#it's okay though there's always Legacy which lets me replay for FREE

[anto-pops]

Oh boy how do I say this...? Uh. Honestly I would advise you not to play Hogwarts Mystery. The game is brilliantly stupid. You play it and you will not believe what nonsense it is, especially in the latter years. It's only interesting these days to make fun of it. Not worth the stupid amount of in-app purchases it needs.

If you're interested in the story though, two YouTube channels come to mind... Iggames for the entire game with no commentary, and Akemi StormBorn for the game with commentary.

AUGH I was unaware of the in-app purchases. Pay-to-play games are the bane of my existence, especially ones that make you wait to continue playing just as incentive for you to spend money.

I'll definitely check out the Youtube channels instead though, I'd still be curious to see how "brilliantly stupid" it ends up being. I have no expectations for it so I'll go into it with only a few reservations LMAOOO thank you for the information !!

[shotsbyshae]

Rock & Roll (Part 3)

Warnings: Vomit inducing fluff, angst

Words: 1.6k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

A/N: Takes place post Endgame, so spoilers. For those who have age issues, Peter is over 18 in this scenario.

Song: Rock & Roll by Led Zeppelin

It's been a long time since I rock and rolled.

2025

The warmth from the coffee mug in your hand is a soothing comfort as you make your way down to the lab, the music coming from there drawing your attention. You smile as you see Peter working away in the same place you left him last night, his Zeppelin playlist still going strong. You had simply asked him about a suit, after all, yours had seen some wear and tear over the last two years. That hadn’t meant staying up all night working on it. Stopping in the doorway, the nostalgia takes over as you stare at the man before you.

2017

You walked into the lab and spotted the boy with his arms folded under his head on the table, a science book and notes open and scattered around him. You gently nudged his shoulder and he jolted awake, hair mussed, and eyes squinted as he focused on you.

“Hi,” you said quietly as you offered him your coffee.

“Sorry,” he looked embarrassed as he took the mug from you, sipping the caffeine. “I have a mid-term on Monday.”

“I don’t miss those days,” you remarked as you glanced through his notes. “Want me to help you study?”

“Oh – you don’t have to,” he shook his head.

“It’s fine,” you said with a smile as you pulled up a chair. “I don’t have to train with Natasha for another hour. I’m all yours.”

You had mourned Peter after the snap, well everyone really, but you and he were friends. Then he came back, five years later – five years older than when he left – he came back, but you lost Tony and Natasha that day and there was no time for celebrating everyone’s return, not even Peter Parker.

2025

You approach the table as he glances over at you, reaching up to scratch the back of his head shyly, “Oh – hi.”

“Looks like you didn’t sleep,” you offer him the mug, after all, he probably needs it more than you, and he graciously accepts it.

“Yea, I got sidetracked,” he replies, before sipping the coffee slowly, savoring the caramel flavor you've added. “That's good.” His face lights up with excitement as he places the mug on the table, “I came up with something new.”

“I didn’t want something new,” you shake your head. “The same design was fine Parker.”

The suit was Tony’s idea, a deep violet color with black accents. Peter knows what the concept means to you, that’s why he didn’t change Stark’s original plan, only the color scheme.

“I thought it might be time for a change,” Peter begins, working with device in his hand. “Someone should carry on the legacy – it can’t be me.”

“Parker, no,” you shake your head vehemently, not liking the idea of what he’s talking about. “I’m nothing like he was – I – I can’t.”

He smiles at you warmly as he flicks the device in his hand, causing a case on the wall closest to you to slowly open, revealing the suit he's been working on all night. Your hand covers your mouth as you look at it in surprise.

“You admired him – yea – but that’s not who really trained you,” Parker says. Tears well up in your eyes as you stare at the solid back suit that resembles Natasha’s. Her customary red accents now a deep violet color as are the Widow’s Bite bracelets which adorn both wrists. “I suggested it to Rhodey first, and he agrees, so do the rest of the guys.” He follows with you as you approach the suit, reaching out to run your fingers along the Kevlar material.

You clear your throat as you try to wipe the tears from your eyes without him noticing, “I don’t know.”

“I do,” Peter nudges you with his shoulder. “You’re her legacy.”

“Thank you.”

It’s the first time he's seen you look genuinely happy since you've returned, and he can't help the smile that crosses his face as you glance up at him. He feels a rush of endorphins as sees the glint of admiration in your eyes for him and that look alone would be worth a week of sleepless nights spent in the lab.

“I love it Parker,” you add before moving closer to inspect the utility belt and thigh holster.

***

It was supposed to be a simple run, take down a biker gang who were running guns across the border.

Nothing is ever simple in your world though.

You use the Widow’s Bite bracelets to electrocute the man who has you from behind. Parker is busy disarming a few of the other men and webbing them up when you see one of them break free from his webbing as if it’s nothing and your eyes widen in shock. He jerks two of the henchmen free from their webbing as well and they grab weapons.

“Enhanced,” is the only word you can get out before the man launches a table across the room at you, knocking you to the ground. Peter turns quickly, sensing the oncoming assault and ducks, grabbing the man’s fist as he swings, engaging in one on one combat with one of the assailants while the enhanced individual stalks towards you.

Gathering yourself from the floor, you shoot a taser from your wrist into the man, but it does nothing against him as he continues towards you. Using your boot, you kick one of the already broken legs off the table, severing it and you grab for it clumsily.

