#or we try to fix it but it's the Wrong Thing

[pickingupmymercedes]

Die with a smile - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Die with a smile - Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars - @carmenred28 & an anon (I combined both of your requests)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff (to make it up for the last one)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The first time they talked about forever wasn’t some grand, sweeping declaration of eternal love.

It was a random Tuesday evening at home. Lewis had been exhausted, sprawled out on the couch, his legs stretched across Y/n’s lap as she flicked through the channels.

He was absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, but his mind was elsewhere, and she could tell.

“Alright, what’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked, giving his leg a playful nudge. “You’re scrolling aimlessly”

He looked up at her, his brow furrowing. “Just thinking…” he said, his voice quiet. “The racing, the travel... sometimes it feels like I’m chasing something I don’t even know anymore.”

Y/n didn’t say anything right away. She just watched him, waiting to see if his thinking would get anywhere.

That was one of the things he loved about her—she never rushed him. She gave him the space to work through his thoughts, knowing he’d get there in his own time.

“And?” when she finally asked, her tone was light although it held a tone of curiosity.

Lewis shrugged, glancing away for a second before meeting her gaze again. “I guess I’m just thinking about what happens after all of this. What happens when I stop? What do I want then?”

He could see the question in her eyes, even before she asked it. “And what do you want?”

There it was, the question that had been lingering in the back of his mind for a while now. He took a deep breath, his heart beating a little faster as he said it out loud for the first time. “I want... you.”

Y/n blinked, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t need grand speeches or promises—her fingers brushed against his leg, a simple touch that said, I do too.

“Well,” she said, her voice teasing but affectionate, “that’s good to know, because I’ve kinda been banking on forever with you too.”

There was the nights after tough races. When nothing had gone right.

Lewis had been frustrated, angry, and wound up tight. He’d spent the drive to the hotel from the track stewing in his thoughts, his jaw clenched as the weight of the day pressed down on him.

Y/n had been waiting for him when he got back, her eyes searching his face, reading his mood instantly.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “But you’re not allowed to take it out on yourself.”

He had looked at her, caught off guard by her words, but also relieved that she knew exactly what he needed to hear. She always knew.

He sank down onto the couch next to her, fidgeting with his phone in his hands to try and control the turmoil in his head

“What if I’m losing it” he admitted, his voice raw. “What if I’m not good enough anymore.”

Y/n didn’t try to fix it, didn’t try to tell him he was wrong. Instead, she reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his.

“You’re allowed to have bad days, bad seasons even” she said softly. “It doesn’t make you any less incredible. But you need to give yourself a break, Lew. You’re still a champion, and one bad race doesn’t change that.”

She saw him, every flawed and imperfect part, and she loved him anyway.

There was the small things, the little moments that made up their everyday life together.

 Like the way she’d always let him pick what they were watching during dinner, even though he knew she didn’t care about half the stuff he was into.

He had noticed it one night, as they sat on the couch with takeout containers in their laps, a random documentary on space missions playing on the screen.

“You know, we don’t always have to watch what I want” he said, glancing over at her.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful smirk. “Oh, so you do get bored of these documentaries too?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m just saying, you don’t have to sit through this if you don’t want to.”

She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before settling back against the couch. “I don’t mind,” she said simply. “Besides, watching you get all excited about it makes it worth it.”

It was such a small thing, something most people wouldn’t even think twice about. But She wasn’t just with him for the big moments—the wins, the parties, the glamorous lifestyle.

She was there for the quiet nights on the couch, for the moments when it was just them, being themselves.

And there were the harder times, the moments when life tried to pull them apart.

Like when he had been away for a few weeks, consumed by the demands of racing, and she had been dealing with her own stresses back home.

They had fought—really fought—for the first time in a while. He had been short with her on the phone, and she had snapped back, both of them too exhausted to think straight.

He remembered calling her later that night, after everything had calmed down. His heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her to pick up, unsure of what to say, unsure if she’d even want to talk to him.

But she had answered, her voice soft and tired. “Hey.”

Lewis exhaled, relief washing over him at the sound of her voice. “I’m sorry” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I was being an ass, and I hate that we’re fighting. I hate that I’m not there with you.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, he thought he’d messed it all up. But then she spoke, her voice quiet but steady.

“I hate it too,” she admitted. “But I know you’re doing what you love, and I love you for that. I just... I need to know that when all of this is done, you’ll still come back to me.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected. And that’s when he knew—she wasn’t just his safe place. He was hers too.

And of course, there was the night he was sure.

The night he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

They had been lying in bed, the city lights filtering in through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. Y/n was curled up against him, her head resting on his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

They weren’t talking—just lying there in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

After a long stretch of silence, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think we’ll always be like this?”

Lewis looked down at her, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

She shifted slightly, her gaze still focused on the rise and fall of his chest. “I mean... us. Do you think we’ll always be this close? This... in love?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he said softly, his fingers brushing through her hair. “I do.”

She looked up at him then, her eyes searching his face as if she were looking for something. And whatever it was, she found it, because she smiled—a soft, almost wistful smile.

“Good,” she whispered, settling back against him. “Because I don’t ever want to be without you.”

And now, as Lewis sat in the plush chair, staring down at the array of engagement rings designs laid out before him on the velvet tray, all those moments flashed through his mind.

And he realized he wasn’t overwhelmed by the choices; he was overwhelmed by the gravity of what that ring would symbolize.

"Mr. Hamilton," the designer said from across the table, his voice calm, professional. "You mentioned wanting something unique. Something that reflects your relationship with Y/n. I can help you with that, but how would you describe your love, as in one sentence?"

He looked down at the designs again, his mind filled with the memories of their time together— every laugh, every argument, every quiet moment that build on the decision he’d known for so long.  

A delicate twisted band with intertwined diamonds caught his eye, reminding him of the nights she would trace lazy patterns on his skin, their fingers intertwining.

And when he finally looked up, meeting the designer’s gaze, he smiled. “Our love is... my greatest victory.”

And she was his forever.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[orphiclovers]

Rereading early ORV and I have some THOUGHTS on Kim Dokja. In typical me fashion, they are unpopular. So if he's your absolute favourite character and seeing him be criticized will ruin your day, maybe skip this post, ok? Peace.

-

What is so novel and interesting about Kim Dokja is that he GENUINELY doesn't really have a knee jerk emotional reaction of outrage and empathy when seeing injustice happen. He sees something immoral and bad, but doesn't FEEL horrified and disgusted. Emotions don't drive him to attempt to fix the situation or save anyone.

Instead his moral compass is based on the simple logic that 'bad things happening should be prevented if there is an opportunity to prevent them.'

This philosophy is the most apparent in his actions in Chungmuro on the WHOLE, with the food and marginalized group and etc. But I will point out this moment in particular as an example of what I mean.

They see women be driven to prostitution to survive. Jung Heewon has an instinctive, human reaction of outrage and disgust, wants to rush in and save them and damn the consequences, while Kim Dokja is calm and rational, holding her back and saying those woman will starve if they try to help right now.

This lack of empathy (feeling strong emotions) is definitely due to childhood trauma stunting his emotional development but... that doesn't change the fact this is a legitimate part of his personality now.

Usually, when a character is 'cold and ruthless', it's because they are repressing their true feelings and forcing themselves to be unfeeling for some goal. Like Yoo Joonghyuk, for example.

But we are IN Kim Dokja's head and get to see the way he thinks, and being 'unfeelingly rational' IS what comes naturally to him.

Before you say anything, I know the Fourth Wall represses some of his emotions in certain situations and certainly helps him deal with pain and horror. But we are ALWAYS TOLD when it's active, and it isn't in these moments.

Blaming all of Kim Dokja's less than moral thoughts and behavior on the 4th wall even when there's no indication that it's influencing him at that particular moment, is not something I want to do as it feels like an attempt to scrub away his moral greyness. I choose to believe that his narration, in moments when he's not wrong or biased or 4th wall-ed, is a basically accurate representation of his character. I think the authors didn't make his narration totally 100% unreliable all the time, with no possible indication of where he's wrong or right. Because that would mean there is nothing a reader can latch onto and draw conclusions about KDJ from.

If they wanted to write about a faceless self insert with no concrete personality traits and flaws, a person you can headcanon to be anything, they wouldn't have written ORV.

I think it's okay to acknowledge Kim Dokja's first reaction to seeing a woman about to be raped is not 'oh my god...those bastards...! I have to stop this...!' but '...she might be dangerous or a hinderence in a future...'

We don't need to make excuses here and try to justify this. A moment later he catches himself thinking like this and 'shudders with disgust at himself.'

His first, instinctive thoughts that he can't control don't necessarily make him a bad person. What matters is his second thoughts and what he actually chooses to do, which he CAN control. I ALSO don't think he's wrong to feel disgusted at himself for having low empathy. His guilt is justified.

I genuinely like him even more for always picking the 'moral option' in every scenario now, than if he did it immediately with no hesitation. Because it makes empathy and compassion a constant choice he's making, and putting in the effort reflects well on what his values are.

Kim Dokja legitimately can't help but weigh everyone he meets on a scale of how 'useful they potenially are' first and foremost. He does this with strangers and also with all of kimcom too.

"Who should I save because they would be useful in the future? I wasn't Yoo Joonghyuk to be thinking about these things." At this point, chap 74, he thinks Yoo Joonghyuk is wrong and doesn't want to be like him at all and mostly calls him a psychopath. He thinks 'acting like him' is wrong and undesirable.

He has a mini arc about Yoo Joonghyuk later, goes from 'he's a bad person, I know it because I know everything about him' in chap 81 to 'maybe I don't know him at all' in chap 82 but this is before that.

Seeing people as tools and deciding who to save based on future knowledge is a thing BOTH of them do. Yet Kim Dokja critisizes Yoo Joonghyuk for it, it's his least favourite character trait that YJH of TWSA has.

And in typical Kim Dokja fashion, this similarity between them is exactly what he despises in Yoo Joonghyuk - but now we find out it's not because he finds it amoral ("I'm not a humanist" - he doesn't care about that part) but because he sees it as a mirror reflection of himself. He's projecting, as always!

In early ORV, he hates the part of Yoo Joonghyuk that is the most similar to himself. (even tho they're sort of the polar opposites too. Yoo Joonghyuk is a deeply emotionally driven person, he feels empathy and the desire to save everyone but chooses to repress and ignore this and act like a ruthless 'psychopath'. KDJ disagrees with this choice, as Kim Dokja IS an unfeeling psychopath (low empathy) but does his best to act like a decent person and not an edgelord.)

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗨𝗽 𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗛𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝘁𝟐

Warnings: None

Hyung Line x Reader. Angst.

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ᗷᗩᑎGᑕᕼᗩᑎ

Days had passed, and the tension between you and Chan grew unbearable.

You had tried contacting him, but he’d buried himself in his work, refusing to answer your calls or texts, and every attempt to approach him in person was met with cold indifference.

It was as if he had sealed himself off from you completely, and the guilt gnawed at your insides like a festering wound.

It wasn’t until one late evening, when you found yourself standing outside the studio again, that you realized something had to give. You couldn’t let things end like this - not over a misunderstanding, not when you cared about him so much.

When you loved him so much.

Pushing open the door, you saw him sitting at the same desk, headphones on, eyes glued to his laptop screen. The music played softly in the background, but the atmosphere was anything but peaceful.

You cleared your throat, and when he didn’t react, you took a deep breath and spoke.

"Chan, please. We need to talk."

For a moment, you thought he was going to ignore you again, but then he pulled off his headphones and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were tired, and there were dark circles beneath them, evidence of sleepless nights.

"There’s nothing to talk about," he muttered, turning back to his screen.

“Please,” you said, your voice pleading. "Please."

He tensed, when he heard the hurt in your voice, and then sighed, pushing the chair back but not looking at you, his shoulders tense. He turned to you, his brown eyes tired and sad.

"I’m sorry," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. Afraid if you spoke any louder it might shatter.

“I didn’t realize how much you were carrying, and my words...I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t see everything you do. Because I do, baby. I see and appreciate everything."

He flinched at your words, but remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. You sniffed and wiped the tears you had so miserably failed to keep in. You missed him. Even if only for a few days it felt like eons.

“I know you’re the leader, and I know you have the weight of so much responsibility on your shoulders,” you continued, wiping your eyes, as more tears fell. “But you don’t have to do it all alone. You don’t always have to be strong. I can be strong for you too if you just ask.”

