#just because he was an ass after being driven to insanity must mean he was born like that

[astral-aromance]

I feel like 99% of the Silmarillion fans forget that Fëanor was actually a very likeable guy for most of his life.

That is literally a significant part of why people followed him. A lot of people loved and admired him. He wasn't mean to random people, and definitely not "a toxic husband/father." The whole point of his story is that he was universally beloved, which is what made his fall so impactful.

[cherryanony]

IN DEFENSE OF ELENA GILBERT: Why Do Yall Hate Emotional Women?

Vampire Diaries - Elena Gilbert pictured doing nothing wrong

HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

I started watching The Vampire Diaries back in 2016, right as it was coming to its long overdue close. To say I was obsessed was an understatement.

I would spend hours, days, WEEKS, consuming fan content, rewatching episodes and scenes over and over agin, discussing stupid plot points and writing descions that were made and throughout all of that one question has always dangled over my head...

Why does everybody hate Elena Gilbert?

Despite The Vampires Diaries being a dark supernatural teen drama filled to the brim with freaks & weirdos, murderers, psychopaths, evil forces and THE ACTUAL LITERAL DEVIL... Elena Gilbert reigns as the most hated character on the show by viewers.

But, why?

Elena Gilbert starts off the show as a 17 year old teenage girl who just experienced some of the craziest trauma any person, let alone TEENAGER, could ever go through. She was in the car with her parents when they died off Wickory Bridge and now suffers from a serious case of survivors guilt, a trait and mo motif she struggles with and must come to terms with throughout the show.

She falls for two vampire brothers who bring nothing but more hell into her life, she finds out she's adopted, her birth mother is a vampire and a piece of shit, her birth father is her insane negligent Uncle John, she's lost more loved ones than one can count over and over again, and she's constantly paranoid and never safe because she's a doppleganger with special blood that many dangerous supernatural creatures want.

"But she's whinyyy and a crybabyyy😩..."

As if one of her friends or family aren't on the brink of death every episode. Elena didn't do enough crying if we're being honest.

Elena is by no means a perfect, innocent character. A lot of people are right about her flaws; she can be very selfish with a what-about-me & and look-at-me-this-isn't-you complex and she's constantly getting away with a lot shit since she's the main character. And a lot people say she never faces any consequences but.... she does.... and it's called...

VAMPIRE!ELENA

THAT'S IT! That's where everyone says her character went completely wrong, her character completely falls apart. But I'd argue that Vampire!Elena is a culmination of all her descions coming back to bite her in the ass.

Throughout S1-3, Elena struggles with survivors guilt. She should've gone off the bridge with her parents. She's depressed, she's moody, she's "whiny" all while feeling like the supposed "love of her life" is trying to "fix her" when she's not ready.

In season 4 episode 10, Elena clearly states that Stefan looks at her like she's a broken toy that needs to be fixed. I could go on a whole rant on what I think Stefan's problems are but to sum it all up — Stefan turned into a vampire at 17 years old — a teenager — and spends his entire vampire life struggling with his heightened personality and his Ripper Gene which led him down a path to losing everyone he's ever loved.

(He killed his own abusive father, lost his best friend due to his own brother who he forced to turn with him and now wants him dead after a wedge is driven between them.)

I say all that to say I get Stefan's character. He's scared and insecure, similar to Elena, to be alone and lose everyone he cares about. However, all of his efforts to better himself and relationships only drives people away. People bring up Damon killing Elena's brother, Jeremy, all the time

(again.. HE WAS WEARING THE GILBERT RING! HE'S FINE! YOU DON'T ACTUALLY GIVE A FUCK ABOUT JEREMY, NOBODY DOES!)

But NOBODY talks about Stefan endangering Jeremy and almost getting him killed by forcing him to continue the Hunter's Mark because he thought Elena being human again would make her be in love with him again. (sorry but that's fucking insane😭😭😭!!)

Stefan wasn't only afraid of losing Elena, he was also afraid of losing her to his brother. All these efforts drove Elena away, right into the arms of the person he wanted to keep her away from.

I think Elena felt as if Stefan was just like everyone else who wanted "the old Elena" back. The person that Elena use to be before the accident that the show alludes to in the first season. But that Elena is dead and gone, she'll never be the same person she was before going off that bridge. Apart of her died that night and again when she went off the bridge for the second time and became a vampire.

Elena struggles with being a vampire and basically dying twice and instead of being supportive Stefan immediately wants to fix and change her. Damon is the only one she feels free and alive with. A statement Elena makes herself throughout the show. Despite the stupid discourse over the Sire Bond, Damon was the one she felt the safest with after that plotline was resolved.

But enough about comparing those brothers, this is about ELENA! You know who she gets compared to..?

KATHERINE

KATHERINE IS A LOSER!

Before you raise your pitchforks, I love Katherine. Great character, great villain, but she's a loser!

People LOVE to compare Katherine and Elena!

"Katherine's such a badass and Elena is a whiny crybaby." But I would argue the opposite.

See Katherine's backstory here, despite everything Katherine's been through, the show makes a point that while, yes, Katherine is a survivor, she's also an avoidant runner. She spends 500 years running from the big bad Klaus and once he fianlly lets her go she continues torture, manipulate, and harrass people.

She continues her streak of only whining and complaining about the life she never had because of the things that happened to her, which... fair!

However, despite being given several chances with a romance with Elijah, a life with her daughter as a mother, all the people she's ever wronged helping her and forgiving her on her death bed, taking over Elena's body and essentially starting over in a new life and even being THE QUEEN OF HELL... it was never enough. Nothing was ever enough for Katherine.

She was given many chances to change, to finally LIVE HER LIFE but she chose to continue down her path of destruction. Which, in my opinion, is fine for her character! LET KATHERINE BE THE SAD AND TRAGIC CHARACTER SHE IS! She doesn't have to be some anti-hero badass.

The contrast of Katherine and Elena, two girls who had their lives and innocence stolen from them at a young age thanks to tragic events out of their control and two vampire brothers, is great and executed as well as TVD writing could do (infamously known for shitty writing and plot holes but I digress).

The pieces to the K/E puzzle were so obviously placed, Katherine who was jealous of Elena living the life she never got, chose the path of selfishness and power, and Elena chose the path of love and regrowth and not letting her past define her.

But viewers missed the big picture. Katherine is a survivor but where did that get her? Dead and unloved. Besides freedom from Klaus, she didn't get a single thing she desired. Not a life with Stefan or Elijah or as a mother with her daughter or as Elena Gilbert or Queen of Hell! No! She lost everything and blamed Elena. SHE LOST! SHE'S A LOSER!

She survived, but she didn't live.

In my opinion, Elena is the real survivor. She didn't let her past consume and lead her to a similar fate as Katherine. She chose to be selfless and to love again after being hurt.

She chose to be alive.

SO BACK TO THE PROMPT....

Why do y'all hate emotional women?

"Elena has experienced more grief than anyone I've ever met." - Sherrif Liz Forbes

Every character has went through a lot and have done similar, if not worst, things as Elena as a result yet she's the most hated character?

There's a pattern of fans hating certain female characters who are more sensitive and cry instead of bury their feelings and just punch a man and suddenly get crowned "Most Badass Female Character". Characters, not just female, expressing their emotions is strong and badass and might inspire audiences to do the same and not keep grief in and become self destructive. It's healthy and natural and makes the character not so one note.

It's not fair to compare Elena's trauma and experiences to other characters (espically not Bonnie, that's topic for a whole other post). But why do other characters get a pass despite being ten times more flawed and problematic?

Why are certain characters able to cry, complain, self destruct, fuck someone over, etc but Elena can't?

Genunine question.. let's discuss...

-*- I wasn't able to fully delve into my thoughts on Elena and certain TVD characters, plot points, theme, etc because this post will be 50 pages long. This is the brief version.

***There will be a part 2 to this post where I delve deeper into the trend of hating characters like Elena.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Cross The Line•

Summary: “And they were roommates” predictable self induldent Denki roommate content lmao. Friends to lovers, pretty fluffy

Pairing: Denki Kaminari x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Itty bitty angst, Lots o’ tension, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (female receiving), Quirk use during sex, Cumplay.

Word count: 6,984

A/N: Y'all I did it I wrote mostly plot are y'all proud of me for not being useless and horni for one fic. I mean it gets horni at the end but there is plot so yeehaw.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Son of a bitch!” You yell as you hurl the eyeliner across the bathroom, at your wits end after messing up for the third time. It hits the door with a sharp crack before it falls to the floor.

You kick the cabinet, successfully stubbing your toe in the process.

“Shit, shit shit shit.” You tumble backwards as you hop on one foot, planting your ass right on the toilet lid with a loud groan.

“You remodeling in here?” A chirpy voice says from the other side of the door.

“Fuck off, Denki.” You bark as you hold your busted toe.

He just chuckles as he opens the door and strides in, he leans back against the counter and crosses his arms while you scowl up at him.

His signature smirk is painted across his face, yellow hair sticking up in every direction. As usual, he’s going without a shirt, leaving him in just a pair of loose basketball shorts.

They hang just a little too low, exposing the waistband of his briefs, framing his defined adonis belt…

“You’re gonna need a bucket for all that drool.” He says, raising his eyebrows as his smirk grows into a smile.

“Oh please, I was noticing how scrawny you look.” You retort, letting your foot drop to the floor so you can stand.

“You got a date?” He nods at your dress, eyes lingering at the slit that exposes just a little too much thigh.

You and Denki are just roommates, that’s it. You’re also both incredibly horny, bisexual disasters. Naturally, there’s attraction, lingering stares, and moments of tension, but it never goes past that.

Just roommates. You can’t cross that line. Kirishima had introduced you two after meeting in class one day, convinced you would hit it off. You sure as hell did. You cliqued pretty much instantly, both full of chaotic dumbass energy.

Eventually, Kirishima moved in with his boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugo. This left Denki with no roommate, which meant you got an invitation.

You were hesitant at first, moving in with somebody after a few months of friendship was a big step, but you and Denki just worked. Neither of you kept a schedule, you shared one brain cell, and you always made each other laugh.

So, of course you moved in. Two years later, it’s still you and Denki against the world. You take care of each other, he’ll bring you candy and a heating pad when you’re on your period, you’ll make him soup and play with his hair when he’s sick.

You’ve seen each other naked, heard each other have sex, and helped each other score hookups. You pick each other up when you’re sloppy drunk, and nurse each other through the hangover the next day.

You have not, and will not, cross the line of a sexual relationship with each other. You can’t afford to, neither of you can lose the movie nights, the screaming bad music in the car together, or the two in the morning waffle house runs.

“I did, but I’m not going.” You huff as you stomp over to the sink so you can wash off the makeup.

“I can’t get this stupid eyeliner right, I’ve tried like a million times and I can’t fucking do it.” You scrub your face a little too hard, turning your skin a bit red in the process.

“Want me to do it?” He asks, he says it like it’s obvious. It kind of is, the kid is wicked good at eyeliner, he does it nearly every day.

“If you pinky promise you won’t make me look stupid and sabotage my date.” You glare at him, hinting at a time when he did in fact sabotage a date.

“That was one time, which you thanked me for in the end, because the dude was a total fuckboy.” He holds up his hands in a defensive posture.

“You’re a total fuckboy, and you did not have to tell him I had fucking herpes.” You throw your wet rag at him, which he catches skillfully.

“I’m a whore, not a fuckboy. Big difference.” He says as he tosses the rag onto the side of the sink.

“What would that be?” You ask as you bend down to retrieve the eyeliner before handing it to him begrudgingly.

He accepts it with a grin, golden eyes lighting up as he pulls the cap off of the felt pen before giving it a good shake.

“Fuckboys are so selfish, they always leave someone wanting.” He shifts so he’s standing in front of you as you lean back against the counter.

He places one hand under your chin so you’ll tilt your face up for him.

“A whore keeps someone satisfied.” His voice drops slightly as he looks down at you.

You don’t look down at his lips, or his collar bones, or his abs…

“You’re such a flirt.” You say, crossing your arms, trying to put something between the two of you.

“Hell yeah I am, now close those eyes for me.” He winks and you roll your eyes before closing them.

His hand slides up from your chin so you can hold the side of your face, his thumb lifts your eyelid slightly.

The feeling of his hand touching your face so gently shouldn’t make your heart rate increase, the feeling of his breath on your face shouldn’t make your knees a little unsteady. Most of all, Denki being this close shouldn’t be making you this dizzy.

You’ve walked in on him jerking it, you’ve even walked in on him balls deep in somebody else. You and Denki are close, you’ve stood this close before, with less clothing, why does it all of a sudden feel so different? No, it doesn’t. It can’t.

You feel the felt tip of the eyeliner press into your eyelid, he moves so fluently. He flicks his wrist at the end of the line, he shifts and does the other eye with the same precision.

“Open.” You do as he says, blinking up at him, raising your eyebrows in question as he looks you over.

A pleased smile creeps onto his face.

“You’re real pretty, ya know?” He says softly, grabbing your chin gently so he can turn your face from one side to the other.

The compliment makes your cheeks grow warmer. Your eyes dart down as you shift on your feet a little bit.

“You’re a sap.” You grumble before turning to check his work in the mirror.

It’s perfect, just a delicate little wing that enhances your eye shape. Perfect for a first date, Denki has always been better at makeup, and it’s always driven you just a little insane.

“What else are you gonna do?” He asks, making eye contact with you through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You say as you grab your mascara and start applying it.

“Well are you gonna do anything with this?” He ruffles the top of your hair, you drop the mascara so you can bat his hand away.

“Dude, knock it off.” You say, you try to sound pissed, but start laughing when he wraps his arm around your neck so he can put you in a headlock.

“Only if you let me fix the rat’s nest on your head.” He laughs as you struggle to pull his arm off.

“I can do my own hair you sparky bastard.” You reach over and pinch his side.

He yelps and releases you from the hold, he raises his hands up and gives you a mischievous look.

“Oh, you want sparky?” Small snaps of electricity start to emit from his palms.

“Denki Kaminari, if you zap me I will suplex you.” You warn him, looking around for something you can grab to defend yourself with.

He’s much quicker than you though, and his arms around your waist in an instant. He hoists you up into the air and sits your ass on the counter. You feel the little shocks popping at your sides as he pushes you so your back is pressed against the mirror. Your senses are invaded by his warmth and the smell of Axe body spray, a smell you’ve grown to love.

“Denki, no! This shit always makes my hair all frizzy!” You protest as involuntary giggles leave your chest.

“Aw, sweetheart, are you sayin’ you can feel electricity between us?” He wiggles his eyebrows as his fingers stall.

“I will puke on you if you say any more cheesy shit.” You warn him, trying to keep your face straight, but you crack up at the melodramatic expression that crosses his face.

Then he delivers a particularly strong zap to the meat of your hip.

You don’t have time to control the way your body reacts. There’s no chance for you to keep your back arches, or the way you let out a fuck. The way you shiver is a little too intimate, your voice a little too broken. All of which Denki pays a little too much attention to.

You both settle and freeze, his sharp eyes meet yours. You’ve seen Denki Kaminari look serious a grand total of twice in the time you’ve known him. The first time was when you were ridiculously sick last winter, fever and chill with the works. The second time is now.

He watches you carefully, one eyebrow shooting up.

“Did that tickle?” He questions, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“It- yeah- it also fucking hurt, asshole.” You grumble, pushing at his chest so you can hop off the counter.

You try to shove past him with your head down, desperate to get out from under the weighty tension in the bathroom. Denki grabs you around the wrist though, stopping you in your tracks.

Your eyes meet as another wave of nerves washes over your body.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” His voice is steady, but tentative.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Your voice is just above a whisper.

Though, there certainly was.

You both stand there for a brief beat of thick silence, watching, waiting. You must imagine the way his lip twitches, the way his body shifts forward slightly…

No fucking way.

You turn on your heels and make your way out of the bathroom quickly.

You’re in your room with the door closed in no time. You lean against the back of it, catching the breath you didn’t realize you had lost.

What the hell was that? And why did it feel so… good?

No. Fuck no. Not with Denki.

You get ready in a huff, positively full of angst and confusion.

You shove it all down. It’s normal, right? To have a bit of tension with somebody you know so well, live so closely with, care for so deeply. You and Denki know each other. That’s all.

Your outfit isn’t much, but it’s enough for a first day. The colors are flattering against your complexion, the fabric clings in the right places. It’s nice, just nice.

You walk quietly from your room to the living room where Denki is sitting on the couch, legs spread wide with an arm across the back. Looking absolutely delicious- fuck- no not delicious. He just looks like Denki.

“That’s cute.” He says, he motions up and down with his phone, directing his comment at your outfit.

“Thanks.” You say a little too shortly, feeling the guilt immediately.

“I’ll be home later.” You say as you grab your keys from the dish.

“Be safe.” He calls after you.

Fuck.

***

Your date is an absolute disaster, nothing short of a trainwreck. It’s one of those dates that drains you. You politely nod as they ramble on about themselves, laugh at the bad and very insensitive jokes, and indulge in the small talk. Most of all, you miss Denki. You contribute very little, enjoy nothing, and wait for the end of the dreadful two hours you set aside for this.

You pay for dinner quickly, declining their offer for drinks, giving some bullshit excuse about having to work in the morning and being tired. You’re off tomorrow, and you’re wide awake.

You’re itching to get back to your apartment, dying to tell Denki all about your date’s wet cardboard personality. Hopefully, the bizarre moment you shared in the bathroom will be ignored and buried.

Never to be seen again.

You bust into the apartment, shuck off your bag and kick off your shoes. Denki is no longer on the couch, but at the kitchen table huddled over a cup of tea. The lights are all low or off, leaving him in mostly darkness. His posture is odd, slouched, defeated almost.

“Who died?” You try to joke, usually able to earn a chuckle with that line.

Denki doesn’t chuckle though, he sniffles.

“Sparky? What’s wrong?” You’re on him instantly, feet moving on their own.

Your hands are on the sides of his face, pulling up so he has to look at you. Your heart clenches and your chest burns as soon as the small amount of light catches his face.

His left cheek is painted with a deep red and purple bruise. His bright eyes search your face as you take the sight in, and you’re suddenly filled with fiery rage when you see how heartbroken he looks.

“Who the fuck-”

“It was my fault.” He cuts you off, grabbing your wrists so he can pull your hands off his face.

“Denki, what-”

“I told him we would hook up, so he thought we would. When I got there he had a bad vibe so I tried to leave… but he didn’t like that and he-”

You hush him when his breathing picks up, when you see tears well and his lip quiver.

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” You pull him against your chest, making a mental note to find and throttle the bastard that did this.

But that can wait. You and Denki had both returned from dates fairly busted up. The bruises were always one that were wanted though, never like this. A bad date was always laughed over, never cried over. The very thought of somebody laying their hands on Denki like this… it makes your skin crawl, it makes you want to kill.

His arms are around your waist immediately, hands grabbing as your clothes, pulling you closer. You hold each other for a long while until you feel his leg start bouncing and his fingers start to twitch.

You pull back and look down at him. He looks so displaced, so frantic and caught off guard. He needs something to do. Something to focus on. You can tell he’s not ready to talk, but he’s ready to be distracted, talking will come later.

