#I feel like it goes without saying but just in case they’re aged up in this fic! like young adult

[whatsnewalycat]

RUTHLESS

Stepdad Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 5.1k+

Warnings: DDDNE, literally just a fucked up stepdad/mom's bf fantasy, could read "mom" as tess but I don't name her or assign physical features to her or reader, post-outbreak, reader is def over 18 but not by much so yeah age gap, NON-CONSENSUAL, power imbalance, unethical d/s dynamic, slapping, spanking, punishment, orgasm delay/denial, humiliation, degradation, face fucking, anal sex, little to no aftercare

A/N: Category is "That old man would fucking never... but if he did..." Please be mindful of the warnings and don't read if it might trigger you. Sorry, mom. Sorry, God.

[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]

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Within the secluded world of your big noise-canceling headphones, you scan through silence on the CB radio, pausing for a few seconds on each channel before moving on to the next. 

Channel 11: Nothing. 

Channel 12: Zilch. 

Channel 13: Nada. 

When you turn the dial to channel 14, though, you pick up chatter and start transcribing. 

Channel 14 7/17/22 19:56

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew? Over. 

Got enough for the kids? Over. 

And leftovers. Over. 

I’ll be at Margie’s around supper time. Over and out. 

The air goes silent.

After a minute goes by with no follow up transmissions, you glance at the clock. 7:58. Almost time for check-in. 

You tune the radio to channel 32 and review your transcription. 

Many people speak in code, encrypting their messages in seemingly benign conversations. To the untrained ear, they’re normal exchanges, people making small talk about jobs and rations and kids. Goodnight calls and check-ins that use predictable inquiries to convey messages. 

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew?

Most of it you can translate from memory. The drug traffickers that use channel 14 have frequented the same lingo for years. Likely because of the high turnover rate of personnel. There’s less confusion that way. Confusion in communication raises more alarm bells for eavesdroppers than using the same code words across the board. 

You flip through your cipher for channel 14, searching for budaydas, but find nothing. Scrunching your nose up, you say the word out loud, “Budaydas. Buh-day-das.” 

Carrots, onions, budaydas in a stew. 

“Oh,” you nod in understanding, then jot down your translation, muttering under your breath, “Fucking Boston accents.” 

(Someone) picked up tranquilizers, benzos (budaydas = potatoes), and opioids. The caller wants to meet up and trade as previously agreed. 

The rest of it is easy enough to interpret without the use of a cipher. You probably don’t need to write down the translation, but do it in case your mom or Joel need to reference the notes at a later date. 

There’s enough to distribute product across their network of dealers in Boston QZ, plus more to stockpile. They’ll meet at their hub in Area 1, Margaret St, at midnight. 

You exhale through slack lips, glancing at the clock as it ticks over to 8:00, then pick up the microphone and hold down the speak button. 

“Radio check.” 

A few seconds go by before you hear a familiar gruff voice crackle over the radio waves into your ears, “Loud and clear. Over.”

Your nostrils flare when you hear him. Joel Miller. The bane of your existence. Your de facto stepfather, only because you don’t really remember life without him by your mom’s side. 

This isn’t to say he’s a father figure to you by any means. The two of you never shared the kind of heartwarming paternal bonding moments you read about in books. That would require warmth and vulnerability, which he distinctly lacks. 

Once, when you were maybe 11 or 12, you made the mistake of calling him Dad. The way he looked at you made you feel like dirt. Fire burning behind his dark eyes, he corrected you with one stern syllable that taught you your place: “Joel.” 

You sit up straighter and take a moment to gather yourself before responding. 

“Did you get your message from Uncle Paul? Over.”

“I did. Over.” 

“How’s the weather in Kansas City? Over.” 

“Cloudy. Over.” 

Fuck. 

You swallow around nothing, then clear your throat and ask, “And Grandma, how’s she? Over.”

“Fine, just busy is all.”

You exhale a sigh of relief that melts the tension between your shoulders. Joel continues. 

“Anything new with you? Over.” 

Tapping your fingers on your notes, you answer, “Rumor has it the market is gonna be busy tomorrow. Harvesting time, I guess. Other than that, same old same old. What about you? Staying out of trouble? Over.”

It feels strange, having a casual conversation with him like this. Even if it’s just a data exchange dressed up as a casual conversation. 

There’s a long pause, then he says, “Fine, yeah. Well. See you soon. Over ‘n’ out.” 

Stiff as a board. Cold as ice. Joel Miller, everyone. Round of applause. 

You snort, rolling your eyes as you unplug the headphones and toss them on the table. It takes a moment for you to re-acclimate to your surroundings. 

The dingy two-bedroom apartment is quiet and still. Outside, the setting sun casts the world in a dark golden haze. A FEDRA patrol vehicle roars down the street, broadcasting the curfew alert from a loudspeaker. Faint shouting from a few units down momentarily piques your curiosity before you decide it’s none of your business. 

You stand from the chair and reach your hands above your head, lungs expanding in a powerful yawn, then take a lap around the apartment to stretch your legs. 

Something catches your eye when you walk by the entry. A note slipped under the doorframe. On the outer fold, your name is written in a familiar scrawl. 

Your heart skips a beat. 

You pick it up and unfold the paper, revealing an invitation. 

I miss you. Come over when you’re done surfing the airwaves. XO, Bert. 

Warmth trickles down between your thighs. A smile spreads across your face. You glance up at the door, then to the CB radio and scanner on the desk. 

Indecision churns in your belly. 

You are explicitly forbidden from leaving the apartment while your mom and Joel are out on runs. A safety precaution you’ve protested dozens of times to no avail. They expect you to stay put and warn them if you notice any signs of potential danger. In return, you receive a cut of the profit and a roof over your head. Security, in short. Which is more than most could say. 

That being said… You break this rule from time to time, when the circumstances allow. 

Like when the Fireflies and FEDRA have been quiet for weeks and there are no smoke signals in sight. Like when you’re five nights into a seven day seclusion and think you might die of boredom if you don’t get the fuck out of here. Like when your boyfriend slips a note under the door and asks you to come over. 

You look down at the paper in your hands, re-reading the words I miss you. 

Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? 

—

Just before midnight, you wander down the hallway to your unit, jelly knees wobbling with each step. As you absentmindedly trace your tingling lips, still puffy from kissing, you unlock the door and push it open, then frown. 

The lights are on. 

They were off when you left, you’re sure of it. When you step further into the apartment, your foot catches on something. A backpack. This faint buzzing starts behind your ears as you blink at it, wishing it would go away.

Motherfu—

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

Your stomach plummets to the floor when you hear his voice. A thick knot of panic tightens around your windpipe as you look up to find Joel standing just a few paces away in the living room. 

He stares you down, dark eyes glowing with fury, and questions you again, “Where were you?” 

“N-nowhere.” 

The blatant lie sits sour on your tongue. His lips purse, so you fumble out another, “I went for a walk.” 

“A walk,” he repeats, tone disbelieving, “You went on a walk after curfew wearing that?” 

You look down at your clothing. A short skirt and tank top. Your throat bobs in a guilty gulp, then you meet his eyes again and nod. 

“And when did you leave on this ‘walk?’”

Your mind whirs as you try to come up with an answer. It feels like a trap. You try to calculate an answer that will provide minimal blowback. 

“I don’t know, maybe twenty minutes ago?” 

“Try again.” 

The electricity humming through you takes on a red, frustrated edge, and you snip, “I don’t fucking know, dude. It was a while ago, I wasn’t paying attention. Where’s my mom?” 

“Your mom sent me here to make sure you were alive,” he says pointedly, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, “We’ve been tryin’a reach you for three hours. I got here an hour ago. That’s a helluva lot longer than twenty minutes, ain’t it?” 

Shrinking into yourself, you search his face. Jaw set, eyes boring into yours. Waves of anger roll off him as he approaches, and you remember all those rumors you heard about him on the radio. The fear you heard in grown men’s voices when they recounted run-ins with that bitch and her guard dog. 

You remember what Bert said about him: He’s fucking ruthless.

“You aren’t supposed to leave the apartment when we’re outside the QZ.” 

“I know.” 

“Then why did you?” 

Your heart thuds against your ribcage. 

Joel has never directed this kind of outright anger towards you. Sternness, sure. Contempt, maybe. But this is different. You’re in fucking trouble. 

There has to be a way out of this conversation.

You drop your gaze to the floor and ask, “Is my mom ok? Did something happen to her?”

“Don’t change the subject.” 

Righteous indignation straightens your spine and wills you to meet his eyes again, “I’m not saying shit until you tell me what happened to her.” 

“She sprained her ankle, but she’s fine. She’s safe,” he tells you, then takes another step forward, “Why did you leave?” 

You respond by rolling your eyes. 

“Answer the question.” 

With an irritated sigh, you search his face, then tell him, “You don’t know what it’s like to be here. Isolated for days or weeks at a time. I fucking hate it. It’s so lonely and boring, I feel like I’m losing my mind—”

“Oh, cry me a goddamn river.” 

You scowl at him, staring him down, “Fuck you.” 

“Watch your fucking mouth, you disrespectful little shit.” 

Red flashes through your field of vision, hot and angry and defiant. You gather the moisture in your mouth on your tongue and spit at him. It splats on his cheek. 

His face twists up with fury for one second before he charges, closing the distance between you. The impact pushes your back to the door with a thud. 

He grabs your jaw, fingers digging hard into the soft flesh of your cheeks. His eyes are hot coals, burning into you. The muscles in his jaw twitch, nostrils flaring, breath shaky. 

When he speaks, it’s through gritted teeth, “You don’t know what it’s like out there.” 

“No, because you won’t let me fucking leave—”

“You should be fucking grateful, you know that? Being here is a fucking cake walk. Your mom ‘n’ I have seen things, done things—horrible things you couldn’t even imagine,” he husks, searching your face, grip tightening so hard it makes you whine. “We keep you safe, and all we ask is that you stay put and keep a lookout for us when we’re gone.” 

Even if you wanted to respond, you can’t. The vice grip he has on your face renders your mouth immobile. 

All you can do is stare back at him, studying his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. Full lips pinched thin as he glowers at you. 

You notice how close his broad body is to yours. The heat radiating off his tightly-wound muscles onto your skin. His ragged breath scatters across your face and wafts into your open mouth. You taste the bootleg whiskey on his breath and your pulse jumps. 

Warmth drips down your spine and pools at the center of you, a horrifying sensation that makes you squirm.

“Were you with your little boyfriend? Hmm?” he asks, eyes darting around your face, trailing down to your body for a moment before returning, “That boy downstairs? Figure you musta been, on account of how you’re dressed.” 

You don’t say anything. You can’t. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s not really a question. 

“Abandoning your post to go out and get fucked, is that it?” 

A whimper slips from your throat as heat swells beneath your skin. 

He wouldn’t be treating you like this if your mom was here. He wouldn’t say these things or be this close to you. Knowing this, you understand that whatever is happening right now is wrong. 

You also understand that you like it. 

You hate that you like it, and hate him for making you like it, but you like it all the same. 

Letting go of your face, he demands, “Answer me.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Before you even realize what’s happening, you feel a sharp, hot sting on your cheek and yelp.

He fucking slapped you. 

“Wrong answer.” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you retort, bringing your hand to the welt forming on your cheek, “I’m gonna tell her.” 

“Yeah? You gonna tell her I found you sneaking in at midnight, too? That you compromised our safety to go out ‘n’ get dicked down?” 

You harden your gaze on him, lips pressing together with disdain. 

“She wouldn’t like that, would she?” he asks, the smallest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “She’d probably kick you out on your ass.” 

“She wouldn’t. You guys need me.” 

“And you need us,” he counters, searching your face, “So what do we do to make sure this doesn’t happen again? Hmm?” 

A dozen inappropriate images flash through your head, each more lurid than the last. An electric, tingling feeling shoots out from the base of your spine and works through your extremities. 

You swallow hard and shake your head, “I won’t do it again.” 

“If I don’t punish you, you will. You’re fucking disrespectful. Selfish. You need discipline.” 

Again, a flash of frustration taints the world red. Crossing your arms over your chest, you scoff, “Just because you’re fucking my mom doesn’t mean you’re my dad. I am an adult and you are not the boss of me.” 

He sighs and takes a step back, planting his hands on his hips. His gaze drifts around the empty apartment, jaw gnashing back and forth for a moment before he returns to twist the deadbolt closed and grab your arm. 

“What the f—” you swat at him and dig your heels into the floor, but it does nothing as he drags you by his steel grip, pulling you stumbling along behind him into the living room. 

He sits on the couch and forces you to lay over his bent knees, one big hand securing your wrists behind your back while the other flattens against the swell of your ass cheek. As soon his touch leaves, it returns, a sharp snap tingling across your skin. 

Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe the chaos throbbing through you. 

“You’re right, you’re an adult. And I’m not your dad,” he asserts, lifting his hand. Your whole body clenches in anticipation. “But as long as you live here, I am the fucking boss of you,” he slaps your ass again, “Do you understand me?” 

It surprises you when you hear yourself sob, “I’m sorry—”

He does it again and again, hissing, “Yeah, you’re fucking sorry now, aren’t you?” 

Each firm slap he lays down is firm, unflinching. Ruthless. 

It overwhelms your senses and becomes the only thing you feel. The universe world narrows down to just his palm on your skin. The reliable and exquisite pain ringing through you. Smack. Smack. Smack. 

Every time he draws his hand back, you don’t think you can handle it again. But you do. 

Soon, you start to crave the impact. His skin on your skin. You can’t feel the start or end of it. It’s just him and you. Pain and pleasure. Sobs and moans, all blended together. 

Far away, you hear him chide you for not wearing underwear beneath your skirt. Then he asks, “Are you fucking enjoying this?” 

Too ashamed to admit it, all you do is whimper in response.

Smack. 

He sucks in breath through his teeth, then grabs the meat of your ass and rumbles, “You do, don’t you?” 

When his grasp on your wrists releases, you pull your elbows beneath you and look over your shoulder at him, watching as he spreads your cheeks apart and stares down between your legs. You’re probably shiny and wet with the evidence of your desire. 

His lips form an ‘o’ when he kneads you back together and spreads you apart again. The motion teases all your hungry nerves and makes you moan. It feels so fucking good. 

You realize then that he’s grown stiff against your belly, hard cock leaving no mistake. 

“You fucking like it, too, don’t you?” you ask him, your voice breathy and amused, “I can feel how turned on you are.” 

Slipping a hand between your bodies, you press against his strained zipper. His cock jumps at the contact, and he groans, dragging his fingers through your slick lips. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you nod in approval. He works your clit in steady, firm circles while you smooth your hand along the big bulge in his pants, letting out a string of whines at the bubbling pleasure inside you. 

You lose yourselves here, both of you squirming and panting and petting the other. So wrapped up with how fucking good it feels that you forget to feel ashamed. 

When he smacks your ass now, you croak through clenched teeth, “Fuck yes.”

He likes that you like it. You can tell by the way he groans and throbs beneath you. This knowledge inspires your pulse to pound and your muscles to tense. 

“Joel,“ you whimper, opening your eyes to meet his heavy-lidded gaze, “I’m gonna fucking come, don’t stop—”

“Did I give you permission to do that?” he asks, slowing his touch to a torturous rhythm, “Did I say you could come?” 

You shake your head and whine, “Please, Joel, please—”

“Are you sorry for what you did?” 

“I’m sorry—”

“Are you gonna do it again?”

“No no no, I won’t, I promise, I’ll be a good girl—”

He groans, tossing his head back as you frantically rub at the bulge in his pants. Your palm chafes against the stiff denim, but you don’t stop. You would do this for eternity if it meant he’d let you find your release. 

“Oh yeah, you’ll be a good fucking girl for me?” he asks, touching you just soft and slow enough to twist your nerves ragged, but keep your orgasm out of reach. 

“I will, I promise. Please, Joel,” you whisper, holding his gaze as your face gets all hot, “Please make me come, please please—”

“Show me you mean it.” 

He doesn’t need to explain what he means. While he takes off his jeans, you scramble off his lap and kneel between his spread knees. His eyes stay glued to yours as you slide your hands up his thighs. 

Batting your lashes at him, you wrap your lips around his swollen cock. He fills your mouth. He feels smooth but hard against your tongue. He tastes salty and heady and when you inhale the musk of him, you moan around his girth. 

Nodding, he anchors his grip behind your head and bucks his hips, forcing his dick down your throat. When you gag, he doesn’t let up, but thrusts into the sensation, grunting, “Fuck. Yes,” before letting you pull off, gasping for air.

You wrap your hands around him, all shiny and slick with drool, and pump his length for a moment while you catch your breath, then take him in your mouth again. 

This time, you sit up taller. You relish the stretch of your lips as you bob up and down. Savor the tug of his fingers curled tight in your hair. Memorize the sound of his huffs and grunts as he fucks your face. The wet squelching gurgle of his cock squeezing down your windpipe. 

“Look at me,” he orders, so you do. 

He’s all blurred from your watering eyes, but you can make out the dark irises and stay locked onto them while relaxing the muscles of your throat to take him easier. When you make an enthusiastic humming noise, he groans. It’s wanton and lusty and lights a fire in your belly. 

Joel has never treated you this hard or soft. His regard for you has always been callous. Closed-off. Indifferent. With your assistance on the radio, he treated you like a tool for survival. Before that, or even in-between smuggling runs, he treated you like some kind of a household pet he had little regard for. Your mom’s responsibility, never his. 

For years and years, you ached for more. 

When you were younger, you used to sit up nights and wonder if he’d ever consider you his daughter. He wouldn’t, though. He won’t. 

But this is something. 

Distinctly, you want to please him. Be the best he ever had. You want to sink your claws into his brain and leave your mark for years to come. You want him to look at you after this and feel a flicker of desire and self-loathing. You want him to think of you when he fucks your mom. You want him to hate how you made him feel. 

When you pull off him and start to work his soaked length with your hands, you pant, “Does that feel good? Am I doing a good job sucking your cock?” 

“It’s good,” he nods, lets out a groan that pinches his eyes shut, then meets your gaze again, “So fucking good, Jesus Christ. Is this what you were out doing tonight? Sucking cock?” 

“Not tonight.” 

“But he fucked you, didn’t he? That boy?” 

You nod, stroking him slower. His eyelids flutter. 

“Did he fuck your pussy or your ass?” 

The question sends a jolt through your middle. You recall the sex you had with Bert. Barely an hour has gone by since he pulled out of your cunt to shoot his load on the mattress, but it feels like a lifetime ago. 

“My pussy,” you answer, then gather a thick, hot wad of saliva on your tongue and spit on his cock. You spread it with a slow churning motion, watching Joel’s face twist up with pleasure. 

“Were you bein’ smart about it at least?” he asks, studying you, “We don’t need you getting knocked up.” 

“He pulled out,” you shrug. 

He grunts in acknowledgment, then sits up and pulls on your arm to join him on the couch, “C’mere.” 

You follow his guidance, lying back on the cushions as he strips off his shirt. 

The only times you’ve seen him shirtless were accidental and slightly embarrassing for both of you. But now, you notice how his smooth chest glows in the dim light. Now, when you drink in the sight of his big arms and broad shoulders, heat bubbles up your spine.

While you pull your tank top off over your head, he tugs your skirt down your thighs, asking, “You ever taken it up the ass?” 

You shake your head. 

His eyebrows jump a little like he’s surprised. A sadistic kind of smirk plays across his lips as he pushes your knees up to your chest, then spreads you apart, the head of him nudging at your backdoor. 

He doesn’t ask for permission. He doesn’t ask if you want it this way, or if you want him to be the first. He doesn’t even warn you about the initial shock and pain you experience when he rocks his hips forward and breaches the tight hole. 

You yelp and try to lurch away from the sharp pain, but he grabs you and holds you there. 