You hiccup, trying to control your shaky voice. "I want you to ask I don't want you to hurt anymore. Please...you can ask for help too. You don't always have to take everything on yourself. I only said what I said because I wanted to convey how upset I was seeing you tire yourself out, Chan-I...I don't want you to be tired anymore."

You were furiously wiping at your face, feeling like a child not able to properly convey their emotions.

“You don’t have to carry that burden by yourself. You’re not alone in this. The members, your fans, me...we’re all here for you. Please just ask us. We'll do anything for you.”

Chan's hands fidgeted in his lap. You felt the urge to run into his arms- you selfishly wanted to have him comfort you. When he was the one who needed comfort in this moment.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry-" You weep. "I miss you, Channie...so much...I don't want you to be mad at me anymore. I'm sorry. I really am..."

For the first time in days, his eyes met yours, and the raw emotion swirling within them took your breath away.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice cracking, muffled by the sleeve of his sweater, which his face was buried in. “I’m scared that if I stop, everything will fall apart. That if I’m not there, something will go wrong, and it’ll be my fault. And that if I ask for help and things go wrong; you'll be to blame when you've done nothing wrong.” His voice was low and sad, and you could tell by the tightness of it he was trying to hold back tears as well.

Your heart ached as you listened to his confession, realizing just how much he had been hiding behind his calm exterior. How he took on stress to make sure any possible stressors wouldn't arise for those he loved and cared for.

"Oh, baby..."

He closed his eyes, his body trembling as the weight of his fears and insecurities finally crashed down around him.

He then looked up at your eyes that mirrored his own.

It seemed like the sadness in yours took his breath away too. Seemed like it shattered all the resolve he had left as he stood up and you launched himself into your arms, pulling him so close that your bodies would have melded together if possible.

You hiccupped out more sobs as you clung to him.

For a moment- a split second he wanted to remain angry, and he resisted -but then he collapsed against you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice muffled against your shirt. His tears wetting it. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I never mean to do that baby, I'm sorry.”

You held him tighter, tears slipping down your cheeks as you whispered, “It’s okay. I promise.”

You stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding each other in the dimly lit studio as the walls between you slowly crumbled. And in that moment, you knew that no matter how heavy the weight on his shoulders was, you would always be there to help him carry it.

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ᗰIᑎᕼO

The next morning, the air between you and Minho was still thick with tension. You had barely slept, and when you shuffled into the kitchen, you found him already there, making coffee in silence. He didn’t even look up when you entered the room.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. The weight of last night’s conversation hung between you like an invisible barrier, and every second that passed without him acknowledging you made the distance feel even greater.

He slid over a cup of coffee to you without as much as looking at you, and as you held the warm drink in your hands they began to tremble.

"Minho..." you began, your voice hesitant, unsure how to approach him. “Can we talk?” Your fingers tapped against the cup nervously.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a slow sip of his coffee, his throat working, and eyes fixed on the countertop. For a moment, you wondered if he would ignore you altogether, but then, without turning, he spoke.

“What exactly do you want to talk about?” His voice was flat, and that cold edge you feared had settled firmly in place.

You bit your lip, nervousness and guilt warring inside you. “What I said last night...it came out wrong. I didn’t mean-”

“You think I’m cold,” he interrupted, finally turning to face you. His expression was unreadable, but the hurt in the brown eyes you loved so much was impossible to miss. “It’s fine. I get it. I’ve heard it before. Its nothing to take to heart.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “No, you don’t get it. I don’t think you’re cold. I know you’re not.” Your fingers gripped the cup to the point your hands were hot, and you set the cup down so you wouldn't drop it.

Minho bit his lip now. “Really? Because that’s not what it sounded like last night.”

You took another step toward him, your heart aching at how distant he felt, even when you were standing right in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn't mean it al all.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening as he leaned back against the counter. “It’s not about what you said,” he muttered, his voice low as he looked at his coffee. “It’s about the fact that...maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s all people see when they look at me. Thats all they ever say so when you said it- the person I love most in this world...it made it feel...true.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could hear the vulnerability in his voice - the fear of being misunderstood, of being seen as something he wasn’t. Because he truly wasn't.

And suddenly, you understood how deeply your careless words had cut him.

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his arm. This time, he didn’t pull away, but his gaze remained fixed on the floor. He set his coffee down as you searched for words to say.

“Love, look at me,” you said softly, your voice trembling. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet yours, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. Something sparking when he saw the shine in yours.

“You’re not cold,” you said firmly, holding his gaze. “You're - not cold at all." You swallowed the knot trying to form. "You’re kind. You’re thoughtful. You care about the people around you more than anyone realizes. And maybe you don’t always show it in the way people expect, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. I see it. All the time.” The knot was relentless and made a home there, your voice breaking slightly.

He stared at you, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if your words were getting through. But then, slowly, his shoulders slumped, and the tension seemed to drain out of him. He allowed you to hold his hands.

“It’s just...hard sometimes,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to be any other way. I'm not cold I just...aren't feelings a precious thing? I don't know how to not be the way I am. It feels normal to be 'serious' and 'cold' like people say. I don't feel that way. I feel loved and loving. I just don't show it off in...big ways...” He swallowed. "Maybe that makes me mean and cold."

Your heart broke at his confession. You had always known Minho to be one who kept his emotions in check, one who always seemed to have everything under control. But now, standing in front of you, he seemed so vulnerable, so...human. Which you had always seen him as.

“You’re not mean or cold,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. You pursed your lips to keep yourself from crying, but it didn't work. “You’re human. It's okay to have different ways of showing emotions and letting people in. I'm sorry I made you feel that way.”

He looked at you, his eyes softening as the walls he’d built around himself began to crumble. “I forgive you, lovely. I was just being petty...I’m sorry I shut you out,” he murmured, his hand reaching up to gently touch your cheek. “I just...didn’t know how to deal with it. I don't want you to ever see me that way.”

You pouted, you bottom lip jutting out as you cried silently, your brows furrowed to try to stop yourself mid cry.

For the first time since last night, a small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips and Minho chuckled quietly. He moved his thumb to your lip and looked at you.

"It's going to get stuck that way, Darling." He kissed them and then pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he rested his chin on top of your head, rubbing circles on your back gently as you sniffled into his chest.

“It's okay my love,” he promised softly. “I’m sorry I scared you by ignoring you.” He said guessing the exact reason why you were crying. "Shh, it's okay. It's all going to be okay..." He cooed softly as he rocked you back in forth. "I love you. So much. I love you." He placed a soft kiss on your head, and you buried into him further earning a laugh.

In that moment, everything felt right again. The weight of the misunderstanding lifted, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the quiet understanding that, no matter how sharp his edges, you would always find a way to soften them.

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ᑕᕼᗩᑎGᗷIᑎ

The next morning, the apartment was eerily quiet. Changbin hadn’t come out of the bedroom since last night, and you had spent the night tossing and turning on the couch, unable to shake the guilt that weighed heavily on your chest.

You knew you had hurt him, but what made it worse was that you hadn’t even realized how deep his insecurities ran. Changbin was always so strong, so confident - but now, you saw the cracks in the armor he wore every day. And it hurt you that you had hurt him.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage before walking to the bedroom door. You knocked softly, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Changbin?” you called out quietly. “Can I come in?”

There was a long pause before you heard him say, “Come in.”

When you opened the door, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed. He didn’t look up when you entered, and the sight of him like that broke your heart all over again.

You sat down beside him the bed dipping, close but not touching, waiting for him to speak first since it seemed all the words left your mind.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry for last night,” he said quietly, his voice filled with exhaustion. “I overreacted.” His voice was sad and quiet and you felt the power of the initial guilt amplify tenfold.

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill making it hard to speak. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough. That’s the last thing I would ever want to do, Binnie, please believe me.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, still not looking at you. “It’s not your fault. I just...I’ve always felt like I have to prove myself, and becoming an idol made that even harder, you know? Like I have to be the best since everyone is watching now. And when you said that...it just hit me in the worst way. Because it's you.”

You nodded, understanding dawning on you. “You’ve always been hard on yourself.”

Changbin let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, maybe too hard. But I don’t know how to be any other way. I feel like if I stop, if I’m not constantly pushing myself, then...I’ll lose everything. I tried so hard to get.” His eyes met yours.

Your chest tightened at his words. You knew how much he put into his work, how much he cared about being successful, not just for himself, but for everyone around him. But hearing him say it out loud, hearing the fear and vulnerability in his voice - it was almost too much to bear.

“You won’t lose anything, let alone me.” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. You had noticed the look in his eyes and wanted him to be assured that you would never leave him. “You’re already so much more than enough, baby. You’re talented, hardworking, and you care so much about everyone around you. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Especially not me. Or the guys. Or your family. We all see how much you put in everything.”

He finally looked up at you, his eyes filled with emotion. “Sometimes, it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. And when you said what you did...it felt like you were confirming it. And you're the...last person I would want to hear the from.” His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he put his forearm to his eyes. "Damn, I didn't want to cry." He mumbled. "Give me a second."

You squeezed his hand and waited for him to collect himself. Once he did you spoke, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that. I never wanted to hurt you. You mean so much to me, and I think you’re incredible just the way you are. More than I deserve, BinBin. Truly.”

Changbin’s expression softened, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing. “I know you didn’t mean it. I was just...in my head. It’s something I’ve been struggling with for a while.”

He let out a long breath, the weight of his insecurities finally surfacing. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. Especially you.”

Your heart ached at his words, and you gently cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You could never disappoint me, Changbin. I love you for who you are, not for how hard you work or how much you achieve. You’re enough, just as you are.” You look into his eyes. "You may not be perfect, but everything about you is perfect to me."

His eyes shined, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to break. But instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. You held him close, feeling his body relax against yours as the tension finally melted away.

“I’m sorry I shut you out,” he whispered against your neck. “I just didn’t know how to handle it.” His lips brushed against it softly and you felt a warmth wash over you.

You pressed a kiss to his temple just as gently, your heart swelling with love for him. “It’s okay. I'm sorry as well.”

Changbin pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I'm going to talk to you more about this stuff. I don’t want to keep shutting you out.” He kissed you again, but this time on your lips, and you felt a wetness.

You smiled softly, brushing away stray tears from his cheeks and lips. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And I mean always baby.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss, as if sealing the promise between you. Then moving into a slow and lazy kisses as he pulled you down onto the bed with him.

You stayed there, cuddled together and kissing until the early afternoon, everything just as perfect as the man beside you.

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ᕼYᑌᑎᒍIᑎ

The hours dragged on painfully after Hyunjin had left you standing in the kitchen. The apartment felt too big, too empty without him, and your mind kept replaying the argument over and over again, picking apart every word you had said, every hurtful implication that had slipped out.

You hadn’t meant to wound him. Whenever you had wounded him, you never did it intentionally. You loved him too much to do that.

You had only wanted to comfort him; to let him know he didn’t have to bear the weight of perfection like he thought he had to. You didn't want him to continue working himself to the bone; making himself tired trying to fit a mold that others wanted to fit him into. But instead, you had used your words to unintentionally cut deeper into the very insecurities he worked so hard to keep hidden.

It was nearing midnight when you finally heard the soft sound of the bedroom door opening. Hyunjin stepped out, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed from crying. He looked fragile, vulnerable in a way that broke your heart all over again.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, his voice so small it made your chest tighten with guilt.

You nodded quickly, standing up from the couch. “Of course. Of course.”

He walked over to you, sitting down on the couch beside you, though there was still a noticeable space between you. Hyunjin seemed hesitant, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his oversized sweater. He then laid his head into your lap. You hesitantly threaded your fingers through his hair, until he leaned into your touch, letting you do it freely. The silence was thick, heavy with unspoken words and raw emotions.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he began, his voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. I was...I was scared.”

You blinked, surprised by his confession, your hand pausing. “Scared? Of what?”

Hyunjin swallowed hard, his eyes half lidded as he spoke. “Scared that you see me the same way I see myself. Flawed. Not good enough. I’ve always had this fear...this feeling like I’ll never be able to live up to the version of me that people expect. And when you said what you did, I thought...I thought it was proof that even you felt that way. And I don't want you to feel like that about me. At all.” He whined quietly.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you listened to him. You had known Hyunjin struggled with self-doubt- struggled with the fact that people only saw him as a pretty face- a perfect face, but hearing him lay it all out like this, so raw and vulnerable, made your heart ache for him.

