#like have you heard her. I couldn't blame him frankly

[lostlavenderer]

I love Sam as our protag and I appreciate Lena as our new ominous office manager but sorry neither of them stand a chance. that entire office is literally just 'Alice Dyer and people who are irrevocably undeniably intensely in love with Alice Dyer' with not even a single exception

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthdaymonth Shana! Hope you have awesome birthday 🎂🥳 Would love some Psych, either Lassie (Shassie) centred or a contiuation of the abduction one!

a continuation of 1 2 3

He lost his son five years ago.

Henry tries support groups at Karen's urging, the warning about what's likely to happen to him if he doesn't get the drinking under control unspoken but clear. He wonders if Fenich said something to her and tries not to feel too resentful about it. The groups don't do shit, just push him into a rage that reminds him too much of his grandfather. He cuts back on the drinking enough that no one can smell it on him anymore and that appears to be enough, thank god.

His job is all that he has left. And he still would have lost that if it weren't for Gus.

It was only a few months after Shawn went missing. Maddy was off on some work trip, saying the break would be good for them. Henry had mostly resigned himself to the divorce. He'd drank too much that night like he always did and when the doorbell had pierced through his pounding head he'd groaned and rolled off the couch. He stumbled to his feet and lurched over to the door, yanking it open in a desperation to make the doorbell stop. He looks down with bleary eyes and sees Gus standing in front of him, wide eyed. "You here for Shawn?" he yawns, already nudging the door open out of habit before he remembers.

Shawn's gone.

Gus swallows then nods. He'd stopped talking. The Gusters have already gone through two therapists. His sister insists he still talks to her, but it's possible she's just covering for him.

"What do you mean?" he asks, expecting Gus to take out the pen and notebook he's always carrying around with him. He needs to call his parents since they definitely don't know he's here. Ever since Shawn went missing, the Gusters haven't let Gus out of their sight. Henry can't blame them.

Except Gus swallows and says, "I overheard my parents talking. They say you're not doing good. I mean, well. Not doing well."

Henry looks down at him in shock. The last time he heard Gus's voice was when he'd told him they were calling off the search for Shawn, that they couldn't find him and he wasn't coming back. Gus had sobbed in his arms then, hit his chest, begged and yelled and been more out of sorts than any of them had ever seen him.

"Shawn loved you," he says and Henry doesn't even flinch at the past tense. "He was really proud of you and he'd want you to be okay."

If he had anything like pride left, he'd probably feel something about the hot tears on his cheeks. "He loved you too, Gus. He'd want you to be okay too."

Gus swallows and holds out his hand. "I'll try if you will."

"Alright," he says, because what the hell else is he supposed to say to that, to his son's best friend who has snuck away from his parents and broken his silence and is looking up at him with such earnest pleading. He shakes his hand. "Deal."

The Gusters are in hysterics when he gets them on the phone. But Gus starts talking again after that and Henry drinks a little less and it doesn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would.

Gus is a senior this year. Shawn would be too if he was alive.

The both of them have good days and bad ones.

"Henry!" He looks up. "Martha wants you in the interrogation room. She's got her anonymous tipper on the line."

He bites back a sigh. Martha's a good officer. She's also a recent transfer and is convinced that some guy who calls in with the occasional tip is the same one who used to call into her precinct in Boston and she's woven a whole conspiracy theory around it. She's been trying to get him interested for weeks, but frankly the whole thing sounds insane.

Karen nudges him in the side. "Come on, it'll at least get her off your back."

Or encourage her. "Fine."

They head down, peeking around the door. Martha's face lights up and she waves him and Karen in eagerly. He's just shut the door behind him when she puts down the receiver and switches it to speaker. "Can you repeat what you told me?"

"Again?" huffs an aggrieved, young male voice. "Aren't you supposed to be taking notes or something?"

Henry can't feel his knees.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but you if you wouldn't mind," Martha insists.

"Fine. You're wasting your time going after the family in the Robertson case, their performative grief is weird, I'll give you that, but they're just attention seekers. You need to talk to the maid, the jumpy one that's in the background of the newsclips. Look under her nails."

It's different, older, more mature, slower.

He stumbles over to the table, knocking over a pencil cup as he grabs a pen with a shaking hand. He writes over Martha's notes, who's looking at him like he's lost his mind, but he's never cared about anything less.

"How many hats?" she reads aloud dubiously.

"What's that going to help?" he asks, like always, intonation and whining just the same.

"Uh," Martha looks at him but has to hold onto the edge of the table to keep from passing out. "You never know what will help. How many hats are in the clip that you first noticed her nails?"

There's a moment of silence, then faint humming, and Henry can see Shawn closing his eyes and lifting his hand to his head like he always did when he was trying to remember something. "Red baseball cap, weird little outdated doilie looking thing on the maid, and the Mom had a black veil. Which isn't technically a hat," he adds, almost as soon as Henry thinks it. "But it she only wore it in two clips, it should narrow it down. Or you could stop wasting time and just call her in for questioning. You should take better notes."

The dial tone is a shock, snapping him out of it. "No! Shawn? Shawn!"

Martha is new, she doesn't know, he's sure someone told her about his dead son but probably not his name. Karen puts a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Henry, don't do this-"

"It was him," he insists. "I have to - I've got," he stops, runs a hand over his face, and says to Martha, "Get me everything you have on this. Everything."

"Okay?" she says, bewildered, and Karen is shaking her head and Henry doesn't waste time convincing her.

He makes it out to the car before he breaks, trying to control his breathing as he takes out his phone with shaking hands and dials a number that he only calls on Christmas and Shawn's birthday.

"Henry?" Maddy greets, voice understandably concerned. He hasn't talked to her sober in years. "What's wrong?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a sob. It's as much of a surprise to him as it is to her. He raises a hand to his face and finds that he's crying.

"Oh god," she whispers and he hears her voice break. "Is this about - it's about Shawn, isn't it? Did you find - was he," she takes a deep, steadying breath. "Tell me it was quick, Henry, please."

He forces out, "You were right."

There's silence on the other end.

"I'm sorry," he says, because he should have listened to her, he should have looked harder, he doesn't know how this happened or what exactly is going on. "I'm so sorry, Mads, you were right."

She swallows. "Henry. Are you saying-"

"He's alive," he says, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "Our son's alive."

[1800bitchcraft]

What if Ford and reader are having their first time together or about to when reader drops the bombshell that they're a virgin because they never felt a connection with anyone like that until him? I feel that might do something to him with his possessiveness and maybe even a slight ego boost despite the lick of shame and uncertainty at being the one to take their virginity, but it ends up turning him on way more than he expected? 😳

A/N: shut UP I LOVE THIS !!!!! Literally shrieked when I read it, my dog thought I was trying to play with her🤣 anyways, darling, I couldn't NOT write something for this it was too delicious! This ran away from me a lil bit and turned into a full blown fic but I hope you like it!

CW: fingering, first times, virginity kink, oral (F!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cumming inside, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, i think that's it??

!!! MDNI OR I WILL SCREAM !!!

Smut under the cut

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tick.

You glanced at the clock on your wall, nervously smoothing down your skirt. 6:52 PM. The clock seemed to glare back at you, or was that just your own reflection staring back at you from the glass? You bounced your knee, nerves kicking up a storm in your belly. Your eyes darted to the coffee table in front of you. The still full glass of wine you'd poured in the hopes it would calm your nerves.

It didn't.

You took a drink.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

You weren't nervous for any bad reason, per se. In fact, one could even say you were nervous for a very good reason, depending on your use of the word 'good.'" Tonight was your fifth date with your new beau, Ford Pines. He was something of an enigma to you, having heard the stories about him from when he'd first moved to town. But, hearing he was something of a recluse, you'd gone on thinking your curiosity would remain unsatiated. Then he'd wandered into your book shop late one afternoon and, well. The rest was history.

Really, he was perfect. Though, he would argue that fact with a frankly precious blush on his handsome face, he really was. He was everything you'd ever wanted in a boyfriend. He was kind, considerate, gentle. He listened to everything you had to say, every random bit of gossip or interest of yours, no matter how fleeting, he soaked in with rapt attention. And it certainly didn't hurt that he was so handsome.

Perfectly sculpted cheekbones and those warm brown eyes that never failed to make you melt. A strong jaw and fluffy grey curls streaked with silver that you loved to play with. He had a stockier build than what you were used to back home, but you couldn't say you didn't like it. Really, you probably liked it a little too much. It was... challenging, to say the least, to keep yourself from climbing the poor man like a tree. The only thing that really kept you from it were your own nerves, and the reason for your nerves tonight.

You had yet to tell him this, but, well, you were a virgin. It wasn't for any special reason like most people assumed. You weren't saving yourself for marriage and you weren't doing it for religious reasons. Though, you couldn't blame people for assuming that since you were a whole adult and could count on one hand the amount of sexual experiences you had in your life.

No, really, it was just the simple fact that you hadn't found anyone you liked that much. You'd tried to explain it to a previous boyfriend. That you didn't, couldn't, feel attracted to someone in that way until you'd developed feelings for them. But that had just resulted in a lot of confusion and hurt feelings, so you'd resigned yourself to the possibility that maybe you'd just be alone.

Of course, then Ford had to enter your life. It was cliche, you knew it, but he was just so patient and understanding. You loved how curious and genuinely in awe he still was of the world. And, eventually, over the course of your dates and the long, long hours spent together between them, you found yourself falling for the awkward, sweet nerd that had wandered into your shop.

So, you'd taken the liberty of preparing your date for the night. Ford always said he wanted to try your cooking, and you thought what better way to have this conversation than over a home cooked meal? And, who knew? Maybe you might finally take things to that level, instead of just making out on the couch and leaving frustrated and wanting more.

Just then, a knock on your door sounded.

"Coming!" You called out. You set your glass back down, now empty, and rushed to the door. When you opened it, there was your Stanford, standing on your porch as handsome as ever. He'd opted for a soft brown button up under an argyle patterned sweater vest in different complimenting shades of green. His slacks and shoes were brown to match and you blushed when you remembered the last time you'd seen him wear that sweater.

"You look..." Ford paused, seemingly at a loss for words as he drank in your form. It wasn't anything special, or so you would claim, but you looked like the brightest of jewels in Ford's eyes. "Incredible. As always." He finished with a soft smile, eyes coming back up to yours and you broke his gaze first, shy under the intensity of his attention but you loved it all the same.

"Oh stop," you waved him off, certain your cheeks were scarlet by now. Ford chuckled and you ushered him in. "You're just in time! I just finished making dinner," Ford smiled over his shoulder at you, turning to face you after hanging up his jacket in your coat closet.

"Oh? I'm excited to see what you've made," he reached out, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you close. You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling safe and secure all wrapped up in his strong arms.

"Mmm well, it's a surprise," you murmured, voice lowered as he leaned in to press his forehead to yours. He hummed in acknowledgment but said nothing else, seemingly content to hold you and stare into your eyes. "A surprise that we will have to move to the kitchen for, if you want to see it," you smiled then, voice taking on a teasing edge. Ford sighed dramatically, straightening back up, though there was a simmering heat in his eyes that made you shiver.

"Well?" He asked, smirking down at you. "Lead the way." You blushed again, pulling away from him but keeping a hold of his hand as you lead him into the kitchen. You smiled when you felt his fingers interlace with yours.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

"You really do look incredible."

Ford was trying, desperately, to look at your face. To pay attention to the words you were saying, but after he'd fallen silent for just a little too long once more, you'd called his name. A soft, concerned look on your face as he blinked then looked back at you. A blush colored his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I just- I'm getting distracted I guess," he huffed a laugh and you smiled. You set your wine glass back down on the coffee table, scooting closer to him just so you could drape your arm over the back of the couch, close enough to trail your fingers across his shoulder. Ford suppressed a shudder and took another long swallow of his wine before he set it down next to yours. He turned to face you, resolutely not looking at where your skirt had ridden up to flash a glimpse of your soft thighs.

"Distracted, hm?" You mused and Ford smiled, sheepish, when he caught the mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Yes." He huffed. "You distract me constantly, even when you're not there." His admission made your breath hitch, having not expected that. Your heart started to pound and Ford smirked. He leaned in closer, just to see the way your eyes dilated when he dropped his hand to rest on your knee, warm and comforting. Innocent, but with the potential for more.

"Oh?" You asked, breathless. "How do I do that?" Ford inhaled sharply, catching a deep lungful of your sweet, lightly spiced, perfume. It was intoxicating.

"I think of you an... alarming amount of the time," he mumbled and you giggled. Frankly, you were flattered by this new knowledge. But, of course, he didn't stop there. "I think about what you're doing, what your plans are for the day. I think about what you might've put on that morning as you got ready, sometimes I even wonder if it's that dress you wore on our first date. The one that drives me crazy." His voice was lowered, like this was a secret only you could know. You shivered, spellbound by this perfect man telling you how much and how often he wanted to.

"Yknow, I think about you too," you murmured softly. Ford hummed softly, a questioning lilt to it. He leaned in and you tensed slightly, awaiting a kiss that he planted on your cheek, instead. Then another, then another, then another. Trailing down to your jaw as his hand slowly slid up your thigh, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingers.

"And?" He drawled the word teasingly. You lifted your hands to press against his chest, grounding yourself. Suddenly you were painfully aware of how close he was, but you couldn't find it in you to stop him. You wanted, no, needed more. "What do you think about me, honey?" The pet name made you shiver and your thighs squeezed together on instinct. A groan rumbled in Ford's chest and you felt it more than heard it, vibrating beneath your fingertips.

"I- I think about your hands," you said finally. You felt breathless, heart pounding so hard you were dizzy, as his lips gently grazed your neck. It was a light, barely there touch but it felt like fire. He pressed a kiss to your skin then; firm and sudden and you thought you felt the barest flicker of his tongue. His hand squeezed your thigh, encouraging you.

"I think of how they feel when you touch me, how... easy you make it for me to feel desperate when you've hardly done anything." The words were leaving you in a rush, you couldn't stop them now. And, if the way Ford was gripping your thigh as his kisses began to linger longer and longer was anything to go by, he didn't want you to stop. "I think about your lips, how much I love kissing you. Or the way you grab my hips and squeeze them when you're overwhelmed."

Whatever else you were going to say was lost as Ford surged forwards suddenly, claiming your lips in a kiss. You melted into him, one hand sliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. A light pressure kept him close as you traded kisses that slowly grew more heated the longer they went on. It was a struggle to remember your original plan, especially when Ford was nipping lightly at your lower lip, soothing the sting with the tip of his tongue.

"Wait- wait, Ford h-hang on," you panted softly. Dimly, you wondered how you'd made it to this position, finding yourself sitting halfway in his lap. Stopping suddenly, Ford pulled away enough to look at you, pleased with the dazed and desirous look on your face.

"What? Is everything okay?" He murmured, brow creased with concern. You smiled, heart fluttering with fondness.

"No- I mean, yes, everything is fine I just- i wanted to talk to you about something before we get..." You paused. "...carried away." You finished with a blush, eyes darting to some distant corner. Ford hummed, as smile playing over his lips. You yelped as he suddenly gripped your hips, pulling you towards him until you sat fully in his lap, straddling him. He grinned up at you, unashamed in the slightest.

"Well, go on then. I'm all ears," he murmured and you rolled your eyes fondly. You smoothed your fingers over his sweater vest, fingers tracing idly patterns as you tried to get the courage to speak.

"Well, um," you cleared your throat, nerves rioting in your belly. "We- we've been seeing each other for awhile now and I... want more with you," you spoke softly, placing emphasis on your words in the hopes he'd pick up on the underlying meaning. You weren't disappointed when you heard his sharp intake of breath, hands squeezing your hips where they still rested.

"And?" He said, voice soft and gentle, realizing his prompt was necessary. You swallowed, then took a deep breath. You can do this, like ripping off a bandaid.

"Well, I just. I thought it would be best for you to know beforehand that I'm not the most... experienced." That was an understatement.

"Darling," Ford's voice was soft and fond. His hands came up to rest gently over yours on his chest, squeezing your fingers. Your gaze darted back to his, and you were lost in the intensity of them. "Are you trying to tell me you're a virgin?" Your blush darkened. You bit your lip, and his eyes tracked the movement greedily. It was taking everything in him to stay composed, calm for your sake, as he waited for your answer.