“Will you help me get this shit off my face?” You ask gently, sliding your hand through his hair.

He blinks hard before wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Yeah- shit- I’m sorry, how was your date?” He asks, doing a shit job as pulling himself together.

“Don’t be sorry. It was awful. All they talked about was their college glory days.” You sigh, thumb running over his forehead.

“That didn’t win you? What’s wrong with you?” He asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.

There he is, or at least he’s trying.

“I missed you the whole time.” It slips out, runs away from you. You mean it though, god do you mean it.

He looks up at you with that same uneasy, distraught look. It almost makes you buckle. You feel pulled to fall into his lap, wrap yourself around him and press sweet kisses into his neck. You can’t, you know you can’t. He would probably be pissed if you crossed that line.

He doesn’t answer, he just nods silently, eyes falling to the ground as he stands up.

“Let’s get that shit off your face.”

You end up perched on the counter again as he wipes your makeup off with a warm cloth. It may seem backwards, him taking care of you, to most people it is. During your time together, you’ve learned that Denki feels useless if he isn’t helping.

When something is hurting him, he’s healed by pouring into someone else, so you let him. You’ll ice his bruise later, bring him water and medicine once you help him scratch this itch.

He takes his time with you, wiping away the makeup he did for you. The dull ache returns to your chest as he works. The soft glow of the bathroom nightlight is your only illumination, giving the room a painfully intimate environment.

He slowly wipes the cloth across your forehead one last time, laying it on the sink before bringing his hand up to hold your chin like he had earlier. You can’t help but glance at his bruise and simply hurt deep inside. You hate that you weren’t there, that you couldn’t stop it.

He breathes for a moment, looking at the planes of your face, eyes lingering in your lips for a bit too long.

“Pretty…” It’s a soft confession, something far too tender for the nature of your relationship.

His admittance settles somewhere deep within you, it wraps itself around your heart and warms it. It’s almost overwhelming and definitely terrifying.

“Do you need to eat?” You kill the building flames immediately, stamp them out with a stubborn foot.

He doesn’t mean it, he’s just vulnerable, he’s just emotional. You’d be an asshole to give into it.

“I could eat.” He sighs.

***

“This is so fucking stupid.” Denki laughs, irritated by the default plot line of the chick flick on tv.

You had ordered your favorite takeout, too much of it, to share as you watch. Slowly, you had pulled him out of his shaken state. With plenty of talk about your awful date, several good laughs, and the occasional soft spoken “you’re okay”. Denki is now settled with his head in your lap as he criticizes the lazy drama of the film.

“Why won’t they just stop being stupid and just… like each other?” He whines, gesturing at the tv with an inpatient hand.

“Dude they can’t. It would ruin the tension for them to like each other right now.” You explain.

He sits up and huffs before grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“But they could work. They could really work.” He says as he stuffs his face.

He seems so genuinely thoughtful, despite his grievances with the quality of the movie, he’s involved.

“Maybe they could.” You say, watching him instead of the movie.

He feels it when he looks at you, squeezing his ribs, trickling down his spine. The overwhelming, almost blind urge to lean in and kiss you. But he can’t, so he doesn’t.

“Could they?” He whispers.

You’re both frozen, trapped in the beam that’s suddenly shining down on you. It exposes every crack and corner of your relationship, leaving you both ripped open and afraid.

He’s leaning in again like he did in the bathroom, closer and closer and closer… until he grabs his damn drink.

Fuck.

A blush spreads across your cheeks, stomach aching with embarrassment. You pull back, shoving yourself under a blanket. You weren’t too obvious, right? You didn’t lean in too much… right?

He takes a long sip then sets the drink down harshly, not enough to make you jump, but enough to make you pay attention.

“Can we stop, please?” He says as he stands up, he runs his hands through his hair and huffs before he starts to pace.

“What?” You ask, trying to sound as oblivious as possible.

“Dude.” He turns on you, looking exhausted, eyes begging you for something.

“Denki- I, you need sleep…” You stand up and start to tidy, not really doing anything though. Just picking up cups and setting them down to look busy.

“I don’t need sleep.” He snaps before grabbing you by the shoulders. His eyes are wild, frantic, searching.

“What do you need?” You ask, hands shaking at your sides. His body sags, hands releasing you so he can hug himself.

“I don’t know.” It’s short and rushed, and he leaves you no time to respond before he storms off to his bedroom. His feet stomp, the door slams, and you fall to the couch in a heap.

This cannot be happening, not to you and Denki. You both just need sleep, you just need to brush it off and start again tomorrow. He’s emotional. He’s just emotional.

You turn the TV off, sneering at the couple kissing on it. You clean up slowly, setting dishes in the sink to be done tomorrow.

It’s ok. You’re ok. Emotions run high after bad dates, after traumatic events. It’s human nature. That’s all, you and Denki will be ok, you always are.

Your shoulders draw up when you hear his door open again, staying busy at the sink as you heard him walk into the kitchen.

“Can we talk about it?” His voice is unsteady, it tugs on your heart as you spin to face him.

“Talk about wha-”

“Please. Don’t.” He sighs as he steps towards you.

He’s too damn pretty when he’s tired. His cheeks get all pink, with glassy eyes and a shiny nose. Even with his busted cheek bone, he’s so… pretty.

Denki’s feelings have always run hot, he loves fast and hurts deeply. You can’t even begin to imagine the tsunami of emotion he must have pounding against his chest. You see it in his eyes though, something is breaking him.

“We could work.” He closes the distance between you even more, giving you no room to hide once your backside hits the counter.

“Denki…” You put your hands on his chest, trying to put something between you two, trying to cling to the line that’s been drawn.

“We could. Just- you don’t have to answer. Just think about it.” And then he’s gone again, away to hide in his room. Leaving you shocked and overwhelmed.

We could work.

You could, and you know it, you’re just not ready to accept it.

***

Sleep doesn’t come well, or even at all. You do think about it, all night. It’s the only thing on your mind as you toss and turn and huff. The sun is already peaking up into the sky, bathing your room in a hazy glow.

We could work.

Just because you could, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be foolish of you to try. This is a friendship neither of you can afford to lose. You have some confidence that it could indeed withstand an awkward attempt at a relationship… but what if the attempt wasn’t awkward? Denki had told you, drunkenly, how much he loved you. He slept next to you when you cried, held you and talked you down. He knew how many sugars to put in your coffee and how you never bothered to match your socks.

Over time, Denki had memorized you as a person, and you had done the same for him. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to have in a partner? Someone who knows you, someone who makes it safe to be known.

Knock knock

It’s a courtesy knock, something he does to let you know he’s coming in. You never keep your door locked, and he’s always allowed in.

“Mornin’.” He says with a scratchy voice as he peaks into your room.

Fucking hell. Why does he have to be so pretty all the time?

“Mornin’.” You reply

You pull the blankets up around your chest, you realize now you’re in one of his t-shirts, not uncommon, but entirely too intimate given recent events.

He sits on the edge of your bed, all messy hair and puffy eyes. He offers you one of the coffee cups he’s holding, and it smells divine. You accept it as you sit up right, crossing your legs and clinging to your blankets.

His bruise is darker, yellow around the edges with deep red and purple splotches. It gives your chest the same tight feeling, something helpless and angry.

“I’m sorry, I was out of line.” He says quietly.

“You were right, I was emotional and I needed sleep and I definitely shouldn’t have dumped it on you.”

He fidgets while he talks, leg bouncing as his fingers dance around his mug. You reach out to rub his back, but he flinches. He fucking flinches.

Neither of you speak, but you meet each other’s eyes. He looks sorry, so sorry. He looks embarrassed and scared and guilty.

Slowly, you grab both cups and set them on your nightstand. You open your arms to him, still not speaking, not opening the door for him to apologise for something that isn’t his fault.

He falls into you easily, arms around your waist with his face against your neck. He crumbles there, unable to articulate, only able to cry. You hold him close, rub circles in his back and play with his hair. You let him go as long as he needs to, sitting with him, hurting with him.

“Denki?” You tread carefully, using your softest voice.

He looks up then, with a rosey face and searching eyes.

“You’re safe here. You’re safe with me.”

Something you’ve never seen before flashes in his eyes, something soft and warm, something that makes you want to fall forward into him like he just did with you.

You don’t, though, you stay still.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

Then, with all the caution and care in the world, he places a kiss on your forehead. It’s so simple, it’s been done a million times between the two of you, but it sits differently in your chest this time. It stays there, taking up space, spreading through you. That feeling of wanting to cross a line.

“Do you want to make breakfast?” He asks as he wipes at his face with his sleeves.

“Of course. You want those big ass waffles I make?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood.

His grin is slow to appear, but it does appear, and it’s as dazzling as always.

“I always want some big ass waffles.”

***

The rest of the day is spent in close proximity with each other, not unusual, but like everything else the past twenty four hours, it feels different.

You share you sit with knees touching while you eat your waffles, pee with the door open, he puts the toothpaste on your toothbrush for you. It’s all so normal for you two, but god it feels so different. It feels more important, it feels more… wholesome? Maybe? Not quite, that word isn’t entirely applicable. Neither you to Denki are wholesome in any capacity. Then a horrible thought scrambles into your mind.

It feels romantic. It feels domestic. It feels like a relationship.

It hits you while you’re helping him clean up the mess you’ve made cooking dinner. It’s in the way his hand ghosts over your waist when he slides behind you, the way he gets you more to eat without asking him to, the way makes you laugh so naturally.

Fuck.

You love him, you know this as a fact. You love him more than anyone, he knows you inside and out and you know him. You’re just now realizing in exactly what way you love him. He holds your hair when you puke, he rubs your back when you cramp, he pretends to be your boyfriend to scare off bad dates. He loves you too.

“Denki.” Your voice is quiet, your hands shake.

“Can we talk about it?”

His whole body tenses as he sets down the plate he was rinsing. He turns slowly, as if to avoid frightening you.

“Can we?” He asks gently, hopefully.

You step towards him, twisting your fingers around each other anxiously.

“This… works, doesn’t it?” You ask, awkwardly gesturing between the two of you.

He closes more of the distance, standing only inches from you.

“It does, and it could.” He says gently.

“What If it doesn’t?” You wonder out loud, fear creeping up your spine.

“Then it doesn’t.” He says simply.

“And we’ll be ok?”

“We’ll be ok.”

You stand in silence, keeping an eye on each other as you both process the information. He does that leaning thing again, like he wants to be closer. Then you panic.

“But it would be stupid.” You say as you turn away, wringing your hands around each other while you pace. He lets out a sigh and throws his hands up, exhausted with the back and forth.

“Right, because you and I would never do anything stupid.” His voice is rough, impatient, unfamiliar.

“We can’t afford to be stupid with this, dude. Can’t you see that?” You argue.

“Then we can be careful with it, we can start slow, we can ease into it.” He’s nearly begging, stepping towards you again.

“Ease into what!?” You turn on him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t play dumb.” He crosses his arms, you mirror him, both skittish, both afraid.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and we won’t talk about it ever again. You have my word.” He offers, but he doesn’t want to.

You stand there, weighing your options, chest seizing as you watch his vibrant eyes search your face.

You can’t tell him you don’t want it. You can’t lie to him.

“I- Denki… I can’t lose you. We can’t fuck this up.” You feel tears prick at your eyes and a tightness in your throat, the very idea of being without your best friend makes you panic.

“You won’t fucking lose me. You have me, all of me. We won’t fuck this up if we just keep doing what we do.” He tries to keep his voice calm, but he breaks a little.

Another moment of heavy silence is spent between you, chests rising and falling rapidly, hands twitching as minds race.

Denying this any longer would be a crime, a horrible waste of time. Something snaps then, something gives in, and the line is crossed.

His hands are at the side of your face and his forehead falls against yours. Breath is hot, hands are needy, hearts are aching.

“Please, god, please.” You grab at his wrists, not to push him off, to pull him in, keep him close.

“I want you, need you, please.” You confess.

And then your soul is in flames. He shudders and his lips are on yours as soon as he can get them there. All at once, and not soon enough, the line you had both been clinging to is crossed. His hands hold your face so tightly as he works his lips against yours, kissing you with all he has left, letting loose all the times he’s wanted to before. It’s all consuming, it’s mind numbing, it’s (no pun intended) fucking electric.

He walks you back as he kisses you urgently until your ass hits the counter, his hands are on the backs of your thighs instantly. He whispers a quick jump against your lips. You do exactly that.

Now seated on the counter, you spread your legs so he can settle between them. He slides in perfectly, lips still hot and greedy against your own. His hands cling to your hips while yours claw at his back.

He breaks from you, panting with his pupils blown wide.

“Can we do something stupid?” He asks between puffs of air.

“Please, Denki, please.” You sigh, grabbing at his shirt. He grabs it by the collar and rips it off, revealing the body you’ve seen so often, but now you get to know it.

“I wanna taste your pussy.” He whispers before pressing his open mouth against your neck.

The words send a shock all the way down your body. The sparks fly and then settle between your legs where you feel his hard length pressing against your heat.

“Haven’t shaved.” You say, slightly embarrassed.

“Like I fucking care.” And then his hands are at your clothes, pulling them off and throwing them away until you’re left completely bare for him.

His skin feels like heaven against yours, warm and dewy and right.

“Gonna make you feel so good, fuck.” The last word is said with a tone of disbelief.

His hands slide up your sides, gathering your breasts so he can tease your nipples with his thumbs.

He smirks against your neck when you gasp and arch against him, pushing your bodies even closer together.

“Sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” He taunts.

“You’re talking too much.” You let out a breathy laugh at his teasing before planting your hand on top of his head and pushing him down.

He gladly falls to his knees, he throws one of your legs over his shoulder like it’s life or death before finally looking at your soaked center.

“Oh my fucking god.” He sighs.

“I wanna tease you but holy hell, I gotta-” He’s on you before you can brace at all, his tongue licks along your slit slowly, almost reverently.

And then he moans. It’s something whiney, something achey, escaping from the back of his throat.

He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t pull away, he finds the spot that makes you jump and sets up camp. He kitten licks your clit until your hands are pulling at his hair as you gasp above him.

It’s all so much, it’s all so good. Especially when he finally presses two fingers into you. He steps a gentle pace, a soothing push and pull that feels incredible. He works and works and works until your thighs are trembling and you’re babbling praises.

“Denki- fuck- there, right there, fuck fuck fuck.” He eats you so sweetly, with so much precision.

You almost anticipated him being more reckless, more sloppy. He isn’t though, he takes his time, learning your sweet spots, finding the angle that makes you crumble.

And he does.

You reach your end when he flattens his tongue and curls his fingers, massaging every part of you. His name falls from your lips in a broken cry, hands tug at his hair as your thighs squeeze his head.

He helps you through it, licking and fingering slowly to ease you back down, letting you feel every last nerve erupt in pleasure.

“Fuck that was perfect, you’re so fucking sweet.” He sighs against you.

You don’t answer, you can’t, you just grab at him until he gets the hint to stand up.

“Need you inside me, please, Denki please.”

“That’s funny.” He says thoughtfully, pulling down his sweats and briefs to reveal his very hard, very pretty dick.

“What?” You ask, breathless as he steps between your legs. He grabs at his length and gives it a few lazy strokes before pressing his head up against your cunt. The action makes you shiver and dig your nails into his shoulder.

“Didn’t think you were one to beg.” He says with a trembling voice, body buzzing with anticipation.

Then he presses in, replacing any smart remark you may have had with a gasp. It’s definitely a stretch, but god it’s incredible. He fills you so well, presses all of the right spots as he slides in.

“Denki- shit.” Your head falls back against the cabinet, your brain turns to mush as you try to fully comprehend how you ended up here, most of all how you went so long without this.

“So fucking tight.” He pants as he bottoms out, his praise makes you clench, which in turn makes his head fall back with a sweet little gasp.

He pulls in a sharp breath through his teeth, his top lip pulls up almost like he’s in pain. You know he isn’t though, he’s just savoring it.

With a frantic hand, you reach up and grab at the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull him back down against you, both moaning into the kiss when he moves his hips back slowly.

Your lips are messy against each other, bodies working together, finally colliding the way they’re meant to. He keeps his hips moving, setting a perfect, smooth pace. His hands settle on your hips as your stay in his hair.

You’re more vocal than usual, moaning out little praises, needing more and begging for it.

“You feel so good, don’t stop, baby- feels so fucking good.” Your lips quiver as you speak, making you sound so weak and needy. That mixed with the affectionate name does something to Denki, something that names him break a little more.

He buries his face into your neck, whispering a harsh fuck that sounds strangled and desperate. His thrusts get a little faster, his hands grab you a little tighter, and all you feel is Denki.

Your whole body buzzes, in your fingertips, the backs of your thighs, you feel him everywhere.

You don’t even consider the mess that you’ll make on the counter, don’t mind the bruises he’ll leave on your hips, it’s all worth it. So fucking worth it.

“Look at me, look at me when I make you cum.” One of his hands comes up to hold your face as he speaks frantically.

His words set off a cloud of butterflies in your stomach, every sensation building, becoming more intense. You nod pitifully as you lean into his hand, chasing your high with each of his deep, filling thrusts.

The feeling of his hand on your hip reminds you of the last time he had you sitting on a counter like this. You remember how he shocked you, how it went straight to your cunt, how much you loved the feeling.

Body jolting with each thrust, your hand falls over his on your hip. You give him one look, and his eyebrows shoot sky high.

“Yeah? You want me to shock you?” His voice climbs as he speaks, so high and pretty and needy.

“Yes, fuck yes, please, Denki.” You plead, you’re so damn close, you just need that final push.

He doesn’t waste any time. As soon as you ask so sweetly, his palm starts to spark, biting at your skin. You cry out and throw your head forward, the electricity drives you up a wall, absolutely hooked on the sensation.

“That’s it, cum nice and hard for me sweetheart.” His other hand moves down to thumb at your clit and that’s all it takes.

“I’m gonna- ohmyfuckinggod- Denki! Shit!” You sob against his skin as he zaps you just a little more. It makes you delirious, you shiver and jolt as your hands claw down his back.

He fucks you through it, moans and praises fall from his lips as you crest. Your walls quiver around him, almost finishing him off too. Somehow, he keeps it together, he holds his pace until he’s sure you’re on your way back down.

“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He coos as his thrust become more shallow, “Oh fuck.”

He pulls out and jacks himself off only a few times before he’s spilling onto your thigh, painting the skin hot white ropes.

Your hand darts down to gather his release on your fingers before bringing it to your lips. You make a show of licking it up, popping your fingers from your mouth as your eyes flutter shut.

“Oh you dirty fuckin’ girl.” He muses, he gathers the rest up with his thumb so he can press it into your mouth.

You swirl your tongue around his thumb, looking up at him with a doe eyed expression.

You never dreamed you two would ever end up here, feeling and tasting each other in the filthiest of ways, but god it feels so right.

You stay there for just a moment, clinging to the high and each other, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As your breathing steadies, his hands are placed gently around your waist, thumbs playing at the bottom of your ribs.

You share a moment of silence, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Wanna talk about it?” Denki asks, a smile playing at his lips. You let out a breathy laugh, head falling forward so you can lean your forehead against his collar bone.

You start to press soft kisses across his chest, he hand slides to play with the hair at the back of your head.

