#why can't I just have rich and nice parents that have a house that I can live in 😭 I'm not strong enough to live like this

[running-in-the-dark]

Just had a really uncomfortable conversation with our landlord & his wife - basically he was angry at us for drilling 'so many' holes in the walls (we really, really haven't drilled many holes in the walls. though we did build a shelf a few days ago, that could have sounded like that I guess?) and that it's getting very annoying that we've been moving in for four months now (it's been three months, and the vast majority of that time we didn't do anything, especially not anything loud. the only thing that's happened in like the last month is that we brought home and set up that shelf, and the holes we drilled today).

And it's just.. so confusing. Because we always ask them when we do something that could be loud/bother them, and they always say it's completely fine and everything. I just quickly wanted to get the drilling done today because I had to borrow my brother's drill for it, so we didn't ask this time.

And mainly it's confusing because they've told us SO MANY TIMES that they can't hear us at all, that we never bother them and that they're so happy to have such nice and quiet tenants. Like?? Okay??? How does that make sense. Last week we're great and sooo quiet and today we've suddenly been super loud for "four months".

So anyway after they left and I almost had a panic attack I realised I didn't take my anxiety medication this morning. Now it makes sense at least.

[2smolbeans]

I just realised how terrifying a yan ceo can potentially be.

Money, power, connections, it can be all used against you. For all you know, they could kidnap you in the most subtle way to the point that you won't even know when to be on your guard. They could hire men to come and grab you in a shabby van, alleyway, or even in your own home- in broad daylight too. They could disguise themselves as a regular Joe who happens to work in the same workplace as you as a way to get closer. They have all the time to do it, not like they need to work 24/7 unlike you.

And when they kidnap you, God knows where they can put you! For all you know, they could move you into a foreign country inside a locked up penthouse. Good luck getting back home, especially if you don't even speak the language! Or better yet, if you could even find your passport and any of your belongings.

Or if their feeling a little lazy, they could just trap you in a room with loads of security cameras and locks. They have money, and they can literally afford anything. A shock collar? Oh, don't mind if they do! Let's add an invisible gated fence while at it to keep you in place whenever their gone.

A rich person always has connections, and oh boy, can they abuse it with their wits and charm. You escaped (which will NEVER happen), and you accuse them of absolutely horrible crimes. Well, you're just a jealous ex with a history of drug use, fraud, and theft that just wants to collect their money. Better yet, where were you during the disappearance of a particular person? It's suspicious how your DNA is plastered all over the crime scene..

Or perhaps they have a 3rd party they work with. CEOs and rich people always gave different ways of earning money.. Sometimes, it can be tied to an illegal 3rd party. Man, what a shame if they were to just auction you off to the black market, sell one of your organs, or maybe try that new expiremental drug they've been curious about because you decided to lip off at them.

They could replace you anytime, but they choose not to.

Money can buy anything, and it probably bought your parents over. Sending money, gifts, and letters to your family, introducing them as your best friend or partner as a way to personally wiggle themselves into your life.

"(Y/n) they are so nice! Why didn't you tell us about them?"

"Oh, don't be like that! We need them. Please.. Don't be inconsiderate."

With all the gifts and life changing money they throw, they sometimes even win you over at some moments.. And that's what makes it even worse. You actually consider being with them the more you comply, the more they reward your submissiveness to their insanity, and well to simply put it- throw money at you.

I mean fuck it, why not? What's the harm in marrying them? Is what you would say if they weren't bat shit insane or cruel. The richest people don't become filthy rich from being good or kind after all..

Mistreating workers, black market connections, destroying peoples lives financially- fuck does it make you feel complicit. But you can't leave. Divorce them? Yeah, in your dreams. But okay, what if they humor you and let you leave?

Say goodbye to any property you have, your money, and your dignity. By the end of the court session, you'll have nothing, and I mean NOTHING. Try to get a job? It won't pay the debt you owe or restore your bank account after the legal divorce. I say legal because to them, they probably just see this as a minor inconvenience or couples quarrel. They could always just get another ring and throw another wedding, you're just being whiny and difficult.

You wanna buy a house, a car, or even pay rent? Yeah, no, you can't afford to divorce them.

They literally own you now.

[coff33andb00ks]

Burning - LN

Hopeless, Part 4

{1 - Hopeless} {2 - Luxury} {3 - Poison} {4 - Burning} {Epilogue}

Lando Norris x fem!reader summary: my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder, all my riches for her smiles, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter songs: lover, you should have come over by jeff buckley word count: 5872 warnings: angst, smut <mdni> a.n.: the finale <3

The overlook is quite lovely. Prettier than the photos he'd seen. The sea air is crisp, filling his lungs as he stares at a young family strolling along the beach. Pushing his hands into his pockets he watches them, homesick for something he's never had as the toddler picks up something to show their parents. A wholesome, beautiful moment, unmarred, and he swallows the lump in his throat as it occurs to him that he'll never experience it himself.

Turning his back to the sea, he breathes deep, eyes slowly scanning the area. Trying to match it to the description he'd been given. Gaze landing on the weathered bench he finds he's already walking towards it, one hand slipping from his pocket and reaching to trail along the arm, feeling the wood that's been carved with words and initials. And there, just as he'd been told, the two letters he would know anywhere.

Yours.

He drops onto the bench, leaning forward and trying to keep his breathing normal. It's the closest he's been to you in about a year – one year, two months, one week, five days, thirteen hours.

No, there was that day over winter break. When, melancholy and yearning, he'd spent more than he should have to fly out the week before Christmas, ignoring Oscar's suggestions that he stay away. He'd rented a car, following the roads you'd told him about to the seaside town that you'd described in such detail he could have drawn a map before seeing it. He'd driven the streets, stopped a few houses down from your parents' home. Had sat, watching the house, then cursed himself a million times over for being a fool and driven off.

Oscar hadn't said told you so. He'd merely sighed and nodded, listened to his sad story again.

You'd be so happy that Oscar's become his best mate. He wants to tell you, because he knows that only you would understand why it was such a big deal.

"Mate?"

He looks up, sighing at the sight of Oscar. "Nice, yeah?"

Oscar sighs sadly, sitting next to him on the bench. "You're torturing yourself."

"You said I could have one day," Lando reminds him.

"She's not gonna show up here on a Thursday morning," Oscar says after a moment.

"I know." It would be too movielike if you did. And the only genre of movies that reflects his life is tragedy. Standing, he walks over to stare at the beach again. The family has gone, their footprints already erased by the waves. When he heads back, Oscar stands, and there's a long look before they walk together to the gravel lot where they parked.

"Just call her." It's probably the billionth time Oscar has said the words since Lando's trip to Melbourne over summer break last year.

He exhales, about to lie and say he's deleted your number. But Oscar doesn't deserve lies. "I've tried."

"Did she block you?"

"Dunno." He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, stopped at the end of the lane coming down from the overlook. There's not much traffic, nowhere near enough to warrant him sitting idle for so long. He can't bring himself to hit the call button after punching in your number. Which he still knows by heart. The only number aside from his mum's that he has memorized.

"Lan?" Oscar ventures softly.

"Am I stupid?" he blurts.

Oscar sighs. "No."

"This—" He gestures angrily at their surroundings. "This isn't fucking stupid?"

"I wouldn't say stupid. Ill-advised, maybe?" Oscar follows a passing car with his eyes. "It's been a year."

He knows.

"I think if you were able to get over it, you wouldn't be here right now."

"I don't even know if she's here." His voice is wavering and he can feel the sadness and frustration and anger stinging, piercing what's left of his heart over and over, clawing up his throat and up into his brain, burning his eyes.

"You know her better than anyone." Oscar's voice is still gentle and soft. Careful, and Lando knows he's truly only there to support him. "Where else would she go?"

"Nowhere." This tiny corner of the world is your home.

"Call her."

Lando throws the car into park and bangs his forehead against the steering wheel. "This is stupid. It's been a year. A fucking year. I can't even bring myself to text her or call her, what the fuck do I think I'm gonna do if I bump into her on the fucking street?"

Oscar doesn't speak, merely waits.

"What would I say to her?" he whispers, scared to raise his voice because he knows he'll either scream or cry.

"Mate…"                                                                         

"It's stupid. I'm stupid. I should never have—" He cuts off, swallowing hard, squeezing his eyes shut. It shouldn't still hurt this bad. "I shouldn't have come."

"But you did."

"Yeah," he gasps.

Oscar's silent for a long moment, looking out the window while Lando struggles to compose himself, knowing that if he reaches out to offer comfort it won't be appreciated. "It's a small town, yeah?"

"Yeah." He scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms, wishing his heartbreak had been the type that was easily numbed. He's tried everything. Alcohol, exercise, random women, even random men when he was drunk enough. Therapy, antidepressants, meditation. Nothing's worked. He can get so drunk he almost forgets, he almost loses himself, but just when he's thinking this is it, it all comes rushing back and he snatches his body away from whoever he's with. Never much further than getting his belt unbuckled before he's rushing away with a shit apology and an empty ache in his chest.

It's been over for a year and it's still fucking him up. He can't do what the therapist suggested – seek forgiveness for your part in a wrongdoing – because Charles laughed in his face.

"You? Slept with her? Impossible. She has standards."

Fucking bastard.

"Switch, I'll drive."

Lando doesn't argue even though Oscar hates driving in America. Nothing rattles his unbothered friend. But six lanes of Americans driving like – Oscar's words – fucking cunts? His friend is ready to commit crimes. Once in the passenger seat he sighs, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. It isn't long before he feels the car stop and he sits up, not looking to see where they are. "I'll call the charter for a flight out."

"Not yet," Oscar tells him. "Wait here a minute."

Confused, he rubs at his eyes, trying to keep more tears from forming. He just wants to go. Best to resign himself to being lonely. Alone. Maybe he'll be lucky and time will eventually heal the pain, even just a little, and he can— Grunting as he looks out the windshield, he watches Oscar walk into a small brick building.

"Really, Osco, not the time to be a fucking nerd," he sighs, leaning back and throwing an arm over his face. Why the fuck are they at a library?

It's not long before Oscar's back, getting behind the wheel and humming softly to himself. He doesn't speak, still humming while he buckles his seatbelt and drops a folded sheet of paper in Lando's lap.

"What?" Lando sighs, dropping his arm and looking at the paper. Even more confused, he picks it up. "What is it?"

"Mate."

Sniffling, he rubs at his nose then unfolds the paper. At first he's still confused, reading the address written in Oscar's handwriting. "Is… Is that hers?"

"Yeah."

"H…" He sucks in a breath. "How."

"She said she wanted to go back to school and work in a library, right? They've got a display board up of recent things that have happened, and there was a picture of her with a bunch of kids. A paragraph about how she's working here as a research assistant while pursuing her master's in library science."

Lando rubs at his temples, knowing his friend wants to tell the whole story but longing to tell him to get to the fucking point. And also a little touched that Oscar remembered the detail about you wanting to work with books.

"Asked the lady at the desk about her, said I was an old friend driving through. She's off today, won't be back until Monday. When she went to help someone I nicked the notebook by the computer and it has everyone's address." Oscar smiles, obviously proud of his ability to spy without being caught. "Nice lady. Said y/n's an asset."

Lando nods, typing the address into the search bar of the map on his phone. "It's…"

"Close." Oscar reaches for the in-dash screen, pausing just before his fingers touch it.

He could tell him not to. Could shake his head. And Oscar would nod, they would call the charter, and be on a flight back to Monaco by dinnertime.

And he would spend the rest of his life trying to forget.

He swallows, barely nodding his head.

"…we'll shift our focus to the surge of trade throughout the Mediterranean, but first—"

You look away from your laptop screen when there's a knock on the door. The professor drones on and you mute him, standing from the couch and setting the laptop aside to go see who it is. You're not expecting anyone, and the neighborhood isn't the type where neighbors drop in uninvited. Peeking through the window, you furrow your brow at the unfamiliar car parked on the street. Leaving the chain attached you open the front door just a bit.

And nearly hit your knees in shock.

He's looking down at the stoop, at his impossibly white sneakers, and his hood's pulled up over his head but you know it's him.

"Lando," you breathe.

His head lifts and his eyes take your breath away. They're just as you remember them, the jade hue that could see straight through to your soul.

He looks sad. Worried.

Scared.

"H-hey," he says, his voice cracking slightly.

You can only stare at him, unable to really believe he's on your front stoop. The light breeze picks up and you're slammed by the aroma of his cologne. It's so faint you know you shouldn't be able to smell it but you do and a wave of memories rush through you with it.

"Hey, nice to meet you." He smiled, an easygoing aura radiating from him as he stepped over and held out his hand. "I'm Lando."

"Hi, I'm y/n."

You press your lips together and swallow hard. "Hey," you murmur.

You, walking along pit lane with Charles and on the phone with your best friend. "So I finally got the game installed. I need to upgrade, the lag is so bad I die before I can get a shot in."

"Really? What are the specs?" Lando asked suddenly, appearing at your side.