The simple mission has just turned into a fight for survival as Parker dodges bullets, his webbing depleted, and you face down an enhanced individual. Ninety-five percent of the time missions are successful with no casualties – no blood spilled – unfortunately this is that five percent.

 ***

You glance from the blood on your hands to the bodies on the floor, Parker moves slowly towards you, limping visibly from the bullet you saw graze his calf.

“Are you okay?” He pulls the red mask from his head, his dark eyes full of concern and his hair a chaotic mess.

“Yea,” you reply as he glances at the blood on you, “it’s not my blood.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Peter states.

Back on the quinjet, you scrub your hands clean as Parker places the controls on autopilot. He watches as you dry your hands angrily. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s had to kill someone, nor will it be the last. He doesn’t like it, but sometimes, it’s necessary in this line of work.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He questions you again quietly.

“I’m sorry,” you reply. “I’ll talk with Wilson about this. The intel should have been better. They had an enhanced individual and we should have known that. We shouldn’t have been put in that position, I’m sorry you had to – you had to do that.”

“Hey,” Peter tries to calm you. “It’s okay. It happens.”

“No,” your voice is louder, “it’s not okay. You’re just a –” You catch yourself and stop.

“Just a what?” He raises an eyebrow. “A kid?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“Is that what you see when you look at me?” He questions and you shake your head quickly as he folds his arms across his chest. “Then what do you see?”

“I see,” you begin, noticing how much he fills out the red and black suit. “you, Parker – like always.” He’s staring at you intensely. “Why? What do you see – with me?”

His dark eyes never waver, adrenaline from earlier still coursing through his veins, “I see the girl I’ve had a crush on since Berlin.” You tilt your head curiously, waiting for him to say he’s joking, but he begins to walk towards you. “Is that really what you see when you look at me?” He asks, hearing as your heart rate increases with each step he takes. “That awkward sixteen-year-old kid?” You move backwards as he advances until your legs bump the table. He’s far from the teenager you knew back then and even if your mind is having a hard time registering that, your body is screaming it.

You tense up as he moves closer to you, the table preventing you from getting away, “We were kids Parker. I was supposed to watch out for you.”

“We’re not kids anymore.” His eyes are full of sadness as he reaches up and brushes your hair behind your ear gently. “We watch out for each other now.”

His touch sends a shiver down your spine and your throat goes dry as he takes a step back, turning away from you. The words he said replaying through your mind, he’s had a crush on you since Berlin. Your hand flies to his arm instinctively to stop him, “All this time?” You question as he turns back to you slowly. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“You needed time to heal – we both did,” he responds. “I was waiting for you to come home.”

The muscles in his arm ripple underneath your touch as his hand moves to your waist, your voice doesn’t feel like your own as you say softly, “I’ve been home – what are you waiting for – Peter?”

His lips crash against yours – hot and hard – urgent as he drags you closer to him. There’s not an inch of space between you as your fingers tangle in his hair, heat flaring from every pulse point.

“Peter,” E.D.I.T.H.’s voice comes across the loudspeaker in the quinjet causing the two of you to pull apart slowly.

“Yes E.D.I.T.H.,” Peter acknowledges the AI.

“Mr. Stark’s protocol for this situation requires me give you a message,” the voice begins, the tone changing to a more serious one. “Took you long enough kid.”

You close your eyes, burying your face into Peter’s shoulder as you try not to laugh. Peter, however, does laugh a little as he pinches the bridge of his nose before saying, “E.D.I.T.H. initiate privacy mode please.”

“Yes, Peter.”

[razorblade180]

Patriarchal Prison Break2

[Whitley’s Room]

He’s just laying there looking at the ceiling. Eyes are little red and puffy from tears from the eventsa few hours earlier.

*knock knock knock*

Whitley:Go away Weiss.....

*door opens*

Whitley:*raises up* Weiss I said go- ohhhh

Winter:*standing in the door frame* Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before. I can see why Weiss was worried.

Whitley:She called you?

Winter:Her and Klein; you’re causing quite the commotion as usual. *sits next to him* They didn’t specifically tell me to show up but I felt like I’m the one suited for this talk the most.

Whitley:*turns away from her* No offense but I find that hard to believe. Not like we’ve ever really talked before about....anything really.

Winter:*Frowns* I know we aren’t exactly close and everything about this is new. However, all I ask is for you to put a little faith in me just this once.

Whitley:........Did you see the news about me?

Winter:I did, I’ve also heard about how it’s been affected your.......relationship?

Whitley:The two of us weren’t a thing actually. We....were just seeing how things would go. Now we’re even friends.

Winter:Is that so? Well I guess that’s what happens, when you let father walk all over you like a door mat.

Whitley:*gripping his cover* You don’t have to rub it in.

Winter:Rubbing it in isn’t mine intention. I’m just stating the facts. This could’ve been avoided but you let it get out of hand.

Whitley:Winter I swear to god....

Winter:You let him order you around like a puppet. No wonder Mrs.Rose le-

Whitley:SHUT UP!!!! *jumping up from his bed with tears in his eyes* GET OFF MY CASE ALREADY!!!!

Winter:*smiles* That feeling you have right now, where was it for father? If what I said was enough to anger you then you must be furious with him.

Whitley:......*shaking* you of all people should know it’s not that easy. Just being in that room with him is like....like-

Winter:A jet....

Whitley:Huh?