Sitting up on your elbows, you cry, “That fucking hurts, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if it didn’t hurt a little, would it?” he murmurs, disinterested, watching your asshole stretch to accommodate the head of his cock. 

The sensation is overwhelming. Like being stabbed or split open. At first, you hate it. You sputter and gasp and shake your head as he pushes himself in further and further. 

Then he pauses the invasion, releasing his steel grip on you to tilt your chin up and meet his gaze, “Just relax.”

His eyes burn into yours, making your pulse jump. You bear witness to his heaving chest and parted lips and feel him twitch inside you. Sparks sizzle across your body, but you still scowl at him. 

“It hurts, I don’t like it.“ 

“It’ll get better, you just gotta relax,” he coaches.

“Why can’t we just have normal sex?”

He grunts, thinks about it for a moment, then tells you, “First off, this is not normal sex,” he points between your chest and his, “This will not be a normal thing, you understand?” 

It stings a little, if you’re being honest. But you nod, “I understand.” 

Nodding, he licks his lips. He throbs inside you, hips jerking a little in reaction. This time, the friction feels good enough to make you whimper. 

“Second, we don’t need another mouth to feed around here,” he says, searching your face, “We’re stretched thin enough as is. You know what I mean?”

“But if you—”

“Pulling out can still stick. This way’s tried and true, trust me.” 

“Trust you,” you scoff under your breath and roll your eyes. 

“What’s that?” 

You meet his hardened gaze, feeling emboldened enough to ask, “Do you fuck my mom in the ass?” 

“That’s none of your business,” he warns. 

“So, what, you can interrogate me about my sex life, but I can’t do the same?” 

“That’s right,” he barks, “Know why?” 

In response, you glare at him. 

He takes this moment of bitter silence to drag his knuckles up your slick, swollen lips. The light touch branches out beneath your skin and makes your heart pound. You gasp a little, but try to hide it. He clocks it immediately. 

“There we go,” he murmurs under his breath, almost as an aside, smoothing the pad of his thumb in soft circles on your clit. Pleasure churns beneath the touch, hot and hungry for more. When you whimper, Joel’s eyes go wild for a second, then he says, “I am the fucking boss of you, understand?” 

You swallow a moan as he arches forward and starts to roll his hips. It feels better now. Good. Fucking amazing, almost. Electric and gooey. He fills you so completely with each thrust, you wonder how you can even breathe. 

“So if I tell you to be home, that’s where you’ll be. If I ask you where you’ve been, who you were with, what you were doing—you tell me the truth. Understand?” 

Nodding, you gasp, “I understand.” 

“You don’t get to ask me about your mom. You don’t tell your mom. You don’t sneak out to go get fucked by some boy who doesn’t even know what to do with you—”

“Holy shit, Joel I’m gonna—” you gasp at the pressure building at the base of your spine, spreading thick and hot and delicious across your body. 

“And you don’t come without my fucking permission. Understand?” 

“I understand I understand,” you cry, literal tears burning behind your eyes at the ache of trying to keep the ecstasy at bay, “Please can I come, please please please—”

“Are you sorry?” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again—”

“That’s right, you’ll never fucking do it again. Why’s that?”

“You’re the boss,” you beg, your voice so raw and pleading it sounds foreign. He pounds into you now, a wet slap that echoes off the apartment walls. It takes all your concentration to keep your pleasure contained, to not spill over the edges, but you hear yourself babble somewhere far away. 

“You’re the fucking boss. I’m sorry I’m sorry I won’t disobey you again I’ll be a good girl I’ll do anything just please give me permission to come daddy please please please—”

When he moans, loud and depraved, it just about breaks you, but you manage to keep your resolve long enough for him to pant, “Go ahead, let it go.” 

With a choked sob, you untether your pleasure and allow it to expand, growing hot and wide and unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Every muscle in your body tenses up as the sensation swallows you whole, then spits you back up, sending wave after wave across your body.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” he grunts, taking his hand from your clit to hold your knees down and fuck your ass hard and fast and ruthless.

It surprises you when heat starts stretching out from the middle of you again. Your heart starts to race as the feeling grows. 

“Ffffuuuuck,” you whimper, “That feels so fucking good—”

“I told you, didn’t I?” 

“You did you did holy shit,” you meet his eyes and nod frantically, “I love it I love it—please can you come in my ass?” 

“Is that what you want? Want me to come in your tight little asshole?” 

A feral noise escapes you, and you sob, “Yes—”

“Do you wanna come too?”

“Yes—oh my god, yes, please please please daddy—”

“Come with me, baby.”

You let the feeling overtake you again, gasping out, “thank you thank you thank you,” as it takes you strong and fast. Pleasure pulses through your body, causing you to convulse and strain against Joel’s grip spreading you open. He releases a moan from his belly and gives you a hard, deep thrust that he holds for a shuddering moment. After emptying himself inside you, he pulls out, falling back to his seat on the couch. 

Chest heaving, you prop yourself up on your elbows and study him. He pinches his eyes shut and catches his breath before meeting your gaze again. 

His expression goes soft long enough for something dangerous to flicker between you. 

Then he turns away and starts getting dressed. 

“Get yourself together, I’m gonna go get your mom.” 

As you sit up, you fold your legs into your body and watch him button his shirt. 

“Joel—”

He looks at you, searching your face expectantly, but your brain goes static and you’re not even sure what you were going to say. 

“This stays between us, understand?” 

His tone is firm but gentle. You swallow hard and nod, “I understand.” 

Nodding, he glances down at your lips, then back to your eyes. He rises to his feet to leave, but before he does, he leans down to press a kiss into your forehead. 

“Good girl.” 

[ NEXT PART ]

[cozycottagetarot]

Random Things About Your Person

From Elle: Pulled This One From The Drafts... wasn't going to post it but maybe there's something useful in it for someone. It's a chill one ✌️

Notes:

Definition of 'Your Person': At this point, I'm not sure how I personally define 'Your Person', so I guess I'm leaving that up to you're interpretation. For now, let's just say someone you'll have an impactful connection with.

Reading Layout: This reading is done in a brain-dump style where the info is just bullet as it came to me and less organised.

Dividers From X

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

PILE 1

This person is such a loving and nurturing person… they could even help heal your inner child. If you want kids then this will transfer over to how they parent and it's very heartwarming.

They give off ethereal vibes. Very in tune with their intuition or have a strong sense of knowing

They could be your 'perfect match'

Someone you 'grow old' with or could envision yourself 'growing old' with

They could have a diverse friend group or their friend group is very important to them.

Night and the moon could be super important. They could be born at night, you meet at night or you communicate with them through your dreams.

They’re very abundant. Regardless of how much money they make, they just have such a rich life that you can see they are without want.

They’re very calming. They could calm your nervous system.

You’re going to have a very passionate/intimate relationship

There could be a 1-3 year age difference between you two (this is more so if you're interested in age differences... I don't why but I ended up reading those here)

They’re trustworthy and reliable

A very strong, gentle and protective person

PILE 2

Could live by the water or be very emotional.

They’re your heart, your everything. It might be hard to deny your attraction to them… but not physically. More so like a knowing once you meet this person that they play a significant role in your story

'Lionheart'... Regal energy

Lots to learn from them... So much that I actually wrote it twice lol

Kind of exotic… very beautiful

They don’t bark, they bite

They're someone who makes things happen

Very quiet…. It makes me think of something that I saw that goes along the lines of "You're harmless, not peaceful. If you’re peaceful you’re capable of great violence" or something like that. This is not meant to say that they're this aggressive/violent person. I feel like it's quite the opposite really.

I kept seeing this image of coming across a wounded animal, a wolf to be exact. You can see they've been in a fight/injured and are on guard. They're not going to hurt you but you can see that they are alert and will attack if you show you mean harm. A case of survival...

I feel like they hold the key to your happiness in a way

Something angelic about them… it could be their mind too

3 to a 8 year age difference (this is more so if you're interested in age differences… I don't why but I ended up reading those here)

An unexpected meeting

Beauty in darkness. Easily stressed or anxious. It feels very tense compared to pile/group 1

They’ve overcome a lot… flexible at a cost

One of you is further ahead in life than the other

Protective of their energy. Loyal, ambitious.

Overstimulated frequently or easily

PILE 3

They may be big on naps. Like napping together is their love language

They may be a little weird

Grumpy x sunshine vibes

Whimsy or connected to their inner child, youthful vibe

Very calm and peaceful

You two could be polar opposites but you work well together.

Their appearance can change a lot... I think more so through them willingly changing it. Really, don't be alarmed if you come home and they look completely different. I feel like they're mischievous and would get a kick out of your reaction

You could have a 2-6 year age difference (this is more so if you're interested in age differences… I don't why but I ended up reading those here)

They've managed to maintain a positive disposition despite the hardships they've faced

They could give off a met you in a past life vibe

Either good at helping you relax or they easily get stressed out but then can just as easily relax themself

Could be very creative or artistic... muse energy

Could like to take their space/time alone.... but could get lost in their head if not careful.

"Living in alignment" could be important to them... they may have a set of personal values or principles they really like to adhere to.

[francis-writes]

Could you do a NSFW Alphabet about Claude Frollo or any other Disney Villain you prefer?

Judge Claude Frollo NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Perhaps you wouldn't expect this but he gets very soft and cuddly. He's too tired and high on serotonine so for some time you don't see him scowling. Instead he just nuzzles his head in your chest and pulls you closer to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Claude doesn't pay that much attention to his look, he rather brags about his wisdom, power and righteousness but if he had to choose something, it would probably be his figure in general. The fact that he's tall and slender, yet still strong despite his age.

In your case, it would be your thighs. He likes to squeeze them, lay his head on them, have his head squeezed by them

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It isn't that important to him but if Frollo had to choose, he would decide to come inside of you. First, because he's catholic and it's one big breeding kink, second - because it makes him feel that he possesed you more.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You are his dirty secret. Other people probably don't suspect that Frollo has a lover and even if he makes it official, he wants everybody to thing that your the most proper christian couple, sleeping together only to make kids, in complete darkness, without any light, missionary and God forbid any additions to spice things up. If any of you have any marks from heated session, you must cover them and play a virgin in front of Paris.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I headcanon that before meeting you, Claude was a virgin or had maximum a few intercourses. In general, he was celibate in repressed, avoiding even thinking about carnal desires.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He doesn't have one, it depends on his mood. Sometimes he prefers missionary so he can be maximally close to you, sometimes he likes to take you from behind to dominate and overpower you, sometimes he likes you on top. There's no rule.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To quote Cabaret: "You know this funny thing about Frollo? Yeah... there's nothing funny about Frollo". Maybe once now and then he says something funny, but it's usually morbid/dark/threatening. You know, his kind of humour.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn't pay attention to it but he doesn't have much hair there anyway. They are small, delicate and gray.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Well, he's very passionate, that's for certain. He always fuck you as if it was his last day alive and he uses every opportunity to savour your body.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Remember when I said that Claude avoided even thinking about carnal desires? Well, that's not completely true. Sometimes when he was laying sleepless in bed, he gave into his urges and jacked off, wondering how would it be to break his vows and feel someone's warm touch. But he always had a great remorse later.

Now when you're together, he still jacks off but usually when you're away and he has no choice but to take care of himself. Other things that changed is that now he thinks about you; and he doesn't feel any guilt later.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

A lot. I already wrote many posts about his kinks so now I will just give a quick summary: Frollo is a switch. He likes to torture and dominate you, perhaps roleplay, but he's also a big sub with mommy kink. And he has a foot fetish.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He claims he's refined and picky, which is usually true but when it comes to sex, Frollo would take you wherever. Your bedroom, his office, dungeons of Palace of Justice, even his carriage. If he gets horny, he's not gonna wait until you come home.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I know it sounds cliche, but everything. Once you get into his bed, it goes like avalanche of repressed desires. Everything in you turns him on, you don't even need to tease him. Your look, your joke, the delicate touch of your hand. Oh, and also murder and torturing people but that's by the way.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Despite his tendecy to fuck in risky places, Frollo would rather avoid getting caught or let people know more details about your intimate life. He has reputation to uphold.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Claude loves it, no matter which way. He enjoys being waken up with a blow job but he also can spend hours just to give you pleasure.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the moment but he usually likes it rougher, no matter who is in control. Still, there are times when he just wants some sweet loving.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's all for quickies and nothing strange, considering how often he gets horny. No matter the place, he always can take you right here, right now.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As I said, when you break that first "oh no, it's a sin", Frollo is pretty much open to experiments as long as they stay a secret.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He isn't that young anymore but he still has some vitality in him. Anyway I would say that if he takes a little break after each round, he can last long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

How many toys existed in middle ages? Anyway, when it comes to basics like ropes and whips etc he's all for it but you would have to convince him to use a dildo for example. (It takes a bit convincing but it's not very hard)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't tease you (he likes to keep his image of stoic cold judge) but enjoys when you do it. He can't stand it for long tho and he quickly pulls you to the nearest private place.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He tries his best to stay quiet but he fails miserably. He only can hold back his moans a bit when you're in a more public place and Frollo has to avoid ruining his reputation (never stopped him from fucking you in the carriage tho)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It's a tough topic because it can as well be one of no's as one of the kinks. Perhaps both because forbidden fruit tastes better. In short: blasphemy kink and hierophilia. If you convince him to read scripture or wear a cassock during sex, he will be secretly really turned on.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

According to 1st law of dick, he's packin, but tbh i would adore his dick however it would look.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Bigger than you would thought in his age. He would probably like to fuck a few times everyday, start and end every day with your body (and enjoying it in breaks from his job).

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rather fast. As much as he likes it, sex tires him, he isn't so young after all, so he needs a quick nap.

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Heyo! So I was thinking about that baby fever thing I @ed u in earlier and I was thinking if maybe u could do some headcanons on what u think uh Reborn Wukong would be like as a dad to his newborn baby? I feel like he’d be such a good dad 🤭☺️

Reborn!Wukong: Papa Canons.

Pair: dad!Wukong x mom!Reader.

Content/Trigger Warnings: cuteness overload, my 1st shot at writing headcanons.

Authors Notes: CAN I JUST MENTION HOW FUCKING CUTE HE LOOKS IN THIS PICTURE?! LIKE.... OMFG, MY HEART. Anyways, IDK if I did it right, but this had to be the first one I did. The idea has been plaguing my mind since I saw both this request and this art you're referring to. Might make a part 2, but I dunno.

Hope you enjoy! Wanted to make this extra special bc your support and feedback always make me smile. <3

The audacity of this child to look so much like you. 

Looked at his precious baby from over your shoulder just as the little angel opened their eyes and made eye contact. Made his world stop and his stone heart explode.

He was so cautious and a bit nervous when you asked him if he wanted to hold the baby. The second he had that infant in his arms… his world stopped for the second time.

They had his eyes, tail and little fuzzies all over, but they had your facial features, complexion, and hair colour that matched the fur.

If you thought he was overprotective with you, get ready for him to be the most vicious Monkey King there ever was. 

He always made sure that you held that baby from beside him, not letting the child out of his peripheral vision. 

Someone tried to kidnap the child once… let's just say they didn't live to regret it.

He tells the little one a lot of stories when they can't sleep, only if you and the others are asleep, though. He doesn't need you or Pigsy teasing him about being ‘adorable’ and all that nonsense, but he also doesn't want the little angel to disturb your sleep.

Sure he was lenient with forcing you to sleep regularly, but now? He made sure that an hour or two at most when the sun goes down, you and the baby are asleep. Whether that means he has to carry you both in his arms or not. If that became the case or even if your feet hurt too much to walk, then so be it.

Oh how he enjoys when such occasions do occur. Usually he’d carry your things so you could focus on the bundle, but when he has to carry you both, of course he forces Pigsy to carry them.

He loves holding you both in his arms, especially when you rest your head against his shoulder and tell him how much you love him. Thanking him for blessing you with your bundle of joy as you often did to her.

Whenever you camp out, too far from any village, he makes sure to make shelter for you and the baby near a tree to keep the little one out of the dew. 

Makes the nest with the best items he could find and if it’s not enough for the both of you, he runs off to find other things that are even better. 

If you pass a marketplace that sells anything soft? He ensures that the most comfortable ones are procured exclusively for you and your infant.

He enjoys watching you feed the bundle… cause… ya know. You're his wife. He also thinks the little sneeze they do every time they’re finished is absolutely adorable, and it melts his heart every.single.time.

He watches the baby closely when they reach the age to sit up on their own. He makes sure to be ready for when they fall over in case you're too slow to catch their head.

He loves the kid, sure, absolutely without a doubt… but sometimes he doesn't like it when all your attention is on the baby to the point you don't acknowledge him.

He's an amazing dad, but he’s an amazing husband and mate first. GIVE HIM ATTENTION, DAMMIT! 

He’s still the same possessive Wukong, of course he’d get jealous if even the baby gets more attention than him. Give him snuggles when you get the chance, a plus if you hold him and the baby.

He still often gets you little gifts and things he thinks you may like, especially since he knows how stressed you've been since you got pregnant. It’s his doing, so it was the least he could do.

When the baby holds his finger and gurgles with that furrow you frequently did, he tells them not to talk to him with that attitude. Something that makes you smile, trying your best not to laugh. Especially when he scolds you for passing on that attitude to his precious infant.

When the baby does it with that large gummy smile that also reminded him of you, his heart soar. He'd have that content smile that makes any hardship worth it. You absolutely love that smile the most.

Despite the times he would frequently tell them not to ‘talk’ to you like that, he liked to say it served you right for passing down your sass in the first place.

When the baby gets old enough to eat mushed up fruit? He collects the ripest and juiciest ones for the both of you. Yes, he will beat Pigsy to a pulp if the gluttonous pig tested his luck to try taking some.

[rivetgoth]

The fact that I’ve seen a few people try to analyze I Saw the TV Glow through a lens of it being about like, fandom and obsession with media and nostalgia being bad ?? is genuinely blowing my mind. Obviously there’s the fact that this movie is as unambiguously about being trans as it can possibly be without just saying outright “this is a movie about being trans” but I also think this is crazy because I would say it actually has one of the most unambiguously positive relationships with concepts like “media consumption” and “nostalgia” that I’ve seen in a movie.

Like, to say it’s a shallow interpretation of the film to call it “about media/fandom” (and especially a negative depiction of such things!) is putting it quite kindly because I kind of feel that anyone who utters such sentiments didn’t actually understand the core element of the entire movie: “The Pink Opaque” is not a show. Commentary the film makes about watching “The Pink Opaque” cannot translate to commentary on watching shows broadly because the movie spends half its runtime making it explicitly clear that “The Pink Opaque” may be a show that exists in a literal sense but is not one in a figurative sense. “The Pink Opaque” represents the possibilities of childhood and innocence. Innocence that still is not free from judgment—Owen gets told the show is for girls, Maddy’s friend accuses her of sexual harassment on account of her sexuality while they were watching it together—but it’s the moment in your youth (or any time! it doesn’t have to go away!) when the possibility of queerness and more explicitly queer utopia feels real to you. The external pressures to conform are still there but you can tune them out if just for a moment to envision a future and a life for yourself free of it and living authentically. I think this is an experience all LGBT people can relate to, but in the case of ISTTVG it’s very explicitly primarily focusing on queer femininity, predominantly transfemininity, but in Maddy’s case as well she is a queer woman (I’ve seen some interpretations of her as transmasculine but I disagree personally). Hence the on-the-nose nature of it being PINK.

