#I fucking love these two and have issues.

[mywritersmind]

TOUCH ME - LN4

summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.

listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!

word count : 747

⋆｡‧˚⋆

It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.

Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.

She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.

Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.

“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.

“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.

“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.

He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.

“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.

He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”

This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”

“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”

Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”

Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,

1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.

2. Lie.

Two seems safer.

“Of course not.” she shakes her head.

Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.

Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.

“I’ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.

After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.

She jumped up and hugged him.

“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.

“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.

“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”

“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.

She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”

“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.

She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.

She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.

“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”

He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”

She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.

He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”

[ohtobeleah]

I think one of the main reasons why the Worst!Logan loves you so much, without putting too much thought into the question, is simply because you ease the burden of being alive. You don’t ‘give him a reason to live.’ He found that on his own when Wade showed up and snatched his old, drunken ass out of his world and planted him here. But you ease the burden. You ease the pain of being alive on days when everything seems so…distressing. But when you plant something, it often grows roots. And that’s exactly what Logan wanted to do with you. 

“Hope, at its very core, can be the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torment of man,” That one. That was the ‘Hook, Line and Sinker’ moment where Logan knew you had him wrapped around your finger like some perverted puppy. “You aren’t just any man, Logan,” He could vividly picture you sitting on his lap while his back pressed heavily into your headboard. “You’re Wade’s boyfriend.” 

“Oh aren’t you just hilarious,” Logan could remember replying to you as you leaned in to place a gentle kiss against his lips. He loved those moments. The quiet ones. Where nothing else in the world mattered except for the time he got to spend in your undivided attention. “Keep that attitude up, I dare you.” 

“You don’t have to threaten me with a good time.” It was the dynamic the two of you had. The banter-filled friendship that crossed the line into friends with immaculate benefits. And under the glow of your bedside lamps, the ones that sent an orange hume across the floor-length curtains and cottage cream walls, Logan knew that the small amount of time you had been in his life…had been the time most lived. 

“You surround yourself day in and day out with a degenerate crew of antagonists, Logan, of fucking course you’re gonna pick up a few traits after a while!” It wasn’t uncommon to see Logan perched up at the bar while you made coffees for the steady trickle of customers who stopped by for their caffeine fix. After all, it was your cafe. “It doesn’t sound like my issue that you called Althea, Blind Al.” 

“It’s not her fucking name, is it?” Logan’s heated. He kinda hates himself a little for it. Mainly because he recognised straight away who he sounded like. Wade fucking Wilson. Secondly, he had enough respect for the old, aging and decaying to know nicknames like that could put senior citizens into early graves. Well, earlier. “You know what, that’s it, I’m not fucking hanging around that guy anymore.” 

Deep down, Logan knew he didn’t mean it. Wade was a genuinely good person. He saw a lot of parallels of himself in the guy. And if it weren’t for Wade… Logan wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Bickering back and forth with the love of his overextended life. You just made him feel like a guy. Just some dumb guy. Simple. Whenever Logan was with you, he wasn’t The Wolverine. He was just James Howlett. 

“Okay one,” You stopped steaming the milk you had in just been working with so you could reply. You turned with a shit-talking snarl ready to go. “You sound like someone who’s beefing with their childhood bestie,” The frown on Logan’s face warned you not to continue, but you weren’t in the mood to pity someone over four times your age. “Two, you fucking live with the guy man?” You pointed out the incredibly obvious logistics of Logan’s dilemma. “What? you gonna sleep on the street?” It was a genuine question you had. “Please, you’re made of metal dumbass, you’ll catch some sort of genetically fucked mutation of pneumonia and die at the young age of two hundred and twenty-something.” 

“You know exactly who you sound like right now?” Logan countered as he sipped his coffee. The same coffee order you made him every damn day. Black, no cream, sugar or milk. No flavoured syrup or sweeteners in sight. Just black. 

“If you point out the fact I sound like my longest-standing friend, I’ll take great pleasure in knowing you can’t die alone, because you can’t seem to die at all!!” 

“Go fuck yourself!” Logan needed this. He needed you to match his energy. You saw him coming from a mile away when he’d come barrelling into the cafe with a glare of despair and in need of some reprieve. 

“Fuck me yourself, asshole.” It wasn’t exactly what Logan had been expecting you to say, but he did take you up on that offer…The second he knew you were off work and at home later that same evening. 

“Logan–” Your needy little whines were a symphony of desire and love. “Logan–yes, baby you feel so good.” The way Logan made you feel, the way he touched you in all the right ways, made you feel drunk on his ecstasy. 

“Ohhhh just like that huh?” Logan wouldn’t dare change a single thing about what he was doing right now. He had you right where he wanted you. He loved you in his position. The one where he had your arms pinned behind your beck. The one where your chest presses right against his. The one where all he has to do is buck his hips up into yours while his heels dig into your mattress. It’s the one where he can whisper the most degrading things into your ear and knows you’re drooling for it. He knows that much because he can feel it dripping down his other shoulder while you mumble incoherent love songs. 

“I could smell you, you know,” Logan growls particularly low as he keeps his pace going. “When you were giving me that fucking attitude in the cafe today,” You know he’s talking, but the way his perfectly enhanced cock is kissing the tip of your cervix with every thrust it keeping your mind from focusing on anything else but chasing that all important high of yours. “Got nothing to say now, have you?” 

“I–” You tried to tell Logan what you want, you know he already knows when the words won’t come out and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling. “Wanna–” 

“Oh please,” Logan nearly begs while he keeps thrusting up into you. He can feel the mixture of his previous load and your arousal mixing at the base of his shaft. “Give me something pretty to look at gorgeous.” 

Logan thought you were the most gorgeous woman to ever grace his life. Inside and out you were truly one of the most kind-hearted, lovely, compassionate people he’d ever known. But right now, in this very moment, all Logan wanted to do was see your gorgeous face when you came around his slicked-up shaft. All he wanted to feel was you clenched him like a vice grip made just for him. 

“Fuckk–Logan!” At your cries, Logan was quick to grab your face with one of his hands. He wanted to look you in the eyes. Wanted to feel every part of your soul connect with his when you came for him. 

“I’m right here,” He cooed, still bucking into you with force and pace. “I’ve got you, come on me, baby.” 

“Ohhhhh–” The way you dragged your nails down his sides made Logan hiss with pure sexual gratification. Your velvet walls paused around his shaft as he kept up the pace, fucking deeper into you. As deep as he could get just to feel you. “Yessss–” 

“I’m the luckiest guy alive,” Logan rolled his eyes with pure unadulterated lust as you came down from your high. He lets go of your face only to crash his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. “Fucking perfect for me.” He gives you a minute to recover. Logan slowly rocks his hips so that he’s never completely still, always admiring your beauty while yours naked on top of him the way you are. 

“Okay big guy,” You sigh, sitting up to straddle Logan. “Your turn.” 

“Gready thing, one not enough for you?” Logan could still feel how full you were from his last load. He couldn’t contain himself, you just had that effect on him. 

“Well, since you’re either sleeping here or on the street tonight, I figured you didn’t have any plans,” You teased as you rocked your hips the way you knew drove Logan wild. His fingers dug into your hips and for a second he released some pressure. Worried that he might leave a few bruises. Or worse…But when you placed your hands on top of his? Logan knew you were alright. “Gonna finish what you started? Or do you need a second to catch your breath?” 

“Oh I’m gonna ruin you–” Logan smiled as he jumped into action. Capturing your lips with his as he flipped the two of you around. Suddenly you found yourself on your back, pressed into the mattress. “You know how I feel about you, right?” It was a gentle moment laced between the lust and the desire. But when Logan caught your eye, so beautiful and kind, he wanted to make sure that you knew this wasn’t just sex to him. 

This was…You were… Everything he ever wanted. 

“I know,” You nodded, making sure to pull him closer. As close as you could get in missionary. “I’ve got you,” Was all you said back before your lips were taken hostage yet again. “I–” You were about to say it but stopped yourself. The L would be just something that wasn’t said that much. 

You knew it was because Logan was afraid to. He was scared if he said he loved you then he’d wake up from this dream. Back in the pub, he wasn’t welcome in. Back in his reality, where the version of you didn’t know him as the best worst version of himself. 

“You mean everything to me.” You settled with as Logan buried himself inside you. Not knowing that in nine months from now, your greatest love of all would carry your love for Logan in her name: 

Ilya: I.Love. You. Always

Ilya

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: TW this post contains a homophobic slur.

Transcript under the cut

Professor Munch: Everyone, this is Nancy. She’s one of my favorite students. I am so glad she can join us this evening to observe our weekly GSA meeting.

Nancy: And what is a GSA?

Morgan: It stands for Gay–Straight Alliance. It’s just a safe space for queer kids to hang out and talk about real world issues.

Knox: Yeah, we go out and do stuff off campus. It’s pretty tight.

Nancy: Queer? So...this is a club for homosexuals?

Darling: [sucks teeth]

Knox: [chuckles nervously] I mean, sure I guess? Me and Morgan are bisexual. That means we dig the fellas and the ladies, heh.

Professor Munch: What’s important is that this space is for everyone, from all walks of life. We support each other here, no matter who you love. We keep each other safe. That’s why I invited you to sit in on our session. I figured you could use a friend or two-

Nancy: Ugh! Oh my God? You think I’m- I’m not like that, ok!?

Nancy: I am not a homosexual! What the hell made you think I’d want to be apart of something like this?

Professor Munch: No, dear- I’m not implying you’re like anything! This club welcomes all people. I thought you could use the support. Why, your brother started the very first GSA at this school-

Nancy: Oh, don’t you fucking dare! My brother wasn’t some depraved pervert and I’m not a d****!

Darling: [jumps up, chair scrapes hardwood floor] What the fuck did you just say? You can’t come up in calling people that shit!

Nancy: I-I didn’t! All I’m saying is that I’m not like that! I’m not like you-

Darling: Not like who? Not like a d?****?

Darling: What the fuck is your problem? Munch, who is this bitch?

Professor Munch: Easy, Dee. Calm down-

Darling: Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You let some straight white girl walk in here and say something we heard screamed at us our whole fucking life! Say it again! I dare you!

Professor Munch: That’s enough! Please! Let me handle this.

Nancy: [between sobs] M’sorry...m’so sorry...

Professor Munch: [sighs] Just, take some time to think about this, Nancy. Look inward.

Nancy Narrates: [Look inward] x3

Nancy: If it’s ok...I’d like to apologize.

Professor Munch: Everyone? Is it alright if Nancy speaks?

Morgan: I don’t mind.

Darling: [sighs] Whatever man.

Nancy: [exhales] When I first heard that word, I was 11 years old. My mother found letters I wrote to my pen pal. She mailed a photo of herself from her birthday party, she wore this really pretty yellow dress with little blue flowers on them.

