance to show her that, even if he cannot be there for her emotionally, he can still do this. He can organize this war and help her win, and do damn good job of it. This is really how Daemon says "I love you."

Then fast forward to 2x01, and Luke is dead, and Rhaenyra once again needs a level of emotional support he's simply not equipped to give, only this time, there is nothing else he can do to help her. He tries to convince Rhaenys to fly to Kings Landing, but she refuses, so he can do nothing except sit around, helplessly, while Rhaenyra mourns. Then she comes back, and he tries to be supportive, by asking if she "found what she needed," but she doesn't answer him. Instead, she declares that she "wants Aemond Targaryen." In Daemon's mind, she has essentially told him that to comfort her, he must have Aemond killed. So he uses his contacts in the City Watch to arrange it. I think one of the reasons he gave Blood and Cheese such vague instructions as to what to do if they can't find Aemond, is because he needs something for Rhaenyra. He can't be helpless any more. (Note: I am in no way condoning Blood and Cheese, or saying that Daemon did the right thing. I am simply trying to understand him and his choices better. Please dont come after me.) But then it fails. Catastrophically. And not only has Daemon failed to help Rhaenyra, he has made things much worse.

So he goes to Harrenhal to get the support of the river lords. But, so far, he has achieved next to nothing. (Obviously he's been busy with the hauntings and home renovations.) But he will not admit to Rhaenyra that he's failing miserably, so he ignores her ravens and sends none of his own. (I don't believe any of the bullshit Ryan Condal is trying to spin about him betraying her.) Because he will not go back to Dragonstone empty handed. Because to Daemon, that would be like telling Rhaenyra he doesn't love her anymore.

[sharksnshakes]

Night Out (III) - Tim Drake

After discovering Tim is the Red Robin, his behavior starts to make a lot more sense. One confession leads to another...

AN; and we are done!! i hope u all enjoy the final installment of the tim drake miniseries. never done anything like this before and very grateful for the support <33 literally wouldn't have written it otherwise

Wordcount; 1k

TW; cursing, choking, minor injuries, tim being a simp

You don't have to puzzle over Tim's strange behavior for too long. Just days after the incident in the alleyway, you're watching a news report on the Red Robin, who was spotted fighting Dr. Freeze with Nightwing's help somewhere in the Diamond District.

The news anchors play a clip of Robin protecting civilians while Nightwing kicks ass in the background, and when Robin pushes an elderly man out of the way of Dr. Freeze's ray gun, you get deja vu; The arm flung in front of the civilian, the reaching for something in his utility belt--the vigilante's motions match Tim's exactly, right down to the damn batarang.

And then Dr. Freeze kicks Tim in the gut, and you can't keep watching.

You're not sure if you're the world's best detective, if Tim's horrible at hiding things, or if it was just plain luck, but ever since you put two and two together things have been making a lot more sense. Namely, why he constantly backs out of plans at the last minute and is busiest at 3am. His vigilante status might also have something to do with the ungodly levels of caffeine he consumes, but you're pretty sure he'd be drinking all that coffee regardless of whether he was Red Robin or not.

Unfortunately, you figured this out days before finals week, and you know that if you don't confront him you'll be distracted the whole time you're taking exams...

...Which is what leads you to where you are now. You're sitting in the passenger seat of Tim's fancy car (it's glossy black with custom upholstery to match--really, the whole 'Batman and Robin' thing should've been way more obvious) and chowing down on Big Belly Burger in a parking garage.

"So," you start, taking a sip of your drink to steel yourself, "I have something to tell you."

He swallows a gulp of food, brow furrowing. "Which is?"

"Y'might wanna put the food down for a second."

Tim huffs out a laugh. "No way it's anything that serious."

"Uh, I know you're Robin?"

He chokes.

Thirty seconds and several gulps of water later, Tim is staring at you with a dumbfounded expression that would be comical if the stakes of the situation weren't so high. Are the stakes high? You're not really sure. While you don't peg Batman as the type to have his vigilantes assassinate randos for figuring out their secret identities, he's a grown man running around dressed up like a bat. Who knows what goes on in his head?

