#or let him know I was crying because I was so worried

[mattnottrecs]

i know i’m biased when it comes to this au (aka my favorite ever), but this was so fucking amazing i’m gagged (in a good way). like always, how can you be so good at everything? 😡

"hey, you gotta sit still f'me or you won't survive this, a'ight?" the masked man holding a gun in front of you hisses through his teeth, his deep, intense voice muffled as he spreads your legs.

this has barely begun and i’m already crying on the floor. the imagery is so real, plus i would be like a dog in heat if he said this to me (even more with a gun in his hand) 👩‍🦯

"not that i care."

i’m sorry but i actually love mean mattheo 😔

under the mask

he’s wearing a mask??????? bye %#*%#^ and *%$@

he then unexpectedly pushes the gun into your soaked hole, the action anything but gentle-

one more time—the imaginary is amazing

i really want to talk about this, because it’s so real. i love that he’s everything but gentle during sex, plus THE GUN. i would 💦💦💦💦 so fast, he would hit me (amen)

"poor thing, your heart is beating so fast... don't worry. i'll be careful, princess."

"but uh, i just can't control these shaky hands sometimes... what a shame it would be if my finger slipped and accidentally pulled the trigger."

son. of. a. bitch. idk if i want to fuck him or kill him—maybe BOTH.

also i’m curious to know what would happen—so i might let him 🦭 ari you’re the best when it comes to dialogue during sex

before you can protest, he roughly drags the gun nearly out of your cunt,

"ah ah ah; be a good girl f'me and keep those pretty legs spread, yeah?" he orders, shaking his masked head in disapproval as his hand increases its pace.

for a moment, i was sad, but then the sadness ran away from my body and boom, i was back to being a bitch in heat—still can’t get over that he’s wearing a mask—my legs don’t approve of this, but you know what else does 🤲🏻

anyways, final review: 5 ⭐️ like always, because i genuinely can’t point out anything bad. i was hooked from the beginning until the end

i’m a purge au truther 🦭

FIFTEEN. gunplay — the purge au mattheo riddle

warnings — smut 18+. dubcon. gunplay (mattheo fucks reader with his gun). mask kink. purge night. you are responsible for your own media consumption.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

“hey, you gotta sit still f’me or you won’t survive this, a’ight?” the masked man holding a gun in front of you hisses through his teeth, his deep, intense voice muffled as he spreads your legs. you’re unsure what he wants from you after breaking into your house on purge night, but you fear the worst as you tremble beneath him, gazing up at him through eyelashes with fat tears threatening to fall from your waterline.

“not that i care.” he mutters under his breath, raking the barrel over your exposed cunt, your ripped panties already tossed to the floor. you’re trembling in fear, your brows furrowed in nervousness, yet, you still can’t help but feel somewhat turned on? and he notices it too, chuckling lowly under the mask as his brown eyes are drawn to your dripping pussy.

he then unexpectedly pushes the gun into your soaked hole, the action anything but gentle— the sharp edges of the hard metal make you instinctively clench even tighter around it, as you scream out in both pain and pleasure. you don’t have to see his face to know that he’s smirking behind the mask, relishing in the fear and pain radiating off you.

his head dips closer, the heavy, muffled breaths through the mask only frightening you more.

“poor thing, your heart is beating so fast… don’t worry. i’ll be careful, princess.” you feel a sense of relief at his unexpectedly caring words, spoken in such a soothing manner— but that false sense of relief doesn’t last long.

“but uh, i just can’t control these shaky hands sometimes… what a shame it would be if my finger slipped and accidentally pulled the trigger.”

your eyes widen as the masked man chuckles wickedly. you can see his erection clearly now, and it’s almost as if he’s getting harder the more fear he sees on your pretty face.

before you can protest, he roughly drags the gun nearly out of your cunt, before pushing it back inside, causing you to whimper uncomfortably at the unusual feeling. you instinctively try to close your legs, but he catches on immediately, grabbing your inner thigh and pushing it open until your muscles ache from the stretch.

“ah ah ah; be a good girl f’me and keep those pretty legs spread, yeah?” he orders, shaking his masked head in disapproval as his hand increases its pace. the gun painfully drags against your walls, but still, your wetness drips down the cold metal and all over his hands, the slick sounds of your wet pussy echoing through your ominously dark room.

“tsk… such a dirty fuckin’ slut, huh? turns out i broke into the right house tonight. and if you’re lucky, i might just return next year…”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[wandixx]

Danny the Young Justice member

“Hey, like, hypothetically, do you think Justice League could pay me if I became hero full time?”

It shaped out to be pretty long and boring stake-out, with rest of Team scattered around but connected with Mindlink, so it seemed like best moment to ask. It wasn’t something Danny wanted to do, but it shaped out to be his only chance to get any future. He cried over it enough times already, so there was even a chance he won’t breakdown trying to discuss it out in the semi-public. He wanted to keep it as calm and rational as he could and hey, if something started to get too emotional, he could say he saw some suspicious movement and fly off to fight someone. Really, it was perfect situation.

“How hypothetical is this question?” Robin asked after a beat of silence. It was quiet and careful, like he was afraid to set him off if he said something wrong or he did it wrong way. It made skin on his back crawl. Danny knew he was a bit more volatile lately, but he really hoped special treatment would stop soon.

“Hypothetical”

“Okay, let’s say we don’t know it’s a lie”

“Unnecessary” Artemis coughed.

“C’mon it kinda was–”

“Can someone just answer my fucking question?”

“I don’t think so. Batman is the one doing most of the funding, and he is really stubborn about school and future. He wants us all to have chance at normal life outside of this hero villain business with regular job and stuff”

That didn’t bode well, but Danny hadn’t got this far by losing hope whenever first obstacle occurred.

“But I could be ready whenever disaster strikes or some villain attacks or really whenever it’s necessary and I wouldn’t need to escape any civilian stuff,” he may have gotten a bit desperate along this little rant, but he just pushed through “It always takes precious minutes and–”

“It doesn’t really seem to be hypothetical anymore,” Wally interrupted and he was lucky to be on different roof, because Danny, he sworn to ancients, would strangle him if redhead was any closer.

He was very adamant about not thinking about how his last ideas of surviving to adulthood started crumbling. He promised himself to not have breakdown in the open.

He wasn’t going to.

It was fine.

He would figure something out. He always did.

“Danny?”

“It’s fine Meg, don’t worry”

“Can we ask what brought this hypothetical on your mind? You’ve always were the most assured that you’ll stop being hero at some point and move on”

Bless Kaldur to always know when to ask best-worst question. Danny wasn’t going to cry, so he wasn’t going to answer.

“We can’t help you if we don’t what’s wrong,” M’gann said softly, like she was just trying to remind him.

Something small hit his lap. A tear. When did it get here?

“It’s fine. It’s just a stupid thought”

“Okay. Tell us when you’re ready”

“Something suspicious is going on, I think it’s what we’re looking for,” Everyone needed Conner on their squad to get conversation back on not emotional track.

As it turned out it was indeed what they were looking for, and soon Danny got to express all of his pent up aggression in only a bit misplaced way.

“That was harsh”

“Shut up, this one doesn’t have pain receptors”

“Phantom has a bad day, huh?”

“You’re about to have worse,” he growled and punched guy until he stopped grinning.

It was quick work after that.

“Danny?”

Only bad side of Mindlink was that he couldn’t act like he was losing connection. It would be useful right now.

“Danny?”

“Not now”

“In the Bioship then. Not a minute later, am I clear?”

“Crystal”

He started calculating a way to get out before. He used to do it all the time, at the beginning. It was easier when Team didn’t know about his human side and they were holding each other at the arms length, but still. He could–

Conner landed right behind him and put hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t restrain, it wasn’t assuring. It was just there.

Here came his plans of escape.

“So–” Artemis started as soon as the door of Ship had closed “– what the fuck is wrong with you lately?”

“We all know it’s not nothing”

“I’m being overdramatic”

“About what?”

Danny just slumped forward and his face in hands.

“Danny”

“I have to retake year. I’m not even half way through highschool and I’m already failing and I- I just can’t do better. It’s not like I don’t have time to study, and I do try sometimes, but just as often I’m just being dumb and messing around, and I knew I failed some other tests, but last one? Last one I was sure I’ve got it, I was trying, I was trying so hard and I still fucked it up and if I can’t make it even when- even when I’m trying my best, then what is the point?”

He took a moment to breathe, to rub tearing eyes. He still wasn’t going to cry.

“I’m already kinda good at this hero thing, so I could just keep it up. I don’t think I’ll make it to the end of high school, so no good job for me, but maybe I could. I could have something, you know. Something useful. Something good. Maybe I can have some life after all”

Someone rubbed his back but he didn’t raise his head to see who.

“I didn’t want to let accident destroy any more of my life than it did, but I don’t think I can”

“Well, impossible sounds right about the task for us. We’ve got you”

Well fuck. That’s about that in not crying department.

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

He gets me so high

ty to that one anon who gave me the idea for this

tecnically this takes place between parts 4 and 5

so i guess this would be part 4.5?

anon ily for givijg me this idea

kind of a short chapter lol

You got into an argument earlier.

It wasn't over anything serious, you don't even remember what it was about.

All you remember is Damian telling you you weren't worthy of being part of his father's bloodline.

That stung a little.

You tried defending yourself and telling the others in hopes of others taking your side.

Only for everyone to take his.

"He's had a hard life," Dick said to you, still looking at Damian.

"So have I!" went unsaid, as you put your head down and looked at the floor.

It isn't fair!

It isn't fair how he walked away Scott free smirking as if he won!

It isn't fair how you were the only one scolded by Alfred and Bruce for arguing!

It isn't fair how you ran to your room to cry!

It isn't fair how you had no one on your side!

You needed someone on your side.

After a while of sobbing on your pillow (which was now wet), you felt your phone buzz and your ringtone go off. You were getting a call from Hobie.

It wasn't rare for him to call you, all of the spider-kids call each other at random times of the day to just talk about whatever.

One time you called them all at 3 am because you thought of a dumb invention that 'could change lives', only for Gwen to tell you it already existed, and didn't change lives.

One time, Miles called you to tell you he got 100 on his physics test.