What feels very genius about Schoenbrun making it about a show though is that it’s so generational, right? For all of us LGBT people who grew up in the age of screens that WAS where a lot of that early imagination going wild resided. The first time you explore a new name is on anonymous forums. The first time you explore your masculinity or femininity is with which character you relate to in a show, or which gender you select in Pokémon. Movies and shows with “queer subtext” or even without give young LGBT people the chance to envision relationships and futures for themselves, what many grow up and call “shipping.” You have your first gay crush while watching your favorite movies. You envy those of your true gender while watching your favorite movies. Amongst many other things when Maddy watches “The Pink Opaque” she’s given access to a world where two women share this intimate connection and overcome obstacles together. When Owen watches “The Pink Opaque” they’re given access to a world where femininity is a real option for their future.

The relationship these characters have to “The Pink Opaque” is a net positive and the movie makes that so incredibly obvious when Owen goes back to rewatch it later and finds that it’s nothing like how they remembered, it feels childish and immature and dumb. That is a bad thing. This is a bad thing. The movie wants you to see this as a bad thing. This is the result of repression, of conversion therapy, of violent coercion into normative lifestyle—That sense of limitless possibility is destroyed and the idea of accessing one’s transness, of imagining this utopia where you CAN be yourself and live as a woman, strong and beautiful on the other side of the screen as said in the film, is lost. Now you tell yourself it feels silly, it feels childish to imagine such things, it’s not nearly as deep and meaningful as you believed it was when you were younger and less inhibited, or it’s at the very least easier to tell yourself that. Owen’s feeling embarrassed is of note here. If it weren’t for these external pressures that have been internalized they very well may have been able to still enjoy the show, even as they’ve aged and grown and matured, even if their perspective has changed a little. But they can’t. Not yet, at least.

I feel kind of out of my mind seeing people try to approach it through a lens of commentating on media consumption because it’s so deeply missing the layers of what’s actually being said… and not even in a wildly obfuscated way. The movie is ABOUT the relationship these characters have to “The Pink Opaque” and how the loss of that is a bad thing. How you can possibly watch it and see it being about some kind of growth from obsessive media consumption is mind boggling to me. Seeing multiple reviews and posts in tags about it is crazy. One thing I really like about this movie is that it so confidently argues for a more positive interpretation of being obsessed with “fantasy” and the childlike wonder of the limitless possibilities of fiction. I think that’s a very very trans narrative, as I mentioned it feels tied deeply into Queer Utopia, and I find it much more bold of a stance to take. In a world where people tell trans individuals (and especially trans women) that their identities are works of fiction or products of the imagination or even caused by excessive media consumption, to embrace these things and turn them over and use them as a symbol of the whimsy and innocence and excitement that first ignites that spark as a positive, thrilling, beautiful thing is very cool.

[spitdrunken]

Rollo corruption kink???🤨🤨🤨

I wanna ruin him so bad but bros probably worse than me PFFFT

notes: corruption

PLEASE. MAYBE HE WOULD BE?? i'm still trying to figure out what type of horny he is... i just can't see him as the type of 'desperately repressed' guy, personally. to me he just kind of feels like hm,,, sex or masturbation has just never particularly interested him, and he would probably not know much more about it than what's told in mandatory school lessons. (not to mention, if it really is as pleasurable as he’s led to believe... someone such as him would not deserve  it.) PLUS he spends most of his time around magic students nowadays and maybe he just wouldn’t wanna fuck them lmao. ANYWAY, ENJOY. 

Rollo is a horrible kisser. Mere pecks on the lips already have him freezing up and leave him unsure of how to handle himself, much less anything more. He wouldn’t want you to stop, not even close, but he’d never be able to ask you to continue either. His own inexperience hadn’t crossed his mind much before dating you, but now he’s growing more self-conscious with every touch you bestow upon him. As diligent as he is, he would use the same strategies here as when he’s struggling with anything else: copious amounts of research. 

It starts with him searching kissing tips online, trying to memorize the things one is ‘supposed’ to say or do in these scenarios. He watches kiss scenes in movies, reads how they’re described in novels, and tries to find variables that determine a good kiss. In reality, he’s not getting much better. He knows that if he were to try and copy scenes he’s seen, it would feel so unlike him that you’d likely start laughing. Perhaps he should just ask you to help him practice, and yet... His online searches eventually lead him to filthier content he’s never had much interest in viewing prior.

Watching two people making out is enough to get him slightly flustered, but only because he imagines doing such things with you. The two strangers on the screen touching each other, seeing their tongues and their spit... Makes him feel vaguely ill. It’s filthy. But your tongue caressing his own, the tip of your tongue rubbing against the top of his mouth- It makes him squirm. Rollo is no stranger to getting random erections, every guy his age gets them occasionally, but he’s certain this one is not merely random. Never before has the urge to touch himself been as strong as now. The scene on his phone screen has long since been abandoned, and all he can think about is you. He tries to pace around and wait until it goes away.

His building thoughts culminate into a single moment, where he finally makes a move while you lean in to kiss him. Rollo, despite all his research, has no idea what he’s doing, and simply pushes his tongue against your closed lips. Immediately, he pulls away.

“Ah... I, I- My apologies.” Rollo fumbles to pull his handkerchief out of his pocket, and nearly drops it to the ground in doing so. His face is burning up like never before. He feels a little better after taking a deep breath or two. “I shouldn’t have done that without asking. Was it- Are you alright?”

You smile at him, and it has his heart fluttering. “I’m fine, really! I barely felt it.” You laugh a little, but he doesn’t feel like he’s being made fun off. “But, please be honest- I know kissing isn’t like your favourite thing in the world, so you aren’t just doing this to make me happy, are you...? You don’t have to force yourself for me. In fact, please don’t.”

“I can promise you that’s not the case,” Rollo says. “This was something... Of a personal desire of mine, yes. I’ve never minded your kisses in the past either.” He crosses his arms and presses them close to his chest. “I will admit that I simply didn’t know how to respond yet. I’ve tried to educate myself further on the subject, but, ah... I’m not certain I’ve made much progress yet.”

Something in your expression, your smile, shifts a little. “The only way to get better at kissing, is through practice. Nothing else. Should we try?” Rollo’s throat suddenly feels a bit dry, but he finds himself nodding nonetheless. 

When you press your lips to his, and your warm cheek presses against his cold skin, he’s already content. You mirror his previous action, the tip of your tongue brushing against his mouth. He parts his lips without hesitation. Your mouth makes a little noise as you readjust your head, tilting it a bit further to the side as you slide your tongue in. For a moment, Rollo’s surprised at how well he’s still breathing, until it feels awfully obvious.

Your tongue inside him feels both bigger and smaller than he expected. He tries to reciprocate, and though he’s sure the way he’s swirling his tongue around yours is clumsy, he hasn’t felt this good in ages. When you slide over the top of his mouth, a noise he’s never made before gets pulled from his throat. It’s a much more sensitive spot than he could have imagined. 

Your kiss swept most of coherent thoughts from his mind. Once it’s over, Rollo is a little dazed and breathless. He leans forward to try and chase your touch when you pull away, without even realizing it. He doesn’t even try to hide his face. Nor does he clean it, despite a dribble of spit sliding down his skin. (It’s not filthy, as long as it comes from you.) All at once, he becomes conscious of just how warm he feels within, and folds his hands over his lap in a flurry of motion.

It’s such a sudden and suspicious movement, that you know instantly what’s happening to him, and it’s all just a little too much. He gets up in one jerky movement, pulling away from you and staring straight past you before excusing himself. The exact words he uses are immediately forgotten as soon as he says them. You don’t have a chance to protest before he’s gone and, the moment the door closes, he regrets it. Ah, he’s really hopeless, isn’t he...?

[luvrodite]

TAKE FLIGHT JASON TODD (college!au)

↳ headcanons about jason in the au that is currently taking up all my brain space. so incredibly self indulgent. extreme liberties taken with his characterisation i'm sorry this is fanfiction!!!!!

first and most importantly - nothing (too) bad happens in this au. i imagine him getting adopted by bruce, but he gets to live and be happy and he is so so loved and that doesn't change

if he's got issues with his dad it's normal human issues like not seeing eye to eye on things but at the end of the day he is cherished and bruce supports him in everything

so he goes to university. in this au i imagine him to be studying literature (of course, duh) but also something else. i feel like he'd be interested in philosophy, but in my mind it's definitely something in the humanities faculty.

moves out but doesn't do the dorm thing because he wants his own space, and i think bruce just takes care of everything and he doesn't have to worry about rent or groceries or anything of that sort

i think he'd still get a job though...like maybe in a secondhand bookstore or music store that nobody really goes to so it's quiet and he can work on his assignments and read most of the time

makes friends with the regular people that breeze in and out - likes to people watch because he gets so many interesting looking people that come through

i think he'd have to have a little old lady neighbour that doesn't trust him at first because look at him he's so tall and big and he's got his fair share of scars on his hands from high school

but he's an angel...probably helps her take in her groceries quietly and leaves it at that because that's simply the thing to do

like i don't imagine he'd be extremely chatty, but he's polite and says hello to everyone or nods at them in the elevator

she warms up to him and they have conversations in the morning when she’s going down for her daily morning walk and he’s got classes to head to 

imagining him with still slightly messy curls in the morning as he walks onto campus

he's so.. boy. in this au. does that make sense??? just. happy and stress free, and he loves his courses and he calls home every few days and his younger brothers are ever suffering because he talks so much about the stuff he’s learning 

sobs he’s such a nerd i love him but they’re just wondering how this is the guy that gets side-eyed everywhere he goes 

but he’s not mild mannered…he just minds his business

like i said, has gotten into his fair share of fights at school and similarly isn’t afraid to tell someone when they’re being a dick 

the girls in his class love him because he actually likes to have discussions with them instead of talking over them and is happy to speak for the group or let them do it if they want when they get called on for class discussions

he’s just that guy who at first glance seems a little intimidating because a) he’s gorgeous and b) is huge but you get put into a group with him and he’s so intelligent and polite, listens to what everyone has to say and has wicked smart opinions of his own to share

has a bike. in every iteration of jason he must have a motorbike i just cannot imagine him without a bike. nearly gives bruce a heart attack in this au because he immediately runs through the worst case scenarios and it takes AGES before he accepts it even if he does think the bike looks cool and it takes even longer before he lets jason take him for a spin on the back of it

bruce in this au is just. doting and a little anxious about things. and that's okay. he's coming to terms with his kids growing up, and the changes that come with that. at least he's still got his girls, who will never not come around to bother him. but dick has already left the nest, and jason is on his way. he just misses when they were little

he likes to say jason was so small he could hold him in the palm of his hands (a big lie, as he was small but not that small, but jason secretly likes the affection)

he scribbles in all his class assigned novels, notes filling up the margins and the blank pages at the end - annotations on annotations

has gone down a rabbit hole of literature papers analysing different texts at 3 am. several times

paperbacks on his bedside table, bookmarked with receipts and scraps of paper, literally anything that can be used - he'll use it

notebooks for each class that are equally as full, coordinating notes on books and poems and papers

sigh english student jason todd my beloved angel 

this isn't meant to be taken seriously at all, but we're here to have a good time. sigh i wanna make a moodboard so u guys can see the vision i have of him

[xchxsex]

2 Birds with 1 Stone: John Stone x afab reader

Warnings: mention of murder and suicide, graphic depictions, manipulation, oral (m receiving), degradation, praise, age gap, virgin reader, overstimulation, slapping

Being a cop had its ups and downs; you get to bring victims to justice, but you also witness some of the most graphic cases of abuse.

This case was no different.

Over some time, many girls have come up missing, all last seen at bars and all found getting into an old blue car.

They finally think they’ve found the man responsible: a man named John Stone who tended to keep to himself, living out far from the city.

You were called in to interrogate him, being one of the best at the station to get confessions. You were able to get inside their heads and trick them into revealing their darkest secrets and desires.

There’s just one problem with this man.

As you opened the case file, he immediately caught your eye. You were a sucker for the look of an older man, like many others. No wonder he got girls to come with him so easy.

This made you nervous. You tried to think of how to get him to talk, but none came to mind.

As you walked into the room, you tried to center yourself. If you couldn’t get him to talk, not only would families not be able to have their girls again, but it could also mess up your reputation.

Immediately he greets you with a slight smirk, his hands cuffed behind him.

“Well well well, aren’t you a pretty young thing.” He says.

You get a hitch in your throat and try to swallow it down. Sitting down in front of him, he adjusts his hips, moving them forward. As hard as you try, you can’t help but look down. Loose jeans, but with whatever is between his legs, they’re tight.

It’s been a while since you’ve been this close to any man. Your job took most of your time, or you just weren’t interested in those who asked for your number.

“Having a hard time focusing?,” he asks.

You quickly look up and meet his eyes. There’s a charm, a sexiness about them.

Crossing your legs and opening his file, your heart beating quickly, you start to ask him questions.

“So, i see you’ve served overseas?”

He smiles.

“Is that really what you want to ask?”

You bite your lip and close the files. You’re gonna have to be harder with him.

“No, it’s not. I want to know where all these girls bodies are. Their families deserve to have a proper burial for their loved one John.”

He laughs a sinister one.

“Can’t tell you where the bodies are… but i can tell you where i put the pieces.”

A chill goes down your spine. His smugness only makes you more curious about the man sitting in front of you.

“Let me ask you something,” he says,” why are you a cop? A little thing like you, if my hands weren’t cuffed, i could wrap both of my hands around that pretty neck of yours and choke you without you even being able to scream for help.”

The thought of his hands wrapped around your neck causes your body to react in a way you didn’t expect.

“And I’m also trained to take down men your size. I also have a taser and a gun that will cut you down to size if you try it.”

He laughs again.

“You’re a precious little thing aren’t ya? You forget that i was trained the same way darlin’.”

He’s trying to pick apart your ego, to make you feel threatened and scared.

“John, we’re getting off topic, you know where you put those bodies- pieces, stop calling me names and answer my questions.”

He knows he’s getting to you, getting you riled up is what he wants.

“Okay,” he settles into his chair,” then what do you want to know?,” he says.

You let out a huff, trying to keep your anger contained.

“You know what i want to know John, where did you put those girls?”

He bites his lip, looking down at your covered body. You catch his eyes wandering, ashamed at wondering what he thinks of it.

“You’re one of those good girls, I like you. Don’t worry little lady, I wont bite, unless you want me to.”

This might be a chance to wonder what he’s thinking.

“And what is a ‘good girl’ to you?,” you ask.

“A girl that doesn’t go around suckin’ and fuckin’ anything that walks, one of those girls that keeps their body to themselves. They stay covered, leaving it all to the imagination. You’re all covered up, not wearing a bunch of shit on your face. A natural beauty.”

You feel your cheeks flush at his words, holding what they make you feel from him. You can’t let him have the upper hand on you.

“See, if i was your daddy, i would be proud of you not dressing and acting like that.”

Not having a present father figure makes his words hurt more than they should.

“Actually my father is not around, my mom is who’s proud of me. I don’t need your validation.”

He tuts a little.

“You’re a sweet girl. I’ll tell you some things,” he says.

You let out a needed breath.

“Thank you, now-,” he cuts you off.

“But, only if you do a little something for me in return.”

Bargaining was something you had to do every now and then. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it went south.

“And what would that be?,” you ask.

He sighs. “You remind me of my wife. Killed herself a while ago. You’re sweet and innocent like her. Took two years of dating before she let me touch her, and god was it was amazing. I love usin’ a pretty girl that’s never been touched.”

You’re not sure where this is going, but the thought of him climbing on top of you and having you is beginning to make you throb.

“What exactly are you asking me?”

“Are you a virgin, princess? Cause you sure seem like it.”

You feel embarrassed now. How would he even know that about you?

“That’s none of your business,” you tell him.

“I take that as a yes,” he says.

“Okay? What is it that you want in exchange for information?,” you ask.

“I want you,” he says with no hesitation.

Your body responds quicker than your mind can, a whimper falls from your lips before you can stop it.

“W-why would you want me?,” you ask.

He licks his lips.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve gotten to fuck a good girl? M’ sick and tired of fuckin’ these whores around here,” he leans in closer to the table,” if I’m going to prison, i want to be the man to take your body and introduce it to a world of pleasure.”

The idea shouldn’t sound as good as it does. You guess it would kill two birds with one stone.

“So, if i let you have me, you’ll tell me where those girls are?”

“Im a man of my word sweetheart.”

Your mind is hesitant, but your body is ready to handle whatever John has in store for you.

“Okay,” you say.

He smiles. “Good. But not here, we need to go somewhere private.”

You agree, but where?

“Where would we go then?”

“You sneak us both out of here, we can hop in the car and go somewhere hidden. Then I’ll tell you where they are.”

It’s risky, but you always have your gun, taser, and your fight in you. If you can get him to confess, it will help many families, maybe even get you a promotion.

“Deal,” you tell him.

You stand up and get him out of the chair, quickly seeing his large stature compared to yours. You grab his arm and cuffed hands, leading him out of the interrogation room. Your boss stops you.

“How’d it go?,” she asks.

“I got him to talk a little. Im taking him back to his cell before i tell you,” you lie.

“Okay good. Ill see you soon,” she says.

You both leave, taking him out the back door, near the cells.

Letting him in the passenger seat of your police car, you make sure he’s settled and still cuffed. He might be charming, but you’re in charge of keeping him calm.

You climb in the drivers side, joining him in.

“Im leaving the cuffs on you. Where do we go?”

“Thats alright darlin’, drive off this road and take a few right turns. There’s some scrub brush around there people don’t pass by much.”

You drive off, following his directions. You feel him eyeing you up, wondering how your body will feel in his hands. While driving, you’re a little distracted as well, thinking about what he might look like under those baggy clothes. Part of you also wonders just what are you about to experience: will it hurt? Will it be bad?

Soon, you arrive where he said. You start to get nervous at the thought of him having you, but you’re doing it for good reasons. Course, one of those reasons is a little more personal than the rest.

You pull over off the road, letting yourself out before walking around and opening his door. You go to get in the backseat before he stops you.

“I need to see if you’re worth fuckin’ first,” he turns himself around to where his legs are out of the door,” you’re gonna need to prove it, pretty girl.”

“And how would I do that?,” you ask.

“How about you start by shuttin’ that mouth and getting on your knees, hm?”

You do as he says, slowly lowering yourself in front of him.

“Good girl. You obey my commands. How about you take off my belt and pants?”

You unhook the black leather, opening it to unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper. You tug them down and are greeted with the sight of his length tightly packed into his dark underwear. Your insides twinge at the thought of it entering you, filling and stretching you out with ease.

“Now prove it to me. You suck my cock until i tell you to stop, and i suggest you listen to what i say.”

You’ve never been with a man in any sense. The furthest that you’ve ever gone was some light touching while kissing. This is all new.

“Never sucked one before have you? I get to be the first man in both of your holes hm?”

You nervously loop your fingers into his underwear, gently tugging them down until his cock springs up and out.

He lets out a groan of relief. “Get to it pretty girl.”

You wrap your hand around the base of him, your fingers barely touching all the way around. You slowly take him into your mouth, hearing him let out a grunt in response. Taking a few inches at a time, you settle into a pace that keeps you from gagging.

“Thats fuckin’ right little girl, you take that dick in that innocent little mouth of yours.”

His words cause you to choke slightly. Your eyes water as you come up.

“Take every inch down your throat and I’ll let you stop. Be a good girl and prove how much you want it.”

You take him again, working up to the depth you were at. Going deeper, you’re only halfway down him, not sure you can take anymore.

“Thats it baby, keep going. I want to watch you choke for me.”

You open up your throat as best you can, closing your eyes, working your way down until you feel the tickle of hair at the base of him.

“Good fuckin’ girl baby… one of em’s buried over between the lake and town line.”

You take his words as allowing you to come up. Tears dripping down your face, saliva dripping down your mouth.

“I love corrupting little girls into takin’ and beggin’ for a cock in their holes. I’ll fuck you nice and rough.”

You raise up and unlock the back door before he stops you again.

“What now?,” you say back, annoyed.

“Don’t take that tone with me little girl, or i wont fuck that little pussy of yours at all, understand?”