Winter:A jet. *stands up* it’s one of the most forceful things you can be on. Most people want to scream the moment it takes off but find themselves unable to. In the moment people freeze up from the pressure and intensity of the situation. Sound familiar?

Whitley:*shoulders slouch* Is there a point to this analogy?

Winter:How do you think I reacted when I first got to be in one?

Whitley:Let me guess, it was no big deal for you?

Winter:I blacked out.

Whitley:*eyes widen* Excuse me?

Winter:*chuckles* You sound surprised. I blacked out the moment it took off like most people even though I trained for it. It was embarrassing really. Personally I didn’t want to show my face afterwards since I talked such a big game about owning it. Until the General reminded me of something.

Whitley:What would that be?

Winter:*reaches for his face and wipes his tears* Obstacles wouldn’t be called that if it didn’t take time to overcome. It’s only human stumble and fall on the first attempt on something so taxing. Our father raised us to fear anything out of his design; to break our spirits.

Whitley:How did you overcome the jet?

Winter:Confidence in myself was everything. I had the training and new what to expect. All that was left was to take a deep breath and face it head on. You’re lucky, unlike father you’ve dealt with overwhelming pressure your whole life. He should be the one freezing up if you just have confidence.

Whitley:*looking down at the ground* That’s easier said than done. I’m not as strong willed as you or as rebellious as Weiss. I’m just- *feels an arm pull him into an embrace*

Winter:You’re smart and calculating. Leagues above what were at your age; use that to your advantage. Strength does come in many forms. *rubbing his head* Whitley, what do you want to gain out of all this?

Whitley:What do you mean?

Winter:It’s not a trick question. What makes you want to rebel against father now more than other?

Whitley:I.....want to be close to Ruby. No matter what he says about her.

Winter:Then if you truly want that then let it be the thing that gives you the confidence you need to face him. After all, I think that’s what she wanted to see from you all along.

Whitley:Sigh, I really messed up with her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she never wanted to see me again.

Winter:Let me tell you a secret about girls. Second chances is all we want to give if the person we care about truly wants to do better. Are you one of those people?

Whitley:....You really are good at this pep talk thing you know that.

Winter:I left you behind once. *hugs him tighter* Never again.... I promise.

[Living Room]

Ruby:*hugging her knees as she watches tv until-*......

Weiss:*steps in front of her*Ruby....

Ruby:Can we please not do this. I’m not really in the mood to discuss this.

Weiss:I’m not in the mood to discuss a lot of things yet you always decide to try and help anyways. *cuts off tv* for the record, I told you not to go follow him.

Ruby:Did you know he would say that?

Weiss:I knew whatever was gonna happen in that room was going to paint an ugly picture of the situation. A picture that was manipulated by my father.

Ruby:*sniff* I just can’t stop replaying those words in my head. “Irrelevant” the way he said felt so cold and distant. *sniff* Who could say such a thing?

Weiss:.....Me.

Ruby:*looks at her confused*

Weiss:Ruby I wish I could tell you Whitley was just being a jerk but I can’t. Honestly if I was in his position with our father discussing Jaune, I might crumble and make the same mistake. Writing him off as just a phase.

Ruby:How could you say that so effortlessly!?

Weiss:Because it’s not effortless. My heart would be breaking every step of the way; especially if he heard those words.

Ruby:Why say them in the first place? Why cause that kind of pain?

Weiss:Like I said earlier, it’s definitely a mistake to go down that path. That path though is all Whitley knows. This house is all he’s ever known unlike me. Our upbringing is the only thing he has to fall back on.

Ruby:Things can be different now though. He has to ask for help if he needs it.

Weiss:Has, not “had?” I thought you wanted to shut him out.

Ruby:*wipes tears* Had, I meant had.....

Weiss:You know if you asked me how I would describe my brother I would say bossy. Rude, unapologetic, cold, arrogant, just like I was. But then also like me, he met you. You know what I think of him now?

Ruby:....

Weiss:He’s a little dorky, sarcastic, kind, gentle, insecure about his actions, yet still so smart and extroverted even more than me at times. Do you know I’ve never seen him truly smile until he was around you? His face lights up like Nora’s when she sees Ren. Simply by you walking into the room.

Ruby:I....haven’t noticed that.

Weiss:He wants to do right by you, all of us. It’s just gonna take a bit more time. I wasn’t exactly able to express my feelings to everyone over night and stand up to my father. Just like with me can you just be a little more patient with him? *wiping her tears*

Ruby:Weiss I.....I really like him. *sniff* hehehe being vulnerable like this is a bit scary.

Weiss:*Hugs her* I told you you that in his place I might’ve made the same mistake. You know what else I would do?

Ruby:What’s that?

Weiss:*smiles at her* Not make the same one a second time. Because just like me with Jaune, Whitley can’t stand hurting people he wants to be close with. He really likes you too.

Ruby*Wipes her eyes* You...you think so?

Weiss:No doubt about it. He probably also wishes you are less sugar....

Ruby:Ah! *nudges her* I thought we were having a moment here? *holding back a small smile*

Weiss:Our little moment is up because....*points to the hallway as Whitley down from it with Winter.

Whitley:H...hey.

Ruby:Hi.....

Whitley:*rubbing his arm* Listen I know what you said before but-

Ruby:Dinner.....

Whitley:Huh?

Ruby:It’s almost dinner time. Maybe we should go somewhere and just talk...?