Nancy: Yellow is my favorite color, so I said she was as pretty as a sunflower. My mother tore up the letter and made me rewrite it. She looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘do you want someone to read this and think you’re a-’

Nancy: She said it again when was 14, a girl from my ballet troupe was only brushing my hair. She pulled me from the class. She said it again two years ago, when she found out that I fell in love with-

Nancy: I know that word hurts because it’s been said to hurt me even though I’m not... It doesn’t matter if I’m not, I shouldn’t have said it. It was a horrible thing to do. I am so incredibly sorry.

Professor Munch: Thank you for sharing your story. This is what GSA is about. Coming together, creating a community, and creating safe spaces. Dee, is there anything you want to say to Nancy? Anything you’d like to speak on or about how you feel?

Darling: Nah...

Nancy Narrates: [I knew that an apology alone wouldn't suffice to mend the situation. When it came to friendships, I didn’t know how to genuinely make amends, but as a Landgraab, I knew that I could leverage my wealth and status to create a meaningful impact]

Morgan: You got us the biggest hall on campus?! Nancy, this is sick as fuck!

Professor Munch: [laughs] I’ll have to agree with Morgan for lack of a better word. This is sick as heck! I don’t know where to begin to thank you for this gift.

Nancy: It’s the least I could do. Now you can stop meeting in that tiny corner in the commons.

Darling: Charity work for your little sorority, huh? What’s with you, yo?

Nancy: What do you mean?

Darling: You’re so rich, you just buy your way through shit?

Nancy: It’s how I was raised.

Darling: I can’t figure you out.

Nancy: I promise, I’m not a bad person.

Darling: We’re not like everyone else on campus. We’ll show you something real. You gotta be real with us too.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself wanting to do exactly that—to show them the real me, whoever she was]

Siobhan: I’m planning a party for the Thetas Friday night. Perfect opportunity for you to bond with your sisters.

Nancy: I’m a little busy Friday night...maybe next time?

Siobhan: Being apart of a sorority is more than just the cute merch and bragging rights. We’re involved with the community and with this campus. As a pledge, I do expect you to commit to these things.

Nancy: I know and I will. I just need to take care of something.

Siobhan: [sighs] Don’t let me down, sister.

[the group murmurs excitedly]

Professor Munch: You did all this, Nancy?

Nancy: I hope it’s ok I’m here. I figured you could break in your new room with a movie night. Everything is already taken care of, and I bought a ton of movies ranging from comedy to horror and everything in between. They’re all yours to keep! Same with the popcorn machine. I know I’m using money again to impress you but... I guess I’m still trying to figure out what it means to be real. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it all.

Morgan: Yeah, not so fast. Stick around, watch a movie with us!

Nancy: Are you sure?

Knox: Of course we’re sure, squirt.

[tradgedyinwaves]

tw: emotional neglect, military inaccuracies, one sided relationship, sex, cursing, not necessarily unwanted sex, but not encouraged

You told him.

Over and over.

If he didn’t stop treating you like a maid and fuck buddy, you were done.

“Simon, you didn’t do the dishes like I asked and now I have to do them before I can get started on dinner,” you chastise, moving dishes around so you can get them done. His team was coming over for dinner that night, but he’d made no move to help you.

“Ah, I forgot. ‘M sorry,” he called from the couch, eyes still glued to the game flashing across the screen. You huffed and got to work, mentally creating a list of everything that would need done before the guys arrived in…four hours. Great, you had to shower too. 

Only once you’d finished the dinner and were getting into the shower, did Simon finally rise from the couch. He pushed his way in, joining you in the shower. His massive hands found your hips before sliding between your legs, searching for the little bundle of nerves.

Oh, now he wanted to pay attention to you? “Come on, luvie. Let me feel your tight cunt on my cock. I know how much you love my cock,” Simon grunted against your ear, his fingers dancing over the most intimate parts of you. And you let him.

Let him take what he wants because at least, he’s paying attention to you, right? You sigh as he slides into you, feeling the familiar burn and stretch. It’s quick and dirty. He pulls out to shoot his seed between your legs and down the drain. You don’t finish and climb out of the shower to let him finish in peace. 

You stand in front of your closet, opting for a black dress that flaunts your curves but still allows you comfort. Stepping out of the bathroom, fully nude as he uses a towel to dry his hair, he grunts when he glances at you but makes no effort to compliment or even really look at you. 

“I thought I asked you to do the laundry. You know I have that court marshal and Price will have my head if I don’t look presentable,” Simon rants from the bedroom, looking for the ONE button up he owns that he wore earlier in the week to a meeting with some big wigs that the higher ups wanted them to meet. 

The issue was that you were currently bedridden and unable to leave the bed for more than a few minutes to use the restroom or grab food. You’d been laid up with a case of pneumonia that led to bronchitis, making breathing difficult, let alone doing your boyfriend’s laundry. 

You didn’t answer him, rolling away from the closet and curling into yourself. He’d not even been taking care of you, citing that he couldn’t afford to get sick. What if he needed to be deployed, but he was stuck in bed because he was taking care of you? His reasoning was fair, but you were his girlfriend. Shouldn’t he be more worried about getting you well?

It was Simon’s last night home before being sent on a mission. You weren’t privy to where he was going or how long he’d be gone, but that was normal. Something you’d adjusted to when you started dating the man. 

Normally, he’d at least stay home with you the night before. Maybe a movie or something before he’d fuck you into the mattress for three minutes, leaving you unsatisfied. But he tried right? 

This time though, he was throwing his leather jacket on and grabbing the keys to his bike. “You’re seriously going out with the guys you’re shipping out with instead of staying home with me?” you cried, tears slipping down your cheeks as you finally broke from the quiet ways he neglected you. 

“Sorry. They wanted to have a good night of drinking before we’re forced to be sober for weeks on end,” he reasoned, barely even giving you a glance before coming over to kiss the top of your head then disappear out the door. 

The door clicked shut and you heard the key turn in the lock. 

When Simon returned two months later to an empty flat and all of your things missing, he was stunned. Finding the note and your copy of the flat key laying on the coffee table had him collapsing on the couch as he stared at the two sentence note you'd left. He’d taken you for granted for too long, neglected you when you deserved the world. 7 words to shatter his world.

“Don’t come looking for me. I’m done.” 

[leahrintarou]

hii i wanted to request like enemies to lovers for dabi x fem!reader when reader is one of the villains in league and she and dabi always hated each other, or more like they love each other but won't admit a shit. and also dabi is always this rude, snarky bitch and then one day they get send together for some mission and he gets injured, like somewhere in the chest and reader has to take care of him and patch him up. and like she decides to be a bitch now and she's like paying him back and she's not gentle at all like she's even rougher than needed just because 😆. but then in the middle of the night when she has to change his bandages she just softens because she's actually worried about him and he kisses her and it's like the first time he feels love in thousands years🥺❤️

✩₊˚.⋆ I HATE YOU - dabi/touya todoroki

CW: swearing, enemies to lovers, dabi being an asshole, y/n is stubborn, they lack communication skills but figure something out in the end lol, mentions of wound stitching, injuries, dabi's daddy issues, quirk usage, a lot of arguing. Word Count: 4.7k Author's Note: hii, sorry for taking so long to write this lol. my schedule was busy as hell. i hope you all enjoy it tho! ty for reading and if you have any requests for me to write, send it in!

"hate."

it was a word that held so much meaning and although y/n wasn't the type to feel it for many things, as she looked at the man standing in her doorframe with a bored expression as she laid in bed, it was all she could feel.

"what do you want touya? im tired." she groaned into her pillow. he rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. "shigaraki wants us to take care of something for him." he said, making y/n shift to sit up and face him properly. "together?" she questioned. dabi didn't answer and that alone make y/n feel dread in the pit of her stomach. she stood, walking to her door and pushing past dabi to find shigaraki who was sitting in the lobby of their hideout.

"tomura, you seriously sending out touya and i? it's late."

"exactly." he muttered, glancing at y/n as dabi showed up behind her. "given your quirks, i need you two to cause a distraction for me in the city. I've gotta get something from a hero guarded area. it'd be less bothersome if a few of them had to focus a bigger situation."

y/n sighed at that. her ability allowed her to use the quirks others. once she makes physical contact with them, a pill is produced and once ingested, she is able to use their quirk for up to half an hour. "why can't he just do it on his own?"

"because it wont be enough, y/n. just go and don't let you guys' odd relationship fuck anything up."

she glared at shigaraki due to his stern tone and the words he said overall. she didn't speak another words and only walked towards the exit, leaving dabi behind. she began walking off, sighing when dabi caught up next to her.

they walked shoulder to shoulder and y/n reached for his hand to which he pulled away imeedietly. "the fuck is your deal?"

"my deal is that i need your quick. stop bitching."

he gave her a look that almost burned through her being itself. "fine, whatever. just make it quick."

with a swift movement, y/n grabbed his wrist, her fingers just brushing against his skin. she felt the pill form in her palm and quickly swallowed it after placing it on her tongue. for the next thirty minutes, she had full control over dabi's blue flames.

dabi shook off her touch as soon as the transfer was done, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "hope you can handle it."

y/n clenched her fists, feeling the raw power simmering just beneath the surface. "i can handle your little fire tricks just fine."

they continued walking in silence, the tension between them thick, both preparing for the chaos they were about to unleash. the city lights ahead glowed brighter as they approached, a signal that they were nearing their destination. heroes patrolled these streets regularly, and they needed to make their distraction count.

"you take the east side. i’ll take the west. we meet back here once it's done," y/n said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline starting to pump through her veins.

dabi gave her a lazy nod, his eyes scanning the area.  "don’t burn the place down too fast." she said, voice sharp with a stern tone.

“take your own damn advice,” dabi sneered, turning on his heel without another glance, heading toward his side of the city.

y/n scowled at his retreating figure before focusing on her own task. she approached a crowded intersection, raising her hand as the blue flames sparked to life at her fingertips. they burned cold, unnatural, just like dabi’s. with a sharp flick of her wrist, she sent the fire roaring down the street, igniting everything in its path. cars exploded, storefronts erupted into flames, and terrified screams echoed through the night air.

sirens blared almost immediately. she sighed in frustration. this mission wasn’t the problem; it was having to work alongside dabi. she hated the way his flames felt inside her—too raw, too unstable. she could handle it, but the discomfort gnawed at her.

on the other side of the city, she could see dabi causing just as much destruction. his blue flames lit up the night sky, and even from a distance, she could feel their heat. as much as she despised him, she couldn’t deny the sheer force of his quirk. their fires painted the city in an eerie blue glow, chaos unfolding just as shigaraki had planned. every hero in the area would soon be rushing their way.

but despite the destruction, y/n could feel the strain. her body wasn’t built to handle dabi’s flames for too long, and each second was like a slow burn from the inside out. she clenched her teeth, refusing to show any weakness. not in front of him. never in front of him.

as another car exploded in front of her, y/n felt the flames flare uncontrollably for a moment, forcing her to stumble back. she quickly reined them in, but the effort was draining. she could hear the distant thrum of footsteps—heroes were coming, and they needed to keep the distraction going.

without warning, dabi appeared beside her, his usual bored expression replaced by a smirk that only fueled her irritation. "you’re pushing it too hard," he remarked coldly.