"Call you back," you laughed into the phone, putting it away and smiling at him. He was always popping up to talk to you, had quickly become one of your favorite people on the grid. He never seemed too busy to at least stop and speak to you, that easy smile putting you at ease.

Lando exhales, his shoulders rounding. His eyes are almost mournful, the light of memory flashing and you wonder if he's reminiscing, too.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," he muttered, picking up a helmet and looking around, finally placing it two inches from where it had been.

"It's fine," you promised with a laugh. "You live here, it shouldn't look like a magazine spread."

"Yeah? I guess. Anyway, here you go, have a seat."

You swallow again, the sound of his hand slapping his computer chair echoing in your mind. Easing the door to a little, you reach up to unlatch the chain and take a step back as you pull the door open further. "What are… How did you know where to find me?"

"I love it here, really, but I miss the space. I miss having a little patch of grass where I can plant flowers and not have people squeezing in around me," you said, sliding the tarts from the baking sheet to the cooling rack.

"I get it. But I mean, you could talk to Charles, right? See about getting a place with a garden?" Lando looked at the tarts with a longing sigh.

"At least let it cool," you teased. Leaning against the counter, you shook your head. "No, this is his home. He'll never want to move out of Monaco."

"I like it here, but it's not home." He shrugged, pinching off a piece of the pastry shell for a taste, grinning when you slapped at his hand. "There's a villa up the coast a ways – it has space and nice gardens. I've thought about getting it, but seems a waste just for me."

"You could get a dog."

He's standing in your tiny living room. He looks so out of place and yet he fits and you think you're just in shock. Pushing back his hood, he fiddles with his hair, the nervous gesture you remember him doing. "Osco… He's with me – I mean, in the car," he says, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. "Man's a fucking spy I think."

"No, no, you put your hand here." His face is serious as he guides your hand to his shoulder. "Okay?"

You nodded, grateful he was willing to teach you. You knew Charles would happily pay for dancing lessons but it's embarrassing, not knowing how to waltz. And when you'd mentioned it to Lando he'd said to come by, he could show you the basics, and he'd practice with you so you wouldn't make a fool of yourself at the prince's gala. His hand moved to rest at your waist, warm and strong, and you felt a glimmer of heat as his other hand took yours, holding it up.

"We'll take it slow, yeah?" he asked softly.

He's still standing there, looking lost and scared, and all you can do is stare at him. You've seen him – on tv, online, on your phone because you hadn't been able to delete the pictures of him and every once in a while your phone likes to play a sick joke and throw you a memory that somehow always includes him. But you're struck by the slight differences since you've seen him in person. His hair is a little longer, that one curl he used to complain about dancing against his forehead. The scar from Amsterdam last year is faded, barely a line across the bridge of his nose.

He's still the most handsome man you'll ever see. He still takes your breath away. It's taking everything in you to not beg him to forgive you.

"Love it. This. Us."

You suck in a breath and hold it. "How are you?" you ask, because really what else can you say?

I'm so sorry I never should have let us end like we did, even if we were hopeless from the start. I still love you, I'll never stop loving you. I'll never stop needing you. I'm miserable.

"I'm fucking miserable, y/n." His voice is strained. "I-I came months ago. At Christmas."

You feel your eyes widen at the same time you watch his do the same. Suddenly recalling a strange car parked just down the street from your parents' home that had sped off. At the time your first thought had been that it was someone up to no good. "You did?" you whisper.

"I remembered where your mum and dad live, and I… I hoped I'd see you."

He would have, if he'd waited five minutes. But you remember the texts you'd sent that had gone unanswered. The one phone call you'd attempted two months after moving away from Monaco, at four in the morning when your dreams had been him.

They still are.

Lando takes a step forward. "Y/n…"

"Why are you here?"

"I miss you," he says, his voice still strained. Like he's just finished crying. Or is about to. And you don't want to see him cry. It'll break your unhealed heart. "Are… Are you okay?"

You jump slightly when there's a soft tap at the front door. It's still hanging open – way to go, just invite burglars and murders in – and both you and Lando spin to look.

Oscar holds both hands up. "Sorry to interrupt. Um… Hi."

"Hey," you squeak. God, you can't do this. You can't have this awkward, painful conversation in front of Oscar. "C-come on in," you say, dragging a hand through your hair.

"I, um, just…" His cheeks darken as he closes the door and he clears his throat. "Could I use the restroom?"

Blinking at him, you feel Lando step closer to you. With a small nod you point in the direction of the bathroom, backing away from Lando as soon as Oscar's back is turned.

"Y/n… Please—"

"What?" you ask. It's as though seeing Oscar threw some common sense into you. "I'm in the middle of a class."

"For the library thing, yeah?" One corner of his mouth lifts.

"How did you—" You glance towards the bathroom. "Maybe he is a fucking spy."

"He was trying to help me."

"He always has," you whisper.

"He's kept me from going completely insane this past year. I… I owe him a lot," he murmurs, and he's picking at his own fingers.

You're reaching to stop him and jerk your hand back. He's not yours to comfort. He never was. "He flew all the way here with you when he could be home with his girlfriend. I think you owe him at least a new car."

"She's pregnant."

You gasp. "Really? I should—" But you can't. You haven't been able to call her, either. You text sometimes, but your friendship with the other girlfriends will never be the same. She hasn't mentioned being pregnant and you know it's because you're not in the 'club' anymore. It's a wildly different life you lead now. And you're happy. You're miserable and lonely but you fake the happiness for the sake of your family and coworkers. "I'm happy for them."

"God, I hate this," he whispers, and he rubs his hands over his face.

Then he's reaching for you. Almost catches you, but you jerk away.

"Y/n—"

"You have no right, Lando. What, did you think I'd just fall right back into your arms?" you ask, voice trembling because you want to. You want to be hugged as only Lando's ever been able to do. But you can't let yourself, remembering all too well how your life had been destroyed because you wanted a hug once.

"I didn't – I miss you," he whispers. "It's been a year and I still can't wash the coffee cup you left on the counter because it's… It's still got your lipstick."

Your heart twists, thinking of the hoodie tucked in the very back of your closet. The one you were going to throw out two weeks ago but couldn't after you opened the bag and could still smell him. Then you firm your resolve. You can't. "I'm not stupid. I've seen how not lonely you've been—"

"I was trying to forget you!"

"Then try harder. Doomed, remember?" You'll never forget him saying that, or how your heart had fractured.

"I couldn't even do it, because I felt like I was cheating on you!" The words ring out and he looks shocked, face twisting. "That's how fucked up you got me."

That rankles you, and you don't know if it's because he tried or because he's blaming the failure on you. "It's not my fault you can't get off," you snap.

"I can only get off if I'm thinking about you," he snaps back.

Your cheeks flame, your broken mind immediately conjuring up the image of him in the shower or on his bed. And you would swear you can hear his breathy moans. You bite your tongue hard to keep from confessing that when you try to make yourself cum you have to think about him, too. "Lando—"

"Tell me you're happy," he whispers. "Say it and I'll go."

"Happiness is subjective," you say, because despite everything you can't lie to him.

There's a creak or a sigh. Both your heads swivel and though you've only ever respected and admired Oscar, you aren't happy to see him. He doesn't speak, turning and studying the notes and photos on the refrigerator door.

Your heart lurches, knowing he'll see the snapshot of Lando.

"Y/n."

You snap your eyes back to him, forgetting all about his friend when you look into his eyes.

"Can we just… Talk. Please."

"I would have talked a year ago. When you left me on read. I would have talked a few months later, when I called you and you didn't answer." The worst part had been that his voicemail greeting was the automated voice.

"I was hurting! I was trying to get over you! I wanted to hurt you—"

You gasp, the admission a knife in your chest. You deserve it, you know that, and so much worse, but it stings.

"Like you hurt me."

"What was I supposed to do, Lando? We were doomed. You said so yourself."

"I'd rather be doomed with you than broken without you."

You must leave. Despite how long it's been you're not strong enough. You doubt you'll ever be strong enough to resist him. About to step away, you remember it's your house. Small and cramped and yeah the neighbors are too close for your liking. But it's yours. "Go, Lando. Live. Be happy without me."

"Like you're happy here?" he asks, throwing his hands out. "Rotting away in a fucking library?"

"I was happy until you decided to show up." Your voice cracks and you try to hold it back but a sob escapes as you back away, shoulder banging the doorway of your bedroom.

"Don't lie to me, y/n," he pleads, taking a step closer and reaching out.

"Don't touch me." You shrug his hand away, trying to get out of his reach, lift a hand to slap his arm. He catches your wrist before you can and your breath sticks in your throat when he moves forward. "Lando, please, let me go—"

His lips crash against yours and you whimper. It's harsh and demanding and you struggle weakly against him, spinning as soon as his hand grabs your waist. His near feral moan vibrates through your body and in a heartbeat you're clutching at his hoodie, whining as your back meets the closing door.

"Lan," you whimper, shaking your head as you break the kiss. "Please, we—"

"One more," he gasps. He lets go of your wrist, his hand trembling as it cups your cheek. "God, please… I just need you one more time. Everything's wrong without you." His lips brush over yours, and you feel your own inconsolable longing reflected back at you. "Y-you were everything, let me feel everything again."

His kiss tastes like tears and stifled rage. It grows harsher, his body crowding yours tighter against the door. It's everything you've wanted for over a year and yet not enough and you whisper his name into the breaths you share, knowing you'll feel the worst pain imaginable when it's over and you're alone all over again. The pull of him is too strong though and you want to feel everything again too, want just one morsel of what you once had.

"Wish I could hate you," he groans, voice as rough as his fingers in your hair, so tight your scalp stings. You whimper with both delight and pain and he answers with a moan, snatching back, breathing uneven as his hand slides from your hair and there's a frantic, familiar scrambling to remove his hoodie and your shirt. His moan as his fingers brush your bare skin ends in a whine, tracing patterns over your chest. "Wanted to hate you. Wanted to forget you but you—" His mouth is on yours again, his hands clutching at your breasts. Your nipples are stiff before his thumbs brush them and he groans deep in his chest, pressing his thigh between yours.

He pinches and squeezes, lips almost cruel on yours, and you can feel the rage he feels. Know you deserve every bit of it for everything you'd done, and more than he's capable of showing. Tears sting your eyes. It's beautiful, crushingly so, because you know this will be the last time. You want to rush ahead, to feel the incandescence only his lovemaking had created inside you and you also want to slow down, to memorize every breath, every touch, so you can cling to the memories for the rest of your lonely existence.

"Y/n…" It's a low, drawn-out moan, lips parted over yours.

"Please," you gasp. You're practically squirming with need, and the hate for you that he can't muster is there, coming from yourself. "Need it, Lan…"

You feel his pained grimace, taste the ache and the agony on his tongue. "Need you," he whimpers.

"Us," you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as your tears fall.

"Us," he barely sighs. One hand slips down, the rage still there as it pushes between your bodies and into your panties, cupping you and squeezing. His ragged groan echoes in your ears and it shreds the last sliver of your sanity.

You tip your head forward, initiating the next kiss, loosening your grip on his biceps and letting your hands smooth over his warm skin. Breathing in and holding it so you can taste and smell and feel him all at once. Your fingers trace the necklace at his neck and more tears fall – it's the one you gave him two years ago. Rough, his fingers rub along your slit, his other hand thudding against the door then cupping your throat. His lips still on yours, whining when you brush the tears from his cheeks.

He leans into you, fingers rubbing steadily, teeth catching your bottom lip as they grow slick. "Did you…" He moans when one finger dips, your hips tilt forward, pushing yourself against his hand. "You miss me, baby?"

"Yes." You're gripping his wrist, clutching his hair.

"This?" His fingers move in slow circles over your clit. "…Or me?"

"You, Lando, you," you whimper, head falling back, the curling heat so sudden you fear you'll cum already.

"Have you let anyone fuck you?" he asks, still rubbing your clit agonizingly slowly.

"N-no." Your cheeks burn, hating yourself for feeling a spike of desire at his crude question. Pulse racing, you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, and his low hum as he leans closer, lips at your ear now. Your pussy clenches, gushing and you let out a shaky moan, able to hear the slick sounds of his fingers working your clit. Your hand wraps around his wrist and he chuckles.

"You need to cum? Hm?" He moans right in your ear and your pulse thunders beneath his fingertips at your throat. "You're gonna cum that quick?"

"I—" You whine, clutching tighter at his wrist. "It feels good, Lando, I can't…"

"It's gonna feel better when I'm fucking you," he whispers.

"Yes," you hiss, head falling back with a thump. "Please!"

"You want it, baby?" There's a slant to his cooed words and you wonder if he does hate you after all. "Want me to fuck you?" His lips tug at your earlobe, smirking while you whine. Slipping his fingers down, he dips them inside you, echoing your moan as you immediately squeeze around them. "Oh I missed your pussy so much… That's why I couldn't fuck 'em, you know?"

"Lando, please." God, you're gonna cum. It's sick and it's twisted now, but he knows exactly how to play your body.

"Cuz I know how good this feels…" He sucks on your earlobe, fingers curling tightly, exhaling harshly as they brush your spot and your hips jerk. "Gonna feel so good when you cum on my dick."