Whitley:Oh, ummm o...kay. *grabs a jacket*

*both of them stand up and start walking towards the door*

Whitley:....*slowly reaches for her hand before backing off* (No, she probably wouldn’t-)

Ruby:*grabs his hand*........

Whitley:......

Ruby:Don’t get it twisted. I’m still really upset but....I like holding your hand. *grpping a bit harder as she blushes*

Whitley:Fair enough *smiling as they both leaves*

Weiss:You think he’ll okay?

Winter:You and I managed. I’m everything will-

Jacques:*walks in* Winter? What brings you here?

Winter:Just visiting my siblings. *steps in front of Weiss* I was in the area.

Jacques:Well next time call. You might’ve been raised here but you do not have free range to come and go as you please.

Weiss:You have some nerve to-

Winter:It’s okay Weiss. *walks up to him* I also came to give you some advice. I’d be very carful with what you say and do from here on out.

Jacques:And why is that young lady?

Winter:The point of a legacy is to be remembered after you’re gone.You’ve spent your entire life trying to create yours through this family. *fixes his tie* one small problem though.

Jacques:Which is wha- ugh! *tie suddenly a bit too tight*

Winter:It doesn’t matter what you create if your kids destroy it; then you wasted your life. You’d only would’ve been a man with his place in history already grazed over or forgotten entirely. *lets go* You are two thirds of the way there already. As your daughter I’d recommend being very careful with my brother. You can’t afford any more mistakes.

Jacques:Tsk the only mistake I made was not keeping the two of you in check when I should’ve been more vigilant. A mistake I’ve learned from. *walks away*

Weiss:Honestly that warning was too good for him. I wouldn’t have said a thing.

Winter:Perhaps, at the end of the day maybe I’m hoping for too much out of him. Oh well, not everyone is built to take pressure; especially those too busy trying to create it. *looks at door* (You’re gonna be just fine Whitley) Weiss, let’s spend some time together.

Weiss:*smiles* Okay!

[loserholland]

𝐆𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

𝟎𝟎𝟑 ➺ 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐬

Pairing ➺ Thomas Shelby x Mafia!Reader Modern AU

Warning ➺ Uh none really i think, i decided chapter 4 would be filled with angst maybe idk i couldn’t bare writing the angst literally felt #depressed and was like no go. angst at the end?

Word Count ➺ 1,757

Summary ➺ Two Mafia’s, two polar opposites, two leaders with blood on their hands.

A/N ➺ Also send me your thoughts! Feel free to reblog! PS, this was so much fun to write omg & I decided for the series to take place about 2 years after Grace’s death and before Lizzie is pregnant. 

*I also edited this and added some detail on*

Père céleste, s'il te plaît, pardonne-moi = heavenly father forgive me

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @hollandfieldblurbs , @beerbottlesandchainsaws, @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine​, @spideyyypeter

☆♜ 𝐆𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♜☆ ➺ @softcillian , @crazyzoey48484, @thatsamegirl, @softpetcrparker, @camilovestar, @ghosttling , @trash-can-beebo, @notanovak-iller, @shelbyaesthetic

☞  Masterlist  ☜

What is stronger than the human heart, which shatters over and over and still lives.

- Rupi Kaur

(Y/N) tapped her heels against the wood floor of Tommy’s study, her thumb nail placed between her front teeth staring at the handsome man in front of her who sat there with a glass on whiskey in one hand and a cigarette between his lips.

She watched as Tommy’s mouth moved, yet nothing came out. Yes, she was aware that he was talking and words were coming out of his mouth yet they were inaudible to her. Her mind replayed the event from earlier, remembering the feeling of his calloused hand wrapped around her throat as she stared back up at him with such innocence.

The memory made her rub her thighs together in hopes for some sort of relief, “(Y/N).” oh that accent, that goddamn Birmingham accent, it was husky and smooth that accent can have a girl on her knees praising jesus and thanking him for sending such a god to their feet. 

Goddammit that accent made her mind cloudy, this was suppose to be professional but ever since this goddamn handsome man with raven hair, a jawline that could cut and those beautiful blue eyes. Tommy’s eyes were the most beautiful ever blue eyes she’s ever saw, they were so deep and captivating.

They would have you on your knee’s pleading “Please Mr.Shelby, I’m sorry Mr.Shelby, Please give me-” her thoughts came to a halt at the sound of Tommy’s voice.

“Are you okay love, you seem flustered.”

 (Y/N) leaned back into her seat brushing her hair away from her face, situating herself “M’fine, just need a drink.” she mumbled standing from the seat her hands tugged at the hem of her dress pulling it down the material that rolled up her thigh.

Tommy watched as she poured herself a glass of whiskey downing the drink in thirst showing no reaction of the liquor that burned her throat. “I’m interested, in buying one of your clubs. Rendezvous to be exact.” (Y/N) scoffed lightly turning around to face Tommy.

“You’re joking right?” (Y/N) questioned in disbelief, she was no way in hell selling her father’s first ever bar, it was his legacy that would and will always be kept in the family. Tommy on the other hand sat there unamused “Am I laughing?” 

(Y/N) stalked over to her seat standing behind leaning forward till some of her exposed cleavage met Tommy’s view.

“I am not selling my father’s bar Thomas,” Ignoring his request to call him Tommy, she stated in a monotone voice, she inhaled sharply before breathing out “, that’s like you selling The Garrison. If I were to tell you I wanted The Garrison, you’d say no before I could even finish my sentence.” Tommy knew she wasn’t wrong there, The Garrison was their pub, their place to lay back after a long day.