“I don’t think we have to.” You kiss up his chest until you’re looking up at him.

“This works, doesn’t it?” He asks fondly, looking as stunning as ever, bruise and all.

“This works.” You confirm.

With that, he ducks down suddenly, arms sliding around you so he can throw you over his shoulder.

“Denki! What the hell?” You laugh, pounding at his back playfully.

“If we aren’t talkin’ we’re fuckin’. This isn’t a one and done deal baby.” He says as you round the corner to your bedroom, he throws you on the bed so you land with a bounce and a giggle.

“I hope you don’t have plans for the next six hours.” He falls into you, kissing all over your neck and collarbones.

“Hey.” You say quietly.

“Hmm.” He responds between kisses.

“I love you, sparky.”

He pauses, looking up at you with his luminant eyes.

“I know.” His face splits into a teasing grin.

You punch his shoulder, pouting dramatically.

He inches up the bed, caging you with his arms so he can cradle your head with his hands. He looks at you thoughtfully for just a moment before leaning down to kiss you.

It’s gentle and careful this time, slow and thought out. It makes you absolutely melt.

“I love you too.” He whispers against your lips.

It does work, it works beautifully. It was a slow and not so steady road, but you two knuckleheads did it. You crossed that damn line.

[hes-writer]

deja vu

Summary: part two of drivers license!

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1643 words

let me know if you liked it!

_____

If this was a movie, Y/N would’ve collapsed on the floor, knees hitting the ground as her legs lost the ability to keep her weight up. The corners of her lips would tilt downwards as a fusion of sadness and nostalgia bombarded her at every corner. Tears would collect at her waterline, waiting for the remarkable blink that would send each drop of salty liquid down the apples of her cheeks. Y/N imagined she would call Harry on her phone and scream at him as soon as the click sounded, signalling that he had picked up the call.

Yet as seconds passed by, none of those theatrical episodes happened.  Unlike in the movies, Y/N’s physical reactions were minuscule. Her heart ached in her chest. Her throat scrunched like a wad of tissue papers in her hand, drying up with shock and the shallow inhales she let out.  The swirling of her stomach increased tenfold as she teetered between feelings of anger and indifference.  This should not affect her anymore--or should it? It had barely been a few months since she last saw him and a little bit after when the first photos of Harry and his girlfriend went viral on the internet.

Everyone, especially him, seemed to move on from the relationship that they had shared.  Y/N felt like she needed to catch up to him, racing to throw away the feelings she still held for him and to pretend as though nothing happened.  But it was easier said than done.  There were still endless memories that replayed through her head every time she passed by an ice cream shop.  It was a hidden gem, past the popular hot spots.  Not a lot of people knew about it because of its distanced location.  And as much as Harry was a certified health nut; his guilty pleasure was a scoop of strawberry ice cream--in a cup instead of a waffle cone, of course.

Y/N still remembered those drives-turned-beach-trips.  It was mostly during his days off.  She and Harry would spend the whole day together, sharing one spoon amongst each other while they passed the cup of ice cream back and forth. The sound of the ocean encompassed them as they lay hidden around an alcove of rocks. It was a secluded area of the beach that Y/N had found way before.  The sand was grainy beneath the layer of a checkered picnic blanket that Harry kept at the trunk of his car, their bodies laying on top of it.  Eventually, Harry would proceed to just spoon-feed her, ‘accidentally’ nudging her nose with the cold treat.

.

.

.

.

Y/N could feel her shoulders slump at the flashback, body sagging as she sighed at what her phone screen was reflecting back to her.  It was her Instagram feed showcasing Harry’s profile. A picture of a haunting landscape was captured by his phone lens; it was the very same beach spot that she had taken him to.  Deja vu.

She bit her lip, wanting to smile about how he still visited it even without her.  It showed that Harry still kept a memory of her at the back of his mind.  Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, a sliver of hope shining through the dimness of her days. But it was impossible to keep an optimistic stance when she saw the caption.  A simple tag of his new girlfriend’s Instagram handle puckered her lips into a sour expression, brows pinching together in curiosity as Y/N continuously denied the obvious constituent of events.

“There’s no way,” She muttered, breath hitching as Y/N’s thumb hesitated on tapping the bolded font.

There was absolutely no way that Harry would bring someone else in such a coveted spot.  It was hers; she found it first and now he was acting as though it did not hold any meaning to her.  Not like Y/N didn’t spend the last few days laying on his lap, watching the sunset over the horizon. Harry’s fingers would comb through her tendrils, tucking his jacket tighter around her chin to ensure that she was warm despite him being covered in goosebumps himself. Y/N would look up to see the beginning stubbles of his facial hair as Harry looked ahead, his green eyes mirroring the artistic hues of orange, pink and purple.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Jenny asked, returning from her short trek to Y/N’s small kitchen. One hand was carrying a large bowl of chips while the other held two cans of soda.

Y/N stared at her friend with hesitance.  Was it worth bringing it up? She must be sick of her talking about him all the time.

“He brought her to our place,”

It was harder to hear it out loud.  She didn’t even recognize her own voice; void of emotion except for a strained sound of pain.

Jenny tilted her head to the side, “Who did?”

“Harry. . .” Y/N cleared her throat before continuing, “There was this place I found in Malibu. At a beach.  It’s pretty hidden and I used to go there by myself whenever I needed to think. I took him there.  It was our place, you know? Somewhere only the two of us knew and I don’t know,” She trailed off.

“You thought he would keep it between you guys,” Jenny finished off, nodding her head in empathic comprehension.

“Yeah, it just sucks,” Y/N furrowed her brows, staring at the space in front of her as she took in the gravity of the situation. “He even took her to D’Campos,”

“The ice-cream shop?”

She nodded, “It was on her Instagram story today,”

“Forget about him, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your tears,”

“I’m not even crying,” She chuckled, slapping Jenny’s arm jokingly.

“You look like you’re about to,”

Y/N sighed, “It hurts.  Feels like he’s everywhere.  Just when I thought I was moving on, he pulls shit like this and I’m forced to remember how good it was between us, you know? I haven’t driven past D’Campos or anywhere else that I might see him because it hurts too much to reminisce what I don’t have anymore.”

It was ridiculous how much Y/N has had to change her routine in order not to feel any more pain.  She actively avoided places where Harry frequented in fear of confrontation and also because he might be with his girlfriend.  She didn’t know how she could stay stoic seeing their hands clasped together, gazing at each other lovingly when Y/N wanted that from him for herself.

“You’re doing just fine, honey.  Do you know who can’t move on? Him.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s doing fine,” Y/N said sarcastically, resting her back on the couch. “Better, even.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Jenny argued, “Out of the two of you, who’s the one always going to the places you shared?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but a swift hand in the air caused her to halt.

“It’s him, right?” Jenny answered rhetorically.  “I do not care what you say; that man misses you and it shows.  Harry’s going to where he expects you to be, probably in hopes of running into you. Maybe even because he wants to relive the moments you shared together with her in hopes of him feeling the same way he felt like when he did with you,”

“T-that’s insane. He’s fine without me,” Y/N stuttered out, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

“First of all, you are in denial. Secondly, you cannot tell me that he doesn’t. He’s practically doing everything you guys used to do with this new girl.  Why? Because he fucking misses you, Y/N.  Hell, you’ve even got the same name.”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“My ass,” Jenny scoffs, “Answer me something, do you still remember how it felt being there with him?”

Y/N nodded, “Always,”

“Describe it to me,”

Y/N squinted her eyes in suspicion. Where was Jenny going with this?

“Uh, as cheesy as it sounds, I felt happy and free. I could talk about anything without being judged.  He had a way of making me feel comfortable without even saying anything.  When we were together--wherever we were--I could be vulnerable about myself in front of him,”

“Would you do whatever it takes to feel that same way again?”

In a heartbeat, Y/N stated, “Without a doubt.”

“Tell me, if Harry asked you to meet him there right now, would you go?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a moment to process the question. She had just said that she would do whatever it takes to feel the same unconfined emotion again.  So why was she saying ‘no’?

“I-I wouldn’t,”

“Exactly,” Jenny concluded with a quirk of her brow.

“You’re gonna have to explain,”

“Gladly,” Her friend quipped. “You want to feel liberated, vulnerable, and honest again but not necessarily with Harry.  That place meant a lot to you--sure.  But it doesn’t matter.  What counts is who you are with.  Who’s giving you that type of comfortability that you’re able to be just yourself around them. Do you understand?”

Y/N leaned forward in interest.

“You are well aware of that but you won’t accept it. You won’t go with him because you know that it won’t be the same anymore. That’s the first step of moving on.  Once you acknowledge that as much as you miss him, as much as you think you want him to be around, you know better than that. He’s changed and so have you.  He’s searching for that same feeling by going back to the places that you used to go to.  Thinks he will find it there but--,”

“He won’t.” Y/N finished off. “Because she is not me,”

___

[naomana]

i'm back with another one: just learnt that in just for relaxation vincenzo tells tommy about norman, "our guys on the force say there's a new detective come in - name of norman. untouchable, they think - not taking green from anyone. but everyone's got their price, even if it's the price of a bullet." now i love this because i'm pretty sure vinnie's use of the word green there, refers to the slang of calling someone 'inexperienced' so norman was as uptight as ever and i love him for it.

but also this reminded me of a thought i've been having for a wee while now, where, honestly norman must be a pretty good detective. IGNORING the fact it took him three years to figure out who killed morello (and even that was by pure chance, only because norman was such a suck up, word got round about him). but like really, have i got it all wrong, can you give any ole detective in your ranks the task of figuring out who killed a mob boss? i personally feel like you couldn't, that's a job you'd hand down to one of your most experienced and trusted detectives. like norman's really prideful, morello's case must've driven him a little bit insane because he wants to keep his good name. i feel like he would be really proud of himself for making it this far, being given a job like this. but also referring back to how i said norman must be a pretty good detective - norman is also really stupid too, like seriously, some stupid, low life mobster or something like that called him inexperienced and now look norman all the mobsters know about you dumbass. honestly how did he not die as soon as they saw how bitchy he was? or did everyone just think he wouldn't be a threat because of how bitchy he was? and because they thought he was inexperienced. backtrack, how did they know norman was a detective? did he do an awful job keeping himself inconspicuous? was he being spied on? did salieri ever know about him if vinnie and co knew about him? and if salieri did know about him either before or after the ratting did he put a hit on him in 1951 as well?

im sorry i hope you like novels im going insane

I think in this case, the way he said it, he meant Norman is someone you can't bribe

Green=money, even "Everyone has a price, even if it's a price of bullet".. basically everyone can be bribed, with either money or death.. becasue..ya know..dead people don't tend to go against you lol

But yeah, Norman is 100% inexperienced and uptight ass when he comes to LH..like..he has experience in police force ofc, but has no idea how things work at LH

You're right in Norman being good at what he does, I mean within a reason. You'd give such an important job to someone who's not gonna completely blow it or get bribed in middle of it

And when it comes to Vinnie knowing about him, Norman is such a prideful prick I can imagine him getting one of Salieri's (and Morello's) guys arrested just so he could "Send message through them to their bosses" that there's new cop in town and he means business

Or second option, both are super realistic btw, Salieri and Morello had their people in police force ( well we know Morello did have some cops under his thumb) and the information of new cop that couldn't be bought was what the two of them wamted to know, so they could take different approach

[wisteria-lodge]

hamlet’s problem isn’t indecision, or cowardice. it’s GASLIGHTING

Like, Hamlet knows that Claudius is bad news even before the Ghost. After that conversation he is motivated and good to go. 

But what we get after that... is scene. after scene. after scene. of people saying “yeah, that Hamlet. Crazy.” 

Polonius thinks love has driven him crazy. Gertrude thinks grief has driven him crazy. Rosencranz & Guildenstern think he’s stir-crazy. Even Ophelia is frightened by him. Claudius actually doesn’t think he’s crazy (“what he spake, though it lacked form a little / Was not like madness”) but he’s the king... and is giving platforms to everybody else. He’s delighted to call Hamlet crazy, and discuss his craziness with other people. Of course he is. Hamlet’s his main political rival, he wants to discredit him. 

And then, when Hamlet’s alone on stage... you can tell he’s starting to internalize this. His self-talk is not great. 

Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, And fall a-cursing, like a very drab

He’s calling himself a whore here (or a ”drab,” which, same thing.) Hamlet talks about whores a lot, and the part he focuses in on is that whores are untrustworthy. A whore, from Hamlet’s perspective, is someone who pretends to love you and doesn’t. So calling himself a whore means that he finds himself inherently untrustworthy.

The spirit that I have seen May be the devil: and the devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such spirits

He was so sure the ghost was his father, and now he’s just... not. Because of his “weakness” and his “melancholy” (ie depression.) Hamlet is starting to worry that he might be crazy. 

That’s why he sets up the play-within-a-play as a psychological trap for Claudius. He’s trying to get concrete outside evidence because he fundamentally doesn’t trust himself. 

But he does trust Horatio, and just falls around Horatio’s neck, elaborately thanking him for being so dependable and so unshakable. He wants Horatio to watch Claudius during the play: 

Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt Do not itself unkennel in one speech, It is a damned ghost that we have seen, And my imaginations are as foul As Vulcan's stithy.

He trusts Horatio, and he doesn’t trust himself. He needs Horatio to tell him if he’s insane or not. And right after Horatio confirms Hamlet’s version of reality, stuff just starts happening. 

[szivtalan]

otp questions for endhawks.........will u kick me if i'm greedy and say ALL OF THE NUMBERS

I WILL NOT but this might take a while tho!!!!

1. Who is the most affectionate?

hawks is more physically affectionate - he'll link their arms together, cuddle to enji's side in public, climb in his lap when they're home, hold his hand, initiate kisses more. but it's enji that people notice sending fond looks for his boyfriend so many times it becomes embarrassing - tabloids will have a whole article on endeavor's "heart eyes" ("my eyes are not hearts" enji frowns at the magazine in hawks' hands, who just shrugs and grins "seems like they are for me") so i would say, deep down the big man's a softie too

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

enji/hawks. unless enji has a nightmare, because in that case, hawks is more than happy to be his lil jetpack.

3. Most common argument?

ah they fight about the most useless things but one of my favorites that must come up often is enji thinking that hawks deserves better than him, and hawks insisting that he's everything he ever wanted.

4. Favorite non-sexual activity?

kicking villain ass and family dinners. hawks likes to eat, and enji likes to eat with his loved ones all in one place. he wonders why hawks gets along so well with his children, and then he realizes - he forgot (again) how insanely young hawks is, and that he's merely a few years older than his youngest son, too. ngl natsuo glares daggers at his old man for having a boyfriend half his age ahahaha

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

given that enji could swing hawks around like a yo-yo, i think it's him ADJGSGH

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

hawks likes everything about enji. he's really into his body, but also his dry sarcasm, his occasional goofy jokes, and most of all, his heart. hawks will watch enji kneel down to a couple of children at a battlefield, his own face and hands dripping with blood, grunt out "are you alright, kiddos? come here, i'll get you somewhere safe" and see him do exactly that, scoop the kids up in his arms and carry them on shaking legs that could barely keep himself up, and then he will see him let his eldest burn the world, his second eldest scream at his face, his youngest treat him like dirt and know that he still cares so deeply for them, know that he loves them and wants the best for them and if the best is torment their father until he dies or worse, he'll let them without so much as a complaint.

enji, on the other hand, loves how easily hawks can lift the mood. he's learned to see through facades, and he'll call him out if he senses that it's hurting hawks to put on a mask, but hawks joking around and mouthing off makes our atlas feel like the weight of the world is a little lighter that day. he loves him for how driven he is, how graceful and hard-working and focused he seems in a fight, and thinks about how those traits were most important to him in the past but now he can see hawks use them to create a world where they can rest, and he realizes... that's not so bad an idea after all.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

enji speeds up the process of divorcing his wife lol. also he becomes more nervous around hawks, because shit, he likes him too, but he shouldn't be liked, why does hawks even like him? when hawks learns that enji likes him too, he gets shamelessly flirty. he doesn't make a move, of course - enji is still a married man, but he'll laugh at his nervousness, play with his own hair for enji's viewing pleasure and send suggestive winks his way like the damn tease he is.

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

enji calling hawks birdie is pretty obvious. hawks alternates every petname imaginable for enji when he learns that he's never been called one (he figures it out when he jokingly calls him darling once and enji blushes to the roots of his hair), his favorite is "sweetheart" and "baby". enji also calls hawks his angel, but only when he's being very soft for him

9. Who worries the most?

i mean..... both? enji tends to worry more for hawks' safety and hawks worries more for the crushing guilt enji lives with.

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

hawks - claims he does, but the truth is, he says a different thing each time and enji's happy to try new things as long as hawks will beam at him proudly after ordering

11. Who tops?

depends. they both do. enji topped more at the beginning because hawks was really into it and he was kinda insecure about asking for anything else, but hawks once offered and found out that he has a delicious bottom bitch on his hands.

12. Who initiates kisses?

hawks. height difference doesn't really matter when you have wings to fly up to your boyfriend's face and kiss him stupid

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

enji does. he wants to feel that hawks is by his side all the time, safe and sound.

14. Who kisses the hardest?

again, enji. his kisses get desperate, his hands rough. his temperature goes up despite his will and he just wants hawks to melt against him

15. Who wakes up first?

enji does! he's used to working out in the early morning before going to work

16. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

hawks does!! deep down he's still a rebellious lazy teen and whenever he has a day off, he likes to sleep until 12. he swears he considers breaking up with enji the first time the man wakes him up at 6 to ask if he wants to come work out with him

17. Who says I love you first?

surprisingly, enji does. hawks is way too protective of his own feelings to let them flow out so soon, but enji is desperate, he wants hawks by his side for ever, and the first time he says it is the first time he realizes it's true. they're out eating dinner one day, and enji watches hawks chew around the food in his mouth, downing chicken like his life depended on it, and he watches the last rays of sunlight hit his golden hair, his golden eye, paint his wings blood red, and he knows he hasn't seen anything more perfect than that sight. he tells him he loves him, and hawks laughs so much he almost chokes on food. "pretty fucked up to tell me that while i'm deepthroating yakitori" he tells him, giggling

18. Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

hawks!!! it usually says cheesy things like "good luck at work, endeavor-san!" or "don't forget to eat ur vegetables!" when there are zero vegetables in the lunches hawks packs for him

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

i mean hawks doesn't have much connection to his family, or has many friends, but enji is kind of pressed to tell his family all about his relationship since, you know. the news would reach them sooner or later anyway

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

mirko is THRILLED that hawks is dating endeavor. the todoroki family, i mean.... shoto is confused, natsuo is mad, fuyumi and rei are both supportive and say they both want the best for enji. but mostly they just all think that he's really. Really young lol

21. Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

hawks!!! he likes to dance around the kitchen while enji is cooking or doing the dishes, and sometimes manages to seduce enji into his arms too.

22. Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

hawks is a better cook, but he never tells enji about that. he just lets him suffer and teach himself how to cook because it's so much fun

23. Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

hawks, but he says nothing he would ever say can beat enji calling him his angel. that's the cheesiest it can get, and it's also only because of his wings, like shut up enji omg that's so embarrassing

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

hawks gets bored on important meetings. then he looks over to enji in a suit and gets horny. one of his favorite hobbies is watching enji squirm and struggle to keep it together after he's stroked his thigh under the table and whispered filth in his ear

25. Who needs more assurance?

enji does. he really, honestly thinks he doesn't deserve the love hawks has for him.