"i’m fine," y/n snapped, her voice sharper than intended, though there was a slight tremor beneath it.

he cocked an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "doesn’t look like it. you’re burning out."

"i said i’m fine," she repeated, venom in her tone. she forced the flames to obey her, though her body screamed in protest.

before he could say anything more, the ground around them rumbled. the heat in the air intensified, and y/n’s heart sank as she saw who had arrived—endeavor.

out of all the heroes, of course, it had to be him.

endeavor’s flames blazed brighter than anything y/n had seen, casting long shadows across the wreckage. his eyes locked onto dabi and y/n, sharp with recognition and disgust. “enough,” he barked, his voice deep and commanding. “this ends now.”

dabi’s expression darkened, but the smirk that stretched across his face was nothing short of malicious.

y/n swallowed, the tension between father and son palpable in the air. she could feel dabi’s flames still swirling inside her, unstable and dangerous. they were running out of time. they needed to keep endeavor distracted long enough for shigaraki to finish the mission, but with the fire slipping out of her control, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold on.

dabi moved forward, the flames on his body flickering angrily as he faced his father head-on. "you gonna try and stop me? i’d love to see you fail. again."

y/n watched as the two squared off, the heat between them almost unbearable. she could feel the pressure mounting, knowing she had to act fast, but part of her was consumed by the sheer hatred radiating from dabi. it was so intense it was suffocating. he wants this fight, she realized.

but right now, they couldn’t afford it. not with the mission still in play.

"touya, focus," she hissed under her breath, stepping up beside him. "we’re not here for this."

he barely spared her a glance, his jaw clenched. “shut up, y/n. stay out of it.”

y/n glared at him, biting back the retort that bubbled in her throat. as much as she despised him, she wasn’t about to let him throw the entire mission away for some personal grudge.

endeavor’s flames flared even brighter, his voice booming as he addressed dabi directly. "you’re not walking away from this one."

"we’ll see about that," dabi said through a sigh.

before either of them could make a move, y/n raised her hand, sending up a barrier of blue flames between dabi and endeavor. the fire crackled wildly, the heat forcing both men to step back.

“touya, get your shit together,” she snapped, glaring at him. “this isn’t about you and him right now. we’ve got a job to finish.”

dabi’s eyes widened with fury, his body rigid with anger. "are you serious right now? stay out of this, y/n. this has nothing to do with you."

“it has everything to do with me,” she shot back, her voice low. “if you screw this up, we’re both dead.”

“i’m not screwing anything up,” dabi growled, stepping toward her, his flames flaring dangerously. “you think I’m gonna pass up a chance to burn that bastard?” he gestured toward endeavor, who stood on the other side of the wall, watching them closely. "this isn’t just about some stupid distraction. it’s him."

y/n’s hands trembled slightly from the strain of maintaining the flames, but she refused to back down. “you think i care about your daddy issues right now? i’m not dying because you’ve got something to prove.”

dabi’s smirk twisted into a sneer, his voice dripping with venom. "oh, now you’re concerned about dying? cute. you can’t even handle my flames, and you want to play hero? don’t act like you can lecture me."

y/n’s temper flared. "i can handle more than you think, but i’m not stupid enough to throw everything away for some pointless grudge! shigaraki will kill us if you mess this up."

“i don’t care what shigaraki does,” dabi snarled, stepping even closer, his body practically vibrating with heat. “you think I’m afraid of him? of you? you’re out of your league, y/n. stay the hell out of my way.”

---

"touya, lets go!" she shouted. a few long minutes had passed by and both dabi and endeavor suffered injuries. y/n thought that it was just her eyes playing tricks on her, but it wasn’t. there on dabi’s chest was a large gash that spilled blood with every movement he made.

dabi didn’t even flinch, seemingly blinded by his rage. his eyes were locked onto endeavor, and the hatred burned hotter than the flames between them. y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. if they didn’t leave now, it would be too late.

“touya!” she screamed again, but her voice was lost in the roar of the fire and the madness of the fight. dabi was deaf to everything around him. his focus, his obsession with his father, drowned out any reason or sense.

just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket. she fumbled for it, hands shaking, and saw a message from

shigaraki: get out of there now. i’m done here.

her stomach dropped. they needed to leave. now.

she looked back at dabi, her gut twisting with panic. there was no way he could handle another attack in his state. endeavor was gearing up for something big—his flames surging brighter and hotter, ready to end this once and for all.

y/n didn’t even think; she reacted. she reached for dabi’s flames still coursing through her and launched herself forward. her body screamed in protest, the quirk tearing through her reserves, but she unleashed a massive wave of blue fire directly at endeavor. it wasn’t just dabi’s quirk she was using—she’d stored another teleportation quirk earlier in the week just in case. with a strained breath, she activated it.

in an instant, the world blurred, and she and dabi were pulled through space, landing back at the league’s hideout.

they collapsed on the floor. y/n's vision swam as the overwhelming strain of using both quirks at once hit her like a truck. every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire.

dabi was up almost immediately, his eyes wild and furious. “what the hell did you do?!” he roared, looming over her, his chest heaving.

y/n didn’t flinch, didn’t even respond. she just sat there, catching her breath, her eyes glazed with exhaustion and a cold, blank expression on her face.

“why the hell would you—” dabi continued, his voice a mix of anger and something else, something more vulnerable. but y/n didn’t care.

she stood, her legs shaking but her face expressionless. she looked him dead in the eye, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with a venomous calm. "hate."

dabi paused, caught off guard by the single word. his eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent.

“it’s what you live for, isn’t it?” she continued, her voice as cold as the flames she had just wielded. “but it’s going to kill you. and you were too blinded to see it.”

the silence between them was suffocating, tension hanging in the air like the weight of all their unresolved fury and pain. dabi’s lips twisted into a bitter sneer, but he didn’t respond. he couldn’t, not with the truth staring him in the face.

y/n finally turned her back to him, her voice distant as she walked away. "i’m tired, touya. i don’t care anymore."

he didn’t respond and that was unlike him. and although she didn't want it to, she turned around to glance at him. he was clutching the wounded area of his chest, the blood coating his hands. y/n stopped in her tracks and watched as he held her gaze with a heavy glare. "what?" he groaned with less heat in his voice.

"nothi-"

"they got you good." shigaraki said as he entered through the front door. dabi remained silent and y/n let out a sigh. "told you this plan was stupid." she muttered. shigaraki shrugged, holding up some sort of vile in a glass tube. "got what i needed though. thanks."

y/n shook her head and walked over to a table in their hideout where a first aid kit remained. "come on, touya." he never said a word despite their previous argument and the heated tension that remained between them and only followed behind y/n. this was surprising to her and even shigaraki. instead of questioning it though, she just decided to let it be, grateful for the silence.

they got to a nearby bathroom in the hideout, and y/n motioned for dabi to sit on the edge of the sink. "take off your shirt," she ordered, her voice flat, though she couldn’t help the slight irritation lacing her tone. dabi raised an eyebrow but said nothing, peeling off his tattered shirt to reveal the nasty gash on his chest. the wound was deep, the blood still seeping through the cracks of his burned skin.

“so fucking reckless” y/n muttered underneath her breath as she grabbed some antiseptic and gauze from the first aid kit. she didn’t wait for a response before starting to clean the wound, her hands rougher than necessary. dabi hissed in pain but didn’t pull away.

“watch it,” he growled, but there was no real heat in his words. his eyes, usually filled with spite or disinterest, softened for a brief moment as he looked at her. something shifted in his expression, like an apology he wasn’t quite ready to say aloud. instead, he settled for his usual sarcasm. "you don’t have to be so damn rough."

"oh, i’m sorry," y/n replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she pressed a little harder than needed on the wound. "is the fireproof bastard too delicate for a little first aid? if you didn’t want to get patched up, you shouldn’t have gone toe-to-toe with endeavor.

"i didn’t ask for your help, did i?"

"no, you didn’t. but here we are," y/n snapped, stitching up the wound with more force than was probably necessary. her fingers worked quickly, efficiently, but there was no gentleness in her touch.

dabi’s breath hitched as she tugged at the stitches. "you’re enjoying this way too much."

“maybe,” y/n replied, not looking up from her work. “or maybe i’m just pissed off because you almost got yourself killed. again.”

the room fell into a tense silence, only broken by dabi’s sharp breaths and the sound of her sewing needle pulling through his skin. but when y/n finally looked up, she caught dabi’s gaze. his eyes were softer now, not filled with the usual defiance. instead, there was something different in them, something almost… regretful.

“what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. "you’re staring."

“nothing,” dabi muttered, but he didn’t look away. his voice, usually laced with sarcasm or anger, was quieter now. he held her gaze for a moment longer. it wasn’t filled with the usual hate or resentment, but something else entirely. it almost looked like an apology, unspoken but there. maybe he realized just how close he’d come to death, and for once, wasn’t pushing her away.

after the final stitch, y/n wrapped the wound tightly, her hands no longer rough but steady. she didn’t say anything for a moment, just focusing on her work, and when she was done, she stood back, her eyes meeting his again. the air between them felt heavy, like there was something unspoken lingering just beneath the surface.

“you’re a reckless idiot,” she muttered, shaking her head, though her voice was softer, the anger dissipating into something more resigned.

dabi’s expression faltered, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his usual sharp retorts gone. "guess i am," he said quietly, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. "but you still patched me up, didn’t you?"

y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "only because i wasn’t going to let you bleed out like an idiot. someone’s gotta keep you alive."

there was a beat of silence before dabi let out a breath, leaning his head back against the wall. “guess i should thank you.”

y/n scoffed. “don’t bother. just… try not to get yourself killed next time.”

dabi’s eyes flickered to hers again, and this time, there was no sarcasm or sneer, just a tired acceptance. “i’ll try.” his tone was surprisingly sincere, catching her off guard. she blinked, taken aback, but instead of saying anything, she just grabbed the bloodied cloths and turned to leave. "get some rest," she muttered, not looking back.

for once, dabi didn’t argue.

---

it was the middle of the night, and despite the quiet that had settled over the hideout, y/n couldn’t sleep. no matter how many times she turned over in bed, sleep evaded her. the events from earlier kept playing over in her mind, along with the way dabi had been uncharacteristically silent after she patched him up.

with a frustrated sigh, she finally gave up on resting and pushed herself out of bed. maybe checking on dabi would settle her thoughts. his injuries needed to be looked at again anyway, and the bandages likely needed changing. she grabbed the first aid kit and padded softly down the hall toward his room.

when she got there, the door was slightly ajar. peeking inside, she saw him lying on the bed, his defined back rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. for a moment, she hesitated. dabi was never one to sleep deeply, always waking up at the slightest noise or movement. but his bandages had to be changed, and she didn’t trust him to do it himself.

quietly, she slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind her. she approached the bed, taking a seat on the edge as carefully as she could to avoid waking him. he was still, his usual guarded expression replaced by something softer in sleep. for a brief second, she allowed herself to just watch him. he always seemed so hardened, so untouchable, but like this... he looked almost human.

gently, y/n reached for the blood-stained bandages wrapped around his chest, her fingers working carefully to undo them. she peeled the old wrappings away, revealing the wound beneath. she grabbed fresh bandages from the kit, preparing to rewrap him, her movements slow and deliberate.

just as she began to wind the bandage around him again, dabi stirred. his eyes snapped open, instantly alert, and his hand shot out to grab her wrist before she could move any further. “what the hell are you doing?” he growled, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

y/n froze, meeting his gaze, her heart skipping a beat. "relax, it’s just me," she said quietly. "im checking to see if your stitches held and I've gotta change your bandages."

he blinked, still groggy but releasing her wrist. his grip loosened, and he leaned back against the pillow, eyes narrowing slightly but without the usual hostility. "im not a child. i can do that myself,” he muttered, though there wasn’t much bite to his words.