Tommy scoffed in annoyance glaring at the woman who stood before him, “You know I’m not wrong Thomas, we both know I’m right.” he didn’t want to admit it, if there was one thing everyone knew about Tommy Shelby was to never test his patience and that he was always right.

Though here stood (Y/N), the complete opposite of him. She was stubborn and would be around the bush, avoiding the topic as long as she could before being stuck in the corner with no choice but to talk.

“Well, how about my London club for one of your clubs.” Tommy said nonchalantly growing impatient with (Y/N) actions, he tried his best to stay content and not lash out at the beautiful woman in front of me.

(Y/N) tapped her chin lightly quietly overthinking his offer, “Hm, alright let’s go see it.” she turned on her heels and headed for the door as Tommy stayed seated. 

“Who said we’re going tonight love? You’re here for the rest of the week right? We’ll go tomorrow, now c’mon I’ll drop you to your hotel.” Tommy rose from his seat following her out the door grabbing his blazer and keys. Tommy walked to the garage door turning around to see if (Y/N) was following him, though she wasn’t he stalked over to where she stood.

She stared up at the empty space on the wall of the staircase, the empty space that left her wondering what could’ve been there, curiosity filled her veins wanting nothing more than to ask what was placed there. 

“You had something up there... what happened to it?” Tommy stood a few feet away from (Y/N), his patiences wore so thing only held by a single strand. “Ever heard of curiosity killed the cat?” Tommy questioned watching as she stood her ground, still fixated on the wall. 

(Y/N) huffed slightly turning to look at Tommy then back up at the wall ignoring his stare that shot many bullets to your head. 

“Tell me or else you’ll have to take me to your club.” Tommy turned on his heels giving her not much of an answer, so she stood there for a few minutes before he shouted “Get in the car, we’re going to the club.” (Y/N) smirked to herself, she always get’s what she wants. 

Shot after shot after shot.

Whiskey after whiskey, and now a cigarette hung from her lips.

The room was filled with smoke and burning stench of alcohol, (Y/N) sat in the booth humming as she danced in her seat to the music that was muffled from the inside of their private room.  She reached for the bottle of whiskey that set in the middle of the table, pouring more into her glass. 

Tommy on the other hand sat there with his cigarette between his index and middle finger, bringing the roll of tobacco to his lips. He didn’t feel like drinking, also because he was the designated driver and didn’t want to have a one night stand. 

Odd right? The Tommy Shelby was always one to have such a high sex drive, he’d take out his aggression with sex, forget about his long day sex. Yet with (Y/N) he didn’t want nor felt the need to get her into bed, she was not only a boss and hopefully business partner. She was just different, a good different.

The simplest things he did or said could have a woman on her knees for him begging at his mercy. (Y/N) took a long drag of her cigarette, leaning back into the velvet seats blowing the smoke in Tommy’s directions. She smiled to herself, remembering the first time they met she had done the exact same thing.

“Is this how you get women?” (Y/N) tapped the end up her cigarette into the ash tray glancing up at Tommy’s unemotional face that was hard to read. He shrugged lightly staring at the powerful woman in front of him.

“No, I have a service.” Tommy simply answered causing (Y/N) to snort at his answer reaching for the bottle of whiskey instead of pouring some into her glass she lipped the bottle swallowing it without hesitation.

She pointed the bottle in his direction before bursting out in laughter, by then she had thought maybe Tommy think’s she’s a psycho or something by the sudden out burst of laughter.

“You can have any woman at your feet on her knees, begging for you to take her and use her. Yet you use a service?” all he did was shrug, usually a shrug either means yes or no it usually meant a maybe. (Y/N) slowly began to slur her words as she held the bottle of truth in her hands, she sighed lightly placing the bottle back onto the table with a loud thud. 

She propped her head onto her hand and stared at Tommy, the music playing outside muffled against the room, the lights were dim and yet he still looked like a god. 

“Do you think you could ever love again?” 

Tommy looked over at (Y/N), tilting his head in confusion as he stared at (Y/N) in awe. He could see a small broken light in her eyes, the way they averted from his when she asked the question. “After you lost your wife.. do you think you could love someone as much as you loved her?” she was quiet, her voice barley above a whisper only loud enough for him to hear over the music.

“I could never forget nor meet someone who loved and accepted me like she did. But, I think only time will tell.” Tommy answered earning a small nod from (Y/N). She scoffed to herself, looking at the table then back at Tommy “Someone once told my father, that people like us, the people like us who do this dirty businesses could never be loved..” she traced her fingers on the table drawing random shapes trailing off lightly.

“.. we’ll always be alone, and any love we get, we will have to pay for.” she could feel the tears brimming her eyes which she quickly blinked away not wanting to be seen at her most vulnerable moment. There was only one person who had seen her at her most vulnerable moment, she built this wall to hide her emotions. The one time she tore them down, only to be heartbroken by the one she had let in. Not only did her father have to pay for his sins but she did too.

“I hate to admit it but, fuck. I was so close to a chance at love, so fucking close,” (Y/N) looked up at Tommy licking her lips before continuing, “, it’s people like us that hurt the most, it’s the people like us that can have our heart’s broken over and over yet we’re still alive.”