26. What would be their theme song?

my dude every song on ur playlist could be but this one in particular takes the cake for real

27. Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

in an au where enji's kids are still kids instead of grown adults, hawks would definitely read to them (sometimes legit tales, sometimes just colored-up and censored versions of their dad's missions) and cuddle them to sleep while he hums to them softly. in a non-au, enji catches him with shoto sleeping all wrapped up in his arms and wings, right after comforting him when he had a nightmare, trying to keep awake but slowly dozing off holding enji's youngest, most precious son, and enji kind of falls in love a lot more.

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

text, call, videochat. hawks makes a show of wearing some of enji's clothes, but really, you can't keep these assholes away from each other.

29. one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

enji will never think he deserves to have hawks by his side

30. one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

hawks will never grow tired of showing enji how much he deserves him.

[littleoddwriter]

Don’t You Die on Me | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

"I was wondering if I could get 18 & 19 with Roman Sionis? Male reader comes across a deal going bad (could be a roman deal or some random person, guns get pulled) they try to diffuse the situation, chaos ensues, someone who works with Rom finds them and rushes them to a personal doctor or hospital, and Roman and reader have an angsty moment, make up, soft ending?" anon

A/N: I really hope this is to your liking, anon! Thanks for the request!

summary; You witness one of Roman’s meetings go badly and try to de-escalate, which had the opposite effect and got you a bullet wound in your abdomen. 

notes; TW // Hospital; Violence; Bullet/Gunshot Wound; Injury; Flesh Wound; Implied Murder; No graphic depictions of anything, though. Male!Reader; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Love Confessions; Anxiety.

Despite knowing that Roman didn't want you downstairs at the club when he was having a meeting, you went anyway. Not because you wanted to disobey him necessarily, but because you needed to ask him something that couldn't wait until he was done. You tried texting Zsasz about it, but since he took watching over Roman so seriously, he didn't see it. So you decided to come down.

When you've reached the club's backstage, you could already hear raised, strained voices and Roman's signature tone of 'If you say one more thing that I don't like, I will blow your brains out'.

Even though your instincts told you to turn on your heels and wait till it was all over, you continued on, until you've almost reached the booth they sat in.

You came closer, and that's where it slowly but surely started to escalate.

Not really thinking about it, you wanted to diffuse the situation. In retrospect, you couldn't possibly say what has driven you to do that. Perhaps it was your worry for Roman, even though you knew he was in good and capable hands with Zsasz, and himself.

Yet, you thought it smart to stir away the man's, who he was conversing with, attention from Roman as you saw a gun glint in his hand under the table.

Chuckling nervously, you touched the man's shoulder, his back was turned to you. "Excuse me? I really don't think you should do that, y'know?" Your voice was gentle, you sounded like you were asking him for directions, rather than putting down the weapon.

"What the fuck?" The man looked at you, his faced twisted in confusion; then he jerked your hand away, turning back to Roman. "What the fuck's this supposed to mean, huh? You fucker! Don't try to-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you stupid fake fucking fuck! Zsasz!" Roman snarled, twirling his finger for Zsasz to escort the man out.

Promptly, the other businessman stood up and pointed his gun right between Roman's eyes, who barely even flinched at the sight.

Your heart rate had picked up even more than before. You were so anxious that something was going to happen to Roman, you really didn't think about your poor decision making anymore.

So, you grabbed onto the man's arm and pulled it down and towards yourself, the gun pointing to your abdomen.

Then a deafening loud BANG rang through the club.

Suddenly, it was quiet. No one moved. No one seemed to even breathe, even though you could feel your chest rise and fall quickly.

You slid to the floor, your body not supporting you anymore. As you let go of the culprit, he made a run for it. You could hear it, and as quick as he started, he was stopped. Several gun shots rang through the club in quick succession and then a dull thud, though it sounded crushingly loud in your ears.

"Fuck! Don't just stand around, for fuck's sake! You! Call the fucking doctor, tell him we're coming in with a bullet wound. And you! Clean up this fucking mess." Roman was barking out orders, you barely registered any of it.

Faintly, you could feel yourself being shifted around, lying on your back on the floor, instead of slumping weirdly against the booth. Then there was pressure on your stomach. You knew it hurt, but you didn't flinch or really feel it, as you brain was struggling to keep up.

Suddenly, Roman's face was in yours. He looked mad, concerned, and anxious all at once. Only he could display so many different emotions in only one face.

He was patting your cheek quite hard, as you lost focus. "Stay with me, baby," he murmured.

It was hard to, but you tried.

"You better not fucking die on me. Especially not when you've done something so stupid. You hear me?" You made a gurgling sound in the back of your throat. "Fuck! C'mon, sweet boy. Now's not the time. 'Kay? Not now. I promise you, I will hunt your fucking ass down and kill you myself if you decide to fucking die."

Then you were lifted up by someone, not Roman, but one of his men. He carried you bridal style outside, Roman close by, holding onto your hand. You were laid down on the backseat of a car, your legs draped over Roman's thighs, who sat there with you, keeping one hand linked with yours, loosely, and the other continued to put pressure on your injury, where someone must have wrapped it up already to put constant pressure on it.

You couldn't remember much past being in the car. It was all a rush and a blur. All you knew was that you were in a hospital bed now, hooked to monitors and an IV bag of what was probably morphine. The other thing you knew was that Roman was lying beside you, his arms loosely wrapped around your middle, above your injury, and his head on your chest. Usually that was your position, but nothing was usual about your current situation.

Lying there and remembering what has gotten you there, you winced in embarrassment. You were so fucking stupid for trying to do something about the situation at hand in the club. Fuck, Roman must have been enraged. He probably still was.

Briefly, Roman's arms around you tightened and then loosened again, as he stirred. He had been asleep then, apparently.

You desperately wanted to make a noise or move to let him know that you were awake, but you couldn't do anything. It was like you were frozen in place. Part of you was scared it wasn't real, that it would all vanish the moment you tried to make it real. Another part of you also just didn't want to face Roman after such a stupid fucking action.

Promptly though, he lifted his head and looked at you. You looked right back at him.

Palpable relief washed over Roman, lifting his features from a frown into surprise and fondness.

"You're awake," he croaked, his voice still thick and broken from sleep.

Stiffly, you gave him a small, barely there, nod.

Roman leaned up and pressed a kiss to your lips. It spoke volumes of how worried he must have actually been. He kissed you again and again, barely able to stop at all. It felt strange to you, to know that you were the reason he felt anxious about something.

Soon enough, though, he stopped kissing you over and over again, and leaned back, propping himself up on his arm that was placed on the mattress. Then he frowned at you.

"Are you fucking insane? You could have been fucking killed! Don't do that again! Fuck!" His voice broke on every other word, rising in octaves as he went on and you felt a stab in your chest.

You wanted to reply something, but as you were clearing your throat, you noticed how utterly dry it was and how it hurt.

Roman looked at you, breathing heavily with agitation. Then he realised that you wanted something and what it was. He leaned over to the bedside table on his side and grabbed an ice chip, putting it between your lips.

"Don't worry about fucking replying, 'kay? I'm sure you know how fucking stupid this was of you. And I already know that you're sorry. I can see it in your eyes," he rasped, kissing your forehead.

Then he stretched his arm to push a button, calling the doctor, as he explained by your questioning look. After that he lied down beside you again, his head back on your chest. You sighed quietly.

"Don't ever do that again. Please." That was a first. Roman never said 'please' or 'thank you'. "The next time you won't be this lucky. I don't want to have to fucking bury you, 'kay?” A pause. “When the doctor's checked you over, you'll need to rest again, I'm sure. I'll stay here, waiting for you."

A tear found its way out of your eye, running down the side of your face and into your hair. The ice chip has dissolved by then and while your throat didn't feel much better, you were sure to explode if you didn't say anything.

"I love you, Roman. I'm sorry, thank you," you croaked, a sob tearing from your raw throat.

He kissed your chest softly. "I adore you, too, my sweet boy."

[catxsnow]

WW III D.G.

Summary: Disbanding the Titans did more damage on you then anyone would have thought. Based on Titans

Warning: SWEARING YOU KNOW THE DRILL, angst, uh some mentions that you and Dick did the sex 

A/N: This is kind of has a similar vibe to OLD WOUNDS, but like more painful if that’s possible so have fun. 

GIF not mine. 

Word Count: 3k

Being part of the original Titans was something that you were proud of. You were the youngest of the bunch but proved your worth the first time that you fought together as a team. The six of you were unstoppable together and for years you continued to prove that. It was upon losing Garth that the team broke apart.

Jericho too, even though he was never part of the team. He trusted the lot of you like friends and you betrayed him. You used him to get to his father. It had taken a toll on all of you. It was why you all parted ways.

Hank and Dawn left together, you were sure nothing could break them apart. They kept up the crime fighting at their own pace. Donna quit altogether, she couldn't bare to wear that suit again after losing Gar. Dick became a detective in Detroit, never to be heard from again.

You however, you stayed in San Francisco. The city had been your home your entire life and just because the team split apart in their own ways, didn't mean that you were ready to part with your home. The Titans Tower remained vacant. Though you couldn't leave the city, you couldn't go back to your home away from home either.

There were too many memories in there. Memories of spending late night hours with Dawn and Donna being just regular girls during crazy times. Memories of beating Hank and Garth in training and never letting them hear the end of it. Memories of you and Dick, balancing between lovers and haters.

Throughout all the years that you had known Dick Grayson, you couldn't tell how you spent your time with him more: at his throat fighting or between his sheets. The two of you had a fire that never went away, sometimes it left destruction in its path while others it created something beautiful.

He consumed your life. Every day, every hour you were with him. The team couldn't keep up with what kind of terms that you were on half the time. Especially when you were out fighting together, no matter what was going on between you, the two of you protected each other to a whole new level.

You and Dick were perfect together when it came to crime fighting, that was a constant between the two of you.

And then he left. Dick Grayson packed up his bags and left San Francisco, he left you. It had been years ago but you could still remember the pain from him gone. Dick left you without even a goodbye. He thought that it was best to just disappear without anyone knowing where he was gone, without a painful goodbye.

Fuck did that hurt you.

Dick had the tendency to make your life miserable. The two of you fought over everything, couldn't agree on anything, and reeked such havoc that you couldn't tell where the destruction ended and where it started. However, he also knew how to make your life a blessing. Sweet words whispered to you late at night, kisses that would make your knees weak, and affection that continuously dragged you in for more.

His disappearance changed all that. You no longer wanted to feel these things for him, looking back at it, your relationship was nothing but toxic. One minute you were getting dragged down by him and the next you were on a pedestal. Never had a relationship of yours been filled with so many ups and downs.

So, when Dick popped up on your radar in San Francisco, specifically at the one place that you used to call home, you had no choice but to see what the hell he was doing in your city. Not only had he come back, but he had brought a bunch of strangers as well. This wasn't just his building to use, it was all of yours.

Dick, along with the others who had been curious as to who was riding up the elevator, waited for your arrival in. He knew that it had been years since he had come to see you and that leaving your like this wasn't going to be a warm welcome. He didn't know what to expect when it came to you.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Dick looked at you in awe. The years apart had done you well. You looked older, more mature. It was obvious that you were still in the game, muscles were more defined than they ever had been. You hair had changed styles - it suited you better. Dick thought that you looked beautiful.

His moment of awe was abruptly ended when he felt a punch thrown right at his cheek. Dick groaned at the pain and held onto where you had hit him. Your fists were clenched at your sides and it was easy to tell you were pissed. The kids behind him simultaneously let out a noise of shock that some stranger would attack their supposed leader like that.

"What the fuck are you doing back here, Grayson," you spit out. As much as he never knew what you were going to do, he didn't expect you to be this angry. "You disappear for years, no calls, no texts and then you show your face back in my city?" you pushed him back with every statement until he was up against a wall.

Dick had never seen such a fire in your eyes. After all of your fights, you were never this angry with him.

"(Y/N), I-" he paused. The last thing that he wanted to do with you right now was fight. You had done enough of that when you were kids.

"Who's the babe?" One of the kids that Dick had with him spoke up with the sudden silence. There were two boys, both of which must have been around the same age while the girl looked a little younger. You had no idea who these people were but they must have been special to be in the tower.

"I recommend you treat me with some respect, kid. Or I'll put you on your ass before you can repeat that," you snapped. Generally, you were in a lot better mood than this, however seeing Dick again but a new kind of fire in your chest.

"This is, (Y/N) (L/N)," Dick glanced between you and the others. "We, were, uh, partners."

"Partners wouldn't leave each other," you glared. "I don’t know why I even bothered coming here. Fuck you, Dick Grayson." You shook your head in frustration and headed back to the elevator that you came up from. This was a mistake, you shouldn't have even bothered to stir up old feelings that you had buried years ago.

"(Y/N)," Dick called out for you. "I could use your help, starting the Titans back up again." He wanted to tell you that he wanted you back in his life. He would take any excuse to have you back again. Coming back to the tower was driven by wanting to see you again. it had been years, and he had no idea where to start.

You laughed, the kind of laugh that put a chill through him. "You want to start the Titans again? Are you insane? There's a reason I never came back here, Dick. You should have done the same. Leave, before someone else gets killed on your watch."

"I can't do this without you," Dick tried to stop you once more. You were already standing in the elevator, praying that these doors would close faster. He missed you, he just didn't realize how much until arriving there. Memories of the two of you rushed back to him and he couldn't get you out of his head.

"Good. Don't."

Finally, the doors closed. You could feel your chin tremble as the overwhelming desire to cry surfaced. Seeing him again reminded you of what used to be. The two of you were destined to be at your game of cat and mouse forever. He ruined that, and he knew it too. Leaving you was one of the biggest regrets he had.

You hadn't been the same without him. Your fighting became more tactile and aggressive - just as his had. You didn't have anyone to back you up anymore leaving you with more injuries than you ever had with the team. After years of having someone to watch your back, it took a long time to become accustomed to going solo.

One thing was for sure: you weren't going to let him back into your life just to fuck it all up again.

><

Being an original Titan meant that all your information was stuck in the database, no matter how many times you tried to delete it all. You address, you family, everything there was to know about you down to your allergies. With all that at the tip of Dick's fingers, he couldn't not go over to your home to try and fix things.

He let you cool down, gave you a few days to think about his reappearance. Not to mention that he needed to settle back into the place that he once called home again. Every room that he went in, all he could think about was the memories that he made with you in each of them. His old bedroom struck him the hardest.

Past memories consumed him. The ones of the hours that you spent with him in there - laughing, joking, fighting, the make ups and the break ups. He knew that the path that you guys took was a bumpy one but he wanted it all back. He wanted you back and he knew that it wasn't fair of him to ask you of that.

Dick broke your trust. He left you when he should have known that you were the only person that would have his back. He lost the trust of the others, not after what he did with Jericho. You were the only one who knew that this was all of your faults, not just his. You were willing to share the blame but he put it all on himself.

When Dick showed up at your doorstep, late at night with a bottle of whiskey in his hands as a peace offering, you didn't want to let him in. You didn't want to let him back into your life after he ruined you for so many years. Yet, when you met his eyes, you couldn't resist opening the door a little wider for him to step in.

You brought two glasses to your small living room and handed one over to him. With your history, you were going to need the whole bottle if either of you wanted this to end well.

"I'm sorry," Dick finally brought up the reason that he was there. "I fucked up, I know. You didn't deserve this. I shouldn't have left you, not the way that I did."

"No, you shouldn't have," you agreed. "Jericho wasn't your fault, Dick. We all agreed to the plan, I take as much responsibility as you do. You didn't kill him, Slade did. If there's anyone to blame it's him. I wish you would have understood that all those years ago, I wish the others would have too."

"Doesn't matter," Dick shook his head. "They wanted to throw the blame on me and I let them, I wanted them to."

"You've always been a glutton for punishment," You sighed, taking another sip of your drink. "You can't just come back here thinking that I'm going to waltz back into your arms, Dick. You wrecked me when you left. Do you know how hard it was for me to move on with my life without you? After all those years together I thought that I would have meant more to you."

"You do," Dick met your eyes. Glutton for punishment was right, he was kicking himself over this, over leaving you. "I was never good for you. How many times did we fight? You deserve a lot better partner than me. I always knew that, I just hoped that me leaving would make you realize that as well."

It didn't. Him leaving brought out your worst self-consciousness. You analyzed everything about the situation wondering why the fuck he would leave without telling you. The others all said their farewells, wished you the best of luck. All except him, it was as if the moment the others left that you meant nothing to him as well.

"It didn't," you shook your head, pouring yourself another glass. "I tried to forget about you. Fuck did I try. You meant a lot of things to me, Dick. I just wish that you would have been able to see that."

"If I would have meant that much to you, we wouldn't have argued so much," Dick countered.

"Fight just to fuck just to fight again," You scoffed to yourself. It was true, looking back at many of your years, that seemed to be the trend. Anyone who didn't know you would have just known this, they wouldn't have known about the emotional moments you shared, the genuine care that you had for each other.

"World War Three, huh?"

You knew that if anyone tried to hurt you, Dick would have torn them apart. He would have fought anyone that looked at you the wrong way he cared so much - at least you thought it was him caring. Years of pinning over each other, maybe it wasn't care, maybe it was obsessiveness that he had for you.

The idea of a constant battle of fighting just to make up. Knowing that he could never quite have you but also aware that you couldn't belong to anyone else. Bruce shaped Dick into many things, but his compulsiveness? That was something that you were sure that was formed from neglect of emotion.

"I loved you, Dick," you gripped the sides of the chair you were sitting on to stop you from shaking. "You left before I ever got the chance to tell you."

"We all left, (Y/N)," Dick looked at you with sadness written on his face. "Titans disbanded, we couldn't keep up this act of being a team anymore. You didn't have to stay here either, that was your choice."

You picked up on his tone. I didn't love you back. Maybe he was the self-righteous asshole that everyone put him out to be. You were just to blindsided to see it for so many years. He pulled you into a trap and even when he let you go you still hung on.

Dawn. It was always Dawn that he wanted, not you. He knew with Hank in the picture, he would never get her again. Their fling was short lasting but made an ever lasting effect on him. Dawn didn't realize that it had hurt you more than it had hurt anyone else.

"I hoped that we could be a team again," your voice was strained. You downed the rest of your drink hoping to cover it up. Your disappointment turned to frustration and anger towards him. "You're right, I should have known better than to keep my hopes up. I see you found replacements already."

"I was hoping you would come back too," Dick offered again. You shook your head, going back there would do you no good. Being back with Dick would only drag you into old habits, habits that nearly destroyed you last time. After taking years to build yourself back up again, you couldn't afford the risk.

"I was too blindsided by your cock last time, I'm not making the same mistake again," You stood up from your spot and walked over to the front door. "I think its time to do what you do best and leave."

"I'm not leaving here until I know that you're going to be okay," Dick stayed seated in his spot. He poured himself another glass and topped up your drink. The two of you were going through the bottle like it was nothing. "I always cared about you, I never stopped. Please, just think about coming back to the Titans.