You nodded after a moment, not trusting your voice. Ford inhaled sharply, steadying himself against the sudden onslaught of possessiveness that rushed through him. Never, in his life, would he have thought he'd end up being the more experienced one in a relationship. Add that to the intoxicating thought that though you were, arguably, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen he'd be the first one to get to have you like this, and he nearly felt drunk on the feelings churning through him. He swallowed, realizing he needed to say something, anything.

"You've really- I mean, never?" He asked and if you heard the strain in his voice, you didn't comment.

"No, not really, I just." You shrugged one shoulder, still avoiding his gaze. "I don't know, I guess I've just been waiting for the right person. I've never... liked anyone, as much as I like you." You admitted the last part in a soft, shy voice and Ford felt his heart flutter even as his cock twitched in his pants. Adorable.

"Well," he started slowly. "I hope you know I would never ask or expect you to do anything you're not comfortable with; if you don't want to do anything now, we don't have to. We can wait as long as you'd like, okay?" He paused, waiting for you to acknowledge him. When you nodded, gaze flitting to his shyly, he smiled.

"And... what if I am ready?" You asked softly and Ford couldn't contain the soft groan that left him. His arms moved to wrap loosely around your waist, gently holding you to him as his forehead pressed to yours.

"Darling, don't." He inhaled sharply, so close his lips brushed against yours every time he spoke. "Not if you're not certain, please."

A soft, needy sound bubbled up inside you. You wiggled a little in his lap and Ford choked when he felt you shift against his cock, already half hard in his slacks.

"But I am," you implored. "I'm so sure, Ford, please. I just- I wanna feel you, all of you." And how could he deny you now? When you looked at him so sweetly, need shining in your pretty eyes. With a broken groan he surged forward, kissing you suddenly and deeply. Your hands delved into the short curls at the base of his neck, nails scratching lightly over his skin.

Time passed by in a blur. A flurry of kisses and touches, Ford's hands gripping and squeezing and feeling every inch of you he could reach. You were lost in him. In the intensity of his touches, the pleasure that burned through you and set you on fire. You only realized how far gone you were when you blinked and suddenly found yourself in your room, back pressed to your mattress as Ford hovered over you. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his vest, his shirt unbuttoned down to just below his broad chest. You had lost your top all together, now only clad in your skirt and underwear.

"God, look at you," Ford breathed the words softly, reverently. He sat back on his heels, letting his greedy gaze drink in every inch of you. His hand trailed down the front of your body, fingertips starting at the hollow of your throat and skimming down, down, down to your pudgy belly. You felt shy under his scrutiny, and instinctively started to move your arms to cover yourself, but Ford was faster.

"Uh-uh, none of that, pretty girl," he murmured, catching both wrists in one hand easily and pinning them above your head. Your belly fluttered with heat at the display and you whimpered, unable to hide the noise. Ford swallowed thickly, his cock throbbing where it was trapped behind his zipper.

"You're so... responsive," he murmured softly. He leaned down, caging you in with his body over yours, propped up on his forearms on either side of your head. You kept your hands where they were, despite desperately wanting to touch him. You were curious to see what he'd do now and he certainly didn't disappoint. You arched upwards with a sharp inhale when you felt one big, warm palm skin down across your side until he could cup your breast. Squeezing and feeling the plush fat in his fingers.

Heat pulsed through you, a whimpery mewl of his name leaving your lips. "Thaaats it, jus' relax n'let me take care of you," his voice was a low, soothing murmur against your skin, drunk on your scent and your responses. His hands left you, grabbing your hips to tug you forwards until your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. You moaned when this brought your aching cunt pressed tightly against the throbbing bulge in his slacks, the pressure a welcome sensation. Ford's nimble fingers skimmed back upwards, taking advantage of the slight arch in your back to unclip your bra and toss it. Your breasts now free, you both moaned as his bare skin made contact, thumbs drawing light circles over your perked nipples.

"Oh" a soft, breathy exhale left you as you felt the pads of his thumbs, roughened with callouses, rub over your perked and sensitive nipples. "Nngh F-Ford-" your eyes fluttered, panting softly. You slid your fingers into his hair as he lowered himself, kissing and biting along your breasts.

"Pretty- so, so pretty like this," he murmured against your skin. He let the fingers of his left hand tweak and tease at your left nipple, hot mouth moving over to take your right between his lips. Your thighs twitched where they were wrapped around his waist, shifting and squeezing as the pleasure sparked along your nerves.

"Nnngh Ford- F-Ford, oh fuck-" your voice cut off with a whiny gasp. Ford's groan reverberated into you as your thighs around his waist squeezed and pulled, heels digging into his lower back to push him closer until your rolling hips found his clothed cock to grind against. "Oh, oh yes, fuck-" you gasped the words, high and pitchy as your poor, neglected pussy throbbed at the contact. Ford swore he could feel the heat of you bleeding through your clothes. The slide of your panty-clad pussy too smooth for you to be anything over than soaked.

"Good girl," the words sent pleasure arcing through you, your head tossed back against your sheets as your eyes fluttered. "Oh honey," he cooed softly. His voice was tight with restraint, the way you rubbed your cunt against him slowly picking at his sanity. "Y'like that? Hm? Fuck, that's it. Just like that, sweetheart. Use me, make yourself feel good." He was mesmerized. Spellbound by the sight of your as you grasped at the sheets beneath you, back arching as your hips shifted and rolled. He could feel you, wet and desperate, soaking the front of his slacks. Marking him.

"Ford, f-ford-" you whined, opening your eyes to look at him. Your gaze was lidded and hazy, clouded with desire. A pout marred your spit-glossed lips and Ford twitched it his boxers, a thick ooze of precum dripping from his tip to stain his boxers.

"Shh, what is it? Hm?" He murmured, cooed at you, and the tone of his voice made your belly flutter. His hands abandoned their work at your breasts, moving to grip your hips. He steadied you before leaning forward, rocking his hips into your cunt. Your heels dug into his back, hands coming up to grab at his arms, tugging insistently until he was pressed flush against you.

He leaned in, smothering your moans in a kiss. His hips jerked into yours, messy and uncoordinated, when your hands slid to his chest. Scratching your nails along his skin, eliciting shudders and moans, you unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way. Pushed it off his shoulders like it had personally offended you.

"Ford," you panted softly, breaking the kiss. "Ford it's- s'not enough, I- I want more, please," your brow knitted together, an adorable little frown marring your features. Ford. His forehead fell against your shoulder with a groan, his breath puffing over your skin in soft pants. He kissed at your collarbone, nipping gently and leaving blooming marks in his wake.

"Yeah?" He said finally, voice low and rough. He kissed his way down your body, kneeling between your spread legs. "What d'you want?" He murmured, smirking as he kissed a trail of fire from your knee to your inner thigh.

"Don't--Oh fuck--don't tease," you said, petulant even as your hips wiggled. Whatever smart ass remark Ford had ready was lost in a choked off moan as he shoved your skirt up. Your pretty panties were absolutely drenched. Soaked so thoroughly that the pale pink fabric was dark.

"Oh sweetheart," he said, unable to keep the desire from his voice as his hands gripped your thighs, keeping you spread for him. He swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of the pool of saliva threatening to spill from his mouth. "You're so- you're so wet," he muttered, voice awed. One of his hands left your thigh so he could stroke a thumb over your covered slit. He moaned to feel your sopping heat, even through the sodden fabric.

"Ah, ah- please, please Foooorrrd--" you whined, hips jerking into the barely there pressure of his thumb. "You- you can't just t-tease me, I need you." You sniffled, tears suddenly filling and threatening to spill from your glossy eyes as the bubbling heat and pressure in your belly threatened to boil over. Your words did nothing to quell the harsh, possessiveness that had lashed itself in a tight band around Ford's chest.

"God, yeah, you do don't you?" He murmured. You could've cried with relief when his thumbs finally hooked into the band of your panties, dragging them down your pretty legs slowly. His cock throbbed, sticky and wet in his boxers as he watched the fabric peel away from your puffy pussymound. His mouth dropped open, another rush of drool pooling as sticky, pearlescent strings of slick made their appearance. Desperately clinging to your ruined panties.

"Fuck, honey, she's- she's just cryin' for it, huh?" You hardly recognized his voice as his. It was thick, gravelly with need, and laced with the remnants of an accent thought long gone, making his words sound harsher, dirtier. "Think you've deprived her too long, starshine. Look how needy she is," you barely registered he wasn't talking about you, but rather your pussy, before the thought disappeared. Lost in the feeling of thick, calloused fingers sliding through your slick, velvety folds. Spreading you, stroking the tips of his two fingers around the edges of your hole, just to feel the way you clenched. Tried to suck his fingers in desperately. His thumb trailed up slowly, drawing lazy circles over just the peak of your swollen little nub.

Your hips twitched forwards, wanting desperately to grind into the touches Ford was teasing you with but he was determined to get you to say what you wanted. "C'mon, wanna hear your voice," he coaxed you, a pussy drunk little smile on his mouth already.

"Please Ford," you said finally. "Please touch me, want your fingers."

"Silly, you already have my fingers," he teased, hiding his smirk. He dipped his fingers just barely into your twitching hole, gratified when you whimpered. "Try again, sweetheart."

"Want- want them in me, Ford, please," you whined at him, voice trembling. Ford swore, a harsh and muttered fuck leaving his lips.

"Put your hands in my hair- that's it, good girl," his praise made you flush. Another pulse of desire making your pussy ache. Ford swallowed thickly, breath hitching where your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging slightly. "You pull me away if it's too much, okay pretty girl? Otherwise, I'm not stopping." The wolfish grin on his lips seemed almost out of place if his eyes weren't glossy with lust. You were about to question him when he suddenly dived in, licking a stripe up your dripping cunt with the flat of his tongue, moaning like a whole when your taste coated the muscle. His fingers started to push and press, stretching the walls of your pretty pussy. He lapped at your clit, circling the nub with the tip of his tongue then licking it with the flat of his tongue. The pleasure distracted you from the pressure and slight pain of his fingers until he curled them, fingertips pressing into a soft, spongey spot that had you seeing stars.

"Fuck, Stanford!" Your back bowed, fingers curled tight in his hair and making him moan into your pussy. His full name on your lips was almost too much, cock pulsing and leaking a steady stream if precum. He knew the inside of his boxers had to be a sticky mess by now but couldn't be bothered to care. Not when your pussy was fluttering around his fingers, your hands in his hair tugging hard enough to make him moan.

"C'mon, cum for me. I can feel you squeezing my fingers, you're so close aren't you, baby? Such a good girl f'me, so fucking pretty like this and all mine, never gonna let anyone else see you this way, " his words were possessive and hot, spoken in between licks and sucks to your aching clit, but you loved it. They pushed you just that little bit closer and Ford could tell by the way you whimpered his name, your hips rolling down to meet his thrusting fingers. "You like it when I talk to you, honey? Like knowing how fucking turned on I am at the sight of your? Fuck you're a vision, starshine. So, so beautiful. Love that you let me have you like this, love that you're mine."

"Yours! Fuck, m'all yours Ford- please please please m'so- so close, f-fuck!" Hearing it from your lips made him throb. He had to sneak his free hand down to palm at his cock, desperate not to cum yet.

"Thaaaats it, c'mon sweetheart, cum on my fingers." His low, rumbling voice desperate and needy is what pitched you over the edge. Your back bowed, hips rolling, and once Ford was sure you were in the thick of it he replaced his fingers with his tongue. Drinking you down as if you were ambrosia, moaning into your pussy, hands gripping your hips to help you ride out your release on his face. When the waves of pleasure slowed to a gentle ebb and flow you pulled him back up. Hauling him onto the bed, hovering over you just so you could kiss him. You didn't care that you could taste yourself on his mouth, and Ford let out a slutty moan when your legs wrapped around his waist. Pulling him into you until the bulge in his slacks was pressed snugly against your sopping pussy.

"Honey- honey, wait- lemme just-- unhand me, woman, for the love of-" you felt him smile against your lips, now unable to keep kissing him because you both were smiling. Giggling like lovedrunk teenagers as you foiled his every attempt to pull away from you. He finally managed to get his slacks and boxers off, no thanks to you. The choked off moan he let out as he swiped his tip through your folds, coating himself in your slick, only made you wetter. He wondered if he'd make it out of this alive and, as he slowly started to push in and felt the tight clench of your dripping cunt, he quickly realized he wouldn't.

"Oh god," he choked the words out, forehead pressed to yours. "Fuck honey, you're so- so- fffuuuuck." His eyes fluttered, reduced to babbling nonsense. You weren't faring much better. Your arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him and digging your nails into his back. Your mouth hung open, nothing but punched out little whimpers leaving you as he rocked his hips, sinking his cock in inch by inch until his hips were pressed flush to your ass.

"Ford- Ford you're so d-deep," you managed through panting breaths. Ford leaned in, unable to keep himself from kissing you. Really, it was just to keep you quiet. He was barely able to control himself just feeling you, how hot and wet you were, the way your cunt fluttered and squeezed around him as he bullied his way inside. He wouldn't have been able to stay sane if you started talking on top of that.

"Mm- mmnn Ford- Stanford-" you mumbled his name in between kisses, and he twitched inside you.

"Honey- honey, don't- I can't-" he whined against your lips, hips grinding into you, desperate for the way you gasped his name, nails digging into his skin. "God, you feel so good, fucking- fucking perfect, sweetheart you're so- so wet." He wasn't wrong, either. He could feel you soaking his cock, dripping down his balls. You dug your heels into his back, pussy fluttering around him.

"Please Ford," you whined. "Please move, please please please-" your words cut off with a whimper as Ford took them to heart. He started an even, steady pace, groaning into your skin at the way your pussy squeezed and sucked him back in. Desperate not to let him go. "Oh, oh god-" you choked the words out when he found your sweetspot again. Shifting his hips and angling so that his tip was giving it messy kisses every time he sank back in.

"S'that it? That the spot baby?" He twitched inside you, spurting precum to coat your walls at the fucked out look on your face. His hips jerked, pace increasing as he was desperate to keep you looking like that. Eyes glossy, brows furrowed, mouth open and panting. "Fuuuuck that's it, good girl. Jus' let me take care of you, jus' want you to feel me, feel how good it is when I'm inside you."

"So good, so- so good, Ford l-" he shushed your needy moans, leaning down to bite and suck marks into your neck. Your moans and his groans echoed throughout your room. The noise of your sloppy cunt loud enough to make anyone blush. When the pitch of your moans started to change, coming out faster, higher pitched, he knew you were close.

"Fuck you're close, aren't you? I can feel it, feel so suckin' me in- c'mon honey, cum for me, I wanna feel it," that was an understatement. He was desperate for it. Desperate to have you fully, in a way no one else ever had or would. He bit sharply at your shoulder, moaning against you skin as you squeezed him. "Fuck fuck fuck, that's it baby, that's it. Gooood giiiirl, c'mon show me who you belong to, who's making that pretty pussy feel so good." You never would've guessed Ford could be this filthy, but it was your undoing.

Your pussy clamped down around his cock, fluttering and squeezing rhythmically, making him go cross-eyed as the pleasure ripped through him. You creamed on his cock with a wail, nails scratching marks into his back he'd admire later. He felt his own orgasm hot on his heels, unable to resist the way you milked his cock.

"Baby- baby, I'm close I'm so-- oh god, so close, where-" your thighs squeezed around his waist, ankles locking behind his back and the sudden panic at realizing he couldn't pull out mixed with the pleasure in a way that left him dizzy. "Baby, baby dont- don't-"

"In me, please Ford wanna feel you wanna- wanna be full, please please please." There's no way he could've resisted you, no possible universe in which he could tell you no. Giving in with a deep, rumbling groan he felt his cock twitch, balls tightening as he pounded into you with renewed energy.

"Oooohhh fuck, my darling wants to feel full huh? My cock not enough for you h-huh? Gotta- oh god, gotta st-stuff you with my cum too?" You nodded, eyes teary from the overstimulation. When fat tears slid down your cheeks he was done. Hips jerking and fucking into you harshly, cumming with a hoarse shout of your name before he stilled inside you. You could feel his cock twitching, jerking as he spurted thick, gooey ropes of cum to coat your walls.

You both panted softly as you came down. You held Ford against your chest, feeling his heart beat where he was pressed against you. You smoothed your fingers through his hair and he hummed, soothed by the motions.

"Mmmm... y'do that and I won't have it in me to get up," he murmured. You giggled softly, kissing the top of his head as affection bloomed in your chest.