She leaned back into the seat once more, looking up at the ceiling her eye lids felt heavy all she wanted was to allow sleep to consume her. “It’s the people like us.” she whispered before falling sideways into the seat. 

Tommy stood up looking over at (Y/N) who knocked out on the velvet seat, he got up taking her in his arms and carried her out the bar. Though her words echoed as they left, “we’ll always be alone, and any love we get, we will have to pay for.” he couldn’t help but wonder if she also suffered a lost that left her to build up this wall, an exterior to hide what she felt on the inside. He wondered if she could be his equal.

[singledadkuroo]

It's...completely weird, being alive. It's weird to return to a life stood still (for him, anyway) when everyone else has moved on to some new phase in their lives without him.

He can't remember his e-mail password. He's missed, like, so many national and international events that he has hours upon hours of CNN footage to catch up on. There are actual honest to god statues of him in several major cities and people he's never met celebrating his return like it's a divine event of some crap.

And he hasn't even seen Tim yet. Today, today, but it was such a frustrating several days that he almost snapped at Ma Kent, of all people. A woman who's never done anything wrong, ever, and took his pain in the ass in no questions asked.

He asked so many people how Tim was doing, even checked vigilante fan boards to try and get an inkling of Robin's status, but the answers were always dubious. A shrug. A change of subject. An outright lie. All he knows so far is that he's had a few change of outfits and has somehow acquired a shitty little brother who runs around in the old colors.

Stately Wayne Manor. Definitely not in his top ten places to hang, even with Batman's actual permission to be here. It still feels like he's going to be personally ejected by merely existing, or being too slutty like that one time; Batman, for his part, is being ridiculously nicer than he's been historically. It's probably a pity thing. Why couldn't he just meet Tim...anywhere else? Antarctica, maybe.

He raps a few times on the ostentatious as FUCK door knocker thingie. It isn't Alfred who answers.

The first thing he notices when he smushes Tim against him is that he's lost weight. He feels very delicate in just jeans and a t-shirt, all little instances of baby fat gone, even if Kon knows he's basically all muscle and probably more capable of kicking ass now. The second thing he notices is that his hair is different, longer and softer when he cards his fingers through. The third thing he notices is that he smells weird. Not bad at all, just weird. Familiar and new at the same time.

Tim allows the embrace for a few moments before it's clear he wants to escape. Kon is a little hurt by this because they used to be glued together for hours, willingly and happily. See? This is why it's weird being alive. Everything's different and he himself has not changed.

"Kon," Tim says softly, politely, once he's free, "it's good to see you."

Good to see you? Like they're old high school acquaintances catching up at Applebee's. He used to fucking hate when Tim acted like this, and now it seems to just be his thing all the time. Thanks, Bruce!

Tim was in love with him, right? Kon didn't imagine that? Kissing him and tasting his sigh when he touched him and saying 'I love you'? Gay, sappy moments that actually replayed in Kon's conscious when he was in stasis or whatever the hell that was? No? Not imagined? Okay.

"Can I come in, Timbird?" It's a little gruff, he'll admit.

Tim is an idiot because he turns his head nervously to look back in the house and doesn't try to hide how nervous he is, which is of course weird and suspicious as hell. Is he hiding a new boyfriend in there or something?

"I don't think--"

"Oh, just let him in," the little kid, the shitty one, comes out of nowhere, "he's going to find out, anyway."

Tim looks like he actually wants to murder the brat. Kon's heart is like a lead weight in his chest as he steps past the threshold, ready to be introduced to Tim's handsome and cool new beau that totally replaced him.

No one's there. Tim isn't looking at him, though, and the look on his face is ugly and scared. Pale, drawn, like a sleepless night times a hundred.

"Keanu?" Damian calls, not particularly loud.

Kon's eyes are only half as fast as Clark's on a good day. He has to really focus to register the flying toddler that zooms in from out of nowhere and burrows into Tim so forcefully he's almost knocked off his feet.

The child makes grabby hands at Tim's face, little butt supported by Tim's arm. He's olive toned, curly dark hair, big smile. Your average two year old, except he can fly like a speeding bullet and almost knock people three times his size over.

What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On?

The kid has a hand on Tim's cheek, turns and reaches out to Kon with his free hand. He recognizes those sea blue eyes, has seen enough baby pictures of Clark for the considerable resemblance to send a chill down his spine.

So this is why Tim's acting so squirrelly. This is why everyone and their mother hasn't been able to look him in the eyes when he's asked after him. This is despicable. This is heartbreaking.

"Is that supposed to be me?"

Tim winces, shifts the baby to his hip in such a natural movement it's clearly second nature to him. So how long did he wait after Kon died before he decided to do this, huh? Like a fucking week?

"Kon--"

"Save it, Drake." It comes out sharp, makes the baby recoil with wide eyes. "Why did you do this? How did you do this?"

"I--Cadmus." Tim is using that robot voice Kon hates, clinical and emotionless. "I begged them to help me. I needed...something that reminded me of you."

"So he's a thing to you."

"No!" Ah, there he is. "I love Keanu."

Yeah, course you do. "Does Clark know?"

"Yes."

"And Lex? He hasn't come for his bouncing baby boy?"

Tim's head bows into the baby's, Keanu's, hair. His face screws into an expression Kon has never seen on him before--but isn't he learning all kinds of things about Tim today? Like that he's more selfish and pathetic than Kon could ever fathom?