You hate that he has a power over you, but something about the way he talks like that to you makes you grow even wetter.

“Yes,” you say.

“Yes what?,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good girl, now, i was going to ask if you would take these cuffs off.”

That, you’re not sure about. He is still a wanted criminal.

“I don’t know if i should.”

“It’ll be hard for me to take your clothes off and grab onto your pretty curves with my hands tied behind me now wont it?”

He does have a point.

“Okay, but I’m putting them back on when we’re done.”

You take the keys out and let him out of the car to unlock his wrists. You put the cuffs back in your pocket.

Now that his hands are free, you can see how large they are. You need them grabbing onto your body, taking you the way he wants.

“Lay in the back,” he orders.

You climb into the backseat of the car, he follows, ending up on top of you.

“You still want me to fuck you?,” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer, with no hesitation.

He grabs hold of your body, kissing you roughly all over. You get his pants and underwear fully tugged down and off while he’s unbuttoning your top. It slides down your shoulders and lands in the floor. You’re left in a thin tank top with your bra.

He undoes your belt and tugs your pants down, revealing your thin, white underwear. He pulls away from you, seeing you laid underneath him.

“White’s a symbol of purity,” he begins to pull them down,” guess I’ll be takin’ these with me.”

He takes them off and puts them in his shirt pocket. He pushes your legs up, displaying you to him.

“Got a pretty little wet cunt on you.” He runs his fingers down your slit, slipping a finger into you. You wince at having something enter you for the first time.

“Nice and tight too, you want another?”

The more you open up, the more you crave him.

“Please,” you whine.

He slides another into you, his wide fingers stretching you more.

“Gotta get you nice and open before my cock tears you in half.”

He curls them up just right, finding a spot you never knew existed. You moan, grabbing onto the seat.

“Yeah? Making a mess on my fingers huh?” He smiles as he presses on your lower stomach.

“Show me those pretty tits,” he says.

You listen and do as he says, pulling up your bra to reveal yourself to him. He moves his hand and starts pumping himself.

“You’re getting me worked up babygirl.” Drops of pre cum drip on your stomach. His fingers still press into you, using the heel of his palm to rub your clit.

He takes his hand off his cock and gathers what dripped on his thumb, touching it to your lips.

“Clean it up dirty girl,” he invites you to suck it off. The mixture of you sucking his finger while his curl into you is building your pleasure.

His hand moves to your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipples.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on me? You wanna make a pretty mess on my cock next?”

“Mhmm,” you whine before an intense orgasm rocks your body. You moan, grabbing into his arm, fingers fucking you faster, prolonging your pleasure even more. Your back arches off the seat.

“Goddamnit you’re fuckin’ tight when you cum.”

Normally you would have finished by now, letting it subside as you caught your breath, but your body wont let go of it.

“Im still cumming,” you whine.

He smiles down at you.” Oh i know pretty girl, can’t wait to taste all that pretty cunt is giving me.”

Finally after what felt like hours, it subsides as his fingers slow. He pulls them out of you, admiring the wet, sticky mess you left behind. He brings his fingers to his lips, sucking the creamy mess off of them.

“Sweet, with a little bit of tang,” he says finishing up. “Now’s time for the real fun.” He unhooks and takes off the bra completely, throwing it aside.

Bare, you want to feel his skin completely on yours. You run your hands up his flannel shirt, wanting him to take it off.

“You want my top off?,” he smiles.

“Please”, you whine, moving your hands further up.

He gives into you, unbuttoning it and pulling it off. You’re finally satisfied being able to run your hands up his body, through his hair.

He towers back over you, pulling your legs on his. You start to get a little nervous. The feeling of his fingers hurt, and after seeing what he looks like, you know it’s going to hurt like hell.

“You ready for me?,” he asks.

“Yes,” you say, readying yourself.

He aligns himself at you, pressing in. It doesn’t hurt at first, but after a few seconds, it feels like fire.

“Ow,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Oh it’s gonna hurt darlin’. I’ll go slow. Tight little virgin pussy.”

He slowly slides in, closing your eyes tight, breathing picking up, trying to take him. Finally he stops, all the way inside you.

“Look at me,” he says.

You open your eyes back up, looking down to see him filling you up. The pain has subsided for now. You look back up at him.

“You okay? You’re openin’ up for me.”

“I think so,” you say, settling into the feeling of being full.

“It’s gonna keep hurtin’ baby. Just wait it out, alright?”

You nod, preparing for more pain. He starts to pull out and it begins to hurt again, but not as bad as before. He slowly moves in and out of you, waiting for you to fully open.

But when he moves into you a final time, pure hot pleasure shoots through your body. You let out a moan and he takes notice. He smiles, picking up the pace.

“Startin’ to like it, aren’t you?”

Tightening your body around him, you make out a “yes”, into his ear. His hand wraps around your neck and squeezes.

“Im gonna show you how a real man fucks a lady.”

He adjusts his legs up, moving further on top before slamming his hips into you so aggressively, you’re moving up and down with his movements. You cry out in unbearable pleasure, your body trying to fight back against it.

He holds your body close to his, completely pinning you down.

“So goddamn tight, you like gettin’ fucked like this, don’t you?,” he grunts in your ear.

“Yes, fuck!,” you moan, back arching further into him. You can’t believe you’re currently losing your virginity to a wanted man as an officer in the back of your own car.

He kisses you rough and sloppy, still pounding away at your insides effortlessly. His hand moves from your neck to your lower stomach, pressing down slightly.

“Feel how fuckin’ deep I am? Big cock stretching out your tight little womb,” he groans.

When he presses down, you can feel his tip hitting his hand through your skin, so deep you can feel him in your stomach.

“You know what i love even more than a good girl?”, he groans. “A good girl that can take a cock like a little fuckin’ whore.”

He raises up, lifting your hips up with him. The arch of your back causes him to go even deeper, hitting your spots even better. You grab hold of the seats as the only part of you touching is your upper back and head. You lift your legs up on his shoulders, pulling you even higher.

“God, thats the hottest fuckin’ thing Ive ever seen,” he groans.

You look down and see what he’s looking at. Because of the angle you’re at, your stomach is actually bulging outwards with his thrusts.

“You’re my dirty fuckin’ slut. Pretty little cock hungry girl,” he says with a slap to your cheek and a hand around your neck. You moan, that slap doing more to you than you expected. Your insides burn with a need of release, not knowing if he’ll allow you to relieve the ache.

“C-can I cum?,” you ask.

He leans over you, sweat beads forming on his forehead.

“Course you can babygirl, you’re being so good for me.”

It doesn’t take long before you’re grabbing on tightly to his body, coming undone around him while he continues to pound you into the seat. You’re crying out for him, begging him to slow down.

“Shut up and take it all, little girl,” he groans in your ear.

In a swift motion, he lowers you back down on the seat, quickly pulling your legs back on his shoulders.

“Fuck!,” you whine, extending your high out longer than you’ve ever felt.

“Thats it, dirty fuckin’ whore. Yeah? You like cummin’ around a cock don’t you girl?”

You’re finally starting to come down from it, but it doesn’t take long before you feel another one coming. Your legs are automatically trying to close, his neck stopping them.

“I suggest you keep those legs spread for me,” he leans in closer,” or you’re not cummin’ again anytime soon.”

You try and force your legs apart the best you can, wanting to be able to finish again. You pull them apart with your hands as you’re about to finish again.

“Bout to cum again already are we?,” he asks.

You nod, about to break for him. His hand wraps around your throat.

“You ask permission to cum sweetheart. Am i just gonna have to pull out before you make your pretty mess,” he leans in close to your ear, still pounding away,” or are you gonna be my good little cumslut and ask?”

“Please can i cum?!,” you cry, trying to delay it.

“Good girl. Cum for me.”

You moan out even louder, letting your mind and body unravel in his arms with an even more powerful orgasm than before.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it,” he growls.

Your hands go down to his body, trying to push him away, to get him to slow down as you’re screaming in an overstimulated pleasure. He takes your wrists and pins them down.

“Don’t you dare try and fight me, little girl.”

Tears are streaming down your face, his thrusts finally slowing down.

“Y-yes sir,” you barely make out.

His movements stop, lowering your legs down as he pulls out and away from you. Its not long before your legs are spread apart and pushed back.

“Now that tight little hole is nice and stretched out for me,” he says with a spank to your crotch. “Alright, you’ve proven that you can suck and take a cock, now i want you to prove that you can ride one.”

Your legs are shaking from him, numb from being pinned.

He sits down in the seat beside you, smiling at you with a shit-eating grin.

You can’t do anything but whimper and whine at him, causing him more joy.

“You gonna come on and show me, or do i need to get you up myself?”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you know it probably wont be good. You manage to move enough to sit up, catching another look at him. Part of you wonders how he ever fit inside you. Reaching down, you see some blood on your fingers.

“Wait, I’m bleeding some,” you say.

He smiles. “Thats what happens when you get your little cherry popped. Now get your ass over here.”

You raise up and climb on him, sliding back down. You whine again at the feeling of being filled.

He kisses your chest and neck, still sitting on him. “You gonna start or am i gonna have to make you, sweetheart?”

You rock your hips on him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He rests his hands around your torso, rubbing your nipples with his thumbs.

“Bounce that pretty ass and tits for me babydoll.”

You raise up and down on him, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“Thats my good girl, working those pretty little hips on me.”

You feel yourself starting to drift, all you can think about is your pleasure. Even though your legs are in pain, you can’t stop bouncing on him.

“Aw, i know that look,” he rests one of his hands on your cheek, sticking his thumb in your mouth, inviting you to suck it,” sweet little girl is cock drunk.”

Not long after, he starts gripping you tightly on your ass.

“You wanna know how it feels to get your little cunt filled?,” he growls in your ear.

“Mhmm,” you whine, your hips meeting his thrusts.

He groans, pushing you all the way down on him, his tip resting snug on your cervix.

You feel the warmth of his seed spurting into you, making you gasp. It’s an instant sensation, one that you know you want to feel again and again. Bits dribble out as you raise up and off of him. You rest against the door of the car, completely used. Even after how rough it was and how exhausted you are, it was undeniably amazing.

You both grab your clothes and put them back on, you without your underwear. You fix up your hair and whatever else was messed up on your body.

He puts his clothes back on quickly and easily.

“Alright, you held up your end, I’ll hold up mine.”

At the midst of all of that, you almost forgot what you were doing it for.

“Good. That was the deal.”

“How about i take you to one myself?,” he says.

You agree, allowing him back into the car.

He directs you further down the road, getting even deeper into the brush around. He’s been quiet on the ride there, only talking to tell you where to go. I guess you wouldn’t really want to talk if you knew that you were going to go to prison for most likely the rest of your life.

“Stop here,” he says. You’re stuck to the very end of just a patch of dirt, the road ending a while back.

You get out of the car, looking around, not seeing much.

“I don’t really see-“, you’re cut off with Johns hand wrapped around your throat. A crushing feeling, not like when he took your body, causing your body to go into fight or flight. Looking at his hand, you quickly realize your deadly mistake.

You forgot to cuff him.

You try and break his grip free around your neck. You reach down to your taser, quickly realizing your belt is also in the car.

Pure evil is the only way to describe whats in your eyes, laughing as you begin to stop struggling, vision going black.

“Oh sweetheart, there’s no body here,” he brings you closer to his face,” it’s where I’m puttin’ you.”

[dickgraysonwayne]

Today? Yesterday?

Ao3

Summary: Of all the things to kick off a time loop…

@dickgraysonweek 2024, Day 3: DILF Dick Grayson | Apologizing To Dick | Time Loop

Day 0

Dick knows it’s bad news when the man shrieks “A curse upon you!”

He changes course mid-flip, trying to predict where he’d be hit. He feels nothing, so he lands on the ground steadily, looking up at the platform where the man stands: finger pointed in his direction and a wild look on his face.

“Whoa,” Dick says, putting his arms up. “I didn’t know we were rolling like that.”

For all he had figured, this was supposed to be a quick grab-and-go rescue of a Blüdhaven mayoral candidate. She’d made a promise to clean up the city and, of course, certain groups weren’t very pleased with the concept.

Instead, he’d run into an armed-to-the-teeth gang that were not making this rescue any easier. So, he’d opted for a more subtle approach, sneaking around on rooftops until he was able to maneuver his way into a large warehouse. He’d wandered through, found a locked room in the corner, and then—

And then he’d run into…whatever this was, and the situation turned from guns&gangs to curse&magic territory.

He really hadn’t been ready for curses.

“Okay,” Dick says, eyes darting around. He needs to get to that door. “So, um. When you say curse, do you mean a plague on both your houses lamenting type curse or may you turn into a frog type curse?”

The man doesn’t clarify. “A curse,” He screeches again. “May you never find satisfaction in validation. May you be locked in a cycle of discontent. May the one who you need the most from—”

The man squacks as he’s interrupted by a Batarang to the head. Stunned, he falls backwards onto the platform and stays there.

Dick puts his arm down. “Well,” He says. “That was more…high minded than curses usually are. Very psychological.”

He hadn’t seen any physical indications of anything actually happening, but you can never be sure with this kind of thing. He hopes that whatever this was didn’t take.

“Okay,” He mutters to himself. He wishes Roy would’ve seen this, he would’ve found it hilarious. “Let’s finish this.”

He runs towards the door probably holding the promise for Blüdhaven’s future, hoping that the rest of the day goes by without any further incident.

Day 1

They’re not even in costume when it happens.

Hell, they’re not even working when it happens.

Instead, Dick finds himself making the long trip to Gotham the next morning, called in to assist with something Tim is working on. It’s something from your files, back in the day, Tim had said over the phone. Can you make your way over?

He’d slept in a bit, hoping to enjoy his Sunday. But getting to spend time with Tim is always great too, so he had agreed to make his way over.

It had taken maybe a few minutes to explain the case (Two-Face, now that was a time), before Tim had gotten what he needed. “Thanks, Dick,” Tim says, scribbling down in his notes. “I think I just need to set up a trap, and then we’ll be all good here.”

“Need any help?” Dick asks, tapping his fingers on the table, feeling restless.

“If you’re staying,” Tim says. “I’ll be going out at, like, 2300 so. You sticking around?”

Dick shrugs. “Sure,” He says. “Since I’m here. B around?”

“Yeah,” Tim says, sitting back into a stretch. “He’s workin’ on something else, I dunno.”

“Look at you!” Dick says, messing with his hair. “Solo mission guy over here!”

“Quit it!” Tim says, batting his hand away. “I’ve been solo mission guy!”

Dick laughs. “Hey,” He says, getting off of the chair. “You wanna go get some burgers or something? There’s still a long way to go til 2300 hours.”

“Sure,” Tim says, languidly getting up. “Man, I feel like I’ve been sitting here for ages.”

-

And that’s when, whilst heading over to grab a burger in town, Dick tells Tim about his encounter the day before.

“It was pretty insane,” He tells him as they pull out of the manor’s driveway. “The whole curse thing made me a little nervous, not gonna lie. That stuff gives me the heebie jeebies. But I got up just fine today, everything totally normal. So either the dude didn’t actually get me, or he was talking a big game.”

Tim frowns. “That’s a little weird,” He says, taking a sip of water from his Robin branded water bottle. “You should be careful though. You never know with magic.”

Dick nods vigorously. “Exactly!” He says, making his way to the manor’s large gate. “There aren’t any rules or anything to watch out for. You just gotta wait and see for something to happen before you can do anything about it.”

Tim’s frown only deepens. “I don’t know about that,” He says. “Maybe you should go talk to Zatanna. I dunno, I wouldn’t mess with this stuff. Have her check you over or something.”

“Yeah, but it’s not even a guarantee with her,” Dick says, waiting for the gate to open. “Sometimes magic doesn’t show up or whatever even when she checks. It’s a total crapshoot. But the smart idea still would be to check anyway—”

He jumps as Tim loses his grip on his water bottle, spilling it over his lap and the seat. “Ah, shit!” Tim says, hurriedly picking the bottle back up.

“No worries, Timbo,” Dick says, grabbing some tissues from the side of the door. “It’s just water.”

“I know,” Tim says. “Even so, though, I’m sorry-”

Everything stops.

Day 2

Dick wakes up.

He blinks up at his apartment ceiling. Damn, he thinks, yawning deeply. That was one hell of a dream. He feels around on his bedside table for his phone, then blinks at the numbers on top: 08:04

Damn. Slept in.

That curse must’ve really been playing in his thoughts, to follow him into his dreams like that. Unless it was a curse about dreams, which means it was now starting to work…

Dick shakes his head. He can’t think like that. If he does, it’s never going to end.

He levers himself up, stretching again. He’s going to enjoy his Sunday morning before updating his reports on the night before, maybe figure out what to do about the whole curse thing…

His phone buzzes, and he picks it back up. Tim.

Curious, and trying to push away the ominous feeling in his gut, he answers.

-

Okay. So this is a little weird. But, hey. It’s not like he’s never had a dream about hanging out with Tim before. It’s a perfectly normal thing for him to do. Plus, well, he has been keeping an eye on Gotham. Maybe he’d subconsciously known that something was going on, that Tim would reach out to him for help…

And then it had gotten weirder. But. Still explainable. If he’d been keeping an eye out on Gotham, maybe he’d figured out somewhere back in his mind that Two-Face was going to be the problem…

“Thanks, Dick,” Tim says, scribbling down in his notes. “I think I just need to set up a trap, and then we’ll be all good here.”

“Hm,” Dick says. He taps on the table, feeling off. “Okay.”

“Dick?”

He looks up. Tim is looking at him, concern in his eyes. “Everything good? You seem a little…distracted.”

“Oh,” Dick says, trying to pull himself together. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m just…you know. In my head a little. There’s a whole—” He waves it off. “I’ll explain later. Um, you gonna need any help on your mission?”

“If you’re staying,” Tim says, still eyeing him with concern. “I’ll be going out at, like, 2300 or so. You sticking around?”

The Deja Vu hits him even harder. “Sure,” He says. “Hey. Is this a solo mission?”

Tim gives him a small smile. “Yeah,” He says. “I’ve been doing them for a while now. B’s working on his own thing, I’m working on mine.”

“Nice, Timmy,” Dick says, finding a smile for him in return. “Hey, wanna go get something to eat? I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.” He shoots to his feet, needing to move, needing to do something.

“Um,” Tim says, stumbling up with him. “Yeah, sure. Yeah let’s get…let’s get burgers, or something.”

Dick nods, fast walking his way out. An icy feeling grows in his stomach.

-

“What were you saying earlier?”

Dick starts, looking away from the slowly opening gate. “Hm?”

“You had a whole,” and Tim makes a circle gesture with his hands. “Thing you were thinking about. What was it?”

“Oh,” Dick says. “Well. Um. I had a little…run-in yesterday. Some guy yelled that he was gonna put a curse on me. And, like, I didn’t feel anything off or anything like that. But today…I don’t know. It’s all weird today. Like majorly Deja Vu or something.”

Tim frowns. “That’s weird,” He says, taking a sip of water. “You should be careful though. You never know with magic. In fact, you should probably—”

“Go to Zatanna, I know,” Dick says distractedly. “I will. I think I should. After our mission today, I will. It’s just…nothing specific, you know? Just an off feeling.”

The gate opens, and Dick quickly turns to the side. “Hey—”

He catches Tim’s water bottle, just as Tim drops it.

“Oh!” Tim says, flinching back. “Hey. Nice catch.”

Dick hands it back to him, mind spinning.

“I don’t know what happened,” Tim continues. “I wasn’t paying attention, I guess, sorry—”

Everything stops.

Day 3

Dick wakes up.

He shoots up in bed with a gasp. He throws his sheets off of him then lunges at his phone, unlocking the screen to check the day and time. Sunday. 08:04.