One time, Hobie called you because he didn't know how long he should cook something in the microwave.

One time, Peni called you to tell you how she accidentally bought 3 copies of the same book. Again.

One time, Gwen called you at 1 am to ask if you could dye her hair again since her hair dye was fading again.

One time, Pavitr called you to ask which Valentine's gift he should give Gayatri since he was stuck between two options. He ended up choosing both gifts for her.

It was normal for everyone to call anyone for any reason.

You tried to wipe your tears and clear your voice so you could pretend you were fine, and you picked up the phone to talk to him.

As soon as you picked up, he started rambling about how his day went.

You didn't mind calling him, it took your mind off things.

Hobie felt something was off. Sure, you were listening to him intently, but you usually had your camera on and played with stupid filters while he talked. You didn't have your camera on like usual.

He decided to not bring it up and just let you tell him when you were ready.

"Anywho, I bought around 54 boxes of Girl Scout cookies-" Hobie said, while holding up a box of Thin Mints to the camera

"why did you buy 54??" you said in disbelief, your voice slightly cracking, which you cringed at.

"Don't worry about it." you laughed a little at that.

"Keep your window open, I'm on my way." you saw him start walking on camera

"Why?" you asked

"Get ready, we're going out," he said while grabbing 5 boxes of the Girl Scout cookies.

He hung up before explaining anything.

You got up from your bed and decided to fix yourself up a bit before he came over.

You redid your makeup because it smeared while you were crying.

After 5 minutes, you heard a knock on your window.

You went to see what it was, and Hobie was knocking at your window looking a little stupid.

You unlocked it and opened the window.

"I thought you were gonna unlock it?" Hobie said already looking around your room and making himself at home.

He and the others have come over a lot, it's somewhat surprising that none of your family noticed.

"I forgot!" you said while shrugging your shoulders. It wasn't a lie, you did forget.

"You're always forgetting, never remembering," Hobie said, lying on your comfy bed.

"Okay so I forget a couple of times and suddenly I'm always forgetful, I dye Gwen's hair and cut my own, does that make me a barber?" you said, dramatically before flopping onto your bed next to Hobie.

"So, what's got you all miffed?" he asked while playing around with a plushie that was on your bed.

"What do you mean?" you sat up to look at him in confusion.

"Miffed: somewhat annoyed; peeved," Hobie explained.

"No, not about what miffed means, I know what that means, but what do you mean?" you asked, tilting your head slightly.

"I mean, you look pissed, what happened?" he asked, while playing around with a volleyball he got from who knows where.

You started fidgeting with your hands. "Well, me and Damian got into an argument earlier. I don't even remember what it was about. He said I wasn't worthy of Bruce's blood. Which honestly did hurt a little. What really pissed me off was how no one took my side. How no one defended me. How no one checked up on me after I ran to my room and cried." A tear ran down your cheek. You couldn't tell if it was from anger or sadness.

Hobie sat up and cleared the tear away from your cheek. "C'mon Tinkerbell, let's get outta here," He said, while getting up and stretching.

"And go where?" you got up as well.

"Anywhere. It's clear everyone here is bonkers." He started walking towards your window.

"Okay, just gimmie a sec!" You ran to grab your wallet and phone and followed him out the window.

You were now atop the bat signal, next to Hobie.

After raiding a gas station for its snacks (which you knew Alfred would never approve of) you guys were just sitting down in silence.

It was pretty nice, you were leaning on Hobie as he lit up what you thought was a cigarette.

Turns out it wasn't. You realized as soon as the smell of weed hit you.

You watched as he passed you the blunt, "Want a hit?"

You hesitated for a moment. What would your family think about this?

Hobie saw you hesitating, and not wanting to make you uncomfortable said "Don't do it if you don't want to."

You decided to do it.

Fuck what your family thinks about this.

Fuck your family. Fuck them all. Fuck Damian, fuck Dick, fuck Jason, fuck Bruce, and fuck Alfred.

They didn't care, they didn't defend you, they don't notice you, why would they notice or care about this?

They were probably dressed in their stupid spandex costumes beating people up.

A long time ago you longed and begged to be one of them.

What is the worst that can happen anyway?

"pass me it."

Hobie then taught you how to do it. It was a bit scary for you, you haven't ever smoked or done weed or anything before.

You took a hit and immediately started coughing.

"You alright there, luv?" You gave him a thumbs up before taking a couple more hits and getting a hang of it.

You guys started devouring the snacks and telling dumb stories.

You fell off due to jumping to the light from the batsignal suddenly turning on and scaring you. You laughed when Hobie had to pick you up from the rooftop.

You could stay like this forever, just you and your big brother.

hi guys heres some fluff and angst

i feel like since writing these silly little stories my writing has gotten a tiny bit better

im not sure tho

anyways anon ty again i loved writing this

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!):@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213

[sammyluvr]

✶ safe now — sam & dean w.

cw : gn!winchester!reader, hurt/comfort, reader is the youngest sibling, blood, injury & pain, implied torture, nicknames (bud), poorly edited, no y/n, 1.4K words. requested !

summary : your brothers rescue you after you're kidnapped and tortured by demons.

there’s a moment where everything is quiet. maybe it’s minutes. hours, perhaps. you don’t really know, because nothing makes sense anymore. up and down don’t mean much to you. and you can’t tell if everything hurts, if it burns, or if you can’t feel anything at all.

then, it’s not quiet anymore. it’s loud, and yet, it’s muffled. you can’t distinguish one sound from another. a crash and a yell, maybe even a scream. more crashing, but it all sort of sounds the same, so you’re not the most reliable narrator.

but there’s something familiar in it all. the clamor, the fighting, you think it must be. the shout of a word that you know to be your own somehow, and the blurred shape in front of your barely open eyes. it’s your name, you realize. the shouted sound was your name, far away. it’s not far away anymore, murmured and panicked, and the face in front of you, going in and out of focus, is sam’s.

oh, sam. you hope it’s really him. that means this is all over.

and then you decide that you can feel and everything does hurt, because there are hands wrapping around you from behind. they frighten and confuse you at first, but before you can thrash away or cry for sam to help, dean’s voice is in your ears and you don’t fight it.

“i got you,” he says simply, soothing you without any effort at all. he’s holding you up so you don’t fall once sam unties you from where you’re strung up by the wrists, like the carcass of a slaughtered farm animal. you try not to whimper. it would embarrass you. it’s hard, though, because his strong hold is aggravating the cuts and bruises that litter your bore torso. you wonder if his hands are warm or cold, but you can’t really tell despite the fact that your skin there is exposed. you were stripped of your shirt, you think.

sam’s talking too, voice so gentle that the sound of it is the most calming part. you’re sure he’s saying comforting words, but it’s hard to focus on more than one thing at a time. his hands work quickly to free you, and then you’re slumped back against dean’s chest. your legs aren’t working all that well right now.

dean’s hold is awkward and you can sag forward, right into sam. dean lets him take you, his hands itching for his weapon. there could be more demons and he’s got to protect you. he’s the one with the demon knife.

you can imagine the dead bodies in the hallway, the vessels of all the demons who were guarding the place. but you don’t see them, your eyes having drifted closed and your head tucked away into sam’s neck. dean must be leading the way, ready to kill for you as many times as he must today, and forever.

but all the demons have been disposed of. no one gets in the way, and they carry you right out to the car. sam helps you into the back seat with him and it hurts like hell to move at all, but the smell of leather puts you at ease, finally. you’re still so out of it, oblivious to sam’s face that doesn’t bother to hide the worry and the pain of seeing you like this. you’re oblivious to the fact that dean can barely look at you, horrified by the thought that he could’ve prevented this, maybe. it wasn’t his fault that you were snatched away in the night, but both brothers will blame themselves.

you were hungry, so dean left for food. and then, the motel room felt stuffy, so you went to take a walk just around the parking lot. sam didn’t get into the shower like he planned to, waiting at the creaky table for you to come back. and when you were gone for more than five minutes—sam knew you’d get cold quickly because you ignored his advice to grab a jacket—he went out to look for you. you were gone, so he called dean, searched for you. dean got back and yelled at sam. how could you leave them alone? dean was asking himself the same question.

“hey, look at me,” sam says, voice pleading. you aren’t very responsive, and it terrifies him. the car is already moving, you realize. your eyes find his and you feel his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling your arm through the sleeve of his jacket. everything hurts so much that you never realized that you’re cold. where there isn’t blood, sam can see goosebumps. he’s gentle as he pulls the fabric around you, trying to keep you warm without hurting you any further. “there you are,” he murmurs.

“you’re fine, bud,” dean says from the front seat, voice tense as he splits his attention between the road and checking on you through the rearview mirror. when he can’t look, he’s listening. you let out a sound, meant to acknowledge them both. your awareness sharpens, and so does your pain.

“i’m fine,” you mumble back, voice flat and quiet. even sam can barely hear it, but dean catches the words too. “it’s all fine. i– i didn’t say anything. i didn’t say anything.” dean glances back, and sam looks at you in confusion.

“you didn’t say anything?” he repeats softly, trying to understand what you mean.

you give a jerky nod of your head. then you shake it the other way. “didn’t say anything,” you say again, “about the tablet. they wanted to know, but i didn’t say anything.” your voice is breathy and tired, and you’re mumbling so much that sam can barely make out what you’re saying. but he understands now, why you were taken. the tablet; you mean the demon tablet. the demons took you to get information on the demon tablet, thinking they could break the youngest winchester. 

of course, they couldn’t, but the thought boils his blood with fury. that anyone thinks they can use you for something like that. or that they think you’re a weak link, just because you’re the youngest. or maybe it was to cause the most chaos, the most panic. to mess with you is to raise hell. that’s what demons are for, of course, but they were stupid enough to think it wouldn’t just get them all killed.

“they took you for that?” dean growls, his voice dangerously vicious, “the fucking demon tablet?”

“the demon tablet,” you breathe out, your less bruised cheek finally falling to sam’s shoulder with exhaustion. he tucks you even closer into his side. “i didn’t say anything, though.”