"I'm alright with that," you murmured. You shushed him softly when he started to protest. "We can clean up later. Right now, I just want to stay here. Just for a little bit. Please?" Ford paused for a moment, but the promise of your soft curves against him and your hands through his hair was impossible to resist, so he settled back against you.

"Fine. Later."

[vax-merstappen]

friends? (ls18)

summary: you had fallen for your childhood friend lance. but when he shows up to his family's party with his girlfriend, you are forced to confront your feelings.

i apologize in advance if your name is bethany, just the name i picked. but i hope you enjoy my first lance fic!

no warnings that i can think of :)

Lance captivated any room he stepped into. All eyes turned to the billionaire’s son, the racecar driver, and the worldwide star. But even with her on his arm, his eyes turned to you, his best friend.

You had grown up together, both starting karting around a similar age. You had gone from competing against each other to cheering when the other did well in races. Then you were hanging out at each other's houses outside of racing, playing video games or running around outside. In your teenage years, you continued to be friends even as the racing got more and more competitive.

The years blurred by until you got to where you were today, Lance racing in Formula 1 and you in Formula 2. You got to see him less often now, mostly when the F2 schedule aligned with the F1 schedule. He was always busy training, and frankly so were you. Apart from the occasional chat, you were now living separate lives.

So it had surprised you when Lance had posted a few pictures to his Instagram with a woman. They were holding hands in one photo and he had his arm wrapped around her waist in another. You had stared back in disbelief. Of course he was an adult, he was allowed to date someone. It was just the fact that he hadn't told you that hurt. And maybe the fact that you had fallen for him years ago.

Yes, you were hopelessly in love with your best friend. Lance Stroll, the Formula 1 driver.

And it seemed he now loved someone else. When they had walked into the party that his family was hosting, everyone in the room had turned to look at the driver and his new girl. You couldn't blame them. He looked stunning in his tux. And she looked like a goddess in her flowing red dress.

In the crowd, his eyes found yours and you felt your breath stop. Those soft brown eyes that you had looked into for years. His face shifted to a grin and the couple made their way over to you.

"Hey, you," he said, pulling you into a friendly hug once he made his way through the group of people. "Long time no see."

"Yeah," you replied, your voice like a sigh.

"Oh, and this is Bethany," he said, introducing you to the woman he had arrived with. "We're dating."

You plastered a smile onto your face and shook Bethany's hand. "It's so nice to finally meet you," she had said. "Lance talks about you all the time."

He did? Even though you two had fallen almost out of touch? This caught you by surprise.

"All good things I hope," you had replied with a chuckle.

"Of course!" she had laughed, smiling at you.

You looked over at Lance and saw he was no longer looking at you, but at the ground. Almost as if he were embarrassed. You flashed her a smile again and looked over at Lance.

"Well I'll let you two enjoy the night," you said, trying to excuse yourself from the conversation. You turned to leave them alone, before you heard Lance stop you.

"No, why don't you come eat at our table?" he asked. You saw Bethany's smile falter a little bit. And as much as you didn't want to have to watch Lance with his girlfriend, you couldn't exactly turn down your best friend, could you?

"If that's okay with you," you responded, looking between the couple.

You found yourself sitting on Lance's right while Bethany was to his left. You all had engaged in a bit of conversation, Lance talking about how his season was going in Formula 1 and you talking about how Formula 2 was going well for you. Bethany seemed a little zoned out of the conversation, a lot of the intricacies of racing not familiar to her. Racing was something that would always tie you and Lance together, whether you liked it or not.

But as the conversation went on, you saw her reach for his hand and grab it. You didn't deserve to be mad, as you had never decided to voice your feelings in fear of ruining what you had. But watching that simple act of intimacy between the two broke you.

You had always enjoyed his family's parties in the past, but now? Now that you couldn't sneak out early with him to go drive around aimlessly and listen to music or that you couldn't bribe him to grab you an extra portion of dessert, things were different.

As you distracted yourself with a refill of your drink, you didn't notice how his eyes lingered a little too long on the back of your dress or how he released her hand after he saw the way you looked sad.

A few more awkward moments in conversation with the couple, you decided to make a break for it. Being questioned by Lawrence for leaving early would be better than any more moments watching your childhood best friend and crush being romantic with someone else.

"I- I'm sorry," you mumbled. "I have to go..."

"Are you okay?" Lance asked, looking concerned.

"It's fine..." you sighed, quickly getting up from the table. "Enjoy your night. You both deserve it."

Quickly making your way to the parking lot, you held back tears. Even though you had drifted apart, a small part of you had held onto hope that maybe he would feel the same. That he could love you back just as you had loved him for so long. But clearly that was an illusion.

You staggered through the door of the venue in your heels, kicking them off and picking them up before running into the parking lot. You didn't care if there was media watching, all you needed was to get away as fast as possible.

Finally getting to your car, you fished around in your purse for your keys. You mumbled a few curses, unable to find where they had gone. A few tears pricked your eyes, this was the last thing you needed right now. You leaned up against the car and slid to sit on the ground, shutting your eyes against the world.

"Hey," a familiar voice said. "Forgot your keys."

You peeked open your eyes to see Lance standing in front of you. He looked concerned upon seeing you in such a disheveled state.

"Are you okay?"

You barely nodded. "Not really... it's stupid..."

Lance sat down on the asphalt next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "You can talk to me. I know we haven't been as close lately, but I'm always willing to listen."

"I don't want to ruin things..."

"What could you possibly ruin? Look, I care about you. Just tell me what's going on."

Him saying he cared about you was all the motivation you needed. Maybe if you just got this over with, you could move on and things would go back to normal.

"Lance... I've always liked you... as more than a friend. And seeing you tonight... so happy with her... I guess it hurt."

The look on his face went from concerned to shocked and then to sad.

You cleared your throat. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to put you in this position. You and Bethany... you look good together. You deserve someone like her."

Lance was silent for a minute. "I... you never asked me how I felt?"

"I never thought you would feel the same. Didn't want to ruin our friendship.

"Well... for the record I did love you. I... still do."

Your heart skipped a beat at the answer. "You do?"

"Yeah. I do."

You both sat in silence for a minute. "What do you want to do about it?" you asked quietly.

"I broke it off with her," Lance said simply. "Before I came running after you."

"Why would you do that?" you asked, genuinely confused. "You seemed so in love with her."

He looked you in the eyes. "Because coming to this party made me realize. It brought back so many memories. All the years we goofed around in front of dad's rich friends. All the times we left early to go have fun just the two of us. And then I saw you in that dress... and the way you looked at me after all these years. And I realized what I had with her would never compare to the years I've had with you. Even if you had said no... I couldn't just let you leave like that. Thinking our relationship didn't mean anything. Even if we just ended up being friends tonight."

"Lance I..."

"You mean a lot to me, you know? Just took a year apart and a girl I didn't truly love to realize how much."

You took a chance and reached over to grab his hand, just like she had a few hours earlier.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asked. "Speed away like we did as teenagers?"

"Yeah. I'll drive and you get the music."

"Deal," he said, cracking one of his smiles that just made your heart melt. He tossed you the keys to your car that you had forgotten on the table. You caught them with ease and stepped into your car. You looked over at your best friend, and now possibly lover in the passenger's seat and your heart was full.

"Lance..."

"Yeah?"

"I've wanted this for a while. Just me and you again."

"Well if you want to... we can spend a lot more time now just the two of us. Now that we're both on the same page."

"I can't imagine anything better," you said with a smile. You shifted the car into drive and pressed down the gas pedal, speeding away into the night. And as your favorite song came on the radio, you knew your life was about to get so much better.

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 14>

word count: 2.1K

Roman's POV

Me and Sophia are in my home now. The place where I was born and grew up - Pensacola. We are in our big yard, eating a classic Samoan barbecue with the company of my family.

My mother kept asking her a lot of questions about her life and to be completely honest I didn't quite listen cause I was too busy admiring my girlfriend's beautiful body that was hugged by the baby blue floral summer dress she is wearing and most specifically her breasts that are cupped by it.

Suddenly I felt a strong hit on my shoulder that completely startled me out of the unholy thoughts that I was having about my girlfriend.

"I raised you better than this." dad said quietly yet with scolding tone.

My father played such an important role for my mindset that is today. Frankly, if it wasn't for him, I'd probably never become a wrestler. He saw my potential before anyone else...even before myself.

He must have noticed how I look at Sophia and as a man, I expect him to understand me here but as I see, he wants me to behave. I couldn't help but feel bad.

"Don't blame me, dad." I whispered at him.

"I don't. The girl is amazing but please, keep your composure." he replied while he slightly widened his eyes.

I resemble him in a lot of ways. People tell me I look like him and act like him a lot, so I can bet my ass when he was young and met mom, he was completely crazy over her, too. But of course, he will never admit it to me.

"You are such a well-spoken woman, Sophia." I heard mom remarking. Judging by her expression and body language, she seems to like Soph and that brings me so much relief and comfort.

She didn't quite like my ex-wife ever since the moment I brought her here. Moms are always right. They really know when somebody isn't the one for you. My dad has also been telling me that I shouldn't stick to a woman I met in the darkest period of my life.

I met Michelle when I thought I was never returning to WWE again. I had a serious injury that could have ended my life and even if it didn't, it was questionable if I could return to sports one day. I was so lost and depressed. She was my escapism to all of that.

I really viewed her as a breath of fresh air and all that and she was. That's why I was convinced she was the love of my life and married her and tnen I found out she doesn't want kids. It's her choice, of course, I am not judging but when you marry someone, you have to have similar goals for the future, right?

Not to mention that the second I returned to WWE and started to become the greatest in the business, I felt her pulling away.

She just wasn't the same person I met when I was at my lowest. And that's why people say it's not important how people treat you at your lowest but at your highest.

Michelle is the pure examle for that. The more I was rising at work, the more she was drifting away from me. What she told me was that she just didn't feel like a priority to me which is completely wrong.

I was always trying to spend time with her as much as I could but I guess, there is nothing I could do if she felt that way. I couldn't convince her and I wasn't intending to.

That's why our divorce process was very smooth and unproblematic. No quarrels, no scandals, no fights.

So yeah, people sometimes can underestimate the vibe check on the parents and the clichè sayings.

Right now before me, I see my mom and sisters watching my girlfriend talk smartly, my lil' nephews drooling over her and my nieces admiring her.

I feel completed.

"And how does Paul feel about this?" my eldest sister asked.

"He just threatened my career." I replied with my arms crossed and the table was filled with laughter.

"It's so amazing. The fact that your uncle has been with our family for such a long time. I remember him ever since he was so, so young and now his niece being with my son. A generational bond." my dad remarked and I couldn't help but giggle.

"We may be talking about very deep generational tie here. I agree." mom replied and I took a sip of my water cup. "If you two have kids." I suddenly choked on my drink and started coughing like crazy and Sophia started hitting my back immediately.

"Sophia, you want kids, right?" mom asked her.

"Of course. I'd love to have one day." my girlfriend replied.

"Great. His ex-wife didn't want." she spoke with bitter tone.

"Mom." I said with scolding tone.

"Are we going to have little cousins?" one of my little nieces asked excitingly and I gave mom the "you fix this" look.

Sophia's POV

"All these trophies are yours?" I asked Joe as I was looking at the shelf full of trophies in his room.

We just had a pretty amazing day with his family and relatives. I got to know his parents and sisters. I spent time with his nephews and nieces as well all of which are raised so good.

I could see the wrestling genes are running in the whole family. The boys were fighting like crazy in the yard, I got scared for a second but Roman and Sika assured me it's a full circle moment. They were even advising them how to do the moves better and so on.

A bit scary yet wholesome.

I was left with the impression they liked me though but even if it was a pretend, it was a good one.

"Yup. I won my first one at seven. Long before you were born." he replied and I smiled continuously admiring the different gold figures in front of me. "I told you I have always been a winner."

"Impressive." I muttered. His room really looked like the typical room of a jock. Judging by what I've seen in the movies. High school me would never hang out in a place like this and I couldn't help but let out a mute giggle at that fact.

"I'm sorry if mom made you feel awkward, she just-" I interrupted him.

"No worries. She just wants grandkids like every mother." I replied logically. My mom has never expressed if she wants grandkids but even if she does, I don't know when she would be able to see them from her work schedule. What I know is that she would make sure the best midwife is around me.

"But it's too soon to be talking about this. Hope she didn't scare you." my boyfriend looked seriously concerned. I mean in a way I understand him since some of my peers as a whole can get triggered by this topic.

Not me though. Especially when my best friends are starting to get pregnant and the ones from high school are probably even expecting second kids.

"Nope. Not at all." I shrugged and finally decided to sit next to him on his bed. "This is not a taboo topic."

"I know but I had to make sure you are okay." he replied with cutely nodding his head.

"You're so cute." I exclaimed as I softly grabbed his face and kissed his lips. "I'm gonna eat you."

Joe looked excitingly scared with his boba brown eyes popping out. That expression however suddenly changed into a smug one.

"You know what I'm gonna eat? Those boobs." he said and buried his face in my cleavage making me squeal.

"Not here." I whisper-yelled.

"Why not?" he pouted and grabbed my wrists.

"I am not doing any freaky stuff in your old household where anybody can hear us." I declared. "I'm a woman of class."

"You just don't wanna make your biggest nightmare a reality." Joe said with that tone of a therapist who is psycho analysing you. By nightmare, he meant having sex in a jock's room.

"What? Don't be ridiculous." I rolled my eyes.

"It's true." he argued and as I was about to argue back, the door opened abruptly and it was the younger part of Joe's nephews and nieces, running to our bed.

"Uncle." they all yelled and climbed on the bed.

"We came here to say good night to you and aunt Soph." one of the curly haired angels named Alani spoke. They are all so sweet and the way they call me aunt is just so wholesome, it fills my heart.

I love kids.

Joe lifted himself up a bit and all of them went to hug him. I think I'm gonna pass out any second.

"Good night, my little angels." he replied to them as he stroked everyone's dark curly hairs.

"Good night, aunt Soph." they yelled and now they came to me for a hug.

I didn't hesitate to hug them back and I felt one of them burying his head close to my chest.

"Nuh-uh, lil' Julian." I heard Roman saying slightly dragging the boy's head away from my chest. "This is uncle Joe's territory."

"Leave the poor boy alone, Joseph, oh my god." I dragged the little kid back for a hug and my boyfriend squinted his eyes at me.

"You are very pretty, aunt Sophie." Julian now faced me. He is such a cute boy - around 5 years old with light brown skin and big brown boba eyes, curly hair.

"You are prettier." I replied and started tickling him a bit and the kid started laughing out loud.

"You look like Barbie." Sarah exclaimed and I smiled at her, squeezing her little hand slightly.

"No, she looks like Pamela Anderson." Liam, the eldest one here which was around 9 years old opposed. Me and Roman exchanged confused looks.

"How'd you know Pamela Anderson?" his uncle asked him.

"I found some old magazines in my dad's bedroom shelf." the boy replied and I started shaking my head.

"You really do look like her, though." my boyfriend agreed and I gave him the dead look cause there is another thing we should be concerned about.

"There you guys are." one of Joe's sisters, Summer, got in the room. "It's late already. Leave uncle and aunt to sleep, okay? They must be tired from the flight and the match yesterday."

She collected them like little stones and the kids actually listened to her. What I noticed from earlier when we were at the table, they may seem reckless and full of energy like every kid but when their parents or relatives tell them something, they listen immediately.

"They are so cute." I said after they left.

"Indeed but lil Julian can be a trouble." Joe remarked and I rolled my eyes.

"I guess he takes after his uncle." I snapped at him and he laughed.

"Some of them has to have my traits." he defended himself and then leaned to kiss me.

"I wonder what the fans' reactions are from last night." I said as we got away.

"Let's check." Joe replied excitingly and got in a sitting position, as he reached for his phone on the nightstand. "I will see on Twitter, you go to Instagram." he suggested and I agreed.

We started going through our phones. I am kinda off-guard since Joe claimed before that he isn't a technology guy and so on, he barely uses his phone but yeah, of course right now he is gonna be interested what the fans are going to think about us.

We opened the apps excitingly and while I was in the search bar about to type what I'm looking for, the stuff was all over my feed.

The capture of us kissing.

Headlines all over the place and questions rising for our future. Of course, there are comments about our age difference.