He falls back into bed, phone clutched tightly in his hand. Okay, He thinks, slightly hysterical. Okay. This is…this is probably the curse, huh? This is probably the curse.

What had the man said again? Something about…validation. Satisfaction in validation. And a cycle of discontent.

Well. That’s the cycle part figured, then. He’s gonna keep resetting until he breaks whatever curse this is. So, all he needs to do is figure out exactly what it is that’s going on that’s causing the resets, and he should be good to go. Right?

“Okay,” He tells himself. “Okay, what were the factors that set this off? What made me reset?”

The obvious answer, is, of course, Tim.

He thinks on this for a moment. He’ll need to tell Tim everything, brainstorm through the issue with him. He’s smart, he’ll probably help him figure this out…

His phone rings. He looks down. Tim.

He picks up.

“Hey, Dick,” Tim says. “So, I’m working on something—”

“I’m on my way,” Dick says, running to his closest to grab something. “Just gimme a—”

“Hey,” Tim says, confusion clear in his voice. “It’s okay, there’s no emergency or anything, I just need your help with something.”

“I know,” Dick says. “And I can do that. But I need your help with something too. Buckle up, it’s a weird one.”

-

“Time loop?” Tim says, eyes wide.

“Time loop.” Dick confirms with a nod.

Tim sits back in his chair, baffled. “Well,” He says. “The good news is that you’ve only just started on this, I guess. Maybe you won’t have to deal with it for much longer.”

Dick groans, going facedown on the table’s surface. “Don’t do that,” He says, voice muffled. “You just jinxed me.”

“Shut up,” Tim says, but he sounds distant. “What did the guy say again?”

Dick lifts his head. “He cursed me with never finding satisfaction in validation,” He says. “And told me I’d be stuck in a cycle of discontent. And then he started saying something about a person I’d need it from before I stopped him.”

“Hm,” Tim says, steepling his fingers together. “And when you went through the days with me, it reset at about the same time both times?”

“Yeah,” Dick side eyes him. “You’ve got your I-have-an-idea face there, Timbo.”

“I do not,” Tim says, making his I-have-an-idea face. “Well. I do have an idea…not a very specific one, but still.”

Dick raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“There’s a specific series of events,” Tim begins, “That lead to your reset. I speak with you, you come here, we discuss the case, we go out to get food, I drop my water, and then you wake up. Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. “That’s right.”

“So,” Tim says. “What if we disrupt it? We break the chain of events. And then we can see from there. It could be time related. Did we leave at about the same time both days? Did the reset happen at about the same time both days?”

Dick thinks about it for a second. “You know what…” He says slowly. “Yeah. It did. Around…12:30, I wanna say?”

“Okay,” Tim says. “So let’s stay in. And then wait for 12:30. Disrupt the chain of events, and then see if you reset or not. And if you don’t…we’ll know it’s not time dependent, and we can try to work on it from there.”

“Timbo,” Dick says, beaming at him. “That’s a great idea. You’re great!”

Tim blushes. “Come on,” He says. “Stop it. It’s just an idea. I didn’t even think about what the actual phrasing of the curse could actually mean.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dick says, grinning. “It’s a start! And if I don’t reset at 12:30…it means we’re making progress! And maybe I won’t have to be stuck in this, which I would very much appreciate.”

Tim smiles back. “Well,” He says. “If you do reset, come find me, okay? We can pick up where we left off, and you can explain everything we’ve tried so far.”

“You’re the best, Timmy,” Dick says. He checks his phone. “I think we’ll find out soon, anyway. We hit 12:30 in about half an hour, so. We’ll know then.”

Tim nods at him. “Okay,” He says, sighing. “So. We wait.”

-

Half an hour passes with the speed of molasses. Dick can’t sit still the entire time: his knee jumps constantly, he fiddles with anything he can get his hands on, he gets up and paces on occasion.

Fifteen minutes in, Tim looks at him askance. “That isn’t helping you, Dick,” He says, clearly trying to be patient with him. “Sit down. Nap, or something. Wait, actually don’t. Go watch puppy videos on your phone, or something.”

“As cute as that sounds,” Dick says. “I don’t think that’s gonna help.”

Tim sighs. “You’re so fidgety,” He complains. “You must have been such a nightmare child. I feel like apologizing to Bruce on your behalf.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Dick defends. “If anything, Bruce needs to apologize to me for not being able to manage my energy.”

Tim grins. “Well,” He says. “Can’t say I disagree with you on that.” He checks his phone. “Okay,” He says, countenance turning entirely. “Minute to go. Tell me if you start feeling weird, or something.”

Dick nods, shifting nervously. “Will do,” He says, then starts counting time in his head. 60, 59, 58…

He makes it to the last few, 4, 3, 2, 1, then braces himself.

Nothing happens.

Dick turns to Tim. “I feel normal,” He tells him. “No resetting feeling or anything going on from here!”

“Let’s wait a little longer, Tim says, eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe there’s a specific time to the minute or second to hit, and we haven’t gotten there yet.”

Dick groans. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” He says, sitting down again. “Okay. Let’s wait.”

Another fifteen minutes pass. Then twenty.

And still nothing.

Dick turns to Tim again, eyebrows raised. “It looks like I’m still good,” He says. “I think we can say that I’m in the clear?”

Tim nods. “Looks like,” He says. “So it’s not time dependent. Nor chain of events dependent. There has to be a trigger here. We have to find out what it is.”

Dick nods, tapping a finger to his knee. “Satisfaction in validation,” He mutters. “So that means…it’s something where I got validated for something? When did that happen in the previous resets?”

Tim frowns. “Let’s try to go through your day,” He says. “Specific things you did. Specific things you said. Maybe we’ll figure it out that way.”

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. “My memory isn’t as good as yours,” He says, running through his days in his head. “And…I don’t know, the details are kinda fuzzy. But I’ll try.”

“I know, Tim says, not unsympathetic. “It’s not easy, sorry—”

Everything stops.

Day 4

Dick wakes up.

Shit, he thinks. It’s unnecessary at this point, but he checks his phone again. Sunday. 08:04.

He taps his phone to his chin, frustrated. Right. So, it clearly isn’t a Tim-specific problem. Or, maybe it is? Maybe it’s the combination of location and person?

If that’s the case…maybe if he just doesn’t go, then he doesn’t reset.

Satisfaction in validation.

He still isn’t sure about that one. But if he can hack it by breaking the curse without figuring that out, then he’ll take it.

Anyway, if he stays away from Tim for the day, he might figure out how long it’ll let him go before it resets. Will it go on forever, until he sees Tim. Will he have to avoid him for a while? Can’t let that happen, He thinks. That would be ridiculous.

He really should give Zatanna a call. She might be able to break the curse without even needing to figure that part out.

His phone rings, and he picks up without even looking the screen. “Hey Timmy,” He says, deciding not to try to tip him off that anything was amiss. “How’s it going?”

“Hey Dick,” Tim responds, “I’ve got something here—”

“Okay Tim,” Dick says, going to get his day started (again). “If you need my help with something, I’m all in. But I’ve got something I gotta go do, so I can’t actually come over. Is it something you can send me? Promise I’ll help out.”

“Sure,” Tim says, sounding a bit taken aback. “Yeah, no worries. Thanks for the help, Dick. I’ll send it to you now. Standby.”

“Thanks, Timmy. See ya.” Dick says, disconnecting, and feeling a little bad about the whole thing. He’d usually jump at any opportunity or hang out, which Tim knows. He doesn’t think he’d hurt his feelings or anything, but he still does feel a bit guilty for blowing him off like that.

It’s for a good cause, He thinks. I’ll come by to see him when all this is over.

He thinks about Tim’s directive to come see him during the next reset. Sorry, buddy. Maybe if I reset again. So, what can he do? How does he go about solving this problem?

He gets ready, thinking about how to go about his day. Maybe I should call Zatanna, He thinks, putting his jacket on. And hopefully she’ll be able to see me now.

Dick heads out of his apartment, not having a particular plan in mind. He pulls out his phone, considering giving Zatanna that call. He scrolls through his contacts, hovering over her name, conflicted.

As he goes to open the doors to his building’s stairwell, they suddenly swing open in his direction. Startled, he steps back, just about missing being flattened by the door.

One of his neighbors emerges, almost bumping into him. “Oh my god,” The man says. “I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry—”

Everything stops.

Day 5

Dick wakes up.

Sunday. 08:04.

He sighs, leaning back against his pillow. Take 5, I guess.

Right. Okay, so. It’s pretty clear what’s causing this now.

Satisfaction in validation. Apology.

If he receives an apology, no matter who it’s from, then his day resets.

He can’t believe he hadn’t noticed before. Both times with Tim and the water bottle, he’d apologized to trigger the time loop. In the non water bottle day, Tim’s “sorry” had triggered it. With his neighbor, the apology from the door had triggered it. Getting it from a new person had really brought it home.

So, solutions?

He sits back up, holding his phone, waiting for Tim’s call. The obvious play would be to just…not receive any apologies. While it’s easier said than done, it would definitely give him an idea of what’s going on, and help him test how far this loop is going to let him do. Could he go days, weeks, even years without an apology, then receive one and loop back around? That would be a problem.

Well. Maybe he can test it out, just for today. A no-apology-day.

The phone rings. He picks it up. “Hey, Timmy,” He says. “How’re you doing?”

“Hey Dick,” Tim responds, “I’ve got something here—”

Well. If he wants to be left alone today…

“Oh yeah, Tim,” Dick says, trying his best to remember his earlier statement. “If you need my help with something I’m ready. But I’ve got something i have to do today, so I can’t actually come over. Can you send me the files and I’ll give you a call about them later? I’d come if I could, promise.”

“Sure,” Tim says, and he sounds the same as last time, excellent. “Yeah, no worries. Thanks for the help, Dick. I’ll send it to you now. Standby.”

“See ya Timbo,” Dick says, disconnecting with a sigh. It’s more waiting, then. And this time, he’s gonna have to do it alone.

-

Staying away from people all day is difficult.

He knows he’s got a reputation as a people-person, but that’s only because he has the fortune to be in probably the most socially awkward family in history. He actually doesn’t mind a little alone time every now and then.

This, though? This is total isolation. And, while he’s wired and worried and anxious, is a tough thing for him to overcome.

He spends the first part of his day working on the stuff Tim sent him. He’d seen it all before, of course, but he makes sure to really pour over the information, adding a lot of very detailed explanations and analyses. He hopes this doesn’t make Tim suspicious (who is he kidding? Of course it will) but hopefully he won’t have enough time to actually act on his suspicions before Dick can hopefully move on to phase two of his curse-breaker plan.

After he sends all his notes to Tim, he finds himself left with hours and hours of time and people to avoid. Which, actually, is harder than he’d anticipated.

He spends the rest of the day from late afternoon fielding calls. As a general rule, Dick always picks up (just in case. You never know who’s using a burner). But man, he hasn’t realized exactly how many people call him until he wanted to avoid talking. After checking to see if anyone was in any immediate danger (they were not) he’d make his excuses and hop off swiftly before anyone got it their minds to give him an apology of some kind.

Not to mention the texts. And half of them aren’t even work stuff: just Wally sending him memes, or Donna sending him memes, or Babs sending him another article on the activities of the Red Hood, or Amy sending him memes, or Clark sending his weekly “good afternoon 😊” texts that he somehow manages to stick to every single week. Dick doesn’t know if apology-by-text would count here, and it is a minefield navigating conversations to make sure that the word is never sent from the other end.

“Sorry” is, in Dick’s opinion, very overused.

As for the rest of his time in self-induced isolation, he tries to keep himself busy. The TV is on, and he scrolls through all the things he’d put on his watch later list on streaming services (he watches nothing). He picks up a book he’d planned to trying (only to put it down minutes later, unable to concentrate). He tries stretching and running through some gentle warmup exercises (this one takes).

Overall, it’s not an experience he’s keen on repeating. If I make it 24 hours without looping, he tells himself firmly. I’m going to call Zatanna.

It probably would’ve been smarter to start with her, like Tim had said, but hey. The more info he can give her about how this works, the easier time she’ll have lifting it.

He makes it to the evening, and then into the night without further incident. Thankfully, Tim hadn’t tried to call him back. Nor did, to his relief, Bruce. Bruce would probably see through him in a heartbeat, and involving him in this would be a headache and a half to deal with.

As time ticks down to midnight, Dick feels exhaustion wash over him, thanks to the nervous tension he’d held on to the entire day. No he tells himself, staring at the blurry numbers on his phone. Stay awake.

Once midnight passes, maybe he can take a nap. Then he can figure out what to do next.

He rubs at his eyes, glancing at his phone again. 23:59.

Well, he’s almost done with the full day. This should give him a good idea of how this curse wo—

12:00

Everything stops.

Day 6

Dick wakes up.

Sunday. 08:04.

He doesn’t even wait for the phone call this time. Instead, he scrolls through his contacts, tapping on Zatana’s name with a determined finality.

-

“Ah. Well, that seems like an issue, doesn’t it?”

Dick groans, putting his head in his hands. “Yeah,” He says, voice muffled between his fingers. “It really is. Thanks for coming to help break it. I couldn’t risk going out to you.”

A hand pats his head. “No problem,” Zatanna says, sounding amused. “And, look. Could be worse. You’re, what, a week in? Not too bad. And with the myriad of curses out there? This is a pretty light one, comparatively speaking.”

Dick sighs, dropping his hands on his lap. “I guess,” He says. “So. What’s the deal here? Can you break this…whatever it is?”

“Let me check,” Zatanna puts a hand on his head and closes her eyes. Her hand glows into a warm, white light, and he feels a sense of peace wash over him…

She takes her hand away. “There’s definitely something there,” She says, sitting back down across from him. “But. I’ll tell you right now, it’s more risk than it’s worth to break from my end.”

Dick frowns. “What’s the risk?” He asks.

Zatanna shrugs. “Since I don’t know the magician, or the source of the magic,” She says. “I’d have to go with a general curse break. It would require a lot of energy from both our sides, and then you would need to keep feeding the break from your own energy. It takes too long, or you don’t have enough? Well…it would be risky, let’s just say that. It wouldn’t be worth it for a relatively low stakes curse like this.”

“Okay,” Dick says. “Yeah. I see your point. So,” He crosses his arms. “What do you think? How would I break this and resolve the time loop normally?”

Zatanna goes over to his fridge, pulls out a water bottle. “Here,” She says, giving it to him.

Dick takes it, confused. “Will drinking this solve it?”

Zatanna laughs. “It’s just water,” She says, sitting back down next to him. “You look dehydrated. Okay. I need your memory recall.”

Dick takes a sip. “Okay,” He says.

“We need to go through the exact wording of the curse,” She says. “Figure out exactly what you were cursed with, and then resolve it. Probably the best way to deal with it would be to confront it directly.”

Dick frowns. “Okay,” He says, going through the memory. “Exact wording? I went through this with Tim earlier. Um,” He thinks for a moment. “May you never find satisfaction in validation. May you be locked in a cycle of discontent. May the one who you need the most from—” He stops. “He cut off there.”

“Huh,” Zatanna says. She looks elegant even when she’s confused. “That’s…verbose.”

“Tell me about it,” Dick says. “Anyway. I think I’ve figured out what the first two parts mean. Satisfaction in validation probably refers to the apologies, because every loop occurred right after I got one. Cycle of discontent is probably the loop, because, well, I’ve been looping. The third part got interrupted, so I don’t know if it went through…”

Zatanna gives him a piercing stare. “Interesting,” She says. “Wait a moment. Let me try something.”

Dick nods. “Go for it.”

She looks directly at him, mouth curled up in a slight smile. “I’m sorry,” She says.

Dick flinches, slamming his eyes shut. A moment later, he opens them to find Zatanna still sitting across from him, eyes sparkling.

“Why’d you do that?” Dick demands, heart pounding. “At least warn me first.”

Zatanna laughs. “I know,” She says. “I needed to check something. So. It looks like the apology needs to be sincere in order to trigger the reset.”

“Oh,” Dick says. “Okay. I see what you did. So this is better, right? Just hearing sorry won’t be enough to catapult me back?”

“Yes,” Zatanna says. “I have to tell you, though. I think this just made the curse break a lot more complicated.”

Dick frowns. “How so?”

“Well,” Zatanna says. “The third part of the curse. That’s the key to breaking it. He may not have finished the phrase but he started it, which should’ve been enough to make it stick. It looks like you’re gonna have to hear an apology from a specific person, a sincere apology, in order the break the curse.”

Dick breaks out into a smile. “Thanks, Z,” He says. “Should be easy enough, right? I have to tell you, I was expecting something a lot more—”

He trails off at the sympathetic look on her face. “What?” He asks, an ominous feeling settling over him. “What is it?”

“Well,” She says. “The wording says ‘the one who you need the most from’ is the person you’ll need to get the sincere apology from. Tell me, who do you think that is?”

Dick turns it over in his mind for a moment, then…

Bruce…A voice in his head whispers. It sounds like his own, but not.

He freezes. “Oh no.”

“Yeah,” Zatanna says, exuding sympathy again. “I think we both know who that should be.”

“How do you know?” He asks, heart pounding. “Are we even thinking of the same person?”

“Oh, please,” Zatanna says. “Who else could it be? We can confirm it though. Does he dress like a bat and fight crime?”

Dick groans. “Oh my god,” He says. “How am I even gonna do that? Get a sincere apology from him? I can’t even talk to him most of the time.”

“You’ll have to, to break the curse.” Zatanna says. Dick takes another sip of water. “And remember, you only have til midnight of the same day to do it.”

“A deadline,” Dick says, despairing. “Even better.”

“Right,” Zatanna says. “So you have a plan, then? Know where you’re going?”

“Yeah,” He says. “I just have to come up with an idea…”

“You’ll probably need the full day,” Zatanna says. “So allow me, okay? Good luck.”

Dick frowns at her. “What do you mea—”

She looks him right in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

Everything stops.

Day 7

Dick wakes up.

Sunday. 08:04.

He groans, considering just going back to sleep and dealing with this again tomorrow. Today. Yesterday. Whatever.

Because, well. Getting Bruce involved? That’s gonna be a whole ordeal.

Not to mention, getting Bruce to give him a sincere apology in less than a day? Talk about an impossible task.

He might as well get started now. He’ll need all the time he can get.

The phone rings.

“Hey, Timbo,” Dick says. “How’s it going?”

-

In many ways, this day plays out a lot like the first one.

He shows up at Tim’s invitation, then takes him through the case that he now knows like the back of his hand. Tim’s shocked but impressed, and it’s really amusing even though he’s kind of cheating.

“Thanks, Dick,” Tim says, scribbling down in his notes. “I think I just need to set up a trap, and then we’ll be all good here.”

And here’s where the divergence has to happen.

Dick nods. “No worries,” He says. “Hey. Bruce around?”

“Yeah,” Tim says. “He’s around here somewhere, probably down in the Cave. Why?”

“Gotta talk to him,” He says, standing up. He ruffles Tim’s hair on the way. “See you later.”

He can’t tip them off. If the apology needs to be sincere, Bruce cant be aware that it has to be, or the sincerity is gone. Right?

It’s gonna be a challenge either way, and he takes the route down to the cave in a grim sort of silence.

He taps on the large wall twice as he walks in, sound echoing across the cave. “Hey, Bruce,” He says, heart pounding. “How’s it going?”

Bruce is sitting at the computer, staring at bits of data that only make sense to him. “Dick,” He acknowledges, without turning around. “Working on this. You been hearing about what’s going on in New York?”

“Hm?” Dick goes through his non-time-loop-related memory bank. “Oh. You mean…the alien incident? Yeah. Why, is that relevant to us?”

“Maybe,” Bruce says, still staring at the screen. “Possibly. There’s something there…”

He trails off. Dick is familiar with the pauses, so he waits patiently.