“we know,” sam murmurs, wanting to ease your anxiety. his heart aches that you think the stupid tablet is the most imortant thing here. you’re bleeding all over his jacket and practically delirious from pain. you’re all that he and dean care about right now. “we know. we don’t have to worry about that now, okay?”

“mhmm,” you hum, “cuz they still don’t know where it is.” your voice is so hoarse. as if you’d been screaming. presumably, you had been, and that makes your brothers see red. dean’s grip on the wheel is knuckle-whitening, and sam is only able to be gentle for your sake. his shoulders hold all of the tension just like they hold up your trembling body. the car almost swerves before dean has to force his thoughts away from what you might’ve endured. he’s all too familiar with demon torture. he thinks about killing the demons who hurt you over again.

sam thinks about it too, but just for a moment. “yeah. and because you’re safe now,” he tells you firmly. 

“safe now,” you echo softly. everything hurts. the pain is bone-deep, but you believe him when he tells you that you’re safe now. “i knew you’d come get me,” you mutter, eyes never staying open for longer than a moment or two. you look as tired as you sound. maybe that’s what got you through it; the knowledge that it would be over, one way or another. either your brothers would come to rescue you and kill your captors, or you’d die first. they certainly would’ve still killed all those demons if that were to happen, and probably many, many more. but no one likes to think about that.

because you’re safe now.

[blxxmingrose]

hans felt his body relax even further, the lightness of the moment and the conversation making it easy for him to release a chuckle in response to june. he did not mind being cheesy, not when it made june smile. and in return, it made him smile even more, his heart feeling like it was warming up from the inside. 

“you might even answer, you say?” he continued in the same lighthearted tone, his eyebrows raised in a challenge as his hand focused on the way june’s gentle touches made him feel so alive. “you have other more important calls to answer?” there was no real question there, just more teasing, just something to prolong the night until they had absolutely no choice but to go to sleep. 

he would stay up all night if he could. he wouldn’t move even tomorrow if that was possible. hans remembered the sleepless nights he’d had when sunny was a newborn, but those were different. those were borne out of necessity, of him needing to be there for every cry, of him taking care of the most important person in his life. he also recalled the tightening in his chest as he watched sunny fast asleep, his mind filled with worries about whether she would wake up in a fit or needing someone who was not there. hans doubled down on being present because he never wanted sunny to feel that absence. it was why he was quick to worry when sunny got attached, when sunny looked for june to make sure he was there, to make sure everything was as they should be.

the bittersweet thought of june promising to stay, to always be here, made hans smile, not just for sunny, but also for himself. 

just like his daughter, he wanted june to be around--forever, if possible. a part of their life from now on, whether there was snow keeping him here or not. but for now, all he could do was tug him gently closer, whispering, “is it bad i want the snow to be so thick tomorrow that you can’t go? i know it’s not the most responsible thing, but…” he trailed off, letting the words settle between them.

but of course, the responsible side of his brain soon kicked in and he laughed. "i feel like a kid having his favorite food and never wanting the moment to end. i just haven't felt like this in a while. you're a breath of fresh air and i can't stop breathing."  

june felt his own pulse stutter, something warm and tingly creeping up the back of his neck as hans guided his hand over his heart. he could feel the steady rhythm beneath his palm, solid and sure, like proof that this moment was real.

it was overwhelming in a way he hadn’t expected. not in a bad way — it had never in a bad way — but in a way that made his chest feel tight, like he was holding something too big to fit inside him.

hans spoke so easily, like it was something obvious, something simple. but june couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said something like that to him. not just in a passing kind of way, but in a way that meant something. his fingers twitched slightly over hans’ chest, pressing just a little closer, just enough to feel the sincerity in his words. “yeah,” he murmured, his lips curving into something soft. “that was really cheesy.” but it didn’t stop the warmth from spreading, from settling deep into his bones, from making him want to stay in this moment as long as possible.

his gaze flickered up to meet hans’, and for a second, june just looked at him. at the way the tv light reflected in his eyes, at the way he held june’s hand like he didn’t want to let go. “you don’t have to do that,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now, like the words weren’t fully formed until they left his lips. “keep me here, i mean.” his fingers shifted slightly, not pulling away, just adjusting, grounding himself. “i’m not going anywhere.”

it wasn’t a promise, not really. promises could be broken. promises could be left behind. this was a choice. a truth spoken in the quiet of the night, wrapped in the space between them, in the way their hands stayed pressed together like neither of them wanted to be the first to let go.

a small breath of laughter slipped past his lips, and june tilted his head slightly, his smile turning a little lopsided. “but if you wanna call me every chance you get, i won’t stop you.” his thumb brushed against hans’ skin, light and fleeting. “might even answer.”

[darlingdaisyfarm]

This honestly might be a downer or stupid, but I just got fired and I am having a really hard time. I just want to bury my head in Stan's chest and sob. I was wondering if you could write how the Stan and Ford might react to the reader being suddenly fired and maybe how they'd comfort them? I'm also really excited for the next chapter of your fic!

✧˚⋆ Stan & Ford supporting you when you need it most ⋆｡♡˚

oh sweetheart, im so sorry ur going through this, holy shit. just the moment i received this ask, i knew i had to write smth when ill get free time today, because i feel so sorry for you. i hope these two old men gave u even a tiny bit of comfort, please be kind to urself right now, youre gonna get through this, i promise. sending u all my love !! stay strong please 🫂🫂

STANLEY

the thing about Stan is that he gets it. he gets the feeling of being chewed up and spat out, of having doors slam in your face, of working your ass off and still being told you’re not enough. he gets the quiet humiliation, the bitterness in the back of your throat, the way your hands shake when you try to act like it doesn’t matterm

you don’t even remember how you got here. your feet must’ve carried you through the streets, past strangers whose lives weren’t just ruined, past cars honking, past buildings that still stood while the whole world inside you had collapsed.

“hey, hey. what the hell, sweetheart, breathe, alright? you’re okay, you’re right here.” his rough but worried voice reaches you when you slam mystery shack's door open, standing in the doorway with shaking hands, red-eyed.

“i got fired, Stan. j-just gone, outta nowhere. i don’t know what to do, Stan, im so lost.” your throat burns

before you can say anything else, he's opening his arms. “c'mere.” and you don't even hesitate as you crash into him like a wave, burying your face in his chest. and he holds you, one big arm wrapping around your back, the other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head

“there we go. you don’t gotta keep it all in, sweetheart.” the words hit you harder than you expect. you're so used to holding it together, to swallowing everything down, to being strong. and Stan, who’s built himself up from nothing, who’s taken every punch life threw at him and still kept standing, he’s telling you it’s okay to break.

so you do. you bury your face in his chest and cry until you’re dizzy, until your breath stutters and shakes, until all the anger and hurt and fear bleed out of you. Stanley doesn’t rush you or tell you to stop. “let it out, sweetie, s’gonna be okay.” he holds you close tightly because he’s spent his whole life holding people who needed it more than he did.

“it’s not fair,” you gasp, clutching on his clothes.

“no, it ain’t.”

“i worked so hard.”

“i know.”

“i feel like—like nothing i do is enough—”

Stan tightens his hold, pressing his chin to the top of your head. “hey. you listen to me.” his voice turns serious. “some suit in an office makin’ a crap decision got nothing to do with who you are. they're dumb. absolute morons for lettin’ you go. betcha the whole place is gonna fall apart without you because you were the best thing about that shithole. if they couldn’t see that, then screw ‘em. they lost you. not the other way around.”

you shake your head, clenching your fists. “but—“

“no buts,” he growls and then, softer: “you're not trash just ‘cause some idiots don’t know how to treat their workers. you're not worthless just ‘cause some suits decided you were expendable. you are not nothing.”

Stan pulls back to tip your chin up, making sure you’re listening. his thumb wipes a tear off your cheek. “i mean, you still got me, sweetheart. ain’t no job in the world that could change that.” he smiles genuinely at you.

you close your eyes, giving him a tiny sad smile back. you let yourself breathe, let yourself believe it, hiding your face in his chest again. Stan's grip stays strong and unshaking, shielding you from the whole world as you cry until you’re too tired, so all what you do is sob into his chest. you’re just leaning into him, exhausted, letting him hold you up.

Stan sighs, resting his cheek against your hair. “ya ever heard the story of the biggest screw-up in New Jersey?”

you sniffle. “what?”

”lemme tell ya, kid grows up in a house that don’t want him. gets kicked out. loses every job he ever had. ends up in a broken-down shack in the middle of nowhere. total loser.”

you shift against him. “Stan—“

“but he keeps goin’. and somehow, somehow, that dumbass loser ends up with people who love him. ends up holdin’ someone who needs it. ends up tellin’ the best damn person he’s ever met that they’re gonna be okay.”

he lets you lean into him again, lets you breathe him in, lets you stay as long as you need. tells you stories about all the bosses he’s scammed just to make you laugh.

at some point, when the tears have slowed and the weight in your chest isn’t crushing anymore, Stan ruffles your hair and leans back, arms crossed.

“y’know, i could use an extra set of hands around the shack.“

you blink up at him, sniffing. “what? you. . .you want me to work here?”

“yeah, id rather have someone i actually like workin’ here instead of hiring some random kid who’s just gonna rob me blind.” his usual gruff tone is back, but his gaze is what speaks louder, soft and certain, making it obvious that you belong here.

you open your mouth, but he cuts in, pointing a finger at you. “and before ya say some crap about not bein’ good enough or whatever, shut up. i’m the boss, i decide who’s good enough, and i say it’s you.”

you let out a shaky laugh, wiping your nose. “wow, such a heartfelt offer.”

he smirks. “hey, that’s as heartfelt as it gets, sweetheart. but seriously. think about it, okay? i got a spot for ya.” Stanley is not just offering a job for you, he’s offering a place, a place where you’re wanted, where you’re needed, where you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.

you take a deep breath, feeling lighter for the first time all day. “yeah. yeah, i’ll think about it.”

“good,” Stan smiles and ruffles your hair again. “now, wanna eat somethin’? watch a dumb movie? beat me at cards? or you want me to egg their car?” about the last thing, he's joking, probably. but if you say yes, you know he’ll do it.