“I would never think that,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand with your free one. “You’re everything to me, Hyunjin. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, or your weren't fitting the mold others want you to fit. I only said what I did because I hate seeing you push yourself so hard. I want you to be happy. I don't want you to see yourself as flawed. We all are- but how is that any different. I love you. I don't want you to be perfect- I want you to be you.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with so much pain that it made your breath catch in your throat. “But what if I’m not good enough as me?”

Your heart broke at the vulnerability in his voice, and you squeezed his hand tighter, shaking your head, swallowing. “You are more than good enough, Hyunjin. You are so talented, so kind, and you work harder than anyone I’ve ever known. You don’t have to be perfect. Again, I love you for who you are, not who you think you should be.”

Hyunjin’s lower lip trembled, and for a moment, it looked like he might start crying again. But instead, he sat up, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His grip was tight, almost desperate, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry for pushing you away.”

You held him just as tightly, your own tears falling freely now. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here. You don't have to apologize Jinnie...”

For a long time, the two of you sat there in each other’s arms, the weight of the argument finally starting to lift. Hyunjin’s breathing eventually steadied, and you could feel the tension slowly draining from his body as he relaxed into your embrace.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still red, but there was a softness in them now, a peace that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I’ll try to be better,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll try not to let my insecurities get the best of me.”

You smiled at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I'll try to be better with my words as well. We’ll work through our issues together. You don’t have to do this alone.” You touched his cheek and smiled.

Hyunjin nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He kissed you gently. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much sincerity that it made your heart swell.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your hands gently cupping his face. “More than anything.”

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@redstayrosie @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @courtnort455

@modesttiger @night-storm7 @ka0ila

@loveyouamory

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[luvzshy]

Hey, I was thinking about a fic where Billie is dating but her girlfriend can't go on tour with her. How they would cope with that?

a/n: i would go w her 😔

stay behind

Her blue eyes flicker with excitement as she leans across the kitchen counter, talking about her upcoming tour. She’s radiant—her face animated, hands moving as she lists all the cities she’ll be visiting. Every time she talks about performing, her entire being lights up, and you’ve always loved that about her.

But now, as you listen, you feel the weight of what you’re about to say sinking in.

She pauses, smiling softly at you. “You’re coming, right? It’s gonna be insane—London, Tokyo, Paris—I need you there.”

You take a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you set your coffee cup down. “Billie…”

Her brows furrow slightly, the excitement fading from her face. “What’s wrong?”

You glance down, unable to meet the intensity of her blue eyes. It’s not that you want to stay behind, but you know you have to. “I…I don’t think I can go with you this time.”

Her expression shifts—confusion first, then the slightest hint of hurt. “Why? You’ve always been there.” She lets out a nervous laugh, but it’s hollow. “What changed?”

You swallow hard, feeling the lump in your throat. “It’s not that I don’t want to. You know I do. I want to be with you in every city, watching you do what you love. But… I have responsibilities here. I can’t just leave everything behind.”

She blinks, the realization settling in. “You’re saying you won’t come at all? Not even for part of it?”

You shake your head slowly, hating the way her face falls. “Not this time.”

The silence between you stretches on. She leans back in her chair, running a hand through her hair as she tries to make sense of it. You can see the gears turning in her mind, searching for a way to change this, to convince you. She’s always been good at fixing things, but this time… this isn’t something that can be fixed.

“I don’t understand,” she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve always made it work before.”

“I know.” Your voice cracks, and it’s hard to keep speaking. “But this time… it’s different. I can’t just drop everything and go. I have to stay.”

Her blue eyes, usually so bright and full of life, dim with disappointment. “So what does that mean? For us?”

Your chest tightens. You know how much she hates being alone on tour. She relies on you during the quiet moments, the nights when the hotel room feels too big. The thought of her being out there without you, thousands of miles away, breaks your heart, but you can’t change what has to be done.

“We’ll make it work,” you say, trying to smile, even though it doesn’t feel convincing. “We always do.”

She stares at you, her gaze piercing, as if she’s searching for something in your face—some reassurance, some comfort.

“I don’t want to do this without you,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

You reach across the table, taking her hand. Her fingers are cold, trembling slightly in yours. “I know. And I don’t want you to feel alone, but this is just how it has to be.”

She pulls her hand away, standing up abruptly. The frustration is clear in the way she starts pacing, her hands tugging at her hair. “You don’t get it,” she says, louder now, more desperate. “I need you there. I can’t… I can’t do this alone.”

You stand up, moving toward her, but she steps back, keeping distance between you. “Billie, I’m still here. I’ll always be here.”

“Not with me,” she snaps, and the crack in her voice hits you like a punch in the gut. “How am I supposed to feel okay with this? How am I supposed to be anywhere without you?”

You close the distance between you and wrap your arms around her, even though she tries to pull away. After a moment, she melts into your embrace, her head resting against your shoulder. You feel her tears soaking into your shirt, and your own vision blurs.

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper into her hair, your voice barely steady. “I love you. That’s not going to change.”

She pulls back slightly, her face streaked with tears, but there’s still that spark in her eyes—a flicker of hope. “Promise me,” she says, her voice small. “Promise me we’ll make it through this.”

You nod, pressing your forehead against hers. “I promise.”

For a long moment, you just hold each other, both of you clinging to the hope that love will be enough. There’s so much uncertainty, so much that you can’t control, but here, in this moment, none of that matters.

All that matters is the two of you.

For now.

[innerfare]

Random Kid Headcanons 

Summary: A random collection of Sir Crocodile headcanons

CW: None // SFW

———

Jams to music in his workshop. Most of the time, it’s metal. Likes pop music; would rather die than admit it. Sometimes, being on the Victoria Punk feels like being in a musical. Drums with his eating utensils at meal times. Has diverted course because he heard about a rock concert on a different island than the one his crew was initially headed for. 

Pretty messy, TBH. Always has clothes strewn around his room, can never tell which ones are clean and which ones are dirty. Everything he owns has some sort of oil, grease, or lipstick stain on it. Also has lots of holes in his clothes, claims it’s grunge but really he’s just too lazy to mend them or doesn’t feel like buying replacements. 

Drinks milk, orange juice, etc. straight out of the carton and puts it back in the fridge. Also dips his grimy hands into chip and trail mix bags. And if he’s cutting bread for a sandwich, he’ll do it directly on the counter; brushes his crumbs on the floor after. 

Has used a steel scouring pad to get dried blood and oil off his skin before, and regularly uses dish soap to wash his hair. Thinks dishwasher soap and dish soap are the same thing, and that they’re the same thing as hand soap. Doesn’t know what fabric softener is. (If you decide to date this man, you will definitely have your work cut out for you; he’s a stray and it shows in his daily habits.) 

That being said, he’s very picky about cosmetics. He only uses a certain shade of eyeliner, a certain brand of lipstick, and always uses a top coat when he paints his nails. He doesn’t, however, use makeup remover, meaning he usually wakes up with raccoon eyes. 

Literally so dramatic, probably has a smoke machine somewhere on the Victoria Punk. 

Has a notorious temper (as if we don’t already know). Snaps over small things. Blames others for moving his stuff because he can never keep track of anything, only to find he was the one who did it. Will never admit to being wrong. The temper can be confusing, too, because he often shows affection by making fun of people and even punching them (granted they’re strong enough to take a friendly punch). If he yells at you, he hates you, but also, if he yells at you, he loves you- oh, and he refuses to elaborate. 

Uses his devil fruit powers to give members of his crew free piercings. Pierced Killer’s nipples after he (Killer) lost a bet. Has considered piercing his own nipples, thinks it would look sick. 

Once accidentally drank oil instead of coffee when he was working in his workshop one night because he confused the canister for his coffee mug. 

Drinks his coffee black, and not in a performative “I’m a man so I hate cream and sugar” kind of way. Genuinely enjoys his coffee black and bitter, the stronger the better. 

Has the sort of mechanical brain that just has to fix things. If someone mentions a hinge is squeaking, a piece of something broke off, etc., he’s dealing with it almost immediately. Will lose track of time trying to repair things, once without realizing spent four hours trying to fix a can opener that Killer said needed to be thrown away. Has definitely taken things apart before to figure out how they work and then not put them back together because he got distracted (has undiagnosed ADHD for sure). 

Smokes, but only ever late at night and when he’s alone. They’re his contemplative cigarettes, a little something to take the edge off and keep his hands occupied while the gears in his brain are turning. I.e., treats his late night cigarettes as a fidget spinner. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[aniesvision]

𝟑- 𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒆

𐂃 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕, 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕, 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎! 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕, 𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒙, 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅, 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔

I fix my lipstick one last time and smile at my reflection in the mirror. I looked nice and it had been a while since I'd been out partying, so all I wanted was to attract a bit of attention and enjoy my evening. To be specific, I wanted a not-so-random look on me.

Ever since I met the famous Sturniolo triplets, I've felt that something was missing from my relationship with Matt. We got along well, we flirted jokingly, we looked at each other all the time, it was as if it was obvious that there was a certain tension, but neither of us ever did anything about it.

I intended to change that, and I had strategically prepared myself, knowing that he'd like what he was going to see. I got into my car, started it and drove down the street to the address of the party.

The place was full of people, some laughing with cups in their hands, others smoking, the usual cliché of any house party.

I pushed my way through the others, doing what I could to get inside the house without having my clothes ruined by spilled alcohol.

It didn't take long for me to find the youngest brother, Chris, anchored to the fridge while reaching for an unopened can of Pepsi.

-Hey! Where're the boys? —I asked, making him look at me and smile.

We gave each other a quick hug and he took me with him to his brothers, who were in the backyard with a small circle of friends.

Immediately, before I was even 100% in Matt's field of vision, I felt his gaze on me. He scanned me from bottom to top, trying to be discreet, but with a smirk on his lips that made me want to jump into his lap and kiss him all night.

He looked absurdly handsome, wearing black pants from Chris's collection, white airforces, a basic black shirt and his usual silver necklace with a horse pendant. And the same old earrings.

I greeted everyone in the circle, leaving Matt for last on purpose. Our hug was a little longer, but nothing out of the ordinary. I stood next to him, adjusting my purse on my shoulder as I looked around and tried my best to ignore his gaze on me.

-You look beautiful. —He said, almost in a whisper, close to my ear, making me shiver.

Before I could reply, a smile was already on my face and I looked at him shyly, which was a bad thing. I shouldn't be so affected by a simple sentence, especially when he was just a friend.

I decide to get myself a drink, nothing alcoholic because I'm driving, but just to clear my throat. I fill a cup with an energy drink and take a few sips before walking back through the crowd of people in the house.

I returned to the backyard, meeting Matt's gaze again, but was stopped before I could reach him. A random guy with black hair and green eyes approached me with compliments and small talk that I wasn't in the mood for until I looked back at Matt and saw his jaw clenched.

He watched me as if my every move would determine the rest of the night, and now I felt the same way. There's nothing wrong with a little teasing, specially if it's finally going to change things between the two of us.

-Yeah, I'm single. —That was the only answer I gave the boy in front of me, making sure to say it loud enough for Matt to hear as well, considering he wasn't so far away.

He was doing everything he could not to get out of there and come over here to tell this guy to fuck off, I could see it in his frustrated look. At this point he wasn't even trying to hide or disguise his jealousy anymore, and it was funny to me that I was able to affect him like that.

I let the guy talk a little longer and get a little closer, but before our lips met I pulled away and made some excuse to go back into the house. He tried to follow me, but an arm around my waist made him think again.

-She's not available. —Matt's serious and firm, though still soft, voice stopped the green-eyed man from coming any closer.

I smile when I see Matt's annoyed face, leading me through the crowd to a mostly empty hall and opening a few doors until he found an empty bathroom and locked us in.

I look into his eyes, which are almost completely black from the dilated pupils, and make the best confused face while leaning against the sink.

-What was that? —I ask, almost sounding innocent, feeling his hands place themselves on either side of my body.

-What was that? —He repeats, sarcastically, with a scoff.

-Were you really going to let that guy kiss you? —He asks, looking irritated.

His angry face made him even more attractive than usual. I let my hands wander down his arms, staring at his tattoos in the process.