"I don't know if I wanna be Sophia or Roman in this situation. " Joe read out loud and started laughing. I followed him cause this is a good one.

"I knew it from the start that they were meant to be" I read a comment from Instagram.

"I was the first who knew that." he replied and my lips formed a tiny smile of sweetness.

"Of course the Tribal Chief would get the good stuff." Joe continued reading and started laughing at this. "Period."

"I wanna be in Sophia's shoes so bad." I read out loud and chuckled.

We actually read mostly very positive things and I am very surprised from this fact. People seem invested in this already and me and Joe said we shall not disappoint them.

[confess-ledzeppelin]

I know I'm probably crossing into controversial territory here, but I'm so sick of logging onto Tumblr just to find people talking shit about Jimmy and wishing the most horrible things imaginable over a single fucking thing. He's not a creep, he's not a pedophile, he's not a Satanist, he's not an asshole, and he doesn't deserve even a fraction of the hate he gets. I see it all the time and it's sickening what people wish on him.

I might as well address the elephant in the room first. Lori's story is pretty hard to find information for since she couldn't tell the truth to save her life (I frankly can't stand her because of that), but I did manage to find the actual facts:

First of all, it was never a "passionate long-lasting love affair", it was actually only a few months (they never hooked up again after that, even in the 80s) and they weren't "madly in love" or whatever. I'm frankly not sure which of them technically initiated the relationship (although it's something to take into account that Jimmy is much more reserved than most musicians (like, say, Jagger), and Lori was a groupie for a reason), but it wasn't the way Lori described it at all. She wasn't kidnapped by anyone, and the version about Jimmy waiting in his hotel room with a cane and no clothes on is the most ridiculous rubbish I've ever heard. This isn't fucking West Side Story. They did meet at a show, though. He recognized her as a model since she was at least decently popular, but it's not like he was just waiting on the edge of his seat for a chance with her.

Secondly, this girl was absolutely not groomed. While there are certainly some tragic stories about grooming and pedophilia in the music industry (or just the entertainment industry as a whole, really), Lori is NOT a part of it. Most of these girls, including her, knew what they were doing but didn't care. After all, why would they? It was (for the most part) socially acceptable at the time, even if it wasn't legal. There are lots of women out there who will admit to sleeping with older men while they were 12-17, I've heard it myself. Does that make it right? No, but it's not like she was pushed against a wall or coerced in any way, shape or form. Despite how her stories change every time she tells them, she has said she looks back on her time with Jimmy fondly (Jimmy was very good to all of his lovers, but whether they were good to him is a different story that I'll get to later). Does he? Not really, no. He hardly talks about it and I can't blame him. But if he could go back, it's something that wouldn't have been repeated. He is a human being who made a mistake that just like every single one of us has, yet for some reason he apparently deserves to go to hell for it. It makes no sense to me. One mistake shouldn't define who he is as a person. And by the way, the "Jimmy Page if minors" memes aren't funny and you know it. Stop.

Anyway, as for what I said about past lovers, it's honestly tragic. First it was Jackie DeShannon, the same girl that kept him physically retrained in a hotel room against his will and assaulted him at least once, all while insisting that she loved him. And he believed it. One of her two songs about him, "Don't Turn Your Back On Me", basically gives the message of "we are going to last last forever. And if we don't, yes we will. Fake it 'til you make it, or else." It creeps me out. Next it was Charlotte, the same woman who allegedly cheated on him several times (even though he was faithful to her just like every other woman he was with), started heated arguments with him constantly (one time during a fight she even slapped him hard in the face while wearing several rings, which likely drew blood), and always retained a very "well he's okay, I guess" view on him even when they were having a baby. Jimmy, on the other hand, adored her and tried to give her the best. He even once said something along the lines of, "as long as I have Charlotte, I'll be okay" when he felt threatened. Basically, he would've crossed an ocean for her while she wouldn't have crossed a puddle for him. Their entire story actually reminds me a lot of Since I've Been Loving You, and he deserved so much better. Maybe there were even more incidents like these that never made it to the public, even though I don't think they're very well-known. Naturally there was also Lori, who was - to put it lightly - way more trouble than she was worth, and just her existence unfairly taints his reputation. There were also a few times when screaming girls mobbed the stage and started taking his clothes off, although I suppose they don't count for this bit.

But imagine if that shit was reversed. He would be crucified. And the best part? People actually turn it around to make it sound like it was him doing all of that. Absolutely rich. I really think people hate him just for the sake of it.

Another thing is his interest in the occult and how he's typically assumed to be a Satanist, because he gets plenty of hate for that, too. I'll put it this way: if I were to be super interested in, say, sharks, does that make me a marine biologist? Even if I study sharks for hours and visit the aquarium every week, even if I buy a whole bookstore about them, does that make me one? No, of course not. I don't see a difference. I know many occultists practice witchcraft and worship Satan and a bunch of really creepy things, but he's not one of them.

People also dislike him just for being a general asshole, and that's just as wrong. He's a sweetheart, a gentleman, and he's actually pretty funny, too. This is the same guy who rushed to help Robert up back when he was on crutches and fell in a studio. Robert said he'd never seen him move so fast. He's been there for Robert through a lot, and I think it should be said that the only reason he wasn't present at Karac's funeral was because he was physically unable. 1977 was obviously one of the worst - if not THE worst - year for him as far as his health; I think we all know that. He had even lost so much weight that his clothes from school were huge on him. But when the media came after him for answers on why he wasn't there, he accidentally made himself look pretty callous (as far as Jones goes on the situation, my guess is that he just already had vacation plans or figured it wasn't his problem anyway).

Also worth mentioning, Jimmy has done TONS of work for charity. He joined and played a part in Task Brazil, the ABC Trust, the Ahmet Ertegun Education Fund, Childline, Mount Sinai Hospital, MusiCares, the AIDS Memorial Campaign and Racehorse Sanctuary (I believe these are also supported by Robert, naturally).

This is also the same dorky guy who was found in a literal pillowcase by a roadie who was sent to wake him up. The same guy who sneezed while recording the Stairway to Heaven solo and grew frustrated with himself and started apologizing while the rest of the band couldn't stop laughing their asses off. The guy who knows not to take himself obnoxiously seriously and can laugh at himself, and has a great sense of humor. He's shy and reserved, but he's always been kind enough to notice when other people have needed help. He's always been a very polite "yes sir and no ma'am" kind of guy who says gosh instead of swearing and has a very soft voice. He's also the ultimate mama's boy, and still is even with her gone.

Sometimes he even says the most beautifully poetic things ever. "I'm just looking for an angel with a broken wing." "I remember when I was young I used to run along railway bridges with 250 foot drops... just dancing..." I mean, come on.

I'm not sure what about this guy is worth hating.

Anyway, that's my soapbox. Thanks.

Also can't fit this onto a picture, so just sharing as is. Thanks, anon!

[danadiadea]

Snape didn't pretend to like Muggles, he even called them mudbloods in front of Lily, like Avery, Malsiber. He didn't pretend to be a good person. Lily said she hear Snape call Muggle born Mudblood.

I've never said he pretended to like Muggles or Muggleborns? You can't call Muggles Mudbloods though, that's just factually incorrect. And I don't think he used that word towards other Muggleborns in front of Lily, like Lily is a bit hypocritical, but not THAT hypocritical, and Severus is not an idiot too. I think Lily heard this information from her friends who might've heard it either from him or get it from the rumours, since her friends evidently tried to make Lily and Severus part ways, so they'd present arguments against him.

Anyway, if you live in the environment of blood supremacists where Mudblood word is used all the time and you agree with some of their agenda already, like that Muggles are bad and Dark Magic is interesting (i personally can't blame Severus too much for agreeing with those), you are likely to give into pressure sooner or later, especially if your position in the group is fragile. For me the fact that all this "how do you hang out with evil Mulcibier" and "you call people of my birth Mudbloods" stuff was brought up only in their fifth year says clearly that he either couldn't befriend them before and wasn't accepted, or didn't really want to and treasured his connection with Lily more but his priorities changed. In both cases he would've complied to their social norm, even if he hadn't completely shared it (at which points not only his friendship with Lily, but also how he acknowledged his own half-blood heritage in his private nickname).

But yeah, Severus was prejudiced towards Muggleborns and Muggles to an extent. We don't have any evidence that he held a strong prejudice towards Muggles, I mean the phrases he used with Petunia are objectively better than what "good" adults from the Order said sometimes, and it can be debated how much of him using Mudblood word and being friends with Avery and Mulcibier was out of sharing the prejudice and how much out of his wish to adapt and fit in, so I don't believe he was very ideological about it, but he didn't disagree. I don't think it makes him a bad person, frankly. I think it makes him a Slytherin and a character who lives through his life experiences in a realistic and human way.

[bardoftheshire]

Heres something I've been thinking about working on for a while now and I'm finally getting to it. Heres the pilot of it, let me know if you guys want me to make it into a full series (which I might do anyways🧍‍♂️)

Here's the link on Ao3 for the series if you prefer to read on there :)

Weird Science | Pilot Chapter

Egon Spengler x Fem Reader

Summary; honestly I don't know what I'm gonna do with this, I'll leave the summary to finish later.💀

Notes; This is a fem reader and it is mentioned quite a bit, this is to make things a little easier to write but I may consider making it a gender neutral reader if enough people want it and ask. [This is also kind of a long one for a pilot chapter.]

Warnings; Some swearing and mentions of smoking. [Also very very minor mentions of drinking.]

Part 1/? | Next Chapter>

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"Hey, can you hand me that soldering iron please?" I say, holding my hand out.

"Of course Dr. L/n," Theodore says, handing the iron carefully.

Theodore Thalmann was a freshman student majoring in Computer Engineering at Columbia University, the very University I've worked at for 7 years now.

Theodore came for an internship to work with me, wanting to learn a little more visually than just reading some book, writing down notes, and listening to some old guy talk for hours on end, and frankly you couldn't really blame him for not wanting to deal with that.

Theodore was a sharp kid, not lazy like most of these kids now, and willing to learn rather than just be here for some extra credit, that's what you liked about him so much.

"Do you need anything else Dr. L/n?" Theodore asks, writing a bit more into his notebook.

Just then, a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.

"Yes actually, can you go get that for me?" You reply, taking the protective glasses off of your face.

You get up out of your chair, taking off your black rubber gloves and placing them in their respective area. You liked things organised in your lab, it was much easier to find exactly what you needed, and it was also that you never liked a mess where there was work.

"Is Dr. L/n in here? I need to have a word with her." A voice you were far too familiar with comes from the door where Theodore was standing.

Oh, this can't be good.

"Yes she is, come on in Mr. Yeager," Theodore says, letting the man inside the lab.

"Ms. L/n, pleasure to see you again.. as always." The man says snarkily.

You turn around and walk towards him.

"Hello, Mr. Yeager. Come to complain about the music volume again? I promise I hadn't played anything today, whatever you might've heard must've been someone else."

"No, actually, I wanted to talk to you about something more serious. Do you think you can get this student to be somewhere else so its a more private conversation?" The Dean says, smiling sarcastically.

Dean Yeager wasn't exactly fond of you, hense the use of your last name rather than Dr. L/n, regardless of how hard you had worked for that title. But to be quite fair, you weren't very fond of him either, so it was more of a mutual hate. There were probably a lot of reasons why he wasn't very big on you, but one of the most obvious had to be the fact that you played your music too loud while you worked. Far.. too loud.

"Of course sir. Um, Mr. Thalmann, would you mind stepping outside for a few moments? Me and Dean Yeager need to speak to eachother in private," You say, turning towards Theodore.

Theodore gives a nod and takes off his pair of gloves, placing them haphazardly on a nearby worktable then stepping outside of the lab, shutting the door.

"So, Ms. L/n, I wanted to inform you that you will no longer be working here at the university, I'm giving you a one month notice so that way you may pack all that you have and get out of here by then, is that understood?" Dean Yeager says, a shit eating grin on his face.

"Excuse me?" You say, after a few moments of silence.

"I said you are out of here in a month, fired, let go of, from the university, Ms. L/n," He repeats, venom laced in his voice.

"But wh-what am I supposed to do about Mr. Thalmann? I can't just tell him-" You stutter, still letting the fact you're being fired sink in.

"We will move him with Professor Dietz, someone that actually has a degree to teach, Ms. L/n". He says, cutting you off.

"But I've worked here for more than five years now, you can't just let me go. I graduated from this very University Mr. Yeager, for what reason do I deserve to be let go?" You say, anger becoming more prominent in your voice as you continue to speak.

"We are letting you go because of the constant loud music, because of the constant loss of electricity on the campus due to your failed experiments, because of your lack of necessity and funding of being here, Ms. L/n. We cannot continue to fund and pay you just for you to cause disruptions and only be useful to students if they are working under you as an intern. Even when you do have them, they only complain about how you do absolutely nothing in ways of teaching them, you are the issue, Ms. L/n."

The students don't think I teach them? But they've never complained.

The thought of the past interns you've had having bad thoughts about you and your ways of teaching them hurt far more then being fired. Sure, you got good pay from the university and your projects were funded, but the students wanting to come in and learn more about what you just so happen to love was the reason why you were still working there in the first place. And sure, you would sometimes blast music while showing and teaching them, but they never complained.

"The students never complain though, I do my absolute best to teach them Mr. Yeager, I don't underst-"

"That is the last of this conversation, Ms. L/n! You will be out of here in one month, and you will get no more students doing internships with you from right now to the day that you are completely gone from this place! Goodbye, Doctor." Dean Yeager says, walking out of the lab, shutting the door.

After a few moments Theodore comes back into the lab, slowly and gently closing the door.

"Ah, Mr. Thalmann, um there's going to be a change in plans for you with this internship unfortunately. I hope you don't mind but you'll be moved to go and work with Professor Dietz starting tomorrow, I do apologise," You say, straightening your back.

Theodore stays quiet for a minute, the air thick with awkwardness.

"What Dean Yeager said about all the other students disliking you and your teaching, I don't agree with him. I like your teaching and don't think its right of Dean Yeager to just fire you on the spot like that, Dr. L/n." Theodore says awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood of the room.

"Thank you, Mr. Thalmann, but unfortunately that still doesn't change my situation about my work here. I truly do appreciate all of your help and willingness to learn more, especially from me for these past couple of weeks. You're a great student and I'll be honest, I envy Professor Dietz for getting to teach you," You say, a slight smile on your face.

"Thank you, Dr. L/n, do you need any help cleaning up?" Theodore asks, taking the rubber gloves from the table and placing them next to yours.

"No, no, there's no need for that at all, you're free to go early today, thank you for the help Mr. Thalmann."

"Alright, thank you again for teaching me Doctor, I hope everything else goes well for you," Theodore puts the lab coat you let him borrow folded up onto a clear table, then leaves the lab.

You sit down in your rolly chair, clearly worn out as it was bought almost 8 years ago in the late 70s. Even with its rips and threads sticking out from it, as well as the black soot stains and worn cushions, it was still comfortable and somewhat soothing. It reminded you of when you first started working here, about a year after you graduated from the university. And now that you think about it it makes you a little upset that for the past 12 years now this university is all you knew.

Sure you had your own apartment and went out for groceries sometimes, but you never had friends that you still kept in touch with, so you never really went to bars or parties. And at this point having an apartment proved useless as most of the time you would fall asleep in your lab, you would eat in the university's cafeteria, and after that you would just get back to work and drown every other sound out with music from the radio or your cassette tapes.

You get up and grab your coat, leaving the lab to go outside.

You pat your pockets and pull out the cigarette tin, hoping you hadn't run out of any, and to your relief you had just two more left. Grabbing one out of the tin and placing it lightly hanging from your mouth, then lighting it and inhaling the smoke.

You make a mental note that you'll have to go to the drugstore and buy some more.

"What the hell am I gonna do now?" You mutter to yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

You turn your head to see an old friend you hadn't been in touch with since you've graduated at this university.

"Ray?"

"It is you! Oh am I glad to see you. Its been, gosh, how many years now? How have you been? What are you doing here?" Ray says excitedly, asking a million questions all at once.

"Its so great to see you too, Ray. I've been okay these past years, and I work here actually." You say, giving a light chuckle.

Well, more so like you worked here.

"You work here?"

"Yeah, I've been working here since after we graduated actually, what are you doing in terms of a job?"

"I work here too actually, I'm surprised I never seen you around here. You remember Venkman and Spengler though?" He says, taking a half used cigarette out of his pocket.