"Yes, baby, I need that," you whimper, digging your nails into his wrist. You need it more now than you did a year ago, your body buzzing. "God, please… Let me cum for you, Lan – Fuck!"

"Cum on my fingers, baby," he hisses, stroking your spot so hard it hurt. But his words and the reminder that he knew exactly what to say and do to you send you spiraling, pussy squeezing tightly around his fingers as a ragged cry ripped from your chest. "That's my girl, fuckin' cum…"

His fingers slip out and you gasp at the gush, tugging at his hair while he rubs your slit rapidly as your body tenses and trembles, panting harsh in your ear when you squirt over his fingers. When you slump back he coos, fingers strumming your clit and causing your back to arch.

He snatches his fingers from your clit with a low growl, and your lips meet in a fierce kiss, hands meeting at his belt. You wriggle between him and the door, frantic and scrambling to remove your panties, gasping against his tongue as he kicks his jeans away and then he's jerking your hips towards him, pressing his face to the side of your neck and your breath catches in the back of your throat, hooking your legs over his hips. His cock, hard and straining, glides along your slit and his teeth sink into your skin as his hips surge forward.

"Lando," you cry out, eyes rolling back.

"Make me hate you. Please, fuck, I need to hate you."

"How?" It's a broken sob.

"You can't." He presses his forehead to yours, hands so tight on your hips you know you'll feel the bruises forever. "You can't, y/n…"

"I'm sorry," you whisper, lifting trembling hands to cup his face. "I'm so sorry, Lando."

He exhales slow, releasing your hips and sliding his hands up, keeping the rest of his body still. It feels as though he's re-memorizing your body, closing his eyes while his palms sweep over your shoulders and up to your wrists. There's a prolonged moment as his shaky breaths fan over your lips, then his eyes open.

They're luminous. Shining with emotion. You can't breathe, can't even blink, can only just barely feel him shift, reminding you he's buried deep.

"I miss you so much." His hands are gentle, smoothing your hair back and cradling your cheeks. There's the reverence you remember.

"I'm right here." Your vision blurs and his lips are on yours, tender where they'd been rough before. "I'm right here, baby."

"Can't lose you," he mumbles, shifting again, his arm winding around your waist and holding you close. "Can't lose you again, baby, okay?"

You whisper his name, unsure of what to say. You're not sure you understand. "Lan?"

He kisses you again, turning and you're floating even after he lays you down on the bed. Each touch is gentle, like he's afraid of hurting you.

As though you're a dream he doesn't want to wake up from.

"I love you," he says. And for the first time since he stepped into the house it's the voice you remember. Clear and bright, warm and your favorite sound. It's him, the real Lando that you know and love.

Your lips part to say the words back – of course you love him, you've loved him since the beginning, before he was yours to really love. Before he was your forbidden secret.

"I bought the villa." Even he looks surprise as the words pass his lips and there's a small smile on his face and you want to laugh at the absurdity of the moment. He's talking as though he isn't inside you, as though he didn't just make you cum against your bedroom door.

"You did?" you ask softly, fingers following the freckles splattered over his cheek and neck. "When?"

Lando shifts, gently guiding your legs around his waist. The friction causes your toes to curl and he pauses, stuttering out a whimper. "F-first of the – god – year."

"Do you like it?" You're asking about the villa, remembering the photos he'd showed you on the realty website.

"Fuck I love it so much," he moans. His hands squeeze your thighs and he lifts himself up slightly, licking his lips slow. Eyes still luminous, he looks down at you and you can feel he's holding his breath.

"I love you," you whisper. "I love you so much."

And it's like that's all he needed. He leans down, kissing you deeply, his hands finding yours and holding on, fingers tangled as he rolls his hips slow. His thrusts are slow and deep, echoing moans and gasps the soundtrack to the passion. There's no subdued rage or cruelty anymore, and you whisper apologies between kisses, needing him to know how sorry you are for hurting him.

"I'm so sorry… I love you… Love us." You whisper the words over and over, tasting the salt of his fresh tears and yours.

Clasped hands tighten, knuckles turning white. "Be mine," he murmurs, his tremble rippling through you. When you arch, crying out yes, he dips his head, pressing sweet kisses over your heart.

"I always was," you promise, eyes locked with his as the passion crests and you cum with a scream of his name. It's blinding, deafening, and all you know that is real is the tight grip of his hands.

"Get your degree," he murmurs an eternity later. You nod, heart racing, the ache that has been in your chest for so long begins to fade. "Move in the villa with me."

"What if it's doomed?" you whisper, fear slicing through the elation. "What if we fail?"

"W-what if we win?" His breath stutters harshly, hands squeezing yours even tighter. "What if it's sacred?"

He kisses you, both of you trembling as his thrusts quicken and you feel his muscles grow tight. Your name is a soft, pleading cry and you feel the heat of him filling you, hips straining and pushing you deeper into the mattress.

Another lifetime passes with delicate kisses. Tender whispers. Praise and love are murmured between you, and you feel the eternal hope springing back when he offers forgiveness.

If it's all a dream you never want to wake. You'll gladly sleep until your final breath or even hasten your end so you never have to know cold reality again. But it's not a dream when you wake up, it's real and he's real, and the love in his eyes is still there.

The peace, the dreamy bubble formed around you, is burst by a gentle tapping at the bedroom door.

"Um… You good, mate?" Oscar calls out, his voice amused and embarrassed.

Lando giggles against your shoulder, kissing your skin before lifting his head. "Are we good, love?"

"Can we get a dog?" you ask suddenly.

"Just one?"

You nod. "To keep me company while I'm studying."

Lando grins, dipping to kiss you quickly. "All good, Osco!"

"Thank fucking christ," Oscar groans..

a.n.: originally this was close to 9k, but I cut a full scene from the end, because these two idiots deserve a happy, hopeful ending. I hope you enjoyed. housekeeping: if you'd like to be added to my taglist(s), please fill out this form.

taglist: @driverlando | @leodette | @trisharee | @manicpixiemom | @littlegrapejuice | @mochimommy2002 |

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! Hope ur doing great! First of all, I really love your fics! I think you're really talented.

I have a request, if it's not too much trouble. I can't stop thinking about a Steve w/head trauma (so, maybe migraine prone, memory issues, etc) and a DM Eddie that still resents Steve from high school. Eddie doesn't know Steve struggles with the complications of his concussions, so he keeps judging him for it. Say, for example, Steve got a terrible migraine and couldn't pick the kids up from Dnd and Eddie thinks he's probably at a party and stood them up. Then Eddie finds out, maybe from Steve himself or a Party member or Steve's parents. (If you could somehow sneak in Steve's parents being good caring parents for one, it'd be really cool.) Eddie apologizes and they start getting closer. And, yeah, that's all. Thank you!!!

We know I love writing Steve with a migraine. Not to jinx anything, but it's been almost two weeks since I've had one myself so I'm sure the torture I put him through here will have instant karma and I will wake up with one. Is it realistic for Eddie to pretty much fall instantly in love with a man he hated the night before? No. Do I write realistic stories? No. Buckle up for the fastest burn you can possibly read today! - Mickala ❤️

----------------------------------------------------------------

Steve Harrington was late.

Not just a few minutes late, not like he maybe got held up at a light for an extra two minutes, not like he had to stop for gas.

He was 25 minutes late.

Eddie was pissed.

He didn’t mind hanging out with the kids longer, wouldn’t have even minded if he’d just been given a heads up that Steve would be late.

A phone call.

A fucking letter by pigeon.

Anything.

Dustin seemed worried, more than anyone else, though the later it got, the more Lucas and Will and Mike seemed to worry too.

And Eddie would maybe worry too, except he knew what was happening.

He knew because it’s all he ever expected of Steve.

Steve probably went to a party, thought he could make his rounds, maybe have a drink and sober up in time to come get the kids.

And then he probably got bribed into having another drink, maybe smoke a joint in the backyard of whatever rich kid’s house he was visiting, maybe have a shot with a group of kids who liked to spend their time bullying the very kids he was supposed to be picking up.

Maybe fuck a girl in a bedroom upstairs until he was too tired and just passed out on top of her.

He rolled his eyes at the thought.

“Maybe we could try to call his house again?” Lucas asked.

“He didn’t answer the first four times, why would he now?” Mike asked, though his eyes kept scanning the road into the trailer park, searching for headlights that wouldn’t appear.

And wasn’t that just the last straw for Eddie? Watching his favorite gremlins admire and respect someone who couldn’t even remember to pick them up? Watching them expect so much from a guy who peaked in high school, who didn’t care about them if it hindered his plans?

“You guys wait here,” he said, his hands shaking with anger.

“Where are you going?” Will asked.

“To call Robin. If anyone will know what’s up, she will,” he replied.

It was late, but not too late for a phone call between adults.

“Buckley residence, you’ve got Robin,” Robin answered the phone with a bored tone.

“Any clue why your best friend is 30 minutes late to pick the kids up from my house?” He tried not to sound angry at her, it wasn’t her fault.

But he couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t understand what band nerd, lesbian, nice person Robin could possibly see in Steve.

Sure, he carted the kids around a lot, and had helped Wayne out with Eddie’s medical stuff after Vecna, but it felt like he did it out of guilt more than anything else.

“He’s never late,” she said, her tone sharp, defensive. “You sure he knew they needed rides?”

“Positive. I heard him yell to them when he dropped them off that he’d see them in three hours.”

Robin didn’t respond for a minute, and he almost thought the line went dead.

“Has Dustin tried the walkie?” She finally asked.

“Yeah. No answer.”

“Shit.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Wanna fill me in here, Buckaroo?”

“Um. Can you bring the kids home? I gotta go check on him.”

Before he could respond, the dial tone let him know she was already gone.

“Fuck!” He yelled.

He hung up the phone and grit his teeth together.

The problem wasn’t taking the kids home, he really didn’t mind and had told them on multiple occasions that he could so they didn’t have to rely on Steve to do it.

The problem was that they had relied on Steve and he let them down.

He hated that he’d have to go out there and tell them that Steve wasn’t coming.

He hates Steve for the way he would have to watch their faces fall, for the way they’d ride to their homes in silence.

He hated Steve for the fact that he’d probably buy them all ice cream tomorrow to apologize and they’d all rely on him again.

All would be forgiven.

———————————-

The next morning, he tried calling Robin and got no answer.

He tried calling Dustin and got no answer, though he wasn’t as surprised by that since he’d already been considering going to the Sinclairs’ to spend the weekend since his mom was working.

He tried Steve’s house and got an answering machine. Twice.

He considered leaving a scathing message, but didn’t want to risk one of his parents hearing it and deleting it.

“Fuck it,” he said to himself before he grabbed his keys and decided to drive to Steve’s house.

He was a little surprised to actually see Steve’s car in the driveway, half expecting him to still be passed out at some stranger’s house.

Before he could ring the doorbell, the front door swung open and Robin’s wide eyes were silently begging him to stay quiet.

She looked exhausted, a little flustered, more stressed than he’d seen in a long time.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Maybe Steve drank more than he should’ve, maybe he wasn’t actually home and she was trying to find him still.

“Come in but be quiet. He’s finally sleeping,” she said, already walking back into the house.

He followed, closing the door behind him and giving his surroundings a quick look.

Everything looked perfect as usual except for Robin’s shoes by the door and her backpack open on the floor by the couch.

The couch that Steve was currently passed out on, blankets almost completely covering his head, ice pack resting over his eyes.

Eddie’s brows furrowed.

“Hangover?” He whispered to Robin.

She looked at him confused.

“No? He hasn’t drank in nearly a year.”

If Eddie didn’t have more control over his body, his jaw would’ve dropped.

“Oh. Um. So is he sick?” Eddie tried to gather up his thoughts, glancing over at the sleeping form on the couch.

He noticed the curtains closed and no lights turned on, noticed the complete silence in the house except for the sound of a fan running in the corner.

“He gets migraines. I thought you knew,” she said.

Eddie shook his head.

“He’s had a lot of head trauma. Gets migraines that make it impossible to even sit up sometimes. I guess he was fighting it most of the day yesterday but after he dropped the kids off with you, he passed out in the shower and barely was able to crawl to his bed after. When you called me, I kind of assumed the worst, so I came straight here and saw him naked and shivering in bed, not able to get up to get dressed or even get the covers on. Got him dressed, got him water and meds, called his parents, tried to help him eat. He spent almost an hour throwing up after that. Then he cried because he forgot the kids. Memory problems happen with the head trauma, too. I couldn’t calm him down until about an hour ago.”

Eddie let himself feel the guilt he deserved for thinking the worst of Steve.

Steve didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Eddie whispered, his voice broken thinking about how Steve had been alone here, probably scared when he was curled up in his bed unable to move.

“No. His parents are on their way. If it’s not better tomorrow, they’ll probably take him to his neurologist,” Robin responded.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

A whimper came from the couch, causing Robin to tense and hold her breath.

Eddie looked over and waited to see if maybe Steve was completely awake or if he’d just made a noise in his sleep.

After a few seconds, Robin relaxed, and he felt a breath leave his body.