"i know, but you looked like you were going to bleed out earlier so forgive me for double-checking." she retorted, continuing to wrap the fresh bandages around his chest. her touch was gentle but firm, and dabi didn’t stop her this time, watching her work in silence.

"always playing the martyr, huh?" he mumbled after a long pause, his voice quieter now. "not a martyr. just realistic. you're reckless and you know it."

dabi was silent as she finished up. he sat up once she was done and watched as she placed the items back into the first aid kit. "why are you up so late anyways?"

"couldn’t sleep." she shrugged. dabi raised a questioning brow and she shrugged. "you expect me to sleep after everything that happened today?"

"causing chaos isn't something that you haven't done before though." he hummed, watching as she compiled all of the used bandage together to throw away. "but watching you almost get yourself killed was."

"you really care that much?"

y/n lowered her eyes at him and shook her head in pure disbelief. "no shit, touya. why would i have teleported us home? stitch up your wound, and even hours later, i come back to check on you. you sound so fucking selfish right now." she stood up, turning to walk away, but dabi reached for her wrist.

he caught it just in time, letting out a small groan from the swift movement. "what the fuck, touya. be careful." she said, placing the first aid kit down and a hand to his back. "im not selfish."

"really?" she deadpanned. "y/n, you've hated me ever since i joined the league. understand me when i get confused on whether or not you actually give a fuck when it comes to me." he ran is palm down his face, trying to fight his exhaustion.

"i can say the same for you." y/n spoke.

"i only return the attitude that's given to me." dabi said, staring at y/n as she tried to read his features but he gave her nothing to work with other than an emotionless expression. "i don't hate you."

"so what do you feel, y/n? you're not making sense."

she stared at him and they held eye contact. y/n let down whatever guards she had up in hopes that dabi can read what she was trying to tell him. he was good at that whether she liked it or not. "say it." he finally said. y/n figured that he got the idea in just mere seconds.

"no." she shook her head with a scoff. "i hate the fact that i feel it for you anyways. I'm not going to speak it into reality."

dabi’s grip on y/n’s wrist loosened as he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “you really think not saying it makes a difference? you’ve already given yourself away, y/n.”

y/n’s eyes flashed with irritation. “you don’t get it. saying it makes it real, and i can’t deal with that right now.”

dabi scoffed, leaning back on the bed, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at her. “oh, spare me the drama. you think i don’t know how you feel? you act like you’re the only one here who’s conflicted.”

y/n glared at him, yanking her wrist free. “conflicted? you? you barely even acknowledge when people care about you. you’re reckless with your life, like nothing matters, and you think i’m the one being dramatic?” her voice rose, frustration bubbling over.

dabi sat up straighter, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “don’t pretend like you’ve been so open about your feelings either, y/n. you’ve spent most of your time pushing me away or acting like you couldn’t care less. and now, when it actually matters, you wanna play the martyr?”

her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “i’m not playing anything, touya! you’re impossible to deal with. you push everyone away, you never let anyone in, and now you have the nerve to act like i’m the problem?”

dabi’s expression hardened, his eyes flashing with anger. “you really think you’ve got me all figured out, huh? like you’re the only one who’s allowed to have their guard up? newsflash, y/n, you’re not as mysterious as you think.”

y/n’s frustration boiled over as she crossed her arms and shot him a withering glare. “then what do you want from me, touya? huh? what is it you actually want? because all you ever do is act like nothing gets to you!”

dabi stood up abruptly, towering over her as the tension between them thickened. “you think it’s easy for me to be like this? you think i enjoy pushing people away?” his voice was low, dangerous, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and something else y/n couldn’t quite place.

her heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to back down. “then stop doing it! stop acting like you don’t care about anyone or anything!”

“i care more than you think!” dabi snapped, taking a step closer. “but you—you’re always so busy pretending you don’t want this, like it’s all some burden for you!”

y/n’s pulse quickened, her frustration and confusion mounting. “i never said i didn’t want—”

before she could finish, dabi’s hands shot up to either side of her face, pulling her in roughly. his lips crashed against hers with a sudden, fierce intensity that stole the breath from her lungs. the kiss was aggressive, meant to shut her up, and y/n’s mind went blank as every thought evaporated under the force of it.

her body reacted before she could process what was happening, her hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer even as her heart raced with the shock of it all.

dabi’s lips moved against hers, demanding and relentless, and she found herself kissing him back just as fiercely, pouring all her pent-up anger and frustration into the kiss. it was heated, messy, and full of everything they couldn’t say out loud.

he pulled back for a brief moment, their breaths mingling as he muttered, “you talk too damn much.”

before she could respond, he kissed her again, cutting off any retort she might’ve had. his hands slid from her face to her waist, gripping her tightly as if he couldn’t stand to let her go. the anger between them melted into something else entirely—something raw and consuming.

y/n’s heart hammered in her chest as she kissed him back, her hands finding their way to his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. the argument, the tension, all of it faded into the background as they lost themselves in the intensity of the moment.

when they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. dabi’s grip on her waist remained firm as he stared down at her, his expression softening just slightly.

“maybe i don’t want you to shut up,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, “but you make it hard to think.”

y/n’s lips parted, still swollen from the kiss, her breath coming in shallow bursts. “then maybe you should start listening,” she whispered, her voice shaky but steady.

dabi let out a low chuckle, his thumb brushing lightly against her hip. “yeah, maybe.” his voice dropped even lower as he added, “but that doesn’t mean i’m done shutting you up.”

with that, he pulled her back into another kiss, this one slower but no less intense, as if he was determined to make sure she knew exactly how he felt, even if neither of them were ready to say the words just yet.

she pulled back for a breath, her forehead meeting with his shoulder as she closed her eyes.

"i hate you, touya."

"then hate me more."

got a request? send it in and i'll write it :D

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[necrotic-nephilim]

I started in DC by reading fanfics, but as I began to read actual comics, I started to be unable to read the actual fanfic that got me into it in the first place because it's so out of character.

But there are still some stories that I love to read because I love the found family trope so much, even if it isn't really accurate to the source material.

As a comics purist (sometimes), are there tropes that you like enough that you'll still enjoy a fic even if it's not accurate to canon?

oh my god this is SUCH a fun question. bc while i started with the comics, there were certain characters and/or character dynamics where i was exposed to the fanon before the canon (just bc it's hard to read everything when you start out just to read some fanfic) and so i've definitely experienced the fanon to canon transition. (*especially* with Jason Todd. i had only read 80s/90s stuff where he was already dead or the New-52 bc that was on-going when i got into comics and man. the fanon misunderstandings i had about him before i got frustrated and sat down to read all his pre-Flashpoint stuff were absolutely bonkers.) and aside from that, whilst i tend to prefer canon over fanon, i'm not past giving fanon its flowers for occasionally having really interesting insights. occasionally. so some of my fanon "guilty pleasure" tropes would probably be

Morally Grey Tim Drake - this is one where if you try to back it up with canon, i *will* get salty about it. of everyone in the Batfam aside from maybe Bruce and Cass, Tim has the *most* black and white morals. often his internal conflicts are routed in such an inability to compromise his moral views and it can cause him to clash with other characters. he's *very* stiff and rigid in his beliefs and is *rare* to compromise in even the smallest ways. i mean, DC has repeatedly used Tim Drake of Tomorrow/Savior/Gun Batman!Tim for a reason. it's to demonstrate that of everyone, Tim *cannot* have his morals compromised. there's no grey area for him. he's zero or a hundred, so if he tips over the edge of "too far" he tips *all the way*, and doing so is one of his worst fears, how he could go "too far" if he let himself. a couple panels out of context from Red Robin (2009) (which was a grief spiral for Tim to begin with) don't change that. now that said. if it's done *right*, i sort of love Tim being morally grey in fanfic. it takes a specific flavor for me, and it's incredibly important to include that mental spiral along with it, of him struggling to justify it. i don't have any interest in "Tim Drake is loosy goosy with Bruce's morals and has the highest kill count and no one knows teehee" bc it doesn't play with the interesting parts of making Tim morally grey, which are fracturing his psyche. but all in all, i think it's fun to put Tim in a morally grey area and i will read it in fanfic and i enjoy writing it a lot

Joker Junior!Tim Drake - i've not written it on this account (yet) but on my main ao3 account one of my biggest fics surrounds this concept. this is one of those "well *technically* it's canon but only in a specific very divorced from the comics universe and would not work at all in the main timeline" so, i categorize it as fanon in that 95% of fics exploring the concept are not doing so within the Batman Beyond universe, but the main timeline. i just love it. I'll take any excuse to whump Tim, but this concept is so fun. psychologically breaking Tim will always be my favorite pastime. there are so many ways to explore the long-term effects this could have on him, how it could affect the Batfam. i'm not a fan of it being used as a "gotcha" to Jason or Babs' trauma with the Joker to paint Tim as the Ultimate Victim, but it is fun to see how their relationships would be affected by being mutual victims of him. (i have a vague JayTim idea where TIm fully retires from being Robin after being Joker Junior and killing the Joker, making Steph Robin for most of his typical Robin era and Jason still tracks him down out of curiosity bc he wants to know what happened and all. very underbaked but i've got thoughts.)

Renegade/Apprentice of Slade!Dick Grayson - this is another one where yes, this happened *sort of* in canon, but i highly doubt most people writing Renegate!Dick have read or are actually pulling from Nightwing: Renegade. it's just an exploration fo the concept fo Dick being Slade's apprentice and i will always eat it up in any capacity. whether Dick grows up with Slade from a young age, or chooses Slade for whatever reason later in life. it's not anything that works in canon bc it compromises Dick morally (similar to the above with Tim) and therefore will always come across incredibly fanon in most fics. but i can't say i don't enjoy it. it's fun to make Dick a little morally fucked up and see what you can make him under Slade's tutelage.