"Dick, please. Just go," your voice trembled. Just because he cared about you didn't mean he ever loved you like you loved him. How much of his feelings were faked just so he could get laid? You weren't the type of person that could have casual sex, you needed that emotional tether. Dick didn't.

"I'm being serious," Dick leaned back on your couch. He wasn't going to leave, he was too stubborn for that.

"I'll come back if you can look me in the eyes and tell me that once upon a time you loved me."

Dick sighed, his eyes sealed shut at your ultimatum. God did he want you back at the tower, he wanted you there as his fighter, as a leader. He couldn't handle a bunch of kids on his own, he needed you there. You already knew the ins and outs of crime fighting, it would be so much easier for him.

He knew he needed you but he also knew that he couldn’t drag you through a roller coaster again. Dick had put you through so much already, it wouldn’t be fair to keep you close just for his own benefit. He cared about you too much to hurt you again.

"I can't do that, (Y/N)."

[silveryfairy]

hey man if it's not too much trouble, could you give us a brief rundown of the Nocturnes? It's just, every morning I wake up and there's a new one, and I Care everyone in this establishment a lot though I don't really know them, thank you kindly have a nice day

let my preface this by saying: aayushi, i love you, and your enthusiasm and interest for the things i create never ceases to bring me joy. you are the kind of friend i think everyone should have and i say that completely genuinely outside of this bit.

i say that as an apology in advance for what i’m about to unleash upon you, because what you’re going to see is the product of my friend @himepapillon and i’s absolute BRAINROT and what comes of it when not only two people make an oc universe from scratch but what happens when we then have to explain that universe to other people

you are in no way required to retain this information as to be completely honest me and jeremie haven’t fully either and we’re the ones who MADE this shitshow. below is the shoddy family tree i lovingly crafted in ms paint

let us begin. 

for starters, i’ll specify some things:

1. not every oc on this chart is mine, as it’s a collaboration between me and jeremie - the koenig family and bishop family belong to faer but the rest is all me baby! for the sake of your soul i will only be going into my half of this Mess

2. the universe this takes place in is a pretty wacky and silly one, just, like, Slightly removed from reality. these characters are all completely batshit insane and do things that no human being probably should. it’s all portrayed critically, as the general concept of this whole thing is “the goings-on of a bunch of unhinged corrupt rich people”. we kind of flip flop on how seriously stuff is played but if i had to slap a genre on this it’d be, like, black comedy drama. i know a lot of these concepts sound kinda fucked to write but that’s just because i’m trying to describe them in a SOMEWHAT concise way without going into Super Introspective mode

the nocturnes are an incredibly influential and rich family in the uk that tends to produce very influential and rich people. they’re also all a little bit insane. the main characters of this Saga are the sons of desmond and xanthes, the family’s resident Power Couple and biggest figureheads. they suck ass but that will become apparent the second i talk about their children.

from oldest to youngest, the nocturne boys are:

ichor nocturne, 25 - the eldest, ichor was disowned from the household when he was 18 for unruly behavior, sent to live alone on a farm so he couldn’t tarnish his family’s image any further. since then, you’d think the isolation has driven him a bit mad - he’s a very prolific cotton farmer and has been doing astonishingly well for himself, running his farm on his own with only his parents’ inheritance as help. ...that, and, of course, the blood of the people he executes to keep his crops growing - or so he believes. he moonlights as an executioner in the small town over, exterminating the ‘pests’ of the city. despite his newfound violence, he still routinely checks in on his siblings, finding ways to mysteriously end up at their door to pay visits. the older brother instinct still hasn’t left

icarus nocturne, 23 - the second eldest (only by technicality, as he is a twin), icarus is the family’s golden child! but not in terms of business or anything, oh no - icarus is a famous heartthrob teen (sorta) musician! he’s been in the limelight since he was a little boy, being an actor as a small child and getting into music as he grew. his general Look(tm), accompanied by infectiously happy rave music, is a trademark cutesy mask over his face with oversized clothing - meant to express as much energy as possible as he bounces about the stage. in reality, he lives a life as forced and controlled as possible by virtue of... living the fucked up life of a child star. but his parents have someone to take the fall - so, what of his twin?

achilles nocturne, 23 - icarus’ younger twin, which wouldn’t mean much... in any family but this one. achilles has had it drilled into his head since the beginning that he was a mistake next to icarus, to the point where legally, he does not exist. following icarus beginning his career, achilles was unpersoned completely - living in the family’s basement with the height of his education being for a very specific purpose... needing to be icarus’ body double on tours and for paparazzi - after all, they can’t have icarus’ purity tainted by all those clamboring fans! it’s a godawful situation. on the bright side, though, achilles has found a hobby where he can be himself: twitch streaming! yes really. under the name of 1upanonymous, hidden under a mask just like his brother, achilles at least has a fanbase that can love him for who he is! ...uh, kind of.

tomasine “tommy” nocturne, 16 - the youngest of the bunch, and it says a lot about his siblings’ capabilities that he’s the technical heir to the nocturnes’ various businesses and fortune. tommy is just a feral 16 year old that doesn’t give two shits about any fame or fortune, he just wants to party and drink and have fun like any other kid his age! he’s rebellious, loud, and charmingly annoying (to his brothers anyway), and has no real care for the gravity of his family’s situations beyond finding it annoying that they want him to be all PRIM and PROPER and BUSINESSY EEWWWWW. he’s just a funny loud little child trying to live his best life. loves his brothers fiercely

already a mess of people. and really, all you need to know about or really keep in mind are those four: the upcoming characters are largely just side ones we came up with because we thought it’d be funny to flesh out this fucked up family more. so let’s get into the anatra branch of the family - headed by jael nocturne, xanthes’ brother and the siblings’ uncle

jael anatra-nocturne, who i am not giving an age for my own sanity trying to decipher this fucking timeline - a crude and playful uncle, jael is someone the nocturne boys either love (icarus, tommy) or hate (achilles, ichor). constantly joking, as he expresses affection with loving insults - kind of a money-driven asshole, but a lovable one - he’s a career politician and met his current husband, joaquin, on the job. or, well... no longer current, because jael’s funny life of debauchery, toxic masculinity, and making fun of his nephews, came to an abrupt end when he was assassinated on live television. yipes!

joaquin anatra-nocturne, who also does not get an age - jael’s former secretary and current widow, joaquin is the local wine uncle. im not sure if that’s a classification but it is now, because he is one. an unapologetic gold-digger, he (publicly) took jael’s death frighteningly well, and is now living his best life with a revolving door of new boyfriends. his relationship with jael was a genuine and very loving one, and joaquin IS devastated by his death, but both of them just found the bit of pretending to be this loveless gold digger/politician couple very funny, and being as suspicious as possible around his husband’s death is exactly what jael would have wanted joaquin to do

taddeo anatra-nocturne, 14 - the youngest child of these two, a shy little boy with big Child In A Horror Movie energies. makes potions in the backyard and probably decorates his clothes with animal bones n stuff when he’s older. despite this he’s pretty harmless, nice and fiercely loyal - tommy especially thinks he’s fun and likes to hang out with him at family gatherings - just so long as you look past the creepy dolls he likes to talk to and fires he likes to set. especially close with jael and wants to be a miniature version of him, buuut still being a shy tween taddeo hasn’t been able to act on that much.

dailon anatra-nocturne, 20 - the adopted second child of jael and joaquin, dailon is a moody and unstable delinquent that was snatched up by them just as he was about to age out of foster care. while he has a chill ‘cool-older-even-though-he’s-younger-cousin’ demeanor, the tension when he’s around his parents - jael specifically - can be cut with a knife. dailon hates his dad: ‘someone who expresses affection with insults and jokes and likes seeing people pissed at him’ and ‘someone who’s volatile, short-tempered, and sullen after living in a foster home most his life’ are just as bad of a combination as you’d expect. dailon gets himself into a lot of trouble, and is an overall very self-centered prick, but we’ll get more on that in a bit.

HELL FAMILY...2!!! that’s the last of the families to cover, buuuut there are still some other names on that list - mostly connected to dailon. this is REAL “just going on in the background” shit that you also do not need to know whatsoever (except for mitzi she’s pretty important she’s just down here for organization purposes) - i just like to play god and make characters get into drama.

[tw: cheating, unhealthy relationships, stalking]

mitzi “moon” altberg, 23 - achilles must feel very far away by now, but we’re back to him for a second! mitzi is his ex-girlfriend he met online, a fan-to-employee-to-lover and one of the maybe two people outside of the family achilles has shown his real face to. however, achilles growing up deeply unstable - between his parents’ abuse, having spotlights on him and adoring fans both as icarus’ body double and as a streamer, and in general not really growing up to be any kind of well developed human being - made this relationship a complete disaster. he grew obsessive and controlling - and when she tried to ignore him, he broke his one rule (to never go outside without permission) to find the hotel she was staying at in real life and show up to confront her. the incident was completely covered up, both by the nocturnes and with their connections, and so mitzi was forced to stay silent. this entire thing is based on this song! as time heals wounds, though, mitzi will end up doing pretty well for herself and putting achilles behind her - even getting a new boyfriend, jared!

reynard fiala, 20 - dailon’s (ex-)boyfriend, who he’s enraveled in his own weird soap opera subplot with. reynard is a relatively chill person, with an interest in art and taxidermy - just as morbid as dailon’s brother, but in a more. Normal way. genuinely a sweetheart who does not deserve what happens to them: getting cheated on with dailon’s best friend. yipes^2! while it's earth shattering in the moment, all reynard will really want to do come some time to process is to move on and for him and dailon both to heal in peace... far away from eachother (which is easier said than done since taddeo thinks reynard is super cool and loves having him over, the awkwardness between them and his brother be damned)

jared summers, 21 - the most normal person here. a longterm best friend of dailon’s, and yes, the very same one i just mentioned. he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer - what we in the industry would call a himbo if his dumbassery didn’t cause very real damage - who had been pining for dailon for years and him dating was no deterrent, and dailon, thinking the world revolves around him as he tends to do, accepted jared’s confession so they just kinda started dating on the side. jared has the moral backbone of a pool noodle, and even after it causes dailon’s relationship with reynard to fall apart, will need a wholeass intervention to be staged to make them both realize just how shitty they’re being. after that, though, jared will end that mess and be on his way to becoming a better person himself - with the help of a sweet girl he’s met online.

jared and mitzi dating in the future is the most contrived thing on the planet but just hear me out that it’ll be HILARIOUS for achilles to check in on his ex-girlfriend and find she’s dating his cousin’s best friend, who said cousin was apparently dating on the side. very small world, it is. 

anyway, thank you if you’ve somehow stuck around to read this entire thing - this isn’t even getting into jeremie’s half of this whole ordeal, which includes some of these fellas’ friends and partners, as well as more crazy rich people nonsense. it’s been very fun to think about and i do love it all dearly, even if putting it all together it’s SUCH a mess.

we don’t intend to make anything Legit out of this, it’s honestly just a fun way to pass the time. it’s the adult equivalent of playing dollhouse. in our minds this is like a 20 season soap opera but actually explaining it to other people it’s just like this

but thank you again for letting me babble i hope it was somewhat entertaining! and again, godspeed if you managed to read this much XD

[smokeybrandreviews]

Extra Credit

I’m approaching the end of my current Mas Effect play through and it’s been fantastic. As they always are. I just finished the Leviathan DLC and am about to start the Omega addition and it got me thinking about how the ME franchise has some of the best downloadable content in gaming. I’ve enjoyed almost all of them and, upon repeat completions, i figured its time i take a specific look at these extra missions and kind of work through why i love them so much. This list, some of my favorite content in the entire franchise, is definitely going to be sequel heavy because i can’t be bothered playing that first game. It’s hard to go back when you started with such a high bar.

Lair of the Shadow Broker

This one is an interesting gem. I really like the idea of the Shadow Broker but, more than that, I like Liara. She's my third favorite squad mate and that's saying a lot because this game is but on exceptions characters. You'll be hard-pressed to find one that sucks. I mean, f*ck Kaidan but everyone else leaves an impression. Liara wasn't apart of the SKWAD in ME2 and she was sorely missed. I didn't find that out until I played ME3 but, circling aback around to the second after completing my first run through the endgame, I was stunned. Liara is a boss and that Singularity is crazy overpowered. More than that, I just really liked fighting the Shadow Broker. Having a Yaag in the big chair was a stroke of genius, mostly because up to that point, we had never really seen one. Introducing them with a representative of that race being the Kingpin of Crime within the Mass Effect galaxy was amazing. Also, as kind of a cherry, their little interaction after everything on the Normandy was cute as f*ck, especially if you decide to romance her.

Omega

The Omega DLC is a whole f*cking mood. I love Omega just in general and missed it dearly during my run through vanilla Mass Effect 3. It's just something so homey about that crime infested, no man's land, of a world. A huge bonus is being able to actually, finally, play as Aria T'Loak; The Queen B*tch, herself! Because of this DLC, Aria became one of my favorite squad mates and it's a spot well earned. She's incredibly powerful, shredding through Cerberus and Adjutants alike. Similarly, Nyreen Kandros definitely makes an impression if a little fleeting. The first playable female Turian, a niche that Vetra Nyx would fill in Andromeda, I was thoroughly surprised by their design. Bioware actually out in a decent amount of effort to demonstrate the sexual dimorphism of the Turian race, unlike the goddamn Krogans. That sh*t was kind of a letdown. More that the dope character additions, just Omega, itself. Being able to actual explore areas of the station in all of it's grimy, dusty, rusty, glory is more than worth the price of admission.

Overlord

Overlord is a mixed bag but very rewarding play. The opening mission is exceptional, full of action and grandiose set piece as that satellite collapses in on itself. I loved that part. I loved what followed, less. They two missions to override the lock down were bogus as f*ck. Like, they were very clearly there to pad the run time basically. Neither one really felt necessary and I hate doing them. However, once you actually get into Atlas Station, that sh*t gets really real. I'm a slut for lore and Project Overlord is chock full of it. David shows you what happens to him, why he was treated the way he was, and when you finally free him, prepare to be absolutely horrified. The first time I saw that sh*t, I was incensed. Definitely nail that Paragon interrupt because f*ck Gavin, man! It's a happy ending for David as long as you chooses blue and do right by him. Why wouldn't you? I mean, unless you're a heartless f*cking monster, like his brother.

From Ashes

From a effect on gameplay, From Ashes is my favorite DLC in the entire franchise. Sure, you unlock Javik and he's dope, easily in my top ten favorite squad mates, but it's that f*cking Particle Rifle is a game changer. No ammo necessary. Short cooldown time. Absolutely ridiculous damage because of the continuous stream of raw, destructive, energy. A whole ass increase in power as the unit overheats. This gun is f*cking insane and I never leave home without it. Indeed, I complete From Ashes as soon as I can whenever I play ME3. This gun really makes short work of everything it sets it's sights on. As kind of an extra bonus, you get to see a bit of the Javik's cycle, too. Not a lot but, I must say, those Collectors look good in the enhanced ME3 graphics!

Stolen Memory

I love playing this thing. Aside from unlocking Kasumi, what is basically her loyalty mission, one you can do at anytime because of her DLC character nature, turns out to be a delightful change of pace. You're literally on one of her heists and it's a delight. Sure, everything devolves into Shepard shooting his way out of danger, of course it does, but even that is pretty fun to play. The cover system in Mass Effect 2 really shines in the back half of this level and makes for some rather strategic fire fights. There's one point where you can just destroy a battalion of mercs with a cannon to get out of a room and I live for that. Plus,you get to hang out with Kasumi and she is an absolute delight. Her banter is arguably the best in the game and you get a ton of it during this mission.

Leviathan

If the Citadel DLC didn't exist, Leviathan would be my favorite. This thing is an epic, lore driven, masterpiece of Mass Effect content. It's incredibly fun to play and alters the entire perceptive of the conflict you'd been fighting up to that point. The addition of the Leviathan race, itself, is a staggering revelations that alludes to so many narrative possibilities, it's hard to not to love this thing. I want to know more about them. I want to know more abut their world. I want to know more about their tech. I want to know everything and how it may tie into the original Mass Effect plot with the whole Dark Energy thing. There isn't really anything outside of that story enhancing content but I still love playing this extra mission and never pass on it.

Citadel

I mean, it's the Citadel. It's easily the best written thing in the entire Mass Effect franchise. It's the real ending to a trilogy played and I loved every second of it. Citadel is a love letter to fans and you really feel that, even after the main mission content which was filled with so much levity and tongue-in-cheek references. It's an absolute masterpiece and, as a fan, it's a must play. This is probably the shortest entry on this list but it's just that matter-of-fact. It had to be Citadel. Any other choice would have been wrong.

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x16 - What happens in Vegas... (part 2 of part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – The hospital location.  As soon as they arrive, they figure they must have made some kind of mistake. It is in fact a Psychiatric Hospital, but it looks like it has been abandoned for years.

UBER DRIVER: Looks like you might have the wrong address…

KAI: It’s the right address, look (shows Damon his phone with last night’s route).

DAMON: Guess it is…

UBER DRIVER: Are you sure you guys want me to leave you here?

IKER: Trust us, man, after last night, it can’t get any crazier.

UBER DRIVER: If you say so. Good luck! (Drives away).

ALARIC: (Looking at the creepy place, already regretting whatever they did there the previous night) Why?! Why on earth would we come here!

DAMON: Guessing princess bride here (referring to Kai), had something to do with that.

IKER: There is no way that call came from here...

DAMON: Let’s check it out. We’ll do it fast, in and out; just to make sure Stefan isn’t passed out somewhere inside.

ALARIC: I’m getting too old for this shit…

DAMON: Oh, come on, Ric! Think of it as another one of your Indiana Jones adventures (mocking him for the photos he took in cosplay), the Last Crusade, if you like.

ALARIC: Shut up…

They go inside… the place is straight out of a horror movie.

 IKER: Okay, I’m officially creeped out.

DAMON: I say we split up; it’ll be faster and we can cover more ground.

KAI: Have you ever seen a horror movie? That’s exactly the kind of decision that gets everybody killed… Trust me, I would know.

DAMON: Fine, Michael Myers, you can come with me. 

We’ll look this way... Iker, you and Ric can search down that corridor.

IKER: Sounds like a plan. But, 20 minutes max, then we meet back here.

DAMON: 20 tops. (Teasing, as him and Kai are walking away) Oh, and watch out for the killer clown…

IKER: Yo, don’t play with that shit, man! You know I hate clowns...

ALARIC: So do you, Damon. So, if anyone is pissing their pants, my money is on you. 

(Damon and Kai walk towards one direction, Iker and Alaric, towards another).

KAI: Do you really think Stefan is here? I mean, I know he’s dark and gloomy, but this is a bit extreme… even for me.

DAMON: The only reason we are here is because your crazy ass is definitely responsible for dragging us here last night.

KAI: Yeah, probably… but still, creepy AF…

DAMON: Now you know how we feel when you’re around. But… what I am really intrigued about, is how the hell you joined our little party.

You must remember at least getting on a plane or something...  