Ten minutes ago, he thought he was reuniting with a boy he would love forever, a boy he barely remembered what it was like to not love. It's been a real emotional whirlwind, that's for sure.

"He's not Luthor's."

Kon has met Superman clones before, the ones without human DNA to stabilize their growth--they're sad, scared, falling apart like wet paper. This kid? Picture of fucking health. Beautiful.

"Really? Then who--"

"Me. He's mine."

Wow. Alrighty then. Wow. Tim really went and made their kid. Kon would be lying if he claimed that's something he never thought about, but it was never like this. In his mind, they were married. They were excited. And? There were no labs or test tubes involved whatsoever.

"Gotcha. Fuck you, Tim."

Damian, silent until this point, snorts and makes a show of leaving the room. Tim is white as a sheet, unmoving except for the thumb rubbing the baby's back. He's clearly not surprised by Kon's response, which almost makes this even worse; it means he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this would be the last legacy Kon would ever choose for himself.

They're not done. He has plenty more to say, but he really can't tonight. Can you blame him for, uh, not being prepared even remotely for this fucking bullshit?

[junker-town]

The Patriots’ Tom Brady vs. Bill Belichick feud, explained

An ESPN report detailed a strained relationship between Belichick, Kraft, and Brady.

The New England Patriots coasted into the playoffs and are Super Bowl favorites once again, but things might not be so rosy behind the scenes. A report from ESPN’s Seth Wickersham says that tensions between the team’s twin icons, head coach Bill Belichick, and quarterback Tom Brady, have festered to the point that the situation might just be untenable going forward.

In the middle of it is Robert Kraft, the team’s owner, who inserted himself into the fray in a meeting with Belichick this season that ended with Kraft instructing his head coach to trade backup quarterback Jimmy Garoppolo, according to the report. In the end, Kraft will be tasked with trying to find a resolution between his coach and his quarterback, if finding any middle ground is even possible at this point.

In some ways it was inevitable, and it’s worth pointing out the fact that both Belichick and Brady were able to put their egos aside and get along for 17 seasons, seven Super Bowl appearances, and five wins. But nothing lasts forever.

So this is how the Patriot dynasty ends?

What are the reasons for their reported beef?

The quick version of it is this: Brady and Belichick are both “ruthless and proud self-made men, both secure though still unfinished in their legacies,” as described in the article. How do you keep that kind of ego in the same room, on the same page together for nearly two decades without it unraveling?

Things have finally come to a head over four main issues — the role of Brady’s personal trainer and business partner, Alex Guerrero; the succession plan at quarterback; Belichick’s coaching style; and irreconcilable differences over who’s responsible for the team’s unprecedented success over the years.

Guerrero, the TB12 method have created problems for Belichick and the team.

Brady’s insistence in recent years that he’ll play into his 40s stems from his relationship with Guerrero, his various training and lifestyle methods, and, as our own Matt Ufford called it, the “pseudoscientific grift” that Brady and Guerrero have built into a lifestyle business.

The faith Brady espouses in his program and its impact on his career has led to other players feeling pressured to turn to Guerrero and the TB12 method. For some it’s worked fine. Others describe it “like a cult.”

The ESPN report says players feel pressured to use the program, even over the team’s own medical and training staff. Guerrero even went so far as to blame the team’s training staff for making a few players’ injuries worse.

Guerrero pushed back against those claims in a blog post that was published Friday in response to the ESPN report:

With every one of these clients, my only goal has been to help them bring forth positive changes in their body & mind. I have always tried to be respectful of the staff each player answers to, and I have never tried to create divisiveness or conflict. My ultimate goal has always been to do my very best to help the player get back on the field and help their team. I have never had any motive other than that. My approach is and always has been to give people information based on my beliefs — then let them follow their own path toward what they believe works best for them. Ultimately every decision is up to each individual athlete.

Because of his relationship with Brady and the fact that he treated so many other players, Guerrero had nearly unlimited access to the team. But Belichick curbed that this year, exiling him from the sideline and locker room. After Belichick spelled that out in an email to Guerrero, several players reported that Guerrero had told them that Belichick had barred him from treating them. Some saw that as an attempt by Brady’s trainer to turn players against Belichick, dividing the team.

How does Jimmy Garoppolo figure into this?

Despite Brady’s claims that his TB12 program can keep him playing into his 40s like he was still young, he hasn’t been as great as he was in his 30s. Naturally, Belichick saw the need to groom a new quarterback — Jimmy Garoppolo — as Brady’s eventual replacement.

Brady and Garoppolo had an amicable relationship, but it didn’t go beyond the surface. The veteran wasn’t mentoring his potential replacement, which isn’t an especially new phenomenon in the NFL. But did Brady feel more threatened by Garoppolo than just not wanting to spend time giving him pointers on footwork?

The ESPN report relays an incident from last season, after Garoppolo hurt his shoulder in the second game of the season while filling in for the suspended Brady. Garoppolo set up a visit to the TB12 clinic, but when he showed up at the scheduled time, nobody was there. He finally got in two weeks later but only after a “high-ranking Patriots staffer” called to find out why he hadn’t been treated.

Brady started talking more with Kraft and Belichick this fall about wanting to play into his 40s, being the team’s franchise quarterback for years to come. Kraft was willing to accept that idea. But committing to Tom Brady indefinitely created a problem for the Patriots because Garoppolo, who Belichick viewed as Brady’s replacement, was scheduled to be a free agent after the 2017 season.