Jason & Damian Meeting in the League -there's no world where i believe this could work in the canon comics. (maybe in the Young Justice cartoon i suppose, but even then i think it's iffy) i would go as far to say it's wildly unrealistic. i don't see a world where Ra's would let Jason anywhere *near* Damian, bc Jason was Talia's pet project that he didn't approve of. that all said, there's something very interesting about how they *could've* met and them potentially bonding during that timeframe. them being somewhat brotherly during this time because Jason sees Bruce in Damian and sort of latches onto the kid and Damian is full of wonder hearing real stories about Batman and Robin, then that getting violently ripped away by Jason leaving the League is fun to me. it's fun how that could affect them within the Batfam and all. it's super fanon to me, but i do not care. i will eat it up

Bad Dad Clark Kent/Good Dad Lex Luthor - i will admit as a late, i've been less and less kind to this particular fanon bc of everything i've argued with people about, *this* one seems the most pervasive as misunderstood fanon. i don't mind when fanon exists, my gripe is when ppl try to claim it's canon. and the *arguments* i've had over this with people who can never seem to cite an actual comic are... frustrating. but that said, i think there is something fun to this strictly in fanon. the duality of who you expect to accept Kon and who you expect to hurt him being flipped is just sort of fun for the occasional guilty pleasure fic. it can make Kon's internal conflict a bit more interesting. the same goes for the Jon favoritism from Clark, it's not a canon thing (and i rlly wish ppl understood how complicated the timeline of Kon and Jon is and any distance from Clark toward Kon isn't malice, it's that Kon is from a timeline that Clark does not remember in the current canon so Clark just straight up doesn't know the poor kid.) but it's sort of fun to give Kon that complex of being overlooked and forgotten sometimes. making Kon just a *bit* more Luthor than Kent will *always* appeal to me in fanfic, especially if he *knows* it's wrong but craves approval from anyone who will give it.

Good Dad Bruce Wayne - i'll die on the hill Bruce is canonically a shitty father. maybe not to the extreme some people write him as, but he's not great at it. that said, i enjoy it in fanfiction. sometimes, i just want silly fluff or hurt/comfort where Bruce finally gets it right and manages to comfort whatever Batkid is in the fic. one of my favorite fics of all time is hinged on Bruce being a good dad, so i think it's just fun to explore how good the relationships *could* be, if Bruce was slightly less of an asshole. i usually prefer him as an asshole, but there are times i want low stakes nonsense.

Gotham Rogues Having Soft Spots for Robin(s) - just about every Rogue in Gotham has done something absolutely irredeemable, and most of them don't like or care about anyone in the Batfamily. but if there's a fic where one of the Robins inexplicably is sort of close with a Rogue and they have a cute silly relationship out of it? I'll eat it up i fear. Steph and the Riddler are besties? I'll believe it. Tim and Scarecrow get along pretty well? give me ten of these. Rogues protecting Robins just hits a spot. the unexpected nature of the relationship, as well as the fact they see each other regularly, can make a lot of good fodder.

[paper-mario-wiki]

I feel like I've ended up in the same spot as so transmasc before me: I have a lovely cis boyfriend who loves my tits which I love for him, but I am getting dysphoric to the point I wanna lift my lips and show a lil teeth when I see his hands coming towards them. Feels bad because they are his favorite and we haven't been fucking as much because as soon as he starts touching me I am out of it™ and get all in my head and freeze up. Any advice?

good god, brother. i am utterly baffled at why you have elected me as the strategist for this problem, and i'm even more confused as to why you have chosen to go into as much detail as you have.

but.

if i were to give you some advice on this

i'd say that you should consider a conversation with your partner about the long-term plan for the relationship. a "relationship" is two lives that are connected, right? and your life is not one where you're gonna have boobs for the rest of it (or at least based on what you've told me i would assume, should you have your way, those bad boys are gettin lopped off at some point), therefore it's pertinent that it be brought up, because it concerns your life, therefore it concerns the relationship, therefore it concerns him, yes?

now, the first and most obvious thing to start with out the gate is the boundary, made clear and concise: the hills are now closed, off limits to tourists. all discussions regarding this come next. make it clear that it's about something quite core to your identity, and something that does in fact cause physical pain (a panic response from the nervous system is pain homie).

this brings some followup questions (and remember, this isn't an interrogation, it's a dialogue to share): how does he feel about this? if he's against, why? for that matter, how much does it bother him? is there something he doesn't understand about your discomfort? is there some concern he has about your financial or bodily well-being with regards to the procedure? is it because it's vital to his attraction to you as a partner? if that's the case, would their removal be a deal-breaker?

now keep in mind, these question can be brought up whether or not you've got immediate plans to engage in the aforementioned lopping-off of your aforementioned Bad Boys, because the actual point of this dialectical exercise is to create a simple, easy to navigate, easy to understand conversation, which will set a foundation for further negotiations-- should you learn something new about each other, or yourselves, or the relationship as a whole.

either way, i do not think that letting it keep happening and keeping it to yourself is a good idea. i can understand feeling guilty about withholding some physical and emotional gratification you could give "easily" to this person you care dearly for, but trust me when i say that it's not the way to let it be. not just because it's unfair to your partner to secretly grow to resent them for a reason you don't want to vocalize, but to yourself as well.

you may not know it, but by keeping it to yourself you're slowly building up a resentment. that frustration actually shows up pretty clearly in your message. and even if what you're frustrated about is only that particular activity, that activity is irrevocably tied to another person. specifically, a person that you consider to be a pretty central pillar in your life. if that resentment grows, it can evolve into anger, hatred, fear, paranoia, and all sorts of nasty things. and even aside from the emotional and psychological damage that can do, it can grow into a physiological issue, where your brain wears out more and more due to the growing emotional distress ripping through your neurons with all sorts of "emergency" chemicals. like i said, the panic response is a physical pain, even if your body doesn't feel like it "hurts".

so. to summarize.

ABSOLUTELY bring it up. if you don't, it could become damaging to your relationship, and also your actual real life physical brain.

when you do bring it up, remember that the goals are to set a boundary, and to reach an understanding through mutual conversation. it's a dialogue, not a lecture.

when you reach an understanding, figure out if the relationship needs to be renegotiated in some way. that usually means new boundaries, or expectations. or maybe nothing! though surely your boyfriend can find more things to love about you.

that's as best as i can muster. you don't have to follow it, but hopefully it'll at least give you some ideas you can use.

[nqueso-emergency]

the reason we find it rather impossible to believe the bestie boos is easy, and made up of:

-they put words into fan’s mouths to try to discredit them or make them look bad (case in point, what’s been happening in the last two hours with you, and overall their approach to this blog)

-they choose to ignore the showrunner’s explanation about a scene and an episode and instead claim their very biased take on it is the right one, and if you disagree, then you’re just stupid. and have no media literacy.

-they pick a completely different moment in the scene and try to pretend this is a reaction to another one (daddy issues joke being the biggest example here), once more trying to pass it as canon, and trying to back up nonsense takes and arguments with it. nevermind it can be easily disproven by, well - watching the scene.

-they take two co-stars getting along well as a secret sign of them hooking up irl. furthermore, they take any smile they muster during interviews as a secret sign that buddie is going canon.

-they obsess over an actor for doing his job, and pretend they’re in with the cast on hating him. nevermind the cast has had nothing but positive things to say about him.

-they act as if their ship is inevitable when you’ve had not only the cast denying it as best as they can (together with JLH and HC outright saying no to it, you have RG stating Eddie is straight over and over again. please read between the lines there), but the showrunner himself claiming that:

-GA is not the same as fandom. meaning, they’re not as crazy for buddie as a part of the fandom is. meanwhile, all evidence indicates the GA does like BuckTommy.

-he’s expressed (alongside OS) how much he wants to get buck off the hamster wheel. describes what he could consider buck’s perfect partner. in walks in the perfect embodiment of that - tommy. please let’s stop ignoring that wasn’t the biggest fucking foreshadowing from tim’s part.

honestly, i could go on and on. this is just the main ones for me.

and at this point i hope the bestie boos know we are not intimidated by them. mostly annoyed and lowkey amused by the level of unhinged some of them are.

sorry for the rant 🫡

Thank you!! I love this!!

[razrbladekiss]

TOLERATE IT | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: an argument with joel doesn’t end the way that you think it will.

PAIRING: joel miller x afab!reader. (established relationship)

WARNINGS: very short piece. angsty argument so if u do nawt want to read, then skip <3. i’m in the middle of an argument with my bf and instead of feeding into it, i have immortalized it into my writing 😊 sorry joel for being my proverbial punching bag ! maybe ill make a part two if we ever make up LOL.

Fat tears spill over the swollen apples of your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away with the already much-too-wet sleeve of your sweatshirt, and the room starts to spin.

Your face is damp with salty—bittersweet—upset, and a splitting migraine is beginning to fester away at the inside of your fucking brain.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Joel stands with both hands on his hips while you’re sat cross-legged on the couch, a cushion sat plump in your lap. “Can’t keep cryin’ whenever we have an argument—“

“But you’ve upset me, Joel!” Almost incoherently, you blabber. “You can’t expect me to be cool with the fact that you were flirting with some—some skank last night!”

He drags his left hand over his face. Joel exerts an exasperated sigh. He doesn’t know how many more hours he can argue with you about this, before he says something that he’s going to regret.

“I know. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it—but why the fuck are you still crying?!” Joel barks. “It’s been hours, baby! Can’t we move past this—“

“No! We can’t!” Scraping your hand across your eyes—all tears immediately drying up—you stand to attention. You smack the pillow onto the couch in complete and utter fucking fury. “It’s been four years of us, Joel. Four fucking years that I thought we were happy—but apparnelty you’re not! Are you bored of me, or something?!”

“No!” Defensively, he exclaims. He’s just as annoyed as you, now. Though he has no place to be. “I don’t know what came over me—“

“Four years. Forty-Eight months I’ve spent being by your side—completely faithful—and you think it’s okay to just fuck around on me?!”

“I’m not fuckin’ around on you!” Mood—and tone—matching, he counters. “I love you. But I was hammered last night—“

I was hammered. I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know what came over me.

BULLSHIT. You’ve heard it all before and, frankly, you’re sick of it. The excuses, the lies…Dating a prolific man-whore isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, actually.

“You need to get your act together.” With a shaking hand, you point at him. Your finger is trembling against his flannel. “If you want this to work, then you’ll stop lying to me—“

“I’m. Not. Fucking. Lying.” Through gritted teeth, he says.

Joel has confessed his wrongdoings, but it’s not enough. To you, he owes you more than just an explanation.

“I don’t believe you.” Devoid of any emotion—any feeling—you state. “You told me that you were going to Tommy’s last night to watch the Cowboys game. But Tommy came here at six o’clock asking for you, and said that they weren’t even fucking set to play! You’re a fucking liar, Joel!”

He backs away with both hands up, completely defeated. You’re tenacious, when you want to be. Sanctimonious. He knows he’ll never win an argument, so he walks away to leave you alone with time to cool off.

But to you—to most people—that’s him giving up.

Joel takes the keys to his truck from the fruit bowl beside the front door, grabs his jacket and unlocks the front door.

He turns to you without even so much as a smile. “Call me when you’re ready to have an adult fucking conversation.”