-Can't I let a cute guy kiss me? —My voice comes out low, seductive, and I focus on his eyes once again.

He's looking at me intently, his breathing already faster than usual. His hands find my hips, squeezing them tightly and lowering his body to the right level to whisper in my ear.

-Only I can flirt with you like that. —Our bodies cling to each other and my nails instinctively dig into his skin, leaving light red marks on his arms.

-If you don't want other guys flirting with me, you better make me yours. —I say, making him smile and place one of his hands on my face, moving his thumb to my bottom lip and scanning every detail of my face with his gaze.

-You're already mine.

His sentence was definitive enough to put an end to any doubts, and finally our lips met in a kiss that at first was delicate, soft and full of feelings, but soon became urgent.

His kisses went down to my neck, exploring the whole area and making my breathing become irregular, releasing the air through my mouth in sighs of pleasure.

It wasn't long before we were kissing again, enjoying every second that hadn't happened before. My free hand went down his body, finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it slightly, indicating that he should take it off, which he did. Soon enough we were both just on our underwears, desperate to feel more.

-I really liked your outfit, but you look much better without it. —Matt said, looking me up and down.

Running a hand down my body, he lightly brushed his fingers across my still-covered pussy so he could feel just how wet I already was.

A smile showed on his face and he kissed me again, going down to my neck, unclasping my bra and moving on to my breasts. He left wet kisses, running his tongue over my nipples and squeezing my boobs, leaving purple marks.

His mouth moved down my body, stopping when he reached the hem of my panties. He looked at me as if to ask permission and I nodded in affirmation. He carefully removed my panties and first ran his fingers around my clit, quickly kneeling in front of me and moving one of my legs to his shoulder.

His eyes never left mine when his mouth found my pussy. His tongue ran from top to bottom, zigzagged and moved in circles, making me moan loudly, not even caring that someone could hear it if they were nearby.

-Matt! Oh my God, don't stop. —His name sounded like a melody from my lips and it only made him go faster.

Just as I was about to reach my climax, he slipped two of his fingers into me, moving them at the same speed as his tongue. His name came out of my mouth as a moan and inspired him to continue, my fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and my head falling back in pleasure was all it took for me to reach my high and come in his mouth.

-You taste so fucking good. —He says, taking his fingers out of me and licking them clean with a smile on his face. I smiled back, helping him up and taking off his boxers.

-My turn to taste you. —I say, getting down on my knees and taking his cock in one hand, leaving the other on his thigh, scratching it lightly.

He looks at me with desire and holds my hair in a makeshift ponytail. I run my tongue lightly all over his dick, hearing him sigh, and then I kitty lick the tip, engulfing him without any warning.

I started sucking on it, bobbing my head to take in all I could fit. I could feel his hand pressing down on my head to make me go deeper and from time to time moans escaped his mouth, like a melody I'd like to hear forever.

I continued sucking him and playing with his balls with my free hand while the other stroked the rest of his member that I couldn't take into my mouth. With no warning, Matt comes down my throat, making me swallow every drop of the warm liquid.

I stand up, running my thumb around the corner of my mouth and sucking it clean. Matt turns me around in a sudden movement, making me look at myself in the mirror with my breasts resting on the cold sink and my ass tilted towards his body.

He holds all my hair in one hand and with the other he teases my pussy with his tip.

-You're going to look at me while I'm fucking you so you'll understand that I'm the only one who can flirt with you, kiss you and make you feel good.

He says, before thrusting all of him in at once. The sensation made me almost scream in shock and pleasure, and my eyes soon met Matt's in the reflection of the mirror. He looked so hot with that serious face, and after making that speech all I wanted to do was kiss him and tell him that I had always been his.

Matt continued to fuck me hard, making me almost hit my head on the mirror with the force of his thrusts. My moans came out freely and he pulled my hair every time I got distracted and lost his gaze, forcing me to open my eyes again and watch him fucking me.

A pitchy moan leaves my lips as his hand gets in contact with my ass harshly, for sure leaving a red mark, and he continues spanking it for a while, making tears form in the corners of my eyes. I could feel my legs shaking and I knew my orgasm was coming.

He didn't stop thrusting into me until I was cumming on his cock, and that seemed to be all it took for him to cum too, as I could feel his liquid filling me.

My eyes were closed as I tried to catch my breath and he grabbed pieces of toilet paper for us to wipe ourselves with. After we'd put our clothes back on and looked presentable enough, Matt grabbed my waist and pulled me closer to him.

-I mean it, I want you to be mine.

I smile when I hear it, my heart still beating fast. I knew tonight was going to change something in our dynamic, but I didn't know he felt the same, that he wanted to be together as much as I wanted to.

-I'm already yours, Matt.

He smiles back, giving me a sweet delicate kiss that didn't match at all the rough persona he was just a second ago. I let out a laugh and he looked at me as he unlocked the bathroom door.

-I'm going to have to make you jealous more often if you're going to react like that every time.

Matt rolls his eyes, but with a smile on his face, and interlaces our fingers, leading me out of the bathroom with him.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

➪ @riowritesitall @mattsfavbigtitties @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @flow3rsturns13 @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @sturnsxbitvh @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @starnoirr @katie-tibo @sturnioloblues @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @sharkcat1928 @phimstarz @h3arts4harry @s1ut4chris @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @jupiter1700 @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713

[crazymuffin1]

this post is for people who wonder what the hell is going on with the venom movies/fandom because they havent watched it

if youre seeing it on your dash and dont want to scroll very long press J. if youre on mobile. cope.

venom the last dance is the third movie in the venom series and people who haven't watched the movies are probably wondering whats going on. whoever you're following has probably posted or reblogged some sort of eddie brock x venom thing. yes of course. mlm ships are popular and theyre the main characters. of course theyre gonna get shipped. just like stucky or other hot main male characters. nothing really special about these guys. right?

wrong! because as opposed to the other ones being non-canon ships where we just look at everything and say "thats gay" or look at it through shipping tinted glasses, symbrock is a bit special.

to start off with! the source material! the comics! im not gonna make this part long, just a bunch of images with short descriptions and you can interpret it however you want (click for full image)

panels ofter referred to as "the ones where they have sex"

no comment

even spider-man knows

aaaaaand the comic writers/artists also know

theres more (like how they have a kid and eddie experienced morning sickness...) but this is about the movie! not the comics!

first movie moments. im skipping smaller moments and i'll try to not write out the whole plot.

eddie and venom go through a whole car chase scene on a motorbike, and the moment eddie calls him cool, they get his by a car. often interpreted as venom losing focus from the praise

-omg why would that lead to venom losing focus?? because venom, on its planet, is a loser. bottom of the barrel. an outcast. and someone called it cool. venom sees that eddie is also a bit of a loser on his planet. theyre two losers together. Eddie asks why he doesnt just kill him and hop to another host, but venom says that hes a good match (other bodies reject the symbiote, and die from organ failure/eaten from the inside) and venom is "starting to like him" venom also gets a bit stuck on the moment that eddie says we instead of i. its both of them. together.

later eddie finds out his organs were failing (venom was starving and was working on fixing it) and when they get seperated the way he acts is kind of framed like a bad breakup. its not "im free from this parasite! yippie!" its "i trusted you and you hurt me. we're done" sort of breakup. venom tries to say he was trying to fix it but eddie ignores it (not the exact words but if you look at it you'll get it)

eddie gets taken away by the bad guys and venom hops on eddies ex and they reunite. and its not just reunite.

its this

thumbnail shows human face but it does not start off with that.

fun fact! theres a sort of deleted scene where eddie asks "who was i kissing just then?" and she says "mostly me" and then we hear venoms voice saying "well actually it was mostly me!" ALSO at the end of the movie, she says it was venoms idea. this was venom and eddie making out. not eddie and his ex. they do not get back together. she has a new boyfriend and they've moved in together so its serious.

venoms original purpose as to why the symbiotes are on earth was as a scouting party for an invasion force. venom changes his mind on being on the invasion part. eddie asks what REALLY made him change his mind "you did eddie."

also after the movie was in theaters they made an additional romcom trailer to promo the dvd/blueray release. the movie. framed as a romcom. im not kidding. on sonys official youtube. for both movies.

speaking of both movies, the second one has them breaking up! full on divorce after fighting and arguing!! very sad. and then venom goes to a rave (october, there are costumes, hes fully transformed) and says "i am out! of the eddie closet!" HES COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET. one person at the rave has a mask on that says "kiss me" and venom says "sorry no, not my type" THEN WHAT IS YOUR TYPE HUH??? MEN?? SWEATY LOSER GUYS??? his hosts keep failing because theyre not as compatible as eddie. and after having fun venom is sad and wishes eddie could've seen him. they of course, get back together* after some apologizes and because they need to fight a serial killer who also has a symbiote (carnage) because previously, they went to interview him, he insulted eddie, venom got mad on eddies behalf and grabbed him, resulting in getting bit, and that spawned a new symbiote from the blood. also the serial killer, (cletus kassidy) went to bust out his girlfriend who upon seeing his tentacles breaking her glass cage, called it hot.

*when they get reunited (anne helps out again) theres no kiss this time, and annes fiancee, after seeing them fight, says "those two need some serious couples counseling"

after a big climactic fight and mutual reassuring that theyre a perfect match for one another, they flee to some random place in mexico where they sort of have a love confession. theres an extended deleted version of it but i think many of us think they cut it down to save it for the third movie. also they get transported to the mcu in the post-credit and then re-appear in the post-credit of spider-man where theyre just sitting at a bar asking the bartender about the blip and thanos. venom decides to go skinny dip but they get transported back to their universe. net zero gain.

THE THIRD MOVIE

hasnt come out yet. but the promotional things. the trailer. my god the tiktoks and twitter clips?? WHY IS THE TIKTOK VIDEO CAPTION VENOM X EDDIE 4EVER??? HUH???? WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME!?!?! IF I GET QUEERBAITED IM GONNA EXPLODE WHY IS ONE OF THEM FRAMED LIKE A COUPLES COUNSELING HELP GUIDE.

i cant post this one on tumblr but this tiktok is a slideshow, one image of venom and eddie from each movie, and the background song is "I've loved you three summer Lover - Taylor swift" with the caption "it's a love love relationship"

WE JUST WANT THEM TO KISS AGAIN AND HAVE A MUTUAL, EXPLICIT, LOVE CONFESSION. AND HAVE 4 HOURS TENTACLESEX SCENE. (not necessarily in that order)

and the first trailer that came out for venom3 has the line"eddie, my home [long pause] has found us" like girrrrrllll for a full 3 seconds i thought he was saying that eddie is his home.

[srslyblvck]

the devil you know, avengers

pairing: avengers x fem!reader

synopsis: the avengers seem really desperate as they come to you—the person who went under their skin like no one else to help them win against hydra. while they are walking on eggshells around you, you are having fun causing chaos.

warnings: mentions of y/n (maybe), blood, violence, gore

word count: 3.1k

chapter: 1/?

series masterlist

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE LAST TIME YOU fought the Avengers, you didn’t just leave a mark—you left scars. They were supposed to be Earth’s mightiest heroes, but they couldn’t even handle you alone. Your power wasn’t just raw strength or fancy tech. No, you were chaos, untamed and unpredictable. You had fun, didn’t you? Watching them scramble, trying to keep up as you dismantled their team, piece by piece.

The streets of New York were your playground. Thor swung his hammer, lightning crackling in the air, but you were faster. You sidestepped, sending him crashing into a nearby building. Tony tried to come at you from the skies, a barrage of missiles raining down. With a flick of your wrist, you sent them spiraling back into his suit, and watched with a smirk as he plummeted to the ground.

Then there was Natasha, sharp, lethal, and far too clever for her own good. She tried to get close, slipping through the chaos to land a blow. You almost admired her for that. Almost. But you caught her wrist before her knife could make contact, twisting it just enough to disarm her without snapping it—because where’s the fun in ending the game too soon?

And Steve, Captain America himself. Righteous, noble, irritatingly persistent. He charged at you, shield raised, eyes burning with determination. But his resolve only made you more excited. You met him head-on, your strength colliding with his as you deflected the shield with a grin. You knew it wouldn’t last forever. You knew they’d eventually overwhelm you with numbers or some sneaky trick. But that didn’t matter. For a while, you were winning. And that’s all that mattered.