"Yeah, how can I not remember Venkman, the guy constantly harassed and flirted with me until I graduated, kinda annoying. But I don't recall ever speaking to or interacting with Spengler though."

"Well I've actually been working with them two for a couple of years now, we're working on some equipment and studies to see if ghosts and entities are actually real, parapsychology you know. It would kinda make sense for you to not remember Spengler though, he was a quiet isolated sorta guy. Mind lending me your light?" Ray rambles on, gesturing for your lighter.

You hand him the lighter, taking another drag from your cigarette yourself as he lights his.

"That's neat, I honestly can't believe that I hadn't known you were here though, I would've loved to talk to you and hang out more after graduation," You say, grabbing your lighter back from Ray.

"We should go out for drinks sometime! It'd be a great way to catch up with eachother, I could bring the other guys too! Maybe all of us could ask you questions about our equipment. Given that I don't really know how to do it and all but you're the one that got a Doctoral in Computer Engineering and'll know a bit more than me, but mostly just to hang out with eachother again, like old times!" Ray says excitedly, a smile on his face.

"I'd love to go for drinks with you guys, not sure I'll be of any much use now though because I've just gotten fired by Yeager and have to move all my stuff out by a month from now, so studying and doing experiments are not something I'll get to work on for a while now," You chuckle, putting your cigarette out on the palm of your hand.

"Oh thats such a shame, Y/n I'm sorry that happened. It seems like Yeager has got a grudge on you too, huh?" Ray says sympathetically, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah but honestly, I totally deserved it. Do you remember those series of blackouts throughout the campus that would happen twice a week? Those were all me and it took him 5 years to get sick of it and finally fire my ass,"

You laugh, now feeling a bit better about the loss, mostly because you get to speak with Ray again.

"I heard from some of the other professors that the cause was coming from the engineering and computer science halls, it reminded me of you in a way, and it seems I was right about it!" Ray laughs, letting out a dry cough afterwards.

God, Ray has always had such bad smoking problems. I can't say all that much though because that'd be too hypocritical but that cough is starting to get worse.

You two continue talking a while longer, forgetting how long you've been out there until hearing all the ruckus from the students getting released from their classes.

"I should get going now, Peter and Egon are probably wondering where I went by now. Oh! How can I get in touch with you by the way?" Ray says, turning back around toward you.

"I'm usually over here in my lab but it seems it won't be like that much longer, but here's the number for my home telephone, call me if you need or want to plan anything and if I don't answer leave me a message for my answer box," You say, pulling out a notepad and pen from your pocket, scribbling the number down, ripping out the page and handing it to Ray.

"Thanks Y/n, I'll remember to call you later on! Sorry about the whole getting fired thing, by the way, but I hope we see more of eachother. I'll talk to you later!" Ray says, taking the paper and waving goodbye as he runs off to a different area of the university.

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

Once you were back into the lab, you looked around to see what you should start packing. You didn't have much space at your apartment so you would either probably have to rent out a storage unit or call your parents to see if they could store some of it in their attic at home.

First I need to get boxes, and then a bunch of bubble wrap and foam so none of my equipment or computers break. I'll have to go and buy some from the post office.

You go and grab your keys and head back outside of your lab, locking the door before you leave. Walking to your car, you take your keys and unlock the door of it.

As you sit down and turn the key it stalls, taking a few more tries before it finally starts. I really gotta get a new car or at least get it checked out.

You start to drive to the nearest post office, and due to the horrible New York traffic it took you about 20 minutes to get to it even if it was only half a mile away. But that's what you got yourself into deciding to move to one of the most populated states in the US.

You park, grab your wallet, lock your car, and proceed into the post office.

You see the large amount of people in there, checking their post boxes, mailing out letters, and waiting to get their packages accepted to be sent out.

You walk to the area they have the boxes set up, grabbing a few medium sized ones and proceeding to the shortest line so you can purchase them. Once finally at the front, you place the flattened boxes onto the table.

"Hello, just these and also, do you guys have the big rolls of bubble wrap?" You say to the man at the desk, who already looked far too tired.

The man nodded and pulled out a large roll of bubble wrap, placing it on top of the boxes.

"Is that all, ma'am?"

You nod, taking your wallet out of your coat pocket so that way you have your money ready.

The man punches numbers into his machine, looking at each thing on the desk as he does so.

"That'll be $21.47, ma'am."

You take 22 dollars out of your wallet, handing them to the man as he takes it, placing the bills into the register and grabbing a few coins for your change and handing them and the receipt to you.

You thank the man and take the boxes and bubble wrap with you, struggling slightly at how awkward it was to hold the 10 flat boxes and bubble wrap in your arms.

You open the trunk of your car, putting the boxes and bubble wrap in, just barely fitting to where you can close the trunk door.

God, this is gonna suck.

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I literally wrote all of this in about 7 maybe 9 hours total because I just thought up something and was like, "oh yeah, this'll be great," and that's at least what I'm hoping now. I want this to kinda be slow burn and I know that's what I always say when I do series, and I never finish them, but I am really hoping I'll be able to do more with this then my other failed attempts at series [if I take longer than a month to get another chapter of this out I want you all to yell at me and tell me to finish it]

Word count; 2,769

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Next Thing You Know

Part 12 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Description: Jake's not having fun in Maine, at least not fun like he'd been expecting. Gorgeous' dad is a Naval legend, and well, he's not all that pleased by Jake. So he's been doing what he can. Now what does the retired Rear Admiral need him on a boat for? Waking up to Jake, all of him, is something that you relish in, no matter where you are or who you're with. His wake-up calls make you smile through the day when you can get them. Of course, the fact that he gave you one of his special wake-up calls in your childhood bedroom where your dad could have heard you is far from ideal. What you're not expecting is your dad to take Jake on the boat. Is this it? Is this the moment where Jake is either going to get your dad's approval or will you be forced to have Mav walk you down the aisle? Disclaimers: Smut Warnings: Female Reader Word Count: 3550 Author Note: Chapter 12 is yet another chapter in Jake's perspective (partially this time), and well, I couldn't help myself in writing another spicy scene for Jake and his Gorgeous Girl! Sending all of the summer vibes to all of the places where it get cold and dark at 4 P.M! AO3: Cross-posted Here! Wattpad: Cross-posted Here! My Masterlist Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

Jake wakes up to a beam of light hitting his face through the open curtains. Gorgeous is curled up in his arms, her face relaxed, brow furrowing just a little at whatever she's seeing in her dreams. Now to see if he can act on everything he promised himself he would do before he fell asleep last night.

First order of business? Get his mouth on his gorgeous fiancée. Not that he remembers it, but Jake's grateful that she'd only put on one of his t-shirts for bed. It makes things easier as he slowly inches his way down her body until he's level with her stomach. He's never going to get tired of her. His gorgeous girl with her soft, supple skin and her pretty smile and even prettier mind. He starts gently, laying soft kisses across her stomach and over her thighs. Her limbs are sleep-heavy as he carefully parts her thighs, pausing every time he hears a hitch in her breathing or the rustle of the sheets as she moves in her sleep.

When he slides his fingers through the velvet folds, they come away coated in the clear sheen of her arousal. A soft moan slips out of her mouth, and all of a sudden, Jake can't wait anymore. Nobody can blame him, he's sure. His fiancée is lying there, after all, practically naked, wet, and aching for his touch. His tongue is flat as he laves it over her folds, each pass gathering more of the sweet earthiness of her on his tongue as it goes. 

Jake is sure there isn't a better taste or feeling in the world. Then the first sweet, breathy, mumbling moan drifts past Gorgeous' parted lips. He's captivated then. He's transfixed watching the rise and fall of her chest as sleeping fingers ruck the t-shirt up. Unconsciously they work the peaks of her nipples to stiffness and cradle the heavy curves of her breasts in her palms. Jake continues his slow devouring of his fiancée, each slow swipe of his tongue meant to tantalize her, and ignores the insistent arousal making his hips grind ever so slightly into the mattress below them.

When she comes, it's like a work of art. Her muscles tense around his shoulders, strong thighs baring down around his head like they want to keep him captive. As the wave crashes over her, each muscle relaxes, like there's a rolling wave of contentment coursing over her system. But as much as he'd like to stay there, and frankly he could for the rest of his life, he's got a fiancée to wake up. His hands are gentle as they trail up over her soft skin. Jake’s careful to not put too much of his weight on her as he slides his way back up her body. Her eyes are open and she’s smiling blearily at the sight of his face. He dips his mouth down to give her a gentle kiss, smirking at the soft sigh that pours out of her mouth.

“G’morning, Jay.” Her voice is sleepy and groggy, her fingers gentle as they trail through his sleep-mussed hair. Jake nearly purrs from the pleasure of it as they scratch with the perfect force over his scalp. “What was that for, handsome?”

He shrugs, peppering kisses across the sides of her neck. He’s practically melting into her soft skin. Jake’s not sure why she always smells so good. Why it always feels so right to be with her. For that alone, he can’t resist kissing her again, morning breath and the tang of her release on his tongue be damned, drinking in her groans as her legs slip around his waist. The kisses are tender and sweet, and god he hopes his Gorgeous Girl knows exactly how much he loves her from his kisses alone.

“God, baby doll.” His voice is a groan, tender and half muffled by more kisses as her hands slide under the waistband of his boxers and squeeze his ass. “Fuck, I love you, beautiful girl.”

“Are you going to show me how much you love me then, Jay?” He doesn’t quite get to respond, instead choosing to show he. He wraps his lips around one of her pert nipples and wrestles the t-shirt off instead. Finally, Gorgeous seems to be on the same page as he is, though he has to moan at the feeling of her hand wrapping around his length. It’s hurried and quick, a rough passionate fuck, as he shoves his boxers down just far enough that his aching length is free and presses into her waiting warmth. Each slow, languid thrust has sweat dripping down his spine and Gorgeous's eyes rolling back. Her breath catches deep in her throat, and he has to kiss her to quiet the moans. The last thing he needs is Slider, Admiral Ron Freaking Kerner, walking into his daughter’s bedroom when the schlub she wants to marry is balls deep in her.

When his hand slips over her mouth, and her walls flutter along his length, he knows he’s found something that will be the center of every fantasy he’s going to be having for years. If his hand clasps around her throat moments later and her eyes widen as her pussy gushes, then that’s a particularly spectacular kink he is going to enjoy for many days and nights to come. Her eyes are glassy, tears collecting in her lash lines, mouth parted in an oh as he fucks into her. He can tell she's close by the sting in his shoulders from her nails digging in even as she's a ragdoll limp in his arms. He cums with a roar, digging his teeth into the meat of her shoulder to stifle the noise as she quivers around him. Now that's exactly what he's been missing - a fucked out drop-dead gorgeous girl lying in the sheets. That it’s his gorgeous girl makes the sight all the sweeter. All in all, he’s in a pretty good mood over breakfast with the Admiral, especially when Gorgeous blushes whenever he smirks at her. 

He doesn't feel the same way two hours later standing on the dock and looking up at the boat Admiral Kerner is standing on. He'd left Gorgeous behind at the house, walking like she couldn't feel a thing below her waist. Of all of the things Jake has been expecting the Admiral to have him do, boats weren't on the list. Not at all. A part of him would rather be whitewashing houses and fixing fences for another day in a row than having to get onto a boat. Being up on an aircraft carrier is different - no matter what Gorgeous has tried to tell him. An itty bitty twelve-foot sloop isn't the same. So, he is wholly uncomfortable stepping onto the boat. It sways more than expected, feeling like he's balanced on a wood plank in the middle of an avalanche. But more than the little sailboat he's getting on, he's worried about the man he's getting on board with.

Admiral Kerner has a reputation, even nearly a decade after he retired from the Navy. Scuttlebutt always had the most interesting things to say when the Admiral was running the base in Corpus Christie. But the general consensus seemed to be that he was a hardass. As well as to say that you should never get on his daughter’s bad side - or make any moves on her. Jake’s screwed in so many ways now. Especially since over the past year and a half, he's managed to do both. So it truly feels like he's got the hangman's noose wrapped around his throat. Normally, he's the Hangman, the Executioner. Now there's somebody far scarier that he's facing down.

"C'mere, son." Jake’s uncharacteristically cowed as he steps forward. He can read it in the Admiral’s face just as easily as he can sense it in his own body language. “I don’t let just anyone on this boat, son. Do you know why I invited you to this boat?”

Jake’s truly not sure. After over a decade of building his confidence, he feels like he’s backsliding, right back to that kid who joined the Naval Academy at eighteen beaten down and tired.

“Your reputation precedes you, son. I know you’re just as aware of that as my daughter is. The day you walked in my front door, I asked you why you wanted to marry my daughter - why I should approve of you marrying her despite your reputation. You told me you don’t know why she gave you a chance. You told me to ask her why.”

“And frankly, son. That’s not enough of an answer for me. I’m not her biological father. I’m her godfather, the man her parents trusted with her life if they couldn’t be there to love her the way she deserved to be. Due to a series of truly unfortunate events, her parents were stolen from her, stolen from the world. I had to step up and take on the responsibility I promised to take on. Every moment of my life since that night has been centered on that little girl. Every tear, every bruise, every laugh that left that sweet little face, I witnessed. My hands picked her up when she fell and held her when she cried from nightmares. A part of me wished she would never grow up. But even a highly decorated Rear-Admiral can’t freeze time in its tracks.”

Jake’s surprised by the changes in the older man. In one conversation he seems to have softened, and when he hands Jake a beer, Jake’s too happy to take it. If only so, he has something to do with his hands as the boat bobs against the dock.

“It feels like I blinked and she was dating, graduating, moving to college and finally moving away. It felt like the center of my world had left. Before you, she hasn’t returned home in nearly five years.”

Now this, Jake can’t believe. Gorgeous talks about her dad all the time. Sure, she never mentioned he was a retired Rear Admiral in the Navy, but she always talks about her dad. It’s not a stretch for someone to realize how much she loves her dad. One conversation about him was enough to show Jake how close the father and daughter pair are.

“You might be wondering why I’m telling you this. It definitely wasn’t what I intended to say when I got you on board this boat.” He snorts, swigging the beer in a gulp. “I fully intended on a speech where I told you never to hurt my daughter or the Navy would never help investigate your disappearance.”

Jake feels himself blanche at those words. A quiet confidence exudes from the Admiral’s menacing tone. It sounds like he’s sure he could uphold that promise.

“But instead, that conversation turned into this one. It’s for one very specific reason. I know she’s dated before you. But she’s never once brought another one of her guys home. You’ve found your way into her heart. She looks at you, and you look at her the same way her parents used to look at each other.”

Jake takes a sip of the already warming beer just because the Admiral is looking at him with all-seeing eyes. He’s not sure what to say. How could he say something that would match the gravitas of the information that the Slider Kerner is giving him without settling back into the dick Hangman has made him? It’s something he’s been working on since he met Gorgeous, and that persona still finds its way out at the least provocation.

“Fuck, kid, you yourself are so worried about what I think that you’re sweating through your shirt and barely drinking a drop. I have it under the highest authority that it’s your favorite beer and you’re just now taking a sip!” Ron Kerner laughing was not on Jake’s Meet the Parent bingo card, but it makes him hope that he’s finally getting the older man’s approval. “So take this as my approval, kid. You’ve got my daughter, won her like she’s the rarest of treasures. So take care of her, love her. And maybe get her to come home sooner than once every five years, huh?”

Jake’s left dumbstruck as Admiral Kerner walks away whistling like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Now what the hell is he supposed to do on this fucking boat?

Your dad’s whistling and smiling as he walks down the gangplank. You thought that he was taking Jake on a tour of the bay. You’re huffing and puffing having lugged the heavy picnic basket down the hill because the men forgot it. Now, will you need it at all?

“Dad?” He walks right up to you and crushes you in a bear hug. “What’s going on, Daddy?”

“You’ve got a good one, kiddo.” If you didn’t have whiplash earlier, well you have it now. “He has my approval. Now, why don’t you show him around the bay? I’m sure he’d have more fun with you than your old man. I’m pretty sure Mrs. Petersen promised me a pie anyway!” With that jaunty parting, a wave, and a kiss on your forehead, you’re left with the key in your hand and the colossal picnic basket. You lug it up the steps, because you haven’t seen Jake yet, and find him staring out at the bay with a beer bottle dangling from two fingers.