STANFORD

Ford finds you sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed on the surface, face buried in them. you haven’t moved and spoken in a while, just sat there, motionless, like a puppet with the strings cut.

he clears his throat, stepping closer. “i, ah. noticed you didn’t come in for dinner.”

you don’t respond. his brows knit together, concern creasing his forehead. he takes the seat across from you, folding his hands on the table. “would you like to talk about it?”

for a moment, nothing. then, muffled: “i got fired.” slips from your mouth. so that's what happened. Ford doesn’t say oh. doesn’t say im sorry. doesn’t say what happened? he understands you because Ford Pines knows what it is to be discarded. he knows what it is to dedicate yourself to something, only to be told you are wrong. to be shoved out, unmoored, drifting in the space between who you thought you were and who they’ve decided you are now.

he knows what it is to look down at his hands and wonder if they are still meant to build something. after being betrayed.

he frowns thoughtfully. “that was. . . rather sudden, wasn’t it?”

you nod weakly. Ford exhales through his nose, gaze sharpening, analyzing. you. your sadness. the whole situation.

“it must feel unfair.“ he doesn’t just acknowledge the loss, but the injustice of it. and it makes your throat close up.

you lift your head slightly, looking at his face. “it- it is. i tried so hard. i put so much effort into that stupid job, and now it’s just—just gone.”

Ford hums. “tell me something.” he leans forward, putting elbows on the table. “do you think your value was in the work you did?”

you blink at him, but he doesn't even let you answer. “because if that were the case, then the moment you lost that job, you would have lost all worth as a person. but that’s not true, is it?” his voice is always so calm, full of absolute certainty.

you shake your head slowly, unsurely and Ford nods, satisfied. then, after a brief pause, he stands. “wait here” you don’t have the energy to question him. you just sit, staring blankly at the tabletop, until he returns a moment later with a notebook and pen.

he places them in front of you.

you glance up, confused. “what’s this for?”

Ford takes his seat again, tapping a finger against the cover. “do me a favor, darling. write down five things about yourself that have nothing to do with your job.”

your face looks tired and skeptical. you stare at the paper. “Ford, i—“

“anything,” he says softly, smiling at you. “everything. what you love. what you’re good at. what excites you, what makes you feel something. what matters to you.”

your fingers tighten around the pen. at first, you don’t know where to start. but Ford doesn’t rush you, just patiently sits beside you.

so you write. you write about the things that make you you. and at first, it feels stupid and awkward. it starts small, your favorite books, your favorite songs, the way you love thunderstorms, the way you always make extra coffee just in case someone else wants some.

but then it gets bigger. the things you’ve created. the things you’ve learned. the times you were kind when no one was looking. the people who love you, who see you. the way you keep going, even when it’s hard

Ford watches as you write, nodding approvingly at each entry.

“now tell me: did losing your job take any of that away?”

you stare at the words. the little pieces of yourself you hadn’t even thought about in the wake of everything. softly, you shake your head

Ford’s expression gentles. “then you’re still you. and you’re still worth just as much as you were yesterday. because no job, no institution, no single event defines you.” you swallow hard. Fords voice drops lower. “you are more than what you do, more than what you produce, more than what some company decides you’re worth. you are your thoughts. your curiosity. your kindness.” he gestures to the list. “you are all of this and nothing can take that from you.”

your breath wobbles. Ford’s gaze softens further. “come here, sweetheart.“ you hesitate but only for a second, then stand and he meets you halfway, arms wrapping around you. and Ford isn’t Stanley, isn’t someone used to giving big, open, thoughtless affection. but what he lacks in ease, he makes up for in intent.

because he means this. his big hand moves up and down your back slowly. “you’re not alone in this,” he murmurs into your hair. “we’ll figure something out. and until then. . . you are still extraordinary.“ his voice is so certain, and suddenly you don’t feel quite as lost.

“th-thank you” you bury your face in his sweater, hands gripping his sleeves

“and don’t let anyone ever tell you you aren’t smart or brave or worthy enough.”

you stay there a while. until Ford gives your shoulder one last squeeze and pulls back, adjusting his glasses. “now. i assume you haven’t eaten?”

you smile at him, shaking your head. “no, wasn't in the mood.“

“come, sweetheart, let’s fix that.”

[lanadelrafe]

Ok so why is no one talking about mob boss! Rafe LIKE HELLO. I think we’re gonna need more🫶🏼

as much as they fight, mob wife!reader can’t sleep until she knows rafe is safe.

— tw: mentions of a gun, attempted sexual assault, murder, blood.

— author’s note: i’m so glad people actually like this au! i know it’s not all sunshine and rainbows but i’m under the impression that being a mob wife isn’t that great. but they actually kinda like each other in this one.

there was a break in once when rafe was out doing god knows what. mw!reader was home alone with no protective detail. had there not been multiple men who rushed around, breaking things, she would’ve put those training sessions to work and defended herself. instead, she called rafe and locked herself in their shared closet. rafe hurried home, gun loaded and ready to be used. she could hear the shots even from her hiding spot. once it got quiet, she began panicking because she had no clue whether it meant rafe was alive or not. she heard the sound of the door knob being turned and she held her breath. when the door didn’t open, whoever was behind it began to jiggle the knob it abruptly.

she knew right then and there that it wasn’t rafe.

the only thing she had to defend herself were her heels. the memory of the incident at the club flashed in her mind. she grabbed a single heel and held it up, ready for the attack. when the masked stranger finally broke down the door, she lunged at him. he struggled for a moment, bleeding from his scalp, before he managed to pin her arms to her sides and flip her onto her stomach. she laid flat against the floor, thrashing and trying to break her wrists free from his hold.

the moment she felt his grubby hands push up the oversized t-shirt she was wearing was when she really started to freak out. she started screaming and threw her head back against his nose. she heard a crunch and a pained groan. he released her and she took the opportunity to crawl out from underneath him. she didn’t make it far when he grabbed her by her ankles and dragged her body towards him. he flipped her onto her back and she scratched at his face, beginning to cry. “get off of me!” she shrieked. she pushed off his mask and gasped when she saw the bone sticking out of his crooked, bloody nose.

he grinned down at her. “don’t worry sweetheart. it’ll be something you’re used to.” he was pressed against her core while her legs were on either side of his waist. he reached down to yank her panties off, laughing deeply.

before anything else happened, they both heard a whistle. she stopped her cries, craning her neck to see where the noise came from. rafe stood at the door, leaning against the frame while cradling his bloody arm against his chest. he pointed his gun in their direction and pulled the trigger. the bullet hit straight between the stranger’s eyes, blood splattering onto mw!reader’s face. she let out a choked sob and shoved his lifeless body off of her.

she stood up and ran into rafe’s arms. he groaned at the impact, having been shot in his shoulder. but nonetheless, he pushed through the pain to wrap his uninjured arm around the back of her neck.

“i was so scared rafe,” she whispered later to him while they laid in bed. the bullet in his shoulder was long gone and he was bandaged up, curtesy of the private doctor he had hired for situations like this. “thought he was going to-”

he cut her off, “i’ll never let anyone hurt you again.” he traced his fingers up and down her back while she clung to his body.

“yeah,” she replied softly. and for the first time in a long time, she believed him.

after that night, rafe installed a high level security system, had armed guards posted outside the mansion’s gate and every entrance to their home. despite the new safety measures, mw!reader would still stay up into the late hours, paranoid. she didn’t close her eyes until she was tucked into rafe’s side, arms wrapped her protectively.

[cupidbedsy]

i would love a part two to the quinn neglecting you blurb :)

✿ CUPID'S FLORAL SHOP ✿

here's a freshly picked restless rose 🌹 !

warnings: quinn feeling like an ass, wrote on my phone so i don’t know how grammatically correct this is

word count: 740

florist cupid: the long awaited part two ! i’m so glad everyone liked this, i honestly didn’t think it would go crazy the way it did but im thankful it did.

it was about an hour that quinn was out of the apartment, thoughts racing through his head as he walked down the street. he’d shoot a weak smile and give a small wave to those who called out his name, even stopping to sign something once and a while.

but for the most part, he spent his time in his own headspace, thinking about the vents that had happened in the past couple hours. he’d been neglecting you for weeks. how could he not haven seen it?

at some point during his walk he stopped outside a flower stand, eyes trailing over each and every flower, finally settling on a small bouquet of one of your favorite flowers, making small talk with the older lady who was working the stand.

“special date tonight?”

quinn looked at her sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “no i uh… kind of messed up.”

the lady gave him a knowing smile, finishing wrapping the flowers nicely. it was silent for the next few moments before she handed the bouquet to him. he went to take out his wallet but the woman just shook her head with a fond look on her face, “don’t worry about it.”

quinn fumbled, almost dropping his cash on the ground, “are you sure? i couldn’t just-“

“is she important?”

he nodded instantly, “yeah, most important person in the world. she um-“ he let a smile tug at his lips and tears prick his eyes, “she’s everything to me.”

“then it’s no big deal. you only get one of those girls, don’t lose her now.”

quinn thanked her again, walking away from the stand, but not before slipping money into the small jar.

━。゜✿ ゜。━

when he got back to your shared apartment, he played with the zipper of his jacket for a few moments before sliding the key in and unlocking the door.

you hadn’t moved from your spot on the couch the whole time he had been gone, you were too engrossed in your thoughts to move.

the sound of the lock unlocking stirred you from trance, snapping your head to look at the door.

quinn looked even more tired than when he had left, his hair messy as if he had been running his hands through it nonstop on his walk.

your eyes found the flowers in his hands, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you spoke softly, “quinny.”

he gave you a weak smile, slipping his shoes off and walking over to where you now stood. he handed you the flowers, the fingers on his free hand intertwining with yours.

he leaned down, letting your forehead rest against his. he played with your fingers, his and yours breathing being the only sound you could hear.

“they’re beautiful… thank you.”