Joel slams shut the door and you begin to fume all over again. To your left is a picture of the two of you last summer—when you were happy and carefree in Mykonos—and you know that it won’t do anything to help the issue, but you grab it. With a firm hand, you launch it at the door.

Fragments of glass shatter against the door, the floor and fly across the room in every which direction perfectly depicting the current state of your heart after Joel started to break it.

Your eyes are streaming again, hearing his truck peel away from the sidewalk and to god-knows fucking where.

But there’s no use in crying over him anymore. You just need to tolerate it. Tolerate this. Because Joel knows it’ll take more than an “I’m sorry” to really make it up to you.

[feasibilities]

Afternoon Tea | Jim x Married!Reader

Synopsis: Jim visits his best friend's wife while she's home alone.

Warnings: Soft Fem!Dom, Jealousy, Cheating, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Past Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Guilt

Author's Note: I started classes late last month and had some health issues but I'm doing better. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Jim’s jealousy towards Chris made no sense. He had a beautiful wife and managed 2 children with her with little issue. Why should he be jealous of a marriage to a younger woman that happened because of a midlife crisis? 

“Hey, Jim. Come in.” You beamed. He loved seeing you smile. 

“Hey.” Jim said softly, taking you in. 

“I just came from yoga class, so excuse my attire. Would you like some tea?” You apologized, walking to the kitchen. 

“Sure, no problem.” He replied, distracted by how your leggings hugged your legs and ass. He took a seat at the table to gather himself. Pouring him a mug, you gave him a dish of sugar and lemon. 

“Thank you.” He said warmly. Curious glances were exchanged between you two before he broke the silence. 

“How have things been with Chris?” He inquired.

“Good, I suppose.” You trailed off. Noticing your apprehension, he decided to pry. 

“You sure?” Jim asked.

“Well, Chris wants to have kids but I would like to wait until I finish graduate school. I get that he’s older but this is really important to me.” You revealed, fiddling with your wedding ring. Jim was humored by your youthful vocabulary.

“Having kids is a big responsibility. Danielle and I met at university but waited until we graduated. I know he can be difficult to deal with at times but someone like you can convince him.” He said, sipping out of the mug. 

“You’re so much easier to talk to.” You said, sitting in the chair adjacent to him. Your gaze lingered on him. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you studied his features. Truthfully, he was much more intriguing than Chris. You hated Danielle for getting to him first. 

“How do you keep things exciting? Chris can be good time but you seem way more fun.” You said, scooting closer to him. 

“Oh, I’m no fun at all.” He said, shaking his head with a smile.

“I think you are.” You spoke softly, touching his arm. He tensed at the contact and sat his mug down. Jim was interested in whatever your plans were but worried about the consequences of fucking his friend’s wife. 

“Uh, I think I should go. It was nice speaking with you. Thanks for the tea.” He said politely, standing up. You grabbed his wrist and led him to the living room. Before he could protest, you shoved him on the couch and began undressing. Jim’s face turned bright red when your bra fell to the floor. This was much better than the time he spied on you taking a shower during a family vacation. His lecherous reminiscence was interrupted by you standing over him. 

“Do you want me, Jim?” You cooed, holding his chin. 

“Yes, I always have.” He answered embarrassingly quick. You climbed onto his lap and kissed him harshly. His large hands moved to your ass and massaged the soft flesh. You nipped at his bottom lip. Jim suddenly flipped you on your back and perched between your legs. He stared at you at like a dog waiting for direction. You quickly realized you could get him to do anything you wanted. 

“Go ahead.” You said. Jim’s tongue swirled around your clit as you yanked at his peppered locks. He took in the redolent scent of your trimmed pubic hair. His hands moved up to your breasts and hovered over them. Noticing his hesitancy, you pressed your hands over his and moaned sweetly. His tongue slipped into your damp heat. His pale blue eyes flickered open and his thumbs teased your nipples. You rocked against his face as you chased your high. After cleaning you off, he sat up to catch his breath. 

“Good boy.” You praised, smearing the moisture on his lips. You pulled him down and straddled him. You hurriedly unbuckled his pants and slid them halfway down his legs. 

“Wait-“ Jim started, wanting to use protection.

“There’s no time.” You whispered, sinking onto his length. A low groan escaped him as you slipped your fingers into his mouth. There was a marked desperation in his eyes. You relished in your newfound power. 

“Suck.” You ordered. You felt him suckle on your fingers gently. Rutting against him, you saw that Jim was already close. His heart was beating rapidly and his hands found the soft flesh of your hips. A tender kiss on his forehead made him fall apart. Hot spurts of his seed spilled into you. You embraced him as he came down from his high. Reality seemed to sink in for him as soon as it was over. He was overwhelmed with guilt and dread at the thought of his friend’s wife carrying his child. 

“I’ll take a Plan B. No worries.” You smiled innocently. 

“I-I have to get back for dinner.” He said nervously. 

“Stay.” You cooed. Despite his obligation, he couldn’t pull away from you more than a second. 

[damiansgoodgirll]

I know this is so wrong on many levels, but would you please make something with punk cheating on her wife with reader? It can be smut and angsty at the same time, like they both are feeling really guilty but they can’t stop the sexual tension between them 🥵😭😩❤️🙏

AJ I LOVE YOU I PROMISE

cm punk x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ +18, smut, angst, toxic phil, mean phil, cheating, daddy issues (?)

nasty attraction

what you and phil were doing was wrong on so many levels. he had a wife waiting for him at home, a wife he loved. he promised her to love and protect her, to be always by her side and yet he every week, after raw, he was always in your bed.

it started as an accident. he felt so guilty after you slept together that he avoided for a month. when he realised that he couldn’t avoid you forever, he talked with you, explained that what happened was just a mistake and that he had no feelings for you, that he was deeply in love with his wife and that he needed time to make amend.

you were hurt. you knew that he didn’t have feelings for you but the harsh way he said it, almost as if it was your fault you had sex, it hurt you.

he promised he would have never happened again but he couldn’t keep it promise much as just a few weeks later he was the one dragging you into his hotel room.

he needed to let go some tension and he thought that you wouldn’t mind. of course you didn’t mind. you were probably too focused on your crush for the old man to think that he was only using you.

that mistake turned into more and more mistakes and you couldn’t deny the immense attraction that you had for him. he was older, hot, more experienced than you, rough and cold, married.

all the red flags were right in front of you but you were too blind to see them.

“one last time…this is our last time…” he whispered while one of his hand was working on your clit as the other kept your wrists clutched to the bed.

everytime, he swore that it was going to be the last time but every week the same routine occurred.

he was happily married. he loved his wife more than he could explain. but there was something that you had that made him crawl under your skin.

you were young, in your twenties. you were inexperienced so that lead him to be able to do everything he wanted with you and your body. he knew you had a crush on him, he wasn’t stupid. and he knew it was wrong to play with your feelings but he couldn’t help it. you were like a stress reliever for him, someone he would be rough and mean, someone he could release all the past tension he had.

“fuck…” you moaned, your voice soft while his calloused hands kept harshly stimulating your clit.

“uh uh…bad girls don’t get to cum…” he loved the game he was playing “turn around…ass up” he ordered. he expected you to obey as you always did but there was some hesitation this time “i gave you an order y/n…don’t make me punish you” this was a common routine. he would tease you, he would turn you around and fuck you and then he would leave.

“i don’t want to…” you confessed, opening your eyes.

“to do what?” he didn’t meant to be so mean with you. sometimes he forgot that you were a person just like him and that you had feelings. especially after the whole situation with drew mcintyre, he was more stressed than ever.

“this…” you didn’t want to sound so weak but something shifted between the two of you. he wasn’t always so mean. sure, he wasn’t a vanilla lover but there times where he would actually take his time with you and make you feel appreciated. none of this quick fuck excuses “the way you’ve been treating me for the past weeks…i don’t deserve this phil…i’m not your whore and even if you don’t see this thing the way i see it, you don’t have to treat me like im nothing…” you didn’t meet his eyes.

guilt flowing through his body.

you were right. he knew you were right. but he knew that if he showed even the slightest bit of emotion and kindness towards you, he knew it would be over for him. he didn’t love you, absolutely. he didn’t have a crush like you had. but he was attracted by you, there was like a magnet around you that kept pulling him towards you.

he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. thinking about how your presence was so intoxicating for him.

“i know…and i’m sorry…” he apologised “i’m so fucking sorry…i shouldn’t have been so rude with you, i just…”

“you just?” you were curious.

“what we do…it’s so wrong, i know i shouldn’t do this, i have an amazing wife waiting for me at home…i love her more than anything but i can’t help being so fucking attracted to you, and i know that if i get affectionate with you everything will change and i don’t want that…” he looked at you while speaking and it seemed true to his words.

“we can stop if you want to…” you hoped he would say no.

“that‘s the fucking problem…i can’t stop, i can’t get enough of you, your body, the way you sounds so sweet everytime you cum on my dick…i can’t stop this” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“one last time?” you asked him, hoping that he would say yes.

“one last time…” and he swore that it was going to be the last time for you and him.

he gently laid you down on the bed and kissed upon your body, as if he wanted to apologize for being so mean with you. and for a second you believed him, you believed that his intentions were pure but you remembered that he was a married man, a man who loved his wife, a man who couldn’t give you the future you wanted and deserved and for that you will always resent him.

when he pushed inside of you, his movements were slow, calm. like he wanted to savour you one last time.

he moaned into your shoulder, trying to control himself. he wanted to own you, to show you who was in charge. he wanted to bend you over like he always did but tonight was different, he wanted to have you one last time.

“shit…phil…” you didn’t mean to sound so weak but he was hitting all of the right spots inside of you and you couldn’t keep your moans low. he knew your body so well, and he knew what pushed you on the edge.

“right there baby?” he smirked, taking a deep look into your face. your eyes were closed, trying to stop tears from falling.

“yes…” and that was all he needed to hear since he started moving a little faster, hitting your sweet spot.

“i wanna feel you coming around my dick…one last time…” there was a little of sadness, maybe resentment.

his lips left some kisses over your neck and collarbone, mixing with the pleasure he was already bringing you. this was a sweet phil, a side that you never saw. and you thought about how lucky was his wife to have him, to having him kiss her goodnight every single night, how lucky she was to have him in her arms and hold him every day. you wanted to be that girl and you knew that someday you would get your chance to be loved, just that it wouldn’t be phil to love you like that.

a tear rolled down your eye, both from sadness and pleasure, he was easily bringing you over the edge “phil…i’m so close…” you moaned as your hands moved to mark his back. you didn’t mean to but if that was your last time together, you needed to have him as close as possible so you brought him closer to you. your chest meeting with tattooed one.

he sped a little more, you could hear the cracks from the bed, wondering if your hotel neighbours were hearing those too.

“come for me baby…” he whispered against your skin. those words making you clench hard around his dick that released inside of you. with a deep growl phil came, spilling inside of you. your legs still shaking a bit from the stimulation.

you both looked at each other, speechless. you hoped he would say something first but nothing came out of his mouth.