“How often does this happen?” he whispered as she went to grab a drink from the fridge.

“This bad? Once a month or so. He sometimes has some memory problems without the migraine, but luckily he snaps back quickly,” she shrugged, acted as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Eddie could see right through her.

“And you help him a lot?”

“Well, his parents travel a lot for work, and he can’t always call them or remember how to contact them when it’s this bad, so yeah. I tend to be the one to take care of him until they can get here,” she said.

Eddie chewed on a piece of his hair, glancing over towards the couch every few seconds.

He was surprised this hadn’t come up before.

He was even more surprised that none of the kids had mentioned this as a possibility last night.

“Why didn’t the kids mention it last night when I was pissed?” he finally asked.

“Steve doesn’t really tell anyone. Like, the kids know, but they’ve never actually seen it, and so I think they just kinda forget. He doesn’t wanna bother them with it.”

“That’s stupid, they care about h-”

The front door started to open and a woman peeked her head inside.

Robin ran over as quickly and quietly as she could and Eddie stood awkwardly behind the couch as a middle aged woman walked into the house.

A man followed a few seconds after, a bag in hand.

“Is he asleep?” the woman asked.

“Yeah,” Robin replied before explaining much of what she’d already told Eddie to them.

The Harringtons looked surprisingly put together for a couple who probably hadn’t slept all night and most likely had flown home from somewhere as quickly as they could. They also looked nothing like what Eddie expected.

Mr. Harrington was bald, age spots on his head giving away that he must have been quite a few years older than Mrs. Harrington. She had the same color hair as Steve, same voluminous style, cut just above the shoulders. They both wore glasses, and both of them were wearing business attire like they’d rushed back directly from a meeting.

“And who is this?” he heard Mr. Harrington ask, gesturing towards Eddie.

He walked over and put his hand out to shake, trying to remember the best manners he could.

“I’m Eddie, a friend of Steve’s.”

He could feel Robin staring at him, but didn’t turn towards her. Instead, he shook Mrs. Harrington’s hand and then offered to help with any other bags they have.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We can get them later. Since he’s asleep, we’re gonna go freshen up a bit and then you can head on home. Thank you for taking care of him, Robin. You know we appreciate you so much,” Mrs. Harrington said as she hugged her.

“It’s never a problem. Take your time,” she said.

“I’ll stay, Robin. You should go home and sleep,” Eddie offered before he could think about what he was offering.

“You’ll stay? With Steve?” Robin asked incredulously.

“Yeah. He seems pretty out of it so I’m sure he won’t even wake up before they’re done,” Eddie said, hopeful that he was right.

“Alright, my mom should be here in a few minutes anyway. She was bringing me a change of clothes in case I ended up staying today, so she can just bring me home,” Robin said hesitantly.

“Okay.”

The Harringtons nodded and walked upstairs without another word, most likely too tired to care much about who stayed with Steve as long as he was being looked after.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this,” Robin said when they were gone.

“I know. But I’m the only one here who slept last night, I can handle it for a bit.”

“He can be…kind of a lot,” she sounded like she didn’t want to admit it, didn’t like saying something negative about him at all.

“It’s fine. If he’s in this much pain, then it’s understandable.”

Robin looked him over for a moment, something like understanding finally showing on her face. He didn’t know what she was understanding, but he was just grateful she didn’t seem to want to talk more.

She started zipping up her backpack, putting on her shoes, and whispering some basic instructions to Eddie in case Steve woke up.

“Replace the ice pack, don’t let him try to move off the couch by himself and only if he has to use the bathroom. The bucket at the end of the couch is if he gets sick. He needs water if you can try to help him drink some, and if he thinks he can stomach it, there’s some crackers on the coffee table. He’s due for more meds in two hours, but you probably won’t be here for that,” she rambled off.

Eddie nodded along, mentally making a to-do list.

“You’re sure you got it? He sometimes isn’t able to talk.”

Jesus Christ, how had he never noticed this? Was he that oblivious to what Steve was going through?

“I got it.”

He could hear a car pull into the driveway and Robin opened the door to leave.

“If you need me, call me. The Harringtons will probably be as quick as possible, but just in case,” she begged him.

“Okay.”

She left and closed the door behind her quietly, leaving Eddie staring at it for a minute.

He heard a small whimper from the couch and he rushed over, looking down at Steve.

The ice pack had fallen off his face, and his eyes were scrunched closed like he was still suffering even in his sleep.

Eddie leaned over to pick up the ice pack, ready to trade it out with a fresh one, when one of Steve’s eyes opened.

He froze and looked at him, hoping he would go back to sleep quickly.

“Eds?”

Shit.

He’d started calling him Eds in the hospital, always walking into his room with a bright smile and a ‘hey, Eds’ that had Eddie cracking a small smile.

He hadn’t heard it since then.

“Yeah?” he finally responded, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.

He knew when Wayne got headaches, he was very sensitive to noise.

“Hurts,” Steve whimpered out.

Eddie’s heart shattered in his chest.

He walked closer to the couch and knelt down on his knees, placing a hand on Steve’s forehead.

“I know, Stevie. You wanna try to have a sip of water for me?” He whispered.

“No, hurts.”

“Might help,” Eddie tried to bribe him.

But Steve’s eyes were closed again, and even though he wasn’t asleep, he was making it very clear that he couldn’t quite handle keeping them open right now.

Eddie gently ran his fingers back and forth across his forehead, down his nose, along his temples, smiling as Steve’s wrinkles seemed to disappear, his face relaxing slowly.

“Go back to sleep, Stevie,” he whispered.

“Mhm,” Steve let out before he seemed to actually fall back asleep.

—------------------------------

Eddie didn’t move from his spot for nearly 45 minutes, even when his legs went numb and his hand started cramping.

Steve hadn’t so much as snored, so Eddie didn’t want to risk any movement waking him up.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mrs. Harrington asked him, startling him slightly.

“No, thank you,” Eddie responded as quietly as possible.

“Are you the Eddie from the hospital? The one he insisted on visiting every day?” she asked as she sat down on the coffee table right next to him.

“Um, yes ma’am,” he knew he sounded nervous.

“Oh, so you boys worked it all out? He promised he’d tell me if you said yes!” she smiled at him.

“Worked…what out?”

Her eyes widened.

“Your feelings! Steve told us he was going over to your house the day you got out of the hospital and telling you how he felt,” she explained, sounding somewhat unsure now.

Eddie felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor.

“He what?”

“Oh dear,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap. “I suppose I was wrong.”

Eddie saw Mr. Harrington walk into the kitchen from his spot on the floor, felt the tension in the air as Mrs. Harrington tried to change the subject quickly.

But he wasn’t going to stop thinking about what she meant.

Steve had had feelings for him? Like, more than a friend feelings?

Steve let out a small groan in his sleep, shifting his head a bit.

Eddie tried to shush him a bit, running his fingers gently through his hair, careful not to catch on any tangles.

He could feel Mrs. Harrington watching, but she didn’t say anything else until Steve seemed to calm again.

“You know, Steve came out to us in March. Said he’d met a guy who was worth the risk. We love him, we always will, but we were very worried. I think any parent worries when their child, even their grown ones, says they’re in love with someone. In this case, we didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you even liked men. And Steve here tends to fall fast and fall hard and forgets to wear a parachute before the jump.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, his head filled with the way she’d called his feelings love.

“But I think I see now that he didn’t need one. I think he had you jumping with him and you remembered the parachute for him.”

He turned to look at her, her fond smile pointed at them both as he continued to run his fingers through Steve’s hair.

She got up and went into the kitchen, leaving Eddie to think about what she said.

That’s all he did for a while.

—---------------------------------------

The next time Steve woke up, he was slightly more coherent, but still didn’t want to eat or drink.

Mrs. Harrington had gone to lay down for a nap while Mr. Harrington was finishing up something in his office. They both told him to come find them if Steve woke up and needed something.

At some point, Eddie had rested his head against Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beat loudly against his ear.

“Eddie?”

No, why Eddie again? Why not Eds?

“Hey, Stevie,” he lifted his head and spoke just above a whisper. “How about a few sips of water?”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. I’ll help.”

Robin had been kind enough to find a straw for the cup of water she’d gotten before she left, so Eddie just held it up close to Steve’s lips and told him to sip.

Steve did manage a few sips before he shook his head and started to turn away.

“It’s time for more meds. Wanna take them?” Eddie asked.

“Bed?”

“Um.”

“Carry me.”

Eddie let out a small laugh at the demanding tone in Steve’s voice.

Even through the pain, and exhaustion, and struggle of speaking, he sounded like a drama queen.

Eddie might love him.

“Won’t that hurt?”

“A little.”

“Then shouldn’t you stay here?”

“Wanna cuddle.”

Oh.

“Uh. With…your mom?”

“You.”

Eddie was going to pass out.

There was no way he’d be able to carry Steve up the stairs to his room and then cuddle with him, and pretend he wasn’t feeling the overwhelming urge to propose marriage.

These new feelings kicked in too fast for him to process and he knew cuddling wouldn’t help.

“Please?” Steve asked, his eyes squinting slightly from what little light was making it through the curtains.

“Okay, but don’t laugh when I get out of breath.”

Steve didn’t respond, or really do anything to acknowledge what Eddie said, but he was pretty sure Steve’s head hurt too much to laugh anyway so he took a chance.

He removed the blankets on top of him and managed to pick him up relatively easily.

The walk to the stairs wasn’t bad.

The walk up the stairs was rough for a couple reasons: One, Eddie was out of shape and Steve weighed roughly the same as him. Two, Steve kept whimpering in pain with every step.

When they finally reached his bedroom, Eddie was panting and Steve had a couple tears falling from his eyes.

“I sure hope the cuddling lives up to expectations after that,” Eddie tried to joke.

“Worth it,” Steve sighed.

He set Steve in his bed first, made sure the fan in the room was on and the curtains were shut, then got into his bed.

People dreamed for most of high school to be in this position, but Eddie hadn’t let himself picture it.

He wouldn’t have ever pictured this scenario anyway.

Steve was sweaty, almost like he was running a fever, but Eddie didn’t let that deter him from scooting closer and moving Steve into his arms.

They both fell asleep in minutes, Eddie’s fingers wrapped up in Steve’s hair.

—----------------------------------------

When Eddie woke again, it was pitch black in the room.

Steve was also awake.

“Stevie? You need something? Feeling any better?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, and Eddie considered running to get one of his parents, when he finally spoke up.

“A little. Thanks”

Eddie let out a breath and relaxed back against the pillows under him.

“You can go if you want,” Steve nearly whispered into the darkness.

Eddie tensed again as he looked over at Steve, who was playing with the blanket covering him in his hands, not looking at Eddie.

“And if I don’t want to?” Eddie asked, reaching a hand out to hold Steve’s.

“I know you hate me, so. You can go.”

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Eddie couldn’t let him think he hated him, even though up until this morning, he thought he did.

“Stevie, lay down and look at me.”

Steve, surprisingly, listened and Eddie felt a tug at his heart that Steve was willing to listen to him that easily.

Eddie cupped Steve’s jaw, gentle in case of any lingering migraine pains.

“I don’t hate you. I think I realized that maybe I had my own feelings wrong for a long time,” he admitted.

“What?”

“The best part of my days in the hospital were when you visited. Wayne used to make fun of me when you left for being stuck in the hospital for longer because I was lovesick. And when I got home and you didn’t come visit unless you were bringing the kids by, I just kinda thought it meant things were back to normal. King Steve didn’t need to be nice anymore, his charity case was safe and mostly healed,” Eddie stopped Steve from interrupting at that, scared to lose his train of thought. “So I went back to hating you. It’s easier to hate someone when your heart’s broken, ya know? And I just assumed you were the same Steve I thought you always were. But then I realized that you never really were the Steve I thought you were. And especially now, you’re a guy who deserves kindness and care and love. I’d really like the chance to give that to you.”

He felt Steve’s face getting wet and he brushed his thumbs back and forth to wipe away the tears falling.

“I was going to tell you the day you got out of the hospital,” Steve said, voice trembling.

“Tell me what?”

“That I loved you.”

The world stopped spinning, Eddie would bet money on it.

“You did?”

“I did.” Steve gulped. “I do.”

“You do?”

“You’re a hard person to fall out of love with, Munson.”

It was Eddie’s turn to cry, a few tears falling from his eyes onto the pillowcase below.

“So…”

“So?” Steve asked.

“Is the headache better? I’d really like to kiss you,” Eddie said.

“It’s good enough for a kiss. Might even work better than the meds,” Steve’s smirk could be seen even in the darkness.

Eddie didn’t need to wait for more permission than that.

He was gentle, of course. Just because his migraine had gotten better, didn’t mean he was ready to make out.

He gave him a couple soft pecks on the lips, smiling when he felt Steve smiling against him.

“I think you’re probably pretty easy to fall in love with, Harrington.”

“Yeah?” he asked, voice rough.

“Yeah, might be a new record for me.”

“I’ve been told it’s very sexy when I’m suffering through a migraine,” Steve joked.

“You have no idea,” Eddie joked back.