Belichick didn’t want to trade him.

“If we trade Jimmy, we’re the Cleveland Browns, with no succession plan,” is how one person inside the team described it.

The Patriots made a modest, $17-$18 million per year, offer, but Garoppolo and his agent, who also happens to be Brady’s agent, rejected it. After resisting lucrative offers in the spring to trade Garoppolo, Belichick was finally instructed by Kraft to trade him.

Stop here for a second and reflect on that, because it’s a MAJOR plot point in this whole thing — one that might ultimately do more to break up the Belichick-Brady-Kraft triumvirate than anything else.

Belichick has always believed that owners should not be involved in football decisions, and when that happens, he believed it was time to get out. He was “furious and demoralized” by Kraft’s order.

Following that decision, according to the report, New England’s head coach “left the impression with some friends that the current dynamic was unsustainable.”

Did Brady force the Patriots to trade Garoppolo?

No. That is not at all in the ESPN report, but the rumor circulated the night before the report was released.

Belichick STILL hasn’t given Brady a ‘Patriot of the Week’ award this year.

It sounds funny, because it is. But it also encapsulates the growing divide between the quarterback and the head coach.

Belichick has never accorded Brady any special treatment compared to other players. He takes his fair share of criticism, same as everyone else. In fact, he might even take more, part of the coach’s method of showing the rest of the team that no player is above, ahem, The Patriot Way.

Brady was always accepting of it, but that changed in 2017. After a win over the Texans in the playoffs last season, Belichick was reportedly a little tougher on Brady than usual over a rough outing.

“This will get us beat,” he told the team after replaying a Brady interception. “We were lucky to get away with a win.”

The coach’s style conflicts with another aspect of the TB12 method: Brady’s advocacy of positive thinking.

From the ESPN story:

Belichick’s negativity and cynicism have gotten old, Brady has told other Patriots players and staff. He feels he has accomplished enough that he shouldn’t have to endure so much grief. Patriots staffers have noticed that, this year more than ever, he seems to volley between unwavering confidence and driving insecurity. Brady has noted to staff a few times this year that no matter how many game-changing throws he makes, Belichick hasn’t awarded him Patriot of the Week all year.

What are the Patriots saying about the report?

As you’d expect, the Patriots refute any rumors about a rift:

Joint statement from Patriots Chairman and CEO Robert Kraft, Head Coach Bill Belichick and quarterback Tom Brady: http://pic.twitter.com/i555gWZIi6

— New England Patriots (@Patriots) January 5, 2018

Owner Robert Kraft told Sports Illustrated's Peter King on January 6 that he did not hold an extended meeting about quarterbacks with Belichick.

“Until Monday at the trade deadline—I believe that was Oct. 30—the last time I talked to Bill about Jimmy’s situation was in a group with Bill, [club president] Jonathan [Kraft], [director of player personnel] Nick Caserio … a small group of us, I think in June. That is the last time I talked to Bill about it. I would see Nick occasionally and say, ‘Anything going on?’

“I assumed once the season started, we’d talk again at the end of the season about it. The next time I spoke with Bill about it was the Monday before the trade deadline. He called me on that Monday and said he got a deal with San Francisco, Jimmy for a second-round pick and [quarterback] Brian Hoyer. Turns out they had to cut Hoyer and then we got him. But really, this was basically a second-round pick and Brian Hoyer for Jimmy. Bill asked me if I was OK with this. I was really taken aback a little bit. I wanted to think about it. I talked to Jonathan, who was okay with it, and I called Bill back and said, ‘OK.’”

Kraft also said Wickersham's story was “a total fabrication and fiction. I am telling you, it’s fiction.” He also shot down reports of trading Belichick, too. Despite the numerous reports, Kraft praised the five-time Super Bowl-winning head coach.

"When you’re lucky enough to have someone exceptional, you let them do their job and you get out of the way.”

But keeping Brady and Garoppolo, according to Kraft, would have been difficult. He said New England would have had to place a franchise tag on Garoppolo to keep him for another season.

Bill Belichick also said that he plans to coach the Patriots in 2018. When asked, he said, “Absolutely.”

What happens next?

Kraft was supposed to meet with Brady and Belichick in December, but that didn’t happen. He’s expected to sit down with them at some point during the offseason, after their playoff run, in an attempt to find a solution.

Offensive coordinator Josh McDaniels and defensive coordinator Matt Patricia are both expected to take head coaching jobs this year. (Belichick has spent time this year getting both ready for head coaching jobs, something he doesn’t usually do to a large extent.) Indoctrinating a new staff, building a team around a quarterback in his 40s, and trying to find and groom a new quarterback this year may be more than Belichick wants to do next season, not to mention dealing with Brady’s personal fitness guru.

So it shouldn’t be too surprising that rumors are already circulating of a possible exit for Belichick after the playoffs. According to the New York Daily News, the vacancy New York Giants is an attractive option that Belichick has noticed. With the Giants, Belichick would have the No. 3 pick in the 2018 NFL Draft to work with.

As the Patriots get ready to make a run at a sixth Super Bowl win, it’s impossible to overlook the fact that even another Lombardi Trophy might not be enough to hold the dynasty together.

One thing’s for sure — the idea of another Patriots Super Bowl run was anathema to most fans. Not anymore.

The Pats turned Deflategate into a positive with the Garoppolo trade