It had taken all of them, working together, to finally bring you down. And when they did, they didn't leave you in some cushy maximum-security prison. No, they put you in The Raft—the highest of high-security prisons for supervillains. They wanted to make sure you couldn’t wriggle out and wreak havoc again.

Funny thing is, you didn't mind.

You lounge in your cell at the Raft, feet kicked up, arms folded behind your head. The guards pass by occasionally, but they don’t bother with you much anymore. No point. You’re the least troublesome prisoner they’ve got here. Not exactly the model inmate, but you’ve made it clear you weren’t going anywhere. You didn’t mind the Raft—no noisy world, no chaotic battles, just peace. Besides, you always enjoyed the looks people gave you. The way they seemed unsure if you were calm or just waiting to snap.

“Psychotic,” they called you. Maybe they weren’t wrong. But if that’s what it takes to keep things interesting, then so be it.

The Avengers. Now that’s where the fun had been. Fighting them, teasing them, pushing them to their limits. Especially Stark. He hated that he could never figure you out. You’d gotten under their skin in a way no one else had. And even though you were eventually caught, dragged off to this fortress in the middle of the ocean, it didn’t feel like defeat. No, it felt more like… a vacation.

The tension in the Avengers HQ could be cut with a knife. Seated around the long, sleek table, everyone had their eyes fixed on the glowing hologram floating in the center, displaying a map riddled with flashing Hydra insignias.

“Hydra’s moving faster than we thought,” Tony Stark said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “They’ve got new tech, new firepower, and something else—something we don’t understand yet.”

Steve Rogers leaned forward, his jaw set in that familiar determined way. “We’ve taken down Hydra before. We can do it again.”

“We didn’t take them down,” Natasha Romanoff chimed in. “We knocked them back. This is different, Steve. Their intel’s better. Their strategy is… smarter.”

Steve crossed his arms, frowning deeply. “We are the Avengers. We have faced threats from beyond this world. Surely this Hydra can be beaten.”

Bruce Banner, quiet until now, shook his head. “No, Steve. This isn’t like our usual enemies. Hydra’s moving like they know every step we’re going to take before we make it. And whatever they're building—it’s got enough gamma signatures to make me nervous.”

That last statement made everyone pause. Even Clint Barton, who’d been silently fidgeting with an arrow, stilled his hands.

“Great,” Clint muttered. “So not only are they out-thinking us, they’ve got Banner-level problems in their back pocket. Awesome.”

Sam Wilson leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the hologram. “There’s got to be a way to track them. Cut them off before they finish building… whatever that is.”

“I’ve tried,” Rhodey said, his voice exasperated. “Hydra’s cloaking this thing like it’s Fort Knox, and every time I send in recon, we come up empty-handed.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Everyone was thinking the same thing, even if no one wanted to say it. The Avengers were backed into a corner, and they hated being in this position. Hydra had outmaneuvered them before—but never like this.

Tony leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "There’s one option we haven’t considered."

Steve’s eyes snapped to Tony, immediately suspicious. “What’s that?”

Tony glanced around the room, hesitation clear on his face for the first time in a while. “We bring in someone who knows how to deal with these kinds of dirty tactics. Someone who’s unpredictable… dangerous.”

“Oh, no,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “We’re not doing this.”

“What?” Clint asked, glancing between them. “What are we not doing?”

“You know exactly who he’s talking about,” Natasha replied, her voice cold.

Bucky Barnes, sitting quietly in the corner, shifted in his seat. “You mean her.”

“Yup.” Tony gave a tight smile. “her.”

“You can’t be serious, Stark,” Steve said, his tone edging into anger. “That… that psycho is locked up for a reason.”

“Yeah, well, unless you’ve got any other brilliant ideas for how to get through Hydra’s defences, I’m all ears,” Tony shot back, standing up now. “I get it, Cap. She's not exactly on our Christmas card list, but facts are facts. When we fought her, she nearly wiped the floor with us. She's good—too good.”

“That’s because she's insane,” Bucky said, his voice low, dangerous. “You think she's going to help us out of the goodness of her heart?”

“No, but she’ll help because she likes causing chaos, and right now, chaos is what we need,” Tony replied.

Bruce, still seated, raised a hand. “You’re suggesting we trust someone who has a history of, uh, not playing by the rules?”

“I’m suggesting we use someone who’s good at breaking things. We can handle the clean-up afterward,” Tony said. His tone was sharp, but there was logic behind it.

Steve stood up, crossing his arms, clearly trying to contain his frustration. “No way. We’re not that desperate.”

“We might be,” Sam said, leaning back in his chair, though his expression was skeptical. “I don’t like it either, but Tony has a point. Hydra’s not playing fair. Maybe we need someone who knows how to play dirtier.”

“I’m not working with her,” Steve said firmly. “We don’t need someone like that. We’ve beaten Hydra before.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” Clint muttered under his breath. “Not when they’ve got the upper hand.”

Rhodey, who’d been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “I hate to say it, but we’re out of options. We need something to break this deadlock. Even if it’s a wildcard.”

Steve clenched his jaw. “This is a mistake.”

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Probably. But we don’t have time to sit around and weigh the pros and cons. Every minute we waste, Hydra’s getting closer to finishing whatever nightmare they’re cooking up. We need to act.”

There was a long pause as the team exchanged glances, weighing their options. No one wanted to admit it, but they were out of ideas. And you were the only person who could help.

Steve finally exhaled, nodding once. “Fine. But if this goes sideways, it’s on you, Stark.”

Tony gave a small, triumphant smirk. “Trust me, Cap, I’ve got it handled.”

When they arrived at the Raft, the air was thick with tension. The Avengers weren’t exactly the kind of people who made house calls to criminals, and it showed on their faces as they were led down the long, sterile corridor toward your cell.

You knew they were coming long before they reached you. Hydra must have had them in knots for them to come crawling back to you. The idea was almost enough to make you laugh.

Lying on the small cot in your cell, your arms stretched behind your head, you kept your eyes closed. The hum of the Raft was soothing, a far cry from the chaos of the outside world. It was almost meditative.

Then, the cell door slid open with a sharp buzz, but you didn’t bother moving.

“Stark,” you said lazily, eyes still closed, voice dripping with amusement. “What, come to throw a going-away party?”

The Avengers stood before you, and when you opened your eyes, you didn’t miss the mix of tension and frustration on their faces.

“We need your help,” Tony said bluntly, cutting straight to the chase.

You sat up slowly, a lazy grin spreading across your face. “You must be really desperate to come to me for help.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but you raised a finger, cutting him off. “Let me guess. Hydra’s doing something nasty, and you’re stuck. Can’t get your shiny suits dirty, so you come to me, the wildcard.”

Steve glared at you from the back. “This isn’t a joke.”

You grinned wider. “Oh, I know it’s not, Captain. But I have to say… this is going to be fun.”

The Avengers stood there, tense, unsure. And you? You were in control, and it felt fantastic.

You strolled into the Avengers compound, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, wrists cuffed in front of you with those annoying power-suppressing restraints. They’d made sure of that, didn’t they?

Of course, they had. The Avengers weren’t stupid. At least, not completely.

Around you, the team walked in a tight formation, like you were some kind of wild animal they needed to keep on a leash. Tony was up ahead, chatting with FRIDAY about god knows what, Steve right beside him, walking with that stiff-shouldered tension that was so him. Behind you, Natasha and Clint followed, their eyes boring holes into the back of your head. You could almost feel Bucky’s glare from across the room, like he was daring you to make a wrong move.

But you weren’t going to make a scene. Not yet.

“Gotta say,” you drawled, glancing around the compound, taking in the high-tech security, the polished floors, the holographic displays flickering along the walls. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Real homey.”

You whistled softly, admiring the upgrades. The last time you’d seen the compound—well, it hadn’t exactly been in one piece. You might’ve had something to do with that, but hey, nobody’s perfect.

“Hope you didn’t put in too much work fixing it up after our last meeting,” you added with a grin, turning toward Tony. “Wouldn’t want all that effort to go to waste.”

Tony didn’t miss a beat, glancing over his shoulder at you with a raised eyebrow. “Funny. I seem to remember you being more concerned with trying to take my head off than interior design critique.”

“Potato, po-tah-to,” you said with a shrug, as if it was all just some fun memory. You could feel the others bristling behind you, no doubt regretting this decision more with every word you spoke.

Steve’s jaw clenched, his voice low and commanding. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Easy there, Cap,” you replied, enjoying how his fists tightened just a bit more. “I’m here to help, remember? Or did you bring me back just for my sparkling personality?”

“Let’s not test that theory,” Natasha cut in, her voice cool but sharp. “You’re on a short leash here.”

You grinned wider, turning to give her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

The group led you further into the compound, and you let yourself take it all in. It was strange being back here, walking freely (well, as freely as the cuffs allowed) through their precious headquarters. Last time you were here, they’d been chasing you down, trying to stop you from doing what you did best—causing chaos. Now, they were practically welcoming you with open arms.

Funny how things changed when they needed you.

As you passed by one of the large windows, you caught a glimpse of the sprawling training grounds outside. Stark’s money had definitely gone into this place—it was a fortress. High-tech, polished, the works. But beneath all that shine, you knew what was really going on. Desperation. They wouldn’t have come to you unless they had no other choice.

“So, what’s the play?” you asked, breaking the silence as you sauntered forward, hands still shackled but your posture loose and casual. “You bring me in, throw me at Hydra, hope I don’t enjoy myself too much?”

“You’re going to do what we tell you,” Steve said firmly. “No more, no less.”

You met his gaze, that stoic, unflinching look he always gave, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Yeah, sure. That’s exactly how this is gonna go.”

Clint, ever the quick shot with a retort, piped up. “If you don’t follow orders, we’ll make sure you regret it.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch Clint’s eye, your grin widening. “You threatening me, Barton? I thought we were all friends now.”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. Behind you, you could sense Bruce watching quietly, keeping his distance but always on edge, probably ready to Hulk out the second you made a wrong move. Bucky was the same—silent, seething. Everyone in the room knew you were a threat. Everyone knew that the cuffs on your wrists were the only thing keeping you from unleashing a storm.

But what they didn’t know was that you were actually enjoying this little game. They were walking on eggshells around you, pretending they had everything under control, but you could feel the tension crackling in the air. It was palpable. Delicious.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence again as you strolled past the holographic displays, glancing at one that showed a map of Hydra’s activity. “What exactly is it you need me to do?”

“You’re not in a position to ask questions,” Steve answered, his voice firm and unyielding.

You rolled your eyes. “Still playing the Boy Scout, huh? Fine. I’ll bite. But just so you know, I’m not here for the teamwork, Captain.”

Tony let out a small chuckle at that. “We’re not exactly looking for team spirit. We need someone unpredictable. Someone who can get into Hydra without raising alarms.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I’m your guy,” you said with a wink. “Hydra and I go way back. They’ll be thrilled to see me again.”

“And that’s what worries us,” Natasha replied, eyes narrowing as she studied you. “You’ve got a history with them. We’re not letting you go in unsupervised.”

You sighed, feigning disappointment. “Always so serious, Romanoff. Fine, keep your watchdogs on me. Just don’t blame me when I get bored.”

The group finally stopped in front of one of the briefing rooms, Tony gesturing for you to enter first. You raised your cuffed hands slightly, giving them a little shake. “And these?” you asked. “Gonna make it a little hard to do anything useful.”

“They stay on until we’re sure you’re not going to turn this into a free-for-all,” Steve said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You stepped through the door with a shrug. “Whatever you say, Captain.”

As you entered the briefing room, the large screen lit up with detailed schematics of Hydra’s new operation. Bases, weapons, movements—things even you hadn’t seen before. It was impressive. Even more impressive that they were willing to trust you with this kind of information.

Then again, trust was a fragile thing here, wasn’t it?

You took a seat at the table, leaning back in the chair as best you could with your hands still cuffed, watching the Avengers file in around you. Tension filled the room like a thick fog, everyone waiting to see what you’d do next.

“Well,” you said, kicking your feet up onto the table, flashing them a cocky grin. “This should be fun.”

The briefing room hummed with energy, a silent current of tension hanging thick between you and the Avengers. Tony took his place at the head of the table, arms crossed, tapping his fingers against his bicep impatiently. Steve stood just behind him, the shield slung across his back, his posture stiff. The others filtered in, taking up their positions like chess pieces ready for a match.