They stayed in bed all night, Steve eventually falling back asleep again.

Eddie stayed awake though, memorizing the shape of Steve’s body with his fingers, or at least what he could reach while he held him.

They could talk more tomorrow, when Steve’s migraine fully subsided.

But Eddie knew what he wanted now, and he’d never been so happy to be wrong about someone.

[rustingcat]

The moment Kara heard Sam was coming to town she knew there would be trouble.

Not that she had anything against the woman, quite the opposite, she absolutely adored Sam. But her visits tend to be a bit… chaotic.

It started not long after Ruby turned old enough to babysit Esme by herself. Sam would fly to National city for a weekend, leaving Ruby at the Danvers-Olsen house for a paid sleepover with Esme, and dragged the superfriends to the nearest Bar to get them all shitfaced drunk.

Kara would not easily forget waking up on the roof of a ferris wheel once, wearing a clown outfit and hugging a pogo stick. She did forget the events leading up to that point due to the large amount of alcohol she consumed the night before.

Kara briefly toyed with the idea to visit her parents on Argo for the duration of Sam's visit, or at the very least her first night. But she hasn't seen her in so long, and with Kara's very busy schedule she decided it's a good opportunity as any to take some time off and enjoy a night out with her friends. She just hoped there would be no stumbling drunkenly into any more theme parks.

That's why she was very surprised to learn that Sam's new adventurous plan was a simple game night at Kara’s apartment.

With alcohol, of course.

Kara kept her drinking at a minimum, just enough to get some nice buzz out of it, but a far cry from a complete black out. She wasn't the only one, most participants had seemingly decided to avoid a similar fate. Much to Sam's disappointment, Kara assumed, since she kept asking them to do shots.

After a few tame games of Settlers of Catan and a round of pictionary, Sam decided to spice things up a bit. They started with a game of 'would you rather' that slowly evolved into an open question format where everyone answered the same questions.

"Favourite… type of apple?" It was Nia's turn to ask, she spent almost 5 minutes struggling to find a question before settling on one.

"Really? That's the best you got?" Sam asked disappointed.

"I was panicking! That's the only thing I could think of!" Nia said defensively, her arms raising in the air in surrender. "Do you have anything better?"

"You know it," Sam said with a sly smile.

"Go ahead then."

"Alright," Sam clapped her hands, moving her gaze from one person to the next slowly before she continued. "Not including your actual partner, who would you marry out of the people in this room?"

"And I can't choose Nia?" Brainy asked, his hands deep in Nia's hair, drunkenly caressing her hair between his fingers. He may have gotten slightly drunker than most by trying to be nice and accepting most of Sam's shots.

"That would be against the rules." Sam smiled and twisted the wine glass in her hand.

"That's preposterous!" He exclaimed. Nia's head recoiled with a small groan of pain as Brainy accidentally hit her head. "There is no possibility in the multiverse I would pick anyone but her!" He announced, Nia remembered to move her head in time to avoid the second hit.

"You're no fun," Sam rolled her eyes. "Nia?" She smirked.

"Only Brainy, of course." She proclaimed loudly. Brainy rewarded her with a kiss on the forehead while she mouthed 'Kelly' under her breath.

Sam winked to her in return, while the rest tried to hide their chuckle.

"Kelly, you're next for no particular reason," Sam turned to her with a smile.

"Nia," Kelly replied with a matching smile. "For no particular reason."

"Alex?" Sam changed the topic before Brainy could interject.

"You know, I think we could've worked out," she weaved her hand towards Sam's direction.

"Yeah, we could've had some fun," Sam smirked back at her. "Alright, Kara, what about you?" She turned to face her.

"Lena," Kara answered without much thinking.

"Well, she is rich, it makes sense," Sam said under the rim of her glass.

"Rich wife is very convenient," Alex nodded in agreement.

"I'm not choosing her because of her money." The idea of reducing Lena to her finance, a walking wallet if you will, infuriated her. She was so much more than that. Kara put down her empty glass and stood up a bit faster than she intended.

"Then why her?" Sam challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Kara blinked in surprise, was it not obvious? "Because she is amazing! She's brilliant, smart, kind and… pretty," she added with a small blush creeping up her neck. "Also a great listener and problem solver, which is important in a relationship. And-"

"Yeah okay, we got it," Alex cut her off.

Kara gave her a mocking look in response, eyebrows squinted and tongue sticking out as she walked up to the kitchen to refill her glass.

"Lena, who is your pick?" Sam continued with the game.

"Kara, of course." The way she said it, as if there were no other options, filled Kara with warmth she was not expecting. She also wasn't sure why it made her smile so much, but it did. Then again they were best friends, it would be awkward if they were not to pick each other, right?

"Hey Kara, can you get me a beer?" Alex called out.

Kara studied her for a second. "No, you were being annoying."

"Wha- Kara!" Alex whined.

"Get one yourself," Kara shrugged, and poured herself a glass of white wine.

"Kara, can you give me a glass of red, please?" Lena asked. Her voice was so soft, it sent shivers down her spine.

"Of course," Kara quickly pulled another wine glass from the upper cupboard and placed it on her kitchen island.

"Hey, I asked you first," Alex shouted in retaliation, as she finished filling the second glass. "So you're getting Lena's drink and not mine?"

"Yes," Kara answered with a smile, walking back to the living room while maintaining eye contact with her sister, knowing it would annoy her more.

"Why?" Alex challenged, squinting her eyes while maintaining the eye contact.

"Wife privileges," Kara shrugged and took her place next to Lena, shifting a bit closer to her this time before she placed her glass on the table.

Kara almost forgot about the whole thing, until a week later when Lena brought it up. They were sitting in Lena's new office, talking about her new conjoined plan for both her foundation and the newly reformed L-Corp for a new source of green energy. A top secret plan, but Lena was talking about it with so much enthusiasm that Kara couldn't help herself, asking more and more questions, eager to learn more about it. Soon after, Kara found herself in the halls of the foundation's labs, Lena excitedly telling her about the project in detail.

"This sounds amazing, Lena! But I thought this was top secret, not that I'm complaining. I love seeing you this enthusiastic, but how come I get to hear about it?" Kara asked eventually.

Lena was quiet for a moment, before she answered "wife privileges," with a shrug, her cheeks slightly pink.

Kara brought it up next, when she forced Lena to leave the office at a reasonable time. Claiming 'wife privileges' as the reason Lena has to follow her home and relax for a bit.

Lena later used it as an excuse to steal a fry off of Kara’s plate, even though she insisted she only wanted a salad. When she met Kara raised brow she simply shrugged and claimed “wife privileges.”

It quickly became an inside joke for them, a reason for them to do a nice thing for each other or an excuse to get away with stuff; like buying lunch, stealing clothes or bringing surprise pastries. Things they were already doing anyway, they just had a better excuse to do it more often.

"Hey, it's been a month since that game night," Kara said, raising her very fancy wine glass to her lips. Lena invited her to a fancy Italian place that opened recently. It was right after Kara mentioned a craving for pasta the day before.

"Are you suggesting it's our anniversary?" Lena smirked, leaning back on her chair. She didn't need to be specific, she knew Lena knew what she was talking about.

"Happy anniversary." Kara raised her wine glass and smiled. She loved how quick Lena could understand her.

"Happy anniversary." Lena raised her own glass to toss it with hers, smiling her wide smile with the dimples that made Kara all warm inside. She was so captivated by the smile that it took Kara a few moments to realise the waiter was standing right beside them.

The meal was, of course, amazing, not only because of the quality Italian cuisine, but her fantastic company. Kara always felt most like herself when she was with Lena, she wasn't sure why but she made her feel at peace.

They finished their meal, still deep in conversation, sipping the remaining of their wine when the waiter appeared. Presenting them with a complementary tiramisu with a candle and two spoons, wishing them a happy anniversary.

Kara was about to correct him when Lena thanked him with a nod and gestured for Kara to dig in. She couldn't help the goofy smile that spread on her face. Out of all the inside jokes so far, she had the feeling that that was their best one yet.

Read the rest in AO3

[woman-respecter]

okay one last rant about chappell cuz i'm sure you're sick of herr (same):

i'm soooo tired of white people. i hate how chappell acts about palestine because it's SO "i learned activism from the internet and i have insane white guilt and i feel guilt for being a privileged white american" and that helps no one. bonus: she has republican parents so she has to force the activism even harder to compensate for her shitty family. i hate both sides as well but i'm not a stupid ass white person who won't be affected as much by not voting and not backing kamala.

chappell is so embarrassing like even taylor swift said i support kamala. her internet activism means that she would rather say guyssss both sides bad :/ than actually do anything of any value (it feels like she wants to be leftist so baddd that she ends up a fool... "all presidents bad i can't support any" girl you're high up in the evil capitalist music inudstry i wouldn't judge too hard if i were u..) but that's current activism for you doe. why make any change when you can just complain and do nothing? besides, leftists rn would tear any change apart to shreds cuz they expect everything to be fixed immediately. i've seen so many leftists get upset seeing progress of anything rn because because g-g-genocide!

leftists: you evil white gays celebrate improved gay rights in a red state ur so evil ugh a genocide is happening and ur happy? you need to blow yourself up to prove your loyalty to palestine and to understand what they're going through!

lastly everything chappell and ethel cain does for palestine is so forced and fake lol. it's all to make them feel better about being white and privileged. ethel cain makes jokes about killing the president girl! 🤔 youre enjoying your nice white life in a comfortable position in the music industry...you'd never give that up and stand on business cause ur all words no action..

ethel made a song for palestine and it was good but since she graduated with honors from the school of internet activism i cannot take it seriously. everything she does screams "sorry for being white :("

and then hunter from euphoria got praised for getting arrested at a JVP PROTEST (LMAO). like that rich white girl getting arrested and then nothing happened to her is not revolutionary it's actually giving kendall pepsi ad ! i will say it's more than ethel and chappell put together but still pathetically whitee.

lastly hayley from paramore ethel hunter chappell none of them actually support palestine. they try so hard to be leftist and activists which is ironic because they are capitalizing on palestine to look good, to overcompensate for their whiteness and privilege and because of guilt. their "support for palestine" are just large pr stunts that bring them more fans and more money. look at ethel. she LOVES florence (i believe they are good friends) and florence is besties with taylor swift and endorsed kamala. all bark no bitee :)

i HATE all of the performative leftist celebs you mentioned (except hayley from paramore) so fucking much. it’s obvious that their priorities are getting rid of their white guilt, being edgy, and winning clout points with the online left. they do not give an actual shit about palestine. the funny thing is that if taylor’s endorsement really does help keep trump out of the white house she will have done more for palestine than all those losers combined. sorry!

and yeah its funny that ethel, and almost every pop girlie, is at most like 2 or 3 degrees away from someone who is friends with taylor or idolizes taylor. sorry haters it really is that way. she’s your favorite artist’s ACTUAL favorite artist

[barcaluvv]

𝐊 𝐄 𝐘 ʰᵉᶜᵗᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳᵗ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ !! ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ :)

Your whole life your family tries to match you with someone, otherwise it would be friendly families or sometimes even strangers. You were tired of getting ready every time, and you had enough more of arranging. But sigh, another week another family to meet, leaving the house, you think to yourself, what kind of unfortunate guy will he be now, minutes later a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up in your back yard, he was beeping like crazy, I already know he's an impatient little sh!t right there but after seeing the car you understood exactly why they picked him to be your next failed stage.

in the back seat were his parents, I could hear his mother telling him "open the door for her you fool" several times but he just kept his feet on the pedal, smelling his own narcissistic perfume that surprisingly seemed too good. On the way to the restaurant, we sat in silence, you could just see hector looking at you in the rearview mirror, smirking his head off. When you arrived at the restaurant, you couldn't stand it, and with each point he insulted you in a slighty rich-nice way like every other full of money guy. We will leave you now alone, his father told him now, waving at him. When they got out, he immediately relaxed and took off his tie, feeling a relief. So tell me who made u do this, i asked him openly.

"I trusted my gut" said Hector. For exactly what? you asked with a distance on your face. I thought there would be some nice piece, said the curly head with a immense smirk on his face, but now I see it was telling me the wrong thing. Oh shut up, youre not all that. he rolled his eyes at your sentence, "would this change your mind? hmm?" said Hector i assume that's his name.

He brang up a bag, not only was it too much even the bag was shining through. "You can't buy me with all of this but thanks i appreciate the effort lil buddy". "Are you that hard to get?" your answer to that question was just .gulp. just a little gulp, like a needle down your troath.

when we went home, at the very exit we saw that someone stole his car, oh my god, he went crazy. We called the police, but they just told us to find a hotel on the spur of the moment.

Good now we have to walk to the hotel, you yelled at him. "Oh shut up you're the bad luck here". That sentence hurted you inside and now you thought with yourself.

His hair is disgusting - 𝐿𝑖𝑎𝑟

I hate the way it curls - 𝑂𝒉 𝑛𝑜 𝑖 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡.

The curves on his shoulders, his lips

theyre sickening - 𝑆𝑢𝑐𝒉 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑙.

His hands are so uninviting - 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝑡𝒉𝑒𝑛.