KAI: No… Last thing I remember, I was taking a nap, and then… puff! I woke up here…

DAMON: You couldn’t have driven; so how the hell did you get here… Makes no sense.

KAI: Ooh…! What if I can do that Bonster trick?! That’d be freakin awesome!

DAMON: Of course you can’t, that’s stupid. Unless… No, no, I refuse to believe that…

KAI: What? You think Bonster...? Hey, it makes more sense than the alternatives…

DAMON: No way! Hell no! Let’s just drop this little mystery of ours and do what we came here to do… (they continue searching; suddenly, he stops dead in his tracks) Shhhhh, do you hear that?

KAI: What? No…

DAMON: Listen…

KAI: I am! I don’t hear anything…

DAMON: I thought you had vamp hearing…. Listen harder.

KAI: (Standing completely still and in total silence, trying to listen…)

DAMON: (Does a vamp speed trick, scares the shit out of Kai) Killer clown!

KAI: Jesus mother of Christ! (Damon cracks up) Not funny, asshole! 

I literally almost shit myself! And, I’m hung over, so that was a real possibility!  

DAMON: Ew, no, no, no… you’re disgusting.

KAI: Just being honest… don’t act like you don’t know what that’s about.

DAMON: Yeah, no... definitely not having this conversation! 

Come on, let’s pick up the paste; vamp speed our way through this place before we become the victims of the “based on a true story” Saw movie.

Cut to – Iker and Alaric

 ALARIC: Sorry we got you into this mess, man.

IKER: No worries. I’m used to it. These types of situations pretty much sums up what it’s like being friends with Damon.

ALARIC: Tell me about it. My life said goodbye to “normal” the day we became friends.

IKER: Ditto (they laugh in complicity).

ALARIC: He’s a good guy, though. I mean, considering…

IKER: He is… I’m really glad Bonnie gave him a chance; never seen him this happy… like, really happy.

ALARIC: Me neither… I think we both know he wasn’t truly happy with Elena. Don’t tell her I said that… but no matter how hard they tried; it just wasn’t going to work; too messy. Gotta say, it’s kind of ironic that when he “got the girl”, turned out it wasn’t the “right girl” … After all his love drama, it was about time he finally found “the one”.

IKER: It sure was… Hey, man, look…  (spots something strange ahead, vamps to it. It’s a black garbage bag; which wouldn’t be all that strange if it weren’t new). Check this out… (Alaric opens the bag, and starts taking memorabilia from iconic Britney Spears videos, which are clearly originals) What the…

ALARIC: I’m starting to believe Stefan wasn’t kidding…

IKER: Nah… you don’t think… Can’t be, right?!

ALARIC: When those two (referring to Damon and Stefan) team-up, anything is possible, so… maybe?

IKER: Oh, shit! This is getting crazier than I thought!

ALARIC: Straight out insane. Let’s go back. I’m pretty sure Stefan isn’t here, and this place is giving me the chills.

IKER: Me too… (they head back to the meeting point).

Cut back to Kai and Damon.

 KAI: We’ve searched everywhere, I really don’t think he’s here…

DAMON: You’re right. Another dead end; let’s go back. (Just as they are about to turn around, Damon spots something) Wait… do you see that?

KAI: Hell no! I’m not falling again.

DAMON: No, I’m serious. Look... (they see something shiny. Damon takes a closer look, picks it up) It’s Donovan’s badge.

KAI: So, they were definitely here with us…Anything else?

DAMON: Nop, just the badge.

KAI: Well, let’s head back, see what we all make of it. This place is really starting to freak me out… the vibes, you know?

DAMON: Yeah, I know… (they speed vamp back to the meeting point and reunite with Alaric and Iker).

ALARIC: Find anything? Cause we did…

DAMON: Stefan?!

ALARIC: No, this (shows him the bag with the memorabilia).

DAMON: What is all this?

IKER: (Teasing) You know perfectly well what it is…

KAI: All too well, sweetheart.

DAMON: At least I didn’t get married in a tutu, princess.

KAI: That princess thing got old like an hour ago. You really need to start thinking outside the box, Damon.

DAMON: That’s right! Yes! A box! I remember a box!

ALARIC: Great! And…?

DAMON: That’s it, that’s all I got.

ALARIC: (Sarcastic) Very helpful, Damon.

DAMON: Well, we also found this… (shows them Matt’s badge)

ALARIC: Interesting… still not a lot to go on, but that confirms we were all here. Listen, guys, I may have a theory…I still don’t know how, or why, but I believe we actually did go to Britney’s house, the real Britney; at some point during the night…Look at the props; they don’t seem fake… Which brings me to the conclusion, that we must have stolen them from her house. Now, as for why? … I have no fucking idea, and I can live without knowing…

KAI: The Britney Spears?! Nah, there’s no way we would be able to break into her house!

DAMON: But what if we didn’t break in… What if, and just hear me out on this, Sheriff Donovan pulled the cop card… and that’s how they let us in.

ALARIC: Matt wouldn’t do that.

DAMON: Maybe not sober, but…

ALARIC: Still, they wouldn’t have let a wasted cop and his pals in for some tea.

KAI: But if we sneaked in… let’s say, hiding inside a police car?

IKER: A police car! Yes! I told you I remembered something about a police car; it was one of those suv ones…

DAMON: We must have stolen one…

IKER: Wouldn’t be a long shot.

DAMON: Don’t those things have trackers though? They would have found us in seconds.

KAI: Not if you know how to disable a tracking device… which I do.

DAMON: Why am I not surprised…

KAI: I had a lot of time on my hands, figured I’d learn a trick or two.

ALARIC: Okay, this is getting even more confusing. I say we go back to the villa, for all we know Stefan might be back. We can check the hotel parking lot, see if we find a stolen cop car; work it from there.

KAI: Agreed. We really need to get out of this place; freaking me TF out. Uber’s on me. 

(They wait for a while, until their uber arrives. As they drive away, on one of the top floor windows, a freaky clown waves goodbye).

Cut to – The boy’s hotel villa. They walk inside, and hear the piano playing…

 DAMON: It’s that damn monkey! (They walk into the living room, only to find Britney Spears, in the flesh, playing the piano).

BRITNEY: Hello, boys…

KAI: Britney…the Britney Spears…?

BRITNEY: The one and only…

KAI: (Totally fanboying) Oh my god! 

DAMON: (Totally fanboying too) OMG! OMG! OMG! It’s Britney, bitches!

BRITNEY: Aw, you’re  sweet… 

(takes a gun out of her purse and points it at them). Now, shut the fuck up and tell me where the hell is the rest of my stuff!!

ALARIC: Wow, wow, wow… please, don’t shoot! It’s right here (hands her the bag, she looks through it).

BRITNEY: You’re lucky I like to handle somethings on my own. You’d all be dead if my security were involved…

DAMON: (Still fanboying) Lucky… I love that song!

BRITNEY: Now, where is Stefan? We need to settle this little feud of ours, once and for all.

ALARIC: Wouldn’t we all like to know…

BRITNEY: What do you mean? He was with you (referring to Damon), the cop, and the howling boy, at my house last night.

DAMON: Wait, so, neither of these guys were there with us?

BRITNEY: No… but if you had brought him (referring to Iker), maybe things could have turned out differently (winks at Iker).

Tell you what, boys, I’ll help you find him. As long as you help me get my long-awaited trophy win, on “Mr. Bon Jovi”.

DAMON: Wait… so that concert story; that was you? 

I thought Stefan was messing with me!

BRITNEY: Oh, that was me… Prick made me think he was Bon Jovi, I was totally fangirling, so embarrassing. That was before I got really famous, and I met the real John. Made me feel like a fool when I told John we had met before, and he was like: “uhm, no we haven’t”. So, as you can understand, it was only fitting that I would get him back for that.

DAMON: I’m with you, Brit, Stefan is a dick!

ALARIC: Can you give us any insight on what happened at your place? Might help us figure out where he is.

BRITNEY: I know from my security cameras that they used a police suv to gain access. Then you (referring to Damon), did some weird eye thing to my security team, and they just stood there, doing nothing. I also know from the cameras, that Stefan took my babies Justi and Kevi (referring to the baby elephant and the monkey). And you (to Damon), stole the memorabilia I had from my videos… My red leather suit better be intact, or I’mma kill you!

DAMON: Oops…

IKER: Don’t you dare say: “I did it again”...

BRITNEY: Wait… I think I might know where he is… Back when we first met, we were here, in Vegas. He took me to this spot in the desert he liked to go to; he’s such a weirdo… Anyway, maybe he went there? You know, for old times’ sake…

ALARIC: Maybe… but it’s gonna be hard to find a “spot” in the middle of the desert, and we don’t have much time; our plane is leaving in like 3 hours.

BRITNEY: Well, if you want to go back home with the rest of your pack, you really don’t have much of a choice.

KAI: There’s no way we are going to find him if he is in the middle of the desert.

BRITNEY: It’s Britney, bitch! 

Of course we’ll find him. Listen, you boys take the cop van and follow mine, I’ll lead you to the spot.

IKER: Except, we don’t know where it is…

BRITNEY: (Smirks) But I do… (shows them live cctv footage from inside the cop car) See, boys, I have eyes everywhere! It’s in the parking lot.

 (They go to the car and find Matt and Tyler inside, a cellphone in Matts hand, and a lot of empty bottles lying around. As expected, neither of them remember anything about the previous night; it’s a miracle they even know who they are. The only thing they keep repeating, and cracking up about is, Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital. They are clearly either still drunk or high on something. They decide it’s best they stay behind and get some rest in the villa. Damon, Iker, Alaric and Kai get in the cop car, and follow Britney to the site.)

 BRITNEY: Okay, boys, this is the spot.  (They get out of the car, start looking around. She get’s out as well, points the gun at them). Did you really think I was going to help you?! Aw, cuties…no one messes with the Brit! I gave Stefan his, now it’s time for yours …

KAI: But, Britney, what about us (referring to himself, Iker, and Alaric)? We didn’t do anything!

BRITNEY: Guilty by association… Now, give me your clothes, and the car keys… Quick, or I swear I’ll shoot! (They hand her the stuff; she gets in her car. Just as she is about to take-off, she opens her window) If you want to know where Stefan is; it’s easy, he’s exactly where he belongs… Good luck trying to find an uber to pick you up here… And, by the way, sweetheart (talking to Damon), there’s only one princess of pop, and it ain’t you. 

(Gives them the finger, and drives away).

DAMON: (Looking heartbroken) But… Britney…

ALARIC: (Sarcastic) Well, isn’t this peachy!

IKER: At least she left us our phones.

ALARIC: There is no way we are going to catch that flight, or find Stefan any time soon. I think it’s time to call Caroline…

DAMON: Shit! Shit! Shit!... Fine… I’ll do it… (dials). Care, it’s Damon… Listen ...The bachelor party got a little crazy and, well...we lost Stefan.

BONNIE: Uhm…think we might have a problem of our own…

DAMON: Bon?

BONNIE: It’s me, I think… Anyway; the bachelorette got a little crazy too, and, well… we lost Caroline.

TVD 9x16 (part 2) coming next! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

[hoodoo12]

Private Lesson

Dewey Finn appreciation continues! Based on an rp with the always delightful, insanely talented @beetlebitchywitch. NSFW: Dewey/f!reader. Flirting, Dewey being oblivious, the light comes on, smut! Enjoy!

⁂

“You know, Dewey,” she said, “I'm not in a rock band. But I play piano, so I've got manual dexterity, and I play saxophone so I have pretty good breath control too. I wonder if either of those things interest you at all?”

As always when the discussion of music was even breathed near him, he brightened, “Oh, you looking to join a band? Mine’s kinda just made of kids, but I’m sure they’d love a jam session with you!”

She gave him a bit of a smile, and decided to play along for the moment.

“It'd have to be a jazz band, not rock,” she mused. “I kind of like the big band sound, and some of those male vocalists? Yeah. That’s my preference.”

“I bet you’d do great at that!” he enthused. “Jazz isn’t really my thing, but as long as you’re passionate about it, you’ll make great music.”

He was clueless and adorable. She decided to up the ante. “I think it'd be fun making some music with you, if you're interested . . .”

His brow furrowed. “ . . .wait.”

She raised her eyebrows and her smile widened.

“ . . . I think I get it,” he continued in her silence.

Did he, though? “No kids though. It'd have to be a private lesson.”

“You, uh. You talking about a . . .” He gulped. “ . . .  private lesson?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed.” I don't know anything about guitar, so you'd have to show me the fingerings. You know?

A blush began creeping up his cheeks. “I . . . I do know a thing or two about f-fingering . . .”

“I bet you do, Dewey.” she agreed, licking her lip just to make it shiny. “I know that lots of guitarists have calloused fingers too--I dated a bassist, once--but that's okay. Shows you're dedicated to what you like.”

He was getting more flustered, but instead of shutting down, he choked out, “Did you, uh . . . did you like the callouses?

“Sure did! It's an interesting contrast on . . . softer skin. And since the fingertips lose a little bit of feeling when those callouses are there, a little extra attention, like a little harder suction, is needed. Musicians hands always need some massaging and care.”

He was bright red at this point, gazing at her with wide eyes as if seeing her for the first time. “Would you, um . . . Christ, sorry, forget it . . . ”

“Would I what?” she prompted softly. “It's okay, Dewey. What were you going to ask?”

“Well, I . . . it’s just . . . I’dbetyou’dfeelreallysoft . . .”

His slurred words took a second to decipher, then she grinned. "Come here and feel?"

She held a hand out to him, palm up.

He approached her slowly, his cheeks pleasantly pink as he gazed at her hand.

“O-okay . . .”

He reached out and touched her hand, and oh god, he was right, her skin was so soft. He shuddered as he traced his calloused fingertips in light circles around her palm.

She let him rub circles into her palm, even though it tickled a little and he seemed shy about such innocent contact. Smiling at him, she asked, "Do I get to return the favor?"

His eyes flitted back up to hers and he nodded softly, mirroring her gesture with his palm faced up, his hands trembling slightly.

She took a second to rub her hands briskly, to warm them, then took his hand into hers. Using her thumbs, she pushed into his palm before dragging them out, and repeating the motion. She used more gentle pulling motions on each individual finger, adding minor twists to loosen any stiffness he might have in a joint. She paid special attention to his fingertips, like she'd mentioned, applying slightly harder pressure on the callouses he'd created with the strings of his guitar.

She laced her fingers with his and stretched everything backwards, again to loosen it all, and finished after another quickly rubbing her hand together again, for the heat. She squeezed his hands lightly, when she was done.

"That would've been better with some lotion," she told him sheepishly. "Maybe next time?"

He watched her intently as she massaged his hand, putting so much care into a simple action in a way that just did something to him. God, he felt so pathetic, getting so worked up over someone just touching his hand, but something about the way her soft fingers soothed the overworked muscles sent hot pleasure racing through him. He hated to admit it, but he was getting hard in his pants from the simplest of touches, this gentle, caring gesture that just made him want to fall to his knees and worship her where she stood.

“Y-yeah . . . ” he stammered, his mouth feeling utterly dry. “Next time . . .”

"Well, I'm sure other parts could use a little attention too. I bet you store a lot of tension in that shoulder where your guitar strap digs in, and everybody's back needs some rubbing too . . . of course, it'd be best if you didn't have a shirt on for that . . ."

“Yeah, no, I can do that!” he said hurriedly, fumbling with his shirt as he rushed to take it off. The thought of those soft, warm hands on his back . . . he tried to readjust himself discreetly, not wanting to embarrass himself.

She plucked the shirt out of his hand where he'd balled it up and folded it semi-neatly. Dragging her fingertips across his now bare shoulders, she smiled.

"This might be better if you're laying down," she advised, "but the only place that would be comfortable enough is the bed. Would that be okay?"

He shivered at the light tickle of her fingertips along his shoulder, and with a soft nod, he was laying out across the bed, thankfully on his stomach so to hide his growing arousal.

She hummed her satisfaction and crawled up beside him.

She focused on his left shoulder first. working out the kinks driven into the muscle by that guitar strap. She could feel the knots there, and used heavy pressure to try and loosen them. Worried she'd go overboard, however, she left it be and worked on his right shoulder, as well as his neck.

Quietly she asked him to cross his arms and rest his forehead on them, and when  he complied, she pressed her thumbs into the muscle near the back of his head, on either side of his neck.

Then she moved down the rest of his back, using sweeping motions and moderate pressure to relax him. His back was warm and soft under her hands, and she tried to make sure not to tickle him as she worked her way to his waist.

In his lower back, she traced around the dimples she found there a few times because they were cute, then she once again used moderate pressure on the area. Her fingers dipped under the waistband of his jeans--that was a mistake, she should have had him shed those too, no one could be comfortable getting a massage in jeans!--but she didn't make it awkward.

She finished it all with very light scratches, and impulsively, she pressed a kiss right between his shoulder blades.

Fuck. Her hands were heavenly, her touch just firm enough to loosen his tense muscles. She touched him slowly, softly, and Christ it was driving him fucking wild. When her touch grew slightly more adventurous, he perked up, feeling like there was electricity buzzing under his skin. But God, when she pressed that soft little kiss on his back, that was it. He let out a pathetic, reedy moan of her name, his entire body trembling underneath her.

She laughed a little, not unkindly, at his moan. Her hands tingled. "So you're feeling good, Dewey? Anything else I can do for you?"

Teasingly, she drew one finger down his back again.

“I-I . . . yes,” he sighed, arching up into the teasing touch with a soft moan. “Christ, I’ve been hard this whole fucking time, baby . . .”

Who needed shame when a hot woman was fucking massaging him?

"Oh! Well, that must not've been too comfortable! Why don't you lose those jeans, and I'll see what I can do to make you feel better in the front too."

He perked up, looking over his shoulder at her questioningly, as if to make sure she meant it. When he saw she did, he shuffled out of his jeans as quickly as he could, struggling for a moment before tossing them away. He was left in only his boxer briefs, his cock straining obviously against the fabric.

Her eyes took him in hungrily, and very lightly, she ran her palms up him, from thigh to chest. She grazed over the bulge at his crotch with the softest, most barely-there touch.

"Those have to be tight too . . ." she told him, nodding towards his underwear. "They should probably go."

He met her gaze, his shyness melting away to pure hunger.

“Then take them off,” he said softly.

Biting her lip but smiling through it at his boldness, her fingers hooked into the elastic at his waist. With a little tug to indicate he needed to lift his hips, she shimmied them over his ass, made sure not to get them caught on his cock, and pulled them down his legs in one determined movement. She wrangled one of his feet out, but left his underwear around the other ankle, to tease.

His cock slapped against his stomach, achingly hard and begging to be touched. He stared her down hungrily, his eyes roving her body.

“Shouldn’t I get to see some skin too, babe? I mean, I am naked for you...”

He smiled slyly, his eyes clearly lingering on her breasts.

"Yes, you certainly are," she agreed.

She couldn't help but scratch lightly down his sides, over his stomach. She'd have dragged her finger down the line of hair from his belly button to his pubic bone, but it was covered by his cock and she didn't want to touch him there just yet.

"That's fair. I have a tattoo and piercings. I hope that's okay," she told him, but pulled her t-shirt off over her head before he could agree or disagree. She let her shirt drop beside the bed, and her bra followed it.