He’s putting it off. Time is of the essence, and he’s putting it off. But goddamn. He really does not want to do this.

The only thing he can think of doing at this point is to go in bluntly. He doesn’t have time to plan a more nuanced approach, and Bruce’ll probably see right through it anyway.

Here we go, Dick thinks, before taking a deep breath. “Bruce,” He says, and he can barely get the words out. “We need to talk, okay?”

He’s not sure if it’s the words or the tone that gets Bruce’s attention, but it works. Right away, Bruce whirls around in his chair. His focus, previously fully on the screen in front of him, is now concentrated entirely on Dick. “What is it?” Bruce asks, and he staring at him like he’s able to see right into his brain, like he’s reading through his thoughts one by one.

The weight of his attention is almost too much to bear. “Um,” He says, taking another breath. “It’s. Well. It’s kind of a long story.”

Bruce isn’t moved. “You’re sacred,” He observes, leaning closer. “What is it? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

Dick lets out a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure. “Do you trust me?” He asks.

This probably doesn’t help with Bruce’s concern. His eyes narrow. “Why?” He asks. “What’s wrong?”

“If you do,” Dick says. “I need you to trust me on this. Um. I need an apology, okay?”

Whatever Bruce had anticipated he’d say, it was clearly not this. “What.” He says flatly, more of a statement than a question.

“I…” Dick says, feeling like he’d made a mistake with his approach. “I need you to say sorry, okay? To me.”

Bruce is, uncharacteristically, shocked into silence. He sits back, face impassive, eyes confused. “For what?” He finally asks, when Dick doesn’t elaborate further.

Of all the questions…“Anything,” Dick says, and he feels his face grow hot. “Pick something. There’s a lot… I just need a verbal apology from you, okay? And you need to mean it.”

Bruce’s face finally cracks, settling on a frown. “What is this?” He asks, voice rising. “Where is this coming from?”

“You trust me, right?” Dick says, an edge of desperation to his voice. “I need you to do this. Please.”

He thinks the plea will be enough. It isn’t.

Bruce just stares at him. “What is this?” He repeats, then: “Tell me this: how old were you when I fired you?”

Dick’s stomach drops. “Bruce,” He says. “It’s me. I’m me, you don’t need to check—”

“How old?” Bruce snaps. Dick can see his hands drift to his belt.

He exhales. “Seventeen,” He says, conceding defeat. “It was after I got shot.”

Bruce’s hands pause right before they get to his weapons. “Then,” He says. “Why are you asking this? You’re not making any sense.”

“I know,” Dick says. “But…I’ll explain later. I just need this from you. Please.”

Bruce grits his teeth. “I can’t do that unless I know..”

Dick stares at him. “You won’t?” He asks. “You’re not gonna trust me on this?”

Bruce doesn’t answer, still eyeing him suspiciously.

Dick tastes defeat on his tongue. Embarrassment, rage, and sadness battle in his throat. “Fine,” He says shortly, turning around. “I’ll…I’ll go then. See you tomorrow.”

Bruce doesn’t go after him.

-

Dick gets back home and goes right to his apartment, slamming the door shut as he enters.

He’ll need another plan tomorrow. Today. Yesterday. But, for now…

For now, he sits and stares at the time until it hits midnight.

Day 8

Dick wakes up.

He doesn’t even bother to check the date and time, jumping out of bed and grabbing for his clothes.

Okay. New plan. New approach. But what? Straightforward isn’t going to work. Subtle isn’t going to work. What’s left to him now? How can he possibly get Bruce to apologize to him and mean it?

He freezes in the middle of putting on a sock. Maybe…maybe he wasn’t doing enough earlier. Maybe he needs to get more straightforward. God knows Bruce can pull out sincerity when he needs it. Maybe hearing that the world is in a time loop that only he can break will do enough.

Grimly, he pulls the rest of the sock on. He’ll be able to tell Tim this way too, and maybe the both of them can convince Bruce of doing this together.

The phone rings. He grabs it. “Timmy,” He says. “It’s Two Face, by the way. Your case. You’ll just need to set your trap for tonight, and you’re golden.”

There’s a short silence, then: “How did you know that?” Tim asks, baffled. Dick can practically hear him peering at all corners of his room. “How—”

“I’m on my way, okay?” Dick says, grabbing his keys. “I’ll explain everything when I get there.”

-

“Time loop?” Tim says, eyes wide.

“Time loop.” Dick confirms with a nod.

“Damn,” Tim says, shaking his head. “And I told you to keep coming to me to figure this out and you didn’t? Lame. This could’ve been over by now.”

Dick huffs a laugh. “Honestly,” he says, shrugging. “You might be right.”

“How’re you gonna…you know?” Tim says, giving him a sideways glance. “Get Bruce to agree? Think cluing him in to all this is gonna help?”

“It has to, right?” Dick says, sighing. “I mean, asking him to do it didn’t work. If he knows it’s a time loop, then he’ll try.”

“But what if trying is the problem,” Tim says, and Dick stops him before he can continue.

“I know,” Dick says. “I considered that one too. But we have to try. The other way didn’t work, and if this does then we’re golden. If not…then I guess I’ll have to try something else.”

Tim rubs his head. “Well,” he says. “At least you get a bunch of do overs, free of charge. It’s not even a this-place-kinda-sucks Groundhog Day situation.”

Dick can only laugh. “Yeah,” He says. “We’re only on round 8, too. Haven’t even reached double digits yet.”

“Light work,” Tim scoffs, then stands up. “C’mon. Let’s go tell Bruce now.”

“Yeah,” Dick says, the familiar dread starting to form in his stomach. “Okay, let’s go.”

When they make their way down to the Cave, Bruce is exactly where Dick had left him. Staring at the a screen, contemplating the information within.

“Dick,” Bruce says, almost like an announcement. I know that you’re there. “Come take a look at this. You been hearing about what’s going on in New York?”

“Yeah,” Dick says, making his way over. He doesn’t look at the screen. “I couldn’t tell you if it’s relevant or not to us, though. But, Bruce. Listen. I need your help with something.”

“Hm?” Bruce says. His eyes stay on the screen, but Dick can tell that he’s listening. “What is it?”

Dick gives a side glance to Tim. Tim gives him a thumbs up. “Well,” He begins. I seem to have found myself in a…time loop situation. Groundhog Day style.”

This interests Bruce enough that he turns around, pinning Dick with a very familiar searching look. “Time loop?” He asks, then. “Report.”

“I got cursed,” Dick says, keeping it short and simple. “In Blüdhaven. I’ve completed about 7 resets so far. The loop triggers whenever I get an apology, and when the day ends. I spoke with Zatanna during one of the resets, and she told me that I essentially got cursed with needing to hear a sincere apology from…well, you. And if you do that, it’ll stop the loop.”

Bruce barely flinches. Dick’s kind of impressed despite himself. “Hm,” Bruce says, eyeing him critically. “Is this verifiable?”

“It is,” Tim chimes in. “He knew about the thing I’m working on. Knew the questions I was gonna ask him before I was able to do it.”

“Interesting,” Bruce says. “Well. An apology, you say?”

Dick shrugs. “Yeah,” He says, “Should be easy enough, right? It had to be sincere to work, though. The word itself doesn’t trigger anything. It’s more like the word plus the intention.”

Bruce considers him further. “Right,” He says, almost to himself. “Well then. My apologies.”

Dick waits. Nothing happens.

“You have to mean it, Bruce,” He tries. “Just…anything. Anything you have any guilt about. It should work.”

Bruce looks him in the eye, holds contact for a few second, then darts a glance to the side. “I’m sorry,” He says. It sounds somber, real.

Another beat. Nothing happens.

“Are you sure?” Bruce says, and Dick makes an annoyed sound. “That this is supposed to be me?”

“Pretty sure,” Dick says, already tired of the conversation.

“Why?” Bruce says. He gets up, clearly getting into detective-mode. “What did the curse say exactly? I need precise details.”

Dick sighs. “Bruce…”

Tim sidles up to him. “Dude,” He says, sympathetically. “Sorry.”

Both their eyes go wide at the same time before—

Everything stops.

Day 9

Dick wakes up.

He knows what’s gonna happen, but feels the need to check anyway:

Sunday. 08:04.

Great.

Well. He’s still chasing this Bruce angle, so he needs to up back to the manor for take 3 there. One more round of loops, and I’ll hit double digits. He thinks.

The straightforward approach didn’t work. Telling him the situation didn’t work. So he’s going to need to be more subtle with it, try to manipulate the situation into getting an apology.

Dick shakes his head. How is he going to do that, when Bruce has never apologized to him for anything big that he’d done?

Well. He doesn’t have a choice, does he? If this fails, maybe he’ll make a PowerPoint presentation of all the relevant points, and maybe Bruce will be convinced enough to apologize…

He’s getting ahead of himself. He should just try this round and see…

He grabs his phone, dials Tim.

“Hey!” Tim picks up. “I was literally just about to call you.”

“Oh, great,” Dick says, grabbing his shirt. “What a cool coincidence. I just wanted to check with you if Bruce is around, I wanted to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” Tim says. “Mind if I pick your brain before you go in?”

“Sure,” Dick says. He doesn’t want to alert Tim’s suspicions. “I’m on my way.”

-

Dick stops right outside the Cave, indecision burning away at him.

He needs a battle plan. If he doesn’t go in fully prepared, Bruce is gonna pry him apart in seconds.

Okay, He thinks to himself. Be friendly. Be open. Be helpful. And then…pick a fight. But don’t yell. Act hurt. And see

Oh, this is gonna go great.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he saunters into the cave, tapping at the wall twice. “Hey, Bruce,” He greets. “What’s up?”

Bruce is sitting at the computer, staring at bits of data that only make sense to him. “Dick,” He acknowledges, without turning around. “Working on this. You been hearing about what’s going on in New York?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. He approaches the screen, actually looking at the information this time. “Why? Think it’s something we should look at?”

He tries to include himself in the discussion, signaling to Bruce that he’s here to help.

It works. “Maybe,” Bruce thinks. This time, he gestures to Dick to come forward. “If you look here,” He points. “The origin of these beings seems…oddly familiar.”

Dick nods, barely processing the information. He keeps looking for a way in, a way to fall into an argument. “Sure,” He says. How is he going to do this? How is he ever going to get Bruce to say sorry? “You think it’s…uh….”

The words get stuck in his throat.

Bruce looks at him. “Dick?” He asks.

His voice sounds so genuine in that moment that Dick almost can’t handle it. “I’m good,” He says. His voice cracks. “Yeah, I’m good. Just…uh. I’m good.”

Oh boy. This is going great.

Shut up. He tells himself. Pull yourself together.

He looks down at his hands. They’re shaking.

He feels himself being pushed into a chair. “Dick?” A pair of hands grabs his face, lifts it up. He sees Bruce peering into his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Dick chuckles between breaths. “Nothing,” He says, trying to get himself back under control. “I’m good.”

“Clearly not,” Bruce eyes him. “Hold on. I’m going to do an assessment.” He pats Dick’s shoulder. “Stay calm.”

“I am,” Dick insists. He’s mostly embarrassed, really. His hands are still shaking.

In no time at all, he feels his head being yanked back over the top of the chair. A bright light is shined in his eyes.

He hisses, the sudden change in position confusing him. Pain radiates through his neck. “Sorry,” Bruce says, offhandedly, peering into his face. “Need to do this. You don’t look like you have a head injury…”

But Dick…

Dick has…

Sorry…

The word echoes in his head. Did he just…

He gets a feeling like a bucket of ice water has been thrown on him. Everything around him comes into focus with a scary amount of clarity.

Bruce clearly feels a difference, because he pauses. “Dick?” He asks again.

Dick blinks. Once. Twice. “I’m okay,” He gasps. He thinks he means it this time. “I’m okay.”

-

Bruce had been reluctant to send him home after that.

Dick doesn’t blame him. He’d completely fallen apart right then and there and probably scared the shit out of him, so.

And, well. His panic had been clear in the fact that. That he’d apologized. And…and it may have broken the curse? He thinks? He’s no expert, but there’s only one way to find out, really.

So, Bruce’s absolute insistence that he stay the night didn’t push his buttons the way it usually would. Instead, he gives in to the pushing. He’s too tired not to.

Plus, once Bruce got Alfred involved…there was no way he was gonna get away after that.

That’s why Dick finds himself in his childhood bedroom hours later, staring at the stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars and moons on the ceiling.

Satisfaction in validation. He thinks, then. Suck it.

He should probably go back to the warehouse anyway. Can’t have the dude going ahead cursing other people willy-nilly. Next time, he’ll bring Zatanna.

Bruce apologized. He thinks. It still blows him away. He actually apologized.

Not for anything major, either. Just…just in the moment, not even thinking about it. The words slipped out, just like that. Like he did it all the time.

Dick thinks he should be feeling some type of way about that. That it should resolve at something inside of him, at the thing that’s been there ever since he was seventeen years old.

May you never find satisfaction in validation..

He shakes it off. Maybe he would feel differently if it was a bigger apology. Or maybe it hasn’t quite sunk in yet. Either way. He’s pretty sure that the curse has lifted, but he’s not gonna count it a done deal until he hits the next day without incident.

May you never find satisfaction in validation…

Dick keeps an eye out on his phone, trying his best to stay awake.

The time ticks down…

12:00.

He draws a breath, then another. He waits.

Monday. 12:01.

He drops his phone on the bed, breathing deeply. I did it. He thinks. I did it.

May you never find satisfaction in validation

He swallows all the feelings still simmering below the surface, then drops off to sleep.

[mrzombielover]

Omg I NEED a Price nsfw alphabet PLEASEEEE😭😭

price is soo daddy lana del rey coded i love him

nsfw warning (obviously) also this is not edited and probably incoherent

masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

classic cigarettes after sex (well- cigars in his case)

will light up and softly hold you close to him, mindlessly drawing shapes into your skin while you talk. loooves pillow talk

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on him, it’s his torso. he’s in pretty great shape and proud of himself, especially considering his age. (he’s only 37 in the reboot but i’m pretty sure he’s older in the OG- ehhhh either way i’m ignoring it)

for you, it’s your mouth/lips. they’re so pretty. he goes feral when you wear lipgloss/lipstick, especially if it leaves stains on things like a straw or glass

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

prefers to cum inside. not that he wants to be a father anytime soon, but he loves the thought of filling you up.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

still has most of- if not all- his old dirty magazines/pinups from when he was younger. he can’t let them go.

Gaz found them one time while they were inbetween missions, and Price let everybody think they were Soap’s. soap got clowned on but he got to keep (most of) his magazines

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

oh he def knows what he’s doing. he doesn’t have the most time for relationships but he’s got plenty of experience

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

classic missionary. he gets a good look at your body and face, it feels great for the both of you, and doesn’t strain either of your muscles. it lets him be close to you, too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

other than a little teasing i imagine him pretty serious. sex with him isn’t usually casual or goofy, its pretty passionate and he’d hate to kill the mood

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

trims but like occasionally so they’re on the longer side, along with his happy trail

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

so very. he’s usually very passionate and intimate, and on special occasions- very romantic. type of guy to pull out the rose petals and candles on your anniversary

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

doesn’t do it very often. he doesn’t really have a need for release, and enjoys sex with his partner more as a way to be close and vulnerable with them.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

i imagine him more on the soft dom side, thinks it’s so hot when you can’t really answer his questions, and likes embarrassing you a little too. maybe a little dacryphilia too. he feels so proud when you feel so good tears form in your eyes and you struggle to speak, all because of him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

prefers the bed, it’s comfortable and reliable, but also enjoys his office or a desk, especially on late nights. he doesn’t like having to rush and usually his office is private enough that he can take his time.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

domestic and soft shit. waking up next to you and seeing you vulnerable, without makeup on and hair all messy. trust is a big thing for him, it just gets him going.

also seeing you wear things he bought for you, like jewelry or maybe a nice dress. it’s another subtle sign of trust and ownership. he can be a little possessive and likes showing you off.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he’s much closer to the vanilla side. he’s willing to try some stuff, but certain extreme kinks he just won’t be able to do. it’ll feel too weird for him, like really heavy bdsm

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers giving. he just gives those vibes. enjoys receiving, too, but loves watching you come undone and your mind going blank from the pleasure.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

prefers to go slowly. as stated previously he loves intimacy and teasing you, will fuck you deeply and sensually

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not really a big fan. if you’re needy and desperate he’ll happily finger you real quick or while doing paperwork, he likes having this affect on you, but likes privacy and time when fucking you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

game to experiment with whatever kinks you might have, at least once. while he prefers to be more dominant, he’d still indulge you occasionally.

prefers not to take risks in public places, he could probably get in trouble for sleeping with you as your captain. not that the idea isn’t exciting- maybe in some foreign country where nobody knows you guys though, but not as a common thing.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

usually only 1-2 rounds but he takes a while to cum, and likes to make you cum at least a few times before he does. big on foreplay too.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

doesn’t really own any but he’s not against them. would quite enjoy using a remote controlled vibe during meetings/in the office

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

much prefers teasing to being teased. he likes teasing you lightheartedly and taking his sweet time with you. you’ll be whimpering and sobbing before he even puts his dick in you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not super loud in terms of groaning or moans but he’s never quiet. talks so insanely dirty he’s always whispering or cursing in your ear. when you whine or moan, too fucked out to even think, he’ll chuckle and tease you, “aw, i know baby, feels good, huh?”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

loves to spoil you. even if you tell him that something is too expensive or you don’t need it he loves to buy things for you. always paying attention to where your eyes longer on products and what style of clothes you compliment on others. love languages are def acts of service and gift giving. it also drives him crazy when you wear the stuff he buys you, an expensive watch or necklace when you go out just to show everyone that you’re taken care of.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

solid ~6-6.5 in, girthy, a pretty muted pink and it hangs heavy.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty standard, ideally you’d probably have sex a few times a week (3-5) but between your schedules and days you might have off it’s subject to change.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he could fall asleep pretty easily, after all he’s content and comfortable and likes to snuggle up with you but it’s not a given. likes to hold you if you fall asleep against him. in an ideal world he has the time to but usually there’s stuff that needs to get done.