Well. Tim might.

Regardless, Tim doesn't even attempt to dispute you. After sitting in silence for an additional two minutes, he just sort of... shrugs?

"Yeah. You're right."

You blink at him. You're not sure what you expected, exactly, but him owning up to it with zero hesitation was definitely not it. "You're just gonna admit it?"

"I mean-" he shrugs again. "What am I supposed to do? Dispute you? I'm sure you've got evidence."

You say nothing.

"You had no evidence?"

"I had a hunch," you protest, "And you just confirmed it!"

He groans, dropping his head into his hands. "You only had a hunch? No photos? No eyewitnesses?"

"It's almost finals week! What was I supposed to do, drop everything and research you instead of my term paper?"

"No, obviously not. Sorry. I'm just..."

"Shocked? Surprised? Caught off guard?"

"Well, you saw the news," he says dryly. Reaching for the hem of his shirt (also black, it was so obvious), he pulls it up a few inches to reveal a dark bruise splashed across his abdomen.

His incredibly toned abdomen--

You wince. "Ouch."

"Yeah, no kidding." At that moment, Tim's cheeks flush pink, and he quickly pulls his shirt back down. "Uh, sorry. Didn't mean to... you know."

"Nah, it's fine," you say, opting to stare out the window so Tim doesn't catch you blushing, "It's not a bad view, if that makes you feel any better."

Wait, what the fuck did you just say?

Your eyes go wide, and you immediately drop your gaze to your lap. There's a time and place for flirting with your best friend who's also Red Robin, and that time and place is not right after he's shown you his injuries and admitted to having a secret identity.

Except maybe it is, because when you risk a glance at Tim, his lower lip is pulled between his teeth and his eyes look just a touch hazy.

"You think I look good?" He murmurs, and you forget everything that's ever happened, ever.

"Yeah," you admit, looking around his face rather than at it, "And I was gonna tell you about that the other night. But, um, then we got interrupted."

Tim sucks in a small breath.

"So judging by your reaction, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you feel the same way...?"

"No," he deadpans, "I'm just staring at you like you hung the moon because I'm bored."

You blink at him. "You better be fucking joking--"

Tim reaches across the console, cups your jaw in his hand, and pulls your lips onto his.

You gasp. He swallows up the noise, moving slowly, deliberately, like he's been thinking about this moment for a long time; his fingers tremble but he guides your movements regardless, pulling you as close as he can manage with the console in the way.

Tim makes a small, muted noise when you slide your fingers into his hair. It shocks both of you enough to break the kiss--you stare at each other, unblinking. Then someone moves and the cup of ketchup you'd been sharing tips over and launches itself all over Tim's lap.

Both of you burst into laughter.

"You know," Tim says a few moments later, "You figuring out that I'm Robin is, um... really hot," he confesses, cheeks turning the same shade as the ketchup he's wiping off of his pants.

"Really?" you ask, still trying to catch your breath between giggles.

He looks you dead in the eye. "Really."

You dissolve into laughter again, and somehow you just know that your relationship with Tim--whatever form it takes--is right.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 4

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky was speechless after you kissed his hand, even though it was through the leather gloves.

You let go of his hand. "Was that too much? Sorry, I’m just overwhelmed by the offer you gave."

“I take that as a yes?” Bucky asked, still processing.

“Well yeah, didn’t I seal it by kissing your hand? I thought it was clear.” You smiled, a hint of playfulness in your eyes.

Bucky chuckled softly. "That's a new way to accept an offer, but joke aside, I’m grateful you accepted."

You lowered your guard, leaning back slightly. "So what happens next? I have to say, I won’t do anything that makes me a homewrecker."

“Oh gosh, nothing like that,” Bucky reassured you, his tone earnest.

“That’s a relief.” You let out a breath, feeling more at ease.

Suddenly, Bucky's phone rang. He picked it up and saw the caller ID: "Victoria." He bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to talk to her at this moment. However, he didn't want to ignore the call either, as his fiancée would quickly learn that he had no feelings for her.