“Okay? It’s hot as fuck, babe,” he groaned, finally getting to take in the sight of her without her shirt on. “Christ . . . you’re beautiful . . . ”

His voice and eyes grew soft, taking her in like she was a work of art.

That unsolicited praise made her blush.

She crawled a little further up the bed on her hands and knees. She watched him watch her, and it made her catch her breath.

"It's not really a standard massage move--more of an advanced one--" She chuckled to show it was a joke, "--but to be thorough, I should probably make sure your lips are relaxed too . . ."

She leaned over him, and softly pressed her mouth on his.

He moaned into her lips, wrapping his arms around her waist and spreading his hands out over her back. Christ, her skin was so soft, smooth and wonderful against his calloused fingers. He kissed her back softly, chuckling a bit at her comment.

“You can drop the whole massage shtick, you know,” he said, pulling away with a little wink. “I think we’re past that at this point, right babe?”

She laughed into his mouth, her eyes bright, looking at him in amusement. "Should I go back to calling it a private lesson?"

He laughed, his eyes twinkling with mirth and adoration for the woman above him.

“Let’s call it what it is,” he said softly, leaning in for an equally soft kiss. “Now . . . Christ, please touch me . . . ”

"I thought you'd never ask, lover," she replied, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Immediately she lay down beside him, hiked on an elbow, using one hand to scratch and massage down his torso. This time, when she neared his cock, she didn't bypass it.  Wrapping her hand around him, she gave him a tug, then another. She stopped watching her hand to glance at his face for his reaction.

His face crumpled as her hand moved up and down his cock. God, he was so sensitive, having been hard and waiting for so long. He bucked up into her hand with his mouth hung open, little whimpers spilling from his lips.

She liked that he jerked into her and his whimpers were sweet. That was all good, but it could be better. She stroked him with a little more intent, giving him a twist when she reached the head of his cock with each upward pull.

“F-fuck,” he moaned shakily, reaching out to brace his hand on her shoulder. Her hand was so soft, and she was using the perfect amount of pressure as she stroked him, it was driving him fucking crazy.

“Babe . . . fuck, c’mere.” He surged up, pushing her onto her back and moving to hover over her.

"Uh-uh, lover," she protested, and flipped him right back to where he'd been: on his back. "Maybe next time you get to be in charge."

To keep him in place, she quickly shed her pants and panties and then climbed up over him and sat on his upper thighs. She walked her fingers up his stomach to his chest, and she rolled his nipples.

He threw his head back with a desperate moan, bucking up into her touch as the little noises poured from his lips. This was not how he expected this to go, but honestly, he wasn’t complaining in the slightest.

She smiled down at him, loving the moans she dragged out of him. She pinched him again before stretching upward to kiss him, harder this time, slipping her tongue between his lips.

The position had moved her more onto his groin, but she held herself up for the moment. Her belly and chest on his, she wiggled against him, skin on skin.

“B-babe!” he cried out, holding tightly onto her hips as she ground down onto him. Christ, she felt so good, all warm and smooth skin under his hands.

"Mmm--that feels nice," she cooed, even as she sat up a little bit. She pried one of his hands off her hip and transferred it to her right tit. She closed his fingers over the captive bead piercing in her own nipple.

"Be nice," she said, in mock warning.

“Mmf, yes ma’am,” he groaned, kneading her breast in his hand.

He let his fingers play with the bar pierced through her nipple, pinching and twisting her nipple while gazing up at her in adoration.

"Oh, that's fucking good," she moaned.

The sharp pleasure Dewey created with his rough fingertips made her arch her back, which in turn dropped her pussy to his cock. It wasn't the perfect position, his shaft laying the length of her slit, but she ground down on him anyway, continuing to moan and giggle a little.

“Oh god,” he groaned gutturally, bucking his hips to grind the length of his cock along her pussy. Christ, she was fucking wet, all hot and slick against him and it was driving him fucking crazy. He continued playing with her nipple, loving the feeling of the metal inside it.

His movements down below made his cock rub along her clit, and she jerked like it'd been a live wire.

"Fuck--Dewey! Do that again!" she ordered, but it came out more like a plea.

He continued grinding up against her, throwing his head back with a reedy moan at the feeling of her slick warming his cock.

She dropped her head as he complied, and gave a little gaspy moan with each bump of the head of his cock on her clit.

Like before, it was good, but it could be better.

She leaned down again dislodging his hand from her now overstimulated nipple. She kissed him, then dragged her mouth along his jaw till she got to his ear. She nipped the lobe, and rasped.

"I wanna fuck you, Dewey Finn--right now!"

He kissed her back sweetly, burying his fingers in her hair. When she moved to nibble at his ear, he groaned, biting at his lower lip at the sound of her filthy words.

“Then fuck me,” he retorted.

She snorted--like what he'd said was some kind of challenge?--nipped him a little harder on his ear and sat back up. Dragging her fingernails down his chest and belly again, she reached between her legs and grasped his cock. She gave it a twisting pull, like before, then let him go and brought her hand back up to her mouth to lick it. She kept direct eye contact with the man below her as she did, then slipped her hand back down. One last time she wrapped her hand around him, this time wet, and held him steady while she rocked her hips and found exactly where she wanted him to be.

With a little resistance because yes, she'd been turned on while massaging and teasing him but with the exception of a bit of humping not much else had happened between her legs, she arched her back and pushed down onto him. Once he opened her up, her cunt took him fully, and she paused for a moment, seated at his pelvis for a moment, waves of pleasure making her moan long and low.

“Ohhhh fuck,” he groaned while she sank down onto him.

If he thought her just grinding on his cock was incredible, god, the feeling of her tight, wet pussy gripping him was almost too much to handle. He gazed up at her, and Christ was she hot, her tits just begging to be squeezed where they hung above her belly.

She sat upright on him and gently rolled her hips, keeping him deep inside her. She cupped her tits, and seeing him lick his lips as she did she leaned back down for a moment. The positioning wasn't perfect, so she asked him to sit up, and she bunched up and shoved the pillows behind him to keep him angled more upright. It was awkward for a moment, trying to balance with his cock inside her as he settled back, but once he had, her tits were closer to his mouth. She grinned and, tugging just a bit on her piercing to make the nipple stand up again, she cupped it and offered it to him with raised eyebrows.

He looked up at her for a second with eyes full of wonder before he latched on, rolling his tongue around the hardened bud and groaning against the cool metal of the piercing. He wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her as he thrusted up into her, craving the delicious slide of his cock in her pussy.

Like a circuit being completed, bliss arced through her. She wrapped her now free hand around his head, keeping him close. She'd have been happy to keep fucking him, but with his feet planted on the bed he pushed up into her, and it was divine. She cried out in time with his thrusts, his cock creating the most delicious friction even as her pussy grew wetter.

"D-Dewey!" she stuttered. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, please--bite harder, just a little harder, oh fuck fuck fuck--"

Christ, she was fucking incredible. He was in awe of her as she rode him, tits bouncing as he teased her nipple with his tongue before nipping at it, scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin. He pulled away, looking up at her with dark, wild eyes.

“That’s it, baby, Jesus you feel--mmf, fuck--you feel so good!”

"Fuck! You too, you too," she babbled.

Everything was building to a peak. He'd left off her tit but that didn't matter any more, the only thing that existed in the world right now was the man below her, his cock in her pussy, his hands so tight on her skin, his dirty praise. Her throat hurt from the sharp panting and moans he pulled from her, and then it all stilled. In the next moment, she came, hard, his name choked out, every bit of her clenching as euphoria rolled in waves over her. For a millisecond of eternity, it was sublime. It took a bit before she could open her eyes again, and her ears were ringing.

Oh god. Oh god. She was utterly divine, riding him within an inch of his life, hands scrabbling for purchase on his chest and pretty little noises spilling from her lips. And god, when she came, it was all too much. Her pussy clenched around him so fucking tightly and it was all over. He gripped her hips tightly and came with a loud moan, spilling into her as absolute sublime pleasure ripped through his body.

Although there were still residual tremors of pleasure, she wasn't so far gone that she couldn't enjoy the sights and sounds of Dewey coming undone below her.

"Good--oh baby, it's so fucking good--come inside me, oh fuck, Dewey--!" she praised as he tipped over the edge of ecstasy. His hands pinched her, but it was worth the small ache to watch his face as he lost himself.

When he relaxed, she relaxed too, folding over and laying on his chest, but not lifting her hips so he stayed buried in her pussy. With her cheek on his shoulder, she drew abstract designs in the hair on his chest.

He panted softly as he came down, the feeling of his cum dripping from her pussy practically making his head spin. She was so incredibly warm and wet around him, and the pleasurable feeling fizzled out slowly as she shifted to snuggle up to him.

“W-wow . . .”

"Wow yourself," she agreed. "Thanks for all that, Dewey. It was amazing."

“You don’t have to thank me,” he sighed happily, twirling a strand of her hair in his fingers. “The pleasure was all mine . . . well, all ours I suppose.”

She picked up her head to look at him.

"It was amazing," she repeated, and kissed him under the jaw, in his scruff. "I appreciate the private lesson. Maybe next time you could show me some of that fingering you mentioned?"

He grinned, pulling her down into a slow, sweet kiss.

“Anytime, babe,” he said. “Anytime.” fin!

[ordinaryschmuck]

Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-6th Place

…

Can someone please explain how it is possible that #6 can somehow be one of the best shows in the 2010s, yet somehow it can also be one of the worst?

#6-Rick and Morty (2013-)

The Plot: A nihilistic scientist named Rick Sanchez returns to his daughter and joins her family to the dismay of...well, everyone else. The one who gets the most anxiety is Rick’s grandson, Morty, who ends up getting dragged alongside Rick on adventures across the cosmos and even the multiverse. From there, they face dangerous aliens, Rick’s old enemies, and even evil alternate versions of themselves. Not because those threats are a danger to the universe. It's because they’re just a pain in the ass to deal with.

Now that I got the plot out of the way, I want to take the chance to briefly rant about why Rick and Morty is one of the worst things that could have come to television. It has nothing to do with the show itself (far from it, in fact). The real reason why Rick and Morty is the worst has everything to do with its fandom. I know, I know. I shouldn’t use a show’s fandom to judge it. Because if I did, then half the series on this list would be blasted into the sun. But the Rick and Morty fandom is the one exception to that rule. Because unlike most toxic fandoms that stick with being a-holes to other people on the internet, the Rick and Morty fandom actually affects real life. They take quotes from the show that were fun to say and repeat them so much that those quotes become the most annoying words created by man. This fandom also drove McDonalds up a wall because Rick briefly mentions how delicious the Szechuan sauce was, and the “fans” ended up breaking McDonalds when they briefly brought it back. But nothing, and I mean NOTHING, is more annoying than how these people react when someone says they don’t like the show.

You see, according to the fandom, “Rick and Morty operates on a higher form of intelligence that far exceeds all shows known to man. If you don’t enjoy it, then you’re just a big old dumb fjdlfjkdlfjoidsahjipfojewoitufd9gt9geijo parwfu9--” SHUT THE F**K UP! Ok?! Shut up! Just shut up! Because Rick and Morty is NOT the smartest T.V. show on the planet. It’s not even CLOSE to the most intelligent show on television. It’s smarter than most shows. I’ll give it that. But if you want to ask me which show was the most intelligent, I will more than willingly say Futurama. You know. The show is actually written by people with three PhDs and seven master's degrees. Hell, I’d be more willing to say that The Amazing World of Gumball is smarter than Rick and Morty. That’s right. I wholeheartedly believe that the show aimed for children-F**KING CHILDREN-is smarter than the show aimed for adults. And guess what, Rick and Morty fans! It doesn't require Stephen Hawking's levels of intelligence to enjoy the show. You can easily be a C+ high school student and still think the show is good. I should know because I’ve caught classmates who are C+ students watching the show while IN CLASS! AND THEY ENJOYED EVERY MINUTE OF IT! NOT BECAUSE IT WAS BRILLIANT! NOT BECAUSE IT WAS A MASTERPIECE SENT BY THE BIG GUY HIMSELF! BUT BECAUSE IT IS LIKE EVERY OTHER SHOW THAT IS AIMED FOR ADULTS! WITH LOW BROW AND HIGH BROW HUMOR, GRATUITOUS VIOLENCE, BUTT UGLY ANIMATION, AND CHARACTERS WHO ACT LIKE A**HOLES TO EACH OTHER BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT ADULTS LIKE TO SEE ON TELEVISION!

>SCREAMS WITH INSANITY<

>Huff<

>Puff<

Man, that’s twice in a row when a show has nearly driven me to the brink of insanity. That can’t be any good.

…

Aw well. Not that I’ve got that rant out of the way, allow me to actually talk about the show itself and why it actually is pretty amazing.

First and foremost is the show’s comedy. While the jokes aren’t “brilliant masterpieces,” they are jokes that get you thinking from time to time. They also come pretty fast, so even when one dies, another funnier joke immediately comes after. This show also dabbles in two different senses of humor: Absurdity and being super dark. The way absurd and dark humor works are by giving viewers no other reaction other than laughing at a situation. Because how else would you react to squirrels running the government or the idea that Hitler cured cancer in an alternate dimension? I mean, other than being confused and disgusted by things such as that. This is why humor, like most things, is subjective. Not everyone will find the same things funny, and, understandably, they don’t. I personally can’t stop laughing in most episodes of Rick and Morty, but I would never verbally attack another person for saying something different. So chill the f**k out when a person says they don’t think the show is funny! Besides, other cool pros that come from Rick and Morty.

One spectacular thing is the show’s attention to detail. And I don’t just mean in terms of animation. The stories are pretty airtight most of the time, and rarely do I find a plot hole within. The best example is the twist in “The Ricklantis Mixup.” The episode itself is already pretty good, but having prior knowledge of the final big reveal leads to looking at specific scenes in a new light. As for the animation, there’s also great detail within it. Like in the background, to be more exact. The show goes out of its way to make each new world that Rick and Morty visits look as unique as possible, which should really be the goal for a sci-fi series if you ask me. And can we give a round of applause to whoever designs the characters in this show? I mean, the characters look hideous (which is something I never understood in adult animation. Seriously, who was the idiot that thought it was a good idea that you have to make your characters look as ugly as possible to be considered for adults?), but each character in this series--background and foreground--looks unique. Usually, most shows stick to having similar models reused and redesigned to give the illusion that the background characters are different. But in Rick and Morty? There is rarely a time when one creature looks the same as the other. And when they do, it’s usually for a purpose such as an alien species that looks the same or making an identical alternate version of Rick and Morty.

Speaking of, what is by far the best thing about Rick and Morty is...well, Rick and Morty. These two not only have a great dynamic, but they even have great chemistry with each other. Because whenever a show advertises its central hook being its dynamic duo, the same pair must have perfect interactions. And boy, is it hilarious seeing these bounce off of one another. Their synergy is always hilarious, and at times it can be surprisingly heartwarming. In fact, what I love most about these two is how they sort of learn from each other. Rick is still a nihilistic a-hole to those around him, but he seems to back off the most when he’s around Morty (most of the time). And while Morty still puts his foot down when it comes to Rick’s pure unadulterated...Rickness, he also has moments where he seems to share his grandfather's nihilistic views. I rarely ever seen this, as most dynamic duos keep their intended personalities to keep audiences entertained. And while I’ve heard fans complain about how the show makes Rick more human and Morty more like a Rick, I personally enjoy how much of an engaging character study these two represent.

Unfortunately, while Rick and Morty are easily the most intriguing characters in their series, they are also the only characters worth mentioning. Summer is fine, I guess, but most of the time, it feels like the writers aren’t sure what to do with her. Is she a slacker? A cliche teenage girl? Rick’s number one fan? I don’t know because most of the time, it feels like her personality is dependent on what the writers want in an episode. She isn’t bad, but some consistency would be nice. As for other characters, there really aren't that many who are worth mentioning. Most of them are either bit characters who serve the purpose of making a joke or are just one-off villains that our “heroes” face. Now there isn’t anything wrong with that, especially considering the latter. After all, when you watch Bugs Bunny screw around with someone who's wronged him, it’s always that Wascally Wabbit you remember the most. Still, I wish there were a couple more characters the show could invest in. And I know, last time I complained about a show that had too many characters. However, the opposite extreme isn’t that great either. Personally, I feel as though a series should have a moderately sized cast, where there are enough personalities to work off of, and you won’t have to recycle ideas you’ve used with the characters you already have.

And seeing as how we’re on the topic of characters, there are two individuals that I need to talk about. In fact, these two characters are easily the worst thing about Rick and Morty (aside from the fandom). Those characters are Beth and Jerry. Sweet mother of all that is holy, these two are downright insufferable! For some reason, the writers think it would be entertaining to have a married couple always argue and bicker with each other. It isn’t. In fact, every time an episode moves away from Rick and Morty and decides to focus on these two, the show’s quality plummets on a lot of notches. You’ll want to see them get a divorce. You’ll PRAY that they get a divorce. And (actual spoilers) when they finally get a divorce in season 3, do you want to know what the worst part is? They are somehow worse apart than they are together (spoilers over). And you can argue who you think is worse all you want, but to me, the worst character is easily Beth. I personally don’t mind Jerry all that much. At his best, he’s hilariously pathetic, has a great dynamic with Rick, and I legitimately feel bad for him when the universe seems to kick him when he’s down. Can he get a little grating at times? Yes. Absolutely. But while Jerry can be annoying, Beth can be a downright psychotic moron. She will willingly endanger her family, all in the efforts of pleasing a narcissistic a**hole of a father who consistently has a god complex. And when a person points this out to her, she will insult them and point out how “great” it is to have her father back again. Even though Rick didn’t seem like that great of a father anyway. It is physically and psychologically unhealthy for Beth to have these disillusions, and it isn’t until four seasons does she actually tries to show some backbone. Which I still don’t believe because it feels like it won’t last by how quick it is.

And seeing that we’re on my own personal hang-ups with the show, there’s one last topic that I want to cover. And it’s a topic that, to my knowledge, nobody else is bothered by. This problem affects me personally, and I want to give a word of warning to those who might not actually feel the same way. And that’s the fact that Justin Roiland is not the great of a voice actor that he thinks he is. This doesn’t mean he’s a bad voice actor because he's far from it. In fact, I can’t even hear the similarities between his voice for Rick and for Morty. But there is a problem: Justin Roiland has two modes. It’s either his normal voice or his high pitched voice. Both with minimal modulation, and it’s the latter that he seems to focus on the most when he voices 80% of the characters. The problem is that I not only think his high-pitched voice is annoying but with how consistently Roiland uses it, it will always break the immersion for me. Because I’m not hearing a unique character. I’m hearing Justin Roiland doing the same high pitched voice for nearly every character he voices. Just look at Seth Macfarlane and the characters he voices. You can tell it’s him, but he at least offers different modulations for each character (If you don’t believe me, then compare some of his famous roles with Justin Roiland’s).