I hate him - 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝒉𝒊𝒎.

We had luck that after 20 minutes of walking we finally found a cheap hotel 3 blocks away of the restaurant we went.

"Nice now we have to stay in this cheap place, and the worst part of it that you're gonna be next to me." If you don't like it then buy 2 rooms! You can literally buy this whole place but your narcissistic self cannot help?.

"Maybe i dont want you in another room okay." He seemed pretty serious so you just gave up.

The room only has one bed, and a small chair next to it, it's so old that you can barefoot break it.

I'm sleeping on the sofa you said, you take the bed then.

"Cmon here, I'm not gonna let you sleep there, then afterwards pay for your medication, here its way too cold, just dont come near me" said Hector. You both looked at the ceiling until you felt asleep, I mean at least one of you needed. Even though you were in a deep sleep, you could feel his warm breath surrounding your whole collarbone.

That night you had a nightmare, you screamed, calling out his name, all shaking. Of course you woke him up too, but unexpectedly he approached your body, hugging you " Shh!! It's okay Hermosa, I'm here dont you worry youre safe with me love" you felt your body calming a valuable piece of your mind. "See its not that scary, you got me" said Hector holding your hand aggressively. All i thought about was his little whispers, his effortlessly tiny fingertips going through my hair i felt everything. Pooking your blushy cheeks, letting out "you're not that bad as i thought you were, and now if you allow me" he kissed you.

5 year's after this, you didn't have to look for a boyfriend in anyone anymore, because you found a husband in him. after this night, everything changed and this was the story of how me and your amazing mother met, said Hector.

[demonslayedher]

What if nezuko and tanjiro were raised by Obanai and Mitsuri?

Whoa, I have never considered this. Let's assume an altered timeline, so, say, itty-bitty Tanjiro hid with almost-walking Nezuko in a closet when a demon killed their parents. Mitsuri and Obanai, who like one another and have sort of figured that out by they are awkward about where to take it from there (since Mitsuri doesn't want to make the first move but can't figure out why Obanai won't), arrive on the scene, and Kaburamaru finds the hiding children.

Mitsuri is instantly attached and wants very badly to make it up to these orphaned children whom she failed. Obanai is trying to tell her why that idea is irresponsible, but Kaburamaru has already become fiercely attached to the terrified children who find comfort in the cuddly snake. It's not as if Obanai can't relate to that, so he gives in, on the caveat that they will take care of them only until they can hand them off to someone more qualified.

They're first thought is Shinobu, but she already has her hands full. They ask the Kakushi, but the Kakushi insist that this is out of their skill set. They think of asking Ubuyashiki but don't want to bother him by setting a precedent. No luck at Wisteria Houses they come across, who are already doing all they can. Wishing to find someone with experience to adopt them, Obanai makes a desperate visit to Shinjuro, who yells at him to take responsibility and get what was coming to him by so idealistically becoming a swordsman. He announces to Mitsuri (who is already very attached) that they'll see their responsibility through.

Since the Kamado children stay at the Kanroji estate most of the time, this is what gets Obanai to finally meet her family, which pressures them more into considering the state of their relationship, especially they Obanai spends time with the children out of a sense of responsibility and Mitsuri, once the decision to keep them was made, wants to spend as much free time with them as possible. Being in a coparent relationship also forces them to confront Obanai's issues.

Both toddlers take to Mitsuri readily, and they like Obanai too, but they both (especially Tanjiro, who can talk better) are sensitive to him being sad. Obanai is nice and tries to be child-appropriate but answers very plainly and honestly when Tanjiro asks why he's sad, thinking that this is out of respect for a child's intellect. Poor Tanjiro wants to help but is often confused. Obanai is a little annoyed how buddy-buddy Tanjiro and Kaburamaru are but he allows it. As Tanjiro grows up and the snake gets older, Kaburamaru spends less and less time in battle with Obanai. Tanjiro is a dutiful son whom Obanai figures pucked up a lot of traits from being raised by Mitsuri, but he reminds Tanjiro to always be grateful to his original family who loved and protected him too. This makes him supportive (albeit concerned for his safety) when Tanjiro says he wants to fight demons too. Tanjiro eventually picks up Snake Breathing, though Obanai points out that he's not totally suited for it. (If it weren't for how annoying he finds Giyuu, he would suggest Tanjiro try Water Breathing.)

Mitsuri is less supportive because she worries about Tanjiro's safety. He is her wonderful son whom she loves very much, after all. But if he's sure he can accept the risks, she allows him to try.

Nezuko has grown up babied by her unckes and aunts and does not know the responsibility of being an older sister. She always wants to be just like her mom (but Obanai sternly put a stop her dressing up like mom, which made little Nezuko cry because she didn't understand why he was angry). She wears fancy kimono and makes sweets and wears long braids and goes to school, and is a dutiful and sweet daughter as she grows up. Despite having riches, this does seem to go to her head, and she still practices humilty and thrift, which really endears her to Obanai. He originally was a bit more standoffish from Nezuko, but Nezuko feels secure in his care for her even if it's nothing like the open, loving, huggy relationship she has with her adoptive mother. When Tanjiro picks up the sword, she insists on learning too, but Tanjiro and Mitsuri don't want this. Obanai lets her give it a shot, but she's too fiery for Snake Breath, and not physically capable of Love Breath, despite how much she has always done her best to imitate mom.

So Nezuko finally does something a spoiled brat would do and she runs away to ask Uncle Kyojuro for Flame Breath training. This causes a brief argument between Hashira but it is soon settled, and Tanjiro sort of wishes he had thought of that before getting so deep into making Snake Breath work for him. Tanjiro & Kaburamaru and Nezuko eventually go through the Final Selection together and begin a sibling journey to avenge their birth parents, with their adoptive parents giving them their blessing and watching over them from afar.

And then, having seem that through, Obanai is finally ready to get married.

[halfagone]

So here’s a unique twist of a common prompt. Danny is the son of Bruce Wayne, whoever his mother is is up to you. However, Danny wants nothing to do with Bruce or his family for whatever reason, whether it’s because Damian treated him badly as a child or maybe he just doesn’t like how Bruce operates. Either way, they meet and the meeting ends badly. What do you think?

There are actually a lot of reasons why Danny might not want to stay with Bruce or stay away from Bruce. There is, of course, the usual "Danny has billionaire trauma" route that works for some arguments (although not all (but I'll leave that ramble for another time)). You could always go with Danny and Damian didn't get along (if we're doing a Demon Siblings AU). But I think the route that goes best is just that... Danny has a lot of Trauma™ and he's not ready to join another family.

Unfortunately those kinds of AUs would probably be the sadder ones because that can mean that he has problems and/or is cut off from Jazz too. Because as much as I love Jazz, she was never the bastion of perfection and older sisterhood that we sometimes like to paint her as. She tried, just like her parents did, and sometimes she failed. ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ

In those AUs Danny is probably trying to live on his own. Maybe he's emancipated, maybe he's turned 18 already (I do have a fic idea where Danny moves out of the house after turning 18 despite not graduating yet, which is a thing you can do. Plenty of kids' birthdays pass before June graduation in the U.S., after all.) He's just started to stand on his own two feet and probably move past the neglect, both physical and emotional, that came with living with the Fentons.

Enter Bruce. Bruce, who has abandonment issues and is one paranoid motherclucker (and yes, that was intentional), who has just found out he has an unknown son from either a past relationship or one-night stand. Of course he's going to want to know more about Danny and catch up on all the time he lost with Danny. And the thing about Bruce is that sometimes he acts like a bad father purely because he doesn't know how to communicate his feelings and does all these things that come off as insensitive and/or overbearing.

Sometimes Danny might be able to make it work. But depending on the downturn his life might have taken... sometimes he can't. And for a Danny that might have just gotten that hard-earned independence... it likely won't be pretty.

---

Danny doesn't know what to make of Bruce Wayne. The man seems nice... enough. He's a bit too excitable, tries a little too hard. It's clear as day that he's trying, much more than Danny's adoptive parents could ever bother to sometimes, but it's... Danny would appreciate it more if Bruce just gave up.

He's happy to see that Bruce didn't willingly give Danny up. No word yet on Danny's bio mom, but at least he's got that going for him. He could do without Bruce's meaningful attempts to introduce him to the rest of the family or find out more about him.

Danny absentmindedly tugs at his collar. He really wishes he'd just turned Sam down when he had the chance. Tucker had balked when she extended the invitation out to him. Usually Danny would be her first choice, since he had some semblance of High Society Table Manners™ which usually Sam wouldn't give a shit about, but well, Tucker had gone once, got embarrassed to hell and back, and pretty much sworn off against it ever since.

He'd only moved out from Fenton Works three weeks ago. Danny could understand why she didn't want to ask him while he got settled in.

But well, she was his friend. And with the risk of her parents trying to openly marry her off to some rich guy (as opposed to subtly trying to marry her off, like they were doing now), Danny had taken one for the team and agreed.

If he knew this was going to happen, he would have just stayed home and figured out how to cook scrambled fucking eggs.

"I'm not very comfortable with this conversation right now, Mr. Wayne," Danny said plainly to the man. They were off in a side room at this point, tucked away from the rest of the crowd that would usually gawk at them otherwise. Already he'd turned heads when people recognized him as familiar.

To be honest though, even if they hadn't gone to a more secluded room, Danny still would have told it to the man straight.

"Oh, is it because your friend isn't here? I told you you're more than welcome to-" Bruce started again but Danny cut him off with a sigh.

"That's not the problem here, Mr. Wayne," Danny deadpanned. "I don't know why you're expecting me to be on board so quickly but I- I just turned eighteen. I have an apartment, I have a job. I know I'm still a kid in your eyes but I haven't been your kid in- ever. No matter what any paternity test ends up saying, which I still haven't agreed to by the way-"

"You're not even willing to try?" Bruce asked in return, like he'd been struck across the face.

It seemed genuine enough, like he was sincerely hurt by Danny's standoffish attitude. And Danny would feel guilty if he weren't so tired right now. He'd been tired for the past four years and he didn't need this on top of it all as some twisted cherry on top of the shitty whipped cream that was his life.

"No, I'm not," Danny told the man, straightforward. People had said no to Bruce before, right? Surely, someone had.

He began to doubt when Bruce just stared at him, dumbfounded. Danny didn't let the silence linger because he didn't linger, just moved on and left the side room. He could feel Bruce's eyes on him as he went, and then some of the other Waynes' eyes on him when he came into view. He ignored all of them and tried to find Sam.

Maybe her parents would even be willing to let him go back to the hotel room, after the huge 'scene' he'd just caused.

[dairy-farmer]

I call this the Highlander Au! >:Dc There can Be Only One! (Unless he REALLY enjoys the process and the world stops going to shit for like... FIVE god damned minutes!) (The second is sadly unlikely)

Tim? Fully Cis gendered male. Not terribly ATTACHED to this, physically, but certainly identifies as Male and has a male body.

Maybe it's been all the near misses. The "all my friends fuckin DIED on my and I mentally spiraled like you wouldn't believe". Could be him finally reclaiming his life. Or yet another horrible mental spiral. Who knows!

But he's decided.

He wants to be a Dad. *sound of various Bats choking and/or dropping things*

Is even seeing anybody? Nope. How the FUCK is he gonna get a baby?! Oh, normal, Bat Paranoid fashion. Cloning tube. Same way Damian happened. He just needs to figure out the maternal DNA and he's golden. Figure out where to hide his tech to stop Villainous Baby Snatching Plots.

Because that's a very real concern.

No you can't talk him out of this. Timmy want himself a baby. Is already designing a nursery and studying child development books. Parenting manuals, getting those little animal onsies, lazer death grids to ward of Ra's ninjas. The works.

Bruce is off to the side, quietly having an aneurysm and choking to death on his own spit. Baby boy? Fatherhood? OFFSPRING!? Alone and not going to LET HIM HELP!? But why would he help!? Bad idea! But. But he needs to BE THERE to TAKE CARE of TIM and the future BABY! Aaaaaaaaa-!!!!!

It's a... "Fun" time. Dick is nearing a nervous breakdown. Bruce not far behind. Damians having Feelings(tm).

Then! At a Wayne Charity Event(tm)? Small glowing child. Looks alien. Is getting upset. People backing away IN A HURRY because they just watched this child WARP REALITY to turn the nearest table into candy.

Tim is there as the face of the family. A hero. Already feeling generally Paternal. Upset baby is Bad. So he goes in, dispite clear protests. Gets low and talks soothing.

But the alien Wants Her MOMMY!

And? Oh. Well there goes the protective amulets JLA Dark made for him. Now he's in an alien dress and? Very much no longer Cis. Guess he would have and DID inherent from his dad's side of the family, no boobs. Tiny. At least he got his mom's killer legs.

And the kiddo isn't scared any more. Since he "looks like mommy".

Except not even remotely, because she warps into being an HOUR later, looking for her daughter and is made of pure light. Thanks him. Doesn't FIX anything. And just leaves. Gee, thanks lady.

There were REPORTERS there. Tim Drake has tits now. Front page news. Great. Ra's is GOING to know and get WEIRD about it.