He excused himself to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hello, my fiancé. I apologize for bothering you, but I heard something that doesn't sit quite right with me. I heard that you are with my older sister?" Victoria asked, her voice calm and cheerful, though her perfectly manicured fingers were crumpling a few papers nervously on the other end.

Bucky felt like he had just been caught cheating. "I am. I have something to discuss with her because of what happened last night."

"Oh, I see. Alright, I won’t bother you. See you soon." Victoria ended the call, smirking as she looked at her phone. She knew Bucky's reputation—quiet and calm but ruthless if disrespected. She remembered how you embarrassed him last night and thought perhaps he was giving you a warning.

Victoria felt a tickle of satisfaction, believing Bucky understood her without her needing to lift a finger. She felt lucky to have him as her fiancé.

Bucky, not entirely sure what had just transpired, felt relieved that Victoria didn't seem suspicious and quickly ended the call.

He returned to you and saw you chatting with the waitress and his secretary. In seconds, you had already become close to new people.

Unlike you, Bucky’s circle of friends all had to undergo background checks before he could trust them.

"Let’s talk in the car. I’ll drop you off," Bucky suggested.

"Sure," you agreed, thinking this would save you transportation money.

Inside the luxurious car, you felt like you were being enveloped by the comfortable seat. Even if you worked for 20 years on your teacher’s salary, you wouldn’t be able to afford this car.

Bucky wore his reading glasses and read a document. He spoke to you without lifting his head. "Tomorrow, after your school is over, I’ll pick you up, and we'll meet my psychiatrist."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

Bucky explained, "He knows my condition, and I hope bringing you to meet him will help us find a solution." His voice sounded serious, a little desperate.

"Have you had this disorder since you were little?" you asked.

He flinched, his hand stopping mid-motion as he was about to flip the paper. "It started when I was 12 years old," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

His expression turned grieving. You knew this was the moment to stop asking questions; after all, you’d just met him for the second time. There’s a limit to how personal you can get with someone you barely know.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

The car stopped in front of a small house. It looked old but cozy, especially the garden with its many flowers. Bucky wondered if it was you who took care of all the roses.

You rolled your eyes, "It was my grandma who has the green thumb."

Bucky glanced at the flowers. "Pretty. I’m grateful for your cooperation, but I hope none of this gets leaked to outsiders."

So he was giving you a warning. You made a gesture of zipping your lips. "My lips are sealed." Then you closed the car door and headed to your house.

After he saw you enter the house, he told his driver to start the car.

You watched the car drive away from behind the curtain.

"Is that your boyfriend, my Ophelia?" The cheerful voice of an older woman startled you. You jumped, turning to see your grandma, Cassandra, standing beside you.

She smiled at you, happiness evident in her eyes, but you couldn't share her joy. To your grandmother, you were her daughter, Ophelia, your mother, who had passed away years ago.

Life had been cruel to her, taking away her only daughter, her son-in-law ignored her, and her business at the same time, which took a significant toll on her. The final blow was dementia.

She didn’t remember you at all. At 70 years old, her mind had regressed to when she was 40. Because of the striking resemblance between you and your mother, she thought you were Ophelia.

You sighed and put on a smile for her. "No, he's just a friend."

Cassandra giggled. "Really? Your father will be jealous when he hears this. Uhuk... uhuk..." She started coughing. You bring her to sit on her chair.

Your heart clenched each time you heard your grandma cough. It was getting worse.

She needed surgery, but you didn't have the money.

Having a rich father like Jonathan was useless because you didn't have access to your money. The reason was clear: Genevieve and Victoria.

She really hated you and wanted you to starve to death.

You quickly put a blanket on Cassandra lap and turned on the air humidifier to help ease her cough.

As you added the eucalyptus and lemongrass essential oil into the humidifier, your eyes caught the family photo on the wall. It was a picture of your family—your dad, your mom, and your grandparents—standing in front of your childhood home. Everyone was gathered to celebrate your birthday. But now, it was all just a memory.

You clenched your fist, feeling a surge of determination. Soon, you would get what was supposed to be yours.