While we’re still talking Justin Roiland’s acting, it’s also his improv that could use a little workshop. Now, for the most part, the improvisation is pretty good in the show. Like actual good improv, it feels natural within the dialogue exchanges, and you wouldn’t know until someone else points it out. However, there are times when Roiland’s improv can feel like verbal barfing. It’s fine when he voices Rick’s drunken rants, but for the Interdimensional Cable episodes? Yeah, needless to say, it can get a little noticeable. So noticeable that even the characters point out how blatant it is within the episode. Again, this is something that bothers me personally. To my knowledge, there isn’t anyone else who complains about this aspect of the show, which is perfectly fine. I just feel like other people should get a word of warning before they dive right in.

So is Rick and Morty the godsend of a series that surpasses all other television shows? F**k no. No series that has ever been made is 100% perfect. Not even the good ones. And if you disagree, then you are in denial over how many faults a show has. For instance, Rick and Morty have plenty of issues. There’s not that many likable characters, it has the worst cartoon couple ever with Beth and Jerry, and Justin Roiland needs to work on his acting despite being an already good actor. That’s everything wrong with Rick and Morty in a nutshell. But despite these problems, the show still has phenomenal attention to detail, hilarious comedy, and the best dynamic duo in recent memory. So while it isn’t the perfect show that its fans believe it is, it is still pretty damn good. And that alone is good enough for me.

(Just do yourself a favor and avoid joining the fandom. It’s already too late for those poor bastards who are already in too deep, but it isn’t too late for you!)

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep21: Duke Puts on Duel Disk, Immediately Takes Disk Off

So last time we ended, Yugi and Tea were stranded in the middle of an ancient warfield that was hundreds of feet off the side of this cliff topped with a seldom used railroad track.

And yes, this is all somewhere in what should be one of the most populated parts of the Bay Area.

Amazed that this school uniform can go through such rugged terrain. But then again, last season it got hit squarely with a fireball, so...this school uniform is essentially a Batman suit.

But I just want to point out that Yugi didn’t take the duel disk off before vaulting up this cliff. Tea has a bag youknow...but gotta sweat up the duel disk that our entire world relies on.

It would be very funny if this season ended abruptly because Yami either dropped this thing on the ground and finally broke it, or just plain forgot he needed to charge it’s batteries.

And so now we just walk...kind of in the direction where they hope Joey and Tristan are?

I do appreciate that although Pharaoh is completely lost in a foreign country, he will not admit it.

(read more under the cut)

On the other side of the tracks, Joey is dragging his Sisyphean stone.

Please admire that this entire scene takes place somewhere in the Grand Canyon. Like it’s episode 20 and I just still can’t get past how they went to California and didn’t include a single beach.

Mai has decided she’s done screaming off the back of a motorcyle, and has decided to come over to Dartz’ lair to scream where the traffic isn’t quite so bad.

And she just rage quits.

Is this the first rage quit we’ve ever had in this show about games? Incredible.

Also, I didn’t realize you could just quit the end of the world cult in the final hours of ending the world, but I guess it doesn’t really matter much to Dartz. Whether Mai ends up killing Joey or doesn’t end up killing Joey, it’s still a soul in the Leviathan bucket so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now, in the actual dialogue of the show, Dartz tells Valon that Mai’s basically going to get what she deserves and no one here needs to even do anything to change or stop it. But, it was still somewhat surprising that this 10,000 year old serial murderer world destroyer was so down to shell out some relationship advice. Almost like maybe he has somewhat of a fatherly concern for his stupid ass murder boys. Kind of. Sort of.

Enough to try and tell Valon to leave this one alone because she’s gone maniacal pixie dream girl and there’s no coming back from that.

In order to have motorcycle gangs, you have to have bearable enough traffic for said gangs. That’s why we just don’t have a motorcycle gang problem in real deal California like a lot of 70′s-80′s movies would have you think. They’d only be able to drive in like...one lane, and they’d get constantly cut off and driven off the road by Google buses.

TBH the Google bus is our true modern motorcycle gang, there are just so many of these damn buses. And also, I deleted a lot of text right now when I went off about the ongoing bus war, which is absolutely a thing here. The motorcyclists are just doing me a solid by not being a car on the road and staying out of my lane.

In a more realistic version of this show, Mai would have never made it to the desert, she’d be too busy watching only one single car able to turn right onto Octavia every light cycle because of all the damn private buses and uber cars flooding our itty bitty one way streets.

And to try and tame Mai, Valon decides to do this...motorcycle stand off?

It’s like he’s trying to catch a feral cat.

At some point one of them stops, and like I was focused too much on how good their brakes are to pay attention to who stopped first.

Probably Valon, because Mai is completely insane.

And so then he just...

Y’all I know they had to give Valon motivation to be in love with Mai, but this kids show jumped through so many hoops to make this very unhealthy relationship appear like Valons love was pure and true while still showing that this is a very unhealthy relationship. Kind of a hard balance.

It’s actually interesting how much work they put into Valon’s very tragic and problematic relationship after they’ve dodged every other problematic relationship this show has brought forth.

Like the villain with a heart of gold is a trope, but it’s a trope that works. There is no hope in the world that this relationship could pan out. They’re not a misunderstood pair like he thinks they are. They’re freakin terrible and they don’t deserve each other. But he’s gonna try and do it anyway.

We get to watch Valon bargain (mostly with himself) about how this relationship (which exists mostly in his head) is going to absolutely work out, because to him, if he feels so intensely, eventually she’s gotta feel the same. Most people haven’t murdered people, but it’s still a very relatable type of situation that the show displays without getting too preachy about how it’s clearly bad news. They just introduce it for the audience to come to their own conclusions, and I was really surprised by that level of maturity.

I’ve been sitting here saying “There’s no way this show could balance Tea with Yugi and the Ghost in his head. There’s no way they can really touch on Kaiba and that paper card. There’s no way that this show knows how to do a relationship because they don’t want to get involved with that weird gray area.” and you know what? Maybe they can.

Like they’re doing it right now. Did they just need 4 seasons of people complaining to go “Fine! I’ll write out the problematic relationship! I’ll do it!” because--this works for them. They finally did it.

Now, I’m not saying it’s Oscar worthy or developed beyond a trope, I’m just saying I’m genuinely surprised to see it on this show, and they should have done it more often. It’s a super weird pairing, but way more interesting than like...all that time we spent with Serenity because I actually have something to look forward to. (which will be when Valon inevitably dies in a ball of tragic glory)

So many romance stories give me nothing to look forward to, y’all. You have to give me something. Like, I’ve been reading a lot of not great romance in my life, and you have to have some sort of time limit in place for me to care about your couple. To have only have so much time before the other person gets married, moves, ends the world--I don't care--but man that time limit is crucial and so much romance just...forgets.

Like Bonnie and Clyde, Romeo and Juliet, and other ill fated couples, Valon and Mai end up being interesting because we just love seeing people fall into pieces. Hell, I just finished watching Tiger King and damn, what makes that show so good is that you are just waiting on that time limit to see how bad it gets. (and it’s crazy, super recommend Tiger King, although it’s very clear that they pushed the drama a little beyond realism but man. Good TV.)

Of course there’s always the chance that maybe Valon just got bored. But, youknow.

Anyway, it IS a romance on Yugioh, so we do have to very quickly drive a truck through it.

Man.

What are they DOING here?

It took me kind of a while to remember that Mai would be going where Joey would be living, which is most likely where Raphael dropped off Arthur Hawkins. But, if you don’t remember that fact, this is the most random thing ever.

Like you got this huge ass desert in the Califorizonado mesas, and then BOOM enter Rebecca Hawkins, just omnisciently lording over all of the West and just so ready to fight you.

Every girl interested in Yugi Muto has this thing where they’re normally pretty chill and then they just snap and get angry as hell.

PS she’s in a different outfit now, but I don’t feel like changing her font color. I’ve had some Photoshop.......incidents.......and I don’t think I have this plaid pattern anymore and I don't feel like making a new one yet.

I mean Valon’s got the green outline on his text, so I figure we’re good.

Also, Rebecca wears a tie clip?

This 12 year old girl wears a tie clip.

And like don't get me wrong, this was 2003-4, alt rock was big, and yes, we did have tiny Avril Lavigne ties at American Eagle. I will admit that I very much considered getting an Avril Lavigne tie at one point in my life, but didn’t want the commitment of needing to pair it with a skirt.

But either way, old man tie clips aren’t alt rock. The only thing that makes Rebecca’s outfit not exactly that alt-grunge Avril Lavigne look is that tie clip. They were SO close to making her look cool. Just so close.

Also the bifocals. But anyway...

So Valon was going to straight up ignore Rebecca, because he has a warped sense of morality and will not kill a 12 year old (but will kill a 17 year old). But, Mai did ask nicely.

Thankfully, because of Valons weird sense of morality, he did not pull out the Oricalchos. Instead he pulled out...a new mechanic!

OK.

Fine, whatever. I don’t go over cards in this show so I don’t have to even worry about this.

And Rebecca and Duke freakin lost, because Duke is never allowed to win. Rebecca may have won if Duke didn’t join this battle with his ass luck, just throwing that out there.

And Mai is like “wow, Valon is doing a really good job. He’s right, he IS amazing”

and she bolts.

And back on the tracks, we see another group of our protagonists sprawled on the desert floor.

REALLY lucky that this train track only has one operating train that is currently out of commission because you should not lie down on a track like this. Probably goes without saying that this is a great way to die. But youknow...the world is also ending so sure, why not? Getting killed by a train is probably more pleasant than the Leviathan.

And then, because we MUST talk about commuting, lets see Kaiba’s commute on this huge ass very normal plane.

I know.

That’s just a normal ass plane.

Even Kaiba needs to take a break youknow? And maybe since he hallucinated last time he drove a plane he decided to just...not drive one for a while. Probably a good move.

On the way, we get to see Seto’s form of parental advice. It was weird.

Like in the actual dialogue of the show Seto is just SO CLOSE to giving good advice and then just slips in these chestnuts where it’s like...well that’s gonna be like 12 years of therapy for Mokuba in the future Seto, thanks for that.

Also lets welcome back Seto’s dueling jacket. Been a while, big sleeves.

Also, the Aurora Borealis has also hit the plane, which is very Twilight Zone of them.

...

Correct me if I’m wrong but Alister was in Dartz’ room during that convo with Mai.

like...just a few hours ago?

Was that a hologram of Alister in Dartz’ boardroom or did the animation team forget?

Oh Alister.

Also, I just want to point out that the same day Seto sent Roland out to fix his problems, was the same day that Kaiba got hella abducted, just a few hours later. Man, Roland. Turn around for like 2 minutes and Seto’s back into cards, they’re both abducted by cultists, and they’re both half-way across the world to California. It must be hard to be Roland.

Anyway, if you just got here this is a link to read the rest in chrono order. All four seasons.

Hope y’all are staying safe in this Pandemic time, goes without saying. Been a weird couple of weeks, but thankfully the internet is still here to help us all keep sanity.

[vendettacanons]

⚔️ Characterization Hour : Vaas ⚔️

// It’s been a hot minute since I posted anything and I’m sorry for that. My motivation inexplicably tanked this week. I’m feeling a little better now so I’ll get around to my inbox and replies soon. In the meantime, I’ve been playing a lot of Far Cry 3 and analyzing the characters (both to pick up one or two more and specifically to study things for ship ideas and characterization of Vaas specifically).

// Mind the tags for trigger warnings. Far Cry 3 is dark as shit.

// I noted this the first time I watched the cutscenes, but playing through the game and actually getting the full context firsthand really hit different; Citra openly says that Vaas was not always the way he is now. He wasn’t always so crazy. (Granted, both of them are crazy but I’m chalking that up to some idea about genetic things that I’ll talk about later.) She says he wasn’t always a fucking maniac- the drugs turned him into that. The drugs and the unforgiving harshness and cruelty Hoyt and his work demanded of him. She blames Hoyt for turning Vaas into what he is, and she’s right. She mentions that Vaas used to live with her and the Rakyat, and that he had some kind of birthright he ran away from (meaning Vaas is likely supposed to be the one leading the Rakyat and that’s another thing I’ll touch on in a bit.) After Hoyt discovered the islands and began trading drugs to the settlers in exchange for bodies, Vaas was one of the unlucky ones who ended up getting hooked. Hoyt took a liking to him, and put him in a downward spiral.

// There’s more to this though. It’s never explicitly stated how long Hoyt has been in the Rook Islands but we can draw a rough timeline. Not much is known about Hoyt’s upbringing, but it is known that he likely started young, killing his father and joining a criminal consortium before eventually taking it over for himself. No exact age is given, but I’d clock him at 20 then. Our biggest hint to that is a line that we get from him during his fight with Jason. He states “he’s been doing this since before [Jason] was born”. This is likely in reference to attempts made on his life by mutinous Privateers or Pirates. Jason is 25, so his business has lived for about 25 years, which makes sense given Hoyt himself is 45. He must have discovered the Rook Islands later on (thanks to his Pirate lackeys knowing the oceans so well) given that he states he has connections all over the world. I’d say he’s been on Rook for about 10 years, considering he has a whole foothold on the place and a giant satellite dish (which would take years to build by hand, especially when his men are incredibly varied and probably not all experienced in design and building, much less any of the locals). He’s definitely been sitting on the property for a long ass time.

// This makes sense considering Vaas and Citra lived and survived on the island as orphans for a long time- theyre part of the native population. Going by this timeline, Hoyt arrived when Vaas was 17. Perfect timing for him to get hooked onto drugs, abandon his birthright before he was set to receive it, and putting him at an ideal age to be easily manipulated by Hoyt into something evil and sadistic. He was following Hoyt’s example, the drugs just amplified the effect of his cruelty.

// Again this is all speculation and largely headcanon considering Far Cry 3 didn’t give us any solid hints at an actual timeline.

// Branching away from the why, I wanna talk about some headcanons I have about Vaas himself. It is very plain to see throughout the game that Vaas is not entirely bad. I mean, he is irredeemably awful, but there are some points that I want to draw attention to. He obviously cares very deeply for Citra. He mentions it often how he loved his sister and would do anything for her at some point, even kill, and in a conversation with Hoyt he sounds legitimately heartbroken that she is tattooing Jason and giving away his birthright like that. He seems to have this sober moment of clarity where he feels like his sister is replacing him based on how far gone he is. So obviously, part of his emotional instability is chalked up to Hoyt’s conditioning and drugs. But not all of it is.

// Part of Vaas’ mental instability comes fro mugs parents, and Citra is proof of that. There is literally nothing known about their parents, they were abdanoned as children. But both Vaas and Citra carry something from them: mental illness. It’s hard pinpoint exactly what kind, but addiction might very well be in the genetics. Why would Vaas, who was basically a prince capable of having anything he wanted brought to him at the snap of his fingers, turn to drugs? Unless one of his parents was an addict themselves which, again, very possible considering the island’s were likely discovered by the Pirates— meaning prior to Hoyt’s arrival, drugs were still being trafficked. That would account for why Vaas got hooked so quickly, while Citra showed a measure of restraint. However, Citra betrays other things that only genetics could account for. Because the environments they’re in are so vastly different. Both Citra and Vaas demonstrate developign strange obsessions and compulsions. Citra develops an irrational obsession with Jason after he finds an artifact (one that is important to her people granted, but how quickly and deeply she develops it is what makes it so concerning). Vaas just develops obsessions with fools who end up on the island in general— Chris, Jason, etc. In Vaas’ case, it’s hazardously exacerbated by the drugs but hey- Citra wasn’t exactly tame about how she handled it either. It’s impossible to tell what the defined cause of them being so unhinged with their obsessions is given how little else they show, but there’s definitely some common illness they likely inherited.

// And before I go any further, I just want to put a disclaimer that mental illness does not inherently make people evil or more likely to commit crimes or atrocities. That’s not the case at all and that is not what Citra and Vaas are meant to portray in canon or in my own writings. Mental illness is not the reason why both Citra and Vaas are fucked up as characters. Special conditioning to torture, abuse, and kill people, treating them like disposable toys, and violent drug addictions in Vaas’ case, or as a threat against them until proven otherwise/ indoctrinated into their sacred culture in Citra’s case, are. The fact that they may have inherited some type of mental illness from their parents developed as a result of Hoyt before he even showed and it’s gone completely unacknowledged or treated is just a catalyst.

// Anyways, what is the point of all this? Why did I do this characterization assessment? Well, this is basically a long-winded way of describing a new facet to my portrayal of Vaas. One that I’ve been looking for for a while now. With all of my characters, I try not to let them fall flat and be defined by one particular characteristic. In Vaas’ case, this is very difficult. He’s so all over the place and unpredictable that writing him is easy, but actually capturing the essence of him is hard because he is often only portrayed as being one thing: insane. But after playing the game for hours and carefully studying him, I found it really interesting how Vaas has all these “breaks in his insanity”. They mostly happen when he’s talking about family. His quiets up, he softens, and his act vanishes only to pop back up when something seemingly random sets him off again. But the fact he has these breaks at all, and the way he acts during them, implies that part of Vaas— the man that he was supposed to be, is still there. His entire persona is driven by a work and drug motivated impulse to be as destructive and chaotic as possible. And he is. He is cruel, evil, nasty, and wicked. But he’s also still capable of being gentle and loving like he was when he was with Citra. He shows he still loves his family. He even still carries some of their traditions, like calling everyone “brother” or “sister”. There are moments, rare as they are, where he is free from the demands of his work and his addictions aren’t gnawing at him. There are small moments of calm in the storm that he has become. It doesn’t erase or justify the destruction that he inevitably brings. But it does exist. Because Vaas is still a man after all. And he knows there is something really wrong with him. He’s not only guilty, he is tormented by it. He literally gets on his knees and begs Jason to kill him. He knows he’s fucked up. He’s just not strong enough to change.

// TL;DR: Hoyt’s been fucking shit up since before Vaas was born. This is all Hoyt’s fault. He’s the reason Vaas is an orphan, he’s the reason Vaas was mentally unstable even before he gave him drugs and forced him to abandon his birthright and work for him, he’s the reason Vaas is such a wicked little brute that destroy everything he touches. But there are brief moments where his facade cracks and reveals he’s still capable of being the gentle loving brother he once was. He still loves his sister very much and he feels very guilty for abandoning her. He knows there are things wrong with him and he knows he can’t correct them or finish himself off by his own hand, hence why he begs for death in the end. Thanks, Hoyt.

// Looking at it, this will definitely impact my portrayal of Vaas. Probably not by default, but definitely in terms of pre-established relationships and ships going forward. I’ll mention ahead of time that nobody except Hoyt, Citra, and Vaas really know the extent of what has happened to him. Buck does to a certain degree but he doesn’t have the full story. I’ll also say this does not change the fact that most of Vaas’ relationships that aren’t business related are going to be unhealthy or downright abusive, if not for a large portion of it than for all of it. Vaas has proven that he is not above threatening, manipulating, emotionally toying with, and physically hurting people. Especially those he develops obsessions with. He might be infatuated with someone, but his infatuations are far from pure and wholesome. And stemming from that, he is not one of those “fixable” villain types. Lots of love and understanding are not going to cure him. He is not going to go change overnight because someone was nice to him. In general, I dont see Vaas changing for anyone. He’s just too... stubborn and set in his way to do so. But if he does, it’ll require some hardcore chemistry and a metric fuckton of plotting (and probably a dead Hoyt but that’s neither here nor there).

// Anyway if you read this far, you’re awesome and I love you, thanks for coming to my TedTalk. ❤️