You leaned back in your chair, cuffed hands resting on the table in front of you, a lazy smirk playing on your lips. “Alright,” you said, stretching your legs out. “Why don’t we cut to the chase? What’s the big Hydra mess you need me for?”

Tony glanced at Steve, who gave him a short nod, the silent agreement of reluctant allies. Tony activated a holographic display on the table, bringing up a 3D map of several cities across the globe. Red dots flickered ominously, marking Hydra's known operations.

“You already know Hydra’s been rebuilding,” Tony began, his tone sharp and focused. “But this isn’t their usual underground terrorist network anymore. They’ve got something bigger, more coordinated. And now, they’ve been making moves we can’t trace. Military-grade weapons, tech we haven’t seen before, and worst of all, something that’s throwing up red flags on our radiation sensors.”

“Gamma signatures,” Bruce chimed in, his face serious. “A lot of them.”

Your eyebrow lifted, intrigued. “Gamma, huh? That sounds like fun. They planning on making their own Hulk? Gotta say, that’s a bold move.”

“It’s worse than that,” Bruce continued, eyes darkening. “They’ve been siphoning gamma energy from somewhere, but we don’t know what it’s for yet. And if they’re storing it, they could be trying to build a weapon.”

“Something big enough to level cities,” Natasha added, her voice cold. “Or worse.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Always with the doomsday weapons. Hydra really doesn’t know how to take a break, do they?”

Clint gave you a hard look. “This isn’t a joke. If they get this thing operational, it’s game over for a lot of people. Not even you want that kind of chaos.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” you quipped, leaning forward slightly. “But go on. Tell me what makes you think I care enough to get involved.”

Steve stepped forward, leaning on the table as his blue eyes locked onto yours with that intense, all-business stare of his. “Because you know Hydra. You know how they think. And you know their tactics better than anyone we’ve got. If we go in guns blazing, they’ll see us coming from miles away. But you? You can walk right in.”

You tilted your head, considering. “And you think I’ll just play nice, follow your lead, and do exactly what you want?”

Steve’s jaw clenched. “No. I think you’ll do it because you love playing the game. And because if Hydra gets their hands on this weapon, even you won’t be safe. They’ll come after everyone—Avengers, civilians, people like you.”

Tony stepped in, his expression tight but calculated. “We need someone who can play dirty. Someone who can think like Hydra, act like Hydra, and blend in without setting off alarms. That’s you.”

Bucky, sitting quietly to your left, finally spoke. His voice was low, dangerous. “They’ll kill you the second they get the chance. You know that, right?”

You turned to Bucky, flashing him a grin. “Hydra’s always had a soft spot for me, Barnes. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

Tony flicked the hologram again, zooming in on a specific location—a heavily guarded Hydra facility buried deep in Eastern Europe, surrounded by military checkpoints and defense grids. “This is the target,” he said. “We’ve been monitoring this base for weeks. It’s their hub for whatever project they’re working on. It’s locked down tighter than anything we’ve seen before. We tried sending in a team, but they didn’t get far. Too many layers of security.”

“Layers I can bypass,” you concluded, smirking at the challenge. “Alright, I’ll admit, it sounds like fun. But what makes you think I won’t just stroll in, grab what I want, and leave you all hanging?”

Natasha, leaning against the wall, finally stepped forward, her gaze cold and calculating. “Because you know what happens if Hydra finishes whatever they’re building. You’ve got a history of playing both sides, but even you can’t outrun a bomb that size. And let's be real—you hate losing control more than anything. Hydra’s playing a game you’re not a part of right now.”

You tilted your head, the smile slipping just a little. “So what? You’re offering me a chance to take them down from the inside?”

“We’re offering you a chance to prove you’re not as self-destructive as we think you are,” Steve replied, voice steady but firm. “This isn’t just about us. It’s about keeping Hydra from leveling cities and killing millions. You help us stop them, and maybe—just maybe—you walk out of this without a target on your back.”

The room went quiet, the weight of the situation sinking in. You leaned back, letting the silence stretch out as you considered your options. They weren’t wrong—Hydra was dangerous, even to you. And sure, there was a part of you that liked chaos, liked toying with the line between hero and villain. But even you had limits.

“You really think this will work?” you asked, locking eyes with Tony.

Tony’s expression softened slightly, just enough to show a glimmer of trust. “I think it’s our best shot.”

Another beat of silence passed. Then, with a slow grin, you nodded.

“Alright, I’m in,” you said, sitting up straighter in the chair. “But let’s get one thing clear. I’m not here to be your hero. I’m here because I like to win. Hydra made this personal when they tried to cut me out of the fun.”

Steve straightened, arms crossed. “As long as you follow our lead.”

You shot him a wink. “No promises, Captain.”

The team exchanged a few tense glances, but the decision had been made. You were in. And, for now at least, that was all that mattered.

“Good,” Tony said, the hologram flickering away. “We move out tomorrow. FRIDAY will upload the mission details to your room.”

You grinned wider. “A room, huh? How fancy.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Natasha said as she turned toward the door, her voice flat. “This isn’t a vacation.”

You chuckled, rising to your feet. The cuffs clinked lightly as you stretched your arms, casting a glance back at the Avengers. “Oh, trust me, Romanoff. I’m anything but comfortable.”

And with that, you followed them out of the briefing room, feeling the weight of the cuffs on your wrists and the eyes of the Avengers on your back. You were back in the game, and Hydra had no idea what was coming.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 69 | Part 70

“Can I come in?” Dustin continues.

Steve looks at Eddie. “Come on in, Dustin.” Eddie moves to sit next to Steve.

He does, blinking at their positions on the floor, then mentally shrugs and joins them. “Joyce and Wayne were talking to us downstairs,” he starts quietly. “About how people think two guys liking each other is bad, and wrong, but how it isn’t, but how it’s still not safe for you.” He bites his lip. “We won’t tell anyone. None of us will. But I-” He takes a breath, looks away before continuing. “I think you’re brave. Really brave. And I think no one should get to tell you that being together is wrong or bad. Because it can’t be. I mean, even just logically speaking there are animals in homosexual relationships, but even without that.” He looks up at Steve. “I was over visiting Mike a few times when you’d be over. And I saw the way you looked at her. And I see the way you look at him. And it can’t be wrong, if the way you look at him is true.”

“God fucking damn it,” Steve grits out to Eddie, who grabs at his hand and squeezes it.

“Thank you, Dustin,” Eddie quietly says. “We really appreciate it.”

Dustin nods, fidgets. “Steve?” He pauses to fidget again. “Can- can I give you a hug? Maybe?”

“Definitely,” Steve nods, opening his arms. Dustin gives him a small smile and leans in.

“I’m glad you came back,” he whispers.

“Jesus fuck,” Steve gets out. “You’re gonna be the death of me, kid, my heart’s gonna give out like I’m eighty, and it’s gonna be because of you and your mouth. Christ.”

“Should I… not have said that?”

“No. I’m glad you did. Very glad. Thank you, Dustin.” He wipes his face and smiles at Dustin.  “Give us a few minutes?”

“Okay,” Dustin nods, standing. “I’ll tell everyone else.” He fidgets again. “Also, El wants to know when we’re gonna start.”

Steve sighs. “Today’s for a plan. When we start depends on the plan, and what day works best for it.”

“I’ll tell her,” Dustin promises, nodding, before running out.

Steve leans back against Eddie with a sigh.

“You’re really good with him,” Eddie murmurs.

“Yeah, well I’ve known him for years, I should be.”

“Not this Dustin. You’ve known him for all of two weeks. I think it’s just who you are as a person.” He wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “I think you and my Uncle Wayne were cut from the same cloth. People can’t help but to like you.”

“Sure, even though you hated me in high school.”

“I didn’t know you in high school. I’d even venture as far as to say you didn’t know yourself in high school.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I think that means you should agree with me, instead of trying to argue about how terrible you are as a person.” Eddie grins at him. “Ready to go downstairs? Even if we’re not starting until tomorrow at the earliest, we should still get a game plan going today.”

Steve sighs. “I hate when you’re right.”

“Lies,” Eddie says happily, hopping to his feet and offering Steve a hand up, “lies and slander, you like me, Steve Harrington.”

Steve doesn’t even try to hide his smile. “Sure, Eds. Let’s go downstairs.”

They meet with everyone still in attendance in his living room. Joyce returns a few minutes later, and they start planning.

About an hour into it, Steve’s getting a headache. He rubs his temples but smiles at El when she approaches him. “Is your head being too loud?” She whispers.

Steve smiles wider. “I’ll be fine, Ellie.”

She narrows her eyes. “That isn’t a no. Friends don’t lie, Steve.”

“You’re right. Friends don’t lie.” He pets a hand over her head, cups her jaw for a second. “My head is being a little loud, but it’s not bad right now.”

“Would a hug help?”

“I think hugs always help,” he tells her seriously. “There are very few things a hug cannot fix.”

She beams and leans into him, throwing her arms around his waist. He grins, then buries it in her short hair. “Tell me something honestly. Could you go back to the building? Or would it hurt too much?”

She thinks about it. “It will hurt,” she tells him. “But I will be okay if I do not see the rainbow room.”

“You won’t,” Steve promises her. “What about Papa?”

She shakes her head, buries her face in his chest. “I won’t be strong enough,” comes out muffled.

“Okay. No rainbow room and no Papa. We can do that, Ellie. Anything you want to do yourself?”

Her lip curls when she moves to press her cheek to his chest. “The medicine room.”

Steve’s eyes shut. “Okay. Can I help you with that room?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He looks up to see everyone else watching them. “Have you decided on something yet?”

“We were sort of waiting for you, dear,” Joyce says apologetically. “You know the most about this stuff. We’re kind of flying blind here.”

Steve sighs, leans forward. “You’re right. Then let’s plan.”

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[lookingfts]

Friday Fic Rec 10/4

Thanks as always for your submissions! Titles are links to each fic.

The Swap by VioletTimes

“It’s an AU with an almost Beauty and the Beast type of vibe. The writing is excellent and the slow burn is masterful.”

Description: Anthony Bridgerton is the most powerful Duke in England and likely its next king. But since he came back from the war his reputation is less than stellar. Considered to be both a brilliant strategist and a ruthless monster, all of England is afraid of him and the Sheffield sisters are no exception. So when Edwina is forced to be sent to marry the monstrous Duke, Kate doesn't even hesitate before swapping places to protect her sister from such a horrible fate.

WIP (9/39) - E - 43k words

loyal to what matters by @suitsusboth

“This fic is so well-written! The author is amazing at world-building. It’s a slow burn between Kate and Anthony, but totally worth it.”

Description: Anthony Bridgerton is an outlaw and had been riding with the Brunswick-Lüneburg gang for years now. They are his family-- a family that took him and his siblings in when they had no other place to go. But one big heist gone terribly wrong had them on the run, the law closing in on them like never before. Many forces work against the gang as they try to fix things in the aftermath as they are chased across the states-- gaining and losing friends alike. Loyalty is the cornerstone of their gang. But as things start to unravel, and as the alluring and equally infuriating Kate Sharma starts to shine light on aspects of his lifestyle, Anthony has to figure out what is worth being loyal to... and what it might cost in the end.

WIP (6/?) - M - 52k words

The Air I Breathe and The Bane of My Existence by the_loosest_moose

“Two separate stories, both creative modern takes on season 2's (not the book's) storyline. Also, these are textfics with accessible counterparts, so it took a hell of a lot of work to put these together on top of writing the actual story. I dream of this author coming back to write for this fandom.”

Description (The Air I Breathe): Anthony Bridgerton is a typical NYC hotshot attorney – self-important, tenacious, and highly promiscuous. He’s casually dated for years, but he’s getting older and is thinking about settling down. Enter Kate Sharma. She’s a brilliant special education lawyer, and though she’s entirely career-oriented herself, she’s trying to help her younger sister Edwina get back into the dating scene after ending a long relationship. Anthony and Edwina meet, and Edwina is immediately charmed. Unfortunately, Kate suspects that Anthony is not the kind, gentle person he pretends to be. Though Anthony and Edwina begin dating, things start getting complicated when Anthony and Kate realize they may have feelings for each other.