He doesn’t notice even when you clatter down to the hold and stash the picnic basket in the small galley or when you start up the engine. It’s the cool breeze which finally gets his attention as the sloop picks up speed.

“Gorgeous? What’re you doing on the boat? Where’d your dad go? Why are we heading out onto the bay?” He sounds adorably confused at the change in scenery.

“It’s a beautiful day for a sail, Jake!” You smile, relishing in the salty breeze that is surely whipping your hair into a frenzy..

“It really is beautiful.” He sighs the words out and his tone is different enough that you look over at him. He’s looking right at you, sunglasses not hiding a single bit of his sparkling green eyes. “But you still haven’t answered why I’m on this boat, baby doll.”

You smile and cut the engines. Walking around him you start unfurling the main sail. “You’re in the Navy, Jake! You spend so much time around far bigger ships. Don’t tell me this little twelve-foot sloop has you quaking in your boots!”

“Well, sweetheart, I’m not wearing boots. Also, I’m in the Navy. As a Naval Aviator. I fly planes, honey. I don’t sail boats, baby, I land on them.” You can sense a wry amusement in his words, and though you’re not facing him, you can practically see him fold his arms across his chest.

You’re giggling as you turn around and sure enough, he’s standing exactly as you expected him to be. “Well, then, I guess there isn’t a better time for you to learn how to sail, then, flyboy. C’mon over here, the wind’s perfect for a sail. It also means I can show you all of my favorite parts of the Bay!”

He's quiet, standing like a sentinel at your back, not a quip or smart comment in sight. Jake only hops to attention to help where needed as you put up the sail and the boat starts picking up speed - all without a single word. It feels a lot like the night when you first met the Daggers, the night he told you about his first air-to-air kill. He has to be thinking about something, something which is robbing his ability of being present in the moment with you. You don’t feel like you have to fill the silence either. It’s relaxing, with the warm sun on your face and the salty spray tangling through your hair and collecting on the thin sweater you’d thrown over top of your sundress.

You brake the boat by maneuvering the mainsail to be head-to-wind when you reach one of your favorite waterfalls and head down into the galley.

“Why’d you stop the boat, baby doll?” He sounds so confused and a little taken aback.

“It’s nearly one o’clock, Jay! I figured you must be hungry. I know I am!” He takes the picnic basket from you with a small smile, watching eagle eyed as you lay the blanket out and set out everything you’ve brought.

“God, Gorgeous. When did you have the time to do this?” He sounds awed as he sits on the opposite end of the blanket from where you're setting the food and drinks out.

“I figured I ought to return the favor. The picnic we had on New Years was amazing, after all.” When Jake smiles, he finally looks like the man you fell in love with and less like Atlas holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. “And, well, I truly adore coming out here. So I kinda combined trips and brought a picnic that we could eat on the boat.”

“You and Dad were supposed to bring it down to the docks together. That's why I was down there, in fact. I brought it down when the two of you forgot it. But then he gave me the keys and told me to take you on a tour of the bay.”

“You weren't exactly going to argue that, huh, Gorgeous?” Your cheeks flush a little, heat rising to your face as you busy yourself inside the hamper, praying the sturdy wicker will hide your facial expressions.

It takes you a few minutes to compose yourself again as you pull out the two plastic champagne flutes and the bottle of sparkling juice that you were searching for - not that they were easy to miss in the mostly empty basket. “I missed you, Jay. It feels like we've barely seen each other this week. So yeah, I wasn't going to argue with my dad.”

“C'mere, Gorgeous.” He holds one hand out for you and you're only too eager to skirt the edge of the blanket to take it securely. You kick off your sandals and curl into his side, pecking his cheek as he deftly wrangles the bottle of juice open and pours out healthy portions. It's sticky and sweet, the bubbles exploding across your tongue in a way that makes your nose wrinkle as it itches from the fizzy onslaught of your palate.

“That is…. Unpleasantly sweet baby doll. Any reason why we're not grabbing beers from the cooler?” You can see the disgust on his face as he pops a couple of chips into his mouth to chase the taste of artificial flavoring out of his mouth.

“It was in the fridge and it seemed like a shame to waste it.” Jake just screws the cap back onto the bottle and shoves it back into the basket. 

“That's going to stay there until we get back to the docks and then we'll dump it in the nearest trash can. That pretty little mouth is too good for the likes of that to be on your tongue.” Jake looks so genuinely offended on behalf of your tongue that you can't restrain the laughter which spills out of you.

“It’s just some grape juice, Jay! There’s nothing inherently offensive about it!” He’s snickering too as he tugs you in and pecks your lips. It starts off as a clumsy kiss, considering how you’re both laughing, your teeth colliding in the moments before you melt into each other and the kiss.

“Mmm, maybe so…” He looks like the cat that’s got the cream as he looks over your face though. “But you taste better like this than that juice ever could. And well, there was something absolutely delicious which I sipped on this morning which was even better.”

God, you love this man. You love his mouth, his face, his demeanor, you love everything about him. You even love how he takes your breath away just by being himself. You still flush at his comment, of course you do. It’s not every day after all, that you bring a man home and he wakes you up with multiple orgasms - orgasms which you have to muffle into the flesh of your arm so your dad doesn’t hear. You hadn’t been able to meet his gaze all morning, feeling the sting of his stubble on your thighs and how sore he’d made you. 

“That was a dirty move, Seresin.” You busy yourself making up plates of food so you don’t start giggling at the face he makes when you call him by his last name instead of his first. Of course you also have to contend with his arms wrapping securely around you and how you end up on his lap. But that’s okay too, sharing a plate with your fiancé in the spring sunshine. It’s an idyllic afternoon, and somehow you can tell, the rest of your life is going to be just like this, full of love and laughter as long as Jake and you face it together. 

Taglist:

@love2write2626 @little-wiseone @eli2447 @f1maverick @djs8891  @shanimallina87 @chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @dempy  @mamaskillerqueen @abaker74 @marvelouslyme96  @daddymack01 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky  @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @cherrycola27  @thedroneranger @roosterforme

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[vikkirosko]

🔪 Jimmy x Reader platonic Oneshot I have a gift for you 🔫

When you were informed that another job was waiting for you, you thought that everything would be as usual. Arrive, pick up the cargo, fly away, deliver the cargo. Nothing new or unusual. But everything went completely wrong according to plan. And what did you have now? The freighter is damaged and only thanks to some miracle has not yet collapsed, the air will run out before water or food, and your captain was lying in a terrible condition in medbay.

Everyone blamed Curly for what happened, but it was hard for you to believe it. It seemed like the most real nonsense. Your captain, a caring captain who always put the welfare of the crew above his own, and abruptly decided to kill you along with himself? It sounded like a real nonsense that you weren't going to believe. But Jimmy looked suspicious. Perhaps you were biased against him because you didn't have the best relationship from the very beginning of working together, but before you ignored your negative attitude towards him for the sake of work and at the request of the captain. Now Jimmy has appointed himself captain, and you weren't thrilled about it. It seemed to you like a huge conspiracy that Jimmy had set up.

Anya was the only one you shared your concerns with. She tried to calm you down and convince you that this was not the case. The last thing you needed was arguments, given the situation you found yourself in. You promised her you wouldn't jump to conclusions, but the thought that you didn't trust Jimmy hasn't gone away.

You often sat in medbay with Curly. Even Anya spent less time there than you did. Every time the nurse asked Jimmy to give Curly medicine, he kicked you out, arguing that you should mind your own business, not loaf around. It was seriously starting to bother you, and when one day you heard the sounds of blows, you realized that Jimmy had harmed Curly. You couldn't say it openly, but you couldn't leave it like that either. Jimmy obviously thought too much about himself after he appointed himself captain, and you were going to remind him that he was only a captain in name and that you weren't going to listen to him.

You told Curly about what you were going to do. You felt obligated to tell him everything, even though you knew he couldn't answer you even if he wanted to. All you could do was promise him that you'd take care of everyone else, and you wouldn't let Jimmy do anything stupid.

You came to the lounge where everyone else was. Anya saw a smile on your face, which looked frankly suspicious, given your gloomy mood lately, but she kept silent, hoping that nothing terrible would happen.

"Jimmy!"

He frowned at you, not expecting you to come to him with such a pleased expression on your face. You looked like a cat that secretly got to the canary.

"What do you want?"

"I have a gift for you!"

Your words seemed to the others more and more strange and unexpected. Jimmy came up to you, looking at you suspiciously.

"A gift?"

"That's right"

You kept smiling, but the next second you punched him in the face with all your might. Jimmy fell to the floor in surprise, while the others looked at you two in shock. You kept smiling, and for a second Anya even thought you were crazy after all. But now your mind was completely clear. You fully understood what you were doing and you weren't going to regret it no matter what.

"Congratulations on your new position, Jimmy!"

[punsmaster69]

14/JAN/20XX

"MK, dude. You're gonna kill him."

frisk picked up their kickball that's narrowly missed me enough times to make me reconsider my seating.

"Sorry, Sans."

"Should we move this somewhere else?"

"Your back yard has more space, right?"

"Yeah. Race you there!"

"On the count of three."

"You can count!"

frisk inhaled...

"Okaythreetwoonego-"

darting instantly around the back of the house.

"Wai- Frisk, that's not fair!!"

clearly caught of guard, monster kid gave chase.

"......."

"You're just gonna watch them leave?"

"i'll get up in a sec."

"Gee, some kind of babysitter you are."

"like i said, i'll get up in a sec."

"besides, this isn't technically babysitting."

"How is it not?"

"not my job."

"Didn't Toriel put you up to this or something?"

"nope."

"Why are you even here?!"

"bored."

"Don't you have anyone else to bug?"

"nope."

"Papyrus?"

"working with asgore. doin' ambassador stuff."

"Alphys?"

"on a date with undyne."

"Grillby?"

"bothered him enough yesterday."

"You could go work for once. Pay him back."

an unusual amount of exhaustion slows my every movement today. not the lazy slow i've typically got; slow like sludge.

i blame it on the dog that wouldn't stop rifling through everything in my room. normally i'd kick it out, but then it'd go bug papyrus. knowing ahead of time he'd be busy today, i'd let it annoy me for the night.

"i'm bored, but i'm not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 bored."

"Lazy ass."

"the rest of me's lazy too, y'know."

grabbed his pot and carried it with me to the back porch with me. i was met with a frankly surprising lack of complaints, his scowl being the extent of it.

he ignored my reply.

"Fine. Not Grillby, not Papyrus, not Alphys..."

"Don't you hang out with Napstablook sometimes?"

"yeah."

"Why not them?"

"they're with mtt. calling mew, i think."

"...How's she doing?"

"𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 wondering how someone's doing?"

"feelin' alright, bud?"

"Shut up. I'm only asking because she's tolerable compared to a lot of you."

"I relate to her constant rage, on some level."

"last i heard, the idol stuff was going well."

"Getting paid to do nothing but look good..."

"I'd say it sounds like easy cash, but I know 𝘆𝗼𝘂 couldn't do it."

"i do plenty of nothing."

"The looking good part."

"you'd be surprised at how low standards are these days."

"Yours specifically?"

"That's no shock. Your jacket's got a stain on it RIGHT there."

"eh."

"When's the last time you washed that thing?"

"at least sometime last month."

"Eugh!"

"I'm surprised you don't smell like anything worse than ketchup."

"my lack of body with which to produce odor contributes to that."

"......."

"you totally stink though."

"I don't have a body either, idiot!"

"got the odor though."

"I don't sm- HEY!!!"

the kickball slammed against the railing flowey was on, giving him a good shake.

"WATCH IT!"

"Frisk, dude. You're gonna kill him."

mocking tonality, soon broken with giggling.

frisk punched them in the shoulder before running back in the yard to receive the kick from monster kid.

"Both of them need to get better."

"at playing?"

"Whatever game that is."

"why don't you go play with 'em?"

the incredulous look he gave me was expected.

"Because I don't have limbs??"

"so you'd play if you could."

"No! It looks boring."

"yet you watch them play."

"Watching is different!"

"watching is looks."

"and you said it looks boring."

"Shut it, herd."

"nope."

knowing full well that i was letting myself be lulled by the sun and gentle breeze into a nap, right there in tori's porch chair.

[iliiuan]

I'm to the point where Gawyn actually makes a decision, and a lot of the criticism he receives seems misplaced to me. He makes shit choices because he has shit information because the women he trusts to provide him with information refuse to communicate. Elayne, then Siuan, and then Egwene all misused him.

He followed Elayne to Tar Valon and undertook his training there, doing his duty without complaint. Then his sister vanished. His mom freaked out. He worried, and also BLAMED HIMSELF.

When Elayne returned, I don't remember if she even bothered to say 'hi' in his direction before running off again. Now he's really worried. Siuan won't tell him anything. Min won't tell him anything. He's trying to keep Morgase from blowing a gasket. Galad's joining the Whitecloaks. And then... there's a coup. Siuan, having given him exactly zero reason to trust or back her, he knew Elaida as a respected advisor, and he thought that her ascent was legal. He also thought that he would be able to get the information he wanted out of Siuan. All of this makes sense.

Then he stumbles. The change in Amyrlin doesn't fix his problems. He still doesn't know where his sister is. He lets Min rescue Siuan (and Leane and Logain). I don't remember his reasoning, probably because it wasn't very good. This particular point was all him.

Now he has his Younglings, and Elaida wants him disappeared, and he's sent on the mission to scoop up the Dragon Reborn for Elaida. He's heard rumor that Rand murdered his mom, maybe his sister as well, and he has a bloodlust for revenge. All of this is really reasonable, frankly. Then he runs into Egwene.

Egwene has the power to divert Gawyn from his path of doom, but she instead chooses to ignore him (in the political sense) and withhold information from him, while also sort of using him as a spy but not very well. Instead of using her rather impressive people skills to push him onto a healthy path, she uses him for some snogging and makes him promise not to harm the person who is supposed to save the world. She doesn't tell him where Elayne is. She doesn't give him any evidence about Morgase beyond being a character witness for Rand. She doesn't explain about the fractured tower, nor emphasize her allegiance to the rebel faction. She makes no effort whatsoever to sway him to her side, to even try to convince him to abandon Elaida. She doesn't even respect him enough to read him in as a spy for her. She also seems to think that a low-level soldier will be able to protect Rand from Aes Sedai. You know the ones, the women who can channel? Yeah. Not fucking likely.

So off he goes, swimming with his misperceptions, making ever more desperate decisions, experiencing increasing trauma and stress, until he finally comes to his senses and seeks out Egwene's side.

What I'm really trying to emphasize here is that Egwene could have had him on her side beginning in Cairhien, but she couldn't be arsed.

So when he goes back to her, and people criticize her for being with his loser self, my heart deflates a little. He deserves so much better. Even if he is a loser.

I also find the claim that Gawyn exemplifies toxic masculinity to be backwards. If anything, Elayne and Egwene are the ones displaying the traits usually associated with toxic masculinity: arrogance, withholding information or training, refusing help and then being upset when the helper isn't around, seeing the opposite sex as deficient (this one is only Egwene), acting invincible/infallible, not listening to good advice because of the gender of the person giving it ... you see? Don't be fooled by his masculine-coded job of bodyguard; everything else about the gender roles in his world are reversed from ours. He has a prescribed support role, and when he can't fulfill it, he becomes lost. He doesn't get to determine his destiny, so he doesn't train in how to make life decisions, but rather in how to follow orders and to walk his prescribed path.

So much about Gawyn's journey matches with the experience of women in our world who were raised and trained to be homemakers, but then had to claw their way out of abusive relationships, or find meaning after infertility, or push forward as a single parent after being abandoned by a husband or family.

So yeah, I have a really difficult time accepting a lot of the scorn he gets, especially from supposedly feminist critique.

[kurtty-drabbles]

Hello Mun, I'd like to apologize beforehand for this rant because the Gargoyles' fan in me will not take the slander that is to even compare Mystique with Demona while willingly choosing to defend the blue origins retcon that couldn't further set them apart as characters : Demona is an understandably sympathetic character who doesn't get woobified by any writers for her self-destructive actions while Mystique is by most of them and it is done so badly through the most cowardly means possible : Scapegoating, revision, prophecy and blame-shifting. Destiny is equally at the receiving end of this but she is put on a pedestal for it.

I quite frankly am sick and fucking tired of this fandom going along with what Destiny said and showed in the vision in regards to Azazel to justify her actions and the retcon... I am sick and tired because everything about this vision is false and has canon evidence of it being false.