“our last time uh?” you tried to laugh, but deep down all you wanted to do was cry.

he chuckled, trying to ease the tension “yeah…our last time…i should probably go back to my bedroom” he whispered.

“you should” you didn’t want to hear more words coming out his mouth. you wanted to be left alone and never see him again.

he quickly stood up and he dressed himself. he took one look at you before leaving the room.

you stayed there, watching the ceiling and let all those tears fall.

“she’s so lucky…” you whispered, knowing that you’ll never have him.

[salchat]

This is my tiny, innocent Dean. I've drawn him for the story I'm working on at the moment, which I'm having tremendous fun with! It's a version of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca and is my first venture into the omegaverse, because I needed Dean to be the young omega who gets swept off his feet by the older, widowed Castiel Novak.

It could be a couple of weeks before I begin posting, because I have quite a few things to work out. I may add some Secret Garden to the mix, or a dash of Jane Eyre, just for fun. But one thing's for sure - the path to true love will not run smooth! This relationship is going to have a lot of issues to work through!

Anyway, if you'd like to read a scene, there's one below the cut...

The maitre d’s voice rang through the dining room.  “Alpha Castiel Novak!”

“Oh, good heavens!���  Mrs Butters’ shrill exclamation jolted Dean out of his daydreams.  “It's Castiel Novak! No, don't look!”

He had no intention of looking.  It’d just be another more-money-than-sense alpha knothead, puffing himself up to be admired and fawned over.  Dean didn’t give a shit.  Whereas Mrs B wet her panties every time some new high society stiff arrived at the hotel.  Still, spilling her shit-load of toxic gossip meant that Dean wasn’t getting lectured or slapped or whacked with the hard wooden edge of her fan, so he’d put on his best listening face and count it a win.

She leant toward him.  “Castiel Novak is one of The Novaks.  The Novaks, Dean.”

Who the fuck were the Novaks?

“Fabulously wealthy, one of the best traditional families.”

Assholes, then.

“Their estate is in Eversett.”  She frowned.  “Or Meldonshire.  Somewhere like that.”  She waved an airy hand, her eyes glued to the alpha’s position.  “Lebanon, the house is called.  One of the few Great Houses still being managed as it should.  Oh, he's coming this way! Oh good heavens! Oh my!”

Dean anchored his eyes to the salt and pepper set in order not to roll them.  Mrs B might not want to be seen slapping her omega companion in public, but she had a retentive memory for any little slip-up and would be sure to save up one of her best for later if she caught him.

“But sir, we can set another table next to the dance floor for you.  Really, it would be no trouble.”  The maitre d’ was going full-throttle with the smarm.

Dean didn’t catch the words of the response – just a rumble, like something heavy dragging over gravel.

“Or with a view of the terrace.  It would be the work of a moment, Mr Novak.  And a much more pleasant situation.”

The rumble was louder but no more distinct.

“Then please, allow me to bring a bottle of our best champagne.”

The gravel scraped again.  

“Whiskey.  Yes, of course, sir.  And the a la carte menu.”

The gravel stirred itself into a snarl.  Jeez, this guy was more knot-headed than most.

“A hamburger.  Of course, sir.  Followed by a slice of… pie.”  The weird newcomer might as well have requested a lump of dirt followed by a morsel of shit.  Dean couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk.  He couldn’t stop the rumble of his far from satisfied stomach either.

“Dean.”  The fan rapped his knuckles.  But she hadn’t noticed the smirk.  “Dean, stop daydreaming.  Sit up straight.”

Huh.  She was regretting taking the best chair now.  Dean, with the kitchen door flapping open and shut at his back and regular nudges to his chair from passing waiting staff, had a direct view to the next table-for-two.

Mrs B leant toward him.  “What’s he doing?”  Her pink lips moved in an exaggerated stage whisper.

“You want me to look at the alpha…uh, Mr Nover?  Novem?”

“Novak!  And yes, of course I want you to look!  Tell me what he’s doing!”

Dean looked up.  The alphas face was in shadow, downturned as if he were studying the thread-count of the tablecloth.  He had a lot of dark, messy hair.  One hand was visible, a fingertip pressing down on the blade of his fish knife so that the handle wobbled up and down.

“They say he can’t get over the death of his wife, you know.  Such a beauty, so spirited.  Amara was her name.  So sad.”  Restless fingers twitched at the stem of her wine glass.  “What’s he doing?”

“Nothing,” said Dean.  “Just sitting.”

“He must be doing something.”  Mrs B started twisting in her chair but caught herself in time, before she gave herself away as the insatiable rubber-necker that she was at heart.  “Tomorrow you can sit here and I’ll sit there!”

“Yes, ma’am.”  A passing waiter narrowly missed his head with a tray of soup.  She was welcome to Dean’s seat.

“Hasn’t he even smiled at the Contessa?  He must have noticed her, and I’m sure they know each other.  They were both at the Duke or Northerton’s ball two years ago last Christmas.”

The Contessa di Faraglione had been the object of Mrs B’s gossip for the past week since she’d arrived with her retinue of servants the week before.  She was old news now, though.  This Novak guy was the target now, and Dean would be used to help engineer an opportunity of speaking to him, which would be really embarrassing.  Like when Mrs B had made him take her card to the Contessa’s suite, claiming some kind of distant family connection.  The butler had told him to fuck off.  Probably.  Dean didn’t speak Italian.

A gust of warm, savoury air and a swell of noise at his back announced the opening of the kitchen door.  Dean hunched forward so he didn’t get a tray dumped on his head.  But the waiter was one of the more agile.  He swerved around Dean, hung a right and brought the tray down in a sweeping arc, perfectly timed to present its load to the occupant of the next table.

The occupant of the next table looked up at his meal and smiled.

And okay, yeah, it was a nice-looking hamburger.  Normally it would have had Dean transfixed, salivating with envy.  But it wasn’t the juicy patties and shiny, domed bun that brought Dean’s mind, his heart, his every-fucking-thing to a juddering halt.

Dean hadn’t seen the ocean until he was fifteen.  Before that it had been one dusty town after another, Dad dragging him and Sammy around like unwanted baggage.  But when a job had finally taken them to the coast, it’d been like all the heat and grime was washed away by that fresh, salty air.  And the colours in that huge ocean had taken his breath away.

It was the same now.  The drab, grey despair that made up Dean’s life was suddenly gone, and his world was full of ocean blue depths in the eyes of this strange alpha – strange but gorgeous, from his eyes to the soft bow of his lips to the commanding strength of his nose.  

Dean was heartily glad of his over-powdered cheeks.  Fuck, what was he thinking, blushing over some rich alpha who wouldn’t look at Dean once, let alone twice?  He really needed to get a hold of himself.

But the way that guy was looking at the burger was like he hadn’t eaten in years.  Imagine if he looked at Dean that way.  Although, maybe he’d been sick or something.  The shadows beneath his cheek bones looked sharper than they should and beneath his eyes too, little round ridges of dark cast by the bright chandeliers above them.  This alpha needed burgers and plenty of them.  Dean’s skin itched with the need to cook and cosset and caress, and Jesus fucking Christ, he was really losing it here, wasn’t he?  Really giving into his inner lapdog who just needed an alpha to boss him around to be happy.

The waiter flickered across Dean’s vision again and Mr Novak was left alone to enjoy his hamburger.  He picked up his knife and fork and raised them.  Which was a thing you did, Dean supposed, in a high-class dining room.  You ate a burger with a knife and fork.  But then his forehead crinkled into the suggestion of a frown.  He shook his head.  His rounded lips flattened into a tiny smile.  He put down his silverware.  And he picked up the burger in both hands.

“Close your mouth, Dean.”  Mrs B’s spoon scraped her bowl, chink, chink, chink, even though there was hardly any of the creamy sauce left.

Dean closed his mouth.  Then his eyes returned to the table over her shoulder.  Mr Novak hadn’t taken a bite.  He was still holding his hamburger in two hands, staring at it like he’d found the Holy Grail.

Then his eyes flicked up and fastened onto Dean’s.  Dean should look down.  He should drop his eyes like the shitty little omega-nothing that he was.  Instead he stared into the ocean.

And Mr Castiel Novak smiled at him.  Just a little smile.  Barely there before it was gone, and then he was chowing down on his meal, all his attention on his food, his eyes closing as he chewed his first mouthful, then opening again to get a load of the burger cross-section he’d created.  Did it have pickle, Dean wondered?  Mayo, cheese, the works?  Would he bite down through the whole lot, getting all the flavours in at once, in between those perfect pink lips?  And was Dean salivating over the man or the burger?

He was looking at Dean again.  Looking and smiling and nodding as if they were having an actual conversation about how great hamburgers were in general and this one in particular.

“Dean!”  

A sharp pain on his knuckles brought Dean’s attention snapping back to his employer.

“Dean!  Bridge!  The Spanish drawing room!”

“Yes, ma’am.  Sorry, ma’am.”  Bridge.  Of course it was time for bridge.  His world closed in with an almost audible snap.  Bridge was played at eight o’clock sharp every night and Dean and Mrs B were there, every single night; she to play and gossip and drink sherry, he to sit in a corner and try not to exist too loudly until he was needed.

He pushed his chair back, clumsily, and was sworn at by a passing waiter.

“Dean!”

Jeez.  He wasn’t the one who’d sworn, was he?

“Yes, ma’am.”  He rounded the table and pulled out his employer’s chair and collected up her purse and her wrap.  And he didn’t even glance over his shoulder to the most perfect alpha he’d ever seen, as he followed her to another evening of excruciating dullness in his excruciatingly dull life.

[moghedien]

Shadowheart navigating being a cleric of Selune post game has to be like…the funniest thing to behold

Because she has a few options:

1) just don’t ever do any cleric stuff outside of her little farmhouse cottage and don’t worry about it

2) do cleric stuff but lie and pretend that she definitely knows what she’s doing and wasn’t a Sharran like a week ago

3) do cleric stuff and be honest about being a Sharran a week ago

And like any of those options are potentially hilarious l because if she like actually pursues doing Selunite cleric stuff, she has basically no history and is just popping up out of no where. The cleric and paladin that converted her have been dead/presumed dead for a century. They have no current religious community (the last one they had was forcibly converted to Shar and destroyed) and might actually have reasons to not want to get immediately caught up in one. The likelihood that they would be able to point Shadowheart at any kind of like help or resources is slim as they’d probably be fumbling in the dark with only slightly more context than her about the current state of Selunites

Like literally the only thing that would make any of this easier for them is that Aylin is literally Selune’s daughter and can probably prove that though she seemed to have some issues she needed to discuss with her mommy at the end of her questline so maybe not, and all of that is even assuming Shadowheart goes to Isobel and Aylin for help/direction

So you potentially have Shadowheart stumbling her way into congregations either like “hello fellow Selunites. I too love the moonwitch I mean moonmaiden” or you have her being like “hello I used to follow Shar but I failed at becoming a dark justiciar and now I’m going to follow Selune look I dyed my hair and everything”

Like either she tries to not bring up Shar and pretend she converted randomly or some other way and it immediately becomes clear that she somehow converted and became a cleric knowing very little about Selune and Selunite rituals/practices yet has a lot of preconceived ideas about Selune that are probably wildly wrong even when she’s trying not to be hostile to Selune anymore, and thus immediately becomes suspicious

Or she’s honest about being formerly Sharran and immediately seems suspicious and off because of that as she has to try to explain her life story that she does not remember and how she converted because she met a hot buff lesbian tied up in a magic circle who was a real demigod and it’s not weird that she converted on the spot, she swears! Anyway can someone teach her like the basic beliefs of being a Selunite? The buff lesbian wouldn’t stop fucking her wife long enough to teach her.