💋💋💋💋

The next day after school, you went with Bucky to see the psychiatrist. But before that, the school was in an uproar because of the clothes you were wearing. You, who always dressed like a vampire hunter in jeans, combat boots, a grey shirt, and a black jacket, were now wearing a casual outfit with a vintage aesthetic.

You wore a cream-colored blouse tucked into a high-waisted plaid skirt paired with brown loafers and a light brown blazer with elbow patches. Your hair was styled in soft waves, and you carried a small leather satchel. The change in your appearance left everyone talking.

Jimmy couldn’t believe you were the same teacher who always yelled at him. “Who are you?”

You replied with a smirk, “Your worst nightmare.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Despite your elegant outfit, you still commanded authority.

Bucky also noticed the change in your appearance. “You look different.”

You explained, “I don’t want your psychiatrist to think that I could be a bad influence on you.”

“Fair point,” he nodded in agreement.

After a while, both of you arrived at the destination, a fancy clinic. The receptionist, already accustomed to Bucky's appointments, greeted him warmly. “He’s waiting for you.”

Bucky led you to the room, which was bright and comfortable, conducive to a relaxed atmosphere. The walls were painted in calming colors and adorned with abstract art, and the furniture was modern yet inviting.

There was already someone sitting in the chair, holding a pen and a writing board. It was Dr. Javier, who had known Bucky for a long time.

Javier waited until both Bucky and you were seated. "You told me that you had a breakthrough. Is it her?" he inquired.

Bucky nodded, taking off his leather gloves and putting on a pulse oximeter on his finger. He then reached for your hand, and you placed yours in his.

Javier widened his eyes and adjusted his glasses. Bucky showed no signs of panic attacks, and his pulse appeared normal. "Wow. Incredible. How long has this been happening?" Javier asked.

Bucky replied, "Three days."

"After you touched her, you mentioned trying to shake somebody else's hand. Did the panic attacks suddenly reappear then?" Javier inquired further.

Bucky confirmed, "Yes."

Javier wondered what made you so special. Suddenly, he moved closer to you without warning.

You exclaimed, "What the-?"

“Interesting,” Javier nodded. “I can think of one reason: your body fragrance.”

You were taken aback. Did you really smell bad? You started sniffing your clothes. They were still new; you had only worn them three times, and they had been dry cleaned.

Then you remembered, “I am surrounded by buckets of sweat and cigarettes.”

Being around students who smoked and sweated a lot due to their frequent sports activities made you open all the classroom windows to get rid of the smell.

Bucky found it difficult to accept that his disorder could be triggered by your body odor.

Javier felt as though four eyes were judging him. He cleared his throat. “Ahem. Your case is one of a kind, Bucky. Perhaps her scent doesn’t trigger your trauma—” He didn’t continue when he felt someone glaring at him.

Trauma? Bucky’s trauma? You wondered what Javier meant.

Bucky crossed his arms and changed the subject. “So the solution to my disorder is the smell of a locker room?”

Javier raised both arms, trying to calm down his patient's anger. “I’m not saying it’s the solution, but it could be.”

Bucky sighed heavily. What kind of nonsense was this? But the way he met you was also out of the blue. His life is full of surprises now.

Author Note: Poor Cassandra. 🥺 Also the reader is a non-smoker.

Taglist:

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[rin-hanarin]

I realized that I've never addressed the elephant in Lucanis's room, also known as his romance plot, as a "Had been delusional about him for months before release" individual, so here's a surprisingly long rant/summary of how I felt about it in the process of playing the game.

As a Rook de Riva player, I obviously loved "Coffee with the Crows": we met Illario, joked about haha three Crows talking about nothing, talked business, Rook and Lucanis had a nice moment getting to know each other better outside of being teammates, Rook de Riva's background was acknowledged again, it really felt like a nice bonding moment, right?

Thennn a whole lot of nothing happens during any of the conversations between them, huh. Lucanis doesn't acknowledge flirting, which is fine, take your time bud, you'll get there; you keep pushing being supportive, he ignores you, you deal with his personal stuff for him one (1) time, and in my case he then proceeds to ignore Rook for 10+ hours of pure game time while busy talking to Neve at every opportunity until I finally get one (1) dialogue option to "express romantic interest in Lucanis".