“i’m sorry.”

you peered up at him through your eyelashes, taking in his guilty expression. you detangled your hand from his, reaching up to cup his face, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, “quinn-”

“i’m sorry.” he repeated, placing his hand on your hip to draw you closer to him, “i shouldn’t have pushed you aside, i shouldn’t have been so absorbed in the team and i should’ve been taking care of myself. you’re the most important person in my life and i wouldn’t have even been able to get through this past year without you, i shouldn’t have taken you for granted.”

you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. tears welled in your eyes as you listened to him talk, hanging on every word he said. you knew he was sorry, you knew he didn’t mean to do this, but he did and it happened.

it was a rough patch in your relationship, but you would get through it, you knew you would.

he frowned when he saw the tears in your eyes, moving his hand to grasp yours again, “don’t cry, please. you know i hate when you do, especially if it’s because of me.”

he took the flowers from your hand, placing them down on the coffee table to bring you into a hug, cradling your head to his chest.

“i’ll make it up to you, i promise even if it’s the last thing i do.”

“don’t need to make it up to my quinn,” your fingers grasped at his sweater, clutching it like a lifeline. “you’re here now, and you apologized, not that you needed to, but that’s what matters. you’re here now.”

back to the shop ! ; navigation !

[darnell-la]

Hopefully not to gross. But, I just have been thinking about Logan forcing his cock down his girls throat but he’s so big and rough it makes her vomit. Then instantly going from rough to apologetic when she’s upset

note: PLEASE READ ^^ this is unlike any story we have posted before, and we’d like to make sure whoever reads this will not give any kind of complaints. Thank you!

———

“C’mere,” Logan grabbed a handful of y/n’a hair and pulled her into the bathroom. They had been arguing for what felt like hours in an empty hallway about the mission Logan almost blew because of the way another man touched y/n’s hip.

“Logan, we’re undercover — Shit happens!” Y/n shouted at the man, which instantly put her on her knees. “Don’t fucking care,” Logan growled between his teeth as he reached into his pants to pull himself out.

“Logan, we’re working-“ Before y/n could’ve finished her sentence, the man pushed through her lips. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but he was still hung. That was one good dangerous thing about him.

“You think you’d enjoy this if it was him? Huh!?” Logan asked as he snapped his hips, making sure all that came out of y/n’s mouth were moans and saliva that made its way down her jaw.

“Oh, and believe I’ll send you right back out there to him, looking just like this,” Logan said as he wiped across y/n’s face a few times, smearing her makeup until she started slapping his hands away.

“Now do you think he’ll still want you after seeing you like this? Huh? Huh!?” The man asked as he kept pounding into y/n’s mouth relentlessly.

“No, he won’t — Only I like you like this, Bub, and only I can fucking see you like this,” Logan said right as his cock twitch. As soon as he got fully hard down y/n’s throat, he couldn’t hold himself back.

Y/n slapped Y/n Logan’s lower stomach, trying to tell him that she couldn’t breathe and that he was too far down her mouth, but he wouldn’t put his thrusts to a halt.

“Right there,” Logan growled as he spilled into her mouth. It felt good for a while until y/n began to cough. Within seconds, everything came up, and out of her mouth.

Logan quickly pulled back, not knowing what happened first until he watched her vomit over the bathroom floor.

“Oh, shit,” Logan said as he got to his knees and put a hand on her back to comfort her in some way. The man shook as y/n got everything out that needed to come out.

“Fuck, y/n- I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking-“ Logan tried saying until he was pushed away. “Fuck off!” Y/n’s voice died halfway through her speaking. She could feel the slight pain, and taste of what she had just let out.

“Baby, I didn’t- Baby, I’m sorry,” Logan said as he got up and got a bunch of wipes from the cabinet that was in the fancy bathroom. “Are you okay? Babe, please speak to me — Tell me, are you okay?” Logan asked as he began cleaning the floor.

Y/n didn’t answer the man. She continued coughing to make sure everything was out of her system.

Tears filled Logan’s eyes, feeling like he had done something he could never come back from. “Baby, please — I’m so sorry,” Logan said as he grabbed y/n’s face softly to wipe her down and clean her up.

“I-I didn’t know you couldn’t take it — I was just- I was thinking of myself and thought you’d be okay, because we always go through, and I couldn’t think about another man on you, and I just-“

“Logan, shut up! Please, just- God, relax — I’ll be fine,” y/n grabbed some towels from Logan before pushing him away. “God, you’re just so fucking annoying,” was all y/n could say.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, wanting to break down right then and there. Y/n looked at Logan, hoping he wasn’t actually crying, but he was. That instantly made her roll her eyes and pull him into a hug.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Y/n said as she softly rubbed Logan’s back. Logan couldn't stop apologizing and bringing up how horrible of a person he was for not seeing the signs of her actual struggle, but she shut him down quick.

“Hey, I’m fine with you being rough — Just make sure it’s not after I eat ten deviled eggs,” y/n joked, making Logan let out a slight laugh, but he still didn’t feel too great.

“Let’s just go back to the hotel — He’ll be here tomorrow,”

[laseracronym]

They Made You Cry (MHA/Fem!Reader)

(Laser: I'm sad today, so I curse you with angst.)

Summary: MHA characters reacting to making their girlfriend cry. (Angst, arguments, and some unhealthy relationship dynamics.)

Characters: Bakugou, Dabi, Aizawa, Shigaraki, Midoriya

MHA-MHA-MHA

Bakugou

Katsuki's heart sinks when he sees the unmistakable wetness that mists over your eyes. What's worse, what really makes him feel like the worst kind of bastard, is the way you shy away from his gaze with a sense of bitter defeat. Like he's getting what he wanted. Like his victory, his intention, was pushing you to tears.

As if he could ever consider this a victory.

"H-Hey..." he reaches out to you, awkward and unsure. He's so bad at dealing with tears, especially yours. It's so much easier to take on whatever piece of shit that's made you cry, but in this case, it's him. He's the piece of shit.

You sniffle, hurriedly brushing past him, equal parts angry and hurt.

"Whatever, Katsuki."

Dabi

The thing about you is that you're so damn unpredictable. Sweet one second, drawing blood the next.

Dabi kind of loves it. It keeps things from becoming boring, getting stale. And you're so hot when your eyes are ablaze with whatever emotion is overcoming you.

Just like right now, in the middle of some pointless, bullshit argument, when something he says makes you snap. You tackle him to the ground, your hands fisting into his jacket as you yell in his face. All he can do is grin up at you dangerously, just as angry, but equally as enticed by just how vibrant you look in this moment.

Then something even sweeter happens.

Big, fat tears begin to drip from your wild eyes, and Dabi sucks in a breath. You sob, frustrated and overwhelmed, and his cold, little heart warms at the sight.

"Oh, pretty girl..."

His arms wrap around you as you cry into his chest, cursing his name all the while. He strokes your hair, twisted affection squirming in his chest like a nest of spiders.

Always so unpredictable and entertaining.

Aizawa

"(Name), I-" Shouta falters, all the anger and frustration from your argument washed away by cold, all-consuming guilt at the sight of the tears slipping down your face.

You hurriedly wipe them away, stepping back, away from him, and the guilt deepens.

He knows you hate crying in front of him, even when it isn't his fault. It makes you feel weak, and he knows you worry he'll think less of you, that he'll find your more emotional way of being "irrational."

You turn, hiding your face as you try to walk away, but he stops you, gently catching you by the arm.

"Wait," he pleads, his voice gentle, "I'm sorry." Because no argument is worth making you cry.

"I don't want you to see me like this," you mutter, your head down. But at least you're not pulling away from him. He takes that as a good sign.

"Don't hide from me," he urges. He takes you by the chin and tilts your head up so he can look at you properly. He brushes your tears away, regretful that they're there in the first place. "Let's talk about this, okay?"

He's always so stubborn, set in his ways. But he'll try to meet you in the middle, to understand your perspective. You're worth it.

Shigaraki

Tomura feels no guilt at the sight of your tears, only vindictive satisfaction. Good. He'd been aiming to hurt you when he said those words to you. He really can't stand the way you make him feel sometimes, so he's happy to return the favor.

"You're seriously crying?" he taunts with a cruel smirk, poking at your cheek with a mocking finger.

You smack his hand away, "fuck you, Tomura, you fucking prick," you hiss, trying not to cry even more in front of him. You turn and storm away from him before things get even worse.

"You're so pathetic!" he calls after you, making sure you can hear him before you slam the door behind you.

He huffs, standing there and scratching at his neck. You're so damn overdramatic, a pain in his ass. You deserve to cry a little for the shit you put him through.

The image of your tear-filled face flashes through his mind. He ignores the way it makes his stomach twist with discomfort.

Midoriya

Izuku feels his own eyes fill with tears, watching you hug yourself and cry in front of him.

"(N-Name)... please don't cry..." he begs, his hands brushing up and own your arms, trying to console you.

"I thought I was never going to see you again," you cry, your words making his heart ache. You scrub a shaking hand over your eyes, "I was so s-scared for you!"

"I'm sorry, (Name)," he pulls you into a hug, his own tears running free. He really scared you this time. It was a close call. "It's okay, I'm okay. I'm here."

He shushes you gently, guilt spreading through his chest at the distress he's caused you. His job is always going to cause you to worry, the only thing he can do is try his best to come home to you at the end of the day.

(Requests)

[beef-brisket]

Adam and Lucifer walked in silence, and it didn't help that Adam had no idea where where he wanted to go.

He never really focused on what the Pride Ring had to offer. He was too busy killing sinners.

Lucifer cleared his throat: So, uh... are you... annoyed?

Adam growled: I'm not a bitch, alright? I don't get "annoyed" I get fucked off. And I'm not fucked off. So forget about it.

Lucifer: ...You sound annoyed. AND fucked off.

Adam: I'm neither. So, don't. Worry. About. It.

Lucifer: ...Is this about-?

Adam: You asking me to stay, and I did- then you couldn't even bother staying with me? Making me think I still don't fucking matter to you AT ALL and being reminded of Eden because in reality, nothing has fucking changed and you're probably just going to leave and start hating me for no fucking reason? Nope. Not about that at all- because I'm not fucked off. I'm perfectly fine!

Lucifer was silent. The fuck is going on? Adam hasn't been this all over the place since he first arrived at the hotel.

Lucifer chuckles awkwardly: I- Adam. Is that really what this is about? I don't understand- I thought you were doing better! And something as simple as this sets you back- pretty much to the beginning?!