[pinkbrries]

IZABELLA RELATIONSHIPS: 98 LINERS EDITION

izabella masterlist

hongjoong — hongbella ♡

[izabella suddenly appearing at hj’s studio at 3 a.m]: OKAY BUT LISTEN UP! do you think fishes can see the air since we can see water? / hj: … have you been sleeping your eight hours?

he was so excited to meet her when the staff told him that she joined the company

joong really admired iza since he knew how hard working she was, even going to crazy survival shows with older and way more experienced ppl than her, that would judge and talk shit abt her because she wanted to be an idol

but oof their meeting was kinda… awkward

and the beginnings of their relationship? yeah. let’s not talk abt that❤️

the way hj just kept calling izabella “sunbaenim” and she was like !! i haven’t debuted tf you’re talking abt lol

she even was like ? we’re the same age too !! you can just be casual with me (spoiler: it took him one good month to be completely casual w her)

the first friend she made on kq, even before she even got added into the ateez final line-up<3

izabella is always like !! hongjoong-ah and i have been friends for seven years now!! and hj is always like 🙄❤️ yes yes, everyone knows it, you always mention that

he finds it so cute tho

the fact that iza is the maknae of the 98’ line so he always tries to (subtly) take care of her

pls the adoring eyes hj not so subtly gives towards her way

he knows she’s strong and that she always tries to gulp down all of her feelings and pretend to be tough since she’s one of the oldest members

but hj always has /this/ way of making her open up to him, and they’re each other’s biggest confidents

same thing with izabella, she knows how hj is always trying to help everyone and even not taking care of himself because he sometimes forgets to do it, so she always nags at him and takes care of him

sending him messages like “joong, did u eat already?” “are you drinking water?” “did u catch some sleep?”

if he says no, you can see her appearing inside his studio like 🧍‍♀️with shopping bags from the seven eleven lol, and she even sits to eat w him because she has to make sure he’s really eating and not fooling her

iza🤝joong: besties that live inside their studios 24/7

but shoutout to hongbella because we have a lot of bangers thanks to them!!!

they’re each other’s #1 fan,,, but also,,, they’re each other’s #1 hater KXLAJZK

not like they hate each other at all (they sometimes say to each other ‘i hate you’ but jokingly lol) but they’re always at each other’s throats

izabella would always start the teasing and the play fighting, but lately? hj is the one that always goes and annoys her just to see how mad she can get JXKSKS

theyre sometimes really clingy w each otherrrr, even hj going pouty if izabella doesn’t pay attention to him lol

izabella is hj’s best costumer when it comes to reforming stuff

izabella has a new plain jacket? she suddenly appears at joong’s studio and just leaves it to him without saying a word (along w some food and an iced coffee); izabella bought a new airpod’s case? she leaves it in hongjoong’s bag with a note attached on it so he gets the hint; she has some new pair of converse? she goes and leaves them at his room, just beside his bed.

at first, he’d be like ??? but after the time passed, he just finds it so normal and endearing from her

for her 20th bday, he gave her a customized bag and she got so excited and touched that she cried, fr

they have the deepest conversations when they’re together on the studio, recording a demo or when they go out to spend some time together

all the members go to them when they need to talk stuff out bc who needs therapy when you have hongbella giving you advice and hearing your deep talk without judging you?

hongbella are always spreading awareness over social media and supporting social causes. we love woke besties<3

they’re always pretty chill, but everyone gets scared when they fight because it gets hardcore

they fight FIGHT, the only one that can stop them and make them make up is: seonghwa

they love each other a lot tho,,,,, not like they would voice it out at all

hj is literally one of the main pillars in her life. she doesn’t know what would be of her if she didn’t have him in her life

1/3 of the “best friends club” (aka matz ZKSKSK)

contact name on her phone: cooljoong🕶

seonghwa — hwabella / 2park ♡

[the 99 liners screaming and being chaotic] izabella: i have an idea to make them shut up / seonghwa: does it involve murder? / izabella: *sighing* … i suddenly forgot my idea

oh man,,,, the first time they saw each other it was by accident,,,, and this dude really developed a crush just because the eye contact they made for like 0.5 secs LMAOO

seonghwa knew about izabella because trainees would be like :00 famous underground rapper cherry got signed here recently!! and he was like,,, sounds like a lie

,,, well, it wasn’t a lie seonghwa

hj formally introduced each other after that, the boy lowkey excited to make his only 98 liners’ friends meet each other

hj only knew abt the crush after the introduction lol, and he would always tease tf out of hwa😞 #flyhighseonghwa KXLSKS

but after two months of interactions, he forgot abt his crush because he realized it was only that: a teenage crush

instead, he realized that he and izabella had amazing chemistry, and they really enjoyed spending time together

the second longest friendship she has in the group after hj (to which hj is always like 🙄 sure thing, but i’m the longest friendship she has so stay pressed JDLSK)

she loves loves seonghwa, fr. she would D word for seonghwa and she would fight anyone that dares to make him feel bad or say bad stuff about him

seonghwa is always on the calmer side, so he’s always like “iza, don’t” but she’s like 😠 but did you hear what they SAID?????!! hold my bag, i’ll punch them–

she’s the president of the #protectHwaclub 🫶 always there for him

but is that going to stop her from joining the teasing that her members put hwa through? no❤️

probably the member that keeps her at bay when she’s wilding. hongjoong might be her leader but seonghwa is the one that goes “izabella. 😐” at her and u see her go 🤐

hongjoong: why u never listen to me but u listen to seonghwa ??? / izabella: because he is park seonghwa / hongjoong: … and¿ / izabella: i don’t plan to discuss it

izabella loves hugging him and being around seonghwa

u know how hwa sometimes goes🙄🙄 whenever woo is behaving like this. WELL, his favoritism it’s definitely showing with iza

TALKING ABT THAT !!! she’s so spoiled by him?? if she’s like !! let’s go out eat!! he PAYS for it. if she sees smth that she likes!! he BUYS it for her. and if seonghwa sees something that reminds him of her?? bet he’s going to gift her that

oh to be izabella

the park besties<3 looking all expensive and model like but being all giggly and polite everywhere they go can’t u tell i love hwabella

also their fashion taste?? IMMACULATE🤌 they always look like they’re straight out of a kdrama?? and they sometimes match their fits

girl group enthusiasts!! know every single dance. kings of random play dance me thinks

probably the only member she had never screamed at or had a /big/ fight with. they always talk stuff in a very calm way??? they listen to the other’s point of view and make it work out

she’s always praising him for everything he does. she goes like THATS MY BEST FRIEND!!! even when he’s just there breathing deserved<3

iza: park seonghwa you’re the most handsome man ever! / wooyoung looking at the side like: 🧍‍♂️noona what about me / iza: this ain’t about u😐

taught her how to cook some recipes but he still cooks it for her

the extroverts of the matz club, meaning that they make other ‘98 liner friends and hj goes 😐😐 why didn’t i know about this???

she calls seonghwa “wife” SJZLSKZ HELLO??? but she has to share her wife with hj tho:/ you can’t have all the nice stuff izabella

theyre just a really wholesome duo😞 pls i want what they have

1/3 of the “best friends club” (aka matz)

contact name on her phone: seonghwife💘

[ambrossart]

My question is a bit far-fetched😅 but well I'll still say it, if Evelyn leaves Derry for whatever reason at this moment in the story, she moves with her family to another place or maybe she moves alone to live with a relative outside from Derry or something like that, let's suppose that Evelyn leaves Derry as a possibility (which now in this age and this stage of history I think is impossible, it's just a supposition) how would her surroundings react, especially Henry, I think he would be the one who It would affect him more and what about Patricio???? and Victor??

Somehow I got this idea in my head because Evelyn wants to move when she grows up and she has postcards in her room with places she wants to visit and she once said she wants to leave Derry.

Far-fetched or not, I absolutely love this question! I was gonna save this one for next week, but I need to answer it now; otherwise, it’s just gonna nag at me all weekend.

So let’s jump right in! (This is gonna be really scattered and unorganized because I’m just word-vomiting all my thoughts right now.)

The Bowers Gang Reacts to Evelyn Moving

tw; brief mentions of murder and suicide.

— Henry

Henry has massive abandonment issues, so congratulations, you’ve just unlocked his greatest fear.

Evelyn entered Henry’s life the day after his mom left, so he’s developed a very intense and almost childlike attachment to her.

He’s demanding and possessive, but most of all, he’s terrified of losing her, which is probably why he feels the need to test her as much as he does, but that’s a whole other discussion.

Anyway—

If Evelyn leaves, Henry’s not just losing a love interest—he’s losing his sole source of safety and comfort. He goes to her when he needs to escape all the shit he deals with at home. If she leaves, where’s he gonna go? What’s he gonna do? He’s gonna be stuck in a town that he hates, in a house that he hates, with nothing but bad memories and bad feelings. It’s a recipe for disaster.

When Evelyn tells Henry she’s leaving, his initial reaction will be utter disbelief.

Evelyn can't leave Derry. They're supposed to leave together.

Henry has been wanting to leave for years, but he's stayed in this shitty town for her.

How can she just leave without him?

And then that little voice will kick in. You know the voice. It’s his dad’s voice.

Of course she’s leaving, that voice will say. That’s what women do. They’re selfish whores who leave you.

Turns out, his dad was right yet again.

And that's when Henry’s rage will take over. He’ll lash out at Evelyn and say horrible, hateful things.

He'll probably break stuff. Stuff that holds a lot of sentimental value for Evelyn.

Will he get violent with her? Maybe. I’d like to think he wouldn’t, but in this case, there’s a fair chance he could.

Regardless, he’ll refuse to see her on her last day in Derry.

Evelyn will want to say goodbye (and she’ll feel so, so guilty and heartbroken over this whole situation), but Henry won’t let her.

Knowing Evelyn, she’ll probably write him a letter or something, and Henry will keep that letter for the rest of his life.

Even if he hates her, he'll keep it.

He’ll go to her house once it’s empty.

He'll lie down on the floor of Evelyn’s bedroom and stay there for hours.

He'll keep visiting the house until it sells and another family moves in.

And then he’ll inevitably self-destruct.

He’ll get a lot more aggressive and violent. He’ll probably start abusing alcohol or some other drug. And if he doesn’t end up in jail for killing someone (like his dad), he’ll probably end up eating a bullet at some point.

Are you guys sad yet? I’m sad.

— Patrick

With Patrick, I think it depends on where he and Evelyn are in their relationship.

If he’s already had his fun with her, he won’t even notice she’s gone. He’ll have already moved on to his next obsession.

Evelyn? Who’s Evelyn?

This is the best-case scenario. The alternative is… well honestly it’s kind of terrifying.

Evelyn and Patrick’s relationship is built upon this mutual fascination they have with each other. So if Evelyn leaves abruptly, before Patrick has fully sated his curiosity…

Well that just isn’t allowed.

See Patrick thinks he’s the center of the universe and that everyone else exists solely for his pleasure and entertainment.

He doesn’t recognize other people’s thoughts or feelings because in his mind they’re not supposed to have their own thoughts and feelings.

They’re no different than the flies he used to kill with his ruler.

Why would Evelyn think she can just… leave? Who gave her permission to do that?

So Patrick will be confused, like genuinely confused, probably the most confused he’s ever been in his life.

This doesn’t ever happen. This isn’t supposed to happen. Why is this happening?

(And why is it bothering him so much?)

He’ll probably start questioning his own reality, honestly.

When Evelyn breaks the news to Patrick, he’ll be calm… like eerily calm.

He’ll probably say something like, “Well that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

And there will be something in his tone that makes Evelyn very uncomfortable. It’ll make every hair on her body stand on end.

She’ll convince herself that she’s overreacting, of course, because in reality what’s Patrick gonna do? Kill her?

Famous last words.

On Evelyn’s last night in Derry, Patrick will sneak into her room for one last goodbye…

and Evelyn will finally meet the monster under the mask.

— Victor

I think Victor would handle this situation the best, honestly.

He’ll be sad, of course, but he’s mature enough now to know this isn’t the end of the world. People move all the time. It's a natural part of life.

And it's a good thing Evelyn's getting out of Derry. She deserves better than Derry.

He’ll probably help Evelyn pack up her things.

During this time, they’ll probably spend a lot of time reminiscing and going through all of Evelyn’s old keepsakes.

All those letters she wrote Vic? All those drawings? Yeah those are definitely coming out of storage. Victor’s mom will probably bring them over herself, and she’ll be a sobbing mess about the whole situation.

If Vic ever plans to confess, this will be the time he does it.

Maybe Evelyn will reciprocate his feelings.

Maybe she won’t.

Either way, they’ll stay in touch after Evelyn moves. Evelyn will make sure they do.

They’ll talk on the phone regularly, exchange letters, and Vic will probably send her a postcard or two (because Vic knows how happy that would make her).

Once Vic graduates high school, he’ll probably try to move closer to Evelyn, especially if she responded positively to his confession.

He’ll either try to get into the same university or one close by.

(And could you imagine if Jimmy also went to that school and the three of them had a little reunion?)

(Perfect ending! 😂)

Yeah, those two will be fine.

— Belch

I know you didn’t ask about Belch, but Evelyn leaving would seriously affect his life, too!

Evelyn helps Belch keep Henry from going off the deep end.

With her gone, Henry’s gonna start to unravel, and Belch isn’t gonna be able to hold him together on his own.

So Belch will have a choice to make: he either goes down in flames with Henry or he steps away and separates from him entirely.

For Belch’s sake, I sincerely hope he chooses the latter.

He deserves to be happy.

[katakosmos]

xenodora coworkers>>>>

she wants to be employed without her family’s help and the only place that will hire an inexperienced 18 year old research assistant who gets easily distracted is xenophilius’ lovegoods brand new newspaper with a terrible reputation

xeno is abt 10 years older than her (so 27-28) and hes initially extremely intimidated by her. shes extremely intense, simultaneously so distant from her job while being probably the most dedicated employee. I don’t think pandora thinks much of him at all at first?? Her family is pretty much in the gutter at this point and shes trying to distract herself from that by being like “i have a job and this is the most important thing in my life” and xeno is only a factor of that

the reason they get closer is how often they get stuck together during after hours. they see each other most nights and pandora starts letting herself actually talk to this guy. she thinks hes pretty much a complete quack but four months in and theyre both a little drunk on the office floor and xeno’s on his seventh conspiracy rant and she’s thinking “wow hes so ridiculous…but why is he kinda—” it doesn’t help that xeno is quite kind and on the exact same brain length as her. Pandora has literally never had a crush in her entire life so shes just standing there very stunted and fixing him with the most intense stares which in turn makes xeno go “😳” bc hes a virgin pushing 30 and doesn’t know how to properly talk to women he likes. They sort of just pace around each other for a long while before they’re finally drunk enough to hook up.

breaking my silence saying that age gap xenodora is not really my thing (simply because i like to think that they already knew each other before they started dating). buttt in this case i can accept it if i imagine that xenophilius and the twins were family friends. pandora barely remembers him because when she was 8 xeno left for college and they never saw each other again. then, she only heard gossip about him: he had a bad friend group, he was an addict who spent all his money on drugs, his life was ruined... until his father, taking advantage of the family name, forced him to work.

when she has to look for a job, she immediately goes to xenophilius, hoping that he'll remember her. he has changed a lot: his blond hair is all white, and he looks very fragile. often, even at work, he feels sick and has to go home. pandora is incredibly embarrassed at the idea of showing up there, completely poor, to ask for a job. but xenophilius knows that feeling very well; he hires her immediately.

they both heard stories about each other at that point, and they can't even look at each other, let alone talk. but when he's with her, xenophilius is so kind, even if shy and awkward, and ashamed.

it all happens very slowly, they find out that ignoring each other just makes everything much more weird and uncomfortable.

(they are a very functional couple, pandora needs a little sweetness and xenophilius needs someone strict to control his life and not make him fall back into drugs).

and anyway evan should just shut up, cause he's fucking a skeletal sewer rat with psychedelic blue eyes and some serious mental issues

LMAO

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Couldn't one of the recoms have volunteered as a foster family and somehow manipulated the system so that Spider would end up in their care? Imagine Ja/Fike becoming a foster parent and one day Quaricth shows up at the door for dinner lol

Oh my god I love this idea. Truthfully the thought never crossed my mind. They’d have to be really strategic about who they choose because just from my understanding of things it’s really uncommon for single men to be allowed to become foster parents so that would rule out Ja in my fic. Fike is married with two kids who are younger then Spider so he’d be a good choice on paper but the thing is he’s then implicating his wife if they get caught and putting a big risk on his family. And while Quaritch asks a lot of his team risking their families and potentially leading to them having their children taken away just like him is something he’d never even think to ask of them.

But if they could lower the risk by having someone on the inside who could mess with the files to say Spider was in a different home then “loss” all information about Fike once Spider is sent there then I could see this happening. Maybe the team even takes it upon themselves to do this and Quaritch doesn’t even know about it until he shows up for dinner. I imagine this all happened when Spider in around 10-12 so imagine middle school age Spider, it’s his first day in his new home. His new foster parents have been really nice- thought his foster father is a little too nice and seems why to excited to have him there. His foster siblings are around half his age but they’re both sweet and ask him a lot of questions. When it’s time for dinner Spider tucks himself into the table when there’s a knock on the door. Fike goes to open it. It seems they’d be having a guest for dinner. He hears the stranger’s voice, deep and gruff with a bit of a southern accent. It stirs something up in the back of his mind but he ignores it, too focused on the mashed potatoes in front of him.

Then the stranger stops short of fully entering the kitchen. “Miles,” he calls stunned

Spider looks at him equally surprised, “dad?” Before Spider can even process what’s happening Quaritch has him in a bear hug. He’s kissing his hair, mumbling, “my boy. My boy. My precious boy,” sounding on the verge of tears. Spider just freezes, not knowing what to do with himself.

Since Spider is younger he has a little less animosity towards Quaritch. He knows his dad was on the other side of the war but Norm still hasn’t found the right way to give Spider all the details and so he thinks Quaritch was kinda like Jake without the redemption arc. Just a grunt following orders. He has no clue that his father was actually the commanding officer. He also doesn’t exactly know why he’s not supposed to be around his dad. He knew his dad went to jail for a year but doesn’t know what for and he’s been told his dad is dangerous and that he should stay away from. But this guy? The guy hugging him like a life line who’s ready to cry from how overjoyed and relieved he is? Spider couldn’t imagine this guy being dangerous.

Spider is still stunned as Quaritch pulls away. His dad cups his face, looking at him with a soft smile. He just stares at him for a moment drinking in his son’s image, occasionally stroking his hair. Fike and his wife are smiling at the surprise reunion. Spider is the first to speak, “dad,” the word feels so strange on his tongue. Quaritch’s eyes light up when he’s called. “How are you here?”

Quaritch’s brow furrows slightly, “that I don’t know,” he looks up to his subordinate, “what did you do?” Spider looks up to his latest foster father and realizes immediately that he must be his father’s friend.

Fike explains everything ending with saying, “little Miles will have to stay here but you can come see him whenever you want. Hopefully now that you know he’s safe you can focus on other things. Like re-appealing your court case to get back custody.”

The whole conversation is pissing Spider off. They’re talking about him like he’s not even there. Like he’s an object to be won. “Hey! I’m right here! What about what I want! What if I don’t want to go with you!”

Quaritch is shocked, “I’m your dad. Why wouldn’t y’a want to come home with me?”

“I don’t even know you! I barely even remember you!”

Spider can see the devastation on his father’s face and it makes him feel a little bad. Quaritch recovers then sadly pats Spider’s cheek. “That’s fair. And I’m sure this is a lot for you. So how about you think about what y’a want. I’d appreciate it if you consider givin’ me a chance. Because I want to know you. A day hasn’t gone by where I didn’t miss y’a like crazy and wished for us to be a family again. But I get it. I haven’t been a part of your life and because of that your life has been mighty hard. So whatever you want to do…” Quaritch then goes to leave but before walking out he says, “I love you son.”

Quaritch decides to immediately get the ball rolling on regaining custody now that he knows his son is in good hands. He gets a better lawyer the next morning who puts a case together by noon. By the end of day they’ve got a date to petition the court. Their argument is that since Quaritch’s court order therapist Max Patel is a friend of his arch enemy Jake Sully then all of Dr.Patel’s conclusions on Quaritch should be thrown out and he should be granted a new unbiased therapist to judge whether he’s mentally fit to be a parent.

Spider thinks about all of this for days eventually deciding to give his dad a chance. Quaritch shows up as soon as Fike tells him Spider’s decision. It’s awkward at first. Spider doesn’t know what to say but then decides, screw it, and blatantly asks, “why are you dangerous?”

Quaritch just laughs, “that’s what they told y’a? I ended up in jail for attackin’ your mama’s killer.”

That changes Spider’s whole perspective. His dad was avenging his mom’s murder. How could that be bad?

So they talk. Quaritch gives Spider a sugar coated version of events to win his son over. Spider doesn’t immediately warm up to his dad. It takes weeks of Quaritch coming by every day for Spider to slowly start to let his defensives down. His dad is alway just so excited to see him. He takes interest in everything Spider does. He patiently helps him with his homework and is really encouraging when the problems make Spider feel like he’s stupid. It makes him think that maybe living with his dad would be pretty nice.