Tim shrugs. Off to Leslie we go, though. Check up time!

Yep. Full lady bits action. And, hey! Shiny new spleen! So that's nice.

It DOES change his plan though. He didn't, you know, collect any "samples" yet. But? Does... does he NEED too? He COULD concoct a story of "rich person hires mystic to get penis back" after going and getting magiced back.... OR?

He could have someone put a baby in him! *simultaneous Bat Choking Noises*

MUCH easier to defend. THEN he could be changed back, after the baby is weaned. The problem is who to trust? Ra's is ABSOLUTELY going to do everything in his power to get his seed inside Tim new puss. So a seed bank is out. And-

*hands slam on the table*

Obviously! We can't trust anyone outside this house! Villian plots and Ra's specifically! Bat paranoia! W-we will just have to make this sacrifice for you!

.....Weirdly intense, but okay.

Objection! Says Tim's newly no longer Dead team mates. Tim tried to CLONE Kon! OBVIOUSLY it should be Kon! And Bart! Bro Threesome! Let nature decide! (Then kid number 2 is the other Bro, is only FAIR)

ALSO a good point. He did have that promise, if one of them ever got turned into a girl. And a Kon baby WOULD be nice...

Shit! Grayson pulls "last of my legacy and I have so much to make up for" cards!

Is betrayed by his OWN FATHER (Bruce! How COULD YOU!?) Who plays "you saved me from the time steam and nearly died for me, let me help(emotional)" to devastating effect!

Cheating! Howls the Speedster! You're CHEATING!!!

And Tim stands there... kinda confused but finding he's actually Really In To This as people argue over how much THEY want to be the one to put a baby in him? He's never felt this badly WANTED. Desired.

He may not want to go through the whole "actually carrying a baby for 9 months then pushing one out" thing more then once.... but the fighting over him thing? This might be awaking something.

And, well, Kon already made a good point. Why try to control it? Let nature decide~

Everyone can help.

The argument stops dead. For all of the seconds before "who goes first?" Occurs to everyone.

Sadly for THEM, Bruce is a bastard willing to play dirty to get what he wants. And his house his rules. He goes first. After all, he no doubt smirks, none of THEM have the... experience, to handle a virgin properly.

He refuses to allow Tim hurt on his watch.

Got it? Good talk. Tim, with him.

Which is what leads to Tim clawing at the bed and begging like his life depends on it, soaked in sweat, hours later. As Bruce STILL gently, teasingly, RUTHLESSLY eats him out. Puddles worth of lube ruining the sheets and easing his way, as he works calloused fingers DEEP to find spots Tim didn't know he had yet. As they rub and tease and fuck against those spots so relentlessly it feels like Tim's coming apart.

He didn't even know he could MAKE half these noises.

His hole is so wet and sloppy, it's like it's given up. Like his body can do nothing but quiver and twitch under Bruce's hands. Given how big he is? Probably the point. Because he crawls up to loom over Tim like a giant. Presses kisses to his whimpering, sweaty face. And rocks into his exhausted body, filling every inch of him.

It doesn't even hurt. Something that big probably SHOULD for his first time, but Bruce isn't a legendary playboy for nothing. And it just fills and Fills and FILLS. Rubs against everything in a way that makes his toes curl. Makes him want to gasp and cling, even though he's so exhausted.

Bruce just shooshes him. Pulls him close. He won't have to do a thing. He can just cling to Bruce and feel good. Bruce is here. He's got you.

And it's the best thing Tim's ever felt. Forget masturbation, sex is AMAZING. Bruce rocking then thrusting then pounding into his body. Holding tight like something precious. Hammering his good spots still he sees stars. Til he's nearly sobbing, hiccuping, from how good it feels to have his insides all messed up.

Bruce fills him up. All gooey and warm. Picks him up and carries him to a clean bed to get wiped down and tucked in. Cleans up then joins him. Fills him back up and tucks him close. He feels boneless and precious. Sleeps like the dead.

Discovers sex with a puss is AWESOME.

Next morning, he's barely out of Bruce's room before Dick is scooping him up and dragging him into his room. Almost franticly bending him in half as he presses him to the bed, kissing the air out of him. Holding his face as he whispers filthy praise into his lips. Hips relentless as they slam home, pounding at just the right angle.

Like he's trying to make for YEARS of mistakes by pouring it all into pleasure NOW. Clinging tight and trying to fry Tim's brain with how good he can make him feel. Dick buries his faces against Tim's neck and rutts like he's making up for lost time. Fucking Tim through orgasms, spilling again and again, like he's determined to drain his balls dry and wring every last bit of pleasure he CAN out of Tim's exhausted body.

Tim has to threaten to hit him with an alarm clock to let him up. Tim wants LUNCH damn it. They missed breakfast. By a LOT.

But then work calls. Damn it. So he has to get dressed. Double damn it. And he does it, but refuses to be pleased about it. Resolves things. Even gets ahead on work. Only for DAMIAN to walk stiffly into his office. Sus.

The gremlin hands him a frankly VERY well put together report on why he, Damian AL Ghul... should be allowed to fuck a baby into Tim. He has brought along a slide show and genealogical report.

.......Explain.

Damian does. He REALIZED some things about himself. When Tim was discussing becoming a Father. Using the same method as he, himself, was created. Went through a whole "go to the Kent farm and have a life change adventure" character growth arc, as you do. And? Now realizing that he potentially COULD be DIRECTLY involved in the Hypothetical Child's life instead of as an uncle?

He wants in. They could be glorious, combined. AND he firmly believes Tim will be a magnificent Mother. Let him Father your child.

It's a bad idea. Tim knows this. He literally JUST slept with Bruce yesterday and nothing good comes from sleeping with AL Ghul's. They Obsess. But? Fuck it. Maybe THIS is the thing that finally stops the Tim-Gremlin cold war and bring peace to house Wayne once and for all. He unbuckles his belt. Walks over to his resting room.

And Tim KNOWS, even as he's being urgently fucked into the fold out bed, that this is an AWFUL idea. No way in HELL, from the desperate and sloppy thrusts, clinging, panting and whines, is this NOT Damian's first time. He's utterly undone.

Pounding load after load into Tim because it feels too good to stop. All enthusiasm and no skill. Half the pleasure Tim's even GETTING is his own hand, relentlessly teasing his own clit. But? Oh. The feeling of being wanted so BADLY. Of cum, gushing and gushing into him. Knowing it's HIS hole that's so good, it's driving Damian incoherent.

He feels... sexy. It DEFINITELY does something for him. He may not be able to go back. Could see himself enjoying being a milf.

But of course. Business hours end. And he PROMISED! Is swept up by Bart for their threesome. Which, after several rounds and untold loads of near-no-refractary-period speedster cum dumped inside him? Is kinda spotty, in his memory.

All he knows for certain is he wakes up to his sheepish best friends, "Sorry we fucked you unconscious repeatedly" bribes, no voice, and a warm bath. He's also plugged up and FULL full of that premium speedster/half-kryptonian blend cum, because apparently his friend intend to WIN and nothing says victory like overwhelming odds. He'd call them fuckers, but they ARE and hold no remorse. He can't move.

Carry him you bastards.

When he asks where Cassie is, he learns she's apparently trying to harrass the magic users into a making her a temporary "turn me into a dude" amulet. Both as a gift AND so she can join the race for Father Of Tim's Baby. Huh. Interesting new options.

Obviously, throughout ALL of this, ninjas. Because Ra's has never wanted to smash so hard in his LIFE.

Instead, Tim is out here, on Jason's shitty couch. Getting lifted up and slammed down onto his cock. Called baby girl. Princess. Jason's never been harder. Already planning their kids graduation dinner and baby number three.

Tim feeling precious and taken care of and DESIRED. Like the young adult with a first shitty apartment he never got to be. Something so close to normal. Put a baby in him. Fuck him like you love him, like they do this every Saturday night, then eat pizza and watch trash TV. Fill him up.

And if course~ it's a VICIOUS game of Fuck The Tim keep away, up until one day he starts to show. Then Everyone is loving and coddling and in a "No I Am The Father" cold war. The birth is a nightmare, because Tim is slender and more scar tissue then not. But?

Adorable quarter-Kryptonian! With the biggest blue eyes and Tim's porcelain doll face.

Tim is NOT doing that again. Ffffffuck giving birth. And being pregnant! Granted, the EARLY part? He loved. He glowed. Getting pregnant was AWESOME. But later stages? God awful. Clone tube babies from here on out.

Absolute Devastation in the Tom Fucking Community. Babe no! You can't MEAN IT!

Woah, hey! He never said he'd STOP. "Getting Pregnant" is very, VERY enjoyable. He's just refusing to carry SHIT. Birth control for HIM. Scooping that slurry of "leave it up to Nature" out and storing it. Now... Kon stop being smug and hold your son.

-🐼🐼🐼

😭😭😭 tim getting everyone to come to dinner and they all think it was alfred and are like 'this was a great idea alfred! we should all get together like this more often' only for tim to cough and say well actually i called you all here, i figured you all deserved a heads up since i'm going to be undergoing some serious life changes. everyone's confused and then tim says he's going to have a baby.

immediate panic and some disappointment from bruce because he thinks this is a teen pregnancy and he expected better from tim only for tim to have to yell to interrupt everyone and say there is no 'girl', not yet anyway. he's just announcing that he's GOING to have a baby. they're not yet conceived and now the family is dealing with whiplash of how of course TIM would do something like this now they're sitting their listening to him talk about the ideal gene pool given tim's family has a history of mental issues and he's going into some very detailed things like nurseries and everyone just wants him to slow down because tim is still a kid!!! dick is older than him and even HE doesn't feel ready. so everyone is trying to talk tim out of it while tim insists he's ready, he's been going to a therapist for 11 months trying to deal with his issues so he COULD be ready to be a parent.

which of course baffles them even more because???? dick has been trying to get them all into therapist for years and tim just???? went??? on his own????

bruce is of course the least welcoming of tim's ideas of teen parenthood. because what about highschool, college? at least ONE of his kids has to go to college!

tim however says no, says his GED is more than enough.

bruce tries finding other angles, asking what if he just sets tim up with babysitting gigs? make him see kids aren't that great and tim just huffs and said he already did a bunch of babysitting and volunteering at the children's centers in gotham as part of his adoption application!

which ???? just stressed bruce out even more?! because tim had tried to adopt a baby first? but apparently got rejected because of his age, lack of partner, and lack of job which tim loudly says is unfair because bruce was in his 20s when he took in dick and HE hadn't had a partner or a job!

so the family is protesting, despertly trying to get tim to change his mind,,, then tim gets a womb and suddenly the protests die down VERY quick.

[findafight]

I think the most insufferable part of the “Steve is the worst” refrain is that even when the change is acknowledged, they constantly make out like he’s on thin ice.

But the funniest part has to be that they write this whilst also having pretty much every new main cast member they add to show take a shine to him;

Billy just wants Steve to pay attention to him (and was bitterly disappointed that Steve was just some dude and not the raging asshole that everyone’s told him about)

Max hates teenage boys, but concludes she has found the one good one

Robin enjoys his company despite herself and becomes soul bonded to him

Eddie ends up being straight (I’m sorry) up *enchanted* by Steve, and we have a whole scene of him trying desperately to communicate this to him - of course Nancy wants you, dude! Who wouldn’t?

I know we’ve joked about Joe’s charisma, but canonically Steve’s must be *otherworldly*. Clearly the only reason Nancy didn’t let him fuck that old man was because the writers needed to make things difficult for them.

The show simultaneously trying to remind us Steve used to be a dick but is actually the most charming lad in all the land and is everybody's favourite most specialest boy. Like they try to make us remember Steve being mean but then it's also telling us he's a silly billy driving his bestie to school without questioning it and not knowing she doesn't even know how to drive. How are we supposed to think he's gonna backslide.

Lmaooo billy being disappointed Steve's not an asshole. It's no fun winning for him if it wasn't actually a competition :(

Max: no teenage boys allowed

Steve and Lucas: *exist*

Max: okay I will make an exception because they seem very nice

Dustin just consistently telling everyone he meets Steve is the coolest most badass person alive. Can you imagine the hero worship Suzie has heard?? (Suzie is also a Steve Stan and she hasn't even MET him)

Robin spends one month in close proximity to Steve and she's like well. Guess he's my best friend now!! And she was probably actively trying to not like him! And yet here we are! She liked him before they got tortured and she was probably so ticked off about how she, too, has fallen platonically for the Harrington charm. Not fair. Embarrassing.

Eddie spends less than a week around Steve and immediately joins his little cheer squad with Robin and Dustin. Like, if they wanted us to know that Steve was a dick to people for no reason in highschool Eddie would've been the person to use to demonstrate that, or the tension between who he was and who he is, but they don't! Eddie just admits he made assumptions about Steve without knowing much about him other than his rich parents and big house and popularity with girls, (saying more about himself than Steve) and then immediately jumps on the Steve bandwagon because now he can't understand why anyone who spent any amount of time with Steve wouldn't like him!