Adam scoffed: "Simple"- go fuck yourself, Lucifer. Fuck off back to the hotel or wherever the fuck you want to go- just make sure it's away from me!

Lucifer: What-?! No! I'm not going anywhere-!

Adam: Seriously?! When I want you to stay, you leave, and when I I want you gone, you stay! The fuck is wrong with you?!

Lucifer: Me?! What about you?! You're all over the place! One minute- you're fine, then the next you go off at whoever is closest to you! You're emotions are all over the place-!

Adam glared: I've been fine- fucking great, even! But you had to fucking ruin it!

Lucifer: There you go again- blaming me for all of your problems! Maybe you just can't handle the fact that you're a horrible person!

Adam stopped walking and stared at Lucifer, who only stared back. Adam hated the fact he felt like crying again, he's so over this emotional shit.

Lucifer: I... Adam, I'm-.

Adam: D-Don't worry about it, you're right. As usual- let's just head back, yeah? It's getting cold, or whatever.

Lucifer watched as Adam walked off and wrapped his arms around himself. Sighing, Lucifer followed behind Adam, all the way back to the hotel.

When they got back to the hotel, Adam walked past everyone and went straight to his room. He even locked his door, something he hadn't done in months.

Charlie: You okay, dad?

Lucifer smiled up at his daughter: H-Hey, Char- I'm fine. Just been a long day, you know?

Charlie smiled back: Sure has. Well, Vaggie and I are off to bed. We'll see you in the morning.

The kings heart fluttered when his daughter gave him a tight hug. He was still getting used to being an actual dad to Charlie, but he was loving every second.

The Hotel Yard

Adam: So, Lucifer hadn't heard this yet but there is an AI version of our show already.

Lucifer: Shit, okay.

AI Lucifer: Hello everyone I'm with my co-host Adam. And might I say you look like you've escaped from a mental institution.

Adam: So already you start off with insulting me

Lucifer: Yeah but we take turns

Adam: Giving blows to each other

Lucifer: Yeah we take turns blowing each other.

Adam: HAHAHA!!

AI Adam: That's not nice Lu

AI Lucifer: No, but you want to know something else? We're gay for each other.

Lucifer: What!? Hahaha!

Adam: Fucking Jesus hahaha!

I love these goobers so much 😂

AI Adam: We love recording this podcast. But our fathers hate us.

Lucifer and Adam nearly die if laughing.

Lucifer: W-What the fuck?!

Adam: It's not fucking wrong, dude!

[berryeemmy]

hello!! can you make a fic for overwhelmedreader! at a party with Rafe? where she's anxious and Rafe reassures that he'll her home while Kelce and Topper tease him. But he still soothes her and takes her home even though she feels guilty!!

you can do whatever this is just a small idea, thank you❤️❤️ i love your blog!

Oh my goodness yes!! I am so happy your like my first real ask!!! I hope you like it! Thank you so much love💕

The music was too loud, the air was too thick with the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Bodies of people you didn’t even know were pushing and shoving you by accident. All the colors from the lights along with the shouting was just too much for you to handle.

The only reason you even came to this stupid party was because Rafe asked you too. No begged you too. Or maybe it was because, for once, you wanted to fit into his world of adventure and wild parties. But now, standing in the corner with your arms wrapped around yourself tightly while Rafe went to go get a drink with Top and Kelce, you felt like you were suffocating.

Rafe and the guys had been walking back to you from getting another beer in the kitchen, when Rafe saw the familiar look on your face. The look you got when you were overwhelmed. Originally he was laughing with Topper about something funny he said, but once he saw that look. It all came to a halt.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cut through the noise, distracting you for a moment. He put his hands on your waist, his touch comforting.

“You okay?” He asks so only you could hear.

You shake your head biting down on your lip softly.

“Baby what’s wrong. You gotta tell me what’s wrong.” He says, his voice softer then ever before.

You swallowed hard, “j-just wanna go h-home..” you whisper on the verge of tears.

Rafe’s expression quickly changed to one of worry.

“Hey hey hey, there’s no need to cry baby its okay, i’ll take you home. My girl just feeling overwhelmed yeah?” He says quickly. He didn’t wanna question it. That was for later.

You nod quickly as a tear falls down you cheek, mascara running along with it.

And that’s when Topper and Kelce decided they want to make their appearance known again.

“Dude, you’re leaving already?” Kelce scoffed.

Topper rolled his eyes and slightly nudged Rafe on the shoulder. “Man you’re pussy whipped.”

Rafe scoffed, just like Kelce. “Leave me alone. My girl tells me she wants to go home we’re going home okay?” He says his voice sharp like a knife. And with that, Rafe’s already guiding you out of the house and into the front yard, where he had parked his truck earlier.

As he opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat, a wave of guilt hits you.

Rafe gets into the driver side, when he notices more tears falling down your face.

“Baby why you still crying huh? Its okay, your safe in the car now.” He says while leaning over to cup your cheek softly.

“I feel bad, you were obviously having a good time a-and i just ruined it.” You sniffle.

“Pretty girl, you didn’t ruin anything. I don’t care about Topper and Kelce, or having fun. I care about you. My baby. Not anything else, mkay?” He says firmly but still somehow gentle.

You couldn’t help but feel relief, like a weight had been taken off your shoulders as he said those words. So you nodded “okay..” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby, now lets go home.” He muttered giving you a quick kiss.

[impyssadobsessions]

DP x DMC interaction

haha okay so i have an interaction idea for my dmc and dp crossover with Patty and Danny with how they meet. (probably be only for me but hehe >w<) Danny after being stranded in dmc world, is living with Dante and being a part-time employee. They specify part time since he's still a minor. (just by a year and that's not even fully correct just easier to keep same birthday due to time shenanigans... Danny mostly upset because he was a four months away and now he has to wait eight. Not important just thought it be funny for Danny to fuss over it a little.) Dante is off on another gig not long after Danny starts crashing at his place. Danny had just gotten his citizenship started thanks to Morrison, and now settling in. He's borrowing Dante's clothes and cleaning up the place (since its still a mess from last Dante was there despite Lady n Trish having dropped in while he was stuck in underworld ) Imagine Dante actually giving Danny his better clothes, and they're baggy on Danny. Nero and Nico having promise to drop by at the end of the week, tying off loose ends to take Danny in for a bit.

Anyways. So Danny just finding something to do, since he isn't in a school ( and he doubts he will), and the business is slow, so he cleans the place. He gets it looking really nice and clean. That's when Patty drops in, expecting to go give Dante a piece of her mind for not checking in or answering her calls ( she's just worried about the geezer) then is shocked when she walks into the place and its SPOTLESS. And there in the middle of the office is someone in Dante's clothes but clearly not Dante. Which she exclaims in shock. And Danny, being Danny like.. uhh yeah I know. Need me to take a message? Wondering why a girl closer to his age looking for Dante. Did she have a job for them? Patty just shocked but then bombarding Danny with questions, suspicious of him. Which Danny just holding his hands like AHH chill chill =w=''' Then Danny explains the situation. Patty still suspicious if not a bit jealous or at least upset Dante never told her. Danny explaining how its pretty new. That's when someone else comes in fretting with an actual Job request. Immediately distraught when hearing Dante isn't in. Danny saying he can take the shift if its nearby- but the guy not wanting to hear it. Dismissing Danny before even knowing him, crumbling into the floor wailing. That's when Patty jumps in both curious of Danny's ability, while also not wanting anything to discourage going to Devil May Cry for services (pride in Dante's business). Patty convincing the man in almost scary manipulative way. She also insists on accompanying them. Danny learns more about Patty on their way over, she driving him up to the spot. Patty learning a little bit about Danny too. He goes into the infested manor, only to turn out the guy was the reason it was infested having made a deal only to turn tails... on more than one demon. Danny gets roughed up, still trying to get a hang of his limitations and powers here, but still manages to pull off a cool fight- especially if Patty ends up in direct line of fire. He sends all the demons packing. Leaving the asshole who started this mess, who tried not to pay them. Making a fuss about the destruction of the mansion, and how long it had taken Danny, as well as letting the demons get too close to him. (They never touched him) Patty is the one to give the guy hell, as well as scare him into paying Danny with bonus. Mentioning how upset Dante would be learning that he jibbed his son, and how next time a demon be hunting him down he won't be able to call on DMC for help. Danny's a bit shocked but pleasantly so with how fast the guy changes his tune as Patty offers to drive Danny out to get milkshakes, since they just got paid. "We?" "I did the negotiating, so I'll be taking a cut. Dante won't mind. uwu C'mon, I'm going to show you all the best hang outs around town. You're going to love them." Thus starts Danny and Patty hanging out. >w< Patty tries not to show it, but she was very impressed at how Danny handled things. Yeah he's not as cool as Dante, but he had his own flare. Plus he's closer to her age.

I did a doodle on paper too =w=' I was going to do something epic and cool but uh... nothing came to me

also a repost of this so you can get a better look at their designs.

[moosesarecute]

Chapter 13: The Shadow to my Flame

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Azriel was having a hard time.

He had, together with Rhys and Cass, explained to Mor and Amren that they had let Ashe not only into the Night Court, but also into Velaris.

When they had started explaining that Ashe was a Vanserra, Mor had become…distant. It didn’t take long for her to get into self-defence mode. He didn’t blame her for that, of course, but he wished they had gone about explaining it in a kinder way.

Amren agreed and had given him and his brothers many disappointed looks afterwards.

Azriel was also doing bad, because he hadn’t seen Ashe in over a week.

Samli and Thord had come up with the idea that Ashe would live with them, to try to not overwhelm her with all the changes. Azriel agreed that it was a good idea, but he hated not being able to help her.

So, he had been sneaking into her room after Thord and Samli had gone into bed to try to talk with her. She had grown quieter for each time he visited, and he got a worse and worse feeling of worry for each time he left.

But for the last week, Ashe hadn’t been in her room when he visited. Azriel took that as a sign she needed space, but he still let his shadows follow her.

They gave him updates about how she every night, snuck off and burned and burned and burned. She never did any harm, unless you count the trees she burned down, but she was growing more and more exhausted for each night.

Azriel had to admit that he was worried about her. Of course he was, she was his mate, he was supposed to worry. But he forced himself to stay away.