And let me express my honest innermost feelings on the matter:

Not only did it feel like Lucanis genuinely couldn't care less about Rook even as a friend, it also felt like Rook was forcing Lucanis into something he simply wasn't interested in and that we were just getting in the way of his relationship with Neve. It was genuinely unpleasant to experience in a videogame that is supposed to be wish fulfillment and whatnot, and let me tell you, it was especially jarring because Dragon Age games also have a tendency of occasionally making you feel like the most special little protagonist known to Thedas, at the very least to your companions who you're supposedly building bonds with.

I loved hangout events in this game, too, I was so happy to just have these conversations about whatever with companions, have these little one-on-one moments with them that genuinely felt like walks with friends (especially with my bro my bestie my homie Davrin), and with Lucanis it started and ended with the coffee date. His fears and doubts about Rook later are never addressed, and lol lmao even, yeah, why would they be, when it feels like he barely acknowledges Rook exists outside of accompanying him to deal with his problems, none of which need Rook there? There's no reason outside of gameplay for him to ask Rook and not, say, his favorite Neve he talks about everything to? Somehow a lot of times when I hoped for any sort of dialogue with him, I was met with him talking about something very personal like his current feelings about Illario to Neve, like, isn't Rook supposed to know anything about anything, or are we just his convenient weird coworker he sometimes asks favours from?

We persevere though and keep supporting Lucanis, and can you take a wild guess what was waiting for me after like 40 hours of the game and after the infamous "kabedon assassin style" scene? Yeah bro, Lucanis just happened to talk to Neve. I wish I was making this shit up. My coping strategy was to come up with an entire jealousy subplot for my Rook because if I have to feel like I'm in the shittiest unrequited situationship of a triangular shape, I might as well do it on my own terms, right? It feels petty and stupid because as a player I like Neve, too, she's one of the coolest (no pun intended) characters, but as Rook, and Rook de Riva making an obvious choice especially? Yeah, let's just say this relationship fucking sucked for a while.

So after many trials and tribulations we're finally back with Inner Demons, and yeah, Neve is there again, I couldn't even give a shit at that point, and I'll be real here, the locking in didn't feel like we went through angsty slowburn or that we earned Lucanis' trust. Remember DA2's Fenris situation? Because I suddenly did, and surely one of many, many Neve banters I had to eavesdrop on could be sacrificed to have one or two banters that acknowledged Lucanis's anything towards Rook at all?

Also, Spite? Spite seemingly likes Rook more than Lucanis does. In between "It's so over" and "We're so back" in the Fade Ossuary it feels like somehow Rook gets more bonding time with Spite, which is kinda crazy to me.

We are so back though! As I mentioned, I was a "delusional before release" individual, I am perfectly capable of filling the gaps and extrapolating meaning from implications, and here's where one of the most infuriating things is: the rest of the romance is good, too! I can write whatever the hell I want between the beginning and the end of it, but like, why should I? How should I go about it, when in my game I was under the impression that Lucanis would rather just spend time with anyone other than Rook for seemingly no reason in particular, because there's simply nothing there? The fact that none of my pre-release ideas or comics even necessarily contradict anything about Lucanis or his romance as it is now is more telling than impressive honestly.

So where do I land with this exactly? Well, mostly in the glorious Fanon Land where I've been making my silly comics the whole time anyway. The highs are high, I love what they did at the end and how stable, protective and devoted Lucanis is, but the lows made me salty as shit and I wish I didn't have to feel that way to begin with. I wish I didn't have to connect the dots and joke about how badly Lucanis sucks at this and "Let's go girl give us nothing." And yes, I know about writer lay-offs, rewrites, restarts, etc etc, and it's a miracle that this game came out at all, but it hardly matters when you're just trying to do the good old datesim part of a Dragon Age game and end up feeling like a third wheel while trying very hard to get anything out of the character you're interested in.