Complete - E - 61k words (accessible version 94k words)

Description (The Bane of My Existence): Kate Sharma and Anthony Bridgerton both have high stress jobs. When friends/family force each of them to attend a week-long silent meditation retreat to relax, neither takes it seriously (or is very happy about it). After a few flirty exchanges between them, things get steamy, and they try to make the most of their otherwise frustrating week. Though they part ways expecting their time together to have been no more than a fling, when they return home, it becomes apparent that Kate and Anthony aren’t the total strangers they thought they were.

Complete - E - 64k words (accessible version 104k words)

Remember the Time by Anonymous

Description: I read PonderRose's The Son Between Us and wondered how it would play out in the show.

WIP (12/?) - NR - 78k words

Trying not to love and We are family by HarnitBee

Description (Trying not to love): Anthony confronts Kate about their feelings, desperate to not feel anything.

Complete - G - 4k words

Description (We are family): What if the Sheffields weren’t horrible and agreed to the marriage and got Kate's father a post in England?

Complete - G - 10k words

hate to say I told you so by itsthebooks and KyBee1497

Description: A good old fashioned game of Truth or Dare mixed with Seven Minutes in Heaven brings Kate Sharma and Anthony Bridgerton a lot closer to each other than they ever wanted to be.

Complete - E - 9k words

LFTS rec: Weary Memory by @fitrahgolden

I have a difficult time reading divorce fics in general, but I gave this one a shot and I loved it. There’s a bit of angst, but the reasons for the breakup make sense and so does their coming back together. There’s something super sweet about this Kate and Anthony and I’ve revisited it multiple times.

Description: After eleven years of marriage, Kate and Anthony find themselves divorced and co-parenting their three kids.

Complete - M - 20k words

Thanks to those who submitted! This will be a weekly thing, so keep your recs coming! You can find previous weeks under the "lfts fic recs" tag.

[greeniegaes]

Was looking through my various SVSSS docs and found like. 1k of trans SQQ being angry about periods.

So here’s that, unfinished and unrefined

When Shen Yuan originally woke up in the body of Shen Qingqiu the only thing on his mind was the terrible death he would end up suffering.

This only ended up with him moping for a week before being poked and prodded at by Mu Qingfan, the doctor trying to discern what was wrong with him. Yue Qingyuan was anxiously awaiting his prognosis nearby.

So, Shen Yuan decided there was more important things to do than moping.

He observed the conditions of his peak, fixing the hierarchy problems between his disciples, making sure all lesson plans and materials were properly set up for the hall masters. There was so much to acclimate to within the first month of his possession of his new body.

And his new body was different too. When he first woke up in his barely lucid state all he could remember was pain. Now that was most likely due to the fever and qi deviation he had. But the pain and the confusion had totally let a few things slip.

It wasn’t a sort of “oh where am I, what unusual world is this?” sort of slip. Shen Yuan was an avid novel reader, he had more respect for himself then to be confused when isekai’d. No, it was a very different kind of confusion.

He’d barely been a few sentences into his new life, barely able to sit up and hold his fan when he realized the very major change from this current life to his past one.

He didn’t have a dick.

Luckily the only person there to see the confusion of his lack of a -in his opinion key- body part was Yue Qingyuan.

“You.” The newly transmigrated Shen Qingqiu glared at the man sitting on his bed, his brain only half screwed on. “Why don’t I have a dick?”

The man across from him sighed, looking at Shen Qingqiu with a pitying expression. There was a tense discussion consisting of “I know you’re a man, don’t worry, Shidi…” and “you’ll be able to change your body when we reach higher cultivation” but it had all flown way above Shen Yuan’s head.

Shen Qingqiu’s body was originally born female?!? But he dressed like a man! Now, Shen Yuan had no problem with such a thing, several people accused him of being an egg and he had met quite a few trans people, but why? Why was Shen Qingqiu trans when there was no mention of it in the story. Such a detail had no purpose and Shen Yuan wanted his dick back!

Alas, no matter how much he questioned it he could only endure it. So Shen Qingqiu went on with his life, a little adjustment here and there but everything was mostly peaceful for a month

A. Single. Month.

Now Shen Yuan wasn’t the type of guy that didn’t think periods hurt. His darling mei-mei wouldn’t have allowed that at all. But this was worse than he thought. It felt like someone had a knife to his gut and would be twisting it all day. Honestly he was ready to keel over and die.

But alas, his life went on. He stayed standing through the lessons, making sure to be very careful not to snap at his disciples. It was hard to do that though. So many questions were asked, and he almost felt like the original Shen Qingqiu was an awful teacher because honestly how many things did he never explain.

The second day of it was worse though. He was half way through getting ready, a bit uncomfortable but overall okay, when suddenly it felt like he was hit by a truck. He could have isekai’d right there and started a new life from how much pain he was in.

This led him to hiding out in his bamboo house, laying on the ground.

Which led into a whole bigger mess.

Ming Fan had suddenly entered his house to ask about something or other, saw him lying face down on his flooring, and promptly went screaming for Mu Qingfang.

Which was not how Shen Qingqiu wanted his day to go. The man pushed himself up, hurriedly getting ready so that he wouldn’t look like he was moping about again. After long enough to get dress and slip calmly into his bed with a novel in hand Mu Qingfang shot into his room.

Shen Qingqiu was impressed the doctor could move so fast, he didn’t expect it.

“Mu-Shidi.” He greeted calmly, watching as a few of his disciples, perhaps a hall master or two and a few of the peak lords- including the leader- shuffling in or around the room. “I understand you may be concerned over things, but is such a stampede necessary?”

The doctor looked at him, grabbing his wrist which caused him to drop the book. There was the familiar feeling of qi channeling through him, checking out what was wrong. “Everything seems to be normal, I was told you had collapsed?” Ming Fan was off to the side, nodding his head up and down; tears were threatening to fall in his eyes.

It seems within the short time period of him taking over Shen Qingqiu’s body his disciples had become quite sticky.

“Nonsense, I’ve been okay in my room the whole time.” A few of the people looked around, trying to gauge the truthfulness of his statement.

Mu Qingfang frowned, focusing more on his qi trying to assess what was wrong. The sudden cool feeling traveling up his body made him want to retch, cringing of his arm in the man’s hand. Shen Qingqiu snatched his hand away, grabbing a nearby fan to weild.

“We are done with this, everyone get out!” He had tried not to snap at people for the month, but honestly he was at his wits end. He had ignored the constant fretting, the way his students huddled around him, the side eyes the other fellow peak lords made him. He didn’t want to deal with it anymore at this point

[rafedaddy01]

Rafe knows its wrong but he wants to f his assistant

Hes Single but hes 35 and shes just 19 years old

But one day when they are all alone in the office he just cant take it any more and he takes her right on his table

At first she resists

He knows shes a virgin

But soon shes begging for more harder faster

I love a little non consensual sex ⭐️

He knows you’re a virgin. Which is why it would be so wrong for him to push everything off his desk and take you on it right now. Bunching up that little skirt and ripping your panties off before shoving his cock deep in that virgin cunt. He knows that would be wrong. But the way you’re talking, and the way you smell, and the way you look, and just overall you, makes him want to do those things to you. Even if they are wrong.

But he also knows you’d be begging for it once he was inside you. He sees the way you look at him. Eyeing him up and down when you think he’s not looking. Or the way you fix your blouse right before you walk into his office. Or the way you wear that cherry red lipstick just for him because he told you itd look good on you. He knows you want him as bad as he wants you, you’re just too shy to do anything. So rafe decides the right thing to do is be a man about it.

“Good evening, Mr. Cameron. Here are those documents you were wanting printed off this morning” you walk into his office, chirpy as usual as you place the stack of papers on his desk, and just as your about to turn away Rafes hand wraps around your wrist.

“Y/n” his voice is stern and more dominant that usual.

“Yes, sir?” You turn back to face him. Scanning his face for any sign of what you must have done wrong. But you can’t make anything out. All you see is hunger, a primal hunger, but you can’t figure out why he’s staring at you with such intensity.

“You look very pretty today” rafe let’s go of your wrist and stands up, walking in front of you and caging your body against the side of his desk.

“And you smell so good” he leans in and hold a strand of hair up to his nose as he sniffs.

“T-thank you, sir” you mutter. Having him this close makes your brain fuzzy. This man is a literal god. He’s loved, feared, and respected by everyone. Every woman tries to catch his attention, some succeed but most get shooed away like stray dogs. Rafe is a very powerful man and you know that with one wrong word or one wrong move he could make your life a living hell.

“You’re welcome” he drops the strand and watches it rest against your skin before meeting your eyes and smiling.

He leans closer, his hands falling to the desk and his body pushing yours against his desk until there’s no where for you to go but fall against the desk.

You don’t even have time to comprehend what is happening when Rafes lips land on yours. You don’t kiss back, his lips moving at a rapid pace, tongue darting out but you refuse to open your mouth and he grunts, wrapping a hand in your hair and tilting your head up by pulling on your hair, you gasp and he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue inside, moaning when you give him what he wants.

You try to push at his chest, push him back and off you so you can speak. Tell him no, this is wrong. First off he’s your boss. Second, he’s wayyy older than you.

But rafe grips your wrists once more, tightening them in his grip and pushing them away.

He finally pulls back, biting your lower lip as he pulls back.

“Rafe-“ your cut short when you hear the sound of clothes ripping.

You gasp, shocked as you look down and see he used a pair of scissors to cut down the center of your skirt.

“Rafe! What the f-“

“Shh, don’t worry. I’ll buy you another” he goes to kiss you again but this time you turn away, finally being able to push him back.

“I-I don’t want to do this, rafe. We shouldn’t- this is- please stop” you feel the tears start forming as you struggle to find your words, just wanting to get out of his office as soon as possible.

“I don’t really care what you want” Rafe says as he grabs you back, spreading your thighs and groaning when he finally sees what’s between your legs. You weren’t wearing any panties today due to it being laundry day. He laughs and shakes his head, “and you’re trying to tell me you don’t want this. Pft, little slut. Walking around my office, wearing nothing under this little skirt and expecting me not to fuck you?”

“Rafe please” you beg as you feel the warmth of his hand going up and down your thigh. Inching closer and closer to that spot you desperately want him at, but also don’t want him touching at all.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to discipline you. Show you what happens when you walk around practically naked in my office.”

You accept your defeat when you hear the belt buckle and the sound of his zipper being pulled down.

This is not how you wanted to lose your virginity. You wanted it to be with someone you loved, you wanted it to be romantic. Not against a desk with your 35 years old boss taking advantage of you. Even if he was hot and you had a little crush on him.

His tip tapped against your clit and it brought you back to reality, you didn’t even realize the pads of Rafes thumb was wiping at your teary eyes, “don’t cry baby, I’ll have you begging me to fuck you harder in just a second” he pushed all the way in, sucking the breath from your lungs as you felt the stretch his cock made inside you.

He stills a moment to let you adjust but it doesn’t last long before he pulls his hips back and thrusts in hard, groaning when he feels just how tight you really are.

His thrusts are slow but deep, it hurts but it starts to feel really good really soon. You can feel every outline and ridge and curve of his cock. Especially since he just pushed inside you without so much as a condom. You could feel everything, and it felt amazing.

“M-more, p-please” you whimpered as you relaxed your body, falling fully against the desk.

“I told you princess, all you had to do was shut up and let me in” he smirked down at your fucked out state. Poor little virgin pussy was now his. His to look at, his to fuck, his to lick and touch, and no other man ever has nor ever will lay their hands on you.

“You’re just so perfect, letting your boss fuck your virgin pussy raw. Your definitely getting a promotion after this”

Taglist

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[silverwhittlingknife]

So you're a go to source for all things Dick&Tim bros and you tend to write primarily from Dick's POV. So, odd question, but if you were to summarize their relationship from his POV in FIVE panels which panels would you pick? Keeping in mind that one specific aspect of their relationship that you love needs to be clearly represented by each panel (loyalty, trust etc). I hope this is a fun challenge and not an annoying question so if you don't want to answer that's cool! Have a wonderful day!

No more talk. The same thoughts run through two minds... (SotB 29) / You're my equal. My closest ally. (RR 1) / I can't stop thinking how much I rely on him. (GoG 3)

25 Feelings Dick Has About Tim

This was such a kind ask & a cool challenge which I totally failed; here are TWENTY-five panels of Dick's POV on Tim sdfdsfds Look, I got carried away! Marcia and Cindy! The boys!!