That was until his hands started hurting more than usual and his shadows informed him that she had burned her hands badly. They whispered about how she lost control for just a little and how her hands now were full of blisters.

His mind was brought right back to his younger self. He barely managed to pull himself out of his head before he got a panic attack.

Azriel used his worry to first pick up some bandages and cooling cream before he shadow-walked to where the shadows told him his Ashe was.

She was seated leaning against a tree and breathing heavily when he arrived. Her eyes widened just a little when she saw him and then she abruptly stood up. She was shaking and it was visible that she had been crying.

He slowly made his way towards her.

“I brought-”

“Don’t come closer,” she said. He had never heard her voice sounding more panicked. He stopped at her words. “You need to leave.”

Her shaking became worse and Azriel saw how she tightened her hands to try to ease the pain.

“I’m just here to help, Flame,” he answered and took another step towards her. Ashe reacted by taking a step away from him. “I have some cooling cream for your hands.”

She shook her head once more. Tears again begun to flow.

“I’ll hurt you. You have to leave,” her voice sounded even more panicked and urgent.

Hurt him? She could never hurt him.

He furrowed his brows at her words.

“You could never hurt me Ashe. Please, I just want to help you. See!” He held up the cooling cream and bandages. “I know you hurt your hands. These will help you.”

He knew by that terrified look on her face that he wouldn’t get any closer to her that night. He moved slowly as he put the cream and bandages on the ground.

“I’m here for you if you need me Ashe,” he said and he surprised himself when he heard the shakiness in his voice. Was he going to cry? He held the tears in, but he could see how Ashe definitely understood that he was getting emotional. “It will be better eventually.”

He stood straight and was about to move away, when Ashe took a small step towards him. She stopped herself after just one step. She looked terrified about what she had just done, but Azriel got hope.

He looked hopeful at her, waiting for her to make another move.

“I can help you, Ashe,” he said again and slowly lifted his foot to take a step towards her.

“No,” she almost yelled at him. “You can’t help. No one can help. Please, leave. You must leave.”

“Ashe, please-”

“LEAVE!”

One moment the forest was shining in the light from the moon, the next it was lit up by the fire that accidently left Ashe’s hands.

It was a thin, soft flame. It didn’t hurt as it hit Azriel’s hand. He got surprised by it, but it didn’t hurt. It almost felt comforting. It felt like his own shadows, but a little warmer. It wasn’t burning hot like the fire from wood. It was alive and felt safe.

However, Ashe didn’t realize he felt it that way. She looked like she had seen a ghost. That was until she got a little green tint in her cheeks.

She winnowed away before she threw up.

Azriel knew he had fucked up.

He had been in his room at the House of Wind for an hour. His shadows were covering him and the entire room. He wouldn’t be surprised if he learned that they were seeping out into the corridor.

What in the cauldron was he going to do?

He could feel all of Ashe’s terror and guilt. It overwhelmed the mother out of him. He was bawling his eyes out. He couldn’t remember last time he cried that much.

He needed to a plan to help Ashe. Firstly, he needed a plan to make Ashe tell him what she was struggling with. He had spent over an hour trying to come up with something, but the only thing he got was Rhys forcing it out of her brain, which didn’t seem like a good idea for her to trust him, or having his shadows follow her for every second of every day.

But they already did, and he still didn’t know what to do.

A soft knock on his door made his shadows stop covering him. They went to the opposite side of the room and swirled in a big black blob.

“Can I speak to you?”

It was Mor.

He got up from his bed and opened the door for her to come through. Mor’s eyes widened when she saw Azriel’s blood red eyes. He tried to rub the worst out, but it didn’t help much.

They sat down on his bed and Mor begun speaking.

“Rhys explained Ashe’s life. How she had no clue she was a Vanserra. I overreacted and I hurt you by not letting you explain, I’m sorry.”

Two hours ago, Azriel would have appreciated the apology, but right now it felt so insignificant. He had such bigger problems to fix.

He muttered a small thank you and expected Mor to leave. But she didn’t.

“I’m not going to leave you when it is so visible that you have been crying your eyes out. What’s going on?”

He knew she wasn’t going to leave until he told her, so he just started speaking. He always found it hard to explain things, so it took some time, but she eventually understood.

“So she burned you?”

“Yes, but no. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t leave a mark. It was almost soft.”

“But you flinched because you got surprised, and she thinks she hurt you? And then she left before you could explain?”

He only nodded.

“You care a lot about this female, don’t you?” Mor spoke extremely softly.

“She’s my mate.”

Mor looked at him both surprised and happy. None of them had mates. They didn’t even know many mates that actually liked each other, other than Miryam and Drakon.

Azriel felt honoured to have a mate, but at the same time he had never felt so lost in his entire life. He wanted someone to tell him what to do, but no one knew. No one had experienced what he was going through.

“You could explain it to her, you know. Explain it, not with words, but show her that she didn’t hurt you. Her fire is different because you obviously care for her, so show her the difference between her fire and other fire.”

It was the best idea Azriel could hear, so he started working.

Ashe was poisoned by her own mind.

She was a danger to the people around her. Or at least that is what she told herself. For each day, she noticed more and more details that gave away that she was his daughter. And for each detail, she got even more need to shut down her powers.

He flinched.

Ashe saw it every time she closed her eyes. And every time she saw it, she got more motivated to lose her powers.

If she didn’t, she would become him.

That’s how she ended up wandering through the sketchier parts of Velaris. That’s how she met with the drug dealer. And last, that’s how she got hold of the faebane.

Ashe knew it was stupid, she knew it was dangerous and potentially lethal, but if she didn’t do it, she would become lethal.

She started small. Only taking a pinch of the powder and adding it to her water. It tasted earthy and dry, but she got it down. However, she could still use her powers, so a few hours later, she took some more. Relief washed over her together with the nausea when she no longer could use her fire.

Good.

No fire = no danger to others

But then, after a few hours, she could again light her candle. So, she drank some more.

She felt like a thick cloud had laid over her. It held her mind tightly and it was highly uncomfortable. All her limbs felt heavy to move. Even lifting her eyebrows was a struggle. She began to cold sweat and uncontrollably shake, but it meant that she was safer for anybody else.

She looked down at her burned hands. She hadn’t let them heal completely before she started with the faebane. They would leave scars, but she deserved it. Azriel had similar scars, and she had hurt him, so she would experience the same amount of pain.

Samli and Thord were as loving as usual. They gave her food and hugs when she needed it. They asked why she was smelling so earthy but accepted her answer when she told them she had been spending a lot of time outside.

They were visibly worried but listed to her when she said she needed some space.

But she didn’t want space. She wanted to be held and comforted. She wanted someone to explain why the hell her life had taken such a turn and help her to see herself as herself and not him. She wanted to be loved and taken care off, but she was too much of a danger, so she couldn’t let anyone close enough.

She had proven that she wasn’t safe to be around. He had hurt Azriel. She had hurt the person she cared the most about. If she wasn’t safe to Azriel, she wouldn’t be safe to anyone else either.

Azriel had felt the bond growing quieter and quieter. When it got silent for the first time, he was sure Ashe was dead. He had completely lost it. He sent all his shadows to her and was almost on his way when the shadows told him that she was okay and safe.

Azriel was on edge for the rest of the day. He realized, after doing some studying about mating bonds, that he probably just closed her side without realizing it.

But then she didn’t open it. Not for days. Azriel had to admit he was worried. It did help a little when his brothers teased him for being to paranoid, but at the same time he just needed her to tell him that she was okay.

His brothers had been awful. They were only teasing him. Saying that he was whipped or wrapped around her finger. They weren’t wrong. Azriel wished his brothers were lucky enough to have mates, if only just so Azriel could tease them back.

It had been three days after the fire incident when Azriel was finally ready to explain. He had been practicing for three days, but he also wished for Ashe to have some time. He didn’t want to push her. If she told him to leave, he would.

Samli opened the door when he knocked.

“Please, be gentle with her,” she said. “I think she’s doing a lot worse than what she’s letting on.”

He nodded and promised to be gentle. He didn’t think he could ever be something else with her.

He knocked on her bedroom door and she opened after a while.

She had huge undereye circles and she looked exhausted. It felt like someone had stabbed Azriel. He just wanted her to be alright. Tears pressed on his eyes.

Ashe moved and let him into her room.

Azriel remembered laughing when he first saw her huge bed made for Illyrian wings. He had gotten hopeful that maybe one day, he would sleep in it with her. Now, it only felt like it was haunting him.

It looked like it only had been slept in a few times.

“I’m sorry,” Ashe spoke. Cauldron, her voice sounded weak. Azriel turned to look at her and saw that she was even paler than usual. What was going on? “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I-”

“You didn’t,” he started. “You didn’t hurt me. I just got surprised.”

He was about to start the explanation he had been practicing for the last three days, when he smelled it.

He noticed how her sweet smell was sour. How it didn’t give him the comfort it usually did. It only made him anxious.

He stopped and told himself it couldn’t be.

That was until his shadows drew his attention to a small jar that stood on Ashe’s desk.

He moved swiftly towards it and Ashe didn’t even have time to protest before he had opened it and smelled the faebane.

He felt chills going done his body. Had she been poisoning herself?

He looked over to her and she looked even paler than before. Her mouth was open, and she looked like she was trying to explain, but that she couldn’t.

“When did you get this?”

“Three days ago.”

He was going to puke. She had gotten it after she sent fire towards him.

“Was it full?”

“Yes.”

That’s a lot of faebane.

Azriel didn’t even try to hold back his protective instincts.

He dropped the lid back onto the jar and immediately moved back to Ashe. He didn’t let her protest as he embraced her so tightly. He also didn’t bother holding back his tears.

His mate had felt so low, felt so dangerous, that she poisoned herself. For three day. And he hadn’t noticed.

“Never again,” his shadows told him, and he agreed.

“Please, Ashe. I’m not letting you do this anymore. I’m going to help you. You can’t scare me away. I won’t leave you. I don’t care if you tell me to leave, okay? I’m going to stay, and you’ll have to find a way to deal with it. Okay?”

Her shoulders shaking told him that she was crying silently. He soon felt her tears soke his shirt. He only held her tighter.