The Bamfs in the vision can't exist without Nightcrawler. Azazel only got them after being stopped once and Nightcrawler dying. HOW TF ARE THEY EVEN THERE ?

The Scarlet Witch, Doom, Jean Grey, ... being defeated by AZAZEL.

The bit where a takeover will happen unless Nightcrawler exists when there are no takeovers in the worlds where Nightcrawler is dead. SPURRIER, IT'S NIGHTCRAWLER THAT'S NEEDED FOR THEM.

Everyone points back to Azazel's first canonical appearance as a "Gotcha!" moment while I point at Destiny and Mystique's in X-Men to show them be responsible for the death of all mutants including Nightcrawler. NIGHTCRAWLER WOULD BE DEAD BEFORE BEING USED FOR ANY TAKEOVER STOPPING TO TAKE PLACE BECAUSE OF THE VERY PEOPLE WHO CONCEIVED HIM FOR THE TASK.

The reality is that the retcon needed a scapegoat and Azazel was there. The reality is that that the retcon needed a scapegoat and Margali was there too. BECAUSE TERRORISTS NEED TO BE PROTECTED.

The reality is that Mystique was intimate with him and could have shot him anytime. IT WOULD HAVE TAKEN ONE BULLET TO GET THE JOB DONE INSTEAD OF A WHOLE ASS SUFFERING MAN.

The reality is that an X-Gene nullifying collar would have been enough to lock him in jail for good. BECAUSE HE IS A MUTANT WITH MUTANT SPECIFIC WEAKNESSES AND SOME MORE LIKE WARREN'S BLOOD.

There's no justifying Destiny's actions because that baby wasn't fucking needed if a look alike was what was actually required. DESTINY, USE THE SHAPESHIFTING SUCCUBUS YOU PIMP.

There's no justifying Destiny's actions because there are 616 aus where he was raised from birth by Mystique, there's even one where he was raised by both and Destiny let him die. AGE OF APOCALYPSE AND CHILDREN IN THE ATTIC ARE STRONG ENOUGH EVIDENCE AND MYSTIQUE MET AOA NIGHTCRAWLER.

You heard of selecting hearing ? Get ready for selective reading because this fandom get a fact wrong each and every time. Azazel taking over the world while it fell into destruction wasn't what motivated Destiny to stop him by conceiving Nightcrawler, it was the fact Mystique and her wouldn't be together anymore. DESTINY ALWAYS DIES LONG BEFORE ANY TAKEOVERS. DESTINY DIES BEFORE THE EVENTS LEADING TO AOA EVEN. OLD AGE WOULD KILL HER BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE SINCE SHE'S 120+.

Their entire bio family reveal with this man-baby wasn't needed since Mystique and Destiny canonically picked Rogue because she would have one day become the strongest mutant to ever live... How can the strongest mutant to ever live not be able to defeat Azazel ?

Simple if the writer knows nothing about Rogue, about Mystique, about Destiny, about Azazel, about Nightcrawler, ... It's simple when you remember Spurrier is the writer who knows nothing about most X-Men characters and ONLY his OCs.

And Marvel Comics CAN'T EVEN ALLOW GOOD DRAMA TO RISE FROM THE RETCON :

Destiny uses the excuse of 'love' after everything she put Mystique through that RIVALS what Azazel put her through and is forgiven in one panel by Mystique and gets to renew her vows to her. Destiny uses the excuse of 'love' to justify abandoning him when he was literally conceived to be canon fodder, was forgotten about completely by her beyond notes, wasn't thought about for a good decade before she got a memory wipe, left him specifically in an abusive, harsh and terrible environment to forcefully conditioned to be good, ... and is forgiven right away by Nightcrawler. THEN SHE DITCHED HIM AGAIN TO GO OFF WITH MYSTIQUE IN THE SUNSET. Everyone is fine with this, even though Destiny never actually apologized.

Mystique is retconned into a passive victim, a succubus, a tool, an idiot, ... Just so Nightcrawler pities her enough to believe her new take on his origins. He forgives her right away, hugs her and says her son will never leave her... THEN SHE DITCHED HIM AGAIN TO GO OFF WITH DESTINY IN THE SUNSET. Everyone is fine with this, even though Mystique never actually apologized.

Rogue is retconned into a replacement child with all her grooming, mistreatment, indoctrination, abuse, ... Being brushed under the rug so a wholesome family picnic can happen and she is fine with that.

Margali is turned into the greatest imposter in Nightcrawler's life and could be a source of conflict seeing how she was this big bad who kept him away from his loving parents this whole time (even though that was probably part of the deal with Destiny, which makes Irene the one who's actually the problem here)... She is killed before the retcon on two separate occasions.

Azazel became the ultimate foe against Nightcrawler, the ultimate evil. Nowadays, this is a once in a lifetime gem writing wise for comics : A perpetual villain for a superhero who isn't aware of the hero's prophecy... He gets killed while being part of a superhero team right after the retcon by someone who's not even tied to any prophecy.

Spurrier makes the Draco look like a fucking good retcon because at least the Draco doesn't make Azazel into a 'good guy, lover and parent all along actually'.

That's the treatment Destiny got in Spurrier's retcon and every spin-off from it.

That's how the fandom treats her because Marvel keeps the dark and sickening implications and truths behind a lock and key to protect her and sell a wedding special issue where everyone celebrates her and her victim.

I've had it over here with those brainwashed buffoons using 'Destiny's vision this and that' to justify anything and include 'if it happened to me' bs because there's zero subtlety here about how much the writers take it as a no brainer for Destiny and Mystique to be the unsung heroes of all X-Men that can do no wrong and if Nightcrawler's fine with this then so should we all be (just like with the incest I guess) : A literal nazi was invited to Mystique and Destiny's wedding and gave them gifts ? Nightcrawler (German/Austrian through retcon) is fine with this. A mutant's physical mutation tied to his mutant race is called ugly and disgusting by another mutant in a setting where mutants are used as a metaphor for minorities ? Nightcrawler (has the same physical mutant) is fine with this because Mystique (woman he shares a skin colour with and just soo upset at him for not being born a girl) says he's perfect in comparison for some reason.

Literal and metaphorical bigotry mean jack as long as a shit prophecy tells you you're in the right always, your abusive pimp is the best thing that can happen to you and your willing amnesia induced deadbeat parents tell you they love you before ditching you again... Everything is fair game and the fandom should rejoice. After all,

The ones who are really at fault here are a PoC woman (Margali) and a metaphorical PoC man (Azazel). We can scapegoat them for anything since they don't know real persecution or discrimination compared to two rich white women, one of whom can look like any important man and get off more scot-free with anything, who spent their lives being selfish criminals and pretending to be other people to steal their lives away while not caring once about the metaphorical minority group they were a part of and dooming them more than once.

Hi nonny

I have a small theory that the fans dont really want to dive in into the history of raven and destiny. They heard there was queer subtext between them and were like "gay! Cool" and start to project this nice family dinamic between Rogue, Kurt and the ship bc well queer characters can't be evil...that would be homophobic (there a fine line in making the only queer character the worst person on earth and "I refuse to see any flaws in this particular character")

People don't want to admit how....Destiny is a nazi.

Again, she doesn't make the hail Hitler, she doesn't wear the uniform but her ideas are aligned to Nazism.

Raven doomed mutants and her own son for ...lols, no wait, she did all to save Rogue...her daughter. Never Kurt. We never saw rogue and Kurt talk about that.

Guys

White gays

Raven and Destiny don't care for Kurt in the past.

They dont care now.

You all wanted this retcon for family feels and...to this day there no family feels.

You want to protect this Nazi couple but throw a PoC woman under the bus.

[weirdestbooks]

Secrecy and Deception Chapter 47

Tear Down the Wall  (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

Event: East Germany allows unrestricted migration to West Germany

Location: Berlin, German Democratic Republic

Date: November 9, 1989

Bezirk Potsdam hadn't believed it when he first heard. It seemed like an impossible dream. After so long of the government killing anyone who tried to cross the wall, the idea that they would willingly let them all through it seemed impossible.

If Potsdam had known this was coming, known that he would have had the chance to see his daughter again, he would have contacted Cottbus and Frankfurt, asking them to spend the week with him so he could take them to see their sister.

None of them had seen Allied Control Council in a very long time.

Potsdam would have invited Berlin, the only one of his children that hadn't met Allied Control Council, but the Stasi watched her closely, and even if the government was allowing them to travel to West Berlin…Potsdam wasn't sure if they would approve of Berlin leaving.

He didn't want to put Berlin in any danger.

While Potsdam primarily lived in the city that gave him his name, he had, by a stroke of luck, been in Berlin visiting his daughter when the news was broadcast.

Before, he might have called it an act of God. After everything that had happened this century, it had become hard to believe that a merciful god could be out there. The government promoting atheism for their countryhumans and banning them from going to church had certainly helped spur that belief.

Potsdam had been quick to make his way down to the wall, unable to help his growing anxiety that this would anger the Stasi and cause things to get worse.

But he couldn't help it. Potsdam needed to see his daughter again. He knew it would fuel the beliefs his government held about him, the ideas that had him closely watched by the Stasi for almost a decade after the wall first went up until they eventually decided he was loyal and cut back on the surveillance.

Only cut back. It had never stopped.

If you were a countryhuman in East Germany, you were watched. That was a fact of life. But frankly, sometimes it was a little hard for Potsdam to care. After all, the government had opened the wall. If Potsdam only stayed for a little while, hopefully, he could avoid any… serious repercussions.

But when he got to the wall, none of the border crossings were opened.

Pulling his wings close to him, nerves only increasing, Potsdam turned to the person beside him.

"What's happening?" Potsdam asked. "I thought Günter Schabowski said that the border was opening."

"He did. I don't know why it's not open," the woman beside him said, angry shouts coming from the front of the crowd as people yelled for the border to be opened as they were promised.

Considering they were yelling at the same guards that had murdered their countrymen for wanting a better life, Potsdam wasn't sure this was going to end well, and the tension in his body only got worse.

As more people arrived and the tension in the air grew, Potsdam noticed the looks he was getting, being the only countryhuman in the crowd.

Despite Germany and Berlin both living in the city, they had yet to arrive.

Not that Potsdam could blame them. The government had them on a much shorter leash than the berziks, and if either of them had tried to show up…Potsdam was sure their limited power would be limited further.

Not to mention how…downtrodden East Germany was on the best of days.

She had lost her fighting spirit a long time ago.

Potsdam couldn't blame her.

Then, the border opened, and people began rushing through. Much to Potsdam's surprise, no one's passport or identity was being checked, as if the crowd had become too much, and the government just wanted them all to get through.

Potsdam let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. The border was open.

After twenty-eight years, the border was open.

And crossing over into West Berlin was…so different.

The thing that stood in the most contrast was the wall.

Back in Germany, it had been a symbol of death, a reminder to Potsdam and the other countryhumans that they were trapped in their country (well, the communist bloc, but it was to the same effect when the government had banned that one Soviet magazine after Soviet had begun his reforms).hat

In West Berlin, the wall was covered in graffiti. No guards, no death strip, just a wall that separated the city, a reminder of what the country—the government of the country—that surrounded them was like.

Something about seeing that graffitied wall made something in Potsdam's chest hurt.

Why had this wall been so important to the government?

Potsdam knew he should be looking for his daughter, but it was almost like he was entranced by the way people from both halves of Berlin came together, the way it felt as if an invisible weight had been taken from his shoulders.

Some days, Potsdam had thought he would never see the end of the wall.

With the border now open, he knew he was going to see it, as there was no way tha—were those people climbing onto the wall?

Potsdam did a small double take, stamping down the instinctive fear that came from seeing that, as he knew the guards were not going to shoot anyone, not today, but…people were climbing on the wall.

From this side, it felt less like a symbol of death and oppression. It was just a wall, albeit a divisive one.

Knowing that he might not have another chance to visit West Berlin, not if the government had its say, not if Potsdam had angered them enough, Potsdam walked to the base of the wall and climbed up.

It was too crowded to even attempt flying to the top.

Potsdam could see the looks he was getting, but he didn't care. He had learned long ago to make the best of what he had, and he was doing that right now.

From the top of the wall, the difference between the two sides seemed all the more stark.

The halves of Berlin looked as if they were different cities—not two halves of a whole, but two cities that had just happened to come together.

Berlin had been his capital, his heart, for so many years, so long ago. It was familiar to Potsdam, and he knew it well, having lived there for hundreds of years.

Both sides seemed unfamiliar now.

It was strange how things could change.

Not wanting to get caught up in his past and reflecting on what had been, Potsdam got off the wall and set off to find his daughter.

Although West Berlin had changed, Potsdam was still able to find her old home. While he wasn't sure if she was in Bonn or West Berlin, at least this would tell him, and Potsdam was sure he could find some paper to leave a message on.

Potsdam knocked on the door, waiting for an answer, waiting to see his daughter again after twenty-eight long years. There was a smile on his face and nervous, hopeful excitement in his chest.

All those feelings came crashing down in an instant when the person who answered the door wasn't his daughter. If she was in Bonn, no one would be in her house. But…

"Can I help you?" the human asked. Potsdam stared at the man in shock for a few moments before coming to his senses.

"I was looking for my daughter. She lived here before the wall went up. Do you know where she is now?" Potsdam asked. He hadn't expected things to stay the same after the wall went up, after he and his family, and all the other East Germany berziks remained trapped in their country under the ever-tightening noose of their government, but…

The world had passed by without them. It hurt, even though Potsdam had known it was inevitable.

"I don't, I'm sorry. I bought this place ten years ago, and it was owned by a man living by himself before me," the human said. Potsdam swallowed, ignoring the feeling growing in his gut.

"Thank you," Potsdam said before turning to leave, walking back to the street and sitting on the edge of the road, putting his head in his hands.

Was Allied Control Council dead?

Potsdam knew she had lived past the day she was supposed to, knew that she had been living for far longer than anyone expected, even with her inability to function due to the Soviet Union.

Potsdam had expected to be informed when she passed. But had his government kept that secret from him because they didn't want him thinking about the family he had on the other side of the wall, the family that he shared with America, who they hated so much?

Had his daughter died, and he hadn't known, hadn't been able to attend her funeral?

Potsdam didn't know.

And he didn't know how he was meant to get answers. He couldn't talk to West Germany or America, not without getting the Stasi to target him and Potsdam…he didn't want them to be any more aware of him than they already were.

Although Potsdam was protected from them a little by being a statehuman…well, he knew the government wanted their loyalty and didn't care if they had to force it.

Potsdam sighed. Even with the wall slowly disappearing, he still felt trapped in the bindings and hands of the German government.

Potsdam stood up, watching as people from both halves of Berlin celebrated. Potsdam smiled. At least it wasn't all bad.

Hopefully, some of the people would know what happened to Allied Control Council.

But considering how obscure she was in life, Potsdam didn't know if anyone would remember her in death.

[lenna-z]

Hi! I started working in a cafe two weeks ago for the summer, my days are pretty busy... I can't predict how often updates will be after that... I really want to finish a multi-chapter fic though, so I'll push it!

I hope you will like it! I would love to know what you think 💜

Chap.1 | Chap.2

What Happened There?

Chap. 3: Family

Gordon didn't even question how he found the hospital.

The man's daughter was the best at her job right now. Given the things his sister did, and the fact that her mentor was her father... No, he wouldn't question it.

But really, how did he know she is in this hospital?

Of course, this question was asked of him when he arrived.

He said he had sources.

And he told Scott not to feel sorry for not contacting him.

And he apologized. For not coming sooner. Because he wasn't sure if it was because of him.

As in their childhood, his enemies were still a threat to them. But especially Kayo. That's why she had come to the Island.

And that's why he had left them after their father's accident.

At that time, only they knew what Kayo had been through. She acted fine at first, but it was definitely not working.

Finally, Virgil and himself found her destroying the punching bag.

Kyrano was a good man at heart, but he didn't think he could forgive him for that.

They were still in the same place waiting for a doctor, a nurse, or anyone else to show up.

Frankly, Gordon had forgotten how long they had been here.

Still, if no one was coming out, his sister was still alive.

And she will be fine.

Maybe he should get some air. And coffee.

He started walking towards the elevator, muttering something about getting air and coffee.

One of the guards, who had been shadowing them everywhere, started to follow him.

They were here to protect them, he knew that. And it was Kayo's job to protect them, and she took her job very seriously. Even if she wasn't here, she had found a way to protect them...