OKAY SO BEFORE I GET TO THE PANELS A FEW NOTES:

WARNING THAT THERE ARE SOME NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN HERE because I love conflict but but but you gotta remember those are not the final word!! They are complicated people and sometimes they get mad at each other BUT ultimately their relationship is so hugely important in both their lives & they love each other and rely on each other so much -!!! <3

Also I have CONCLUDING THOUGHTS at the end about what Dick's POV leaves out (mostly: a lot of Dick defending & protecting & supporting Tim, which Dick does instinctively but isn't very self-aware about most of the time)

I have loosely organized my list into 5^5 format (5 categories with 5 examples each!), so if you want to skip to a relevant one, here are the categories!!

Below the cut:

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1-5)

On second thought, he's endearing & fun (#6-10)

Grief is complicated & he's all tangled up in mine (#11-15)

I love him & think highly of him (#16-20)

I rely on him & though it's hard for me, I trust him (#21-25)

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1 - 5)

1) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze me and Bruce, but he doesn’t know me at all, he should get lost (New Titans 61)

2) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze Bruce but he doesn’t know Bruce at all, he should get lost (Gotham Knights 26)

3) He is so nosy about stuff that is MY business (Robin 0)

4) He sounds like an insincere suck-up half the time... but okay, fine, if you push him he's got a sense of humor about it (New Titans 65)

5) I'm sure he's a better vigilante than me. It's my fault for being a failure, but I resent him anyway. (Nightwing 9 - Dick's having a nightmare)

On second thought, he's kinda endearing (#6-10)

6) He worries too much and gets anxious so easily, but it makes him fun to tease (Robin 67)

7) I'm not that competitive - okay, so maybe I'm a little competitive, I gotta make sure he doesn't get a swelled head (Prodigal)

8) I'm supposed to be his favorite! It is not cool for him to be fanboying over my not-girlfriend's not-boyfriend!! (Birds of Prey 19)

9) We have fun together. I can kick back and relax when it's just the two of us. Plus I get to boss him around a bit. (Prodigal)

10) He’s always trying to reassure me, and I guess it's a little comforting, but also he doesn’t really get it. Or me. He makes excuses that he shouldn't, because he doesn't understand that I suck. (Nightwing 64)

Grief is complicated and he's all tangled up in mine (#11 - 15)

11) He reminds me of everything I try not to think about. Sometimes the memories are so strong it hurts to look at him. (Batman 441)

12) WHY IS HE BEING IMPOSSIBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN??? THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING (Nightwing 139)

13) We're the same. He says all the things I don't let myself think about. It's like arguing with myself. (Nightwing 139)

14) He thinks he gets to tell me what to do but he doesn’t, fuck him (Battle for the Cowl)

15) Life sucks, so what. I sucked it up so he should too (RR 1)

I love him and think highly of him (#16 - 20)

16) He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have.  If someone hurts him I will hurt them harder. (Nightwing 6)

17) I can't handle the idea of losing him. (Nightwing 97)

17) He’s so good and I’m not. I'm afraid I’m bad for him. (Nightwing 110)

18) He’s better than me, and it’s kind of a relief because I know no matter what he’ll be okay. (Gates of Gotham 3)

19) In my head he’s the responsible one.  (Gotham Knights 10)

I rely on him, and though it's hard for me, I trust him (#20-25)

20) I know I have to trust him but I'm afraid he'll make the wrong choices and get hurt (Nightwing 139)

21) I'm sure I know what he should do because I see myself in him - not that I can take my own advice, but he should (Blackest Night 3)

22) I trust him.  When I’m losing my grip on things, he pulls me back. (Gotham Knights 10)

23) I want him to trust me (Red Robin 12)

24) He can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes he sees my weaknesses better than I wish he did. (Detective Comics 874)

25) He’s always there when I need him. (Teen Titans / Outsiders Secret Files)

Final rambling thoughts:

TIM: Uhh, okay, so I'm just skimming this list - do you really trust me? you're not just saying that? - but anyway, I'm confused because you left some stuff out? Like some stuff that's kinda important? DICK: No? I think I got everything? TIM (starts counting on his fingers): The time I was having a bad day but then I called you. The time I got captured by Two-Face but then you saved me. The time I fell off a train but then you saved me. The time I fell off a building but then you saved me. The time I fell off a different building - DICK: I feel like you're trying to make some kind of point but I'm not sure what it could be.

SO THE THING IS, I put 25 panels in here and not a single one has Dick catching Tim when he’s falling!!! But I think that's a central motif of their relationship from Tim’s POV, not Dick’s. I love Dick, but in some ways I think he is spectacularly un-self-aware.

And I think he especially has a lot of blind spots about Tim. He kinda intermittently gets that Tim admires him, and he enjoys it in a playful I-get-to-boss-you-around way. But Dick tends to consistently underestimate all of his own good qualities & skills, and he meets Tim at a point in his life when he's especially down on himself & his abilities. And so he's unable to see his own influence on Tim, & therefore unable to fully understand a lot of Tim's priorities and loyalties and motivations, because you can't actually understand Tim without understanding Dick's impact on him. There's a fascinating moment in Bruce Wayne: Murderer when Dick's completely blindsided & upset to discover that Tim doesn't entirely trust Bruce, even though this has been a definitive fact of Tim's whole thing ever since he showed up with his Batman needs Robin theory, and Barbara has to actively remind Dick of the obvious-to-everyone-except-Dick fact that a lot of Tim's loyalty is to Dick, and Tim loves Bruce but feels free to be more wary of him. (And to give Bruce credit: this is not something he ever begrudges.) But anyway Babs points this out, and Dick manages to sorta process it for about five seconds, but he cannot actually accept it into his worldview so instead he discards it at the speed of light and goes off and has an argument with Tim instead sdfsfdsf

All of Dick's virtues - Dick's kindness at the circus and Dick's determination to fight through grief and Dick's rigid sense of morals and Dick's vigilante skills and every time Dick has ever backed Tim up or listened to him or protected him or saved him from something or just been casually kind to a stranger in Tim's presence etc etc etc - all these things loom really large in Tim's mental story of Who Dick Is, and What Dick And Tim's Relationship Is. Tim meets Dick before he meets Bruce, trusts Dick more than Bruce, aspires to be Robin instead of Batman. And so in Tim's default version of the story, Dick is the super-special and admirable hero and Tim is... nobody in particular, a tagalong outsider who's barely managing to be a hero, not part of Dick and Bruce's family and not part of their story, who, if he's VERY LUCKY and tries REALLY HARD, might be able to fight his way to proving himself and offering something to Dick that Dick will value, if Dick doesn't get fed up with him first.

But that's not Dick's version of the story!!!

Dick's version of the story is almost the exact opposite, a story where Dick's an outcast failure black sheep who's screwing up everything he tries, and meanwhile Tim is The Sudden New Perfect Robin Who's Better Than Me And Probably Bruce Loves Him More And Probably They Gossip About What A Loser I Am, mixed with a complicated edge of Tim Thinks He's So Smart But He Doesn't Know Me/Us At All. Dick gets much more attached to Tim over time, and Tim gets unnervingly better at the know-it-all psychoanalysis so then Dick gets to have complicated feelings about him being right instead of just annoyance at him for being wrong, plus Dick's relationship with Bruce improves a lot, so Tim stops feeling so threatening. But Dick never fundamentally changes his basic theory of their relationship in which Tim is highly impressive and capable, and Dick is not so much.

And so asking Dick about Tim is kinda like if you asked George Bailey to tell you about Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life; like, you'll be there for five hours while he tells you how great Harry is, and how accomplished Harry is, and how he doesn't really get how or why Harry does the things he does, and maybe George does feel a little resentful or jealous sometimes, but that pales in comparison to all his admiration and trust for Harry who he loves so much, who's better than him in so many ways, and he's not gonna openly gripe but secretly he can't help but feel sometimes like he's such a failure in comparison to Harry, a perfect person who emerged fully formed from Zeus's head with all the virtues and also all the accomplishments, etc. etc. etc. --

-- and he will not actually remember the part where he changed and saved Harry's whole entire life unless you literally send him to an alternate timeline in order to force him to remember it. <3

[snekdood]

"if we make america worse and more of a dictatorship that will be even harder to unravel and make it the way we want the country to be, maybe then everyone will join our Glorious Revolution!" bb girl you cant even be in the same room with someone who thinks you should vote, how in tf do you think you're gonna unite people to fight in The Revolution with you? it's gonna be you and your 5 friends, i hate to break it to you.

[starry-bi-sky]

i have... ✨Danyal Al Ghul Headcanons✨ but specifically for my yaelokre danyal oneshot

There's also the tumblr post here but I recommend the link in the title because its the ao3 version, and that one is edited and has some stuff in it that's not in the tumblr post, and will be the version I'm using.

So for summary: this Danyal is also from a Demon Siblings Au where Danny is five years older than Damian. However, things turned out a bit differently, and Danny and Damian had a fantastic relationship with one another. Danny loved music and regularly came up with songs to sing to Damian with. Specifically the folk band Yaelokre's EP "Hayfields" (seriously go fucking listen to it its sooo good. Harpy Hare is the second song but its my favorite. Special shoutout to @gascansposts for introducing the band to me)

He falls off a train when he's twelve and Damian is seven while the two of them and Talia are on mission. He ends up with magically induced amnesia and wakes up in Arkansas while the Fentons are on their yearly Divorce-iversary visit to Aunt Alica, and since he can only remember his name, he ends up being taken into their care.

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Yaelokre Danny has the same facial scar as Things in Threes Danyal, since he was initially another version of him where things turned out better. I'm debating on whether or not I should take it away however, and give him a different scar (maybe from when he fell off the train?), just because the scar is a pretty key identifier for Ti3 Danyal.

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Danny frequently visits Aunt Alicia in Arkansas! Well, only after he gets settled in and stuff. He doesn't really like the city that much and prefers the countryside where Alicia lives. I know she lives in a cabin but I'm changing it to a farm, so she puts Danny to work and gets him to help her.

I don't want to confine his hobbies to only being star stuff, because people tend to have more than one hobby and I feel like it reduces him to one-dimensionality, so he likes to garden, and learns guitar. His room becomes filled with plants, and he turns their roof into a rooftop greenhouse right below to OPS Center.

He has a complex relationship with the weapons from his past, but he's not... like... appalled by it? When he finds his weapons in the Fenton attic all he thinks is that they're his weapons, and he starts carrying a knife on him afterwards. Essentially he becomes fascinated with weaponry because its one of the few physical ties he has to his past, and while he's not training like he is in the League, he allows his strong muscle memory to guide him through his katas.

Danny likes climbing things. This causes Problems For Everyone Else.

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Danny was not the "kinder Al Ghul" in the League. His kindness extended to his brother and family, and that's it. To everyone else he had high expectations out of them, and the pride you'd expect from the grandson of Ra's Al Ghul and trained by its top members. While he wasn't like, unnecessarily cruel or anything, he wasn't merciful either.

This transfers post-train fall as him coming off as no-nonsense and unforgiving. He's not fond of the idea of giving people second chances, and is skeptical of the idea. He's disgusted by incompetency and views it as an unforgivable offense, especially if he thinks that the person should know better, although he's not sure why. Some egocentrism for the soul.

He doesn't like being touched by anyone who isn't family, and gets irritated when anyone grabs him or holds onto him for extended amounts of time. Dash has gotten hit so many times. With Jack Fenton's tendency for abrupt physical affection, it doesn't make it any better. I'd argue it'd make it worse because Danny doesn't want to be touched more often than not.

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Danyal had a red scarf in the League that he wore on his last mission, it came off before he fell off and caught itself on the roof. Damian still has it and took it with him to Wayne Manor. He's got it locked in his room and takes it out when he's alone and missing Danny the most. One time he forgot to put it away before leaving his room, and Dick was visiting the manor for something and found it. Damian found him holding it and freaked out.

Dick could only say "I've never seen you wear this, Damian, this is really pretty--" before Damian shoved him to the floor and stole it out of his hands, before screaming at him; "Don't touch this! You don't ever touch this! This is mine! You hear me!?"

It caused such a commotion that the rest of the family present came to see what the fuss was about, and Damian kicked them all out of his room. Dick is the one brother Damian's the closest with, so the fact he reacted so strongly shocked them all.

This is likely what leads to the "Danyal" conversation.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

and now, a break from our normal schedule for my Favorite cat dad and his lovely vagabond son