But then the more likely option of her just not even trying to deal with the clericy activities of being a cleric and she just minds her own business collecting baby animals and taking care of her family. Which is like a slow burn in its humor potential because presumably she’s not gonna live in the literally middle of no where and there will eventually be neighbors and some kind of community she’s part of, and she’s just becomes known as the nice little half elf girl who loves animals and just takes care of her aging parents, who are devoted Selunites. And her having healing abilities would probably come up, because that’s a useful skill to have, especially in a small community, and healing magic plus Selunite parents would eventually cause people to put two and two together even if she didn’t advertise it. And you know that would lead to more questions about why she doesn’t advertise it and why she doesn’t do any Selunite practices for the community and you know she actually doesn’t seem to know a lot of stuff that other clerics of Selune do/teach, why would that be when she’s clearly a powerful cleric and has a devote family. And also what’s up with that big ass wound on her hand that’s flaring up all the time? Also it’s all very suspicious especially since they all just came from no where one day.

And you know that eventually it would lead to a point where Shadowheart and/or her dad would have to just be like “ok so what happened was…”

[platonicmoonwater00]

I see these everywhere. and i mean EVERYWHERE. and also i need motivation so lets go ig

10 notes- i'll drink on weekends too(i forget cos on weekends im just at home and not at school lugging around my frank green in my tote bag)

20 notes- i will(try to) pay attention in class

30 notes- i'll watch my whole watch later playlist on yt

50 notes- i'll actually do the techniques im learning in ✨therapy✨ to help with my anxiety and shitty social skills

75 notes- i'll take my iron tablets every day

100 notes- i'll start my assessments when i get them(i have one due tomorrow which i was gonna finish now but i'm doing this apparently)

125 notes- i'll ask my crush to hangout alone during spring holidays

150 notes- i'll try to go for a run or at least a walk every day

500 notes- i'll write another chapter of my fanfiction

1k notes- i will actually make an effort to get clean

2k notes- if i see someone pretty that i want to go out w in public i'll ask for their number cos holy fuck i need to put myself out there. even if we js end up being friends cos holy shit im lonely

3k notes- i will actually finished the dress i started making

4k notes- i will try to get over my crush cos its ✨never gonna happen✨(she so pretty and masc tho its gonna be hard)

5k notes- (this is so far up here cos idk how to do this so im gonnna need a lot of time to figure out how) im gonna try to demolish the rumour that im gay thats going around a bit.**

6k notes- i will finish all my crochet projects and not start any new ones until im done.

**context. i go to an all girls school and theres a lot of people so its not like everyone knows everyone, even in my year(theres approx. 174 in my year alone, and theres 6 year groups at my school cos high school is 7-12 where i live) but some people know me ig cos i know a few girl who are more notable, im in the top class and i recdntly started sitting with a group that the popular girls call furries.

(theyre a pretty big group and popular girls hate them cos one or two of them are trans - ftm, ftnb etc, no mtf cos my lovely/s catholic school wouldnt let trans girls in- several of them are gay, a few of them are emo, most of them are poc's and a few of them dont have english as their first language. overall they are seen as the "weird kids" in my year)

so this rumour apparently is going around that i like a girl in my class(i absolutely do but if you havent noticed my school is hella hoomophobic and i could very well get beat) which js isnt ideal and is gonna lead to a lot of issues, especially if a lot of people start believing it so if you guys have any advice pls lmk. and its not like i can js get a fake bf and show him off cos its a GIRLS SCHOOL. if i reconnect with a friend from primary school tho we could pretend to be dating and like make a post on social media. but then kids at his school would find out and hed either have to tell them its fake(which would eventually find its way back to my school, and when i say eventually i mean immediately) or he couldnt get a girlfriend so that probs wouldnt work.

i know it sounds like im making a mountain out of a molehill but ive got years to go here and i dont want to spend all my high school years getting bullied bc even if i went to a teacher about it or smthing id have to like analyse them first and try to figure out which ones are homophobic or not.

like learning about why "being gay is a sin"(pretend im saying that really mockingly) is literally in our curriculum.

holy shit that was longer than expected.

no pressure tags: @wishiwereheather13 @loserboyfriendrjl @fracturedsunsets @chasingthemoony @stars-and-leather @starsofleo

thats all im doing idk how you guys can stand js copy and pasting moots over and over i cant do this i did the first six that came up and that seems like enough 🤷‍♀️

begun doing

going to do

finished

[merryslilhobbit]

There are so many things about the Daniel Ricciardo situation that frustrate and anger me, so I'm getting them off my chest before I lose the plot. I'm sure other people have said the same things, but here we go.

Horner made a whole big show of picking Daniel up after the McLaren debacle, bringing him back into "the family". Made himself out to be some sort of saviour. Rebuilding Daniel's confidence, his physical and mental health. Got a dig in at Zak in a press conference about "feeding Daniel up" because he was skinny. Invited DTS to see his return at Silverstone 2023. So to kick Daniel to the curb just a few races before the end of the season? Because they have "a lot of data on Daniel" and need to see other options for the future? Hypocritical c*nt.

Next, replacing him with someone they're not confident enough in to give a contract to straight away? Yes, Liam did a good job in Daniel's absence last year. This is absolutely not me shitting on Liam - I like him, and I think he and Yuki will be good teammates. But he's been out of full time racing for a while. Allegedly RB weren't overly excited about his testing times in the summer. While it will be interesting to see how he compares to Yuki, why are RB hanging onto Liam when they don't seem confident enough to give him a full time seat? Why are they so determined to keep pushing this one? (Yes I know the answer is probably contracts, but still.)

Then there's the fact that Daniel has actually outperformed Yuki in 6 of the last 9 races (since the start of the European leg). In the same period, they've scored the same number of points. Daniel has also been more consistent in his finishing position than Yuki. In terms of form, Singapore excluded (but I think we can forgive him that one, given the media shitstorm), he's been the better of the two and isn't it meant to be that the first person you need to beat is your teammate? There's only so much you can achieve in a tractor.

And we can't forget the Checo situation. Following the first six races he's bombed in comparison to Max. He's probably cost Red Bull the Constructors'. He was given a few races to improve, didn't and then was kept anyway (probably because of money and the Mexican GP). He often qualifies further behind (in time) Max than Daniel does Yuki. I know Red Bull are coming out now and saying they found a problem with their design from Barcelona last year, when Checo first started reporting issues but frankly I'm calling bullshit on that. As mentioned, Checo had six very good races and results at the start of 2024. And some decent ones at the end of 2023. At one point there was speculation that Daniel might even replace Checo mid-season (some reports say it was a done deal), so in the space of a few weeks to go from that to being dropped himself? I have whiplash.

And I think that's the hardest part. A lot of people were probably aware that it could be difficult for Daniel to get a seat for next year. But at no point was there any suggestion that he might get replaced mid-season. Not even in the middle, six races before the end. When Red Bull confirmed in the summer break that both Checo and Daniel would see out the seasons in their current seats.

Red Bull have created an absolute PR disaster and they deserve it. Driver of the Day, amongst many other things in the last 48 hours, reflects the love and respect so many people have for Daniel. People who see how emotional he was, who see that he didn't have an opportunity to say goodbye properly (fuck, even McLaren did that - remember the Monza 2021 photo on his steering wheel?). People who recognise that dumping him so close to the end of the season is ridiculous.

In the end, I hope that Daniel really is at peace with it all and is in better shape than he left McLaren; that he can be proud of all of his achievements in the sport. Drivers come and go, but very few make their mark in the way Daniel has done. He may not have broken records or won championships, but the fact that he will still be remembered for a very long time despite those things is a testament to his character, to the sort of person we all know and love.

[hey-august]

Saw the post talking about soulmates and „I love you on purpose.“ and your tag on it. And yes, both is good…

But god, soulmate au with Buggy would be so cute tough. So many fun ideas to choose from.

„Yeah I got a soulmate string what of it? It’s all bullshit for sentimental idiots anyways.“ Sees reader insert and is just immediately smitten and now wants to prove himself as worthy.

„Oh yeah great. Amazing soulmate sentence I got here. „FINALLY I FOUND Y- wait that’s your real nose?“ just perfect. Just grand. Yeah, yeah laugh it off Shanks.“

Decades later he gets hit in the schnotz by a closing door and lets out a colorful string of cusses as he holds it in pain „GODDAMN YOU UNFLASHY SHITHEAD! WATCH WHAT YOURE DOING.“ only to be confused when the culprit opens the door again, positively beaming at him, before opening their mouth.

„No I don’t have a soulmate mark and that is GREAT because I would never even WANT that anyways. Although anyone who’d get me as a soulmate would be LUCKY to have a man like me, with no self esteem issues and lonely nights whatsoever.“

Sees reader insert and immediately feels a connection and it can’t be a soulmate, he knows that, he doesn’t have anything like that, but he keeps looking for a round red mark on them anyways because what else would it be? What else would indicate their soulmate is a rotten old clown? Only to be surprised when reader suddenly touches the back of his scalp in awe, like they just found a mythical and valuable treasure. „Oh it’s… you …. It’s …. It’s been hidden by your hair all this time? I …. I thought you didn’t -I -„ and then they hike their sleeve up to show him a little blue star above their elbow.

Ohoho, I do love soulmate AU tropes and soulmate marks. A little blue star??? PRECIOUS.

First words? Hell yes.

It also fits with the headcanon that Buggy is a romantic at heart, but tries to keep it to himself. Imagine the stories he'd tell himself about his soulmate.

He could fill books with the way they fill his dreams.

Some are tooth-rottingly sweet. How you've been searching for him and just waiting for your true love to sweep you off your feet. How he'd impress you with jokes and tricks. He'd show off his ship. How you love him unconditionally already.

And then there are the other stories. The ones where the ink bleeds and stains. Where you regret ever meeting him. Where you avoid him at all costs. Where no one could love a fuck-up clown like him.

But it works out. You're soulmates after all. Tied by fate and meant to be.

You lay in bed thinking all the same thoughts. That your soulmate is out there looking for you. Waiting for you. Missing you. Maybe he's looking at the same sky as you. And he is.

Okay, to talk about a different trope real quick - imagine Buggy's voice in your head. It would be so entertaining and absolutely irritating.

When you two meet for the first time, you're not sure if you want to smack him, punch him, kiss him, or -bleep- him.