She drew a breath and said something. But it was so quiet and full of sobs that not even his shadows heard it. He started stroking her hair in a hope it would calm her sobs a little. However, it only made her cry more.

“What did you say?” he whispered into her ear.

“Please, stay.”

Hope filled his heart.

“I’ll stay forever.”

Madja had given her a quite harsh talking to about how stupid she was. And even though Azriel felt the need to protect her from all the harshness of the world, Ashe’s eyes seemed more aware than it had since she got to the Night Court.

Madja had gotten all the poison out, but Ashe would remain weak and sick for a couple of days. She had dressed Ashe’s hands and given her an even bigger supply of cooling cream than earlier.

Azriel had held Ashe’s hand the entire time. He wouldn’t ever want to let go, but if he had wished to do so, he couldn’t. Ashe was holding him so tightly. It was like she was scared he would leave if she let go.

He needed her to know that he wouldn’t leave. Not now, not ever.

Samli and Thord had dinner ready for both of them when they got back from the healers. They apologized that they hadn’t noticed how bad Ashe was doing and then they told them how happy they were no permanent damage had been done.

Ashe only played with her food. She was deep in her thoughts and Azriel hoped she wasn’t spiralling deeper.

After dinner, he carried her up to her room. She had tried to walk, but even walking on the flat floor was too hard for her currently weak body.

Azriel adored having her in his arms, and even though he was overwhelmed and stressed, he couldn’t help but hope that it wouldn’t be the last time he carried her to her bedroom. He only hoped it was because of other reasons.

His shadows helped him lifting the duvet as he laid her down into the bed. She sunk into the mattress and Azriel realized how he loved seeing her relaxed. She was blinking lazily and Azriel had to smile at her.

He tucked her in tightly together with the shadows. It was a high possibility she would experience some fever throughout the night, so he didn’t want her to freeze.

He brushed the hair away from her face and watched how she closed her eyes and then, they stayed closed. He lifted her hand that had been holding his since before they went to the healer, and he kissed it softly.

Azriel then stood up and carefully let go of her hand. He moved quietly to the door when the cutest voice he had ever heard stopped him.

“Where you going?” Ashe asked him. He could hear how tried she was, but some panic still bloomed through her words. When he turned, she had almost sat up in the bed, only leaning down on one of her arms.

“I was going to let you sleep.”

He looked over at her and saw how tears started to fall. He immediately got the intense need to hurt anything that had ever hurt her. He moved over, sat down on the bed and dried some of her tears.

“What’s going on? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

She sniffed a little before she spoke.

“You said you would stay.”

Azriel felt relived. She had gotten him to think something was terribly wrong. But he saw how devastated she looked at the thought of being left and realized that to her, him leaving probably was something being terribly wrong.

“I’ll stay, my Flame.”

She nodded seriously and then moved over, picked up the duvet and grabbed his hand once again.

Her seriousness was only displayed as adorable in Azriel’s mind, but he laid down next to her. She then lifted his arm and laid it around her waist before she moved closer and closer to Azriel. He then covered them both with his wing.

Her amber eyes were almost glowing in the night light.

Azriel begun stroking her hair once more and it didn’t take long before she was snoring not so softly.

His mate snored.

Taglist: @tele86 @demon-master-zero @kbear8863 @atluky @mis-lil-red @rcarbo1

Let me know if you want to be added!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

[archivedblog16]

Sorry for potentially causing a fight between anons, but... to the person defending Loona, some of the brought up points aren't really... accurate. (If it's the 'serious ask')

"Excuse me loona never beat up her dad up like where did you get that info at?" While I don't recall her actively *repeatedly* beating Blitzø up, she does strike him, such as in Seeing Stars when he's crying and running up to her, just for her to kick him in the balls... after she told Octavia to give HER own father 'a chance' because 'he's trying'. I may not have balls, but that's something that clearly fucking hurts, and it's not really something you should do unless you're defending yourself or something. (Though I will admit, whenever someone hurts their balls, I occasionally spit out a laugh, but the point stands- you don't fucking kick your father in the balls when he's crying and apologizing for what he said.)

"She's kind to everyone!" Uh, no, not really. For the most part, she's either on her phone, ignoring others, or she's insulting them (if she doesn't physically attack them), which is fine for a character... but she definitely WASN'T kind. If you think someone constantly belittling others is a kind person, that's not a good thing at all. Tex is probably the nicest she was during early S1 tbh.

"The fat jokes are the funniest." Oh yeah, it's so hilarious watching her (and other characters) repeatedly tell Moxxie, who isn't fat, that he's a fatass to the point there's implications he's dieting himself too much (early S2, or whenever he mentions he's proud of losing either 2 or 5 pounds in a week... that is not healthy, even if you're a supernatural creature). Yay, i love fat jokes :) /sarcasm

"Sure loona ate a lot but she still says in shape unlike moxxie who gets fat on ice cream." Literally irrelevant to proving Loona is a good character and person, and such a strange comment. Like okay...?

If I talk about the Stolas shit, it'd need its own yapping session or whatever. But Loona definitely WASN'T a good person, and that's okay! The main issue is her development wasn't fleshed out, and she didn't get the time she should've to go from an asshole to actively calling Blitzø her dad and being kind. It's fine to love this show, and it's great to love whatever (within limits ofc,) but it's really good to acknowledge media you love and enjoy aren't always good. There's flaws because we're human. I will kind of agree that 'writing a royalty is hard' when you don't know what it's like, but that's why you need to do proper research, understand what's best for the story and worse, and write the best story you can with the intended message.

Sorry for this long post, I just wanted to get something off my chest about the ask.

You good Anon, don’t worry. I’ll let this post speak for itself. Here’s the context for anyone confused:

Yes, the anonymous person who wrote this is serious. It’s not a copypasta or ragebait.

[f1daydreamer]

Shattered Reflections – Part 2

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader (budding friendship) | Past George Russell x Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Left shattered in the wake of George’s betrayal, you find yourself alone on a cold bench in Monaco, tears falling freely as the weight of everything crashes down on you. But you aren’t alone for long. Max Verstappen, someone you barely know beyond the occasional paddock interactions, finds you—and he refuses to leave you like this. As the world starts piecing the truth together, a storm brews against George and his new girlfriend.

Materialist

---

The streets of Monaco felt colder than usual.

The city, normally buzzing with life, was nothing more than a blur as you sat curled up on a bench near the harbor, your arms wrapped around yourself as though you could physically hold yourself together. But you couldn’t.

Because George had broken you.

The moment you walked out of that hotel room, you hadn’t stopped moving. You didn’t know where you were going—you just needed to get away. Away from the memories. Away from the betrayal. Away from the realization that the man you had loved, the one you would have done anything for, had thrown you away for someone else.

The tears wouldn’t stop.

It wasn’t just sadness—it was humiliation, anger, devastation, and a pain so deep it felt unbearable. Your chest ached, your breath coming out in ragged sobs as you buried your face in your hands, oblivious to the world around you.

Until a voice broke through the noise.

“Y/N?”

You flinched at the sound, your entire body tense. You weren’t ready to face anyone, but when you looked up, it wasn’t who you expected.

Max Verstappen stood a few feet away, brows furrowed in concern. He wasn’t someone you were particularly close to—sure, you had interacted in the paddock, exchanged polite greetings, but that was it. So why was he here now?

“What—” Your voice cracked. “What are you doing here?”

Max hesitated, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face, the way your body trembled. He took a careful step closer, his usual intensity softened by something else—genuine worry.

“I was just walking,” he said, then nodded toward you. “And then I saw you.”

You quickly wiped at your face, even though it was useless. “I—I’m fine.”

Max let out a small scoff, kneeling in front of you so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “That’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard.”

Your breath hitched. His voice wasn’t condescending or filled with pity—it was just… honest.

And that’s what broke you.

A fresh wave of sobs escaped your lips, and before you could even think about it, Max was sitting beside you, his arm resting on the back of the bench, giving you space but still letting you know he was there.

“Did he do something?” Max asked after a moment, his voice low.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to breathe. But the words slipped out anyway. “He cheated.”

Max went still. His entire body tensed beside you, his jaw clenching as he processed what you just said. You expected him to say something—anything—but he didn’t. Not right away. Instead, he just sat there, his presence steady, unmoving, like an anchor keeping you from drifting too far.

After a few minutes, he finally spoke. “What do you need?”

It was such a simple question, but it made you cry even harder.

Because for weeks, you had needed George. You had needed him to notice, to care, to fight for you. And he hadn’t. But Max… Max was a near stranger, and yet here he was, asking what you needed, offering you comfort without expectation.

You shook your head, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.”

Max nodded, as if that was an answer he understood. He didn’t push, didn’t force you to talk. He just sat there, waiting, letting you cry as long as you needed.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel completely alone.

---

A Few Days Later…

The world didn’t take long to catch on.

At first, it was subtle—paparazzi shots of George with his new girlfriend, looking far too comfortable for a relationship that had supposedly just started. But then the internet did what it did best.

They connected the dots.

The dates didn’t add up. People started comparing timestamps, realizing that George had been seeing this girl while he was still with you. And then, the hate started.

#CheaterGeorge trended within hours. Fans flooded his comments, demanding answers, calling him out for betraying someone who had always supported him. The photos of you crying on the bench in Monaco surfaced, taken by an anonymous passerby, further fueling the outrage.

And George? He panicked.

His Instagram story was a mess of damage control.

> “I never cheated on Y/N. We were already broken up before anything happened.”

It was a lie. A blatant, pathetic lie. And people saw right through it.

Screenshots of you two still together on the same day he was seen with her circulated, proving that his story was nothing but an attempt to save face. The backlash only got worse.

And through it all, Max stayed by your side.

“You okay?” he asked as you scrolled through the endless flood of support.

You let out a small, disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t even know what to feel anymore.”

Max exhaled, leaning back against the couch beside you. “You don’t have to figure it out right now.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, the ache in your chest didn’t feel quite as unbearable.

Maybe you were still broken. Maybe you would be for a while.

But with Max by your side, helping you through the wreckage, you weren’t facing it alone.

And for now, that was enough.

---

To be continued…

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