○○○○○○

Getting some air and coffee sounded great, but the urge to go with Gordon was instantly blown away.

He should have been here, he should have learned that she was fine, should have stayed with her.

He had convinced himself that she would be fine but... the rhythmic sound that had made Virgil begging to Kay for open her eyes had stopped...

They had taken her to a room on a stretcher, and Virgil didn't know how long he had just stood there, but someone had finally put him on the elevator.

The man's lips were moving, and even though the only sound he heard was a steady beep, he should be able to lip-read, yet he couldn't do more than just stare.

The beep sound...

"Is- is she d-dead?"

Although he tried to listen to the man, he couldn't hear him and couldn't understand him, what if he had already told him she was dead...

What if she's already dead?

He tried to understand what the other man was saying as the voice slowly drifted away from his head.

"...took a few minutes to get her back, Mr. Tracy. They will inform you if anything happens during the surgery."

And the man had left him in the waiting room. Now to where the whole family is.

He had already left here because of unnecessary bandages, He would not leave again.

So he glanced at Gordon, who was walking towards the elevator with his Shadow behind him.

'Shadow' reminded him of Kayo.

Six bodyguards and one person looked like the head of that team.

They followed them from a safe distance wherever they went, truly like a shadow.

Virgil would continue to call them shadows.

He had seen the person he thought was the head of the team before. He had seen Kayo talking to her at events. Also, she could be Kayo's friend.

Still, there was no change of emotion on her face. And she never spoke, except for essential things.

And no one had said anything, especially since Kyrano had arrived.

Kyrano himself was a complete mystery anyway, but no one could blame him for being here in a situation like this.

When Kyrano was asked questions, he had been able to look him in the eyes and see nothing but an angry father, without attracting his attention.

From that moment on, he couldn't look at him, even if he wanted to.

Seeing her father's shattered eyes, before he could forgive himself, only increased his anger at himself.

Kayo was attached to her father. No matter how upset she was , when he left the island, she had sought him all over the world.

And a part of him was offended by Kyrano, but- now wasn't the time for that.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her that way.

They couldn't lose her too.

They couldn't lose anyone.

But her heart had stopped.

When he looked around, Scott's migraine had clearly not gotten better, he was leaning forward in the chair while holding his head with one hand., Alan was curled up around John's waist, who clearly hadn't slept in a long time, Grandma... was she crying silently?

She was sitting in a distant hospital chair with her back to them.

It was obvious she was trying not to show it, but when she paid attention, it was obvious that she was trembling.

He slowly walked towards her. "Grandma?"

She sniffed quickly, he didn't miss the fact that she was wiping her eyes with her hands.

"I'm fine, honey. Just-"

"We are here, Grandma. You don't need to take them all." He sat next to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Look who's telling me. Virgil, you were there with her, you brought her here, and we can't imagine what you've been through, but you can tell us."

He continued to listen as he had nothing to say.

"Scott doesn't say anything because he always thinks it's the one who should take responsibility." She took a breath and continued. "John blames herself because he sent her there. Gordon isn't in his usual fun and Alan is thinking- ...the worst."

He wanted to tell her that she would be fine.

But he didn't know that. What if they lose her..?

"What if she can't..." He swallowed. He couldn't think of that while she was still fighting there.

She was fighting. Her heart had stopped, but she had chosen to fight again.

"Virgil. I can't tell you what you want to hear, honey." She swallowed as she wiped her tears. "But she's a fighter, you know that."

He grinned when he heard what he had just thought. "Yes, she is."

"Can you... tell me what her wounds are?"

He nodded as if he had received an order.

"One in the part of the liver, the other in the abdomen. I'm afraid it hit the abdominal aorta... I don't think it was completely damaged because then... "

She would probably already be dead.

He wouldn't have said this if grandma didn't have a medical background, but he needed someone to understand him.

And the grandma looked at him with eyes that understood.

"I'm sure you did the right thing there, dear. And you're probably right, so, you got to her on time. Scott is right, we wouldn't be here if you were late."

If he hadn't heard Gordon's pointless shout at that moment, he would have given Grandma a big hug of thanks.

○○○○○○

"...So Kayo was always like that, Carl. In the family, her name means security. She often put herself in danger to protect us."

Carl Howard. He was the one Kayo had assigned to protect himself.

He said that every single bodyguard below was assigned to protect a brother and grandma. And the head of them all, Amethyst Powell.

He had learned everyone's name, but she was the most remarkable person.

During their few minutes of conversation with Carl, he had the impression that Mrs. Powell was someone like Kayo.

Although Carl didn't show it on the outside, he was a fun person on the inside.

He didn't prefer to use his last name.

It started out as a small talk, but as he walked in to get everyone coffee, Carl told him how he had joked with Kayo that there was an emergency.

The joke finally ended with Kayo getting wet, and no matter how angry she was, she still literally protected him on the actual mission that same day.

And then Gordon told him about his joke about making Kayo think he jumped into a shark-filled pool.

They were returning to the elevator with as much coffee as they could carry from the vending machine at the entrance.

Just then, he saw Colonel Casey and a few others with her.

He involuntarily frowned.

"Colonel Casey? What brings you here?"

She turned to him with a sudden movement.

"Gordon. How lucky to find you here. I need to talk to Scott as soon as possible." Her voice was very daring.

No. His sister was in surgery, and no matter how quickly he wanted to get there, he had every right to be angry, right?

"Of course. You can talk to Scott after you tell me why."

"Gordon, I really can't-" Her voice was calmer this time, good.

"So?"

"This conversation is none of your business." One of the men next to her spoke as he was passing by a doctor. "I know where they are, Colonel. We no longer need Mr. Tracy for this."

He had dropped the coffees he was holding on the floor - in fact, it could be said that he threw it on purpose - but he paid for them. So... it shouldn't matter, right?

Coffee had spilled on some of his newly bought shoes and his pant, but he didn't care.

There were other things he cared about, like his sister... like family...

"Oh no. It's my sister who's in surgery here, and also the person you're trying to accuse is my sister. So you're wrong, that interests me."

And while he was waiting for an answer from Casey, the man he hadn't liked all along interrupted again.

"No one is trying to accuse anyone, we're just following the evidence."

He wanted to piss him off even more. He wouldn't allow it.

"Would you like to clear this up in the middle of the whole hospital, Mr. Tracy? Do you want to be investigate-?"

"Gordon, that's enough. Please." Casey's familiar voice was more pronounced this time.

He didn't reply, Colonel Casey wouldn't have done that if she didn't have to, he was sure of it.

○○○○○○

Expressing his displeasure, he began to walk towards the elevator.

His silence lasted until he learned the real purpose of their coming here.

As far as I remember medical information, I read it on reddit... but it's been a long time. I couldn't find my source even though I thought I saved it somewhere...

Really any mistakes; medical information, grammatical mistakes or anything else, it's all my own.

[kandadiff]

Marsha was a very skinny woman with pin-straight red dark red hair, a serious face that you've only seen smile maybe a handful of times and a posh British accent. She was Robin's other assistant and frankly a very good one. She was no-nonsense and you knew Robin trusted her with more things then he did you, you didn't mind of course. She handled the important documents and work and you did the more fun things.

But occasionally when she became a bit overwhelmed, you helped her. This was one of those times and you had messed it up and it was a big mess up.

"Sir." She called after Robin as he walked back towards his office. He looked towards your desk seeing it was empty then at Marsha. "She had to take a phone call. But I need to talk to you." Marsha said holding a few files and standing up. He nodded and moved over to her desk. "I had a lot to do yesterday so I asked Arianna for help," Robin nodded. "I asked her to wire the hundred grand to Knoxville Caterers to pay for the machine parts." Robin nodded and she pulled out a slip. "She sent it to Johnny Knoxville's patreon page."

"She what?!" Robin grabbed the slip seeing the proof in her hand.

"I tried to cancel the wire but I couldn't. So I just paid right people and waited for you to see what you'd like me to do." She said and he sighed. He couldn't blame Marsha for this, being his assistant was hard which is why he wanted two of them and hired you. That was before he got romantic with you... but you just cost the company a hundred thousand dollars.

"Consider the money a wash and put it down under charity for our taxes." He said and she nodded. He had to talk to you and was dreading it. "when she comes back, tell her to see me." Marsha nodded and he walked back into his office dreading the conversation.

~~~

You were both horrified and pissed as you listened to your sister describe her encounter with her boyfriend. She was trying to stay strong but you could tell she was holding on by a thread.

"Where are you now?" You asked heading back to the office. You had to go to her, Robin would understand right? He had too, your sister just got a gun pulled on her from her boyfriend.

"I went to a hotel." Maddy sniffled. "I'm in the fucking spa right now."

"You can't live in a hotel." You sighed thinking of a place she could stay.

"Were else am I supposed to go? I'm not staying with him after he did that!"

You sighed and made your way back to his office. "I'm coming down there, just answer my call when I call you back okay." You heard her mumble an agreement. "Okay, love you."

"Love you too." She said and you hung up. You looked over at Marsha.

"Is he in there?" you asked and she nodded motioning for you to go inside.

You walked into his office, closing the door behind you and took a seat in the chairs across from his desk. He was on the phone and glanced up at you before holding his hand up. He said a few more words then said goodbye and hung up. You fixed your hair and leaned on the desk "I need to talk to you." He nodded "I need a few days or weeks off."

"Weeks?"

"My sister needs me." You sigh and tell him about Nate and Maddy. His eyes go wide when he hears it but hes not truly shocked. He knew about Nate and knew one day he'd pull something like that. He reaches in his drawer pulling out a book of maps and studies it for a few. "We have a few apartment buildings down there, take this one." He pointed at the map to a building called The Huntington. "Take the penthouse. If you need money go to Slaughter. Its the club my family owns." The way he said it made it seem like he didn't want you there. "Tell J to give you the money, I'll talk to him about it. Matter-of-fact, no." He circled another area with his finger a short car ride away from the building he said you can stay at. "Head to Paradise Casino. Kay should still work there, get the money from her."

"I don't want to rely on you for money." you sighed leaning back. You did have some saved and if he was going to give you a place to stay that was more then enough. You didn't want to take anymore money from him.

"Adi, its okay. I want you to be okay there, I can't go with you. I have to stay here." Part of him was secretly relieved you'd be leaving now he can try and fix this missing 100 thousand dollar problem. The other part of him dreaded her being there. He didn't trust Nate but his only saving grace was that Maddy lived in the same city as I did, meaning not only was I down there but Rhea was as well and too a lesser extent so was J but he trusted J as much as people trust a scorpion.

"I know but I still don't want to take the money, you're giving me enough. I'll have some money and I'll get a job-"

"Adi." Robin growled. "Enough, just head to the casino and get the money."

"Robin, I want a job. And Maddy needs one too. Like, she relies to much on her boyfriend and look now shes spending her saved money on a hotel because of what he did-"

"You think I'm like Nate?" He cocks an eyebrow. "That I'll hold what I give you over you?"

"No." you sigh. "I'm saying, Maddy looks up to me and I am her older sister, she needs to see that she needs to rely on herself. Like me. But I can't do that if you're giving me money. It's enough you're letting us stay in a penthouse."

He sighs and nods annoyed but impressed at her logic. "Fine, when are you leaving?"

"Today?" you said softly gauging his reaction.

"You got tickets?" He asked and you shook your head. He stood up walking over to you and pulled out his wallet, handing you his credit card. You give him a look and he sighs "Take it. Buy yourself a ticket and keep it for emergencies. This is non-negotiable." You took the credit card and leaned up to kiss him. He kissed you back and for a moment you two just stood there kissing in his office until there was a curt knock on the door. He sighed and pulled back, turning back to his desk. "Come in." He called and Marsha walked in with a pile of files in his hand.

She nodded at you, without a smile but you were used to it. Marsha was always so serious, you never even got a smile out of her. "I just need you to sign these." He nodded and she moved over to him placing the files on his desk.

He started to sign the papers and looked up at you. "You should head to the airport now so it isn't too late when you get there. I'll call the door man and tell him that both of you will be moving in. Call me when you get to the airport and when you land."

You nodded and turn to go out but he calls out to you. Before you can fully turn around you feel his large hand on the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a deep kiss. The kiss goes on for a few moments until Marsha clears her throat and he pulls away. "I'll visit you when I can." He whispers against your lips and you nod. "Be safe, call me if anything."You nod pulling away from him and head out of the office.

~ ~ ~

Technically, I wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow but once I got the text about Maddy. I packed up my suitcase, put on a blonde wig and big sunglasses and drove the way back from Vegas. By the time I got to the airport, you had landed.

"The Huntington is a nice building." I said as we drove, now that we were more of a distance from the populated airport I put the top down as we drove. "I lived in the penthouse for a bit when I first broke up with Negan. And the doormen, they aren't afraid to fight. Nate isn't going to be able to get past them."

You nodded, tired from your flight and Maddy sat in silence in the backseat as we approached the building parking in the parking lot and made our way into the building. I introduced you both to the doorman Arnie, and we headed up to the penthouse.

The penthouse was done in blues, blacks and whites. It was large with two bedrooms in and the windows overlooked the LA skyline. "As you can tell." I say handing you both the keys, "Theo was the last person to live here and decorated it like this. Feel free to change it. Also lets go, we need to get you both a job."

"A job?" Maddy asks looking up at me from the couch surprised. It was clear she didn't expect it but I don't think she knew how she was going to get money anyway. Since moving in with Nate she was basically a stay-at-home girlfriend.

I looked at you and you looked at her. "Yeah, you need to be more independent, Like we are getting this penthouse for free but no one is going to pay for us to live. I know you don't want to work but trust me its for the better." You can't believe you have to explain this to her, sure she is younger than you but not by much.

She sighs and nods you can tell shes unhappy. We head back downstairs to the car and drive the short way to Paradise Casino, you notice Slaughter, the club robin told you J owned, on the way there.

You inwardly smiled when you saw the colors in the casino. It was decked in purples and you had a feeling J wasn't to far away. I pointed out the stage, the bar, the VIP area and the private rooms. I lead you down a hallway among the private rooms until we came to a door marked Private. I walked in seeing a man you didn't recognize, standing there.

"Hey, Murray." I say and he smiles at me. The man is older, maybe in his late 50s. Hes a bit pudgy and swarmy, his eyes leer over the three of us but as soon as he recognizes who it is he looks up at my eyes. You try not to make a face but you exchange a look with Maddy.

"J- isn't here Kay." He says shutting his laptop and getting up.

"I know." I said matter of fact. "These are the girls I called you about."

He looked past me to the both of you and nodded. "Are you sure he said its okay."

"He did." I said simply moving over to the desk and getting you two, two passes for the vip areas. "We need a bartender, a waitress and floor runner right. Well I have two out of the three. He'll be fine with it."

"Um.. okay." she shifted uncomfortably as I motioned for you two to walk out. "I just don't want any problems with J- Miss Kay... I know you and him."

"J entrusted me to find people and I have. Should I call him and tell him you are preventing me from doing that?" I ask looking back at him and he instantly sputtered a 'no.' "Good." I say and walk out the room. "You two, follow me." You and Maddy caught up to me quickly as Murray closed to door to the office as we walked out. "🌶No one here knows who I am or who Rhea is." I whisper as we walk "🌶Im pretty sure half of them think I'm with J or I supply him with stuff, he is the face of the casino everyone here thinks he owns it. I sing here some nights but as far as anyone knows thats why im here. I need to keep it that way." You both nod and I fully turn towards you as we approach the bar. "Adi you'll be the bartender. Maddy you choose waitress or floor runner."

"What is a floor runner?"

"You help the dealers rig some of the games, or distract the players enough so they don't realize what happening. It doesn't come with tips though. Waitress does and people here tip pretty well. Adi you get tips too."

"I guess a floor runner." She smiled "that should be fun."

I grin and nod waving over a few girls. "Lyla and Jade are going to train you, I used to do that here too. Its fun." I introduce the two girls to Maddy and they take her away. I call over, Rachel the current bartender on duty. "Rachel you got help"

Rachel, a girl with thick brown hair and a fluffy pink top moves over to us. "Really?" She doesn't even look at you "Why? Does J think I can't handle this on my own? I'm great at this." She finally looks over at you. "How can she even bartend with those nails. Like she's pretty but maybe she should be a waitress." She says and I grin looking at you waiting for your reaction.

~