Even Nancy wasn't immune to Steve's charms in S4, and she had previously broken up with him messily! But all it took was a little bit of the town in danger and Steve trying to make sure everyone's on the same page while Looking Good for her to be Gazing Lustfully at him. That's why S2 and S3 had them separate for so long. Too long around him and she'd remember that she does find him cute and funny and brave and also hot.

Reasons Nancy stopped Steve from Fucking That Old Man: 1) writers needed them finding out info to be more of a struggle 2) they also probably didn't want a middle aged supposedly professional man sleeping with one of their teenage characters I guess 3) Nancy would have been wild with jealousy about the whole thing and stancy revival would have been much more obvious earlier, much more Nancy driven, and much funnier.

[houseofbreadpakoda]

Saudebaazi

It was 7 on a Monday morning. More than half the city was up, the traffic taking over the mellow atmosphere. Two ladies stood in front of an old house, with one rumbling her pouch trying to find the keys.

"Oho, hurry now will you?" Whispered Sarala.

"Hmm hmm" Damini replied shaking her head, trying to rid her mind of the daze.

Sarala and Damini had spent the night at their friends place, sipped on a little booze and passed out. This had led them to sneak back home this morning, hurrying between rickshaws and buses, avoiding everyone's gaze.

It wasn't easy for them to be out on such adventures. It wasn't easy for two widows. For two 50 year old widows. Especially when they were clad in white from head to toe. They had absently held each other's hands tight while sprinting back home.

The duo had grown up in the same neighborhood. Both being from extremely conservative families, had been married off at very tender ages. Damini was married to Vinayak, a rich bank manager when she was just two, whereas Sarala was married rather sold to an old man Jagadish, by her parents, to clear their debts, at eleven years of age.

Jagadish, lured by the dowry he received began to lament his job, barely turning upto work thrice a week. Spent all the money he had on gambling and alcohol. Within a year of his marriage he was thrown onto the streets. Eventually, lack of money had led to abuse.

It was Diwali, when Damini had rushed to Sarala's house to feed her the sweets she had made when she found her tending to her wounds, broken glass pieces scattered on the floor. She had tiptoed to Sarala, to find a slit on her forearm, dried blood surrounding the wound. The bastard had begun his wrath much before the sun had risen.

"Why can't I have a nice husband...?"

".....I can be your nice husband...." Damini had replied sheepishly.

"Arey, but how-"

"Or maybe I could be your nice wife?"

"......that would be nice." Sarala had said smiling.

Damini's Husband was no better. He would be out for days or sometimes weeks. And when he'd return, so would the abuse. He earned enough to buy ten white elephants, but never bothered to give Damini a penny. When he decided to eat at home, he'd buy the groceries himself, but when he was away Damini would have to make do with the little food Sarala managed to sneak to her everyday.

Both the girls, barely teenagers, spent most of their time together. They would tie gajras for each other, exchange anklets, braid each other's hair and apply henna on each other's hands and feet.

Jagadeesh's drinking eventually backfired, the man could barely pass a minute without breaking into a coughing fit. All Sarala had to do was sit back and watch him swallow the poison everyday, and within a few months, hopefully, he'd be gone.

One very fine day, when Vinayak returned home with a chicken in hand, Damini had accidentally dropped a chicken bone in the broth which he managed to choke on, while Damini had coincidentally left to fetch water from the well. Poor lad, choked on his food, struggled to breath and died.

Sarala and Damini were now widows, at the age of just seventeen. It was good riddance.

After all they had good company ;)

.

.

.

This was supposed to come out months ago, but I was dumb fuck and forgot about it so here it is. My first non-fanfic series.

Tagging: @janaknandini-singh999 @talesinmyhead040122 @tenderhood @vijayasena @yehsahihai and whoever else wants to be tagged really

[everywishway]

Headcanons for Junior Year

Cassandra still has Kalina as a familiar. I have two ideas for this

Number one is Kalina was hurting the whole time due to being a literal plague and she was also under the influence of the Nightmare King's power so she's better now. Still standoffish and a trickster but in more of a "tired, goth older sister" way

Number two is that she's a grouchy house cat and is stuck in this tiny body that has a love/hate relationship with the Bad Kids (especially Riz). Like one day she's wrapped around his neck till she claws his nose and runs off. She can't talk either so all that pent-up anger is in a tiny body

I just want more Riz and Kalina pls! They were so good together SY

Garthy Obrien and Aguefort have a nice, long "chat" behind closed doors… It ends up with the both of them deciding how they are going to Co-parent Ayda but Aguefort does end up with a scar in his abdomen.

Ayda substitute teaches a Magical Theory class Adaine and Fig have to take when the teacher leaves for maternity. Hijinx ensue.

Fabian and Aelwyn break up or have already broken up by the time JY starts (i love how most of the fandom doesn't like these two together, lol)

Kristen and Tracker go on break while Tracker is away and Kristen is suffering in silence while Tracker is partying and having a lot of fun (same vibes as Priya and Pete)

All of Fig's Dads (Jawbone, Gilear, and Gorthalax) go get drinks every other month, one-month Sandra-Lynn and Garthy come and drink them all under the table (Sandra-Lynn was banned after that. Garthy still occasionally comes around)

When those nights happen all of the Bad Kids have a giant sleepover and completely take over the first floor of Mordred Manor (Jawbone proceeding to play hopscotch around them to not wake up his spare children)

Nobody actually addresses the Night Yorb during Junior Year and if somebody does Brennan goes in his true New York accent "what Night Yorb?????"

Fabian and Zelda go to both dance classes and kickboxing together, becoming friends around the winter of Sophmore Year

Fabian and Sam do not get along well. Mostly due to the fact, they are both dramatic rich bitches who are fighting over Zelda but also over the fact Sam is mean to Gorgug and Fabian goes "only I am allowed to be a bitch with my friends? Fuck off, Nightingale."

Antiope and Riz shared some sort of stealth elective class and accidentally became good friends? Like, they both watch their gangs of idiots tiredly and corral them up and take them to get ice cream.

On the other hand, Kristen kinda dreads her religious studies course due to Ostentasia being loud and snarky but also kinda appreciates it? Like, you know those class clowns that get on your nerves but they state the obvious when everyone is done with the teacher's shit? Yeah, that's their relationship

She does chill with Yelle tho, like they both smoke weed then go to pet stores and animal shelters and play with animals until they pass out on the floor.

Penny and Adaine are both nerds and Penny is Adaine's tutor when it comes to the history of spells, who made them and why (because Adaine is a practical caster <3)

I have way too many ideas, some of them are on the bingo board :)

[brehaaorgana]

i'm fascinated by the "Sephora kids" gen alpha phenomenon going on.

"kids don't have places to go anymore! stop hating kids!!!" claire's still exists?? boxed lunch??? hot topic which is like 80% kids stuff and disney anyways. game stores??? bookstores with the game/toy sections??? girl why are these children not reading manga or eating cookies in the food court or looking at CLOTHES?

i never would've been allowed to just run around alone in a mall if i was 9-10. that's insane. then i also would NEVER have gotten away with destroying shit, being rude to employees, rude to other customers??? this is a failing of PARENTS.

also like...... uh. when i was a teenager who was allowed to run around the mall, i couldn't even get away with hanging out with my friends in the massive glass elevator and being funny with adults (we greeted people like we were flight attendants with smiles, and pushed the button for the floor we weren't on) WITHOUT mall security coming after 20 minutes and threatening to kick us out lol. how was i almost kicked out of the mall for just being nice to people and giggling with friends on an elevator while these children are making "potions" and not getting tossed out?

also these kids buying like, a bunch of shit on a card -- i remember that i could barely use my "allowance card" from USAA when I first got it bc people kept assuming i was too young to have a real debit card. if they have mom or dad's credit card, ask for their id. lmao just start asking for their ID!!! if their parents aren't house training them that doesn't mean they can't learn.

they're 9 and buying retinol???? actives??? who are these little rich clueless children??? do they really exist? but i saw a lot of viral "christmas lists" go around this year with designer and luxury shit and i'm like...???

[hlficlibrary]

HL FIC LIBRARY ✤ AUTHOR REC

AO3: jaerie

Tumblr: @jaerie

STATS:

✤ Number of fics: 162

✤ Posting Since: 2014

TOP 5 FICS:

1️⃣ come on over, we've got something to share (E, 12k)

Even as an unbonded omega with a four year old, Harry had everything he needed. His beautiful son, a nice apartment, money to pay the bills -- oh, and an alpha next door always willing to knot his brains out.

2️⃣ Where Do We Go Now (E, 10k)

Louis goes off to college ready to start a fresh life away from the oppressive alphas of his pack. The odds aren't in his favour when his new dorm mate turns out to be an alpha. Louis hates alphas.

3️⃣ Just Jump (E, 9k)

Finally, after years of suffering alone, the insurance plan at Harry's new job covered omega heat services. As a grown omega adult, it finally felt like the right time to try it out. And, since taking an entire week of heat leave would really put him behind at work, using a service to shorten it seemed like a responsible decision. At least that’s how he rationalized it. He was nervous about his decision but it was too late. The doorbell rang.

“Hi!” The alpha said again and Harry took the hand he offered and shook it firmly. “I’m Louis from Omega Services. It’s nice to meet you.”

4️⃣ I Think You're Already Home (E, 38k)

Seeing Louis Tomlinson today, it would be hard to guess that he was ever once a member of the world's most famous boyband. These days he doesn't even the leave his own house. The truth is he can't leave his own house. He can't even remember the last time just standing at an open door didn't send him into a debilitating panic attack. But, against his friend's advice, Louis is ready to add meaning to his life again. He's ready to start a family. So what if he doesn't have an omega? There are plenty of surrogacy services just waiting to help the rich and famous become parents. He just has to find the right one for the job.

5️⃣ Woke Up Feeling Knotty (E, 7k)

Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof. When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them. Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

HIDDEN GEM:

💎 Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember (E, 53k)

Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924.

He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together.

H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world?

A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Do Draco Fans Really Love Draco?

I read a Quora post last year when I was still new to HP where the user did an AO3 fic analysis and pointed to the number of fanfics to prove how much Draco's fans love him and how overrated he is.

But I think all these fanfics prove how misunderstood Draco is as a character. You see all these fics where:

his parents are abusive

he was an angel all along and it's his parents' fault why he's mean

he becomes all hot and bothered like a fanboy for Harry as soon as Harry shows him some sort of decency

Draco is basically Ron but rich and blonde

he is basically male Ginny but rich and blonde

he simps for Hermione and thinks she is the most beautiful girl in the school (as if!)

his redemption fics have all his mean moments transplanted on another character (eg. Blaise, Theo, Vincent, Gregory or some random male OC) to make him look better

he acts all girly

he's a loner and no one understands him

he's self-conscious or has low self-esteem

he takes all the blame for his bad relationship with the trio like the golden trio were saints who never hurt him too and basically kisses their butts to repent

he's a mini Voldemort in training

he's a manwhore

befriending the golden trio is the only way for him to have a better life

befriending/dating someone in the golden trio is part of his redemption arc

he and Hermione are bestie study buddies

he and Harry use the sectumsempra scars as a romantic/sexual bonding moment

he renounces his pureblood supremacy beliefs faster than a Thanos snap

Astoria is the only reason he changed like he was not traumatized by an awful war

he can't fight or he's weak/pathetic etc...

Draco is not a poor misunderstood, abused baby or a demon child, baby Hitler. He's a normal boy who grew up with bigoted views. He has a loving family. He likes making impressions and being a class clown. He calls out Harry's show-off behaviour when no one else will. He tells things as it is when he calls out Hagrid for being an atrocious teacher and Hogwarts being a dumpster fire school. He likes girls and goes on to have a nice family. He repeatedly warns the golden trio about the approaching DEs and tells them to leave the area while being a complete jerk and laughing at the possibility of Hermione being attacked at the same time. He's not a wimp and can land blows in fights. He can be overly dramatic. He can be stoic in the face of humiliation/abuse. He's creative and artistic. He's a spoiled heir of a rich family who's confident and knows his worth. He's classist. He bit off more than he could chew when he became a DE. He has been group assaulted multiple times by his peers, more than what his rude behaviour deserved. He holds grudges against people who offend him. He seems to have good chemistry with his house. The golden trio accuse him of crimes we never see evidence of while being hypocrites and doing the same behaviour themselves (eg. Hermione accusing Draco of bullying first years as a prefect then she and Ron proceed to bully first years multiple times as prefects). He never truly shined because his author hated him.

I just want Draco content where he is portrayed fairly. Interesting fics without Drarry would be great too. Lord knows Drarry and Dramione are major culprits in this warping of poor Draco's character. Fanon Draco can be fun too but so many times it just feels like an OC with Draco's face on it.

I wish Draco could have more of the same kind of great self-actualization fics that Severus Snape has where he is allowed to be his best self without gay romance involved or where the romance is a background thing or where the golden trio are not involved. Just him vibing with other Slytherins and forgetting the golden trio even exists. I have enjoyed many amazing Draco fics but now that I have come to understand book!Draco more, a lot of them make me feel kind of unsatisfied and hollow now.