It takes nearly a year of court hearings and therapy sessions and mental assessments and then more court hearings but eventually Quaritch gets his parental rights reinstated. Spider is thrilled with the news but doesn’t immediately get to go home. First they have supervised visitations (they’re both laughing there asses off over this) when those go well they move up to unsupervised visitation, then a weekend stay and then finally they have one last court hearing where 11-13 year old Spider is asked if he wants to live with his father. “Yes,” he says with a smile and zero hesitation. The judge gives Quaritch full custody. Father and son hug each other tight all of team Deja Blue there to celebrate.

Cut to the start of the new school year. Spider and his dad had had a truly epic summer. Dad had taken him on a two week trip to Disney world right after their court case. All summer long they went on camping trips, had beach days, went to the zoo, and museums and loads of other local attractions. They went to the movies almost every week. And dad loved to watch Spider at the skate park. Spider had never imagined his life could be so good. He confidently strides into his new school- an expensive secular private school. There he meets Kiri, Lo’ak and Neteyam who quickly become his best friends. Of course over the semester the truth of all the terrible things his father has done comes out and Spider is devastated. Loads of family drama ensues all culminating on Quaritch going on a redemption arc for his son’s sake.

Anyway I got really carried away with this lol. I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for the question 💞

[presidenthades]

Once again, I am doing a series of my behind-the-scenes thoughts for The Golds while I do light edits for formatting, typos, and continuity. Here’s Chapter 9!

For this chapter’s title, I went with the final stanza of “The Song of the Seven” when the lyrics talk about all the gods, because the chapter ends with Jace and Aegon arriving for the anointment ceremony.

I kinda feel sorry for Jace and Aegon discovering the true hardships of parenthood (night feedings! Sleep deficit!), but they also have a castle full of servants to do all the chores. Raising a baby is hard, but at least they don’t have to worry about laundry or cooking. Can’t blame Jace for delegating diaper changes, though.

I have no idea how long a dragon’s gestation period is supposed to be. No reason it can’t be comparable to a human’s? They’re fictional anyway 😛. But I wanted Vermax’s gestation to align with Jace’s pregnancy to highlight that dragon/rider bond, since the show has cuts of Syrax reacting during Rhaenyra’s labor in Episode 10.

There’s a fandom theory that dragons seem to thrive more roaming freely on Dragonstone than chained in the Dragonpit. But one disadvantage of the Dragonmont is the Cannibal, who I imagine is quick to hint down new eggs and hatchlings. So when a claimed dragon is expected to lay eggs, I think the Dragonkeepers are very alert about when it happens. It might be harder to keep tabs on unclaimed dragons like Silverwing, who probably do their own thing without a rider to keep tabs on them. But otherwise the Dragonkeepers are trying their best to save the eggs from getting eaten.

There’s also probably a narrow window after Vermax lays eggs when she goes away to hunt or something, and that’s when humans are able to get the eggs. Otherwise Vermax might not be so happy about them taking her eggs, and Jace is in no shape to go up the mountain and tell her to calm down.

There’s some debate whether Sunfyre was a cradle egg or a dragon that Aegon claimed as a kid. The strong bond makes me want to say cradle egg, but Sunfyre seems a lot larger than most dragons his age if so, and there are lines in F&B which indicate that Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond might not have even received cradle eggs. There might not have been eggs available when the genre born, or maybe Viserys chose not to give them eggs because he was showing favor to Rhaenyra’s line. Daeron is the youngest so he’s a special case because of the timing; there might have been more eggs when he was born, or, in the book (where Daeron and Jacaerys are of similar ages), Viserys may have felt obligated to offer an egg to Daeron since he gave eggs to Rhaenyra’s kids.

I’m leaning toward Aegon claiming Sunfyre (who could have been a young dragon in the Dragonpit). In that case, it’s extra important to Aegon that he gets an egg for his son, especially if you go with the headcanon that Viserys deliberately didn’t give Aegon an egg. By personally choosing an egg and placing it in the cradle, this is another way Aegon can demonstrate his love and approval to his own son, which Viserys didn’t show to Aegon.

In the last chapter’s commentary, I mentioned that I made Aegon minimally affected by the glass candle since he’s not inclined toward magic. But Joff is very interested in magic and has actually used the candle, so it has a much greater effect on her. Kinda like how the One Ring in LOTR affects different people differently.

I think we can all agree that generally, it’s an asshole move to a) purposely create sudden loud noises around a newborn and b) shove a woman who just gave birth. Joff is not entirely herself and she shows remorse, so she gets some sympathy. At the same time, I think it’s clear why Aegon is so angry. From his perspective, Jace is bleeding on the floor and screaming for Joff to stop whatever she’s doing, and he catches Joff with her hands literally in the cradle. He believes he came just in time to stop something terrible from happening, and who knows what would’ve happened if Joff hadn’t snapped out of it? So Aegon is not going to immediately forgive Joff for hurting Jace/almost hurting the baby. And if it were anyone else (not Jace’s sister, not the person who just saved Jace and Cheeseball), he probably wouldn’t have forgiven them at all.

As for Jace, despite her own fear and pain, her first instinct is to try to protect Joff by lying for her, because that’s her sister and Aegon is pretty pissed. As usual, Jace sets her own needs and comfort aside in favor of her loved ones. But now Jace has a helpless baby to think about. She might still put her sisters above herself, but Cheeseball comes before her sisters now.

I allude to the glass candle in the Handbook, first when Daeron blabs about getting Joff something from Oldtown in Chapter 7, then in the final scene of the fic when Daemon catches the two of them examining the candle. The Citadel doesn’t officially acknowledge the existence of the candles (although it seems to be an open secret in Oldtown), so Daeron must’ve been very sneaky and creative to be able to “borrow” it.

“Joff won’t like it” is one of Daeron’s mantras when he decides what to do or not to do. He’s probably going to have to grow out of this eventually 😅.

“Joff is going to have to do a lot of things she doesn’t like. That’s life.” Aegon learned this life lesson a while ago, but he truly absorbs and embodies it in Chapter 10 when he steps into the game.

Vermax laid three eggs. The mysterious wet nurse said Aegon and his wife would have three children 🧐.

Jace dresses Cheeseball in Targaryen red knits for his first day of being paraded around the family!

Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena are basically the fairy godmothers from Sleeping Beauty. They’re even color-coded the same!

It’s revealed in Chapter 10 that Helaena has no interest in pregnancy/childbirth, but that doesn’t mean she’s opposed to children entirely. She just doesn’t want to carry them. Hence her and Rhaena’s little chat about Garmund, who would hypothetically be the medieval equivalent of a sperm donor while Rhaena and Helaena raise any kids. It’s also why they picked Daemion Velaryon as Helaena’s potential husband in the Handbook; Daemion is implied to be gay and he has no holdings to bequeath, so his wife doesn’t need to have kids, compared to, say, Kermit Tully.

It’s OK Baela, your gift to Cheeseball was your midwifery skills.

Aegon hovers a lot over Cheeseball right now because the birth was a very fraught experience, and the Joff incident didn’t help his nerves. Also he’s just in the “newborn dad” phase. When Cheeseball gets older and is a bit less fragile, I think Aegon will let Cheeseball run around and get in age-appropriate trouble.

Cheeseball is literally one day old but I couldn’t resist infusing some personality into him. He enjoys feminine attention, likes boobs, and instinctively thinks Aemond is kinda weird. Definitely Aegon’s son 😂.

Luce was about to say her kids are gonna be named after historical figures, because Aemond’s a history nerd 😢.

Aemond is trying to be cool and pretend he isn’t super interested in the baby, but this man spent a small fortune on that Valyrian steel dagger 😭.

“Aemma” is the magic word when it comes to Viserys. Although he shipped Luce and Aemond at the end of the Handbook, he’s putting on his king hat and doing what he thinks is necessary (but also Elenda invoked Aemma). Viserys wants to be a peacemaker (although he fails miserably in canon), and he wants people to like him (can't remember which episode, but he asks Lyonel or Otto if they think he'll be remembered as a good king). Breaking up Luce and Aemond is a price he's willing to pay. He doesn't care about Aemond's feelings, and while he does care about Luce's feelings, he doesn't think a young girl's romantic affections are worth destabilizing the Crown. And since there isn't any official arrangement between her and Aemond, Viserys thinks there isn't much shame for her in being jilted, since there's no betrothal to be jilted.

Borros Baratheon is gunning hard for power and a royal marriage. In F&B, he seizes every opportunity to advantageously betroth his daughters, and he tells his wife to name their unborn son Aegon after Aegon II. The Baratheons also claim Targ blood through Orys, a more recent infusion of Valyrian blood through Queen Alyssa, and kinship to Rhaenys (and Jace and her sisters by extension). If any great lord thinks he "deserves" a royal marriage, it has to be this guy.

In F&B, Elenda seems like a cunning woman who balances the desires of her daughters with the welfare of House Baratheon as a whole (considering how she dealt with Cassandra's marriage in the book). She is grieving for Floris, but she has three other living daughters to think about, and she's too smart/ambitious to let this opportunity slip by despite her grief.

Aegon has a very cynical view of Viserys, but honestly he's pretty close to the truth IMO. I always side-eye the show writers/actors when they say Viserys is a good person just trying his best because…uh…I don't think so 😅. There are already tons of blogs and opinions out there explaining why Viserys is kinda terrible so I won't parrot them. But ultimately, it seems Viserys is driven primarily by the prophecy (his desperation for a son, then him believing the PTWP will come from Rhaenyra's line) and by guilt about Aemma. So that taints my opinion of his love and affection for Rhaenyra, and her children in turn. Rhaenyra's kids are more important than Alicent's kids, but they aren't the most important thing either.

Aegon is also kinda right about hiding the info from Jace during the pregnancy. She probably would have stressed herself even more if she knew the truth, and that wouldn't be good for her health or the baby's. So the temporary information diet was probably the best call Aegon could have made in that situation.

When Rhaenyra arrives, she's frowning at Aegon who's freaking out in the corridor. He stays there like that until Alicent makes him get lunch for Jace.

Joff feels very guilty about last night, so she decides to remove herself from the situation out of fear of a repeat.

Even though Rhaenyra generally has a good relationship with her daughters, no mother-daughter relationship is perfect. Jace and Rhaenyra have pretty different personalities, and arguably different values, but Jace is a people-pleaser and Rhaenyra is on the chill side for a Westerosi mom, so they get along most of the time. But when they clash, they really clash (like that argument in Chapter 6 of the Handbook that Daemon slept through, about Jace's elopement to Aegon).

Jace thinking that she would throw herself off a tower if she'd been presented with her baby torn up is a reference to Helaena and Maelor

I honestly don't think Rhaenyra has really forgiven Viserys for Aemma's death. She just moved on, because what other choice was there? He's her father and the king.

Rhaenyra really didn't like Aegon growing up (for reasons already included in past commentaries), but she was more neutral about Aemond. There isn't the same baggage about Aegon claiming everyone's attention/replacing her, and Aemond was much better behaved. And I think Luce was spoiled more while Jace was the responsible one making sacrifices and doing her duty, so there is different treatment in that regard.

I was going to elaborate more in earlier drafts before I rewrote some subplots, but Alicent had perinatal depression during her pregnancy with Daeron. It got bad enough that even Viserys noticed, and after the maesters advised a respite from court might help, he decided this meant sending Alicent to Oldtown for the rest of the pregnancy—without her three older children 🙃. That’s why Alicent was away in Oldtown, and that’s why she can empathize with Jace’s current mess of emotions. If I ever write that Alicent & Rhaenyra POV fic of the kids’ childhood, this subplot is definitely going in there.

Rhaenyra ultimately resigned herself to Jace/Aegon for the sake of her child’s happiness, and Alicent did the same re: Luce/Aemond. Parallels!

“All your children will be precious to you, but it is your firstborn who changes you the most.” Of course Alicent is thinking about Aegon when she says that. She might not always like him very much, but that doesn’t make it any less true, and she loves him anyway. She just isn’t great at showing it, and she has hurt him physically and emotionally, and that’s left its mark on Aegon.

Just like in Chapter 5, Jace and Aegon reconcile quickly because they don’t like being at odds with each other. Again, Jace is a people-pleaser, and Aegon is a Jace-pleaser, which helps a lot when they need to be honest with each other about their mistakes.

Aegon’s joke about commissioning a giant gold statue for Joff is a reference to Aegon in F&B wanting to commission giant gold statues for his brothers.

Aemond 100% cares what other people think about him. He supposedly wears the eyepatch so his sapphire eye doesn’t scare ladies at court (even though it’s gorgeous??), and he gets triggered by Maris’s purported taunt about his balls in F&B. He has a lot of internal motivation to excel, but I think he wants external validation that he’s good enough (see: his whole “‘tis I who studies” speech). So even though he’s impulsive enough to suggest eloping (the Storm’s End chase was one big impulse in the show, the roast pig triggers him into making the Strong boys toast), he would care a lot about the gossip and his reputation afterward. And TBH Aemond is not a very emotionally stable guy, so I can totally see him lashing out against an easy target who doesn’t deserve it—like Luce. But hey, that’s what a character growth arc is for!

The Faith is supposed to be based on Catholicism, so I figured they have an in-world equivalent of a baptism. The religious lore is different so instead of water, they use oils; we see Aegon being anointed by oils during his coronation in Episode 9. And seven is THE lucky number in the Faith/Westeros, so babies are usually anointed at seven weeks old.

Typical Viserys forgot that Jace might have some trauma related to the Grand Sept 🙃.

At this rate the Dragonpit is going to become a symbol of Jace and Aegon’s marriage. And it’s a nice blend of Targaryen power as well as a nod of respect to the Faith. Jace is very conscious of the importance of the Faith’s support and the need to assimilate into Westerosi culture while retaining icons of Targaryen superiority.

“You’re thinking like a statesman.” Jace is right though, Aegon could be good at it if he tried…

Cheeseball was born on the small side since he came early (and stress during pregnancy can lead to smaller babies too), but he is definitely a chonker now.

A commenter once suggested that Aegon might have a lactation kink and now I can’t get it out of my head

Deep down Jace knows that Baela had feelings for her, but Jace tries not to think about it/pretends she doesn’t know. Jace prefers her sisterly relationship with Baela, and acknowledging non-platonic feelings would affect that. Also, Baela has more or less moved on (most likely?), so Jace thinks there’s no point acknowledging it anyway.

Is Aegon being extra when he uses dracarys on a dirty diaper? Probably yeah, but what else is he going to do with it?

I like to think the Garden girls are part of the crowd waving gold flags when they fly back to KL.

Aegon says he hates playing politics, but he puts on a show without thinking about it. He even gives the crowd a Lion King moment when he holds up the baby.

Chapter 10 commentary here

[blizzardsuplex]

So, I actually made a RS/AC relationship meta post...thanks @christiancagesupporter for the sign that was a live sex celebration joke, and also @scissormedaddyass for not telling me to stop.

So, imagine a relationship that goes something like this: there’re two guys who’ve known each other pretty well a long time. They’re into some similar things, like music and craft beer and their mutual profession, which paved the way for their initial bond despite some initially obvious differences between them (like age and experience in said mutual profession). They have quite a few differences in personality, too—the starkest one being, probably, that one of them prefers to go with the flow, taking opportunities when they come; the other has been on that grindset since day one.

Still, they’re pretty close. When Roddy (the generally more passive one) moves on in his career, the other hugs and kisses him in public. When Adam, the generally more active one, moves on in his career and gets himself into trouble, the other comes out of nowhere to save him. They’ve had their disagreements (explosive ones), but overall things are good—kind of blue oni and red oni, as TV Tropes might say.

Then Adam gets another chance to pull himself up the ladder—not only further, but to the very top of the profession they both hold dear. He wants this (to be the best, and to be adored for it) more than anything, and will do anything to get there. This includes concocting a plan so elaborate it’s almost comedic: get close to the person on the current rung (Max), find out his weaknesses, and destroy him before any official confrontation. When several wrenches are thrown into his plans, he quickly pivots to not only play kingmaker (to someone who now owes him and is someone he's won against before) but get petty revenge on the man now-deposed, who he blames for plans going awry.

Now, as we all know, Adam is a manipulative asshole. He has backstabbed people close to him more than once and will probably backstab many more. In fact, he’s backstabbed or has planned to backstab Roddy himself at least twice. But Roddy is actually a significant part of Adam’s current plan. Adam’s mark, you see, is distrustful and wary about any attempts to get close to him. An attempt at a straight shot through to the heart would probably fail. Could Roddy (and some others) be a smokescreen, causing a distraction while the other pieces fall into place?

And, you know what? Without a second thought, Roddy does it. In fact, Roddy does it with such aplomb people around them genuinely wonder if he’s gone insane—and then outright believe it, after he continues to do it for months. He has a public tantrum in his hometown. He pretends to be delusional enough to outright attempt to kidnap Adam for weeks. Adam, again in public, verbally tears him down and disavows any bond they previously had (in favor of his new “friend”, of course).

But why does Roddy agree to go through these lengths? The simple answer is probably “emotional manipulation”, and you wouldn’t even be wrong about that…to a point. What makes Adam Cole such an effective manipulator is that he makes his feelings seem so real, and he does that by committing to actually feeling them. As Drea @shes-a-voodoo-child has pointed out recently, any love and affection he feels towards those he’s close to is actually kind of genuine—as long as those he loves know their place, which is to say he’s the one on top and running the show (as she said: just ask Kyle O’Reilly). In that case, then, yes: there’s at least some manipulation going on.

Roddy knows this though, doesn’t he? Why, then, does he seem to keep falling for it? Is he forgetful, stupid, or a total simp? I think part of it is his personality; besides being more laidback when it comes to grand-scale ambition, which Adam has in spades, thanks to Personal Issues™ he also craves the love and attention Adam liberally provides (again, as long as the status quo remains how the latter likes it).

But the interesting thing is that this love isn’t just portioned and given to him like treats for a dog, something to ensure loyalty: Roddy decided to be loyal first, and as such actively works for it. It’s more a salary than anything else—which is to say that when he chose to receive it he also knew exactly what kind of person he was going to work for, just like he actively chose to play the fool for months on end. After 10+ years of knowing the guy, he’s not blind to or delusional about Adam’s nature or demands. Definitely I don’t think he wants to “fix him”. He’s just someone whose math of the costs and benefits of being close to and associating with Adam Cole has come out with him gaining more than he’s losing. He’s made his choice, and in that way he’s kind of using Adam, too.

Also, to be honest? People (myself included) focus a bit more on why Roddy continues to stick by Adam; not a lot of people think about why Adam continues to keep Roddy around beyond a general "he's useful for now". Recognition in a relationship is a two-way street, and so (besides genuinely sharing interests and such) Adam definitely has figured out, and probably even likes, the truth: that Roddy can be as big of a prick as him. It’s not in the same way; Roddy’s brand of dickishness is more out in the open, but because of that they complement each other well. Heel synergy, you might say.

In fact, they just complement each other in general: being gifted at talking versus being gifted in-ring, a leader versus a follower, being evasive versus being direct. That they just “click” in these way probably contributes to the sense they just have fun doing things together—even if that “thing” is “heartlessly destroying Max’s world in front of everyone he knows and those watching at home”. And, of course, they don’t really challenge each other, which does wonders for their egos (both sort of fragile/easily set off in different ways).

Basically: there still a power imbalance/lack of equality in their relationship? Yeah—but the power is more or less being willingly given, and not as one-sidedly as it may initially appear. Do they enable each other’s worst habits/tendencies? Yeah—but in part it’s because they’re so used to and accepting of each other, flaws and all, which can be kind of wholesome depending on how you look at it. Are they toxic bfs as heels? Hell yeah (no buts).

Tl;dr: Roderick Strong and Adam Cole are mutually evil bros. They both know what they’ve gotten themselves into and exactly what kind of person they’ve chosen (for now) to stick with—and they more or less like and/or accept who they’re sticking with. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk that will probably be refuted when we see them interact or something moving forward